The technical part—picking up my guitar and playing the music every night—that’s easy. It’s the rest that’s changing. I see Mick and Angus doing it seamlessly but I’m not them. Angus is older than the rest of us at thirty-three, and he was ready to find the right woman. Mick and Taryn got their second chance so he was ready because it was her.
I wasn’t thinking about settling down at all. Two months ago I was living the rock and roll dream, focused on nothing but music. Now I’m being pulled in a lot of directions. I’m crazy about Summer, so that’s not the issue. It’s just a matter of figuring out how to be the best at everything.
That’s where I’m a little nervous.
Can I be a platinum-selling rockstar who’s also a good husband and a fully engaged father?
I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about it, though, so after I put Summer on the plane back to New York, I go in search of Angus. He’s in the dressing room of the club we’re playing at tonight and he’s reading a book about the civil war. He’s such an academic sometimes, it’s hard to reconcile that part of him with the badass drummer he is on stage.
“You have a minute?” I ask.
“Sure.” He puts the book down and looks up. “What’s up?”
“How do you separate your life with Ryleigh with our life on the road?”
He frowns for a second and then shrugs. “I don’t. I’m the same guy.”
“But are you?” I sink down next to him. “I mean, the pre-Ryleigh Angus was fucking everything that moved. Partying a lot. Hanging out with the guys. Now you’re…settled.”
“I’m the same guy,” he reiterates. He holds up his book. “I’ve always been a reader. If we spent two days partying hard, if you recall, on the third night I’d say I was staying in. Chilling out. And I’d read. Or watch a movie. Or whatever. I’m no different other than not fucking everything that moves. But—and take this in the right context—I’m still doing that. It’s just with one woman instead of different ones. My sex life is off the charts. Hell, I’m probably having more sex than before. Because I never need a night off from Ryleigh.” He smirks and I laugh.
“Okay, that’s fair.”
“What’s on your mind? The baby?”
“That’s probably it more than Summer. I don’t have a problem being faithful to her. At least, not so far. But what kind of father am I going to be?”
“Whatever kind you want to be. You know you don’t want to be like your dad, judgmental asshole that he is. I’m also going to bet that you want to be there for him or her.”
“Yeah, but how do I do that when I’m God-knows-where and Summer and the baby are in New York? She’s not leaving her mom.”
“That’s a tough one,” he acknowledges. “But not insurmountable. The first thing you have to do is get married and focus on getting Summer through the pregnancy. In the meantime, think about moving her mom to a proper memory care facility. A regular nursing home isn’t set up for that kind of thing.”
“I know. But the ones I’ve looked into are…expensive. And we’re making money but not enough for us to come up with ten or fifteen grand a month.”
“Yeah.” He scratches his chin. “Let me make some calls. Maybe I can find somewhere that’ll take her social security or pension or whatever. And then maybe you can just supplement.” He pauses. “Does it have to be in New York?”
I hesitate. Summer and I have never discussed her leaving New York.
That’s where her paid-off house is.
Where her support system is.
Where her pie business is taking off.
“I don’t know if I can ask her to leave,” I admit. “She’s very settled there.” I explain about everything going on.
He’s thoughtful. “Well, this is just food for thought, but you’re making a lot of sacrifices for her. She may have to make some for you. The band is based in Minneapolis. That’s where your support system is. If we find her mom a safe, affordable place to be—and that’s one thing she doesn’t have in New York—she may have to consider moving. A relationship requires give and take. And let’s be honest: If she starts her pie business in Minneapolis, I can get her five times the amount of work she has now just with my contacts alone. Probably ten times more if I put effort into it, which I would happily do. For you and for her, because her pies are epic.”
I nod since he makes a very good point.
He’s given me even more to think about, but I don’t think I can convince Summer to do anything like that until after the baby comes. Being pregnant and having her partner in Europe for three months is about all she can handle.
But going forward, this has to be a discussion we have.
“Was that helpful at all?” Angus asks quietly.
“It was. I appreciate it. I’m going to plant some seeds but I don’t think asking her to move while she’s pregnant will work.”
