The Song Remains the Same (39 page)

Phil

My Baby Girl was singing under her breath.

Kansas
.

Kenna was singing “Carry On Wayward Son” and humming the guitar riff, too. Of course she fuckin’ was. This was
Baby Girl
. She knew any and every song on the planet worth knowing.

After the EMTs had carried Brigid out, Connor had helped Kenna to her feet, and they’d sat quietly on the couch. Police had come with the 911 call, asking us all sorts of questions. They wouldn’t let Devon go with the ambulance. There had been no point.

Brigid was already gone.

I’d seen how hard Kenna had tried to bring life back into the girl I’d once known. Controlled, each movement she’d made was calculated to optimize Brigid’s chances of survival. In the end, it hadn’t mattered. Brigid had made sure of that. She’d injected enough heroin to kill even me, and on top of that, she had left a suicide note for Devon.

She’d had no intentions of ever coming back.

The cops had bagged up Brigid’s needle. Thank God Kenna had had the foresight not to touch anything without putting on gloves. It was actually one of them who’d found the note Brigid had written and left folded on the dining room table.

Dawn was creeping its way in before we were finally able to return to our own room, Kenna singing Kansas.

“Will you shower with me?” I asked her.

She nodded.

Standing before her, bone-weary and naked with the hot water spraying over us, I broke down. My heart hurt, and I sank to my knees to rest my head between my Baby Girl’s breasts. She filled me with her strength and love, just letting me pour my heart out in her arms.

“Kenna…” I choked.

Her fingers slid through my wet hair.

She hadn’t liked Brigid Von Deitrich, but she understood that Brigid had meant something to me, and she didn’t hold that against me.

Soft gray light filtered through the window as we climbed into bed. As we wrapped around each other, I was safe in her arms, and I fell asleep before she did.

“Baby Girl, wake up,” I said, gently shaking her shoulder.

The poor woman must’ve been beyond exhausted. Usually, I could get her up pretty quickly.

Sheri had been blowing up my damn phone, finally waking my ass up. When I had finally answered, she’d sounded like she’d been ugly-crying for a while.

“Wake up Kenna, and come to our room, Phil. It’s important,” she’d said.

After the night we’d all had, I didn’t think I could handle much more crap. I felt waist-deep already, emotionally strung up and wrung out, and I was just ready to go home.

“Kenna,” I said a little louder.

“Uhngh…” she half-grunted, half-whined.

“Emergency.”

Her eyes weren’t even open as she sat up. “What’s goin’ on?”

“I don’t know. Sheri said we had to wake up and come to her and Jason’s room.”

“Time is it?”

“Almost noon.”

Grunting, she slowly made to get out of bed. Taking pity on her half-asleep state, I picked her up and walked her into the bathroom where she plopped her ass on the toilet. Her eyes drooped shut and stayed shut, even after she’d finished.

“
If it keeps on rainin’, levee’s goin’ to break. When the levee breaks, I’ll have no place to stay
…”

Normally, it would make me smile, hearing her sing, but this gave me goose bumps.

“Kenna?”

“Yeah, Phil?”

“Come on, Baby Girl. We gotta go.”

“Why do I have to go to a band meeting? I’m only bangin’ the singer,” she snapped.

That made me laugh. “Yeah, I don’t know. Sheri said you had to, too.”

“
Vacation.
Not supposed to be this tired on fucking vacation. Allowed to sleep in,” she grumped.

Shit, she must seriously be out of it, too tired to use all the words needed to make complete sentences.

“We’ll come back after and get straight back into bed. I promise.”

Heaving a huge sigh, she stood up and flushed. Then, she walked to the sink to wash her hands and face and brush her teeth. I couldn’t help but admire how incredibly beautiful and natural she was, walking around naked in front of me.

Baby Girl didn’t even put on underwear. She just pulled on her jeans and a black tank top and twisted her hair up. She looked so fuckin’ cute, her eyes still not able to fully open, pillow creases etched into the left side of her face.

Unable to resist, I pulled her into a tight hug. “I love you.”

“Love you, too. Let’s do this.”

Out in the hall stood Flipper, Viv, and Connor.

“What the hell is goin’ on?” I asked.

Connor shook his head. “We all just got here.”

He knocked on the door, and Alys, her face streaked with tears, answered.

“You guys—” she choked, looking for and finding Kenna, throwing her arms around her. “Lili and Lewis are already here.”

Enough of this shit!

I stormed into the suite, finding X on his knees in front of the TV. His hands were fisted in his hair, and he had a pained, shocked look on his pale face.

“What the fuck is goin’ on?” I asked, starting to freak out.

X turned wide electric-blue eyes on me. “Phil…” he whispered, his voice breaking.

Looking at the TV, I didn’t know what I was seeing. My brain felt as though it was liquefying along with everything that was on the screen.

“…levees failed. Hurricane Katrina…worst natural disaster. New Orleans…”

“Is that…” I gasped.

Sheri came in from the bedroom, her face red, blotchy, and swollen. Jason followed right behind her. Tim, Lewis, and Lili sat on the couch, dumbstruck.

“Shut the fuck up!” shouted Flipper as they walked in behind us. “Is that
home
?”

“
Mean old levee taught me to weep and moan
…” Kenna sang under her breath.

A shiver crept down my spine—not the good kind either. Sometimes, my Baby Girl would say things that only weird hippie kids knew.

