El & Em, page 5
Luke laughed. “I dunno, geography ain't my thing. If you say so.”
“Seems like we aren't going to make it back to Philly by June.”
“Don't know that was ever likely. I think the record company wants to keep us out as long as possible, now they've invested in all this.”
Emmett nodded soberly, and Luke knew he was thinking about his life back home.
“Listen, don't worry, we'll get you back to visit with your family soon. I think we have a break coming up after Jackson, you should be able to go home for a day or two.”
“That sounds good.”
“Hey, Mountain, something I been meaning to tell you.” Luke used the nickname when he was thinking about their onstage performances. “You don't need to worry about me when I'm out in the audience.”
It had taken Luke a while to bring this up because in truth he liked the way Emmett watched out for him – it made him feel safe and protected. But he didn't want to be shielded from his fans. His whole desire, his goal in life, was to build a kind of sacred bond between himself and his audience. That was why he put himself out there, night after night. And then, the incident with Art had shaken him, especially the parts he hadn't been aware of. Emmett's physical strength and power could be overwhelming. If some hapless fool provoked him into violence, that was one thing, but Luke didn't want to be responsible for it.
“I don't?” Emmett gave him a dubious, concerned look. “It seems like some of those people want to take you home with them.”
“I'm not saying I don't need to worry. I'm saying you don't. It's not your job.”
“Sure, maybe not, but I don't see anyone else looking out for you. Mark can't be out there in the crowd when he's managing the equipment backstage. And it's dangerous, man – you're going to break a leg on those cables or get hit by a beer bottle.”
“The venues are supposed to provide security.” Luke spoke more firmly. He’d steeled himself up for this conversation, and having his decision questioned rankled. “I was just workin' with Jerry on some revised contracts. From now on, if anyone gets hurt we get a bonus added to our fee.”
“More money isn't going to help when you're at the hospital in traction,” Emmett said sharply.
“Okay, it's not perfect, but I don't want you doing security, Em.” Luke tried not to let his voice rise. “You're not a bouncer or a stagehand. I want you up on the stage where you belong.”
“If you say so. So much for not being the boss, I guess.”
Luke was only too aware of his own hypocrisy. He couldn’t stop the sudden hot streak of misdirected anger that flooded him. “It's in your fucking contract! Trumpet, harp, backing vocals – that's your job.”
His frustration was instantly replaced with regret when he saw the flash of betrayal on Emmett's face. “I'm sorry,” Luke said, wincing. He took a breath, then reached for Emmett's heavy hand and held it in both of his own. “I didn't mean it like that. I just think you don't know how important you are to the band right now.”
Emmett didn't pull away but his face was closed off, and Luke had the sinking feeling of weeks of effort thrown away.
“I don't mean to tell you what to do. And I appreciate you lookin' out for me, I always have. But it's not fair to let you do two jobs – well, three actually, since we're all roadies as well.” Did that get him a hint of a smile? “The thing is, Em, you're not getting all that limelight on stage just because I'm a nice guy. I know what I got. Don't you see how the audience responds to you?”
Emmett turned his head slowly toward Luke, dark eyes narrowing in confusion behind his glasses. “What do you mean,” he said, a guarded statement more than a question.
“They can't take their eyes off you,” Luke said bluntly. “I see it all the time. They're following me until you start playing and then half the crowd is only focused on you.”
“Well, that's not my fault.” Emmett sounded a bit exasperated. “You're the one who told me...”
“I ain't complaining!” Luke almost laughed. “You can't help being the coolest guy in the room. You make the act more exciting; I got no problem with that. I'm just saying that's why you're here – you're a part of the show, not the support.”
Emmett didn't answer, his expression hard to read.
“I know what I got, man,” Luke repeated quietly. He was about to take his hand away when he felt it squeezed gently.
“So do I,” Emmett said.
Chapter 5
“How'd ya get all this then?” Luke rubbed Emmett's massive bicep playfully. “Was it college football?”
