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All too soon we’re in front of the hotel. I follow JD out of the car with Harrison behind me. There are a few paparazzi standing on the street and the minute they see us, their cameras are raised. Normally, I wouldn’t mind, but not today. I keep my head down as I walk into the hotel which will now be my sanctuary. That and the bar next door. No media are allowed in either place and that makes it perfect for me.
Harrison and I follow JD into the restaurant. He uses his British charm to snag us a private table away from unsuspecting eyes and prying ears. Technically, we should take this to one of our rooms, but we’re hungry and want to spread out.
The waitress quickly takes our food and drink orders, shutting the door behind her.
“Aside from this book shit, what’s up?” Harrison doesn’t waste any time cutting to the chase.
“Moreno came by earlier. He wants us back and is making a strong case. We have to ask ourselves where we want the band to go. Are we happy staying in Beaumont and doing a gig here or there? Or do we want stadiums and the shit we had before?”
Our waitress returns and makes quick work of leaving our drinks. I down mine before she has a chance to leave and set the empty back on her tray. “Another one, please,” I ask, receiving a nod.
Harrison leans back in his chair and plays with his glass. “The kids have lives in Beaumont.”
“I know.”
“But we have a place here.” He shrugs. “They like the beach house, but it’s not a place to raise a family of five.”
“I’d have to talk to the missus, but Little One is small enough that she won’t know the difference.”
“I don’t know if I could take the girls away from Mason.” Harrison drives it home with that statement. It’s been a month or so since I’ve visited his gravesite. Sometimes it’s too hard to go there, and then when I do end up going, Mr. Powell is there and I have to wait for him to leave. I always feel better after talking to Mason and wish I had reached out to him years ago.
Taking a deep breath, I lean forward and face my band mates. My best friends. My family. “I’m going to be honest and tell you I’m spilt. The musician in me wants this, maybe not with Moreno, but with another successful manager. Gary’s great, but he’s not cutting it. The other side of me knows Josie will not go for this and asking her will mean the end of us... and I refuse to go down that path. I left her once for music, I won’t do it again.”
I let the words sink in. I can see it on their faces; they know I’ll choose her over the band. Harrison and JD can decide to sign with Moreno or shop for someone new. I left her once for music. I won’t do it again.
I may have just sealed my fate as a musician. If that’s the case, so be it. I’ll teach music at the school and watch my kids play sports. Come to think of it, right now retirement has a nice ring to it.
“We are down two and Noah’s up to bat. We have ru
“How many outs?” He asks. I can hear a guitar in the background and I know he’s interrupting their rehearsal to be on the phone with me.
“One.” If Noah gets out, we have one more at bat to try and tie this game.
“What’s the count?”
“Two and two. Stupid calls,” I mutter because behind me is the home plate umpire’s wife and the last thing I want is for her to say something to her husband and him to find a way to hurt Noah’s game.
The pitch is delivered and I can tell Noah’s going to swing; it must look good to him. The loud clink from the bat co
“Run!” I stand and start screaming at the top of my lungs and because my son knows what he’s doing, he’s currently rounding second base while none of the outfielders have even picked up the ball. Nick is on third base wind milling his arm so Noah knows to continue. The other parents are standing, yelling for Noah to run faster. If he scores, we’re in the lead.
The ball is thrown toward home. Nick is yelling. Noah drops his leg and slides into home just as the ball lands in the catcher’s glove. I look at the umpire and wait for his call.
“Safe,” he yells as his arms go wide.
“What’s going…?”
“Oh god, baby, I’m sorry for yelling. Noah just hit a home-run. We’re up by one,” I’m so excited that I can barely keep still, even as I sit down my legs are shaking. I’m given a few pats on the back by other parents as well.
“Woohoo,” Liam yells and repeats what I just told him to the guys. “That’s my boy.”
The next batter strikes out, ending our i
“He’ll be fine. Nick knows what he’s doing. He wants Noah to close out the game.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Its just, you’re not here and I need something to squeeze.”
Liam laughs. “Thanks, Jojo. I’m glad you only need me next to you so you have something to dig your nails into.”
“Har har. Okay, batter up.”
Liam stops talking and knows I’ll give him Noah’s pitch count. It’s easier if he doesn’t ask me questions so I can focus and be nervous for our son who looks cool as a cucumber out on the mound. Our catcher, Junior Appleton, looks to Nick for the call and gives Noah the signal before setting up the location he wants the ball.
“Swing and miss.”
“Ball… shitty call.”
“Be nice, Josie.”
“I am,” I mumble into the phone. I can’t help it if the umpire is blind. “Hit, thrown out at first.”
“How does he look?”
“Perfect. God, Liam, he reminds me so much of you, just younger. He’s just standing there waiting for the next batter. Even Junior looks good. Pitch is on the way. Strike!”
“He’s got this.”
“Strike. I’m so nervous.”
“He’s doing fine, Josie. Where’s Aubrey, why aren’t you sitting with her?”
“Strike out. Um, I don’t know.”
“Katelyn?”
“She’s here, but refuses to sit with me right now.”
Liam laughs, but I don’t find it fu
“Two outs, Liam. He has one more and we’re on to districts.”
“I’ll be sure to be back for those games.”
“He’ll like that. I know he misses you.” Noah doesn’t say much about Liam being gone. It’s been a week and our lives have been pretty normal. I think it’s easier knowing Liam’s just a plane ride away, not that he can’t hop on a plane when he’s on tour but it’s different. If I call him now and ask him to come home, he will. He doesn’t have any scheduled obligations in LA right now.
“Ball.”
“Strike.”
“Foul ball.”
“One and two with two outs. I think I’m going to have a panic attack.”
“Don’t worry; Katelyn is on her way over.”
I look up and sure enough she and Peyton are walking toward me.
“I had Harrison text her, asking her to fill in for me.”
“You do love me,” I say as Katelyn and Peyton sit down. Katelyn wraps her arm in mine and gives me a side hug. I know why she doesn’t sit with me; I’m bat shit crazy and Nick often has to tell me to zip it. I can’t help it. That’s my boy out there.
“I love you more than words, Jojo.”
Before I can respond, I’m standing and screaming in his ear again. Everyone is rushing Noah on the mound with Junior being the first one there. The kids are jumping up and down, cheering loudly.