47
Beck was eighteen going on thirty, I loved to tease him. He was extremely passionate about music and extremely focused. Beck had done really well at his arts high school, and made a variety of contacts there and at the clubs he and his friends frequented, and of course through his dad. He made the most of the possibilities before him. He filled in for different bands and played at recording sessions as both a guitarist and a drummer. He wrote music with friends, and mentored to an award-winning songwriter who worked with country as well as a number of alternative rock musicians. He hung with a few kids of famous rock and rollers. Now Beck fronted his own band, Freefall, and was determined to do well. My boy was high on life, and I was high on that. So high.
This time, I’d stayed longer than expected in California. Freefall was playing a number of small venues and a couple of music festivals as well. Their release of two digital singles had been very popular. Their social media presence was proving to be a huge success, and they’d attracted a promoter who was barely twenty-one years old himself, a savvy publicist with plenty of crazy yet right on the money ideas. The music scene was a whole new ballgame from Eric’s day.
Beck was making some money now, and his dad helped set him up in his own place which freaked me out a little, but also made me insanely proud. I stayed with him at his new small house for almost two months, helping him choose furniture, decorating, organizing, meeting his friends and bandmates. I kept busy. A very attractive record producer friend of Eric’s asked me out, and we went out on a couple of drink and dinner dates. I took the time to meet up with a number of old clients and, with Kelly’s help, got a few new ones for custom orders. Kelly and I hung out and brainstormed together on my makeup line idea.
Saying goodbye to my son at the crowded security checkpoint at LAX yet again was hell.
“I love you, honey.” I kissed and hugged him, sniffing in the warm scent of his tanned skin and the mango coconut shampoo I’d created for him, which he loved and used religiously on his thick dark blond hair. I squeezed him harder. I didn’t want to let go. Couldn’t. Not yet. “Love you so much.”
I took in a deep breath and finally released him. Released him out into the world.
My own blue green eyes smiled back at me. “Love you too, Ma.” He held my hands. “I love what you did with my place. I love that we spent so much time together. That I got to take you out and show you off.”
“Keep going,” I said, swinging our hands, blinking back the wetness that gathered in my eyes.
“You’re the best and the most beautiful and the hottest. And you need to get out more.”
“Here we go again. I went out, didn’t I? Just because I don’t want a relationship doesn’t mean that I don’t—”
“I know, but hey, hey—TMI!” Laughing, he kissed my hand. “Text me when you get home, okay?”
“I will.” I kissed his hand back. That was something I’d started between us when I’d walk him to elementary school, and before I’d let go, I’d always kiss the hand I was holding. It had remained our little thing. Now that hand was making music, creating a glorious present and a vivid future.
I let go of his hand. “You go kick ass, Beck Lanier.”
“That’s what you taught me, Lenore Lanier. And that’s what I do.”
I held his steady gaze, clear and crystalline in the stark light of the airport. He was confident, he had no ghosts hounding him, no bloody specters looming over him, no reasons to look over his shoulder.
I smiled. Grateful, knowing in my bones that I had done good. “Love you, baby.”
He passed me my carry-on suitcase. “I know,” he said, his voice low. “Love you, too.”
I stroked the side of his face one last time, and with my heart up my throat, got in line at security and took in a long, deep breath.
I got home to Meager late that night and texted Beck right away that I’d arrived in one piece. I showered, changed into my favorite satiny slip nightgown and matching robe, and poured myself a glass of red wine. On my iPad, I hit the new playlist Beck had put together for me. Aretha’s gorgeous “This Bitter Earth” swelled in the room, and I grinned, letting out a sigh.
My boy knew me well.
With a sip of wine warming my insides, I curled up on my sofa and went through my cell phone messages and email.
—Hey, pretty lady. When you’re back and conscious, give me a call—
Tricky.
Tonight I was exhausted and a little sad and really didn’t want company. I only wanted quiet to catch up with myself. I’d call him tomorrow.
I scrolled down and clicked on a text from my essential oils manufacturer about an upcoming delivery. I was now creating a line of perfumed oils along with shampoo, body wash, and candles, and I’d been waiting on this French lavender delivery for a while now.
I scrolled.
A text from Grace.
