A Road to Let Go (Fallen Tuesday #4) (4 page)

“
I
guess anything is possible,
”
she said.

The day suddenly felt wasted and
Mel felt defeated. The last two times she met with Jon there had been glimmers
of hope. There had been a man who resembled the man in the picture Mel had. But
he turned out to be an engineer with a wife and no kids. A quick background check
showed that the man was as much of a stranger to Mel as Jon was. The second
glimmer of hope came when Jon dug up some people with the last name of Burhden.
None of which had a connection.

Silence fell and in the distance
Mel heard the yells of a crowd.

“
What
’
s going on out there?
”
Mel asked, not expecting an
answer in return.

“
Free
concert,
”
Jon said.
“
Fallen Tuesday. Ever hear of
them?
”

“
Who
hasn
’
t?
”

Jon tapped his fingers on the roof
of his car.
“
Well, I
’
m going to get moving. Get me
that information as soon as possible.
”

“
Okay,
”
Mel said.
“
Thank you.
”

“
Don
’
t thank me, Mel. You
’
re paying for it. I should be
thanking you.
”

Jon got into his car and sped away.

Mel stood alone in the back parking
lot.

Coming to New York seemed like the
most amazing idea ever when it hit her the night she saw the date and city
scrawled across the back of that old picture. It was supposed to be an
adventure.

Instead, Mel was broke
…
financially and emotionally.

(4)

Jake played with the same energy
and effort as he did when it was forty thousand fans screaming back at him and
the band. The rest of Fallen Tuesday did the same. They weren
’
t making a dime off the show,
and none of them cared about it.

Once the band had taken the stage,
security turned the gates and allowed the fans to rush and fill in the narrow
gap that gave the band access from the radio station building to the stage
across the parking lot. There were probably about a thousand people out in the
crowd. They sang with enough force that at one point, Luke jumped off the stage
and held the mic out and let the fans sing an entire song. It was one of the
greatest benefits of recording and touring. They got to witness complete
strangers bond over lyrics that they wrote. It was magical.

During the first guitar solo, Jake
walked over to Gray. Gray faced him, his fingers flying with ease on the neck
of the guitar. Gray bent a note and Jake slid his hand up his guitar and took
over. He then turned and Gray did the same. They went back to back, lifting
their guitars, the drum kit in the background, Luke standing on the ground with
the mic still dangling over the crowd.

When the song came to an end, Luke
climbed back onto stage, and stood with his arms out. The guitars rang out
their last note and it slowly began to switch to feedback. At the exact same
moment, Mack hit the bass drum, snare, and cymbal as Jake and Gray hit the last
chord one more time.

Then the song was over.

“
Damn!
”
Luke yelled, looking back at
the band.

What a show.

It seemed impossible that each show
could get better, but they did. Jake scanned the crowd and all the faces. After
seeing Luke, Gray, and Trent all find places for their hearts besides music and
the band, Jake was dying to have that feeling. The feeling of knowing that
someone was waiting for you. Someone that loved you. He knew that Chloe was in
his apartment, but he had no idea what she was doing right now. For all he
knew, she was on the phone with other guys. Or she could be online planning
every little step and detail of her pregnancy.

Jake walked to the speakers behind
him and grabbed a bottle of water. He chugged half of it and poured the rest
over his head. He tossed the bottle aside and a young man in a Fallen Tuesday
shirt rushed up on stage to put two more bottles of water out for Jake.

Jake looked at Mack and nodded.

“
Who
’
s ready for more?
”
Luke yelled.

Jake laughed. There was a pretty
obvious answer to that question and each and every fan in the crowd made it
known they weren
’
t done
yet.

Neither was Fallen Tuesday.

The next block of songs took them
over their scheduled ending point for the concert. Luke ran across the stage,
corner to corner like a wild man. He climbed speakers. He even climbed Mack
’
s drums. Mack jumped up and kept
playing, never missing a beat. At one point in the middle of a song, Jake
looked at Trent and pointed to his bass.

He screamed
“
SWITCH!
”
and Trent
’
s eyes lit up. Right there in
the middle of the song, Jake took off his guitar and threw it at Trent the
exact same time Trent threw his bass.

