CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
I leave Ty in Lister’s office, telling him I need to go to the bathroom, but instead I just go. With my heart breaking, I exit the building and jump into his car, telling the driver to take me to the Four Seasons. I rush up to my room, throw my new clothes into the shopping bags they came in, and go back downstairs. I ignore the phone calls coming to my cell as I get into the car with Mr. Blake driving.
“I’d like to go to JFK, please.”
He glances at me in the mirror but does as I ask. I cry all the way there. I make it to the ticket counter to claim my seat on the next and only flight out, which leaves in forty-five minutes. The universe has spoken; I was meant to leave now.
I make it through security, but I’m forced to abandon all my delicious-smelling lotions. It makes me cry all over again.
I don’t remember much of the flight; it passes in a blur and I’m too numb to think about what happened. The only thing that goes through my mind over and over again is that I’m a failure. I don’t have what it takes to be in business in the city. The farm is where I belong. I wish it made me feel anything but completely depressed.
It doesn’t take long to get from Manhattan to central Maine. I take a taxi back to the house, paying for it with some of the cash I have left in my wallet. It reminds me that I never paid José for the haircuts.
I send a text to Lister before I arrive home. Please pay José the hairdresser for all of the haircuts for the band. I promised I would pay today. Ty will give you the address.
I send another text to Lister two minutes later. I forgot to tip the concierge, James, and the guy who is always in the elevator, Jeremy. They’ve taken really good care of me. Could you please leave them a tip? I’ll pay you back.
I shut my phone off and sleep until I arrive at the farm.
The car drives me right up to the porch, helping me avoid the crowds of people who are camped out at the end of the driveway. I’m glad to find that my mothers have put their foot down and at least insisted on some privacy.
I walk in the front door but find the house empty. I drop my things on the floor and go into the dining room, sitting down in one of the chairs and resting my head on my folded arms.
I don’t even realize I’m sleeping until a hand on my back jolts me out of a hazy dream.
“Amber? Honey, are you okay?”
I sit up in a daze. Sally is standing over me.
“Sally? What are you doing here?” I look around and realize where I am. For a moment, I’d forgotten that I came home.
“I live here, sweetie,” she laughs as she strokes my hair. “You look really sad. What happened?”
The door bursts open, and Em enters with Rose at her heels. They both have big grins on their faces until they see me. Their smiles are quickly replaced with looks of surprise and then worry.
“What happened? Why are you home?” Em asks.
“Oh my goodness, something happened,” Rose says, rushing over. They gather around me, touching me, stroking my hair, leaning over and kissing me.
I can’t stop the tears. “I decided I needed to come home. I’m done with New York City. It’s not the place for me.”
Em takes the seat on one side of me and Rose takes the other. Sally disappears out the front door.
“What happened?” Rose asks. “Just tell us.” She reaches up to play with my hair. Em does the same thing on my other side. This is what we always do; when one of us is sad, we play with her hair and talk to her until she can work out the problem. It’s very relaxing and helps us form a connection while we unload our sorrows. I don’t think it’s going to work this time, though.
“Do you remember a guy named Darrell who was with the band in the beginning?” I ask.
Em stands up all of a sudden and runs over to our record collection. She pulls out the album that has his picture on the front. She puts it down on the table.
Now I see the resemblance. I knew I’d seen him before. “Yes, that’s him.”
“He’s not with the band anymore, though, right?” Rose asks.
“No, but he wants to be. But the band doesn’t want anything to do with him, so they’ve been shutting him out. So he decided to try to blackmail them through their lawyer, and when that didn’t work, he went to the reporters and told them everything.”
“Everything? Like what?” Em asks.
“Well, lies, actually. He’s telling them that the band knew about us all along and abandoned us, but that’s not true.” I look at my sisters, so sad that we have to go through this. “They didn’t know. The band manager kept the information from them. They were trying to respect our mothers’ choice to be done with the rock ’n’ roll lifestyle. They had no idea they were walking away from women who loved them and children they had fathered. It’s so unfair.”
Both of my sisters cry with me. The door opens and all three of our mothers come in. They take one look at us and come over. We all stand together in a circle, hugging one another.
There are many, many tears, and then one of us snorts accidentally. It starts somebody laughing, and that laughter becomes contagious. Then we’re a mess of tears and laughter. Eventually, we move into the living room and collapse onto the sofa together. We don’t fit; it’s not big enough for six women, but we squish ourselves in anyway.
“What on earth are we going to do with ourselves?” Barbara asks when we finally calm down and can breathe again.
“I don’t know about you guys, but I hear there’s going to be a concert in New York City next week, and I’d love to go to it,” says Sally.
Everybody looks at her. “What are you talking about, Sally?” Carol asks.
She grins, pulling something out of her apron pocket. It’s a piece of paper all folded up. She reads aloud from it. “Red Hot. Hell’s Kitchen. Tickets on sale at the door. Welcome back tour. Intimate venue. Show starts at nine.” She folds the paper and slides it back into her apron.
I shake my head. “No way. I’m not going back there.”
Barbara pats my hand. “It’s okay, sweetie. You don’t have to go back if you don’t want to.”
We sit on the couch like that for ten minutes, until our mothers start complaining about their legs falling asleep. It’s only three in the afternoon, but I’m exhausted. As soon as I’m untangled from everyone else, I go up to my room and fall into a deep sleep with Rose on one side of me, Em on the other, and a pile of border collie puppies in every crack and crevice between us.
I dream of Darrell yelling that I’ve ruined everything, and then I dream of a band I love—playing music I know by heart—but every time I try to get their attention, they turn their backs on me.