“Wrestling, actually. I mean I played some football, but I got to college on a wrestling scholarship.”
“You ever try to go pro?”
“Yeah, I tried, but I'm not that good.” Emmett shrugged. “It got me through school, and I went to a bunch of tournaments out of state so I got to travel and see things...”
“And you built this all up,” Luke said, gesturing appreciatively at him.
Emmett grinned. “I spent a lot of time in the gym.”
They spoke in low voices, trying not to disturb the shadowy stillness around them. Below them the bus wheels rumbled faintly, and outside nothing was visible in the darkness beside the highway.
“I guess your youth was a lot healthier 'n mine,” Luke drawled.
“You didn't play sports?”
“Not really. Just music.”
“When did you start playing guitar?”
“Guess I was about...thirteen. I was already writing songs by then, on the piano I mean. Then I figured if I wanted to be in a band I better learn guitar.”
“So when was your first band?”
“Oh, I was fifteen, it was with some neighbourhood kids. I was the baby, the others were all around eighteen or nineteen.”
“Was that with Eddie?”
“Naw, Eddie's my age, we met a little later, maybe the next year.”
“You went to school with him?”
“No.” Luke had settled into his usual spot, leaning against Emmett’s side, but he glanced up with a nostalgic smile. “He grew up in a different town, a few miles over from me. But he was in a band too, we kept seein' each other around in Philly when we were hangin' around the bars, trying to get in.”
“So you figured it was better to work together instead of competing.”
Luke laughed. “Not exactly. I mean, we were in a coupla bands together for a while. None of 'em worked out for long. Wish Eddie was with us now, he's way better than me on guitar and there's some stuff I can't do without him...But even so, this is the best band I ever had.”
“This is a great band, I love playing with y'all.” Emmett put his arm around Luke’s shoulder and gave a quick squeeze. “But you know, Luke, it's your songs that really make it.”
“Are you tryin' to suck up to me?”
“No, man.” Emmett smiled. “I love your songs, I have since the beginning. Not just the music but the stories you tell.”
“That's true, I like to tell stories.”
“Sometimes when I hear you sing, I feel like I missed the best party ever and you're telling me all about it.”
“The funny thing is...” Luke yawned and sank further back against Emmett. “I don't even really join in the parties when I'm there. I feel like I spend more time watching other people so I can write about it later.”
Emmett was quiet. “That's a bit sad.”
“But now...now I want my actual life to be the best party ever. I want people to look back years from now and wish they’d been here with me. And you. And all of us...” Luke's voice trailed away sleepily; he let his head fall back onto Emmett's chest and they both drifted off.
They had reached Kansas City, the western apex of their tour, and started on a meandering, generally southeasterly route back toward the east coast. As they headed further south, Emmett felt a vague sense of familiarity and foreboding. He hoped they wouldn't run into any trouble; somehow, he didn't think Jerry or Luke were prepared for it.
After a show in Memphis the band had its only three-day break, and Emmett took an overnight bus to Philadelphia to see Clarissa and the boys. It was a short, tense visit full of painful thoughts unspoken by him and Clarissa, and others bluntly spoken by his mother. He wished he could find some way to make them understand the sense of vitality and urgency he got from working with Luke, but he knew that was impossible. Watching Clarissa interact with the kids, he suspected she felt something similar about her life at home. Both boys had developed noticeably in his absence, Robbie's reading now much advanced, and Walt using new words and full sentences.
Just before leaving, Emmett told Clarissa that the tour was likely to be extended for another month or two, and she barely spoke after that. Then it was another thirteen-hour overnight bus ride back to Nashville.
“How's the family?” Luke asked him, when they met the next afternoon at the local diner.
“Everyone's good.”
Pete looked up from his plate. “Long way to go for such a short visit.”
“Worth it.” Emmett said shortly, and again felt the impossibility of explaining his feelings in words. “Luke, did you go back to see Wanda?”
