Looking Back From L.A. (4 page)

"You okay son?" My dad asked handing me a shot of whiskey; we were alone in the huge room. I downed the shot and collapsed onto the sofa, not needing to keep up the pretence in front of Dad.

"Yeah, I'm fine; just reminiscing." He smiled knowingly at me. "What?"

“Calm down and save all that for the wedding night son.” He winked at me, making me groan.

“Do you have to?” I held my head in my hands, rest my elbows on my knees. It wasn’t often that I blushed, but I could feel my face heating up.

“Of course I do,” He clapped his large hand on my shoulder. "You looked a bit flushed is all I’m saying."

I shifted uncomfortably, before excusing myself to the bathroom; was nothing sacred today? Callaghan winding me up for thinking about Charlotte, my dad catching me practically jerking off to a damn memory; that was the effect Charlotte had on me, even after all this time. Splashing cool water on my face helped a little. Through the door, I could hear the guys had returned and were helping themselves to the whiskey Dad had brought with him for the occasion. If they weren’t careful, they were going to be shit faced before the ceremony. I loved that ragtag bunch of guys like blood, but I would have liked a bit more time on my own with Dad.

Ignoring the catcalling for me to go and join in with the drinking for a moment, I sat on the edge of the tub and thought back to the last time Dad and I were able to spend alone.

The tour was done with, just in time for Christmas. We got the truck and SUV back to L.A, took a couple of hours to get our gear unloaded and into storage, making sure it was protected while we were all out of town.

Getting the chance to go home and see family was the only thing that had kept us going through the last few shows. Lack of a decent night’s sleep and constant travelling had been taking its toll on all of us. I finished up helping unloading the truck, and then said my goodbyes to Diamond and the guys. I gave Becky and Johnny D a hug each and made my way over to my car that was parked in the lot outside the storage unit.

Making only a quick stop at my apartment to grab a shower, needing to wash the road off me, and to pack a bag of clothes. There was another bag in my closet full of presents for my family which was loaded into the trunk of my car with care; within two hours, I was on the road to Texas. Every time I made this trip, Terri told me I was insane to drive for an entire day rather than hop a flight which lasted less than four hours. I’d lost count since I’d moved to L.A of how many times I’d had to explain that I loved driving long distances. It gave me some much needed alone time, during which I could think and assess anything and everything.

For the entire journey this time around, I was distracted by a pair of amazing legs, green eyes that reminded me of a lake not far from my parent’s home, and a British accent I could listen scream my name for hours on end. I hadn’t had the chance to say goodbye to her; we’d checked out early to get on the road to the next town for the last two shows of the tour. While I waited outside, having a smoke, one of her friends came out, still in her bedclothes— any other time I would have been tempted, but all we did was exchange pleasantries. As Callaghan called out to me to get going, I quickly asked her to explain to Charlotte why I’d left without seeing her. It was strange, I didn’t owe her any kind of explanation, but I felt she deserved one.

With her promise resonating in my ears, I climbed into the SUV and distanced myself from the rest of the guys by putting my ear buds in and drowning out their chatter with some music. Even though I had her cell number in my own, I knew I’d never dial it, and I’d never see her again. Feeling like shit, I realized that the entire encounter needed to remain as it was; hopefully, she’d look back on it, and me, fondly.

By the time I arrived at Mom and Dad’s place, I was exhausted. Mom met me on the drive and escorted me straight into my childhood bedroom, bypassing Dad, Terri, her fiancée, and my younger sister Sophie so I could crash. When I emerged almost fourteen hours later, the house was quiet so I headed into the kitchen to make some coffee. Mom, bless her heart, had already prepped the machine; all I had to do was flick it on. While the smell of the Gods filled the room, I sat on one of the stools at the counter and flicked through Dad’s newspaper.

As I poured my second cup of coffee, Mom, Dad, and Terri walked in, their arms laden with bags of groceries.

“You should have woken me to help.” I took a bag off my mom and began unloading it, putting the groceries away out of habit.

“You needed sleep honey.” She told me, kissing my cheek. “You can help now... after you shower.” I laughed at her crinkled nose.

“Yes ma’am.” Draining my now cold coffee, I planted a kiss on her cheek and walked out of the kitchen.

“Son.” Dad called out as I walked up the stairs. “When you’re dressed, we’re under orders to go and pick up some fresh firewood and the tree.

“Sure thing. Give me a half hour.” I jogged up the rest of the stairs and into my room. As promised, I was showered, dressed, and back downstairs within thirty minutes, and found Dad waiting in the kitchen where Mom, Terri, and Sophie were starting the food preparation. There were still six days until Christmas, but as we often had upwards of fifteen people, a regimented routine spearheaded by my mother was necessary. I’d missed Thanksgiving thanks to the tour, so I was determined to immerse myself in my family as much as I could over the rest of the holidays.

“You ready boy?” Dad stood up, the keys to his truck in his hand.

