“Then let them come besupportive.”
“I’ll thinkaboutit.”
“Fine. But you’d better let them be excited when we walk throughthatdoor.”
“You’re terribly concerned, considering you're the self-proclaimed problemchild.”
“Well, that doesn’t mean I don’t throw them a bone every once in a while,” she said, before opening the door andwalkingin.
The comforting smell of patchouli hit me as soon as I walked through the front door. I followed Jenny inside to the living room where my parents were waiting with barely restrained enthusiasm. I could see it in the way they both sat on the edge of the seat cushions inanticipation.
My mom's long hair was pulled back in a bun. My dad still had his blue bandana tied around his head. He claimed it hid the fact that he was going bald. As soon as I walked closer and set my amp on the ground, theyjumpedup.
"How’s our little rock star?” My mother pulled me into a hug. “Please tell me you havepictures.”
“Sorry, Mom,” I answered, my voice muffled by her shoulder. She had me in a death grip and wasn’tlettinggo.
“What do you mean you don’t have pictures?” my dad asked from beside me. He wore similar glasses as mine and was frowning behind his thick white beard. “I happen to have it on good authority that teenagers these days are always taking pictures with theirphones.”
My mom loosened her grip and looked at my face. I could see the crow's feet on the outer corners of her eyes as she examined me. “Your father’s right. That’s what teenagers dothesedays.”
“Well, it’s not exactly easy to take a picture when you’re using both hands to play guitar, and I forgot to ask anyone to take picturesforme.”
“Next time, Rainier.” She sat down and motioned for me to dothesame.
We spent the next several minutes talking about the show. They wanted to know what it was like to play in front of all those people. Was Wild Bill’s as bad as people said? Could I remember all the songs? When was the nextperformance?
I looked over to my sister who was giving me an encouraging nod. “Mom, Dad, I actually thought you might want to come see thenextone.”
My mom clasped her hands together, and my dad took the opportunity to stand up, walk over, and put his hand on my shoulder. “We’ll be there. But now it’s time for your mother and me to get some rest. We’re so proud ofyou,son.”
“Thanks,Dad.”
“Goodnight.”
When they were finally out of earshot, my sister turned to me. “That wasn’tsobad.”
“Yeah, asking wasn’t the part I was worried about,” I said, before going down to my basement bedroom and going to sleepmyself.
ChapterFive
Michelle
Afew dayspassed before Dad asked me to work at the bookstore again. He said he was still figuring out what my regular schedule would be, but for now, I could expect to be on call. That meant I couldn’t make any real plans. He was theworst.
When I went into Between the Pages that morning, I half expected to see Rainier and his nerdy-self sitting behind the counter or putting books on the shelving around the store. Or, maybe even charming some more middle-aged women looking for theirladyporn.
I didn’t expect to see Jenny. I guessed she wasn’t sick anymore. I could already see the smug superiority written across her face with the fake cheerfulness in herexpression.
I didn’t say anything as I set my purse down on the counter. I gave Jenny a plastic smile of my own inreturn.
“Let’s just put everything out there, shall we?” Jenny crossed her arms over her chest. “You were a real jerk to me our senior year. I know you don’t like me, and I know you don’t want to be here, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you walk all over me like you did withRainier.”
“What are you talkingabout?”
“You didn’t think the store ran itself when you weren’t here, did you? We worked together yesterday, and I asked him what toexpect.”
They were already talking about me behind myback.Nice.