Luke shook his head without further explanation. Emmett wondered if he'd been through enough tension-filled home visits in his young life to avoid them now.
After the break the band had shows lined up for several nights in Nashville and nearby, so Jerry had booked them into a motel just outside the city for almost a week. The rest of the guys had already settled in, and Emmett joined Gordon in their shared room on his return.
Jerry liked to travel at night because there was less traffic on the roads and less pressure to reach their destination by a specific time. Heading out of town immediately after each show helped the band members deal with the immediate post-show low, as most of them simply crashed on the bus, falling asleep quickly in their seats. Even Emmett felt the drop, and he knew Luke did too, as he rested against Emmett's shoulder and languidly rehashed the night's highlights with him. But leaving at night also meant less time to spend with locals. A few fans inevitably found their way backstage, and there were always invitations to parties, but with Jerry rounding everyone up to get on the road again as soon as the bus was loaded, most opportunities had to be missed.
Now, with the extended stay outside Nashville, the guys were excited about being able to socialize with people outside their own circle, party with the locals, and of course meet women. Emmett enjoyed spending more time backstage after the shows, talking with fans and folks in the local music scene, and he often continued the conversations at a nearby bar. But he always went home alone.
Arriving back at the motel, he'd check outside their room for the pair of shoes Gordon left against the wall as a signal that he had company. Emmett had introduced the system, remembering how one of his ‘boys’ in college had used a similar signal to ensure their privacy in his dorm room. Gordon, the youngest in the band, lived at home with his parents in Philadelphia and had spent most of his waking life studying music. He didn't have much experience with girls, and Emmett didn't begrudge him this opportunity to sow a few wild oats.
Seeing the shoes neatly set out beside their motel room door, Emmett walked over to a table and chairs near the parking lot. He was just as happy to be outside tonight, with at least a hint of breeze. It was almost the end of May by now, and temperatures had climbed as they moved further south. The small motel fans were no match for the accumulation of day-time heat that filled their rooms overnight. He hung his suit jacket over a chair back, pulled out a paperback novel from his backpack, and settled down to wait for the all-clear.
Footsteps crunched in the gravel of the motel parking lot. Emmett looked up to see Luke walking in from the road, where a car had just dropped him off.
“Hey Em,” Luke said, catching sight of him and changing direction.
“Hey El.”
Luke carried the fringed suede vest he'd worn onstage over his shoulder, wearing just a sleeveless shirt and jeans. By this time his long hair was gone, replaced with a jumble of brown curls that fell over his eyes periodically. “Whatcha doin' out here?”
Emmett gestured toward the shoes. “Gordie's got company.”
“Oh.” Luke paused and nodded at his own motel room. “Mark's still out, wanna use mine?”
“It's okay. Too hot to sleep anyway. I'd rather be out here.”
Luke hesitated briefly, then came over and pulled up a chair beside Emmett. “Yeah, you're right.”
“You have a good night?” Emmett didn't like to ask direct questions about what Luke did after shows; it seemed like prying.
“Some industry party; Jerry told me I had to go with him.”
“How was it?”
Luke shrugged. “They're all the same. Jerry and Mark are still there. I got bored.”
“I thought you liked parties,” Emmett said playfully.
“Real parties I like. Not this snoozefest with all the suits tryin' to show how hip they are.”
Emmett laughed. “How hip are they?”
Luke pressed his hands to his head, miming pain. “Worst thing I ever seen. If I knew you were free I'da made you come with me.”
“Yeah, sounds like I missed a swell time.”
“You'll see.” Luke gave Emmett's arm a friendly punch, then looked at him curiously. “So what do you do when you bring back company and Gordie's already got the room?”
“I don't. I'm a married man.”
“Oh, right.” Luke smiled, then shot him another glance. “How's that goin' anyway?”
“It's all right. How's it going with Wanda?” Emmett asked, pointedly changing the subject.
Luke chuckled and looked down as though slightly chastened. “Ain't easy though, is it?” he said quietly. “Your first time being away from each other?”