“Let’s go.” I watched as Chris, my future brother-in-law, gave Terri a kiss and follow us out.  “Hey dude.” We shared a fist bump as we followed Dad out to his truck.

It took us two hours to stock up with fire wood and to pick the ‘perfect’ tree. As ever, Dad dithered around making sure it wasn’t dropping too many needles and there wasn’t any browned off branches. We went through this every year, and still he could never decide. It always ended up being a coin toss between two trees; and every year, we’d get back to the house and dad would wonder if we’d made the right choice.

Once we got back and situated the tree in the lounge to settle before it was decorated, Mom and Terri announced that as the kitchen was out of action for a couple of days, we were going to head out to grab some food at Tessie’s— a place we’d been frequenting for years. Not only was it a diner, but also a bar with dancing and singing.

I knew that I would be pushed up on stage to sing by my parents, it was a family tradition. Whenever we went to Tessie’s, I had to get up and sing Ring of Fire for my Mom as it was her favorite song, ever.

“Hey sweetheart. It’s good to have you back.” Tessie’s daughter, Maria, smiled at me as we crowded around a table to eat.

“Thanks darlin’, it’s good to be home.”

“How long are you staying this time?”

“Long enough.” My answer made her laugh, it always did; we’d been dancing this dance for years. When she’d taken our food and drink orders, she left us alone and Mom leaned over and pasted my knee.

“I still say that girl would be perfect for you honey.” She’d been saying the same since I’d turned seventeen.

“Momma, I love you, but that is never gonna happen. I thought you’d worked that out already.” I gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“I know, but I can wish; is it so wrong for me to want you to be happy?”

“No, it’s not, and I love you for that.” I never usually shut her down this much whenever she brought up me settling down and moving back home to Texas, Usually, I just played along and let her words fly over my head, but this time was different; the memory of Charlotte was still fresh in my mind, even almost two weeks later.

“Margaret, honey. Drop it for tonight.” Dad gave me a strange look as he spoke softly. Judging by the look he gave me, I knew we’d be having a talk at some point during my stay.

I’d performed, making Mom cry— as she did every time I sang her song. She, my sisters, and Chris had headed back to the house, leaving me and Dad behind to have a father/son catch up. I sat on a bar stool, watching Dad finish up his game of pool, nervous for some reason. I’d always known I could speak to either of my parents about anything and they’d never judge or look down at me, but knowing Dad had caught my snippiness with Mom made feel like a teenager caught out past curfew.

As he joined me, I handed him a fresh whiskey and waited for him to speak.

“What was with the attitude towards your mom, son?” He looked me straight in the eye, making me feel about ten inches tall.

“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to come across as snippy. I’ll apologize when we get back to the house.”

“Make sure you do, she only wants you to be happy.” I couldn’t help the sigh escaping from me before I spoke.

“I know she does, I just don’t think we have the same ideas about what would make me happy right now.”

That piqued his interest.

“What’s her name?” He cut straight to what the point of what I wasn’t saying.

“Do you mind if I say I don’t want to talk about it right now?”

“Of course not, just know I’m here when you do want to.” He finished his drink and stood up, placing his large hand on my shoulder. “We best get back if we want to be able to enjoy the holidays.” He always did know how to relieve tension, especially when I was feeling stressed.

We decided to leave the truck in the lot and walk back to the house. It wasn’t far, and throughout the whole time, Dad quizzed me about life on the road with the band, and what acting work I had coming up. He’d always been so interested in my career, even if it wasn’t quite what he expected of me.

The next morning, everyone was put to work by Mom to ensure that we were ready for the visitors who were going to arrive over the next few days. Terri and Sophie were still helping with food prep, Dad was smoking meat out in the smoker, and Chris was polishing the ‘good’ cutlery and rinsing the ‘holiday’ dinner service. While all this was going on, Mom made me vacuum every inch of the house, upstairs and down, making it clear she hadn’t forgiven me for copping a ‘tude with her despite apologizing.

After a solid three hours of making sure there wasn’t a speck of dust even considering setting up residence in the house, I went into the kitchen to grab a cold soda from the refrigerator.

“Once you’ve had that, can you drive to the store to get some cranberry sauce?” Mom asked as she sliced and diced.

“Sure thing.” I placed a kiss on her cheek, not missing the smile on her face indicating that my manual labor had done enough to earn her full forgiveness. Grabbing my keys and a jacket, I walked out to my truck. I was just about to pull away, when a huge SUV pulled up— the family had started to arrive. Before I was roped into more work, I started the engine and drove off, sparing my aunt and uncle a wave and a smile.

Christmas with the Westons was always great fun, but being out of practice of having fifteen people in one house, five of whom are under the age of seven, was hard work. By the time Christmas Day was done with, I was itching to get out of the house, even just for an hour or so. Dad must have sensed it, because the morning after the big day, he came into the kitchen and handed me my old shotgun. Without a word, I followed him out to his truck, a box of shells resting on the dash.