Before he left with Ronny’s belongings in tow, I thanked him for helping me with him for so long. He shrugged it off but flashed me a smile that made me slightly uneasy.
“Just consider it me waiting on a favor. One day I’m going to want some help myself.”
I cocked an eyebrow.
“Do you need some help?”
“No, not yet. You’ll see. It’s nothing to worry about. I’m not anyways,” he added with a laugh before leaving.
That night Tate and Cara joined me for dinner and the two of them stayed the night. We began discussions on how to move forward now that we could. I wasn’t leaving my apartment, for obvious reasons. It was large and we had free rehearsal space. However, Tate couldn’t just give up his place, and living here wasn’t exactly easy for him.
“I’m still trying to find a nanny for Cara so that I can rehearse with the band and work in the studio. Plus, I’ve got the bookstore. For the most part it runs itself, but I can’t sell it. There’s no one buying. That and the apartment upstairs that came with it. I’m paying the monthly loan on that. It doesn’t make sense to move out of it.”
“You’re just going to commute every day? You come here in the morning after dropping her off at your mom’s, then leaving every night? That... sucks.” I said, pouting. He nodded, but his face reflected mine.
“I know, but until I can figure out something better, we’ll have to do it like this. Maybe I can find someone to rent out the apartment, and a nanny close to your place.” We both agreed that this was the best solution and we started trying to find people to fit the bill. It was harder than we thought.
I hadn’t spoken to Ronny since the night his full memory returned, but then three weeks after our fight he showed up at my place with Dallas. I was shocked but welcomed him in just as I had before any of this started. He used to be one of my best friends. I missed that.
He was shy at first. Rather quiet for Ronny. Dallas went straight to the kitchen to grab a beer, while Ronny and I stood in my living room rather stiff. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked up at me, shame over our last conversation here was clear on his face.
“I was hoping we could jam a little. Kinda miss playing with you is all,” he mumbled, offering me an awkward smile. I chose to accept the small hand of friendship with my own bigger smile. I knew it would be uncomfortable for a while, but if we powered through it, eventually we’d make it out okay.
“I’d love that. Tate’s not here right now so I can sit behind my kit for a few hours. Let’s go,” I said with a little more pep than needed. I was excited to play my drums, but not overjoyed.
“Is he moving in now?” he asked cautiously as we started towards the rehearsal room.
“Eventually. Are you okay with that?” I asked, trying to broach the subject as softly as I could.
“No, but I have to be.”
I looked over at him and he gave me a lazy, half-smile.
“I’m not going to lose my shit over it, but it’s still hard seeing you two together. It was hard before when we were on tour and I was still dating Tierney. It’s probably gonna hurt more now, but I’ll learn to live with it. I was already working on it before I remembered that stupid book of his,” he murmured.
I opened my mouth to say something, but Dallas came up behind us and put his arms over our shoulders and urged us forward.
“Oh, don’t let him give you some poetic bullshit. This dude’s been rattling headboards so damn loudly I can’t sleep most nights. I’m sure that pussy you’re getting is helping you live with it.”
“Nice,” I said, looking at Ronny. I was a little sharper than intended. I didn’t know why it bothered me so much that he had moved on. It shouldn’t matter. He diverted his eyes quickly.
“It’s not like I’m bringing any of them home to meet you guys.”
“Thank God for that. I’ve talked to some of them and they are train wrecks. Alright come on, I want to play. No one ever wants to play with me anymore,” my brother whined as he pushed us into the room.
Plucking a guitar off the wall he started getting things turned on and plugged in. I went to my kit and sat down with a plop. I sighed happily. Man, I loved this spot. While I did enjoy other roles in the band, nothing would ever beat sitting in the back, banging on my kit and enjoying the show ahead of me.
I grabbed the sticks I had resting on my side table and played a quick beat, testing out the waters. I really didn’t come in here enough on my own. I pressed on the pedal three times quickly and looked forward and saw Ronny setting up on the left, like always. See, I thought. This could work. He turned around briefly and gave me a small friendly smile, reaffirming my thoughts.
Dallas started a familiar riff, spinning around and sticking his tongue out at me as he played. I flipped him off, flashing him my tattoo. He did the same, stopping short in his playing to do so. His tattoo was faded, like mine, but still legible. I could clearly see my name on the side. I had his on mine. It was one of the last things we did together before the big fight that caused us to hate each other for so long. I was glad neither of us had gotten it covered up.Maybe in our hearts we always knew we’d be okay again someday. I hoped that was true.
“What are we playing?” Ronny asked, interrupting Dallas’ and my teasing.
“Let’s do something fun. I need something lighthearted.” Dallas walked over to my mic stand and flicked on the microphone. “What about some Rush. You know ‘Tom Sawyer’?” He glanced over at Ronny. Ronny nodded and we counted down. I lifted my sticks in the air, Ronny shifted his shoulders, and Dally tapped his feet. One, two, three!
My brother was right. We needed to play some fun songs. No pressure, classic, easy songs. No new, original music. Sometimes a good jam session of old stuff was just what your brain needed.
We played Rush, Supertramp, Kansas, Poison, and anything that we all remembered how to play. Sometime during the session Tate popped in and joined us, picking up a guitar without missing a beat. Tate was a man of many, many talents. He could play a few different instruments. That made him a great person to have in a band.
