Every Mile a Memory

Chapter 9

It was a little harder to find solitude to write the blog. Part of it was because everyone seemed to be everywhere, mixing and mingling and, in general, having a boisterously joyous time. And I was not. Even when I found a spot way out past the trailers near the exit of the grounds, the noise in my head was loud. There was too much going on internally to properly concentrate—the words Finn had said to me, the words he said to Hawk, and my feelings on both.

I loved my job. It was everything I could have asked for in a career. It was a subject I was interested in. It gave me freedom, for the most part, to be creative. I was treated as a professional with valued ideas. I got to travel. And I got to meet so many genuine, nice, loving people.

And then there was Hawk. I was falling fast. And for the first time, sitting there near tears, I was realizing it. Rationally, I knew it was early. We hadn’t known each other long, and we hadn’t even slept together. But thinking about him and the implications of Finn’s words made me realize how much I cared…how much I didn’t want to be apart from him.

I needed to balance. I needed to find a way to have both. I needed it to work.

“Maya, hey, I was looking for you. I even tried your phone.” Lara’s voice slightly startled me because I had been so entranced by the cursor blinking on a still blank screen.

“Turned it off to concentrate,” I said, while attempting to brush at my eyes.

The movement wasn’t as discreet as I’d hoped, though, as she immediately said, “Sheez, what’s wrong?” Wearing a white floral jumper, she sat down next to me on the long bench.

“Nothing. Nothing. Just a rough moment.” I tried for a cheerful expression. “What’s up?”

It was an epic fail, though, because she continued to probe. “Is it Hawk?”

Funny how that was her first thought. It just proved how much my relationship with Hawk was acknowledged and accepted. And maybe it further suggested that I needed to establish a balance.

“No.” But I knew that wasn’t the whole truth.

“Is it Finn? He’s been great with the kids today, but it’s been hard with his dad. But that’s no excuse.” She immediately forged on. “Did he do or say something? I’ll kill him.”

“No. No. No. He didn’t do anything.” Geez, that was the last thing I needed—Finn thinking I tattled to his wife. “No,” I repeated. “It’s just writer’s block and PMS or homesickness. Not a good combination.” I tried to dissuade the astute Mrs. Murphy with humor.

“I hear ya, sista.” Lara seemed to accept what I knew was a very flimsy excuse. “If you’re swamped, let me know…”

“What?” I asked, eager both for a change in subject and wanting to help the Murphys in whichever way I could.

“Do you think you could watch the kids for a little while tomorrow? There’s some radio people coming to interview Finn, and I’m going to pick my friend, Vanessa, up at the airport.”

“Carter’s Vanessa?” I asked, recalling the drummer speaking a couple times about his fiancée.

Lara seemed amused by my response. “Yeah. She was my friend before she became Carter’s.”

“Oh.” That was a fun tidbit. I got back to the question at hand. “I’d be thrilled to watch the kids.” It would help me focus on something else.

“I’m excited for you to meet her,” she spoke of my new, temporary bus mate, since the only coed trailer was the superstar’s himself. “While Vanessa’s on tour with us, I’m sure she’ll help out with the kids, too. She’s almost like a second aunt to them. It will give you more time for, you know, other things.”

By the way she said it, I knew she meant Hawk. But I purposefully ignored the innuendo. “Yeah, I have some new ideas for Reese and Finn, but your kids come first. They are so great, Lara.”

“We think the same of you.” She returned the compliment but didn’t really let the other subject drop. “You sure everything’s okay?”

“Yep.”

“I know you need your alone time,” she recalled after the slightest of pauses. “So I’ll let you be. FYI, though, we’re ready to pull out in about a half hour.”

God, it was that time already? Geez! How long had I been sitting there entangled in my own internal drama?

“I got it. Thanks. Whenever you need me tomorrow, come get me. I’ll put my phone back on before then.”

And then we were back on the buses again for the rest of the day and all through the night. I didn’t receive any punch bug photos or other texts. But then again, I didn’t send a smoke signal out either…and I had been the one who walked away.

