Four

FOUR

O ut onto the busy sidewalk, I crossed it quickly and stepped off into the street, walking by the parked cars. It was just after two, so there were lots of people out. I contemplated going to pick up some beeswax candles I needed for the patio lanterns, maybe even over to the book bus that I could see down the road to my right. You could not miss that rainbow-painted bus.

“Christopher!”

Turning at the sound of my name, I saw Ben Jackson, drummer for the Dregs, charging up the sidewalk toward me.

“Holy shit,” I called over to him, smiling. “Lookit you all clean and shiny.”

“In every way,” he promised as he did the same thing I had and got out onto the actual street, jogging to reach me alongside the parked cars.

Not a tall man, shorter than me, but at six two, a lot of men were. He lunged when he was close enough, and I wrapped him in my arms.

“Jesus, Benny, you’ve really been working out, huh? I’ve never seen you with this much muscle on you.”

He really hugged me, tight, hard, so I knew his missing me was real. The last time I’d seen him, much like Dawson, he’d been thinner, wasting away, the rock-and-roll lifestyle not something he was suited to. But now there was new muscle on the man, and his color was back, the ruddy complexion having returned.

“I lost so much weight with the drugs and all,” he said hesitantly. “You remember when you saw me in LA.”

“I do,” I said, as he released me and I took a step back.

“Later, I went to rehab, twice, and there’s nothing to do there but eat, and talk about your problems, and work and talk about your problems, and finally I started running and swimming and lifting weights just to have a break from listening to myself share.”

“You say share like it’s a bad thing.”

“You do it three times a day in a group and one-on-one, and we’ll see how much you enjoy that shit.”

“And yet,” I said, gesturing at him. “You can’t argue with the results.”

“Yeah.”

He had stuck to a schedule, that was easy to see. “You look really good.”

I was surprised then because he stepped in close again, apparently compelled to hug me a second time. Then, before I could tease him, or ask if he was all right, he gave me a last squeeze, and shoved me out to arm’s length. Staring at my face a moment, he finally clapped me on the shoulder.

All of them, the whole band, had looked like absolute hell when I’d seen them that last time in Los Angeles. And it wasn’t because of the long, unkempt manes, the ungroomed facial hair, the new tats, piercings, or anything else. It had been how run-down they all looked, road weary, burned out, and just utterly spent. They had played in my club for a year, night after night, and never looked so beat.

But now Ben, who had always been heavy-set, looked like guys I saw at the gym, bulked up and strong. His hair was styled, shorter than mine, shaved on the sides and back and longer on top. There was one earring, nothing else on his face, and he was wearing a polo, for heaven’s sake. The change was mind-blowing in the best way.

I smiled at him. “Explain.”

He shrugged. “Basically, Angie got pregnant a year ago when I was home between tour dates, and then suddenly she shows up in Rome where we’re doing a concert, and she fuckin’ gives me this hard-core, now-or-never, take-it-or-leave-it ultimatum, and I go from telling Daw he’s crazy, that sure as shit we can go on without Lu or Enoch or Carlos, to taking it all back and saying, fuck ya, man, let’s go to rehab.”

“The others left? It was only you two in the band?”

He nodded. “Oh yeah. Luther was out before we went on the road to promote the third album. He split and went and did the studio-musician thing in LA.”

“I had no idea. I didn’t follow the band.”

“Why would you? I wouldn’t have.”

I grinned at him. “How was rehab, buddy?”

He shook his head. “Chris, man, that was the worst. The worst! I hated that shit. Detoxing sucks. Cold sweats suck. Shaking and barfing and being covered in snot, and my favorite—shitting myself. I wanted to die; I swear to God.”

I took hold of his shoulder, and he clapped my hand once, nodding.

“I’m guessing it got better.”

“Once you flush all the poison out of your system, including the nicotine, can I just say, tasting food and smelling the rain, that will blow your mind.”

His words made me smile.

