Jack
THREE DAYS LATER, my recent levity had gone to shit with the realization that we were rapidly approaching a “No Groove Tuesday.” That’s what we’d dubbed rehearsal nights where we just couldn’t seem to make the magic happen. In the early days of the band, should an official N.G.T. be declared, we’d go out for tacos and beer rather than spend further energy beating a dead horse. Some nights, try as you might, you just can’t put things together musically.
I stopped playing the song we were currently slogging through and the band came to a halt. “Are we playing it too slow? It feels slow.”
“It feels like shit is what it feels like,” Robbie said.
“I’ve been playing it at one hundred and twenty-seven beats per minute with my band,” Rex added.
Rex had gone on to a successful solo career after the disintegration of RatHound, which of course meant he’d been playing a large selection of our back catalogue in his live shows. His band was really good, but lacked the raw power that RatHound was known for. His solo act was a bit ‘slick’ for my taste, with a slightly higher emphasis on production, which meant his band would play to a ‘click track’ for each song, which is simply a metronome that is fed into each player’s in-ear monitors. Although common practice for most bands these days, I hated it.
“I’m not playing to a fucking click, Rex.”
“I never said I wanted you to. Ease up man, just trying to help,” Rex retorted, sounding slightly hurt.
“Sorry, brother. Everything just feels like shit today. My sticks feel heavy and I’m just not finding the pocket.”
“That’s it! Taco time,” Robbie said, taking his guitar off. He placed his signature ’72 Telecaster Deluxe on the nearest stand and declared, “Gentlemen, I officially call our first no groove Tuesday. Can I get a second?”
“Indeed,” I said.
“So fucking be it!” Rex yelled.
It was a little on the early side of the day for dinner, but I wasn’t going to be the one to break tradition. Plus, we weren’t far from Rocco’s Tacos, and despite its name and northwest location, served amazing Mexican food. We grabbed our jackets and headed out. As we crossed through the lobby, Hadley came in through the front door.
“Hey there,” she said smiling, a cardboard coffee cup in each hand, pushing the door open with her glorious ass. “Since I now know you like chai, I grabbed you one from Flick’s since I was there apologizing to Tabitha and her manager.”
It had been a few days since Hadley had been around the studio. I’d love to say I hadn’t really noticed, but I had. What’s more, her absence may have been adding to my increasing shit mood.
“Oh, wow, thanks. We’re just heading out for dinner,” I replied, trying not to sound too happy to see her.
“Dinner? It’s barely past three o’ clock. Are y’all headed to Denny’s for the early bird special?”
“Ouch. She comes baring caffeinated gifts and then sneaks in a cheap shot about my age.”
Hadley gasped and turned bright red. “Ohmigod, I didn’t mean that as a… I just meant… because it’s so early…”
I smiled wide to let her off the hook, but I couldn’t help but admit I loved watching her squirm a little. Seeing her flustered did something to me.
“We’re actually headed to Rocco’s to lick our musical wounds.”
“Rough day at the office, huh?” she deduced.
“A no groove Tuesday has been called which only tacos and cheap Mexican beer can solve. Since we’re all sober guys, we’re left to depend on the goodness of the world’s most perfect food. Hopefully it’ll be enough to get us through this.”
“No groove Tuesday? But it’s Friday.”
“Not anymore,” I said in defeat.
“Jackie Boy, you comin’?” Robbie called out.
“I should get going, thanks again for the chai, it’ll go great with my fish tacos.” I raised my cup to her.
“Maybe I’ll see you later if I’m still here,” she said, and I hoped this would be the case.
* * *
The smell inside Rocco’s was what I imagined heaven to smell like. One thing I don’t hear many addicts talk about is how much more food means to you once drugs, alcohol, and cigarettes are out of the picture.
I inhaled deeply and groaned. “God, I’ve missed this place.”
We instinctively headed for our normal corner booth which was currently unoccupied and took this rare quiet moment to get caught up. It felt good to get away from the music side of our relationship, and hear about their families and how well they were doing. On the other hand, being back in Seattle, around all these familiar faces and places, was stirring up the ghosts of my past. My thoughts turned to Pam with increasing frequency and my obvious attraction to Hadley was not helping matters.
“Earth to Jack.” Robbie snapped his finger, bringing my full attention back to the table.
“Sorry, guys. I’m somewhere else today I guess.”
“What’s up?” Rex asked. “Anything we can do?”
“You talk to your sponsor?” Robbie asked.
“Last night, I’m good there. I’m just in a shit mood. I guess I’m tired. I dunno.” I knew it was more than that. I could feel the familiar dark clouds coming in, and was acutely aware of how quickly this could turn into a storm. I think it’s pretty safe to assume most artists suffer from some form of depression and I was no exception, but I didn’t want to bring the mood down. Besides, there wasn’t a damn thing they could do about it
“Hearing about your families, being back in town, playing all these old songs. I guess it all makes me miss Pam a little more.”
Rex and Robbie leaned in, a look of concern on their faces.
“No, no, no. I’m okay,” I said in an attempt to diffuse any pity party that may be thrown. “It’s okay that I miss her. It’s okay for me to be sad. I’ve had to learn how to process these feelings, it’s just a lot to take in right now.”