Looking down into her eyes, I knew the song had just come to her, like they came to me. Something had whispered it into her soul, and like any other song stuck in someone’s head, it had to be sung.

My eyes poured while hers were dry. Even though I saw her pain, she stuffed it down deep, singing sweetly to it in her soul.

“Cryin’ won’t help you, praying won’t do you no good,”
She continued singing.

“When the levee breaks, mama, you got to move,”
I sang softly to her.

“Everyone’s safe,” Sheri said softly.

“The Lower Ninth Ward is gone. The levee breached at the Industrial Canal. Houses aren’t just flooded. They’re
submerged
. We’re talking thousands of homes,
people
…” Tim said weakly.

Kenna gasped.

The people, the lives.

How many were lost?

“Gavin and Frank! Brian!”

Oh God, please let them be okay. Please let them be alive. Don’t take any more people from her. She’s lost so many already…

Taking a deep breath and then another, she willed herself into a calm frame of mind. It was a rare thing to see her almost lose her shit, and I’d witnessed that only a small handful of times.

Seriously, how the fuck does she do that? I’m fuckin’ shakin’ and bawlin’, freakin’ the fuck out. When has she ever just fuckin’ lost her shit?

When she couldn’t hear my voice, when I didn’t stand up for her in front of Brigid, after Brigid had her autograph that magazine…

Damn. She really only lost her shit over me.

“We’ll find them, Baby Girl.” I could barely get the words out.

She nodded. “I know.”

Pulling her into my arms, I wanted to be the one who comforted her, but I fuckin’ broke all over again. Brigid’s dead face flashed in my head. New Orleans on TV, swept away by the storm surge, all that we had worked so hard to come home to, worked so hard to build…it was
gone.
My family was probably homeless
. All
our families…

The weight of it drove me to my knees, and I pressed my face into Kenna’s belly and wept.

Kenna stood strong, taking my grief into herself. In that moment, if the world had truly threatened to fall, I had no doubt my Baby Girl would hold it up.

Being NOLA natives, we couldn’t let our tribe suffer without us. We caught a flight into Lafayette the next day. Siggie picked us up at the airport in the black van.

“Hey, guys!” she greeted us, looking tired but otherwise in a good mood. “Everyone’s excited to see you. Mr. D is getting a barbeque going.”

La Place had suffered little to no damage from Hurricane Katrina. Our neighborhood had power, clean water, and access to grocery stores. We’d been extremely lucky.

In the Garden District, where I’d grown up, the houses were under about three feet of water. Danielle and Martin also lived in the Garden District, and their house suffered about the same.

Kenna and Connor’s parents likely didn’t have a house left. They lived in Gentilly, and the flooding was so severe that homes were completely submerged. I hadn’t told Kenna yet, but I planned on buying the man and his wife a new house wherever they wanted.

Bougainvillea.
I had no idea what had happened to that place. Located on the western edge of the city, there was a possibility that it’d escaped the enormous flooding. Still, it seemed, each day, there were more levees being breached.

Dad, Danielle, Da, and Gloria tried to raise our spirits with the barbeque. It was just such a relief to see them doing well, to see that our home was standing, that we sort of just ate and then crashed. We were all just so fuckin’ done with everything.

X and Alys, the newlyweds, went to stay with her parents, who seemed really happy with their marriage but bummed that it was a quickie Vegas deal.

“We promise we’ll have a proper celebration when things settle down, okay?” Alys had told them while we all started digging into the food.

This time, I’d watched Connor’s reaction. That cat’s face had been smooth as glass, showing nothing. With Brigid’s death, I’d completely forgotten about that bizarre episode with him breaking down over Alys and X getting married.

I was determined to have Kenna tell me what the hell that had been all about.

“I don’t really know,” she told me, sounding exhausted, as we made our way up to the bedroom. “I just know that something happened between them at some point, but nothing came of it. I don’t even know when it happened. Alys doesn’t want to tell, and Connor seems to be on the same page.”

“I’m just thinkin’ how it could affect the band, is all,” I told her.

“I know.”

Getting ready for bed, I watched as she climbed under the sheets, all naked and gorgeous. We hadn’t had sex since before Brigid had ODed. With everything that was going on, our sex drive had crashed.

Slipping in next to her, I curved my body around hers, pulling her back against my chest. My hand rested on her thigh, and I kissed her shoulder. Her firm ass on my dick made all thoughts leave my brain and rush to the other head. Suddenly, I was desperate to be buried deep inside my home, to have her heal me from the inside out.

What if she fuckin’ says no?

I didn’t think I would take it graciously if she did. Maybe it would be best if I just…stopped. Avoided rejection altogether.

My hand caressing her hip and thigh stilled, and I pulled back.

My Baby Girl pushed back into my hard-on and whispered, “Don’t stop.”

“Oh, thank fuck,” I groaned, burying my face in her neck.

She smelled good enough to eat. Her adorable little giggle set me off, and I started dry-humping her sweet ass, kissing every part of her I could get my lips on. Slipping off her thigh, my hand snuck around front, finding her wet and ready.

“Goddamn.”

“Do it from behind,” she demanded.

Yes, fuckin’, ma’am!

Rolling her onto her belly, I grabbed a pillow and stuffed it under her hips. Then, I rolled my giant self on top. It wasn’t the sexiest way of doing it, but my balls had just woken the fuck up and realized they hadn’t had any fun in the last three days.