“But even the cigarettes had to go, right? I can’t smoke around a kid.”

“No.”

“You know me, I’m a two-pack-a-day guy, but where Daw and I went, they’re not fuckin’ around. They don’t do anything to make it easy.”

“That can be dangerous, can’t it?”

“Yeah, but we were, like, basically new to it. When we were playing in your club, and then on the road before we hit Nashville, we were poor. We couldn’t afford drugs or alcohol. We had to eat and pay for hotel rooms and buy water. None of us were drug addicts until we hit it big.”

“I see. So the place you went to get clean, they take how long you’ve been drinking and smoking and snorting and everything else into consideration?”

“That’s right. It’s in Oregon, out in the fuckin’ boonies, and there’s nothing there but the sky and the sea and this sanctuary for horses.”

“Horses?”

He nodded. “Once you get clean, you start working. Have you ever mucked out stables? That is gross, man.” He exhaled deeply. “But the things I saw there, the things people do to animals they’re supposed to care for… It broke my heart.”

“I bet.”

“So you take care of them, day after day, getting them to trust you, and the whole time you’re eating better, talking to these counselors as you work your ass off. It’s dark when you get up, and it’s dark when you go to bed. I didn’t even dream while I was there. Too fuckin’ tired. I used to shower and fall facedown on my bed, and that was it until the alarm went off the next morning.”

“It sounds like they purge your body and then your mind.”

“Yeah. That’s it exactly.”

“You want to walk with me, get a cup of coffee?”

“As long as it’s close. I gotta get Daw whenever he gets done talking to…well, not you since you’re out here with me so…who? Simone?”

I nodded.

“I figured.”

“Coffee’s right here. C’mon,” I said, hand on his shoulder as we walked.

Three doors down, we got espressos to go, then sat outside on the wide window ledge, which was just like mine outside the club.

“How long were you in rehab?”

“Me and Daw both went twice, three months each time, all at the same place. There’s like a beginners, and then the next level. We were both next-level fucked up.”

“Gotcha.”

“But I think because me and Daw did it together, we were roommates in hell and we both hated it so much, and because we talked about everything, especially our reasons for getting clean, I feel like that made it better, you know? He would remind me about the little girl Angie was carrying, and I would remind him about you.”

I glanced away, because that I could not bear to hear.

“Aw, man, it’s true, but I get that he just showed up outta the blue. I told him a million times, especially after he let the time between phone calls get to be too long, you know? I told him, for fuck’s sake, Daw, call the man and spill your guts, let him know everything that’s goin’ on. Tell him you’re gettin’ clean to come back and start your life.”

But he hadn’t, and that was all right.

“Hey,” Ben said, and I turned to look at him. “So while I was in rehab, Angie came to visit. She said she walks down here all the time to go to the park with Layla and stops in to see you all.”

I nodded. I liked Angela Jackson, and once I had separated her from Ben in my mind, I could see her and her beautiful daughter and not think about a life that could have been. And she must’ve felt the same, otherwise she wouldn’t have renewed our friendship. “Your little girl is gorgeous. You’re so lucky she came out looking like her mother.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

I laughed at him.

“But yeah, you’re right. My little girl is an angel, and so is her mother.”

“So what’s it like now being back out in the world, because there’s still a helluva lot of temptations for you. Is it hard to deal with?”

He shook his head. “I’ll always be an alcoholic, and I miss cigarettes, but the drugs I don’t pine for like all the rest. And when I added up all the money that went into my veins and up my nose… Jesus, that’s college money I don’t have anymore.”

“You have time.”

“No. Not according to Angie. In another three years Layla will have to be enrolled in a very fancy, very expensive preschool, so no. It’s on, starting now, saving money for my kid’s education.”

“So you’re saying, from a purely financial standpoint, no drugs for you?” I teased him.

“I wouldn’t do ’em now even if I could. I have too much to lose.”

“That’s good. So no vices anymore?”