“Yeah. And...the boys, especially.”
“I bet. I wanna have kids some day but I'm sure glad I don't have 'em now. It's hard enough just with chicks. You know when you leave town one of you is likely gonna fuck it up. Or just stop waiting.” Luke broke off abruptly. “But I mean, that's just me.”
Emmett shrugged noncommittally. It had already started to occur to him that there might be something fundamentally incompatible between his old life and this one.
“Did you tell Clarissa the tour's bein' extended?”
“I said it might be...”
“It's for sure now. Jerry says we'll be home around the end of July.” They sat in silence for a moment, then Luke put a hand on Emmett's forearm. “I'm sorry, man.”
“Don't be sorry. It's great the tour's doing so well.”
“I'll try to get another break in when we're closer to home.”
“It's okay.”
In the distance, Emmett saw his motel room door open, and two figures stood pressed together in front of it for a moment, before a young woman’s shape detached from the tableau. As she headed across the parking lot to her car, Gord looked around for Emmett and gave him a wave.
Emmett returned the wave, then glanced back to Luke. “Looks like I'm allowed to go into that sauna now.”
“Maybe wait a bit.” Luke’s hand still rested on Emmett’s arm. “Hey, Em, you know, I didn’t want to say it, but...me and Wanda, we split up.”
“Oh – ” Emmett felt his eyes grow wider as he took in the news. “I’m sorry, man.”
“Naw, it’s okay. Even when I’m not touring, I never seem to make it past nine months with anyone.” Luke gave Emmett a sheepish, reassuring glance. “It’s just me, man. Not everyone breaks up on tour.”
Emmett wondered about that. “Well, I guess at least you’re...” he began awkwardly.
“Free? Yeah, don’t do me much good when Jerry’s riding us like a drill sergeant. Anyways, I really ain’t up for anything right now.” Luke seemed to hesitate. “Listen, I know Gord’s been getting a lot of action these days – and so’s Mark. If those two are gonna keep us out of our rooms at night, maybe they oughta share and...and you and me could bunk together.”
It went against Emmett’s nature to resist a friendly overture, but he’d learned over time that things were not always as they seemed. Luke was a hard one to figure out. Emmett studied his face for a long moment, trying to read the slight self-consciousness in it. He even considered accepting the proposal for a moment before concluding it was a bad idea, though he couldn’t say why. “Thanks, man. But it’s okay, Gordie’s no trouble.”
“Sure,” Luke said quickly.
“Uh...” Emmett moved his arm gently. “Guess I’ll go in then.”
They walked back toward their rooms together, and Luke reached up to give Emmett's arm a squeeze. “Hope I didn't bring you down.”
“No sweat, Luke. Good night.”
“Night, Em.”
They went into their separate rooms, Emmett absently reaching over to rub his arm where Luke had held it.
The next morning, as soon as he finished breakfast, Emmett called Clarissa from a payphone outside the motel office to tell her about the extension. Long distance calls were expensive so the conversation was mercifully short. Afterward he sat outside in the gathering Tennessee heat and wondered if he was doing the right thing. He knew that joining Luke's band and going on tour had in some way violated his unstated contract with Clarissa; their mutual commitment to a stable, respectable, middle-class life. But he was still providing for his family, and if he wasn't yet making more money from the band than he would have from his salary, he had more faith in Luke's future than he did in his social work job. Emmett knew in his bones that Luke would make it sooner or later; pretty white boys like Luke who also happened to be musical geniuses always did.
Of course the separation was difficult for his family, and might only get worse if the band got bigger. Years ago, when he had just finished college and couldn't find work right away, Emmett had considered joining the service. He and Clarissa had talked then about what it would mean for him to be away on tours of duty while she might be home alone raising children. Back then, she'd been supportive and willing to accept this as the price of a better future. But she didn't seem to see his current occupation in the same light. It's true that he had a lot more fun playing with Luke's band than he ever would have had in the army. Did that make it a worse choice? Were he and Clarissa just looking at the world differently now?
