CHAPTER TWENTY
Red leans in, resting his bejeweled hands on the tablecloth, fiddling with the silverware by his plate as he delivers his proposition to me. “As you mentioned before, we have a bit of an image problem and some issues with integrating Ty into the band. This is not news to us. But what you don’t know is that we’ve got a new deal on the table with another label that we’re real happy about for the most part, but they’ve mentioned some of the things that you have.”
“The need for an update?”
His mouth twists before he answers. “Pretty much. We’re not exactly comfortable with the idea, but that’s not the worst part of it. The worst part is that the person they’ve assigned to handle that updating process is a complete wanker.”
I almost laugh but manage to keep it in. “What does that have to do with me?”
“There’s room in our contract for negotiation. What would you think about helping us out? On a temporary basis, of course. Very short-term thing.”
“I don’t think I’d be interested in that.” I’m not even sure what he’s talking about, but it doesn’t matter. No way am I working anywhere near these guys.
“Maybe not, but hear me out.” He sits toward the edge of his chair, quickly becoming more animated. “Like you said, you’re part of this new generation. You’re younger, and you’re not really into the old-school thing. Add to that the fact that you know our music. You said you’ve been listening to it since you were born.”
“Since before I was born,” I clarify. Our mothers are fond of telling the story of using Walkman headphones on their bellies so we could learn the lyrics to Red Hot’s songs before we could form words.
“Yes, exactly. And that’s cool, because we need somebody who really knows our music, backward and forward, like you said Ty does. And I know your moms are fans.”
I roll my eyes. “To call them fans would be the understatement of the year.” If they found out I turned down a job with the band, they’d probably shoot me.
“Cool. So, you’ve grown up in a household that had Red Hot playing, right?”
“Always in the background of my life. Always.”
“See? You get us. I mean, you get the music, anyway. You don’t get us, which makes sense because we’re just these old guys, you know, hanging on to the past. Stagnant. So you could do us—and Ty—a real solid, help us out, just, you know, update our image, get our gigs going again for the younger generation.”
Now I understand what he’s trying to say. But I still don’t see why I’m the one who’s receiving this proposition. I’ve already told him I’m not interested, and surely there are a hundred other more qualified people than me out there in the world.
“Why on earth would I want to do that?” I ask.
“Well, you’d be helping your friend Ty out, for one.”
I snort by accident, laughing and inhaling at the same time. “He’s not my friend.” He’s annoying, confused, and sneaky. And hot, but that part doesn’t matter. And sometimes charming, but that also doesn’t matter.
“Really? He always seemed like a pretty cool guy to me.” Red’s smile is slow. I think he’s teasing me.
“Well, he can be cool, sure. But he can also be a jerk. Trust me.”
“Maybe he’s just frustrated because of the stuff that you were mentioning. Because he doesn’t feel like he belongs.”
Red is plucking those damn heartstrings of mine again. Sprong! I’ve been a homeschooled hippie living on a commune all my life; I know a thing or two about not belonging. And I most certainly know what it’s like to have a dream and watch it slip away.
“Maybe,” I concede, “but that’s not my problem.” It’s not my problem, it’s not my problem, it’s NOT my problem!
“But aren’t you at all interested in the story?” I can tell he desperately wants me to understand him, but I’m lost.
“What story?”
“The story about the time before you were born, and then the time you were conceived, and then the time after. Don’t you want to hear our end of it? Don’t you want to get to know the man who’s your biological father, and the fathers of your sisters?”
Click, click, pull! Boom! Both barrels! He saved the big guns for last. Smart man. His words have sent my emotions warring inside me. I would be a complete empty-headed numbskull to not wonder about those things, but I fear the price I’d have to pay to get to know them would be too high.
I sigh, letting my frustration out in a long stream of hot air. “Of course I’m curious, Red, but not knowing has kept me protected my whole life . . . and I kind of like how uncomplicated and simple my world is.” Being in that club in Toronto just that one night taught me all I need to know about the crazy life of a rocker and anyone attached to one.
