Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
It did.
He remembered so much about me. Some things I even forgot about myself.
"I wish I could give you some meaning. I guess they were just... things that reminded me of my aunts. I really wasn't conscious of doing it." I must have doodled them after I finished writing the letters, while my mind was still in places other than the present situation. Then when I snapped out of it, I'd thrown it in an envelope after without glancing over it again.
I never wanted to stay in that Navesink Bank headspace for too long. I knew it would be too hard to leave it behind if I did.
"Are you excited to see your parents?" he asked, following me as I dropped down on the couch.
"I think the predominant feeling is worry."
"Worry," he repeated, brows knitting. "You're worried to see your parents? Why?"
I couldn't seem to make eye-contact, pretending instead that inspecting my ripped cuticles required my utmost attention.
"I'm not who I was, Vance. You see that. I know they're going to see that."
"It doesn't matter who you are. You're still their daughter."
"You don't understand," I objected, shaking my head.
"Then help me understand."
I wanted to.
God, I wanted to share it.
Which was all the more reason I couldn't. The desire to talk about it, to spill all the pain and heartbreak and fear and sacrifice over the past several years was just more proof that being here, that being around these people who had known me so well, was going to make it impossible to keep myself as detached as I would need to continue to do my job.
"I can't talk about it. Not really. But... it's just. There's not as much to love now."
"Ace, there is plenty of you to love."
There was no stopping the scoff that escaped me. "How would you know?"
"Maybe you've changed. Maybe there is some coldness and some guards, honey, but you're still you. You still have the same likes and dislikes. You're still sharp. I get that you've changed. But we've all changed. That's what time does. You might find some things different about your parents and aunts and uncles. And you damn sure will find things different with your siblings. Your life didn't stop when you went away. And none of our lives stopped either. Everyone is going to have to get reacquainted."
"Why did you quit the band?" I blurted out.
"What?" he asked, jolting back at the change of topic.
"You said I would need to get reacquainted with everyone. That we've all changed. You're here. You've changed. So why did you quit the band?"
This time, it was his turn for his gaze to slip from mine, staring forward toward the front window, the blinds much cleaner than they had been when I had left, leaving me to wonder if he had somehow also inherited his mother's and Iggy's habit of cleaning when they were stressed or restless.
"I didn't quit. I was forced out."
"Forced out," I scoffed. "You were the only one with any talent in that band. You created that band. How could they force you out?"
"Pretty easily, it turns out," he admitted, shaking his head.
"Tell me," I demanded, knowing I had no right to ask when I wasn't willing to give him anything, but finding I needed to know, I had to know what he'd been going through over all these years.
"I saw you had picked up our Waiting album," he started, looking at me, almost daring me to deny I had done so.
"You told my story."
"I tried," he admitted, nodding. "I think it was cathartic, a way to help me sort through the situation. I didn't really mean for it all to become an album. But the guys came across it all one day. They loved it. We decided to go ahead and make the album. We expected much of the same thing we'd always had in the past. Sell a couple CDs to the local fans, get a few further away gigs to try to expand a little. But it blew up. We literally couldn't keep stocked. We had lines at our shows. And then there was a record producer and a contract and some serious shit. I think we were all too stunned to do anything but sign the papers and agree to everything."
"Understandable. That must have been very exciting."
"You'd think," he agreed, nodding.
"That was your dream. How were you not excited?" All I ever remembered him talking about was making a name for himself, following the greats, making music, playing shows, going on wild adventures. Once someone was offering him all of that, he should have been over the moon.
"I was in a weird place. In my own head a lot. It was kind of dark days back then. I just... went with the flow. It sort of happened around me instead of to me. If that makes sense."