“Seems like we aren't going to make it back to Philly by June.”
“Don't know that was ever likely. I think the record company wants to keep us out as long as possible, now they've invested in all this.”
Emmett nodded soberly, and Luke knew he was thinking about his life back home.
“Listen, don't worry, we'll get you back to visit with your family soon. I think we have a break coming up after Jackson, you should be able to go home for a day or two.”
“That sounds good.”
“Hey, Mountain, something I been meaning to tell you.” Luke used the nickname when he was thinking about their onstage performances. “You don't need to worry about me when I'm out in the audience.”
It had taken Luke a while to bring this up because in truth he liked the way Emmett watched out for him – it made him feel safe and protected. But he didn't want to be shielded from his fans. His whole desire, his goal in life, was to build a kind of sacred bond between himself and his audience. That was why he put himself out there, night after night. And then, the incident with Art had shaken him, especially the parts he hadn't been aware of. Emmett's physical strength and power could be overwhelming. If some hapless fool provoked him into violence, that was one thing, but Luke didn't want to be responsible for it.
“I don't?” Emmett gave him a dubious, concerned look. “It seems like some of those people want to take you home with them.”
“I'm not saying I don't need to worry. I'm saying you don't. It's not your job.”
“Sure, maybe not, but I don't see anyone else looking out for you. Mark can't be out there in the crowd when he's managing the equipment backstage. And it's dangerous, man – you're going to break a leg on those cables or get hit by a beer bottle.”
“The venues are supposed to provide security.” Luke spoke more firmly. He’d steeled himself up for this conversation, and having his decision questioned rankled. “I was just workin' with Jerry on some revised contracts. From now on, if anyone gets hurt we get a bonus added to our fee.”
“More money isn't going to help when you're at the hospital in traction,” Emmett said sharply.
“Okay, it's not perfect, but I don't want you doing security, Em.” Luke tried not to let his voice rise. “You're not a bouncer or a stagehand. I want you up on the stage where you belong.”
“If you say so. So much for not being the boss, I guess.”
Luke was only too aware of his own hypocrisy. He couldn’t stop the sudden hot streak of misdirected anger that flooded him. “It's in your fucking contract! Trumpet, harp, backing vocals – that's your job.”
His frustration was instantly replaced with regret when he saw the flash of betrayal on Emmett's face. “I'm sorry,” Luke said, wincing. He took a breath, then reached for Emmett's heavy hand and held it in both of his own. “I didn't mean it like that. I just think you don't know how important you are to the band right now.”
Emmett didn't pull away but his face was closed off, and Luke had the sinking feeling of weeks of effort thrown away.
“I don't mean to tell you what to do. And I appreciate you lookin' out for me, I always have. But it's not fair to let you do two jobs – well, three actually, since we're all roadies as well.” Did that get him a hint of a smile? “The thing is, Em, you're not getting all that limelight on stage just because I'm a nice guy. I know what I got. Don't you see how the audience responds to you?”
Emmett turned his head slowly toward Luke, dark eyes narrowing in confusion behind his glasses. “What do you mean,” he said, a guarded statement more than a question.
“They can't take their eyes off you,” Luke said bluntly. “I see it all the time. They're following me until you start playing and then half the crowd is only focused on you.”
“Well, that's not my fault.” Emmett sounded a bit exasperated. “You're the one who told me...”
“I ain't complaining!” Luke almost laughed. “You can't help being the coolest guy in the room. You make the act more exciting; I got no problem with that. I'm just saying that's why you're here – you're a part of the show, not the support.”
Emmett didn't answer, his expression hard to read.
“I know what I got, man,” Luke repeated quietly. He was about to take his hand away when he felt it squeezed gently.
“So do I,” Emmett said.
Chapter 5
“How'd ya get all this then?” Luke rubbed Emmett's massive bicep playfully. “Was it college football?”
“Wrestling, actually. I mean I played some football, but I got to college on a wrestling scholarship.”
