When the show ended, Philip exited the stage and handed his bass to his tech. His father waited for him in the wings. Somewhere along the line tonight, Dad had picked up a necklace of working Christmas lights, which caused a laugh to bubble up from Philip’s chest. “Where are the kids?”
Belatedly, his father dipped his head closer to hear over the racket of the crowd. When Philip was about to repeat himself, Dad replied. “Sleeping. It’s pretty late for them.” Dad clapped him on the shoulder. “Great show. The pyrotechnics were out of this world.”
“You should see the guy who makes them happen.” Rumor had it that Sparky—whose arguments he should be called Fireball fell on deaf ears—kept his head shaved because he’d singed his hair too many times. “I’d introduce you, but he’s probably rushing to get to Christmas with his family.”
“Tim says no one’s taking off from Chicago.”
Philip cringed. “Did he come up with a different plan to head north?”
“Like what?”
Philip shrugged. Gannon didn’t accept no as an answer easily. If there was a way to get to the cabin as planned, he’d find it. “I’ll clean up, and we’ll see what’s going on.”
He pushed into the dressing room. As his eyes landed on the trio on the couch, he stopped. Joan sat in the middle, wearing a necklace that matched Dad’s. The lights blinked away as she snored, head tilted back, as asleep as the kids on either side of her. Nason and Nila each lay with one of Philip’s jackets covering their small frames. Philip had thought Nason outgrew sucking his thumb, but apparently not. The fan of Nila’s eyelashes on her cheeks reminded him of Clare.
How much would she resemble her mother when she got older? And how would Philip cope with that?
“They lasted about halfway through the show,” Dad whispered.
Philip had wanted to share what he did with the kids, but so much for his hopes that they’d enjoy the experience. He checked his watch. Closing in on eleven.
He’d grab that shower and see if Tim booked them rooms locally or found a way to the cabin as planned.
“She hasn’t been sleeping well.”
He followed his dad’s line of sight to Nila.
His princess. The strongest reminder of Clare he had.
“Why?”
“Upset about moving. She’s been having nightmares about being all alone.”
“I’ll be there.” But even he understood that would be little comfort in the face of leaving the security of Joan and Dad’s house.
“The change is hard. She’s been at that school for a year, has friends, and knows what to expect.” Dad’s tone held no judgment.
That didn’t stop the information from cutting deep. “And Nason?”
“Kindergarten is new to him, and he hasn’t caught on that moving in the middle of a year isn’t normal.”
Philip had moved his kids around a lot. Until Clare’s death four years ago, they’d lived in LA. After, nothing clicked.
He and the kids moved to Iowa to be close to his parents in the hope that Dad and Joan would act as training wheels, so one day, Philip could parent alone. But Iowa meant few career opportunities. Nothing helpful or healthy stepped forward to fill the yawning emptiness.
He needed to work, and not solely for the money.
After a year, he moved the children back to LA, still little better at relating to them. Working again felt good and necessary, and he’d managed to limit his travel, rarely leaving for more than one week out of each month. Even then, their beloved nanny cared for them while he traveled.
Then came Awestruck.
As he’d seen yet again tonight, being on tour wasn’t the best place for a kid. So, he’d sent them to live with their grandparents.
No nanny. No tutor. Just regular school and Dad and Joan.
Naturally, Nila preferred to stay in that situation, but he missed her and Nason. Especially on seeing them like this, his body ached for the trusting, comforting weight of their sleeping forms snuggled to his chest, heads leaned on his shoulders. And when they were awake, wrestling matches with Nason and Nila’s sweet kisses on his cheeks served as the antidote to too many lonely nights in generic hotel rooms.
The kids gave him company, comfort, purpose.
But what did he give them?
Nightmares?
He loved them. He’d do anything for them.
Even …
His heartbeat seemed to stop, his lungs froze as a new idea dropped into place.
Even ask Dad and Joan to take them, not for a year, but permanently?
The idea reeked of loneliness, shame, and failure.
But he wasn’t a good father. What if the most loving, selfless act he could do as a father was to let someone else raise them?
You don’t have to decide right now.
The words came to him in Clare’s voice, an echo of what she’d said while they were dating, when she’d revealed her desire to have kids someday. He’d hoped to marry her, but kids?
The idea grew on him. He’d wanted Clare to have everything she dreamed of.
His kids deserved the same, whatever the cost to him.
He drew a measured breath and ran his hand through his freshly cut hair. Even he could smell that he needed the shower. “Give me ten minutes.”
Gannon wanted to deliver the gift he’d found, and more importantly, he’d made a promise to Adeline. He wouldn’t fail to spend Christmas together over a grounded airplane. “The sooner we get on the road, the better.”
Tim stayed anchored against the wall, arms crossed. “They’re supposed to get eighteen inches of snow.” Probably more snow than Tim, a Californian who preferred beaches, had seen in his life.
“If you think something this tall”—Gannon held his hands apart, estimating a foot and a half—“is going to stop me, you’ve never met me.”