***

I turned in a more Finn-suitable blog early that next morning. And taking Finn’s suggestion, it centered around the lack of privacy on tours because, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get the subject out of my mind. I certainly didn’t mention Hawk or anyone having a personal relationship on the road. I made it extremely general, citing cell phone use, bathroom time, and sleeping habits. But even before I started my opening sentence, I knew what my concluding one was going to be about—how special the friendships and bonds formed on the road were and how the private moments, although few, were so treasured and appreciated. And if you could manage the right mixture of both, you couldn’t imagine a better life.

After it was posted, Finn was talking to press, Lara was picking up Vanessa, and I was sitting with the kids in the beachy area right outside our latest concert stop. It was then when I felt my shoulders being rubbed from behind. I didn’t need to turn. I already knew those hands. I closed my eyes for a serene second and then put my one hand on Hawk’s.

“Hi,” I said as he joined me on the white, fluffy blanket. However, when he echoed my statement and started to lean his lips toward mine, I shook my head negatively and leaned back a bit.

Puzzlement seemed to streak across his face, but he did respect my intentions. “Maya…”

“Hawk, no. This is my job.” I tried to explain the kiss denial. “In fact, this, those kids”—I nodded to the two happy Murphy offspring bouncing around in the sand—“are the most important part.”

“I know tha—”

“Hawk, flip me!” Chance broke in to our conversation by running up to his dad’s right-hand man.

Hawk squinted those mesmerizing eyes at me before getting up and obliging the energized four-year-old. Chance’s giggly laugh was infectious, as his body was turned masterfully upside down and back again. I watched as Arinn pointed and laughed at her older brother and as Hawk lit up being the source of delight. It was nice seeing him like that. While he was easy to get along with, he was also serious when it came to his job, which was why I knew he should understand my dilemma and request.

Flipping Chance one last time, he landed both of them in a seated position next to me. “You having fun with Maya?” Hawk asked, poking the little boy playfully in his belly.

“Yeah.” Chance’s smile was like Finn’s when he performed—large and genuine. “Where Daddy?” He obviously associated Hawk with being with Finn when on the road.

“He’s finishing with the radio people,” the elder explained, and then purposefully turned to make the point to me. “He won’t be around for a little while.”

I know he wanted his statement to resolve the boundary I had put up between the two of us. But it didn’t. I wished it did. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to kiss him. God knows I did. And the proximity of his body and the resistance I knew I had to create was making that desire so much stronger.

Maybe I should have said all that, but I didn’t. “Hawk…” There was a definite plea in my voice. “Just…please, just not right now, okay?”

“Maya, it’s all right.” He spoke plainly and clearly, practically punctuating each word.

I was going to call “uncle,” but it came out instead as, “Arinn!” The one-and-a-half-year-old was threatening to toddle away. “Come here.” When I started to stand, I said to her brother, “Chance, we’re gonna go see if we can find some popsicles or something to cool down.” Literally…in more ways than one.

Hawk, grumbling, stood up, bringing Chance with him. “Here,” he said and started to help me fold up the blanket we had been sitting on.

“I got it,” I proclaimed.

“Oh, for God’s sake, Maya. I can help you.” His agitation was clear and legit.

I didn’t need to push him away with everything I did. Short of actually saying thanks, I managed a half smile and let him finish folding the blanket. When I hoisted my bag onto one shoulder and lifted Arinn into my arms, Chance automatically went to claim Hawk’s hand.

Hawk looked a little deflated when he turned to the young Murphy. “You better go with Maya, Chance.”

“Okay,” the little boy said, and transferred to my hand.

“Hawk? You understand, right?”

There was another huge, angst-filled exhale. But it was followed with some hope. “Post-show, then?” he offered. “There will be friends and bonding and…”

I knew he had read it. I’d written it for public consumption, but it was as much for him. I wanted him to understand. I wanted him to know my feelings certainly hadn’t changed.

“It’s just the right mix,” I said, smiling. “Yeah.”