They each caught the other
’
s instrument and hurried to pick
up with the song.

It was an amazing gift that filled
Jake with tons of life. He walked to the edge of the stage and looked at the
front row of the crowd. All those hands reaching for him. The cell phones
taking pictures and videos. Jake jumped down from the stage and grabbed one of
the cell phones. He turned around, held it out, and took a picture.

There
…
how
’
s that?
he thought as he
climbed back up on stage.

The song ended and the band got
together in the center of the stage to take their bow. Their arms were around
each other as they huddled together.

“
Holy
shit,
”
Mack said.

“
That
was sweet,
”
Trent said.

Jake smiled. It seemed odd that not
too long ago he and Trent were nose to nose ready to beat the hell out of each
other. Then again, this was rock n
’
roll right now, not the bullshit of the outside world that waited. He and Trent
could jam like this now, but ten minutes off stage, they could be nose to nose
again.

It didn
’
t take much of a spark to light that fire again.

“
I
’
m not done,
”
Jake said.
“
Acoustic. Let
’
s do it. Right in the middle of
the crowd.
”

“
Let
’
s go,
”
Mack said.

The band opened their huddle and
faced the cheering crowd. They took a quick bow and Luke grabbed the mic.

“
We
’
re not done yet!
”

Jake ran to the side of the stage
where Frank stood with his hands up.

“
Acoustic
guitars,
”
Jake said.
“
Get those gates opened for us,
too.
”

“
What
the hell
…”

“
We
’
re giving the fans what they
want,
”
Jake said.
“
Hurry.
”

Within seconds, security was back
on the ground, shifting the crowd so Fallen Tuesday could have room to walk.
They jumped off the stage and were each handed an acoustic guitar. They all
strummed, the random chords sounding like a mess. But it didn
’
t matter. It was music. It was
about the emotion. The randomness of it all.

Luke was given a mic on a stand and
it was time to go.

Luke counted four and the band went
right into a impromptu acoustic set.

Halfway through the first song,
Jake caught himself scanning the crowd again. He was submerged in Fallen
Tuesday fans. Then something caught his attention from the corner of his eye.

To his left he saw the pregnant
woman from before. She was still being aided by security, which was good, but
the sight of her brought back Chloe. Jake didn't want to think of Chloe right
now, and maybe not ever. His hands kept moving. They had the instinctive
ability to play guitar no matter what.

Jake
’
s
eyes were glued to the woman. She nodded her head and sang along with Fallen
Tuesday. Her hands rested on her large stomach.

Chloe
’
s stomach is going to get that
big.

She
’
s going to complain about it,
too.

She
’
s going to want to get married
…
hell, she already called
herself my wife.

I don
’
t want to marry her
…
Chloe
…

I don
’
t want her
…
Chloe
…

Jake swallowed hard and felt like a
weight had been put on his chest. The pregnant woman spotted Jake staring at
her. She smiled and her eyes went wide. She slowly lifted her left hand and
waved. Jake gave a nod but didn
’
t
smile. His emotions were tucked away and hidden on the inside.

When Jake turned his head and
looked at the band, everything seemed to get worse. What was going to happen
with the band when they found out Chloe was pregnant? What would happen on
tour? What if Chloe wanted to come? What if she went into labor in the middle
of a show?

The thoughts weighed on Jake.

He looked straight ahead and all
the fans were singing, cheering, reaching.

What the hell did they want?

That
’
s
what Jake wanted to know. What did all these people really want?

Jake suddenly stopped playing. His
hands fell to his sides. The guitar started to slide down his body. Jake then
ripped the guitar off his neck and threw it up on the stage. Luke looked but
kept with the song. So did the rest of the band.

That
’
s
when Jake started to walk away.

He had never left a show before,
but it was all too much. The emotions were like bricks in his body. Pulling,
pushing, twisting, hurting.

Fans reached for him, touching his
shoulder. A few people pulled at his shirt and he quickly threw his shoulder to
get their hold off him. Jake gritted his teeth hard ready to explode. He feared
what he would end up saying or doing, potentially destroying the band
’
s good image.

When he came within feet of the
pregnant woman, she smiled at him.