— Welcome home! Tomorrow night is Ladies Night at Tingle and we’re all going. You can’t say no since you missed my baby shower! Last outing for Jill too! Mwah! —
Ha. That Ladies Night at the club’s strip joint had been in the works for a long while, and now it was finally happening. Jill’s due date was coming up in a month, Grace’s baby would finally be here. I smiled to myself as I tucked my feet under my legs on the sofa and texted back:
— Wouldn’t miss it for the world! Let me know what time xoxo —
I was sure Tania would be there. Grace and I had shared a few phone calls while I was in California. She had told me about Tania finally leaving her husband and having moved back to Meager for good.
I shut off my phone and tossed it to the other end of my low sofa. I pulled out the pins from my hair, shaking it free as Otis Redding crooned. In LA, I’d gotten my hair dyed black with thick streaks of blue and mauve. I lit my fig candle on my Mexican carved wood coffee table, and zoned out on the sofa with my wine, a small bowl of almonds, and Otis, Al Green, Marvin Gaye, Nina Simone for company. Bliss.
The following night I walked into the Tingle on the outskirts of Meager just after ten o’clock. I spotted the Jacks’ women the moment I’d stepped inside the nightclub. Mary Lynn, Suzi, Dee, Nina, and Alicia were there, as well as Grace and another woman with black hair. It was her. Those big and dark exotic eyes of Tania’s were unforgettable.
My heart thudded in my chest as I snaked my way through the tables, the electro pop music thumping through the cavernous room.
“Lenore!” Grace hugged me.
“I finally made it. The traffic was really bad on the way over here,” I said on a throaty laugh. “And there’s a line outside.”
“Lenore, this is Tania. And, Tania, this is Lenore, who has the lingerie store in town you love so much—Lenore’s Lace. Finally, you two get to meet.”
Tania was riveted to the spot. She raised her chin and made a great effort at an effortless smile. “Lenore?” she asked, a tentative quality to her voice.
“Yes.”
She grinned wide. “Grace has told me so much about you. I love your store.”
Tania, my protective soul sister. That hadn’t changed. Grace’s face was rosy, her eyes literally sparkling. She was thrilled that we were finally meeting.
“Oh, thanks,” I replied. “It’s good to meet you, Tania. Finally. Grace has told me a lot about you, too. Congrats on your art gallery slash antiques store. When are you opening?”
Tania’s lips curved up.
We were smooth. Yes, we were.
“Next month, hopefully,” Tania replied.
Tricky came up on my side, and slung an arm around my neck, planting a firm kiss on the side of my face. My eyes remained on Tania.
“You want a drink, hon?” Tricky asked me.
I squeezed his arm, shaking my head. We’d spoken earlier, and he’d told me he and the guys would be here to “check things out.”
Grace laughed. “Geez, Tricky, it’s ladies’ night. We’ve got this covered! Stand off.”
I flashed Tricky a smile and brushed my lips against his. He pressed against me, cradled my face with both of his hands and deepened the kiss into a tongue fuck, making my spine straighten. He’d missed me.
“After this pansy show, I’ll be nailing you to the wall, giving you a performance you won’t forget,” he whispered in my ear, a hand sliding down my hip, squeezing. He sauntered back to the bar where all the One-Eyed Jacks were lined up, gripping beer bottles, scanning the club. This nightclub was their second home, yet now they looked more like squirrels trapped in a cage rather than tough dudes on a night out at their local strip club.
“Oh, look at them all.” Mary Lynn let out a laugh.
A topless male waiter brought a tray of shots to our table, and Grace and Dee passed them around. Tania remained still, her gaze never leaving me.
I put my a hand on her elbow. “Nobody knows. Nobody here knows anything about who I really am,” I said, my voice low. “Have you ever said anything to Grace?”
“No. I didn’t even realize you were here, that you were...you. I’ve had a lot on my plate, and I never put two and two together. Over forty brain block.”
“Right? I know that one well.”
“I’ve never said a word to anyone. I’m sticking to that.”
My eyes shifted around us. “Thank you.”
“How are you? You look great.”
“I’m good. Things are very good.”
“You and Tricky?”
I shrugged. “We hang out off and on. It’s fun.”
“Good for you.”
“Grace told me you’re getting a divorce.”
“Almost there,” she said.
“I got myself one of those a while back, and I survived just fine.”
Tania’s lips twitched into a smirk and something inside me lightened. I’d missed that smirk. I’d missed her.