His soft smile back was reassuring. But when he started to conclude our visit how we normally did—a kiss—he stopped himself. “Damn it. We’re gonna have t— Okay, see you tonight.”

***

I didn’t have to watch Chance and Arinn that night. Lara and Vanessa had them covered. But I didn’t go to the concert, either. As much of a Finn Murphy fan as I was and as thrilled as I was having the job of a lifetime, I didn’t need to see another show—at least I didn’t need to watch night after night. I knew the songs, and I got how the behind-the-scenes system worked. That was enough. I don’t know how they all did the same routine every time. But I guess, for someone like Hawk, who was managing more of the behind-the-scenes than hearing what was going on on stage, it was a new experience each time.

With the rare, private time to myself, I took a shower, followed up on personal correspondence, and rested my eyes for a moment before heading to the post-show gathering. I arrived just as the first few people were bringing out the chairs, so I helped. Lara and Vanessa, toting baby monitors, arrived next, and then slowly the band and some of the crew made their way to our intimate circle.

Hawk, whose all-black ensemble was a little sweaty from the hot summer night, flopped onto the empty chair next to me. Everyone knew by then to keep our seats together. It was both a little embarrassing and a little endearing. I hadn’t seen him since the flip-me beach scene and was anxious to. I was eager for us to have a chance—since we were both “off work”—to just be together. He elongated his left arm so he could rest his hand on top of my right. There were a few soft rubs before he held it more definitively. It happened to be at the same time when Finn joined our group, sitting next to his wife and almost directly across from us in the circle.

When I redirected my attention to Hawk, he smiled. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” I answered generically. “How was the show?”

As Hawk was nodding positively, Carter interrupted. “Hey, Maya?” And because he was seated next to Finn, the request of my name was loud enough to stop everyone’s mini conversations. Knowing everyone was looking at me, my hand wiggled underneath Hawk’s, but he wouldn’t let me break our connection. “Yeah?” I finally replied.

“I think it’s about time you blog about the band—starting with the awesome drum work.” The drummer stated his case.

I chuckled along with a few others…everyone was much more relaxed since the concert and all that it entailed was over. “Because that’s really what draws the crowds, right?” I countered in good humor.

Finn brought his bottle back down from his mouth and looked at me. “Maya, remember who signs your paycheck.”

Hawk instantly, and almost through gritted teeth, said to the crooner, “Tell her you’re kidding, man.”

“I know he’s kidding!” I exclaimed. “He knows I am, too.”

I tried to ease Hawk’s obvious tension with an underneath-hand-rub of my own, but his grip on my hand was at its firmest yet. He was still defending me, and he didn’t need to. Finn and I were joking around. We got each other’s sense of humor and Hawk did, too, if he would just loosen up.

Oblivious to the undercurrent, Finn bounced right back. “Yeah, I’m kidding. Although if you want the ‘likes’ instead of ‘tears’ or whatever emoji is in right now, go with the guitar section.”

Two of the guitar players yelled out “Woo! Hoo!” and played a few chords, much to Carter’s chagrin.

“Where’s the love?” he joshed back with Finn.

“Don’t look at me.” Finn took another swipe of beer. “I hope it’s that girl right next to you.”

“Yeah, Carter.” Vanessa, who had long, beachy brunette waves, countered with a playful punch on her fiancé’s arm. “Where is the love?”

“It’s on your finger, for one.” He played with Vanessa’s beautiful sparkling engagement ring. “And right here,” he said, before giving her a show-stopping smooch.

When the “woo-hooing” died down, I asked the happy couple, “When’s the wedding?” As the newbie in the group, I was still trying to figure out the dynamics, plus I was glad to get off the subject of the blog.

“Thanksgiving weekend,” Vanessa answered. “After all this…and before the bad weather.”

“Holiday nuptials…sounds nice,” I commented.

I didn’t, however, let it be known Jeff and I had done the same thing, except we had been married over an Easter weekend. It was irrelevant, and Hawk’s hand was finally starting to loosen in mine. No need for a roadblock.

“How did you two meet?” The inquisitive writer in me always liked hearing those stories.

