Gray
(The following evening)
"I bet you're tired," Gray's mom said, plopping onto the couch next to him after a long night at his homecoming party.
Gray muted the television and regarded his mom with a tired smile. It was late. The house had long since been tidied up, and they had both taken showers. The rest of their friends and family had gone home for the evening, and Alan, Gray's dad, was in bed. It was just the two of them.
"I thought you'd be in bed already," Debbie said.
Gray smiled at his mom. "I'll go in a minute. Thank you for everything tonight. Everything was really delicious, and dad's speech..." Gray hesitated.
"I know," Debbie said. "He's a man of few words, but when he has something to say, it's usually really good." She reached over and squeezed Gray's leg. "Everybody was all excited about Kevin talking you into playing on his show."
Several years ago, Gray's younger brother, Kevin, had won Star Search for his stand-up comedy. Since then, Kevin had made a bit of a name for himself in the comedy scene, doing live stand-up for large audiences and even appearing several times on Johnny Carson. His agent, a real go-getter lady by the name of Sandra Banks, had seen a picture of Gray at Kevin's house, and she asked about him. They got into a conversation where Kevin went on and on about how opposite they were. In his classic, self-deprecating way, Kevin made Gray out to be an all-American hero type, recounting stories of his brother's noble bravery when they were kids and how Gray was always getting Kevin out of trouble.
The agent fell in love with Gray Kennedy and the idea of the Kennedy brothers dynamic in general. She and Kevin instantly started brainstorming ways they could use the characters in a comedy sitcom.
This was several months ago, and by now, the idea was more than just an idea. Gray knew nothing about acting and was very reluctant to agree to anything while he was overseas, but he told them he'd discuss it when he got home.
Tonight he realized that things were already set in motion. They would move forward with filming the pilot with or without him. Kevin was already in negotiations with the network and had hired producers and directors. The backup plan was that they would base the character on Gray, but hire an actor to play him.
"I can't believe they've got me considering doing a pilot," Gray said.
His mom smiled at him. "All you have to do is act like yourself. Kevin will tell you what to do. It sounds like its gonna be a big hit from what he's saying. Wouldn't that be something if two of my boys got famous on a television show?"
"I've never even thought about acting, though. John Michael would be a more likely candidate. I'm surprised he didn't ask him."
Debbie laughed. "John Michael doesn't have time for that," she said.
Gray knew his mother was right. John Michael was a busy lawyer with a wife and three kids. He barely had time to breathe, let alone take an acting job.
"It's Kevin's baby, and he wants you. I think he likes the whole American hero thing. He knows what he's doing. If he says you can do it, you can do it."
Gray actually knew he could do it. That wasn't what was bothering him. He was annoyed by the fact that there was five hundred miles between him and Memphis and he really wanted to get to Natalie's by the following evening at 8pm so he could see Jane's band play.
"Everybody loves your truck, too," Debbie said, drawing Gray from his thoughts.
"I like it, too," he said. "I was surprised by how roomy it was."
"What's the matter?" she asked.
Gray looked at her. "I'm just tired."
She shook her head. "I can tell something's bothering you."
"It's that girl," he said.
"The one in Memphis?"
He nodded.
"I could tell something was on your mind tonight," she said. "What happened over there? Was she having a rough time or something?"
"No, not at all. It was the opposite of that. She was fine. She was good."
"Then what's bothering you?"
They just sat in silence for several long seconds while Gray tried to figure out what he wanted to say about it.
"She had a sign in her yard saying there was an apartment for rent, so I pulled into the driveway, and she gave me a tour." He rested his head onto the back of the couch and took a second to wipe his face. "I had this big plan," he said. "I was going to pay her to rent the place for a year, but then call her once I was in Chicago and tell her she could rent it out to someone else. That way, I could give her some money without her even knowing what it was about. I don't know why I thought that giving her a handful of cash would somehow fulfill my obligation to that soldier, but I did. I thought it was the gesture I needed to make."
"What makes you feel like you're obligated?"
"I don't. I don't feel obligated now. I didn't even need to give her money. She's smart. She's got money and a good family."
"I guess she does have money," Debbie said with a little laugh.
"Why do you say that?" Gray asked.
"Because I heard you telling your brother her mom was Ivy Bishop," she said.
"She is, but it's not like she's Madonna. They're just regular people. She was super down-to-earth—almost surprised that I recognized her."
"Yeah, but I'm not talking about her music. Ivy Bishop's the blues singer, right?"
Gray nodded.
"Well, she's married to the motorcycle guy. You know, Bishop Motorcycles."
Gray sat straight up, turning to regard his mother with a stunned expression, and she nodded.