Jake looked at her belly and simply
shook his head.

No. Hell no.

He couldn
’
t do this. He couldn
’
t
be a father. He couldn
’
t be
a father to Chloe
’
s baby.

He couldn
’
t be attached to Chloe forever.

The moment Jake reached the side of
the stage, he started to run.

He made his way along the makeshift
stage and heard Frank calling his name.

The record company had paid for a
SUV limo to bring the band to the radio station. That
’
s where Jake went. He opened the back door, climbed
inside, and looked around.

“
Can
I help you?
”
the driver
asked.

“
I
need a fucking drink,
”
Jake
yelled.

The driver pointed. Jake saw a
small fridge and opened it. There was beer and water. Before he could speak
again, he spotted the hard stuff. A few small bottles of whiskey.

Jake grabbed one, twisted the cap
off, and drank.

He then looked at the driver and
said,
“
Get out.
”

“
Of
course.
”

The driver left and Jake sat alone
in the backseat.

He sipped the whiskey, breathing
heavily. Sweat poured out of his body still. The smell of himself, that raw
smell of rock n
’
roll. Jake
wiped his face with a towel waited for tears.

No tears came though.

Then he realized what had just
happened.

He had left the band in the middle
of an encore. He had ditched the fans. And in so many ways, he had left himself.

Jake pulled the towel from his face
and reached for the whiskey. He blinked and wanted to cry. He wanted to go back
and undo it all.

*

Mel sat in her car for a few
minutes. She could have started the car and drove away from work, like she
normally would have done. But she had nowhere to go. Her apartment was a small,
crammed one bedroom loft. Hell, there were rooms in the hotel that were bigger
than her apartment.

The loft apartment never really
became a home for Mel because she had herself convinced that finding her
biological father would take no more than a few weeks, maybe a month.

That was six months ago.

The days and weeks seemed to
collide because Mel did nothing but work to pay for Jon
’
s fees and for the basic living expenses, gas in
the car, and some food in her stomach.

She thought about Jon and what he
had said.

If her biological father wasn
’
t here - someone in or near
Syracuse - then where the hell was he? What was she supposed to do? The picture
Mel had found was twenty years old. The handwriting on the back could have
meant nothing.
Or it could mean everything.

Her mother always told her to dream
big but live small. To be comfortable with what she had but always look to
horizon for the beauty. And to never give up, give in, and always explore her
imagination. Her mother struggled to survive as a painter for all of Mel
’
s life. They never went hungry,
but they never had much leftover. Mel never lived in a house. She never had a
backyard, a family dog, or a white picket fence. Instead, she lived in
different apartments that were filled with paintings. She met some really cool
people in her life and when her mother became ill, life flipped upside down and
has never been the same.

The little bit of money her mother left
behind was used to pay to have her mother
’
s
unsold paintings stored properly. The rest was used to pay for her remaining debt,
medical bills, and funeral costs. Her mother had no life insurance and no
retirement. Her belief was that 'the body worked until death and that
’
s when the soul took over.' Mel
had no idea what the hell that meant and she would never get an answer now.

The music in the distance started
to get to Mel. She caught herself tapping the steering wheel. Going home would
only force Mel to sit around and think. She didn
’
t
feel like thinking.

Mel opened the car door and climbed
up on the roof of her car. It was a beautiful day. The sun high, clear skies,
and in the background, a free Fallen Tuesday concert. She sat and put her head
back, letting the sun rush across her face. Her feet dangling off the car hit
over and over, following the beat of the music.

That was one thing Mel definitely
regretted. She had played violin for a year in grade school but ditched it. She
sometimes wished she would have stuck it out with the music thing. She had
inherited her mother
’
s
ability to paint, but after surviving the kind of life she did with her mother
and the constant struggle, the idea of painting didn
’
t seem all that interesting. Plus, in the back of
Mel
’
s mind, she still believed
that she would find her biological father and reconnect. It would be a
beautiful story or something
…
he
’
d take in, they
’
d get to know each other, and he
would have an opportunity for her. After all, it was her father, and her father
certainly didn
’
t mean to
miss her life on purpose.
Right?