Page 2 of Feuds and Interludes
Boone
“Boone, honey, will you zip me up?”
Vera Jean Collins possessed the kind of beauty that turned heads, the grace of a royal, and the unshakeable poise to shrug off even the most rabid paparazzi. And tonight, all those characteristics would be put to the test.
“Gladly. How are you feeling?”
She turned with a huff. “Is it over yet?”
I chuckled. I’d never get over how stunning my grandmother was. The only constant in my life, she was my home, my role model, and my best friend. Wearing a form-fitting, sleevelessblack dress adorned with iridescent rainbow sparkles, she had a youthful glow about her at nearly seventy years old and still commanded attention. A statuesque former actress, beleaguered rockstar wife, and now passionate philanthropist, Vera Jean Collins carried herself with an elegance that belied her years spent married to my lovable scoundrel of a grandfather.
“That tuxedo is very flattering,” she said as I stepped behind her and carefully zipped her dress to the nape of her neck. She’d pulled her long silver hair into a twist that looked professionallydone, and with her heels on, she stood nearly eye-to-eye with my five-eleven frame. “I love the vest, too.”
I looked down at the navy velvet suit and gold brocade vest and smiled. “The tailor did a nice job taking it in. I think Papa would get a kick out of me wearing this. He loved this one.”
I held up the matching bow tie and she took it from me, gesturing for me to let her tie it. She looped it over my head and went to work, a wistful smile on her face.
“He certainly did. He bought it to irritate me, and then was frustrated when I told him that I loved how it brought out the blue in his eyes. He was always trying to pull a fast one on me.”
“And you’d always call his bluff.”
She handed me her diamond choker to fasten, and I winced when I noticed her hands were shaking. She was so brave, no matter the challenge before her, but I’d learned to notice the subtle traces of her struggles. Tonight her task would be smiling and waving at her deceased husband’s adoring fans and colleagues as he was posthumously inducted into the Rock Hall.I knew she missed him terribly. We both did.
“Kept things fun,” she said with a little shrug. She ran her fingers over her choker and relaxed her shoulders. “Always kept him guessing.”
I had my own reason for being nervous. My band, Stellar, was chosen to lead the tribute performance. In a few hours, I would be performing for an arena full of my musical heroes. With Bruce Duncan. I usually did my best when under pressure, but this was ridiculous.
“It was weird seeing Bruce at rehearsal.”
I’d grown up hearing the stories of when he and my grandfather ruled the world, but I had no idea what to make of him as a person.
“Oh? How so?”
Gran stopped what she was doing and turned to face me.
“He talked to everyone else in the room but me. Well, he scolded me about the timing on one of the songs.”
“Relax, darling,” she said as she fastened her bracelet. “He’s probably just as nervous as you.”
“I’m not nervous. I know these songs like the back of my hand.”
“Right,” she said as she looked me up and down. “And that’s why your shirt is misbuttoned.”
I ran my hand down my shirt, and sure enough, I’d missed a button and the thing had a big bump in the middle sticking out from my vest. I went about undoing and redoing my shirt and vest. You’d think by the age of thirty, I’d be able to dress myself. You’d be wrong, apparently.
“Yeah, well, his infuriating grandson has probably told him terrible things about me.”
“Oh, nonsense. Shane is a good boy.”
“Boy? He’s two years older than me.”
“You two have more in common than you’d think.”
“He’s determined to be rude to me, so I guess I’ll never know.”
She was right in the sense that we came from similar backgrounds, but that’s where the similarities ended. I put together a band of unique artists interested in playing smart rock music with a point and a backbone. Shane was a hotheaded, brilliant musician who, instead of following in his grandfather’s footsteps, had chosen to while away his time in a mediocre albeit popular metal band. He could do so much better.
“Maybe if you two walked a mile in each other’s shoes, you’d get along. Speaking of which, do youhaveto wear those shoes?”
