Ten Days of Perfect (28 page)

“This is the last portrait of my family before my parents died.” Bo startled me away from my thoughts.

“Oh, when was it taken?” I didn’t break my gaze from the picture that held the gorgeous family.

“A month before they died. The pictures came in the mail a couple of weeks after their funeral.” I could feel him staring at me.

“Holy shit, are you serious?” I turned and looked at him wide-eyed.

“Yeah, they saw the proofs, but never these. This was the best one; Rae and I each have one in our rooms.”

“Rae?”

“Yea, Rachel’s nickname.”

“Cute.” I smiled.

“Want a tour of the rest of the place?”

“You bet your ass I do.” I slapped his butt and headed for the door. He
tugged my arm and pulled me in for a deep, soft kiss.

“Well, up here is just bedrooms; Rae’s is across the hall and all the way at the end is my parents’ room. It just stays . . . well
. . .
”

“I get it.” I squeezed his hand in reassurance as he led me back down the
grand
staircase.

Bo took me through the foyer and showed me the living room, expansive gourmet kitchen, office, and den before ope
ning a door leading downstairs.

“Want to see the studio?” He asked with an impish grin.

“Yes!” I squealed like a little girl before I pushed past him and flew down the stairs to the full-height basement.

Bo opened the door at the bottom of the stairs and flicked on the light. Just like in the movies, there was a window looking into the expansive room. I could see the studio space itself and to the back was the control room, also with a large window. This was no DIY project; this was some state-of-the-art recording shit. I reminded myself to close my mouth as I walked in, lest I look the fool.

“Rae and Ash would
love
this.” I stated out loud.

“What?” Bo asked, thoroughly confused.

“Ha. Sorry. My mom’s nickname is also Rae, it’s short for Raven. My dad’s name is Ashby, but I call him Ash most of the time. ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad’ were out of the question for them when I was growing up.” I shrugged as I entered the control room, grazing my fingers across all of the slides and dials.

“Wait a minute.” Bo said, entering the control room behind me.

“I know, I know, it’s weird to call your parents by their first names - it’s just what it is.” I smiled.

“No,
that
I get.” He chuckled, “Your parents are Raven and Ashby Harris?” He placed his hands on my shoulders and looked me square in the face.

“Yes, my name is November, their names are Ashby and Raven, and we all share the same last name
.
” I s
wallowed hard
, thinking it was impossible that he was going where I hoped he wasn’t.

“Cute, Ember. Let’s try it this way; are your parents
the
Raven and Ashby Harris?”

I stood in shocked silence as he reached to a shelf of albums above my head, thumbing through them. When I realized what he was doing, I finally spoke.

“
Shit.
Are you fucking kidding me?” I whispered. My eyes widened as blood raced to my face.

Bo pulled out a straight-up old school vinyl record. The cover read, “Earth Mama by The San Diego Six” and graced the pictures of my parents and four of their closest friends. I made no facial expression as he held the record up next to his face and smiled.

“How the fuck . . . you know what? Never mind. I can’t believe this
,
” I said all at once as I plunked in the chair behind me, burying my face in my hands.

“How could you not tell me that your parents are, or were, in one of the most popular indie folk bands from San Diego in the eighties and early nineties?” He grabbed my shoulders again and shook them playfully, like he was breaking the news to me.

“Um, how about because my parents were in one of the most popular indie folk bands from San Diego in the eighties and early nineties, and exactly
no one
our age knows about that? This is un-fucking-believable!” I broke into hysterical laughter, “Where did you even get that?”

“My parents had it in a huge collection of albums. I was sorting through their stuff after they died and found this gem. So, November Blue Harris, how is it that
you’ve
never been inside
a recording studio?” He suggested I was lying.

“Well, Officer, maybe I did go in one when I was younger, but they were mainly touring. I think they only recorded one new album after I was born and I don’t really remember that. So, it’s possible that I crawled around a studio once or twice. I swear to you right now, do
not
say anything to Monica, Josh, o
r Adrian - none of them know.”
I snapped the record from his hand and looked at it, feeling a knot tighten in my stomach.

“What’s the deal? They’re awesome,” he said a little less playfully.

I feigned indifference, “It’s just . . .” I rolled my eyes and huffed, “It’s just kind of a long story. It’s not important.” My eyes shot to the floor.

“Hey,” he lifted my chin as he sat in the chair across from me, “what is it?” He spoke softly.

I looked to the left and the right, trying to find a topic of discussion to get us out of this Ashby and Raven vortex, but I couldn’t; we
were
in a recording studio after all. I yielded a sigh and slowly brought my eyes to his.

“Fine. Look. Remember the first night we met and I told you about how my parents are hippies, and later I told you how I finally got them to agree to settle in one place long enough for me to attend high school?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s the sugared-up Cliff’s Notes version. The truth is I was part of their little traveling show with Six - that’s what I called them. They were recording the album in your hands while my mom was pregnant with me - which is why she’s pregnant on the cover. It’s actually kind of funny that you have the vinyl, they didn’t make many. You may want to hang on to that.” I laughed dismissively.

“Anyway, I grew up being home-schooled as they travelled up and down the
West Coast. By the time I was fourteen,
I wanted to go to a real high school so I begged,
begged
to be in one place for it. They smiled, said ‘sure’
,
and let me pick the place which is how we ended up on the East Coast. I wanted to be as far away from San Diego as poss
ible.” Tears betrayed my eyes.

