Rock Star (34 page)

“Mama, he’s a big rock star. I don’t know if I can be with a rock star,” Callie sighed miserably.

“Callie, didn’t you know what the man did for a living from the beginning?” Edith asked exasperatedly.

Callie nodded, “Yeah, Mama, you know I did.”

“And if you didn’t think you could handle it, why did you jump in bed with him?”

“Mama!” Callie gasped. Her mother never commented on her sex life. Of course, up to now she hadn’t had much of one to engender any discussion.

“Please!” Edith sniffed indignantly. “Your father and I were young once, you know. I know what it feels like to be all hot and bothered over a man.” She grinned knowingly. “Besides, you young folks act like y’all invented sex. How do you think you got here?”

Callie covered her ears, wrinkling her nose with distaste. She really didn’t want to think about her parents having sex. “Mama, I don’t want to give up my life. I have my future all planned out, and I don’t know if I can have that with Bryan.”

Edith gave her daughter a look of patent disbelief. What was this child doing? Callie had never been one to run and hide. What was going on? Her voice sharp with exasperation, Edith replied, “Callie, don’t you think that maybe, just maybe, you need to discuss this with Bryan? Why are you putting up all these roadblocks?” She frowned, leaning forward on the table as she recognized the real source of her daughter’s anxiety. She hesitated, knowing Callie wasn’t ready to hear this, but nothing would be resolved until she did. “Now baby, I know this is going to hurt your feelings, but you know I wouldn’t tell you this if it wasn’t true. I don’t think any of this has anything to do with Bryan. I think you’d be acting crazy with whatever man you happened to fall in love with.”

“Mama, what…”

Edith held up her hand to silence Callie’s interruption. “Hold on there, baby. If you think about it, you’ll know I’m telling the truth. All your life you’ve had to be in control of everything. That’s why you hardly ever dated. Being in love is too messy, too uncertain for you. I remember even as a skinny little girl, you refused to participate in any games that you didn’t have complete control over. Everything had to be in exact, precise order. You’re the only child I know who didn’t like surprises. You wanted to know everything well in advance, and hated last minute changes or anything impulsive.”

Callie couldn’t catch her breath to formulate a response; she’d had no idea that she came across that way. Over the years people had teased her about her controlling personality. Tonya could keep up a running monologue on the topic, but it had never occurred to her that it might be the cause of her romantic ambivalence.

Edith continued, “I guess maybe at least some of this is our fault. We probably didn’t let you have enough say in your life as you were coming up. We’ve tried to do better with your sisters. That’s the good thing about parenting more than one child; you get to learn from your mistakes and improve your technique. But that’s neither here or there now. I know you were happy with Bryan, Callie, and I know you have been absolutely pitiful these past few weeks. And it hasn’t just been those nosy reporters and assorted other crazy people you’ve had to deal with. You’ve been handling crazy folks for years. Every nut in Maple Fork hangs out in this store. Most of your so-called customers either are or need to be medicated. You encourage it with all those classes and groups you have here, so you’ve got to be used to them by now. No, you’re unhappy because that boy is not here, and you might as well admit it. Now, you’re a grown woman, and I can’t tell you what to do, but, baby, you’ve got to know how foolish this is. Either you want the man or you don’t. If you want him, none of this other stuff matters. You’ll take him regardless of what he does for a living.”

She paused for a moment, evidently searching for a way to illustrate her point. “Callie, what would you do if instead of being a rock star, Bryan was blind or handicapped in some way? Would you break up with him then?”

Callie was indignant. What kind of woman did her mother think she was? “Of course not, I would stay with him and help him.”

“So why can’t you look at his career as something of a handicap that you have to help him with? Inconvenient for sure, but it doesn’t change who he is.” Edith Lawson knew from Callie’s stunned expression that she had scored a direct hit. It was time to leave her to reflect on what they’d discussed. She was confident that this daughter who was so much like herself in temperament would make the right decision. She got up from the table. “I’ll leave you to think about that. There’s really nothing more for me to say.” As she walked past her daughter, she wrapped her arms around her shoulders and gave her a kiss on the top of her down-turned head. “I love you, baby. I hope you’ll make a decision you can live with.”

