That was four years ago, and the relationship has never recovered. Our parents try not to get in the middle of things, but it’s hard not to fight when I’m home over Thanksgiving, Christmas, and during the little breaks from work I do get.
I want to spend those moments with my family. Pick up my skateboard or surfboard and just be little fourteen-year-old Al again. But Harrison still lives at home, so there’s always tension whenever I return. And all I want is to have my little brother back. To be a happy family once again.
As I sit pondering this, I remember that I have to reply to my parents. They’ve been asking about coming to London to see the last show of the tour, but I haven’t sorted things out yet. And now the last show is only a few days away.
A feeling of overwhelm rises in my chest as I scroll through my phone. There’s countless unread messages, emails, and voicemail notifications.
I haven’t listened to my voicemails in a good couple of years. I’m sure there are important things on there, but if anything is crucial, I’m sure that Paul, Connie, Lucy or my parents will tell me.
I quickly fire off a message to my parents, letting them knowI’ll talk to Lucy to get their flights sorted out, and am about to close the app when I see a new message from Christopher.
Christopher
Not had any complaints. Yeah, I’m around. Your place or mine?
My post-concert adrenaline was starting to taper off, but I feel another surge rush through my veins. Like a B-12 shot in the ass. It makes me want to jump right out of the car, run straight into the hotel, and rip Christopher’s clothes off, devouring him completely.
Concentrate, Alex! Concentrate.
I shake my head to bring myself back to the present.
Damn ADHD.
“Lucy, can we look into flights and a room for my parents to come into town?”
Lucy turns her attention to me, away from the twinkling building lights shining against the backdrop of the dark night outside. She opens the hood of her black sweatshirt slightly, revealing loose strands of her red hair tied back underneath.
“Of course.” She reaches for her phone. “When do they want to come in?” She opens up her notes app and stares expectantly at me.
“They want to be here for the last show, so I guess maybe get them in a night or two beforehand?” I shrug my shoulders uncertainly.
I don’t need them here before then, bothering me.
“And do you know when they’ll want to leave? If they’ll want to stay on beyond the last show? Go somewhere else in Europe?” Lucy’s fingers type away at her phone.
So many questions.
I close my eyes briefly, shaking my head, pushing away my resentment at being the intermediary.
I wish my parents would just book their own travel plans, but they tried to a few years back and got the show dates wrong while also somehow landing in Berlin instead of Hamburg, so now it’s just easier for me to deal with it.
“We’re back in LA the next day, right?” I try to picture the printout of the schedule on the desk back at my suite. There’s recording of the live album tomorrow, and more shows Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday.
“Right,” Lucy acknowledges with a nod as I open my eyes.
A man on a late-night walk with his dog catches my attention outside, hitting me with a pang of jealousy. I don’t get to do those simple things these days. It had broken my heart when I’d given Archibald—my dog’s actual name—up to a friend because Paul said I couldn’t take him on the road with me. My lifestyle just doesn’t allow me to be responsible for another being.
“Alex?” Lucy asks.
“It’s a long way to come for just two nights, so maybe book them a couple of extra nights here after the shows are over. Check with my mom, and then book whatever they want. But, whatever she says, don’t get them out here earlier than Wednesday.”
If my mom had her way, she’d be out here for the whole tour.
Lucy nods, typing away to put things in motion. I find myself focusing on her in awe, like I sometimes do. I don’t know what I’d ever do without her. She’s been great ever since she came on board after Samuel died. He was great, too, but he also wasn’t the most on top of things when it came to organizing my life. Then again, I was often distracting him when he needed to get things done, so I can’t really blame him.
“Anything else you need?” she asks, looking up, and tucks one of the stray strands of red hair behind her ear.
I’m sure there’s a million things I need, but right now all Ican think about is seeing Christopher for more than a few fleeting moments.