Secretly my thoughts turned to Hadley once more. I could not shake the feeling that she could somehow make me feel better. Over the years, I had learned to trust my feelings, but be wary of making decisions based on them. Hadley made me want to do foolish things. I simply couldn’t shake her. I was clearly attracted to her, but keeping my sexual appetite in check was a part of my recovery, not to mention the colossally bad idea of hooking up with the opening band’s manager.
“I’m good guys. I’m finding my sea legs again and it’s going to take a little time. You’ve both had some time to figure out how to tour sober and this is new territory for me. Shit this all feels new to me.”
“We get it, and we’re in this together,” Rex said in typical big brother fashion. “Speaking of together”―He and Robbie glanced at each other―“you and Hadley?” he asked raising an eyebrow.
“No,” I answered flatly.
“Okay, alright,” he said raising his hands in surrender. “Just thought I’d ask, you may want to be careful, because I think she’s got a crush on a certain drummer.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I snapped back, perhaps a little harder than intended. “I’m not going to do anything stupid.”
“Just don’t forget that I know you Jackie Boy,” he said in his typical loving, but slightly pointed fashion. Rex’s words had weight, and if he laid them on you, you felt it.
“I’m good,” I said more reassuringly than deserved.
“Alright, now if we’re done taping today’s episode of the View, how about we get some tacos in us pronto.” Robbie—the ever-present voice of reason.
* * *
When we got back to the studio, I was happy to see Hadley was still there, but Rex’s words still hung over me like a dark cloud. I knew he was right, and if I wasn’t careful, I was going to end up hurting Hadley, or worse yet, I’d end up fucking her and then we’d both be in trouble.
Hadley was in her normal spot at the lobby coffee table, with her laptop and her circa 1993 day-planner, looking as dead sexy as usual. I had to make peace with the fact that, although I enjoyed looking at the lovely Miss Simon, I had to abandon all thoughts of touching. My flirtations needed to come to an immediate end.
“How was Taco Tuesday?” she asked looking up from her laptop.
“No groove Tuesday,” I corrected her, and tried not to laugh. She was undeniably gorgeous, but I reminded myself that my feelings were purely physical. For both our sakes, I needed to avoid engaging any further.
“Oh, right,” she smiled and giggled. “I still say you were sneaking out for the Moons Over My Hammy,” she teased.
I had to slow this train down off and took her playful crack as an opportunity to apply the brakes. “Because were old. Still funny,” I deadpanned.
Hadley shifted in her seat and her usually flushed cheeks fell to a chalky pallor. “Oh. I…” She looked down. “Well, I hope the rest of your day is more productive,” she said softly in a way that made me want to jump off the nearest bridge.
“Me too.” I smiled slightly in an attempt to ease up a bit, but Hadley avoided eye contact. I was clearly going to have to figure out how to regulate around this woman. From my current position. I could see Lucy and Rex through the control room window.
“Lucy’s back from Montgomery?” I asked Hadley, in an effort to change the subject.
“Yes, she’s in there with Bam,” she said, her tone brightening a bit. “I think Lucy wanted to introduce you two.”
Shit, this is all I need tonight, to entertain the hound dog that didn’t have the sense to do what I’m doing now; avoid getting involved with women in the business.
“Oh, cool,” I said, but felt my tone was likely less than convincing.
“He’s a great guy and a big fan,” Hadley said coolly.
“So I’ve heard.”
We stared at each other but said nothing.
“Alright, I’ll catch you later,” I said trying to awkwardly dismount from this horrible conversation, and pushed through the studio doors.
* * *
Hadley
I took a deep breath and sent Bam some good thoughts… Jack Henry was his hero and this was the first time he was meeting him. I couldn’t imagine what I’d do if I met one of mine… particularly with the warning of, “Never meet your heroes” floating out there.
Jack seemed more than a little off tonight. He was on edge and distant but admittedly I barely knew him and I could have been imagining things. Either way, I was sure they’d have a ton in common and just hoped Bam wasn’t too nervous.
I took a few minutes of alone time to push aside my hurt. I shouldn’t be hurt. I didn’t know him. But I liked him. This man. The one who confused me, and I tried to analyze why. I didn’t like men who confused me. I liked men who were straight-forward, ones who liked me just a little more than I liked them, and who didn’t press me into sex.
I’d had three sexual partners and they’d been when I’d finally gotten away from the oppression of my church, and on the road with musicians, so I’d only been having sex for the last five years or so. I liked it. It was fun. It wasn’t mind-blowing, but I was okay with that. I’d had orgasms… not every time, but sometimes, and I was always in an exclusive relationship, no cheating, no drama. Just nice, easy, and fun. Until it was time to be over and then the splits were amicable. I was still friends with all of them. There was no back biting, revenge porn, nasty messages on social media. Just lovers who had decided to go their separate ways. Easy peasy.
But Jack? God, Jack confused the hell out of me. He made me laugh, made my heart race, made my lady parts ping. My lady parts had never pinged… at least not like this. I spent most of my day wondering what Jack would taste like as I fantasized licking his entire body.
I shook off my pornographic notions and went back to the schedule.