“Like this, actually.” Vanessa held Carter’s hand then. “They were on the road, and Lara was driving down to surprise Finn, and she needed a wing-girl for the ride.” She glanced across Carter to where Lara was sitting on Finn’s lap.

I saw Lara smile at the obvious remembrance and snuggle in even closer to Finn. They were so in love—even years into a marriage and two kids later. It was an awesome and inspiring sight to see.

“That night was kinda just like this.” I refocused on Vanessa’s dialogue. “We were unwinding with a little bit of alcohol and good music. It was perfect. Well, you know.” She looked from me to Hawk and then at our hands combined.

Admittedly, that was a little awkward. Sure, everyone knew we were seeing one another. But to be compared to a couple who were engaged and planning their wedding?

Luckily, the proverbial bell saved the day. My phone was chiming beside me. Even though it broke the awkwardness I’m sure only I felt, I was concerned about the late-night timing.

“Sorry,” I apologized, and Hawk finally let go of my hand so I could swipe at the phone.

When I saw the caller ID said Sophia’s name, I was even more concerned. My former sister-in-law was not normally a late-nighter. She was kind of infamous, in fact, for her kids staying up later than her.

“I’m sorry,” I said again to the collective group. “I should take this.” Hawk partially stood as I did but then sat back down as I walked off.

As I stepped into my trailer, ironically gaining some of the privacy I had written about earlier, I found out the sad and scary reason Sophia was making that call so late at night. Her father had been admitted to the hospital. He had a pulmonary embolism. It was serious, but he was in stable condition. She wanted me to know, since I would always be a part of their family—neither death nor miles apart would change that I had a loving home base with them. But I also knew she just needed to talk. Her husband had gone back home to be with the boys, and she had coaxed her mother into sleeping for a little bit at the hospital, where she still was. I lamented that I couldn’t be there for him, her, or any of them in person as we were states and states away. But she knew and understood. Besides, the preliminary outlook was, barring any setbacks, he should pull through and just needed to get blood thinners regulated and eat a different diet. I prayed with her and promised to keep talking as long as she needed me.

Somewhere in the middle of my conversation with Sophia, a text came in from Hawk. Everything OK?

His message helped calm me. It gave me a second to halt my conversation with a despairing Sophia and regroup. And it also made me realize that Hawk was connected enough to me to be concerned.

Jeff’s dad is in hospital -- pulmonary. I typed back. Sophia needs to talk. It’s gonna B late. Sorry. Because I was. I wanted to feel his hand secure but relaxed on mine.

He ignored my apology with another concerned query. He OK?

Hopefully…not out of woods yet.

Sorry.

Thx. Could U apologize 4 me please?

He ended with his Hawkism. U got it.

***

After the late night, I was able to sleep in a little the next day. We only had a couple hours commute to our next location stop. So we arrived mid-morning. I was busy looking up the posts on social media from the night before and reacting to the blog. And I called and talked with Sophia briefly, too.

And then I wanted to talk with Hawk. Although I would not change counseling my friend the night before, I was sad my time with Hawk had been cut short. I wanted to make sure we were simpatico. I had been thinking we were on the right track when Sophia’s call came through. But for sure, we needed a chance to talk.

Knowing he should have some free time before the late afternoon and evening hoopla of the latest concert, I texted him. Where R U?

The text response came nearly twenty minutes later, after I had found a solitary spot to just sit, stare at my phone, and wait it out. Just got to a gym.

When time and motivation allotted, some of the guys would find a local gym at the concert stop and work out. It was another one of those macho things. But I had seen the regular gym rats still lingering around camp. So I hadn’t considered that option.

Oh. I texted back. I didn’t know today was 1 of those days.

Last min.…just w/Finn, was his reply back.

Sorry to interrupt, I typed, wanting to let the two men do what they’d set out to do.

You’re not.

But I was. It wasn’t the time to have a conversation. Plus, I wanted to actually see him.

Have a good workout, I offered. Talk later.

It was a second or so longer wait than his other texts, but then his reply was, For sure.