Page 29 of To Bring You Back
“You can’t always help what the people around you do.” He hit the warning home with a serious glance before his countenance brightened again. “But how about it? Extra shifts?”
Gannon stepped onto the patio,sat next to the chaise where Matt lounged, and kicked the sole of his bassist’s shoe. Matt lifted the arm he’d draped over his eyes and took a drag off the cigarette he held in his other hand. He tapped it, and the ashes piled on the metal edge of the chair.
Respect for property. Yet another topic they’d have to discuss today. “I want to talk to you about why we’re here.”
“You’ve got writer’s block.” Matt’s Adam’s apple moved under his scruffy skin. He needed a shave and a shower. And fresh clothes. “You think sequestering us is going to solve something.”
Gannon struggled to remind himself of who Matt used to be. A daredevil, intense about everything except maybe school, he’d moved with Awestruck to California on only two weeks’ notice. In the months that followed, Matt had gone from mediocre to playing bass almost as well as Gannon played guitar. Even his drift from faith had been fast and furious. One week on tour, he was challenging them all during Bible study. The next, he skipped. When Gannon checked on him, he found the bassist doing lines of cocaine with fans.
“We’re here to get back to our roots. Remember what’s important.”
“And what’s that?”
“God and the music.”
Matt scoffed. “God doesn’t write the hits or put in the practice time.”
“And that’s why you figure your lifestyle doesn’t matter?”
Matt propped himself up on his elbow. “You brought me here for an intervention?”
“Have you seen yourself lately?”
“Yup, and you know what I see?” He let the cigarette tip into the cushion of his chair. “Someone who’s living his life. Time’s short, and nothing’s guaranteed. You live by your code, I’ll live by mine. None of us knows how long this is going to last, so I’m enjoying the ride.”
Gannon took the cigarette before it burned the fabric. “That’s a collection of bumper stickers, not a code to live by.” He tossed the butt into the firepit. “What are you into?”
Matt flopped his arm back over his bloodshot eyes. “Don’t you have enough to worry about?”
“You’re toward the top of the list. The women, the drugs, the alcohol. That’s a lot that can fly sideways.”
“You do you, man.”
“Fine.” Gannon stood, letting his shadow fall over Matt. “I can’t control what you do other places, but nothing illegal and no women here. If you’re going to smoke, do it outside and be careful. You’re paying for any property damage.”
“Anything else, boss?” Matt dug his cigarettes and lighter from his pocket.
“Be ready to rehearse tomorrow.” They could go over their sets for the upcoming shows, or, maybe by then, Gannon could make enough progress on the lighthouse or the addiction song to present something new.
9
The painter must’ve mailed a written estimate on Saturday, right after meeting Adeline, since a thick envelope arrived from him on Monday. Adeline took the mail into the house and greeted Bruce. Once she’d let him into the backyard, she braced herself and tore open the flap.
Her eyes stopped on the number at the bottom of the page.
That couldn’t be right.
The itemized portion of the quote included removing loose paint, filling cracks, sanding, priming, and painting. Selling the bass at a slightly higher price than the local shop had mentioned might cover the first of those, but not the rest.
How could new paint cost so much?
Bruce barked at something, and Adeline called him back in.
In the momentary break from the estimate, she assured herself she’d misread a decimal point. Instead of thousands, the amount must only be hundreds. Surely.
As they returned to the kitchen, Tegan came downstairs. “The carpenter came by this afternoon.”
She resisted rechecking the painter’s quote, because if it really said what she’d thought … Well, she’d cope with that in a minute. She doled out a scoop of food to Bruce. “And?”
