They had the red-eye back to LA, landed at half-past-what-the-fuck, grimy-skinned and gritty-eyed and exhausted physically and emotionally. Lara, Eric, and Ward had drivers to pick them up; River had a driver and Amanda, who’d brought a cold eye mask, a cleansing face wipe, and a bottle of water.
She sat across from him in the back of the car. “So. Show went well.”
River made a third pass with the face wipe, then crumpled it up and put it in the trash. That was a leading tone if he ever heard one.
When he didn’t take the bait, Amanda said, “Do you wanna talk about it, or should I just tell you about your week?”
He opened the water. The crack of it felt like it came from inside him. “Week, please.”
“Okay. You’ve got sessions with Grace the next three days. She’s making you food. You’re going to eat it.”
River didn’t argue. He knew he’d already lost weight. He didn’t need any more rumors right now, especially since weight loss fueled substance-abuse speculation. “Okay.”
“We’ve had thirtysomething requests for interviews. I narrowed it down to three and told them we’d get back to them. They’re going to want to know about Jem, but we can tell them to fuck off, same as we told Fallon.”
Sooner or later he was going to have to tell people. Eventually it would become obvious he wasn’t spending time with Jem anymore.
But not yet, please God.
“Ask me again next week.”
Amanda moved on without pausing. “And Bella at the Steamy Bean wants to know if you and Lara are interested in doing a popup on Friday.”
That made River open his eyes. “You want to let us?”
He loved giving surprise shows, and the Steamy Bean had the perfect atmosphere—small enough to feel intimate, big enough for people to spread out, great coffee and specialty cocktails. Live performances ranged from nobodies playing in public for the first time to spoken-word poets, mimes, and Grammy-winning artists. They were never advertised. They cultivated a crop of regulars and a word-of-mouth network.
The Flat Tires hadn’t done a show there in a decade. Ted said it was a security nightmare, but River figured he preferred to concentrate on things that made money instead of buzz.
“I think it’d be good for you,” Amanda said. “Don’t play ‘Glitters,’ okay? Pick a couple others.”
“Okay.”
“And then obviously the day after….”
The last Flat Tires show.
River swallowed. “I’ll be ready.”
“Great.” Amanda put her phone away. “Also I booked you a massage for tomorrow afternoon.”
River leaned his head against the window. “Have I given you a raise lately?”
Jem watchedthe Jimmy Fallon segment with his hand pressed against his mouth.
Did other people see what he saw, with River sitting quietly on the far end of the couch? Could everyone see the shadows under his eyes? The tension in his arms?
Then River got up and sang, and Jem knew for damn sure everyone could hear his heart breaking.
“Jem.” Ivy pulled his hand away from his mouth and put something in it.
It was a cookie.
“Eat your feelings.”
Looks like you already did enough of that for both of us.Jem didn’t have a death wish, so he didn’t say it. She looked like one of those little kids’ pool toys, the ones that were basically spherical but painted to look like seals or fish and that squirted water from their mouths.
He didn’t tell her that either.
