GRIT (The Silver Nitrate Series Book 2) (37 page)

A crazy drummer with groupies after him more than ever before had fallen more in love with and focused on his wife and family. These two people were his eternal joy. Zenith understood what many failed to realize, he knew what to expect from what was out there on the road and in the streets, and he could compute the return value… and it was zilch. He was bored with his old life of pain and temporary pleasure, no longer wanting just a sample of gratification; he wanted to own the entire monopoly of happiness. He’d seen too much of the bad in the world to not covet the pieces of good. This time, life had given him gifts of great. The best imaginable.

“Awww, what’s up, little booga?” The baby began to squirm and fuss in his arms. Zenith pushed his iPad aside and lightly bounced the baby up and down, then placed him over his shoulder and caressed soothingly up and down his back, feeling the thick, soft material of the sage green onesie. He loved Greyson so much it hurt… The little boy looked just like him, and he delighted in that, got off on it—it did his pride good. Just then, the tour bus door swung open. Javier popped up the steps like a ping pong ball. The man was constantly bopping around, on fire, full of crazy energy.

“Shhh!” Zenith smiled, warning the guy. “I thought you guys were warming up… I’m trying to have a little alone time with my main man right here.”

“He’s awake?” Javier grinned as he slid beside him. “Where’s Silver?” He reached for the baby and rocked him against his chest. Greyson loved his godfather Javier to death. He immediately broke into an infatuated smile once the man bounced him up and down on his knee, making funny, twisted faces to amuse the boy.

“Yeah, she’s doing some Skype meeting right now. They’re working on some apocalyptic game that’s set to come out soon. I tested it; it’s real slick, man.”

Javier nodded. “That’s cool. She has a cool ass job. I’m glad she could come with us this time, too.”

“Me too…. I missed her so much when we were in Tokyo. That was torture.”

“We noticed.” He grinned. “I mean, your playing didn’t suffer, but we could tell you just weren’t the same.”

Zenith nodded. “One day, Javier, when you decide to let go and let it just happen…and you find the right one, you’ll understand how I feel. It’s hard to explain, but you know it when it occurs, and you barely remember your life before your woman and your child were in it.”

They sat in quiet reflection for a moment or two, both rolling around in their own thoughts.

“Actually.” Javier drummed the small table. “I
did
meet someone… someone I think about a lot and have been keeping in contact with.”

“So you’ve been keeping a secrets?” Zenith teased. Reaching for his son, he grabbed the bottle of milk out of the insulated baby bag. Placing the nipple up to the infant’s lips, he smiled as Greyson began to tug and suck on the thing, drawing the frothy formula into his mouth.

“Nah, not keeping secrets, just wanted to be certain before I told you.” Javier shrugged. “But none of these things are certain, really. Like you said, you just have to let go, and let it happen.”

“Word, exactly. So, who is she?”

Javier grinned. “I met her when we were out in L.A. the second time around. You may not remember, but she was an unsigned artist at the restaurant we went to.”

“The little short chick with the purple hair?”

“No, the other one, her friend.”

“Ohhhh!” Zenith glanced down at Greyson, then gave Javier his attention. “Yeah, I remember her. She was cute, man. I didn’t know you two hit it off like that… so she’s good people, huh?”

“Real good people… and she can sing, and she makes me feel good…” Javier’s voice drifted. “Not just the sex, but yeah, the sex is on point… She’s just cool, I like her. We have a lot in common.”

“I’m happy for you, man, and I hope it works out.”

“I hope it does, too… because I think I love her. I think she might even be the one.”

Zenith had no time to express his surprise, for the bus doors opened once again.

Short, fast steps sounded and soon, Silver showed up wearing a pair of white jeans, black hoodie, and Nike sneakers.

“Hey,” she said with a big grin, sitting across from them. “Do you know how silly I felt sitting there in a business jacket and pearl necklace but below my waist I had on some damn yoga pants? So glad to have that shit off. Let’s go to breakfast. I’m starving.” She clapped her hands together, all out of breath.

“Cool, we can do that. Javier, when are the guys coming back?”

“Any minute now. They were just finishing up some last minute quality control for the setup tonight.”

Silver reached across the table and took the baby, keeping the bottle steady in his mouth. Zenith drew quiet, watching her carrying their son—witnessing her softer side, just like the one she’d revealed to him when they’d fallen in love. He loved her layers of complexity. He loved her truth, and her heart. He drifted in the cradle of beautiful daydreams, while Silver and Javier talked and joked around.

He could barely hear what was being said for he was busy staring at her and Greyson, taking in the whole picture. His heart brimmed with pride, love, and admiration. He understood they weren’t the next Hiawatha and Osha; they were themselves, but having a blueprint from a great man and woman never hurt. One gift Paw had given him before he’d gone away was what he’d imparted about the key to the success of his marriage:

‘Never let the world interfere with what you have, and what you have is always worth protecting.’

Zenith thought about those words at least once a week, and it worked for him, made the difficult days much easier. If he could work hard to become a welder, work hard to become the best drummer he could be, then he could work just as hard to be a great husband and father… and he did, with everything he had inside him.

With everything he was and ever would be.

Always on his grind, always giving it his all, pure grit, each and every day. He knew no other way to be, for it was in his blood. He now had a little one looking up to him, watching him, following him for direction and understanding of the world. He’d teach his son the four seasons. He’d teach his son about his Iroquois heritage, how to be self-sufficient and how to cherish and love a woman through example. He’d teach his child the importance of hard work, laughing and humility and he’d teach his son that forgiveness and love would always be the keys to set a tormented soul, free…

THE END

Grind and Grit

You grin and bear it…

You grind and dare it…

Toiling over the soil of the recently deceased,

Covered in the dirt of guilt that’s been unreleased.

Cool, dark and damp

Claiming prayers unanswered

Crying out to God,

To explain AIDS, Heart Disease and Cancer

Drumming up some pain

That was never really yours

Playing silly games

But reality can’t be ignored

Vowing to never fall

In love or in hate

Vowing to not care

Give it pause, or contemplate

How many songs

Can be written to express

The horror in your heart

So your soul can finally rest?

How many dreams

Can be dashed in an instant?

Warrior beats

Can be heard, but they’re distant

You can reach your zenith

Or you can crawl low

Silver lining, worth finding

If you allow yourself to grow

And then you know

Once and for all

You can’t stop the storm

Even if you built a wall

All you need to do

Is stay on your grind

Love and be loved

And your inner grit you’ll find.

Tiana Laveen

R.I.P. Hiawatha Taylor

Welcome to the world, Greyson Zenith Hiawatha Taylor

Now, typically, I compile a music directory and leave it at the end of my books, so this is nothing new, but the music directory in THIS book is even more crucial because of the fact that the hero, Zenith Taylor, is in fact a very gifted drummer. Please take a little time to go over scenes you enjoyed and try to listen to the music mentioned, playing along with the scene. I’m certain Paw and Zenith would thank you kindly. LOL. Additionally, if you enjoy any of the songs, please check out the artists who created them and purchase a legal copy of their song and/or album. That is how musical artists, writers, singers, rappers, etc. continue to have the income to create the work that you enjoy. Creator Blessed!