At my last show, my parents asked Jenny if she would want to go out and celebrate my playing in The Band with a round of ice cream. It originally was supposed to happen earlier in the week, but working around so many different schedules proved more difficult than we imagined. We had to find something that worked for my parents, my sister and me, and Jenny.

When we finally settled on a time, we all met at the small place in town. My parents treated us to a round of soft-serve. It was all very metal.

I knew I shouldn’t complain. My parents loved me and wanted to celebrate my accomplishments. After watching the way Michelle behaved when she talked about her mom, I knew I had it easy.

Even so, there was a level of embarrassment from being out with my folks, especially with Jenny tagging along. They dressed like they were straight out of Woodstock. My mom, in her long gypsy skirt, had been involved in a lengthy discussion with the younger guy working behind the counter, offering up her opinions about everything from sourcing organic milk for their ice cream to offering vegan options.

This was River Valley, not California. Sometimes I wondered if my parents knew how different they were from most of our small town's other inhabitants.

My dad eventually ordered vanilla cones for us and pulled her away from a very confused employee. We all sat at an outdoor table together.

“So,” Jenny said around a bite of ice cream. “I heard that Owen has been trying to line up gigs in Boise.”

“Who’d you hear that from,” I asked. I was a member of the band, no matter how temporary. How was it that Jenny knew more about what was going on that I did?

“Owen mentioned it to Carter, who said something to Avery, who told Mitch, who told Gwen at The Farmhouse when I was eating there with my cousin.”

My eyes snapped to my Sarah. “Did you hear that?”

My sister shrugged her shoulder. “Gwen might have said something to me when we were working together.”

“I had no clue. Shouldn’t I know before you guys?”

“Did you and Owen become best friends overnight?” Sarah started. “Last time I heard, he was a tool who treated you like sh–”

“Sarah!” my mom gasped. “We have not raised you to talk about other people like that. We need to make every attempt to live in harmony with those around us.”

“He made fun of Rainier.”

My mom’s response was a look of concern, while Jenny leaned forward in her seat. “What did he say?” She looked much less bothered. If I didn’t know how much she loved hearing about everyone else's drama, I might be offended. As it was, I was only somewhat irked.

“Owen just said some rude things to me after a show. It’s not a big deal.” I intentionally left out that it was this particular ice cream date that gave him the fuel. My parents were embarrassing, and I talked crap about them to my sister. That didn’t mean it was okay for anyone else to do the same. It also didn’t mean I was going to make them feel embarrassed over any of it.

Jenny hummed to herself before speaking up again. “I guess I was just wondering if anything worked out with the Boise shows because I wanted to ask if the band was looking to add any members.”

“Apparently I’m the wrong person to ask,” I said, under my breath. Sarah laughed while my dad made some comment about not sulking. He went on to say it was impossible to include everyone in every decision, and I should be happy to be part of a group creating art for others to enjoy. I fought hard to keep from rolling my eyes. “Who were you thinking, Jenny?”

“Well, I’ve watched you guys play, and it made me realize I miss playing my violin. I’ve practiced a bit at home, and I think I can play along with most of the songs.”

“A violin in a rock band?”

“A lot of bands do that.” She had a point. “And we’d get to hang out more.”

“We get to hang out a lot at work. It’s not like it’s ever busy.”

“Yeah, well you know how my parents are. They don’t like me going out unless I have a specific purpose. Practising with the band could be that purpose.”

My mom started asking her questions about her playing, which took the pressure to respond off of me. She wanted to know how long she took lessons, what her favorite pieces were to play. While they were talking, Sarah kicked me under the table and gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head.

I wanted to ask her what she meant by it, but the conversation was already shifting.

“Oh, Rainier,” my mom said excitedly. “It sounds like it would be perfect to have Jenny play with you guys. It would also help with the glaring lack of representation of women in your band.”

“It’s hard to be diverse with four members in River Valley.”

“Which is why Jenny is just what you need.”

“I’m a stand-in, but I’ll see what I can do.”

I had no intention of following through.