29. Harmony
CHAPTER 29
Harmony
“ A re you ready?”
Gibson walks into my apartment dressed like a freaking rock star. He asked me to go with him to the place where we had hamburgers when he first visited. If that’s the big event my dad was talking about, I can only think that our discussion will likely revolve around me selling The SeaSong. Maybe my dad tasked Gibs with trying to talk me out of it?
“Why are you dressed like that?” I ask as I pull on my shoes.
“Like what?” He looks down at his black jeans and his tight matching t-shirt that shows off his toned body. He doesn’t dress like this casually, at least he never used to anyway.
“Like you’re about to go onstage with Muted Anarchy.”
“This is just how I dress, Mony.” He holds his hand out to me. “You look nice, by the way.” He nods at my outfit. Also not really something I’d casually wear hanging out with my cousin, but I wanted to dress up a little. I’m wearing new maternity-friendly clothes that Mom and Ari bought me during a shopping trip they cajoled me into going on yesterday. The top is my favorite color and the jeans fit me comfortably instead of having to use a rubber band to hold them together. The shoes are one of my favorite pairs—bright pink converse, although I did consider the Vans Mom bought me, too.
It’s the first time since I was in jail that I’ve worn something that isn’t sweatpants and a hoodie. I even did my hair into space buns instead of letting it air dry. The color in my tips has faded significantly. I haven’t dyed it since I found out about the baby. All those chemicals aren’t good for my little nug. Maybe I can make the occasional good decision as a mom.
“Where are the guys?” I wonder since the bus parked alongside the fence of Monica’s property is dark. They’ll be leaving in a couple of days. They have shows to play in Los Angeles and Orange County, plus a big meeting with Monumentus Records.
“Oh, who knows. Probably off stirring up trouble somewhere. You know how antsy Garrett gets when he’s stuck in one place.” He waves his hand like he’s not their keeper. We all know he loves Garrett like a brother, like family.
It leaves me questioning why Gibson’s not with them. He claimed it was because they’d be leaving soon, and he wanted to take me out to the burger place we went to before.
“I’ve been dreaming about their food, Mon.”
I can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of me as we get into his car. He drives down to the burger joint without even passing The SeaSong—a feat since they are just a few blocks from each other. When we enter the restaurant, we’re taken to a table in the back. We order the same meals we had last time.
“I’m glad you agreed to come with me tonight, Mon. You’ve been holed up in your apartment way too long,” Gibson says around a mouthful of garlic fries. “Damn, I forgot how good the food is here.”
The waitress brings us both new beverages, and when she leaves, Gibs sits up straight and looks at me, his dark blue eyes stormy. We have similar eyes— Gibson and me, and I wonder if mine are as expressive. His have always been the gateway to his feelings, even when his face is not.
“Kill mentioned you’re considering coming home.” He puts his burger back down on his plate.
I nod and look down at my lap. I received Toby’s offer for The SeaSong this morning. James thinks it’s a little low considering the full kitchen, but that if I’m serious about selling, I should counteroffer. I have it in my apartment. Barring any odd circumstances happening tonight, I’m pretty sure I’ll deliver it to Kelleher’s Booksellers on Monday. I promised my dad I’d wait until tonight to make my decision. I’ll do like he asked and even take the weekend to ponder it further.
He nods and doesn’t say anything. We finish our burgers, a sadness hanging in the air around us. I can’t tell if it’s because I’m seriously contemplating selling my dream or because I’m going to miss Gibson when he leaves.
“I’m so full.” Gibs rubs his stomach.
“Same.” I agree with my best friend. Life is just easier with family around. Gibs will be touring with Muted Anarchy soon, so even if I do go home we’ll be apart again.
“Walk with me a bit before we head back. I gotta burn some of this food off.”
We walk to the boardwalk, enjoying the oceanfront and then head up to the main street of shops. This street always reminds me of Mom. It’s where we shopped the first time we stayed in Port Haven. From way down here, the lights from The SeaSong shimmer over the crowd of people waiting in line. But the café closed hours ago.
“What’s going on at the café?” I stop dead in my tracks. We’re usually closed this time of night. I’m not sure what is going on. Why would there be such a long line to get in after closing?