We fell into easy conversation, and Tania leaned in to me. “Have you seen...?” she asked in a whisper.
Finger.
“No.” My voice came out more clipped than I would have liked.
“Oh, I have.” Tania’s face reddened, like she’d said something she shouldn’t have.
My pulse skipped a beat. Grace had told me about their having gone to his clubhouse in Nebraska, about seeing him when Jill and Catch’s daughter has been kidnapped by a biker from another club. I really didn’t want to hear any more about it. Shit never changed. Ever. When you thought things were good, rolling, comfortable, Brutal Reality cut in for his turn with you around the dance floor.
Another validation for all I had done. Even now.
I glanced over at Jill. The girl seemed fine, but that shit changes you—your child at the mercy of a psycho, at the mercy of crazed men’s twisted egos and dirty ambitions. She was lucky.
“You two getting to know each other?” Grace asked, an arm around Tania’s waist.
I gulped down my cold beer, relishing its icy wash down my hot throat.
Tania’s electric gaze met mine. “Lenore was just telling me about her divorce.”
“I was.” I shot her a grin and her eyebrows lifted, accepting my return volley. “Stay away from musicians, Tania, whatever you do. Fuck them, but don’t marry them. Ever.” I raised my drink at her.
Letting out a laugh, Tania clinked my glass with hers. “Ah, I’ll keep that in mind,” she said. “So, what kind of musician was your ex-husband?”
“He was the lead guitarist for this band called Cruel Fate.”
“No way! They were huge for a while there. Aren’t they from our parts?”
“They are. In fact, Grace here played a role in their success,” I replied.
“Not really.” Grace waved a hand. She explained to Tania how she’d helped the band in their early days by booking them at Pete’s when she used to manage it almost twenty years ago. Tania had missed out.
Tania raised her glass at me again and smiled. A warm, honest smile, and I returned the gesture. It was good to be with her again, to talk, to laugh, to feel that special vibe we once shared. Very good. We were all home, either reinventing the home of our past like Grace and Tania or, like me and Jill, creating a new one.
We settled in our seats, Tania next to me.
“Sort of nuts we haven’t met up sooner, considering,” I said. “I’ve been out of town, but you avoid club events from what Grace has told me.”
Tania raised an eyebrow. “So do you, from what Grace has told me.”
“Too many memories of club parties, most of them not very good,” I said. “Let’s hear your excuse.”
“Ah, it’s nothing. No big deal.”
“Tania, come on.”
She licked her lips, and I followed her gaze across the room to the side of the stage where Cassandra stood with Butler, the blond Jacks manager of the Tingle. This man had amazing pale-blue eyes, and when he aimed his rakish grins your way, you felt them jag inside you.
Tania took in a sharp breath. “Let’s just say, I have a history with a club member, and I made a wrong assumption about him recently, and feel embarrassed and awkward. And stupid.”
“Butler?”
“Hmm.”
“Butler who recently showed up surprising everyone with his new old lady?”
She batted her sooty eyelashes. “Yep. That’s the one.”
“Ah.”
“Ahhhhhhhh,” mouthed Tania, crossing her eyes, raising her drink to her lips.
“Details another time?”
“If you want the dirty, then you must ply me with much drink first.”
“I can do that,” I said, laughing. “I’ll give you a call and we’ll go out.”
“Now you’re talking.” Tania clinked her glass with mine once again.
Cassandra got up on stage and spoke on the microphone, welcoming us to the Tingle. She was dressed like the goddess she was in a long, flowing, one shoulder, dark purple dress with a silver, ancient Roman style cuff around her bicep that I’d gotten her for her birthday last month. She introduced the male dancers and the evening officially began.
One of the dancers came toward our table, his eye on Mary Lynn. But we diverted his attention to Tania, shouting for her to go up on stage with him. She stood up. Dare accepted. She went with him, rolling her eyes, a huge smile on her face. The dancer sat her down on a chair and did his thing, and Tania gave as good as she got. From the stage, she caught my eye and gave me a thumbs up, laughing. A whistle from Butler ripped through the air.
I clapped and hooted for my girl onstage. Tania, Grace, and I were doing good, and we were here together. Enjoying ourselves, having fun, leading our lives. I sent whoops and cheers up in the air.
If only that blind euphoria could have lasted a little while longer.