He chuckled. “Only coffee, and I will say I’m a bit of a snob about it. My cafecito is better than they make anywhere in the Quarter.”

“I believe you.”

“Well, you need to come to my house and have some. Angie says she’s invited you a million times, and you sent a gift for the baby shower but didn’t show up.”

“It’s not so easy, Ben. You got your life back, and I’m happy for you. But I would have to be crazy to step back into the whirlwind with Dawson West.

“And I get that. I do,” he affirmed, patting my knee. “But what you’ll realize, when you’re around him a bit, is that he’s nothing like he used to be.”

I shot him a look.

“No, I know. But he gave up the drugs and alcohol too, and he was never addicted to nicotine, so unlike me, he doesn’t look like a crazy person leaning into smoke when he’s walking down the street and people are exhaling.”

“I can see you doing that.”

“It’s embarrassing, but what I mean when I say he’s changed, it’s that the man now has only two things in life that he wants.”

“He told us. He’s working on an album.”

“He is. He’s writing again. Finally. And that’s great. That’s amazing. But what he wants, what he needs, is a home and you.”

It hurt like I didn’t think it would, or could, and I stood up fast. “Really, I can’t hear that.”

“Yeah,” he said quickly, getting up, taking my empty cup from me and then bumping me with his shoulder. “Let’s walk back.”

After he threw the cups away, we again stepped into the street, walking single file down the road until we were back where we started, in front of my place.

“So you’ll like this,” he said, like things hadn’t been heavy a moment before. “Guess who’s living with me and Angie and our little girl?”

“Tell me.”

He tipped his head at me, then raised his hands up like it was obvious, made me smile.

“Luther?”

“Yeah. That’s right. Fuckin’ Luther.”

“You love him.”

“I used to love him. Now he’s annoying.”

I crossed my arms. “Go on.”

“While living in California, he turned into a hipster vegan.”

Really, I tried so hard not to laugh.

“Dude, he has a man bun now, he makes kombucha—that’s basically all he drinks besides more water than I think is healthy—he and Angie do yoga in our backyard, and apparently, deodorant is bad for you, did you know that? He’s rubbing this natural stone something on his armpits, and he smells like patchouli, not because he’s smoking weed, but because he likes it. Who likes patchouli?” He sounded utterly horrified.

“I can’t wait to see him.”

“You’re gonna freak out. He’s all touchy-feely now too. He’ll stare at me and tell me how clear my aura is.”

It was too much, and I started chuckling.

“I mean seriously, my aura?”

“Stop,” I barely got out.

“And of course, the baby loves him because he’s covered in mandalas and he wears tie-dye, and when she gets older, she’ll think he’s a Muppet.”

After a few moments, I exhaled a deep breath. “What about Carlos and Enoch?”

“Enoch got married, did you hear that?”

“No, I have not been in the loop on anything. When Dawson cut the cord, that was it.”

He squinted at me.

“What?”

“That was never his intention.”

It was my fault that time. I brought him up. “Sorry. Tell me about Enoch.”

“I just need to say really quick that Dawson honestly thought you guys hit pause on everything. He thought his life here, you, would be waiting for him when he finally got his musical career sorted out how he wanted, and then, later, once he got clean.”

I cleared my throat. “You’re a good friend to him, Ben, but let’s not kid ourselves. After the last time I saw you all, he made a choice not to talk to me anymore. And I get it. His career meant more, and that’s understandable. But there was no pause. There was only an end.”

After a moment, he nodded. “I told him that. I said, you can’t expect people to wait when you don’t say anything.”

“I mean, look at you.”

“That’s true. I made sure I flew home or sent Angie a ticket so she could get to me. I was not letting that girl ever get rid of me.”

It made perfect sense. Angela Jackson was a goddess. “Exactly.”

He huffed out a breath. “Well, okay, so Enoch married this guy, Neville, who writes a webcomic called Karma and the Dragon , about this police detective in San Francisco who solves crimes with the help of a thousand-year-old Shaolin monk.”