Callie closed her eyes as she inhaled the Youth Dew fragrance her mother always wore. The scent of lilies and cinnamon evoked sweet memories of other times she’d been consoled. This time, however, was different. Mama wouldn’t be able to fix this. She was on her own this time. With eyes that reflected her mental anguish and discord, she watched as her mother departed the kitchen.

Callie waited until she heard the front door of the apartment close behind her mother, then leaned back in her chair. Was what her mother said true? Was she some type of commitment-phobic control freak? She had to concede that she liked to be in charge of things because she knew she could do them right. She paused, that thought reverberating through her head. Oh God! That had to be the first article of faith of every control freak on the planet! Okay, she admitted with sudden self-knowledge, she was somewhat controlling, but did that explain her confusion and conflict about her relationship with Bryan? Her mother’s statement whirred through her mind: “Either you want the man or you don’t.” That was the core of the matter right there. Bryan’s career was tiresome, and would be a pain in the ass from time to time, but it didn’t change who he was, or how she felt about him. Oh God! What if she’d ruined everything by being silly and stupid? She took several deep breaths. Her next move was clear, as it had been for weeks. But she’d been trying desperately to run from the truth. She prayed with that same intensity for the strength to follow through on the only decision she could live with.

* * *

Bryan looked out over the sold-out crowd in Madison Square Garden. This was their third sold-out show there and the last show of the truncated Storm Crow tour. Nineteen thousand eager fans had paid upward of fifty dollars each to see this show, and the band was determined to do their best. They were famous for giving very long performances, and this was one of their longest, clocking in at over three hours. The adrenaline surge of playing before a packed house had carried them through countless songs, each one played more intensely than the previous one. They had their fans in the palms of their hands and they knew it; it was now only a matter of bringing the show to a close with a bang, and they had just the song to do it. The arena was a sea of pinpoint lights as thousands of cigarette lighters flickered in response to the opening chords of “Portrait,” the only ballad the band had ever played. Bryan was pretty much over his cold, and was capable of singing the song unaided, but Thad still joined him on the chorus, and their harmony had lost none of its emotional impact. His body slack with physical and emotional exhaustion, Bryan held the microphone tightly as he crooned the ode to his unrequited love. His despair over his loss fueled the song’s poignancy and many in the audience were openly weeping. Bryan felt like crying himself; he had been so sure that Callie would call in the week since he returned from Alabama. He simply didn’t know what else he could do to apologize for the mockery his fame had made of her life.

He blinked rapidly, his eyes moistening with sudden tears as another wave of hopelessness washed over him. And that’s when he felt it, the vibration of the cell phone he had kept in his pocket for months. Much to his own surprise, he hadn’t lost the thing once. Kelly claimed that it had to be some sort of record. He paused for a moment. Perhaps he was mistaken. Then it buzzed again. It could only be Callie; no one else had the number. Unwilling to risk losing this opportunity, only God knew if she would call again, he immediately raised his arm to stop his bandmates’ playing, then reached into his pocket for the telephone. Thad and Jon who were standing on either side of him both moved over closer to see what was going on. They quickly realized that he was answering the telephone, and Thad relayed that information to Twist who sat behind his drum kit shaking his head in disgust. The crowd could see a close-up of Bryan on the huge wide-screen monitors on either side of the stage so they knew what was happening. Most of the crowd had followed Bryan and Callie’s tale and had little doubt as to who the caller was. The murmur that had begun when Bryan stopped playing rose to a thunderous crescendo when their guess was confirmed by Bryan’s ecstatic expression as Callie told him, “No, Bryan, this time, I’m coming to you.”

* * *

From the wings of the stage B.T. watched Bryan’s activities avidly. Fortunately Bryan was not able to see his face, because he could not hide his gleeful expression as he watched Bryan answer the telephone. Despite his recent setbacks, he knew a marketing bonanza when one was handed to him. He turned to Kelly. “What brand of cell phone is Bryan using?” he asked sharply.

Kelly, totally enraptured by the romance of the scene, looked up at B.T. quizzically. “What?”

