Page 76 of Cabin Fever Baby
That was an understatement.
I drained my bottle and set it in the case with the other empties. I paused at the doorway and looked back. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Anytime. Oh, and Hudson?”
“What?”
“We sure wouldn’t mind you being back in the area.”
I tapped the door frame and gave him a half smile before I went back upstairs to the chaos of my family.
TWENTY
2 Days til Christmas
“Why do you have a mom car?”
“Because there’s snow.” I glanced at Q, who was slouching in his seat.
“Why does it smell like a pine tree?”
“Catch those little trees in your room?”
“Oh, right. They’re cool.” He glanced out the window, his tone pensive and distant.
“Are you getting to work with Rory right away?”
“Hmm?” He glanced back at me. “Oh, I don’t know. He’s pretty busy. I might talk to him about getting on his schedule.”
“You know, you can take some time to yourself.”
“Bethany thinks I can get another tour set up in nine months. She wants to book dates before the venues fill up.”
Bethany, Q’s manager, was pushy. It was her job to get him seen in any capacity, but sometimes, she forgot he needed time to recharge. He wasn’t a damn machine.
I was exhausted just thinking about it. Was nine months even enough time to put an album together? There were farmore things going on in the background, especially since making actual physical records and specialized merch was the norm.
“If anyone can help you put together another album, it’s Rory.”
“He’s busy with Ian Kagan’s new album right now, but I really just want to talk to him. Feels like forever since we’ve talked.”
“Definitely.” I reached over and touched my brother’s arm. “It’s okay to be tired.”
He squeezed my fingers for a moment before letting go. “I am tired. Unbelievably. I think you’re right about taking off and traveling. I’ve been to every state and haven’t seen a damn thing. Even when we spent seven weeks in Canada, I couldn’t tell you what cities we were in after I read them off the setlist.”
“I know.”
“I’m dry, O. Like wrung out dry. No spark.”
I frowned as we drove farther away from the lake and into the small town of Crescent Cove. “You never showed it on stage.”
“Of course not. People paid to see me. And I loved singing for them, but I haven’t written a new song in months.” He looked out the window again. “I could always write.”
“You could write because you were out living before. You can write an on the road song, but it’s not really you.”
“Journey wrote the perfect song. Nothing matches ‘Faithfully’. Period.”
The band might be a bit before our time, but our parents had instilled a great love of 70s and 80s music.