The hair on the back of Keith’s neck stood up.
Jonathan cleared his throat. “Do you want to do the pitch, or do you want me to?” he asked Shawn.
Shawn put out his hand. He would do it, of course. “Here’s what’s next. Forget Cleveland and Detroit and Atlanta—we’re going bigger. Zero to sixty, like the Concorde, baby. Boy Talk: World Tour. Think about it—we haven’t been to Japan since we were teenagers. Germany? They fucking love us in Germany. The Philippines. Brazil. All the places with the best fans. Just rocking their faces off every night.”
Never mind that the Concorde had been out of business for twenty years. Japan was on one side of the world. Germany was on the other. Brazil was nowhere near either of them. The kind of tour Shawn was talking about would take six months of nonstop touring, easy. The last time they were in Brazil was in 1990, when Corey was seventeen, and he had slipped off in the night, and they’d lost him for several hours. It was before cell phones, and Bobby had almost killed him when Corey slunk back into the hotel at dawn. Shawn had laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world, but Keith hadn’t thought it was funny at all. Corey had accused Keith of being an old lady with no sense of humor, which had made Shawn laugh even harder.
Keith felt like he was going to throw up. “What does Bobby say?” heasked. Bobby was the one who managed all their fears, who talked Keith back onto the ship every year. Bobby knew what they liked, what they hated, what their personal bills looked like and how much shit they would shovel to pay them. Scotty was always in a bad way financially, and Keith had said yes to more than a few things because he knew Scotty needed the money. If someone’s mother was dying and they had to pay for round-the-clock care, that was what brothers did.
Shawn shook his head. “You don’t get it. Bobby’s vision has only gotten us this far. Sometimes you need to make a leap if you want to get to another level. It’s likeSuper Mario Bros., you know?” Shawn punched the sky.
Jonathan leaned back, nodding. He crossed one ankle over his opposite knee. “It’s the circle of life. It’s beautiful, really, when you think about it.”
Keith pulled his robe tighter. His bare feet looked so pale, with a few dark hairs poking out of his big toe. They looked just like his father’s feet. “The circle of life is cutting out Bobby? And going to Brazil?” He thought about seeing Corey every day for six months, all the digs, all the piteous looks, all the jokes that weren’t really jokes. About all the rehearsals they would need. His body wasn’t ready. His heart wasn’t ready. Keith’s toes started to sweat.
“Listen, I know what you’re thinking.” Shawn rubbed his hands together and then held them open like a magician who was releasing a dove into the air. “You’re a good guy, Keith. You always have been. And Corey’s a good guy too. I know you haven’t always gotten along, but that’s water under the bridge, you know? This is bigger than any one of us, or any combination of us, don’t you think?” Jonathan nodded in confirmation, his mouth a smug closed-lip smile.
There had been offers. A dancing show, a cooking show, a home renovation show, a prank show, a reality show. Keith had said no to everything. He knew what he could handle, and what he couldn’thandle was Corey and watching Shawn fawn all over him. It was pathetic. When Keith saw how hard Shawn was trying to keep going a hundred miles per hour, how hard Corey was trying to pretend that anything he ever did would mean half as much as what they’d done when they were teenagers, he just felt sad for them. It was like the guy pushing the rock up the hill.
“I am not doing that,” Keith said.
“I don’t think you’re getting it,” Shawn said. “You could be doing so much more. You’re just sitting at home in Jersey.” He shook his head like it wasn’t a real place, like it wasn’t where they were all from.
“Are you talking to Corey about this too?” Keith asked.
“Come on, man,” Shawn said. “We’re talking to everybody.”
“I mean—are you talking to Corey about this?” Keith was getting mad. He wanted to try to get his wife on the phone again or maybe take a nap. He wanted to lie in the dark and have no one bother him until it was time to go to the lido deck in his stupid pajamas.
“This isn’t about Corey,” Shawn said, which is when Keith felt sure that it was just like it had always been, with Shawn and Corey off scheming, leaving him in the dark.
“Did you already ask him? Before you asked me?”
Shawn looked at Jonathan.
“We just thought that you could use some alpha attention,” Jonathan said. “To help unlock the alpha wolf within. I see glimmers of it, I really do. And obviously we would need your endorsement—everyone’s agreement—before we start talking to insurers.” Here he chuckled a little. “I have a lot of experience with that, though. I once got insurance for Robert Downey Jr. pre–Iron Man. It shouldn’t be a problem.”
Glimmers. Jonathan clearly thought this was a compliment. Keith was staying up all night shaking his ass at middle-aged women, pressing his cheek against strangers, probably going deaf, and this guy was seeing glimmers.
“We can talk more about it later,” Shawn said. “But I’m telling you, bro, this is it. This is the legacy. This is us and the Talkers and their kids…” He knit his fingers together. “This is how we make it last forever. This is theworld, bro. If we do this, we will be so tight, we can tour the States as much as we want to. We can really be in fighting shape, you know? I know you never wanted to get back to that kind of life, but our kids are big now. This is a new phase, bro. Just pack your Xanax and let’s boogie, you know? This is ourtime.”
“Okay,” Keith said, meaningI’m done with this conversation. He had a one-brolimit per conversation. He stood up and pulled his robe even tighter, like it could hold in all of his feelings too.
“Love you, brother,” Shawn said. He stood up and wrapped his arms around Keith’s terry-clothed body. “See you upstairs.”
Jonathan bowed, his hands joined in prayer. “I’d be happy to connect anytime,” he said.
“Mm-hmm,” Keith said. He looked at his watch. It had been four minutes. He let the door close behind them and then lay down face-first, wishing that the floor would swallow him before he ever had to hear any of those words again, and then he opened his mouth and screamed into the beige carpet.
30
Saturday, 7:56 p.m.
Deck 5
The assigned seats were the same for all the performances. Maira took one look at the empty seats on the floor level and hurried Annie along by her elbow.
“It’s okay,” she said. “They’ll tell us to fill in the empty seats anyway. This way we just get to pick the best ones. Come on.” Maira was in a pair of purple cotton shorty pajamas. She was the kind of tan that either came from a spray nozzle or years in the direct sun, and Maira was from New Jersey. The color of Maira’s skin reminded Annie of her maternal grandmother, who had retired to Florida and spent the last twenty years of her life baking in the sun and drinking Tab soda. It was hard to say which one had given her cancer. Still, she’d enjoyed every ounce of her life in a way that Annie found aspirational. They went down a carpeted staircase and past a security guard to the center aisle, where there were two empty seats in the third row.