B.T. waved his hand dismissively as he walked away reaching for his own cell phone. It really didn’t matter. With today’s technology, he could have a bidding war to put any number of brands in his star’s hand. Bryan couldn’t even complain about the boredom of shooting a commercial. He’d already done the hard part. Even better, he had done it without any manipulation, so he couldn’t blame it on his manager. B.T. grinned widely as one of his favorite marketing executives came on the line. “Paul,” he began in his best “Let’s Make a Deal” tone, “you’re not going to believe what just happened here.” His Southern drawl deepened as he switched the cigar to the other side of his mouth and continued his pitch. “It’s a gold mine you’d be a fool to pass up…”

Kelly turned to stare at B.T.’s retreating back. It hadn’t taken long for the old boy to return to the art of the deal, she thought ruefully. She’d missed him. She had to admit, begrudgingly, that old shyster kept things hopping.

* * *

After she finished speaking with Bryan, Callie wandered into her bedroom and sat on the edge of her bed contemplating what she’d just done. She felt a warm tingly glow all over, just as she always did after talking to him. More than anything, that feeling convinced her that she’d done the right thing. She looked down at the fiery glow of the heart-shaped ring he’d given her. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to take it off, even though it had spawned even more gossip about their relationship. He’d known all along they were fated to be together, that she was, as he called it, his mate. What had taken her so long to come to the same conclusion? Impatient now with all the time she’d wasted, she jumped off the bed and rushed over to her closet, pulling her suitcase down from an upper shelf. Realizing that she would need assistance to get packed quickly, she called out to Tonya, who immediately rushed into the room.

“What’s going on?” she asked, frowning with concern at the urgent nature of Callie’s call. Seeing her friend with a suitcase, she hurried over to her side. “Where on earth are you going, girl?” For a brief moment she wondered if Callie had decided to follow through on her threat to relocate to Fiji.

When Callie turned to face her, the beatific glow on her face gave mute testimony to what had transpired, and Tonya grinned in return. “You called him?”

Callie grabbed her friend in an enthusiastic hug, almost screaming in her excitement. “Yes! Yes! I did!” Then she giggled. “You’re not going to believe this, but he was on stage at Madison Square Garden!”

“You’re kidding!”

“No! And he answered the telephone in front of thousands of people.” Callie couldn’t stop laughing, her effervescent mirth indicative of her relief from the burden she’d been laboring under for weeks. It felt so good to be happy again. The release of it all made her giddy and lightheaded.

“Girl, will you stop laughing and tell me what he said?” The joy was contagious and Tonya began bubbling with merriment also.

Callie sobered, hesitating as she pulled open her lingerie drawer. “He wants me to come to New York, Tonya. Actually he was coming here, but I think after all the changes I’ve put him through, I should go there.”

Tonya nodded approvingly. “Yeah, I think you’re right. When are you leaving? Have you gotten a ticket or anything?”

Callie paused. She’d grown so accustomed to traveling with Bryan and the way his ‘people’ handled everything, she hadn’t thought about making travel arrangements. She glanced down at her watch; she really needed to get packed as soon as possible. She continued pulling clothes out of her chest of drawers.

“Tonya, can you go online for me…” Callie faltered as her cell phone began to ring. It was Kelly, Bryan’s personal assistant, calling to confirm flight arrangements for the next day. Callie collapsed on the bed in another fit of giggles, Oh God, she loved that man!

“Dammit, Kelly, can’t you drive any faster?” Bryan yelled, frustrated that a simple trip to the airport was taking so long. He knew he should’ve gone to Callie; he hated waiting around like this. After Callie’s call last night he’d rushed to his dressing room as soon as possible to make travel arrangements for her. Fortunately Madison Square Garden had excellent security, and the band got to their dressing room without having to navigate the usual gauntlet of zealous fans and assorted hangers-on. Jon in particular preferred solitude after a show, and usually wanted only Cinnamon there to help him with his headaches. Bryan had been thrilled to discover that Kelly, with her usual efficiency, had already arranged Callie’s transportation to New York City. In his delight Bryan had picked his petite assistant up in a bear hug and offered her a twenty percent pay increase. Of course his bandmates had followed him into his dressing room and had a great time teasing him about his behavior on stage. They were pretty sure that no one had ever answered the telephone during a concert before. Of course, Bono had made those legendary calls to President Bush during a U2 tour, but answering a call was an entirely different matter.