“Let’s go see,” he says, pulling me by the hand like he did when he was an impatient yet joyful four-year-old. I get the feeling he knows exactly what’s going on.
Aiden and Jax stand outside the front door as people wait patiently to get in. When they see us, Aiden moves up to block the line and Jax holds open the door for us.
“Welcome to The SeaSong.” Jax greets us with a smile as I walk into my transformed café.
There’s a sign on the wall behind the stage with the painted mermaid reading: SeaSong Live. New UV lights make some of the paint in the mermaid glow, giving her an ethereal look. The tables in the café are gone, giving people space to mill around. A drum kit takes up the back part of my stage.
Harden and Hayleigh are behind the counter, ringing up orders for coffee, soda, and juice. While I usually have juice on hand, I don’t usually have soda, so I don’t know where that came from. Dad works the espresso machine like he’s always been a barista with Uncle Cal, putting pastries and cookies into baggies like a pro.
“We’ve been busy planning this for you. This is why we weren’t ever together at your place at one time. We worked to get those UV lights installed that we’d talked about. Then we set up some of our Muted Anarchy stage lighting.” He points to a trellis of lights on either side of the stage. “People have been so excited to see the show. We even had a visit from the fire marshal who wanted to know our plan to make sure we don’t go over capacity.” Gibson rocks back on his heels, a self-satisfying grin on his face.
“You did all this? I mean, I know we were planning something kind of like this but not for a couple more weeks.” I hug my cousin tight.
“We all did it. There isn’t one person who didn’t do something to help pull this together and quickly.”
My café fills up quickly with people of all ages, who all mill about where the tables usually are chatting excitedly. It seems like just a few minutes later that the lights dim, and Mav comes out onstage to wild clapping as a spotlight worked by Brio illuminates him.
“Welcome to the very first SeaSong live event!” he says into the microphone at the cheering crowd. “Put your hands together for the Little Rebs.”
My youngest cousins file onto the stage holding their instruments. Despite the cutesy band name, they take their music seriously. Taylor and Daisy are the oldest at almost twenty and have their guitars strapped on. They take their place at the microphones.
Ludwig is the next oldest, and he sits proudly behind the drum kit. Even Axl is up there with his bass. He takes turns with lead vocals between Dais and Taylor. The Little Rebs rock the house with covers and a couple of songs of their own.
The crowd cheers them on, and they eat it up. They’ve gotten so much better since the last time I’ve sat in on a Little Rebs show. It’s basically their own Rock and Roll Fantasy camp run by the Blind Rebels for their children and their friends.
The Little Rebs started with Gibson, Brio, Seven, and myself. As more cousins were born, they were enveloped into the Little Rebs as us older ones left for our own bands or decided, like me and Brio, that being a musician wasn’t the career for us.
I was the first to leave, wanting to put emphasis on my schooling. Gibson was next when he and his best friend at the time, Rob Thomiss-Starling, started their own band, the precursor to what would later become Muted Anarchy.
Daisy takes the microphone at the end of their set. “We have a special surprise for you all tonight. Put your hands together for the Blind Rebels acoustic.”
The Rebels come onstage and take seats on stools. Sammy has bongos. Mav has a microphone. Dad and Cal have acoustic guitars. They play stripped-down versions of fan favorites like “Burn it Down” and “Star Chaser.” Aunt Kady sits at the keyboard and plays with them. When “Star Chaser” is over, Mav stands and moves over to the keyboard. The spotlight moves over to Dad as Cal and Sammy move their stools back to be in line with the keyboard.
“I want to thank everyone for coming out and supporting Harmony. This is a song that’s never been played live before, but I wrote it many years ago for my daughter. It’s called “Daddy.”
My eyes fill up with tears. My dad wrote me this song not long after I came to California as a child. It’s only been sung with him sitting on the edge of my childhood bed while I was tucked into it. My dad never sings lead on stage. Never. But here he is in my café singing my song in front of people he doesn’t know. I sing it right along with him from the back of the room, not caring how loud I am.
They play a few more songs and take a bow. Before leaving the stage, Mav tells the crowd that the show’s not over and that Muted Anarchy will be up next. I try to make my way to Dad, but the crowd keeps us apart. Before I can make it to him, Gibson and the rest of Muted Anarchy takes the stage and steals everyone’s attention, including my own.