“What the fuck is wrong with you people?” he snapped. “Let’s have some fun tonight.”
He raised a bottle of Jack as he stumbled farther into the room. Now I knew why the dressing room had been so quiet. Hank was loaded. He stumbled and tripped over his own two feet. Dylan rushed in after him.
“Come on, Dad. Let’s go party in your dressing room.” He hooked his arm under his father’s shoulder and hauled Hank to his feet. “I’ve got this great coffee drink that will make you feel like a million bucks.”
“Coffee? Why the fuck would I want coffee?” Hank slurred.
“Pamela shipped it from home. It’s the stuff from Jamaica that you love. We’ve got a show, Dad.” Dylan tugged him toward the door. “You don’t want your adoring fans to see you this loaded.”
“Like they haven’t seen that before,” Hank said with a maniacal laugh.
“Yeah, don’t forget what happened in Bakersfield.” Dylan pulled harder and Hank gave in.
“Fuck Bakersfield,” he said, but the air had left him. Whatever happened in Bakersfield was enough to make Hank want to sober up. “When’s Pamela coming back? She’s a good assistant.”
“End of summer,” Dylan said as he finally got Hank to move.
Nobody said a word as we went back to preparing for the show. Crystal turned my chair and applied the makeup. Normally, I did it myself because I didn’t like her style. Tonight, even if it was for a few hours, I wanted to be somebody else. She finished up just before we headed toward the stage for a quick soundcheck. With a sad smile, she turned my chair.
The woman staring back at me was so different than who I was. She had an attitude. My blue eyes popped from the cat’s eye shape the black eyeliner was drawn into. My cheeks had more bone and less babyfat. And my lips puckered with a deep rose red. I turned toward Crystal.
“Will you teach me?” I pointed to my face.
She squeezed my shoulder. “Anytime. You’ve always got a place at my house, Cami. You need an escape, come to me. Okay?”
I nodded.
“Maybe after the show, we can go get some coffee and you can tell me what’s going on.”
“I’d like that,” I said.
“Let’s go, guys. Hank may sound like shit tonight, but that doesn’t mean we have to,” Heath said. It brought a smattering of laughter from the crowd.
“If you have to take the mic, do it.” Crystal stepped past me and headed toward Heath. He smiled and put his arm around her waist.
I didn’t have to take the mic. The show never even started.
We sat at tables and a booth at All-Night Long Dinner on the edge of town. Heath wanted to get away from the pissed off tourists who didn’t get to see Hank Walker perform. The rest of the band, sans Dylan, readily agreed. We sat scattered in the same general area with untouched cups of coffee in front of us.
“What’re we going to do?” Crystal asked.
“Go back tomorrow, go through the motions, pray he’s not wasted,” Heath responded.
Mike tossed his crumbled napkin on the table. “This was supposed to be a big shot. Fucking prima donna wasted our chance. I hate that son of a bitch.”
“This might’ve been my last shot,” Crystal said. She slumped against her seat. Heath put his arm around her. “I’m not getting any younger.”
I didn’t say anything. All I could think about was Dylan. How was he handling this? I pulled out my phone. Before I could text him, Crystal slid it from my hand.
“Honey, don’t,” she said softly.
I nodded. She was right. I’d lost that privilege. On the way to the diner, I’d told her about the breakup. Heath drove, but he didn’t say a word until we pulled into the parking lot of the diner. Then he just said, “We’re here.”
“Fuck this. I’m getting drunk. Who’s with me?” Mike stood and headed toward the door. The others at the table grumbled then followed. Heath and Crystal shared a knowing glance.
“I’m sorry,” I said. They wanted to go with their older friends. It was my fault they were stuck here with me. I wrapped my hands around the mug, taking what little warmth was left.
“Don’t be. Mike’s pissed and needs to blow off some steam.” Heath finally sipped his coffee. His lips puckered. He stared into the mug, shrugged, then drained it. I smiled at him. “Coffee’s never been my favorite.”
“Then why’d you order it?” Crystal asked after giving him a playful slap.
“Time for a revisit. Still not a fan.” He waved at the woman behind the counter. “Can I get a milkshake? Half vanilla, half chocolate, no whip cream.”
She nodded and turned toward the machine.
“More your speed?” Crystal asked with a smile. “Did you think to ask us?”
“You want one? You never eat ice cream.” He raised an eyebrow.
“Nah, but Cami might.”
Heath turned toward me, eyebrow still raised but now it looked comical. I laughed and nodded.
“I’ll be back.” He slid out of the booth and stood at the counter, patiently waiting for the server to notice him.
“Tell me the real reason you’re not running off to California with Dylan after this nightmare of a show is over,” Crystal ordered as she tasted her coffee. “The real reason you’re staying here.”
I glanced over to where Heath stood at the counter, eating his shake with a spoon. He gave us a thumbs up.
“My... my mom needs me.” My voice cracked on the words, but Crystal didn’t need to talk to some little girl. She needed me to be the grown up I was now. Mom needed me to be the grown up, too. “The bills had piled up.” I spun the mug around in circles. “I never noticed before, but they were on the table. There were a bunch of final notices. So I used all my money to pay them.”
“Oh
