“‘Grew’being the operative word.” I’d been a gangling twink when he knew me and hit my peak around thirty. The decade since then had been marked by too much stress, too much junk food, and too little exercise. My recent growing had all been sideways.
“In a good way. And I like the beard. It works for you. You could even go longer and thicker.”
“Not and wear a mask when I need to.”
“Oh. Right.” He hesitated. “How’s Alice?”
“Dead.” I didn’t look at him or soften the word. I realized I wanted to hurt him. And how twisted was that? The only reason her loss would hurt him was because it devastated me, and I knew he would still care.
“Oh, Lee, I’m so sorry.”
The roughness of his tone made me relent enough to say, “Six years ago. A long time.” It didn’t feel like a long time. My little sister had almost made thirty, a triumph for her condition but a painfully short life for those of us who loved her.
“Still. She was so important to you.”
“Yes. Thanks.” I pulled out a sandwich and took a big bite. Griffin was silent as I choked the food down. To get the attention off me, I said, “You made it pretty big, music man. Made Griffin Marsh a household name, like you swore you would.” Back in the day, I’d been torn between hoping he’d fail and come crawling back, and hoping he’d succeed and make all the pain worth it. “You played with some huge names.” I couldn’t help asking, “Was it worth it? Was it everything you hoped?”
“Yes and no?” He shifted on the bench, turning more toward me, but I kept my attention on my lunch. “I had some moments I’ll remember till the day I die. I played Madison Square Garden. Played in front of a hundred thousand people at Lollapalooza in Chicago. I jammed with some of my heroes, and I got to mentor a couple of young bands that are tearing up the music scene now. I can’t regret all that.”
“I’m glad,” I said and realized I meant it. Twenty years was a long time to hold a grudge, and surely I could let it go now.He didn’t ditch me for nothing.
“Wasn’t all roses. It’s a lonely life. Well, you’d understand that better than most. There’s not much room for healthy relationships. Lots of booze, lots of drugs. I saw talented people crash and burn.” He bowed his head, staring at the ground.
“Ouch,” I murmured after he’d been silent a while. I wondered if there was someone in particular he was thinking of.
“Yeah. And the money’s a lot more shitty than people realize, especially now. When I was starting out, you could sell a bunch of albums, maybe make some money that way if your label wasn’t too crooked. But by the time I hit my stride, album sales were already fading. Now it’s about the live shows and the merch, and fighting for a decent cut of that money. I filled big stadiums, but I never had a million bucks on hand.”
“No Lamborghini?” I teased, remembering he’d once gone off on a drunken ode to his symbol of striking it rich.
“No. Fuck, no. I have an SUV and it’s in storage.”
Because he can’t drive for a year.And yes, maybe I’d Googled more details of Griffin’s trial than were really my business. But I wanted to know where we stood. “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his mouth twist. “Neither was I. Obviously.”
I balled up the plastic wrap off my sandwich and took a slug of soda. Checking my phone, I saw half my pump-limited lunch break had flown by. I could stick to more superficial questions. Now we’d broken the ice, we could talk again another time. But I decided to bite the bullet.
I took one last hit of sugar and caffeine, capped the bottle, and turned to Griffin. “It really hurt when you left.”
“I’m sorry.” He didn’t meet my gaze.
“And that’s it?” I guess I hadn’t completely lost the grudge. “Sorry?”
He raised his eyes to mine then. “What do you want me to say? I had an invitation to tour with HeartTrap, nine months, international and U.S., opening for a big band in places that’d never heard my name. A once in a lifetime break, because Jordan happened to catch my show and liked what he heard. Walking away would’ve been saying my entire career didn’t matter.”
“Didn’t matter more than me, you mean. Alice was in the hospital for the first long stay, and we’d just found out her diagnosis. I needed you.” My throat tightened, remembering those days.
“I stayed as long as I could. There was nothing I could really do to help. I said you could call me, any time. I tried…”
“I didn’t need a voice at the other end of a phone.” I broke on the last word and didn’t say the rest out loud.I needed your arms around me.
“If I could’ve torn myself in two, I’d have done it then.” The midday sun caught the shine in Griffin’s eyes. “I thought about you all the time. I tried to call you.”
Unless he was coming home, I hadn’t wanted to hear from him. And he hadn’t been coming home. Looking back, I could see what an impossible choice that’d been for Griffin. We’d only been together three months. No matter how certain I’d been that Griff was the one, he’d been a musician in his thirties with one shot at the rockstar gold ring, and I’d just been the twink he was dating. Didn’t mean it didn’t still hurt.
“I was too busy to think about you that much,” I lied. “Alice’s first stroke meant a lot of accommodations at home, and I had exams, and job hunting. I was super busy. And I’m still busy.” I pushed to my feet, stuffed the remains of my lunch back into the bag, and dusted off the seat of my scrubs. “Good talk, though. I figure now we can work side by side in Wellhaven and not have issues.”
“Uh-huh.” Griffin squinted up at me, the sun in his eyes, but didn’t stand. “As friends?”
