chest to get the freak show inside me back under control. “That—That would be beyond my wildest dreams.”
“Calm down. I’m not at the stage when I can tell the studio what I want. But I’d love that song to be on the album. And if possible, you as well.”
I blessed that night back in Oxford when Sam had strong-armed me into singing as a warm-up for The Libs. It might have been one of those moments you looked back on later in life and say in a wise, old, croaking voice, ‘That’s when things started to happen. That’s when my life changed.’
“I’d love to sing Sweet Second with you tonight.” It was the best song I’d ever written, a bit too pop-rock, granted, but still my best one. I felt all antsy about going on stage to share it with the world. Anticipation crept from my stomach to my heart and all the way on up into my head. It got all fuzzy up there.
In the back of the bus, my cell beeped. And now I was antsier, but for different reasons.
“Go and check it. That husband of yours won’t survive long without hearing the husky sound of your voice.” Shawn put his hand over his heart as if in pain. I was already half-way down the corridor when he added, “Say ‘hey’ and ‘thanks’ from me.”
“Thanks? For what?”
“If he hadn’t screwed up in the past, I wouldn’t have one of my best songs today.”
I shuffled from side to side on my feet. Shawn had guessed Sweet Second was kind of auto-biographical. Duh , what else did I expect? The song was about two people getting married in high school, then losing each other, and finally getting back together.
“He didn’t screw up. I did.”
I reached my bed and crawled inside to hide. Curtain drawn, I checked my cell. My fingertips were tingling in anticipation. I needed to read his words.
Josh (7:34): Checking connections from Dulles to Phoenix. I HAVE to see you. Another day without you and I’ll be ready for the men in white coats.”
The gigantic smile that broke across my face must have been Joker-like. Second chances tasted real sweet. What was he going to say though about my next baby-step toward fame?
Except it wasn’t a baby-step anymore.
CHAPTER 10
Josh
There’d been Cassie’s flight to D.C. last week that had been delayed by three hours. Today, my flight to Phoenix had been unceremoniously cancelled. No reason given. Just fucking cancelled. I’d managed to book myself onto another flight later in the day. I’d make it, but only for her gig. I’d wanted to take her for dinner or something, but it wasn’t going to happen now. She was the warm-up act so I might not even be there in time to see her.
Luckily they were staying overnight at a hotel in Phoenix. A Phoenix hotel wasn’t where I wanted our second ‘first time’ to take place, but at least I’d have a few hours alone with Cass in my arms. It wasn’t much, but I’d take anything I could get at this stage. Beggars can’t be choosers and all that.
I didn’t pay attention to life outside the cab I’d managed to highjack at the airport. By the time we’d made it to the concert venue I’d stopped checking my watch as well. There was no need to. If I struck it lucky, the gig wouldn’t be over yet.
I handed a note to the driver. “Man, wait for your change,” he shouted after me, but I was already half-way out the door.
“Keep it.” I rushed inside the building.
I’d sworn to her that I’d be there to watch her sing, as I’d only seen her perform twice before. The first time at a fair near Steep Hill light years ago. The second time was back in Oxford. Not my best memory, but it had nothing to do with Cassie’s singing, and everything to do with finding out that I was a father. To a five-year-old boy named Lucas.
I hadn’t felt chipper that night.
The pounding in my head increased with each step I took closer the entrance. To get backstage I’d have to squeeze through the crowd. Inside it was as hot as the Arizona Desert. The Libs
Orson Scott Card
Arthur Bradford
Tara Sivec
Cora Blu
Jonathan Kellerman
Stan Hayes
David Duchovny
Anand Neelakantan
Carter Crocker
Bridget Midway