Bo looked a little confused; I stopped him when he opened his mouth.

“You know, when we moved to Connecticut, it was the first time I had my own room for more than a few days. It was the first time we lived somewhere rather than
stayed
somewhere. I felt so proud of myself for convincing them to move, let alone three thousand miles away. It was empowering. I learned if I asked, I could get, hence my stellar grant writing,” I laughed, “But as I went through high school I just got fucking pissed. I was a
kid
and they dragged me along in their life without giving me one of my own. They were so selfish while they touted free love, peace, and harmony; I thou
ght they were such hypocrites.”

“Well, it sure explains a lot about you
.
” Bo wiped the tear from my cheek

“Sorry, I don’t mean to be bitching about my parents. But that night on the beach, when we first met, you said ‘You take what you get and you use it for what you want.’ That’s what I did with my parents. I got exactly what I didn’t want, so I modeled my life the opposite way.” I shrugged.

“Real mature,” he huffed.

“Excuse me?”
M
y face heated, drying my tears.

“You’re s
o
damn talented with your voice, and a clear natural on the guitar, and yet you won’t do anything with it because of some life your parents chose for themselves? Sounds to me like they’re still doing the choosing,” his voice wavered between sarcasm and anger.

I opened my mouth to answer, stunned with shock, but I jumped up when I heard a door slam upstairs.

“Bowan? Bo?! Are you here?”
A female voice tore through the house.

“Who the hell is that?” My scant jealousy irritated me.

“That,” he smiled, “is Rachel. Prepare to meet my sister.”

“Down here Rae!” Bo hollered up the stairs.

I quickly composed myself from his ‘mature’ comment in order not to seem like a total snob in front of his sister, but I was still pissed.

Light footsteps bounded down the stairs. When Rachel entered, the whole vibe of the room changed. She was smaller than I thought she’d be, probably 5’4”, and she was quite thin, but wore that huge smile I’d become accustomed to from Bo. He opened his arms
for a hug,
and his size swallowed her.

“You’re early,” Bo said.

“Yeah, need to get back to
the
campus
library
to get some work done before they c
lose for the night.” She beamed and turned
to me.

“You must be November. It’s great to meet you!” She squealed. I stuck out my hand but she wrapped her arms around me instead.
She’s cute as a friggin button.

“That’s me. I gather Bo’s mentioned me?” I smiled as I backed away.

“Are you kidding? You’re all I’ve heard about for the last week.” She shot a teasing glance at her brother.

“O
K
, Rae, that’s enough.” For the first time, I saw Bo blush, eliciting a giggle.

“Whatever, Bo, you have it bad for her - let’s just get it out there. OK, so, do you guys want to get lunch?” Rae smiled at me.

“I’m starving, that sounds great.”

As we headed up the stairs I realized I could be good friends with Rachel Cavanaugh; she had spunk.

* * *

When we return
ed from lunch, Rachel headed up
stairs to pack her things for the weekend. I had
pushed the blackmail to the back of my mind
, which was good since Rachel didn’t know, and I certainly didn’t want to be the one to tell her. During lunch I got a glimpse of a young Bo Cavanaugh and it was quite a trip. It turned out that Bo played the piano until he started getting picked on by some of his friends, and then he begged his parents to let him play the ‘much cooler’ guitar. Luckily it worked out for him, though Rachel let it spill that Bo still plays the piano - which would explain its presence in the recording studio.

“You’re sister’s gre
at,” I said as I followed Bo in
to the kitchen.

“I love her so much. When our parents died we grew even closer; we’re all each other have left. My parents have family on the West Coast, but we’re not close with them.” While his voice was sweet when discussing Rachel, there was a tense undercurrent of worry.

Bo’s phone rang. His face darkened when he looked at the caller ID.

“Um, I’ll leave you alone; I’m going to wander up to the widow’s watch.” I gave him a quick peck on the cheek, turned on my heels and didn’t look back - having an idea what that call was about.

The winding stairway to the upper most point in the house wa
s brightly lit from the sun
. When I reached the top and opened the door, Rachel and I both jumped.

“Sorry, Bo got a call so I’m wandering
.
” I stood outside of the room.

“Come in, silly. It’s not like I’m naked in here,” Rachel laughed.

When I entered, I gasped at the view. I didn’t know the city limits of Concord, but was pretty sure I could see them from where I stood. The stained glass window cast rainbow shadows throughout the room, but enough natural light peered in to keep out the church feel. The windows went all the way to the floor, where Rachel sat cross-legged.

“Sit
.
” She patted the dark wooden floor next to her. I sat, mimicking her position, and admired the view.

“It’s so peaceful,” I whispered.

“Isn’t it great? I feel like I’ve spent half my life up here,” she said wistfully. “So, you’ve had some meetings with Bo at your organization, right?” She turned to me.

“Yeah, we had a couple last week, including one with David Bryson,” I said, looking back at her.

“So, then, you know ‘my st
ory.’” She put in air-quotes.

“Oh. Yeah, I do.” I shrugged, trying to keep emotion out of my voice.

“I just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable around me. I’m working on myself all the time
. E
veryone knows, most pe
ople aren’t assholes about it.”