“That’s not how she told it.” He gives me a hard look. “What’s going on?”
“She doesn’t understand how many psychos are out there.”
Liam’s face softens. “So this isn’t about Bria at all. It’s about Abby.”
When I don’t respond, he touches my shoulder. “You’ve got to reel it in, brother, or you’re the one people will be calling psycho.”
I shrug his hand off. “I’m not a fucking psycho. I’m nothing like him.”
“Then do what Bria asked you to do. Prove it.”
“I’m supposed to sit back and let people grope her?”
“What’s going to happen if we really make a name for ourselves? She’s going to be sought out by lots of people. She may even get stalked by crazies. It happens all the time to celebrities. Are you going to kill all of them?”
I lunge at him. “Shut the hell up, Liam.”
He dodges me and raises his hands in surrender. “I shouldn’t have said that, but someone has to say something to snap you out of it. You’re going to lose her, man. Worse than that, RA might lose her.”
“Are you coming?” Brad calls from the van.
“I’m going to my mom’s,” I say.
“Good idea,” Liam says. “Take a few days and figure this shit out.”
Ronni comes out after they drive away. “Trouble in paradise?”
I snort and turn away.
“You know that little stunt you pulled inside? It’s not going to work. My opinion is the only one that matters.”
“You’ll completely ignore the results if our new scene tests better than yours?”
“Your way is a fairy tale, and people are sick of them.”
“You’re wrong. People want a happily ever after.”
“But that’s not always what life gives us, is it?”
“You’re goddamn right about that.”
“Looks like you could use a drink. I know a good bar around the corner.”
I can’t believe I contemplate going, because a drink sounds good right now. But I’m already in the doghouse. I don’t need to make things worse, and drinking with Ronni would make things a whole lot worse.
“Thanks, but I’m going to my mom’s. See you.”
“My door’s always open.”
I’m sure it is, I think, among other things.
~ ~ ~
“Chris, you’ve been moping around here all day,” Mom says. “Is everything okay?”
“We’ve been going full speed for weeks, and we have gigs this weekend. I’m resting up.”
“How about coming to dinner with Gary and me?”
“Thanks, but I’m going to get takeout and work on a few new songs.”
She sits next to me and takes my hand in hers. “Did you ever write the one we talked about?”
“You mean the one you talked about.” I shrug. “Some of it. It’s not the easiest song to write, you know.”
“That’s what makes it necessary.”
Gary comes in. “Ready, honey?”
Mom kisses my cheek. “Don’t wait up. We might catch a show after dinner.”
After they leave, I belatedly notice a vase of flowers and a card. It’s their anniversary. Damn, I forgot.
Mom and Gary are a lot alike. They were both left by their spouses, both devastated by the person they loved. But they moved on and found each other. I try to rationalize that happy endings are possible. If they can do it, why not me?
Because it’s different. Because Abby didn’t stop loving me, she died.
I get a beer, sit at the table, and stare at my phone, hoping Bria will call. She’s walked away from me twice. I open the app that tracks her phone and try not to think of how obsessively I’ve done it over the past twenty-four hours. She’s been at home mostly, but she’s not there now.
She’s moving. Must be in a cab. I follow her progress for hours, refreshing my screen every so often to keep up with her. She’s barhopping.
I leave my fourth beer half-full and walk out the door. Thirty minutes later, a cab is dropping me off in front of an English pub in downtown Manhattan. It’s crowded for a Thursday. Groups of people go in and out of the front door. I follow one of them in.
The place is dark. Most of the tables are full. Lots of men are watching the baseball game on TV. I stand to one side and scan until I see her. She’s with the two friends I met at our gig last month. She’s smiling and laughing. I find a place at the bar where I can see them without them seeing me.