"It was a long time ago, but I heard that singer was married to the motorcycle guy," she said. "Surely it has to be true. Surely it can't be coincidence that their names are both Bishop."
"Yes it can," he said. "There are a lot of Bishops in the world."
"Well, now you've got me all confused," she said. "I'm almost positive Ivy Bishop the singer is the same family as Bishop Motorcycles. I think I've heard that. I'll have to ask your Uncle Craig. He used to have one of those motorcycles. But I'm sure I'm right."
Gray was definitely familiar with Bishop Motorcycles, but he had no idea this could be the same people. A flood of memories hit him from the evening before when, during their dinner, Jane alluded to "riding" or "the shop", but changed the subject before he could ask her what she meant. Looking back, Gray wondered if she had kept that detail from him on purpose or if it just didn’t get brought up. They had talked for a couple of hours, and she never mentioned that she was motorcycle royalty. He smiled inwardly, thinking he had been guilty of leaving some things out as well.
He took a deep breath. "Like I was saying, I had this big plan to call her once I got here and cancel my lease and let her keep the money. The only thing was, she kept saying she would find furniture items for the apartment, and instead of making her hold off on that, I encouraged her to do it. I even brought a few things up there myself. I hauled a bed up there, knowing good and well that I wasn't planning on ever sleeping on it."
"I'm sure it's not that big of a deal, sweetheart. She's probably got plenty of help moving the bed again if that's what you're worried about."
"Yeah, but now I don't want to call her up and tell her to give the place to someone else."
"What in heaven's name would you do with a apartment in Memphis?"
"Go visit, I guess."
Gray's mom leveled him with a stare. "Visit Memphis? You're about to start a job with your brother."
Gray put his arm over his face. He hadn't meant to agree to that pilot on his first night at home, but Kevin had brought his A-game to the homecoming party and somehow talked him into it. Plus, he didn't have better plans on a way to make that kind of money that quickly. He had a couple of business ideas, but they would take time to grow whereas this was an instant job. It would also provide more startup money for whatever it was he ultimately chose to peruse.
Gray felt exhausted and confused as he sat on the couch next to his mother. He felt her rub his knee, but his eyes were closed. It was late, and it had been a long day with a lot of different conversations. The time he shared with Jane the night before was still fresh on his mind, and he felt as though his emotions and intentions were being pulled in opposing directions.
"It's not like we'd be filming seven days a week," he said. "I'm sure I could make time to go down to Memphis every now and then."
"Why do you want to?" she asked. "The girl?"
"Yes, mom, the girl."
"Do you feel obligated?"
"No."
"Do you like her?"
Gray peeked out of the corner of his eye at his mother who smiled innocently at him.
"What?"
"Do I like her?" he asked in his deep voice. "What is this, eighth grade?"
She laughed and pushed his leg. "Do you?"
"Yes, I do. I didn't mean to like her, but I do."
"Maybe you should meet a few of the girls Mrs. Fisher was going to introduce you to before you go thinking you're in love with the first woman you lay eyes on."
Gray scowled at his mom. "Do you think I haven't laid eyes on a woman in the last eight years?"
"I'm not saying that, I'm just saying Madeline Fisher has been wanting to set you up with her granddaughters, and goddaughters, and whoever else you're willing to meet. She always wanted to marry you into her family somehow."
Gray smiled. He knew his mom was just trying to be nice, but he honestly wasn't interested. Gray's grandfather was a Shriner with Earl Fisher, and that's how the families got to know each other. The Fishers were an important family in Chicago. They had old money and a lot of ties. Madeline had always loved Gray most out of all the Kennedy boys because she had a fondness for soldiers.
"I'm not trying to meet anybody," he said. "Meeting Jane was an accident."
"Meeting her was intentional," Debbie said. "Liking her was the accident."
"Either way, all I can think about is getting on the road early enough to get back there in time to hear her perform."
"Perform what?"
"Music. She plays and sings in a band. They have a performance tomorrow at eight o'clock."
"Tomorrow?" She asked the question as if she must have heard him wrong.
Gray didn't say anything. He just gave her a little nod.
"Are you serious?"
Another nod.
"You like her that much? Is it because of the motorcycles?"
"No, of course not. I didn't even know about that, and we don't even know if it's true, anyway. It has nothing to do with motorcycles." Gray stood up and stretched with a moan. "I'm not sure about going, though. I'm just thinking about it. I'm tired. I'll get some rest and see how I feel about it in the morning."
Gray didn't mean that. He was saying it for his mother's sake so she didn't think he was jumping into something too quickly. He didn't have to wait until morning to know how he would feel about going to Memphis. He knew he was going.