Page 17 of Feuds and Interludes
I cursed under my breath. “My concern, Boone, is that nothing good can come of this. They may have been friends once, but they run in different circles now, and her circle wouldn’t include someone like him. You know, Pops is a good man, and?—”
“Whoa,” he said, holding out his hands. “I know he is. And what do you mean by ‘her circle’? Her circle is me, her staff from the foundation, and a few close friends. She keeps to herself mostly.”
“Yeah, and nowhere in there is an old man still playing in a rock band.” I crossed my arms on the steering wheel, unable tokeep gazing into his bottomless blue eyes. They were so deep, so perfect, I could so easily get lost in them. So maybe my next words were more about me than Pops. “I don’t want to see him upset.”
“And you think Gran will upset him? She is the most caring and generous person I know, Shane.”
“I know she is,” I said, holding up a hand. “I’ve got nothing against your grandmother.”
We were quiet for several long moments. I watched cars pull in, take the valet parking option, and nicely dressed couples went in and came out the back doors. A couple of teenage-looking tourists snapped pics of each other outside the old-fashioned restaurant. It wasn’t really a young-person kind of place. It was a classy, old-school restaurant that was probably a little old for Vera Jean and Bruce back in the day. Pops and John had spent a lot of time at It’s Boss and the Whisky on the Strip, along with other rockers from the late ’60s, early ’70s.
“You ever think about what it would have been like here back then?” I mused out loud.
“All the time. Can you imagine seeing all those bands?”
I didn’t answer right away. I’d often wished I could have experienced first-hand that wild time.
“Who were some of your favorites?” he asked.
Could we actually be doing this? Having a civil conversation? This was the most I’d ever spoken to him. It was surprisingly kind of nice.
I blew out a breath and started drumming my thumbs on the steering wheel. “Man. I would have loved to see Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young. To hear those harmonies in person?”
“Really? That seems…tame for you.”
I shrugged and frowned when he started smiling at me. God, it was that big smile that always lit up a room, that graced the covers of magazines. So beautiful. “Just because I play loudmusic doesn’t mean that’s all I like.” I kicked up my chin. “How ’bout you?”
“The Doors…ohman. To see Jim Morrison, just once?” His eyes rolled back and he let his head fall against the seat with a sigh. God, his sex appeal was too much this close. I wondered if he knew the affect he had on people.
“I can see that,” I said, my voice cracking. “You definitely channel that energy onstage.”
He whipped his head around and stared at me wide-eyed. “That’s a huge compliment.”
I looked back out the windshield, afraid I’d give away just how much he affected me if we kept this up. “You don’t need me to tell you you’re good, Collins. You hear it enough, I’m sure.”
“Yeah, but not from you. So thank you.”
I chanced a look at Boone and, dammit, I could barely focus on the topic at hand. I wished things were different, that we didn’t have this weirdness between us, because right then, just the two of us, he seemed like someone who could be that something I didn’t have.
A friend. A real companion.
“So what are we going to do about those two?” he asked, and I realized I’d been staring at him. He laughed. “I feel like I skipped raising a toddler and went straight to parenting a teenager.”
“It’s not up to us,” I said, sounding like the responsible one, a role I was used to. I often had to be the adult when Pops was in a mood. “I don’t like it though. I’ll be the one picking up the pieces if it goes south.”
“What do you mean?”
I frowned at him. How could he not know? “Look, Vera Jean is a grand dame, a lady. She’s got her life together. Pops has had…a different life. I don’t know how well he’ll take rejection at his age. He’s had a lot of loss in his life.”
“She has her moments. She’s impenetrable in public, but at home? Let’s just say…your grandfather isn’t the only one who could be hurt by this.”
We gazed at each other for a long time, the weight of our situation descending upon us like the curtain dropping on stage.Showtime. Whatever moment we were having was gone.
Our phones buzzed at the same time.
“Guess they’re done,” Boone said. “Thanks for letting me enjoy the van life for a bit.” His smile fell. It seemed as though he wanted to say something else. He turned to get out, and when he shut the door, he leaned back in the window.
“It was nice talking to you. I’m not sure why we can’t be civil like this all the time.”
