A Time to Move On (5 page)

(5)

Mack woke before everyone else. It
was another morning without the pressure in his head from a hangover, but it
was
the
morning. It was too early to be awake, but there was no way Mack
would fall back asleep. He reached to the nightstand and opened the drawer.
Inside, his hand slipped to the back and he felt around until his fingertips
found the glossy surface of a photo. Looking at the picture wasn’t an option,
but touching it today was allowed.

After slamming the drawer shut,
Mack watched the lamp on the nightstand teeter left to right a few times. Mack
gave it a swat with the back of his hand and the lamp crashed to the floor. He
rolled to his back and put his hands behind his head. He stared at the ceiling
and thought about everything that happened the morning Kelly was taken from
him.

It had been so normal. She had
woken up before him and cuddled against him, teasing him, just like she always
did. She had taken a shower and then came back to bed, naked. Everything else
about the morning was normal right up until Mack got the phone call.

“Shit,” he whispered.

Mack rubbed his face and forced
himself to sit up. He didn’t want to relive it again. He felt cursed and
trapped, stuck in moments that were never going to leave. In his heart, there
were two things that he knew were true. First, nobody would ever be Kelly.
Second, no woman out there deserved him. The rockstar life, the drinking, the
days when hate overtook his body and soul, no good woman in the world needed
that.

When Mack stood from his bed, he
stretched his back and groaned. The motorcycle ride yesterday turned into hours
of riding, stopping, talking, laughing, and eventually riding back into town.
It meant a lot to Mack that the band went out and somehow got motorcycles. Having
them surrounding him on the road yesterday made him feel stronger. He felt more
alive. When they had returned back to the show, Frank was excited to tell them
about new dates added to the tour, preorders selling in the hundreds of
thousands, and that the album was already pushing toward number one on the
charts. The information was so much to take in at once. For Mack, he still saw
himself as a thick kid with an attitude and pair of drumsticks. When other kids
were watching television or playing video games, he was behind the drums. Lucky
enough to know a guy who owned land, Mack had a small shed with a drum kit and
a heater for when it got cold out. No one knew it at the time, but that was
Mack’s home. He had no where else to go.

Mack went downstairs and set up a
pot of coffee and then wandered through the music room. He grabbed a guitar and
headed into the living room where he collapsed on the couch, the house felt
eerily empty. Mack started to strum the guitar with the back of his fingers. He
looked at his hands as his heart swelled. He was playing a song he wrote years
earlier. In that moment, he forgot about the four other guys sleeping throughout
the house.

As Mack played, the words came back
to him. His head bobbed and he started to move his lips. What started as
whispering soon became him singing along to the chords. He didn’t consider
himself a good singer nor was he actually trying to sing. This was just about
playing a song that needed to be played right then.

A sound caught his attention a
couple minutes later and he stopped playing. He turned and saw Luke standing in
the doorway to the living room with a mug of coffee in his hand. He had a smirk
on his face.

“Hey,” Mack said.

Luke lifted his mug and nodded.
“What was that you were just playing?”

“Nothing.”

“Didn’t sound like nothing.”

“Luke, it was nothing.” Mack spun
the guitar around and balanced it against the couch. “I’m just messing around.”

“That wasn’t messing around, but
I’ll take your word for it.”

A few minutes later the rest of the
band came up from the basement. Everyone had a cup of coffee before anyone
spoke. Mack opened his fridge and offered to cook some eggs, but then he opened
the egg carton and realized he only had two eggs. So Gray grabbed his cell and
made a phone call for breakfast.

They ate, talked music, and avoided
the fact of what the day was and what Mack had to do. There was a deep respect
for his sad tradition and Mack had no plans to skip it. They had a day off to
do whatever they wanted. Mack was sure the guys were going to spend the day
with their women. And they should. Because there would come a day when they
couldn’t. The concept of mortality was horrible. Especially considering they had
built Fallen Tuesday into an image that seemed indestructible.

Luke’s phone rang and he announced
it was Frank calling. The band huddled around Mack’s small kitchen table and
answered the call.