“You ever try to go pro?”
“Yeah, I tried, but I'm not that good.” Emmett shrugged. “It got me through school, and I went to a bunch of tournaments out of state so I got to travel and see things...”
“And you built this all up,” Luke said, gesturing appreciatively at him.
Emmett grinned. “I spent a lot of time in the gym.”
They spoke in low voices, trying not to disturb the shadowy stillness around them. Below them the bus wheels rumbled faintly, and outside nothing was visible in the darkness beside the highway.
“I guess your youth was a lot healthier 'n mine,” Luke drawled.
“You didn't play sports?”
“Not really. Just music.”
“When did you start playing guitar?”
“Guess I was about...thirteen. I was already writing songs by then, on the piano I mean. Then I figured if I wanted to be in a band I better learn guitar.”
“So when was your first band?”
“Oh, I was fifteen, it was with some neighbourhood kids. I was the baby, the others were all around eighteen or nineteen.”
“Was that with Eddie?”
“Naw, Eddie's my age, we met a little later, maybe the next year.”
“You went to school with him?”
“No.” Luke had settled into his usual spot, leaning against Emmett’s side, but he glanced up with a nostalgic smile. “He grew up in a different town, a few miles over from me. But he was in a band too, we kept seein' each other around in Philly when we were hangin' around the bars, trying to get in.”
“So you figured it was better to work together instead of competing.”
Luke laughed. “Not exactly. I mean, we were in a coupla bands together for a while. None of 'em worked out for long. Wish Eddie was with us now, he's way better than me on guitar and there's some stuff I can't do without him...But even so, this is the best band I ever had.”
“This is a great band, I love playing with y'all.” Emmett put his arm around Luke’s shoulder and gave a quick squeeze. “But you know, Luke, it's your songs that really make it.”
“Are you tryin' to suck up to me?”
“No, man.” Emmett smiled. “I love your songs, I have since the beginning. Not just the music but the stories you tell.”
“That's true, I like to tell stories.”
“Sometimes when I hear you sing, I feel like I missed the best party ever and you're telling me all about it.”
“The funny thing is...” Luke yawned and sank further back against Emmett. “I don't even really join in the parties when I'm there. I feel like I spend more time watching other people so I can write about it later.”
Emmett was quiet. “That's a bit sad.”
“But now...now I want my actual life to be the best party ever. I want people to look back years from now and wish they’d been here with me. And you. And all of us...” Luke's voice trailed away sleepily; he let his head fall back onto Emmett's chest and they both drifted off.
They had reached Kansas City, the western apex of their tour, and started on a meandering, generally southeasterly route back toward the east coast. As they headed further south, Emmett felt a vague sense of familiarity and foreboding. He hoped they wouldn't run into any trouble; somehow, he didn't think Jerry or Luke were prepared for it.
After a show in Memphis the band had its only three-day break, and Emmett took an overnight bus to Philadelphia to see Clarissa and the boys. It was a short, tense visit full of painful thoughts unspoken by him and Clarissa, and others bluntly spoken by his mother. He wished he could find some way to make them understand the sense of vitality and urgency he got from working with Luke, but he knew that was impossible. Watching Clarissa interact with the kids, he suspected she felt something similar about her life at home. Both boys had developed noticeably in his absence, Robbie's reading now much advanced, and Walt using new words and full sentences.
Just before leaving, Emmett told Clarissa that the tour was likely to be extended for another month or two, and she barely spoke after that. Then it was another thirteen-hour overnight bus ride back to Nashville.
“How's the family?” Luke asked him, when they met the next afternoon at the local diner.
“Everyone's good.”
Pete looked up from his plate. “Long way to go for such a short visit.”
“Worth it.” Emmett said shortly, and again felt the impossibility of explaining his feelings in words. “Luke, did you go back to see Wanda?”
Luke shook his head without further explanation. Emmett wondered if he'd been through enough tension-filled home visits in his young life to avoid them now.