“Oh. That sounds pretty good.”

“It is good. So good, in fact, that Netflix is making it into a show. It’s in production now, and everyone is very excited.”

“That’s awesome.”

“Unlike Luther,” he said with an eye roll, “they got a place over on Telegraph, because along with playing the guitar in the band, Enoch makes pottery now.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. And it’s nice. Like, I have plates and mugs and shit. He’ll bring you stuff too because, as Luther felt the need to explain to me, gift-giving is his love language.”

“Enoch’s love language.”

“That’s correct.”

“I am very much enjoying how annoyed you are about Luther.”

“I will remind you about this when he shows up in his long, flowing outfits and his sandals and his man bun.”

“So you’re saying there’s no more leather pants and cowboy hats?” I teased him.

“Don’t get me wrong, he’s still Luther, and I love him, but he needs to get his own place, even though we do, in fact, have an apartment over our garage.”

I didn’t say a word.

“That face you’re making right there, that’s the same face Angie’s making, but I told her, one of these days, he’s gonna bring home some weird girl, and then we’re screwed.”

“Or the girl will want him to live with her in a treehouse or something.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah. That’s good. I like your thought process there. But in the meantime, realize that Luther will be talking to all your people about their chakras and shit.”

“I can’t wait.”

He groaned. “Anyway, at the place on Telegraph, Enoch has his showroom on the first floor and his sales office behind that. On the second floor, overlooking the street, is Neville’s office, where he draws and everything, and the room behind that is their bedroom. It’s really nice, and they’re down there by a lot of other shops, not by the bars, so it works out great.”

“I will have to go check out Enoch’s stuff.”

“Oh, man, he’s got a website, he ships stuff all over the world, he’s doing great with it. He started doing all that while waiting for me and Daw to figure out our lives and get out of rehab.”

“Good for him.”

“Yeah, I’m glad he wants to work on the new album and play with us again. It wouldn’t be the same without him.”

“And how is he with Luther’s plant-based diet?”

“He might try it if he was still allowed a cheeseburger now and then.”

I was chuckling as I asked after the last member of the group, Carlos Ortega.

“Carlos married Rebecca, remember her?”

I did. “She played keyboards for you guys, didn’t she?”

“Yeah, and now she writes soundtracks for movies and TV shows, and since she can do that from wherever, and because she’s in demand, so she can pick the projects she wants to work on, they moved here as well. She loves the Quarter, was gushing about it the other night. She feels inspired here.”

“Most artists do.”

“And Carlos was more than happy to leave Crisis and rejoin us.”

“Crisis is a huge band. They were here last year and sold out the Superdome.”

He nodded.

“And Carlos was willing to leave that?”

“C’mon, man, we’re not only a band, we’re a family. But what’s different now is, even when Daw’s ready and we start recording, it’s never gonna be the same, and I mean that in a good way. In the best way.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I mean, we’ll play some live shows, do some appearances to promote the album, but the days of us being gone for nine, ten months outta the year—hell no. That’s over.”

“You won’t become millionaires like that.”

“And that thinking right there, that used to matter. Not anymore.”

I looked at him.

“What?”

“The last time I saw you, all you wanted was for you and the guys to be the next Led Zeppelin.”

He groaned. “Yeah, I know. And don’t get me wrong, we’ve put out some really good music that people love, but why can’t I have both? Why does it have to be all or nothing? Why can’t I have a home with my wife and my daughter, and still make music with friends?”

I gave him a clap on the shoulder. “You can do whatever you want. The world is your oyster and all that.”

He squinted at me.

“You know what I meant.”

“Well, what we’d like now is to be your house band again because that’s home, yanno? Back where we started, split profits again, and when we go out on tour or when we start making the record, we’ll be responsible for finding people to fill in.”

I met his gaze, and he smiled slowly.

“Unless you don’t want to do that,” he said innocently. “I hear gospel’s really hot right now.”