“I get it, I do . . . I really do.” He reaches out to take my hand, and I let him because I’m temporarily caught up in his enthusiasm. “And I know that this rock ’n’ roll lifestyle is not something you want. But you don’t have to be a part of that. You can be in the background as a consultant. Nobody even has to know who you are to the band, know your background or how we’re connected. We can keep it totally professional to the outside world. They won’t even see you.”
For a nanosecond I wonder what it would be like to have the freedom to say yes. But then that moment passes and I ask myself: Who would manage my hives? Who would help Rose in the clinic? Who would take my place and do all the things I do to keep our family business running?
“I don’t know. I have work on the farm I have to do.” I pull my hand from his grasp.
“It wouldn’t be for long. Just a couple weeks. And if you need to go home to do some work, you can go back whenever you want. You’d be in complete charge of your schedule. It’s a hundred percent flexible. The jet would be at your disposal. It can even fly into smaller regional airports, you know.”
I can’t believe it, but he’s actually tempting me. There’s no denying that the idea of pointing this man and his bandmates in the right direction so that Ty can have a satisfying career with them would make me feel good. Ty’s not always a jerk, and I think the times that he was, he was suffering from a broken heart or misinformation. The band that he loves more than anything in the world isn’t reaching out to him like they should, but I could show them how.
Two big questions remain, though: Do I want to learn more about these men who are fathers to my sisters and me, or am I better off not knowing? And do I have a moral obligation to help another human being—Ty—when he needs it, even though it may harm me in the process? Maybe. But I’m not convinced.
“I’d need to talk to my sisters about this. And I’m not saying yes at all. Just that I’d need to talk to them before anything could ever happen differently in my life.” My heart is pounding hard and fast. This conversation is forcing me to pull out decisions I made in the past for closer examination . . . choices I made that could now be altered as a result of what I do with Red’s proposal. If I were given another chance, would I still choose to stay on the farm with my family, or would I choose something more exciting for myself . . . something focused on my own happiness and not the happiness of others?
“You and your sisters are pretty close, huh?” he asks.
“Closer than anyone in the world. I won’t do anything that would hurt them, and I make decisions only with one hundred percent of their support.”
“That’s fine with us. I’ll tell you what . . . Take the day. Hell, think it over for as long as you need to. And then, when you’re ready to give us a decision, get in touch through Lister. He always knows where we are. How’s that sound?”
A tingle runs along my entire body, as if my life somehow fundamentally changed in that moment. “That sounds . . . fine.”
“Excellent.” He stands and I follow suit. “Thanks for meeting me for coffee,” he says, digging into his front pocket.
“Sure, no problem. Thanks . . . to you too. For meeting me.” Thirty minutes with the man and I’m still an awkward nerd. And yet, he’s as cool as a cucumber in a freezer. We can’t possibly be related.
He throws two twenty-dollar bills down on the table. “Are you all set for your stay here?”
I look at him, confused about what he means. “I think so.”
“You have enough money for your travel and accommodations?”
He thinks I need his money. I go cold at the insinuation. “Yes. I don’t need anything from you.”
His arms drop to his sides and he stares at me for a long time. It makes me uncomfortable.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
He slowly shakes his head. “I’m looking at you like that for so many reasons. I’m wondering if you’re okay. I’m wondering if you’re happy. I’m wondering if there’s anything in this world that I could do or give to you to make your life better. I’m wondering if you’re my daughter or the daughter of one of my best friends. I’m wondering if you know how much I loved your mother. I’m wondering if you know how sorry I am for not being a part of your life all these years.”
Gut punch. Tears rush to my eyes, and I don’t want him to see them. “I have to go.” I leave the restaurant at a run and don’t stop until I’m at the elevators. I slap the buttons trying to get the damn thing to come faster. When the doors finally open, Jeremy is standing there, smiling with his silly gold buttons in two rows down his chest.
“Hello, Ms. Fields.” As soon as he sees my tears, though, his face falls. “What happened?”
I rush into the elevator. “Just bring me to my room, please. I’m sorry for being rude.”
“You’re not being rude, ma’am. Just sad. I get it.”
I cry silently all the way up to my floor and pat Jeremy on the shoulder as I leave the elevator. It’s all I’m capable of right now.