After the break the band had shows lined up for several nights in Nashville and nearby, so Jerry had booked them into a motel just outside the city for almost a week. The rest of the guys had already settled in, and Emmett joined Gordon in their shared room on his return.
Jerry liked to travel at night because there was less traffic on the roads and less pressure to reach their destination by a specific time. Heading out of town immediately after each show helped the band members deal with the immediate post-show low, as most of them simply crashed on the bus, falling asleep quickly in their seats. Even Emmett felt the drop, and he knew Luke did too, as he rested against Emmett's shoulder and languidly rehashed the night's highlights with him. But leaving at night also meant less time to spend with locals. A few fans inevitably found their way backstage, and there were always invitations to parties, but with Jerry rounding everyone up to get on the road again as soon as the bus was loaded, most opportunities had to be missed.
Now, with the extended stay outside Nashville, the guys were excited about being able to socialize with people outside their own circle, party with the locals, and of course meet women. Emmett enjoyed spending more time backstage after the shows, talking with fans and folks in the local music scene, and he often continued the conversations at a nearby bar. But he always went home alone.
Arriving back at the motel, he'd check outside their room for the pair of shoes Gordon left against the wall as a signal that he had company. Emmett had introduced the system, remembering how one of his ‘boys’ in college had used a similar signal to ensure their privacy in his dorm room. Gordon, the youngest in the band, lived at home with his parents in Philadelphia and had spent most of his waking life studying music. He didn't have much experience with girls, and Emmett didn't begrudge him this opportunity to sow a few wild oats.
Seeing the shoes neatly set out beside their motel room door, Emmett walked over to a table and chairs near the parking lot. He was just as happy to be outside tonight, with at least a hint of breeze. It was almost the end of May by now, and temperatures had climbed as they moved further south. The small motel fans were no match for the accumulation of day-time heat that filled their rooms overnight. He hung his suit jacket over a chair back, pulled out a paperback novel from his backpack, and settled down to wait for the all-clear.
Footsteps crunched in the gravel of the motel parking lot. Emmett looked up to see Luke walking in from the road, where a car had just dropped him off.
“Hey Em,” Luke said, catching sight of him and changing direction.
“Hey El.”
Luke carried the fringed suede vest he'd worn onstage over his shoulder, wearing just a sleeveless shirt and jeans. By this time his long hair was gone, replaced with a jumble of brown curls that fell over his eyes periodically. “Whatcha doin' out here?”
Emmett gestured toward the shoes. “Gordie's got company.”
“Oh.” Luke paused and nodded at his own motel room. “Mark's still out, wanna use mine?”
“It's okay. Too hot to sleep anyway. I'd rather be out here.”
Luke hesitated briefly, then came over and pulled up a chair beside Emmett. “Yeah, you're right.”
“You have a good night?” Emmett didn't like to ask direct questions about what Luke did after shows; it seemed like prying.
“Some industry party; Jerry told me I had to go with him.”
“How was it?”
Luke shrugged. “They're all the same. Jerry and Mark are still there. I got bored.”
“I thought you liked parties,” Emmett said playfully.
“Real parties I like. Not this snoozefest with all the suits tryin' to show how hip they are.”
Emmett laughed. “How hip are they?”
Luke pressed his hands to his head, miming pain. “Worst thing I ever seen. If I knew you were free I'da made you come with me.”
“Yeah, sounds like I missed a swell time.”
“You'll see.” Luke gave Emmett's arm a friendly punch, then looked at him curiously. “So what do you do when you bring back company and Gordie's already got the room?”
“I don't. I'm a married man.”
“Oh, right.” Luke smiled, then shot him another glance. “How's that goin' anyway?”
“It's all right. How's it going with Wanda?” Emmett asked, pointedly changing the subject.
Luke chuckled and looked down as though slightly chastened. “Ain't easy though, is it?” he said quietly. “Your first time being away from each other?”
“Yeah. And...the boys, especially.”