“Everyone together?” Frank asked.
“Anyone in jail? Anyone disappear for the night? Anyone leave town? Anyone
hiding medical issues?”

“Funny,” Mack said. “Real damn
funny, Frank.”

“I wonder what Frank is hiding in
his closet,” Jake said.

“Not skeletons,” Trent said. “He
has to have room for a hundred of the same suit.”

The band laughed.

“Everyone okay?” Frank asked.

“We’re right here,” Luke said.
“What’s going on?”

“There’s a present waiting for you
at the soundstage,” Frank said. “Something I think you’ll like. Consider it a
gift from the record company and myself.”

“You spent money on something?”
Mack asked.

“Me? No. But I convinced the record
company to spend money on something. There’s actually two things, but one is a
picture. Get it?”

“No,” Gray said. He pulled out a
chair and sat down. “I thought we had a day off.”

“Yeah, a day off,” Frank said with
a laugh. “There is no day off. Come to the soundstage and check it out. I think
you’ll be surprised.”

“I guess we’ll be there then,” Luke
said.

“Do you guys need a ride?” Frank
asked.

Mack looked at Jake and smiled.
There were five motorcycles in the driveway.

“We’re good,” Trent said. “We have
wheels.”

Luke raised his eyebrow and mouthed
We have wheels?
and then started to laugh.

The call ended and Mack went back
upstairs to his bedroom. He walked to the nightstand and put the lamp back
where it belonged. He opened the drawer and looked down at it. He couldn’t do
it. He couldn't look at the picture.

Mack slammed the drawer shut for a
second time and then left the room. He’d be back later. Today was the longest
day of the year and there was nothing he could do about it.

The five guys got on their
motorcycles and rolled down into the street. Mack had the lead and he looked
around. He felt a little bad for making so much noise in such a nice little
neighborhood. But those who knew Mack knew his lifestyle. Hell, half the people
had already approached him for a picture or an autograph when they discovered
they had a famous neighbor.

The motorcycles rumbled and the
band rode away from Mack’s house.

When Mack made the wide turn and
pulled into the back lot of the soundstage, he almost dropped the motorcycle.
There was a giant black tour bus sitting there. It looked half the size of the
soundstage building. And Frank was standing at the side of the bus with his
arms folded.

Mack stopped the motorcycle and
climbed off. He took his helmet and sunglasses off, his eyes locked to the
massive bus. He looked at the other guys and their eyes were just as wide and
surprised. Fallen Tuesday had used tour buses for some time now, but their
first ride was more of a large van than a bus. Their second bus was crammed and
didn’t have a working bathroom. The last bus was bigger and had more space.

But this…

“This is a hotel,” Luke said. “I
mean, not a room, but the whole damn hotel.”

The band walked up to Frank who had
a big smile on his face. “You guys like this?”

“What is this?” Gray asked. “This
like a trick or something? Something we have to pay for? Or earn?”

“You’ve earned it,” Frank said.
“It’s your new tour bus, guys. You’re going to be traveling for a while. You
need the space to write and record. And I’m sure you’ll want to bring your
wives for the ride.”

“Wives?” Jake asked. “Whoa there.”

“Nobody here is married,” Luke
said. “Christ, don’t put that talk in the air right now.”

Mack crossed his arms.

Marriage.

If it were up to him, he’d be
married already. The road and the parties and the women were tempting and they
were there all the time. But nothing came close to the feeling of a woman who
truly loved him. That was the feeling that lasted forever.

“Mack, you good?” Frank asked.

Mack nodded. “Yeah. Nice ride. Is
there room for my motorcycle?”

“On the road?” Frank asked.

“Yeah. I don’t care how big we get,
I like to ride my motorcycle.”

“Then we’ll take the bikes too,”
Frank said. “Whatever you guys want. The record company is sparing no expense for
you right now. It’s like a blank check. It’s amazing.”

“No,” Mack said. “No.” He walked to
the bus and put a hand to it. “This is a bus. It’s metal and wheels. It's not
what matters in all this. I don’t care if we have a shit car or if we have to
walk.” Mack turned around. “This is about the fans and the music. I don’t want
free shit just because we are Fallen Tuesday. It just gives the label more
control over us if we accept their handouts."

