“I’m having her stop by for Sunday dinner if that’s okay.”
“Fine by me.”
My phone vibrates. Taking it from my pocket, I sigh and hit answer. “Hello, Kathy.”
“What the hell do you think you’re pulling?”
“Excuse me?”
“Removing my daughter’s parental rights. You’re not even their real father.”
“I believe a court of law would beg to differ, and if I’m not mistaken, Monica has how much longer on her sentence?”
“That’s not the point.”
“Then what is? Because I’m trying to make sure my children are covered and cared for in the event that anything happens to me.”
“I’m not going to let you get away with this. We have rights.”
“Have I ever kept you from the girls?” I ask.
“Your family gets them more than we do.”
“I understand that you’re upset. I highly suggest you take some time to get yourself together before this gets uglier than it needs to be.”
“Oh, it’s too late for all that.”
“Okay, I’m going to go now, Kathy.” I disconnect, shaking my head.
“What was that all about?” Mom asks.
“Kathy finally going off the deep end thanks to Monica.”
“Lord, that family is nonstop drama.”
“They’re so broken. I don’t think they even know where to start to fix themselves.” I used to think I could help. I’ve played mediator between mother and daughter, paid for rehab stints and counseling, only to come to the conclusion that they don’t want it. I can’t make them do the work.
“Whatever she’s up to, we’re covered.”
We lapse into silence as we drink our coffee.
“I’m surprised you aren’t in the studio today.”
“They’re working on mixing a few things. I’ll check on them tomorrow. I need the time away, to be honest. I was losing my ability to be objective.”
“You’ve been working so hard, I’m not surprised.”
“I know I had such a small window of time to put in work. Recording on the road rarely turns out as well as allocating time to focus solely on the recording. The flights squeezed in between shows are torturous.” I shake my hand. Never again unless it’s an em
ergency.
“I’m happy to see you drawing some boundaries.”
“I just realized I was burning the wick at both ends and it was affecting every area of my life. I had to slow down and reevaluate things.” Days blurred together as I stumbled through life in a zombie-like stagger. I was so hungry and eager to prove myself to everyone I lost sight of what mattered most: the music and the message it brings. Back on track, I feel like I found my balance.
***
We walk the tightly packed rows of Findlay Market, taking in the unique offerings. It’s a tradition that we get Belgian waffles from the food shop in the center and make our way up the row in one direction and then the other.