“We’re not handing you over.”
Jake picked up the contract and threw it against the wall before storming out.
The lawyer opened his mouth to speak.
I raised a hand to him. “You’ve said enough. We’ll be in touch.”
Both men grabbed their things and left.
Michelle and I didn’t speak until the door shut behind them.
“Well,” she finally said. “That went… not how I planned my afternoon.”
“And just to be clear,” I added, “there’s no garage band?”
“Apparently not. Jake’s been in Los Angeles when we thought he was down the street playing cover tracks. That’s some of our best parenting, McKallister.”
“I mean, in our defense, hedidsmell like a garage band.”
“Right?” She laughed, a moment of levity before things inevitably got worse. Then Michelle lay her head on her arms and sighed. “Oh god, Scott. What are we going to do? We could lose the house.”
“We won’t,” I said. “We’ll find a lawyer, maybe even someone willing to take on his case pro bono, given Jake’s… history.”
“And if we can’t?”
“We won’t lose the house, okay?” I assured her, although I wasn’t so sure myself. “I’ve got a coworker whose wife is a lawyer. I can ask her for advice.”
“She’s a divorce lawyer.”
“Which might come in handy if Idolose the house.”
“Oh, no. You’re not getting out that easy.”
We shared a simple, secure look. It would take more than that to break us up.
“Maybe…” Michelle closed her eyes. “I can’t believe I’m saying this… but maybe we let it happen.”
I stared at her, certain I’d misheard. She wasn’t suggesting we sign the papers, was she?
“You—the most protective mother on the planet—want to sign our son to a record deal? At fifteen?”
“He’s almost sixteen.” She drew a breath, opening her eyes. “Going on sixty. What difference are two years really going to make? He doesn’t go to school. He doesn’t have friends. He’sbetter than half the musicians out there. And he has stacks and stacks of notebooks with songs written and ready to go.”
“Hey.” I raised my hands. “You don’t have to convince me. Juilliard would probably cost more than the legal fees anyway.”
She didn’t smile. “He’s not getting in there, Scott. Not anymore. If he wants a music career, this is the path.”
“I agree. I’m just surprised you’re willing to let him take it.”
“I know this sounds crazy coming from me. But Jake needs something to reach for. These last five months, since he’s been in that ‘garage band’”—she made air quotes, rolling her eyes—“he hasn’t been as angry. He looks… alive again. I’m afraid of what happens if this is taken away.”
“Me too, but if he doesn’t want the deal—”
“He wants it,” she cut me off. “Just on his terms.”
“His terms are pretending to be someone else,” I said.
“And that’s why we should sign the contract. Jake can’t outrun who he is,” she said. “Fame is coming for him no matter what we do. We can either let it explode on its own, or we can help shape it while he’s living at home and we can still protect him.”