“You won’t get tour buses through it.”
“The counties up north have all the equipment they need to clear the roads. This isn’t their first winter.”
“Even interstates get messy in the middle of a snowstorm.” This quiet warning rose from Steve, their tour manager, who sat on a couch in Gannon’s dressing room. No stranger to finding ways to transport the band, often at odd hours and under a time crunch, if anyone understood the obstacle and how to overcome it, Steve did. “The country roads you’ll need to take toward the end of the route might be buried pretty deep.”
“What do you suggest? Flying’s not an option.” Gannon refocused on Tim. “Unless you want to rent snowmobiles or dog sleds, driving seems like the best option.”
“Just not the buses.” Steve rose from the couch, phone already in hand. “I’ll make some calls. Find you guys SUVs with snow tires. Less unruly than a bus would be, and safer. Seatbelts and all.”
Without waiting for responses, Steve ambled from the room.
At least someone was on board. Gannon turned back to Tim, triumphant.
“Getting there will be a huge hassle, and all for one or two days. After how badly Thanksgiving went, I’m not sure why you’re all desperate for a repeat.”
Because no one wanted a repeat. Every member of the band wanted to salvage relationships from the hits they’d taken in November. Philip and John didn’t have to travel up north to do so, but Philip did want to show the kids the new house, and Nicole and John might benefit from a shared adventure. “You’ve got something better to do?”
“Nope.” Tim pushed away from the wall. His ex was spending Christmas with her parents, Tim’s daughter in tow, as she’d done for Thanksgiving. Probably why the guy wore all black like Halloween was two days away and not Christmas. “I just hate to see you go to all this trouble for what could be a disappointment.”
“Your concern is …”
“Unwelcome. I know.”
No. The concern was sad because it stemmed from Tim’s disappointments, but he wouldn’t want the pity. As the manager showed himself out, Gannon snatched his phone.
In a second, Adeline’s face smiled up at him. He’d taken this picture of her back in April, when they’d finally made their relationship official. He still couldn’t see that just-been-kissed smile often enough.
Beneath the image, his phone offered the options to text or call.
He hesitated.
He could break the news of the delay in a text.
The original plan had been to arrive in the middle of the night. Not showing up until morning wouldn’t impact that much. But, this was one more bead in a long strand of times when he couldn’t do what he’d promised on time.
He’d better call.
He dropped onto the couch and counted off three rings.
“Hi.” She already sounded wary, as expectant of disappointment as Tim.
“How’s the weather up there?”
A sigh. “Snowing pretty good. By you?”
“Same. Planes aren’t taking off, and with how long this blizzard is supposed to last, they won’t guarantee we can fly tomorrow either.”
She didn’t reply, and he imagined her biting her lips. If only she had enough faith in him to ask if he could find a way. Her silence suggested she expected the worst.
“We’re going to drive.”
“That would take seven hours in good weather.”
“I’m guessing at least ten in this, which will put us there late morning. So don’t wait up, but we’re still coming.”
“I’m not sure that’s such a great idea.”
She didn’t want to see him?
John let himself in and plunked down on the other end of the couch.
Gannon focused on his call. On Adeline and not doing more damage. “I’ve been looking forward to seeing you. This is important.”
“It’s also dangerous.” Concern warmed her tone. “The roads are awful.”
Oh. So she wasn’t ready to give up on the visit, on him. Relief buoyed him. “We’ll be careful. They’re renting SUVs that can handle the snow.”
John angled toward him, interest lifting some of the fatigue from his features.
“You’re sure you want to go to all this trouble?” Her voice conveyed hope.
Hope. There was hope for them, for this reunion.
“I’m sure I want to see you.”
“Just make sure you get to. That there’s no accident or anything.”
“Will do.” He pictured the cabin, all the empty rooms he’d scrolled through in the listing when he’d chosen the rental. The place better live up to the promises so Adeline would want for nothing while she waited. “You’re okay for the night? Tegan’s with you?”
“We’re fine.” For once, the often-dismissive phrase sounded sincere.
“Okay. See you tomorrow. Love you.”
“I love you too.” Was that a note of sadness in her voice?
He should’ve put his feelings for her into a full sentence, but she’d already disconnected.
He typed a message. I love you. I will be there.
The typed words appeared small and insignificant, but the four hundred miles between them narrowed his options. He sent the message and hoped she liked the gifts. One of the basses, at least, and the last present he’d picked up.
John sat forward. “Where are they getting SUVs?”
“I don’t know. Steve’s working on it.” He studied his friend. “You and Nicole are doing okay?”
John shrugged. “She’s meeting with someone from her agency.”
“Here? Now?”
“I guess.”
A knock interrupted before Gannon asked about the scene at the jewelry store. The dressing room door opened, Gannon’s guitar tech stepped in, and John silently escaped.
John sat at the table in the tour bus with an arm around Nicole’s shoulders as he observed Steve. Their tour manager’s fidgeting grin suggested he was proud of whatever travel arrangements he’d made. Proud enough to accompany them to pick up the vehicles, though he wasn’t coming to the cabin.