I flipped him off. “I thought they were a country band.”

“I’m sure you did with your discerning eye and all.”

Shoving my hands into my pockets, I walked toward the club entrance. Ben followed, but instead of letting me go back, he shoved me sideways so I was forced to take a hard seat on the windowsill—I’d had it widened years ago so people could sit there when the band was playing in the evening.

“Two things,” he said flatly.

“Go ahead.”

“First, you’ve gotta be hurt that we were all here, all back in the Quarter, but no one came by or looked you up.”

I shrugged.

“It would hurt me, so I know it has to be the same.”

“You had your reasons,” I conceded. “I know that.”

“Which might sound stupid to you but, there was no way without Dawson here that we could’ve just shown up,” he told me. “It wouldn’t have been right to come before he could. Before he was ready.”

“I get that.”

“But I really need you to hear me on this,” he choked out, and I saw his eyes narrow so he wouldn’t cry, heard his breath catch, and saw him press his lips together tight for a moment. “We don’t work without him, and he’s the same. So it had to be the group ready to return, not just one of us. Not only me, or only Luther or any of us. But together.”

It was how they had always been, all parts of the whole.

“What I need you to know, and remember, is that how we are doesn’t mean you’re not––” His voice went out on him and he had to stand there a moment and gather himself up. “––a part of us too.”

His swimming eyes stole my words for a moment but I recovered. “Thank you.”

He took a deep breath in and then exhaled it out.

“And second?” I rasped, as affected by the surge of feeling as he was.

“Second, don’t keep us from making money and helping you at the same time just because of your history with Daw.”

I made no comment, just stared at the ground.

“We can go somewhere else,” he said, and I looked up at him. “But we don’t want to.”

I nodded.

“I mean, Christmas is in a week and a half. Wouldn’t it be easier if it was just us playing at the club like old times?”

“Of course it would. That’s why I left it to Simone, Darcy and Xola, and Georgine. They’ll be fair, and they’ll want you, I have no doubt.”

“It only makes sense, right?”

I nodded.

“That’s smart of you, Chris, not to let your heart get involved. But you always were smart. I respect the kind of businessman you are.”

“Thanks.”

“Oh, look, we’re just in time. Here they come with the verdict.”

Simone squealed behind me, which made sense. She was happy to see Ben. Everyone loved the man. He was one of the calmest, kindest, most chill people I’d ever met in my life. We’d never needed a bouncer at my club when they were there, because if anyone got unruly, Ben would walk over and talk them down. In their absence, I’d taken care of that part myself. I had the height and muscle for the job, but I’d noticed ever since everyone was allowed back out after the height of the pandemic in 2020 and 2021 that no one wanted to get up in my face anymore, at least not at my place. Those who enjoyed being around people again just wanted to have fun. Plus, as a rule, our clientele leaned toward drunk and wanting to dance, not drunk and angry.

“Do I have a job?” Ben asked Simone.

“Yes, always,” she cried happily, racing through the door of the club and into his arms. She leaped, and he caught her. They were pretty cute.

I didn’t look at Dawson. I didn’t want to, and more importantly, I didn’t have to. Simone could talk to our accountant, and he would draw up the contract giving the band half of the drink sales from whatever time they went on to close. We never charged a cover, it was too hard to keep track of, and we would have had to close the window shutters so people couldn’t stand around outside and listen. The alcohol and food sales made us our money, and adding something on top of that seemed like a bad idea.

Standing, I told Georgine I would go pick up Cami since I was starving anyway.

“That’s perfect,” she said, and when I glanced at her, she was smiling. “I have some extra specials I’m trying out for dinner.”

I nodded and started up the street toward the corner. When I made the turn, I could honestly say I wasn’t upset that Dawson hadn’t come after me. Us, me and him, that was over and done, and we should let it go. Seeing him again had thrown me for a loop, but next time, I’d be prepared. I could handle things as long as they didn’t leap out at me. I’d never been a fan of the jump scare.