“Hell yeah, man,” Jake said.
“Exactly how I feel.”

“Okay then,” Frank said. “Want me
to send the bus back?”

“Well, let’s not get carried away
here,” Mack said and grinned.

Frank laughed.

“What was the picture you needed to
show us?” Luke asked.

“Oh, right. That.” Frank pulled out
his cell and then showed the band a picture. “This… is your private jet.”

“Damn,” Gray said. “That looks like
a jumbo jet or something.”

“Well, it has to hold a lot of
stuff,” Frank said. “This is for the international tour. You guys don’t
understand what’s happening yet. And that’s good. Because it’s going to be
busy.”

Mack squeezed Frank’s shoulder.
“That’s exactly what I need. Not sure about everyone else, but I need to be
busy. Right now.”

“Why don’t you start by checking
out the inside of the bus?” Frank asked.

The band ran around the front of
the bus, battling their way to the door. Mack put his arms out and made himself
as solid as a brick wall. Everyone ran into him and he laughed as he led the
way onto the bus. It was too incredible to be real. There was so much space it
didn’t make sense that a vehicle like this was allowed on the road.

Long leather couches ran down each
side of the bus. A full kitchen filled the corner. Tables and other seats
provided plenty of room for the band and guests. The back of the bus had a full
bathroom with a shower. The bedroom area was even nicer. There was room to
share and the bunks were much bigger than their old bus. There wouldn’t be the
complete privacy for some true alone time, but that didn’t concern Mack. He had
nobody to share alone time with. The far back of the bus had a small recording
studio set up. Guitars, drums, a bass, piano, and computers with wires, mics,
and amps.

Mack sat down in front of the
computer and put a set of headphones around his neck. He looked at the band.

“How do I look?” he asked.

“Christ,” Jake said. “This is insane.
We get to tour on this thing?"

“Damn right!” Luke yelled. “We did
this. The five of us. We made this happen.”

Luke made a fist and held it out.
One by one, the rest of the guys did the same.

As they all made themselves
comfortable and discussed rules for privacy, Mack glanced at the clock above
the kitchen. It was almost time.

*

Laura took hell in the morning.
Before she could sneak into her office, Jerry popped his head out of his office
and demanded to speak with her. His face was red like a cherry and his eyes looked
ready to pop. His shirt was too tight around his neck, and it made his veins
stick out. He stood behind his desk, palms flat on it, staring right at her.

“What happened?” he asked. “They
were waiting for you. Not me. It was your work. They wanted to meet
you
.”

“I understand,” Laura said. “I’m
sorry. I just…”

“What? What happened? Give me
something here, Laura. Tell me something happened.”

Laura opened her mouth. She could
spit out dozens of excuses. But the truth was that she was afraid to move forward
and the second she held Hannah to her chest, it brought it all back. It proved
she couldn’t just let go.

Laura was speechless as she sat
there looking at Jerry.

“Do you have anything to say?”
Jerry asked. “I mean, if I can give a sliver of hope here it’s that they were
impressed with the ideas. Instead of shaking hands on the deal like I wanted
to, they took the information and I have to chase them down. Hell, you should
chase them down, Laura. If I told you to go talk to them right now, would you?”

Laura swallowed hard. She slowly
shook her head. “No.”

“Why? Don’t you want to be part of
this? It’s going to boost your career. You’re going to make a lot of money. I
don’t understand."

Laura gently ran her fingertips
along the wooden arm of one of two chairs in front of Jerry’s desk. She took a
deep breath and looked to his desk. There was a picture of Jerry with his wife
and four kids at the beach.

“When did you take that picture?”
Laura asked.

“Picture? What…” Jerry looked.
“That one? At the beach? What does that have to do with anything?”

“Everything,” Laura said. “I’m
sorry, Jerry. I quit.”

The words instantly liberated Laura.
It was like a high that ran through her. It made her body tingle and allowed
hope to penetrate her heart. The problem was that it was false hope. No good
would come from quitting and walking away from a promising career.