Nic peered toward the windows, but the blinds were drawn against the snowy night. “The roads don’t seem that bad.”
On the surface, neither did his relationship with Nicole. But she hadn’t said a word about her discussion with the woman from her agency. Then again, they’d been around others almost constantly since her meeting with Renee. When could she have shared the details?
John focused on the more immediate problem: the roads. “They’ll be worse up north.”
The miniature ornaments on the small tree he and Philip had duct taped to the table last week, the bus’s only Christmas cheer, rocked as the wheels hit rough roads. Jimmy V had been driving this bus for years, but even his skill wouldn’t get a bus through eighteen inches of snow. So what had Steve lined up that would?
The man watched his phone, then popped onto his feet. The bus shifted, taking another turn. Instead of accelerating afterward, the vehicle parked. Steve led the way out, Gannon and Tim right behind him. Nicole and John fell into the middle of the lineup. Philip and his family brought up the rear.
They stepped onto the slushy pavement of a well-lit lot. Streetlights illuminated an industrial building with five garage doors, each painted with a familiar logo.
“Jacked and Twisted.” Gannon clapped a hand on Steve’s shoulder, his voice full of wonder and laughter, like a kid who’d opened his favorite gaming system on Christmas morning.
Three men exited the building with a small camera crew trailing.
Nicole leaned against John’s arm, holding her thin trench coat shut against the cold. “What is this place?”
John slid his arm around her to help her stay warm. He could give her the gift he’d gotten her early, before Christmas with his family, but she wouldn’t have much to open as the rest of them tore into their gifts. He’d wait, trying to keep her from being too uncomfortable in the meantime. “They’re a custom shop with a reality show.”
“I take it you’re fans.”
John grinned as he led her forward to join the introductions and get that much closer to seeing what a place like this, known for their extreme trucks, would send them off in.
The shop’s owner launched into a speech that seemed as much for their benefit as for the benefit of the cameras. “You guys lucked out. We’re here wrapping up a job tonight. Christmas present for Granite Thompson from his wife.”
John caught Nicole’s questioning look. She wasn’t into sports any more than she appreciated car shows. “Pro wrestler.”
The owner motioned for the band to follow him.
The interior of the shop was as big and clean as it appeared on TV. The owner cut across the space toward a trio of trucks, parked at angles for effect.
“We’re big Awestruck fans around here,” the man continued, “so when we heard you were in a lurch, we had to help. Christmas with the people important to us, that’s huge.” Despite sounding scripted, he looked sincere enough as he gave Philip, who carried his sleeping son, a nod. “We have two project vehicles that are far enough along to loan out. As you can see, they won’t have clearance problems unless you find snow deeper than twelve inches.”
“And if we do?” John hated to push back, but the forecast called for more accumulation than that.
“They’ll be fine, right?”
John understood the assurance in Gannon’s voice. The SUVs appeared capable of besting anything nature threw at them. They’d been outfitted with aggressive tires. Embodying the shop’s name, they’d also been jacked up, so the bumpers were waist-height.
The head mechanic bent and pointed to the chassis of the closest truck. “If the snow’s deeper than a foot, you’ll drag. For a short burst, that’s fine, but over time, it’ll get bogged down.”
Gannon tipped his head, eyes focused under the truck. Finally, he shrugged. “Forecasts are wrong all the time. Besides, I’m sure they don’t let roads get that buried.”
Tim narrowed his eyes. “Maybe just for fun you should tell us what to do in worst-case scenarios.”
Steve stepped into the circle. “Including how to pull someone out of a ditch. Just in case.”
After the mechanic walked them through the instructions, the owner talked up the first vehicle to Philip and his family. The TVs built into the back of the headrests would entertain the kids when they woke.
All the while, Gannon didn’t move far from the bumper of the second SUV, claiming the heavily modified black luxury vehicle, though probably unaware he was doing so.
John’s interest wandered to the third option. Though an older model and rusty around the edges, this one had been lifted and paired with a set of wheels like the others.
The owner appeared at his side. “With nine of you going on this trip, technically, you’d only need the two. But we weren’t sure how light you were traveling or if you might need a third so … This one’s my son’s. Not the prettiest puppy in the window, but she runs great. I trust her with my kid, after all. So, it’s up to you guys.”
This one looked like the most fun to John. A little more rough-and-tumble, a little less risk of scratching up a pricy paint job. He’d seen the episode where the crew found and fixed it up. They’d spared costs on the appearance because of the young driver, but the parts under the rusty exterior were solid.
“Are you sure he wants to part with it?” Gannon asked.
“For you guys, for a couple of days? Absolutely.”
The weight of attention settled on John. This was his decision, because Gannon and Philip had their rides already.
If he took it, he’d spend all night and half of tomorrow alone in a vehicle with Nicole, nothing to do but talk. To fill that much time, surely Nicole would tell him about her cards and her agency. They’d clear the air in plenty of time to enjoy Christmas.
“Let’s do this.”