“I bet. I wanna have kids some day but I'm sure glad I don't have 'em now. It's hard enough just with chicks. You know when you leave town one of you is likely gonna fuck it up. Or just stop waiting.” Luke broke off abruptly. “But I mean, that's just me.”
Emmett shrugged noncommittally. It had already started to occur to him that there might be something fundamentally incompatible between his old life and this one.
“Did you tell Clarissa the tour's bein' extended?”
“I said it might be...”
“It's for sure now. Jerry says we'll be home around the end of July.” They sat in silence for a moment, then Luke put a hand on Emmett's forearm. “I'm sorry, man.”
“Don't be sorry. It's great the tour's doing so well.”
“I'll try to get another break in when we're closer to home.”
“It's okay.”
In the distance, Emmett saw his motel room door open, and two figures stood pressed together in front of it for a moment, before a young woman’s shape detached from the tableau. As she headed across the parking lot to her car, Gord looked around for Emmett and gave him a wave.
Emmett returned the wave, then glanced back to Luke. “Looks like I'm allowed to go into that sauna now.”
“Maybe wait a bit.” Luke’s hand still rested on Emmett’s arm. “Hey, Em, you know, I didn’t want to say it, but...me and Wanda, we split up.”
“Oh – ” Emmett felt his eyes grow wider as he took in the news. “I’m sorry, man.”
“Naw, it’s okay. Even when I’m not touring, I never seem to make it past nine months with anyone.” Luke gave Emmett a sheepish, reassuring glance. “It’s just me, man. Not everyone breaks up on tour.”
Emmett wondered about that. “Well, I guess at least you’re...” he began awkwardly.
“Free? Yeah, don’t do me much good when Jerry’s riding us like a drill sergeant. Anyways, I really ain’t up for anything right now.” Luke seemed to hesitate. “Listen, I know Gord’s been getting a lot of action these days – and so’s Mark. If those two are gonna keep us out of our rooms at night, maybe they oughta share and...and you and me could bunk together.”
It went against Emmett’s nature to resist a friendly overture, but he’d learned over time that things were not always as they seemed. Luke was a hard one to figure out. Emmett studied his face for a long moment, trying to read the slight self-consciousness in it. He even considered accepting the proposal for a moment before concluding it was a bad idea, though he couldn’t say why. “Thanks, man. But it’s okay, Gordie’s no trouble.”
“Sure,” Luke said quickly.
“Uh...” Emmett moved his arm gently. “Guess I’ll go in then.”
They walked back toward their rooms together, and Luke reached up to give Emmett's arm a squeeze. “Hope I didn't bring you down.”
“No sweat, Luke. Good night.”
“Night, Em.”
They went into their separate rooms, Emmett absently reaching over to rub his arm where Luke had held it.
The next morning, as soon as he finished breakfast, Emmett called Clarissa from a payphone outside the motel office to tell her about the extension. Long distance calls were expensive so the conversation was mercifully short. Afterward he sat outside in the gathering Tennessee heat and wondered if he was doing the right thing. He knew that joining Luke's band and going on tour had in some way violated his unstated contract with Clarissa; their mutual commitment to a stable, respectable, middle-class life. But he was still providing for his family, and if he wasn't yet making more money from the band than he would have from his salary, he had more faith in Luke's future than he did in his social work job. Emmett knew in his bones that Luke would make it sooner or later; pretty white boys like Luke who also happened to be musical geniuses always did.
Of course the separation was difficult for his family, and might only get worse if the band got bigger. Years ago, when he had just finished college and couldn't find work right away, Emmett had considered joining the service. He and Clarissa had talked then about what it would mean for him to be away on tours of duty while she might be home alone raising children. Back then, she'd been supportive and willing to accept this as the price of a better future. But she didn't seem to see his current occupation in the same light. It's true that he had a lot more fun playing with Luke's band than he ever would have had in the army. Did that make it a worse choice? Were he and Clarissa just looking at the world differently now?
