“You should see our real bus,” he told me, turning to grin over his shoulder. “It is a tricked-out double-decker piece of art that Rico is super protective of.”
“Oh yeah?”
He nodded. “We took it out to Miami, Oklahoma, so the elders in Rico’s tribe could bless it. After that, God help us if we tried to bring drugs or alcohol even near the door. That was just not going to happen.”
I nodded. “So you let Rico make a rule like that?”
He turned to look at me over his shoulder. “He took us out there to receive the blessing because he feels like me and the guys are his to watch over, so yeah. We trashed a whole hell of a lot of hotel rooms, but not our bus. Never our bus.”
“Okay,” I said softly as we stopped in front of three guys lounging in three different seats. I had googled Nick’s band, of course, and knew who I was looking at, and was interested to see what kind of reception I would get.
“Loc, these are the guys,” Nick said, tipping his head at the three men, and then introduced them, pointing to each. “That’s Merce Scott, he’s on bass; Silas Alden, guitar; and Flint Burroughs, drums. Guys, this is my partner, Locryn Barnes.”
Silas stood, and I wasn’t sure what I saw on his face, but his hands were fisted at his sides, and his feet were braced apart as he took a breath before turning to his right and waving toward the back. A woman got up and came forward hesitantly, taking small steps, biting her bottom lip, brows furrowed as she moved.
“Since you told us last night that Loc would be along on this trip,” Silas began, squinting at Nick, “then I figured that it would be all right if I invited Meira.”
Silence.
In that moment I understood that in the past, there had probably been a fair amount of discussion or tension or even strife based around who did and did not get to travel with the band. From how everyone was looking at Nick, I was guessing that whatever rule had been put into place had been his.
He took a deep breath, let go of my hand, and took a step forward. “I’m sorry for being a dick about that before, Si,” he said, and then glanced at all three men. “I thought that we couldn’t really be ourselves, you know, if there were other people along who reminded us of who we were at home.”
The silence continued, and I knew there were a lot more people on the bus, but no one was saying a word or even making a sound.
“Like us being able to make music or have fun or be real together would be jeopardized by having other people around.”
Even though they played with Nick, they were basically his band, and he made the rules. I knew he paid them a mint, and they got royalties from album sales and were paid again when they toured, but basically, they owed their living to him. So they had done what he’d asked, and whether they’d argued with him, or if it had escalated, exploded into more, I didn’t know. What was clear was that he’d gotten what he wanted and now had to eat some crow.
“I think,” he said, taking a breath, “that the reason I was confused was because I haven’t had a home since my mother died.”
“Oh,” Meira whimpered, and the moment she made a noise of sympathy, her heart going out to Nick, Silas deflated. His shoulders fell, his hands opened, and he exhaled like he was getting rid of something buried deep.
“What I never understood, until now, is that the people who are your home actually bring out the best in you, so why wouldn’t you want them with you so the whole world could see you as they do?”
Silas rubbed his eyes and the bridge of his nose as Meira rushed forward, her eyes filling fast, reaching for Nick as she moved.
He was grinning as he opened his arms, but he was careful as he hugged her since the auburn-haired, green-eyed, freckled beauty was clearly very pregnant.
Merce, which I thought was pronounced mercy but was actually murse, like nurse with an M, was smiling up at Nick, watching him rub circles on Meira’s back. “Well damn, Nick,” he said on a long exhale, rising from his seat. “Look who went and grew up on us.”
When they all hugged him, it felt like the tension flew right off the bus.
“Nick,” I said softly, having finished the brief on my phone that Mavis Barrington, Nick’s lawyer, had sent him. I turned to check to see how he was feeling about it all, as he was reading it right along with me.
He was asleep.
“Hey,” I said softly, gently moving my shoulder that he was passed out on. “Did you finish it?”