Page 11 of More Than Scars

Chapter Five

Bowie

“Hey, dad, Uncle Rick, where are you guys at this week?” I asked when their faces popped into the video screen together. There were only two ways to tell them apart. Dad had always worn his hair longer, and Uncle Rick’s eyes were a lighter shade of green than my old man’s emerald.

“Denver,” UncleRick replied.

“Are those boxes I see in the background there?” Dad asked. “What’s going on, kid? Are you moving again? I thought you and Tony loved living in that building. Didn’t you say your landlord was chill about your being musicians as long as you kept your practicing up in Tony’s space?”

“Yeah, Dad, he’s been nothing but awesome to us, no issues at all,” I explained. “It’s just that Tony and I, well, let me wait to explain once everyone else is on the line. I pinged Morrison, Tyler, Bon, and Daltrey, and they all say they’ll be on in a few minutes, and Mom said to give her five to get to her room, she was just getting back to the hotel after touring the concert hall. Tony’s going to run me over to Nicky’s place so I can tell her in person on our way to see his old man.”

“Sounds like big news,” Uncle Rick said.

“The biggest,” I admitted.

“Son, if you and Tony ran off and had a Vegas wedding, you’d better break that to your mom gently because you know how badly she had her heart set on officiating your wedding and making your wedding cake.”

Sputtering I just stared wide-eyed at Dad while Uncle Rick cracked up beside him. All I could think about was the way Stoli had asked if we were a couple, back in Seattle, and how it wasn’t the first time someone had made that assumption about us. I loved Tony’s wacky, unpredictable ass to pieces, but it was the same kind of love I felt for my brothers. One day you wanted to hug them, and the other you wanted to choke the life out of them for dragging you out of bed at ass o’clock in the morning. Though I couldn’t hold this last instance against Tony. If he hadn’t dragged me to those auditions, neither of us would have the contracts we hold now and a chance at the future we’d always dreamed of.

“Mom will just have to wait a little longer to flex her decorating skills,” I told him. “Tony and I haven’t been to Vegas in ages.”

“Might be the safest thing for your wallets,” Uncle Rick said. “Neither of you has much skill at the blackjack table, especially when you mix tequila into the equation. How many times do I gotta tell you that you’re supposed to stand on eighteen and not risk it pushing for a three?”

“Trust me when I say we’ve learned to leave the gambling to you.”

“Wow, I’m in awe that it only took losing your shirts, literally, to teach you that lesson,” Uncle Rick replied, deliberately needling me.

“Hey now,” my dad jumped in, “at least the boys didn’t have to hitch home like someone did back in ’97.”

“Told you never to mention that ’97 trip to me again,” Uncle Rick grumbled.

“Then leave the boy alone about the jersey,” Dad said. “It was a Lions one anyway. As far as I’m concerned, that’s an acceptable loss.”

Smacking a hand to my face, I just shook my head at the two of them and listened to the ping of my brothers arriving in the chatroom, their voices soon echoing through the speakers, greeting everyone and asking what they’d missed to have them laughing so hard.

“Just reminding your uncle about the pink slip he lost back in ’97. That Mustang was a classic too, would have been worth way more now than what he lost it for on the blackjack table.”

“Just keep rubbing it in, why don’t you.”

“All day every day,” Dad said as one more ping sounded and his whole tone changed. “There’s my lovely lady. How’s New York treating you, sweetheart?”

“Busy, the same as always,” she replied, her bright smile proof that she was enjoying every moment of it too. “Tonight’s show is sold out, and they’ve asked me to come back in December to perform a series of holiday shows, including two nights at Rockefeller Center.”

“You did tell them yes, right?”

“I did, but I would like it very much if you would join me out there.”

“Consider it done.”

That was just the way it had always been between them. Mom never had to ask him for anything twice, especially not for his time and attention. He’d rearrange the universe for her in a heartbeat, and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that while they were enjoying time together in New York, my uncle would be back at the house, getting everything set up for the holidays. How many of us made it home was always anyone’s guess with the way we all tended to travel. For the past several years, though, Tony had joined me onmy trek back to Eugene, preferring to spend the holidays with my boisterous, fun-loving family rather than his morose, cantankerous old man.

“Well, now that you have us here, son, why don’t you share the amazing news you teased us all with?” Dad urged.

“Yeah, man, seriously, this is the biggest family chat we’ve had since Nicky announced that she’d gotten the lead in that Darksiders Blues ballet,” Bon said. “Now spill, man, and stop leaving us hanging.”

“Alright, alright, damn,” I grumbled.

I’d have flipped him the bird, but not with Mom in the chatroom.