Page 3 of Feuds and Interludes
I looked at my feet and back at her. “My Chucks? Of course, I’m wearing my Chucks. They’re custom-made. Most comfortable shoes I own.” I’d managed to get a sponsorship from Converse a few years back and they made some amazinginserts for people like me, who are on our feet a lot and need more support than your average skater or ball player. Now more than ever I had to take care of my feet, so I lived in these damned shoes. I’d chosen my gold sparkly ones tonight to match the tuxedo, so they really stood out.
She exhaled through her nose and raised an eyebrow at me.“You’re lucky you’re so handsome,” she said as she fastened her dangly diamond earrings. “You get away with a lot more that way.”
“And you wouldn’t let just anyone escort you tonight. Right. You said that already.” She could tease me all she wanted. I knew how much she loved me.
“Are you almost ready? Or do you have more metal to put in your head?”
She smiled sweetly at me and I rolled my eyes. I adjusted my septum piercing and ran my fingers over the thick silver rings in both ears. I had a stud through my tongue as well.
“I think I’m good.” I crossed my eyes at her and she wrinkled her nose. Then her smile morphed into that grandmotherly look of concern she’d had frequently as of late.
“How aboutyou? How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay. All good.”
A trip to the doctor when I returned home after our tour landed me a brand-spankin’-new Type 2 diabetes diagnosis and a whole host of pamphlets, apps on my phone, and gadgets. I was young for an illness like this, but thanks to years of regular drinking and smoking, very little sleep, and a pervasive family history that I knew nothing about—thanks to my bio dad—it was time I started making some changes, and Grandma was all too ready to see me change.
I’m not changing the shoes, though.I mentally stuck my tongue out at her.
“You had enough to eat today?”
“Yes, Gran, I’m fine. I’ll be all right.”I hope.
“Good. Because we can’t both be falling apart tonight.” She winked at me.
“Right. Like you’d ever fall apart in public.” Oh, sure, she was prone to the occasional dramatic histrionics at home from time to time. But never in the public eye.
“There’s a first time for everything, my darling.”
She threw a lipstick and some breath mints in her tiny purse, showed me that she had my inhaler and a package of crackers in there in case I needed them.
“Thank you,” I said, feeling six years old again, which was when I came to live with her and Papa.
My phone buzzed, letting me know our car had arrived. I helped her into her coat and we made our way downstairs and to the lobby of the hotel, where a dude in the black suit was waiting to whisk us away to the ceremony. Gran slipped her hand through my offered arm and I leaned over to kiss her on the cheek.
“Chin up, tits out,” she muttered.
“I’ll try to remember that.”
She subtly hip-bumped me and put on her most dazzling smile, no doubt practicing for the evening ahead.
I loved this woman, owed her my life, and I would stand by her side no matter what. I wanted her to be happy. She deserved happy.
As for me? I just needed to survive without making a fool of myself. I knew I was good enough to keep up with the likes of Bruce Duncan, but he’d rattled me more than I let on at that rehearsal. The idea that I wouldn’t do my grandfather’s music justice terrified me.
My career may not have happened if it weren’t for my connection to one of rock’s greatest artists of all time, despite the fact that I was talented enough in my own right. I’d neverintentionally ridden his coattails, but I never turned down a connection or networking opportunity, either. My family got me in the door, my playing and singing got me and my band a record deal, and our collective hard work won us two Grammys, sold-out shows around the world, and a platinum-selling album.
Papa taught me everything I needed to know to launch my career. I would do him proud tonight.
And if that meant dealing with the likes of Bruce Duncan or his aggravating grandson, Shane Butler, so be it.
Three
Shane
Teeth-chattering is not very metal.
I pulled my suit coat a little tighter and tried not to shiver.
