I ate and then got put on the hot seat.
“Hel o? Stel a? You in the room?” Ava asked.
“Sorry, my mind wandered,” I said.
“I’l bet.” Stevie smiled kindly at me. “After last night there are lots of places for it to wander.”
I smiled back at him for his quiet understanding.
“Are you gonna spil or what?” Al y was getting impatient, interrupting Stevie and my moment and not having the time for quiet understanding.
“Al y –” Jules started softly.
“I’l spil ,” I suddenly announced.
Everyone’s eyes turned to me and, deciding to get it over with quickly and get them off my back, I started talking.
“It isn’t that interesting. Mace and I met, he asked me out, I went and we connected. It went fast, got intense quickly. It was good. No, it was great. Then he broke up with me. The end.”
Everyone’s eyes turned to everyone else.
Then Al y said, “Give me a break.”
“No, real y. That’s it, in a nutshel ,” I told her and it was.
“Why did he break up with you if it was great?” Roxie asked.
“I used him up,” I explained.
“What?” Jet asked.
“I used him up. I needed him too much. Took too much and didn’t give enough.”
“These boys have got a lot to give,” Daisy replied, sounding confused.
“Yes, I know and he did give a lot and I took al he gave.
The band always cal ing and me…” I stopped, looked back out the window and started again, “He had a job, he was always working something for Lee then he’d come to me, someone would cal and he’d be out again, doing something for Pong or Buzz or Linnie or whoever. I’d stay home while Mace took care of my business. I was so tired of it.”
My gaze swung back to the gang and I continued.
“Don’t get me wrong, I love my band but sometimes, wel , let’s just say I needed a break. Mace gave it to me.
We were together for five months. He always took the cal s, dealt with the crises. I slept. I never said, ‘You sleep, I’l deal with it.’”
”Or, better yet, tel your band to sort it out their damn self,” Daisy cut in.
“They can’t,” I told Daisy.
“They won’t if someone keeps doing it for them,” Indy told me, making it sound simple.
I closed my mouth and looked out the window again. She didn’t get it. I was the leader of a moderately successful local band. The leader of the band did what they could to keep the band together. It was an Unwritten Rock Band Law. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes it didn’t. But if a band was good, especial y as good as The Gypsies, you did al you could to make it work before you ever considered cal ing it quits.
“Seems to me that was something you could talk about, work on,” Ava suggested.
“It wasn’t just that. It was more,” I told Ava.
“More?” Roxie asked.