Page 76 of Combust (Everyday Heroes 2)
“Would anything surprise you at this point?”
“No.”
“He had some time with Kai in the studio. He wanted to work on some tracks and there was a bit of a tantrum and some storming out.”
Fuck.
I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh audibly. “So what are you telling me?”
“Kai and Callum want you present at the next scheduled studio time.”
“When?” She can hear my anger, but she knows it’s not directed at her.
“I don’t know but I’ll get an answer and let you know.”
“Gee. Thanks.”
“I know, Dylan. I know.”
I end the call, toss my cell on the counter, and then stare at the card for a minute before tearing it open.
I miss you.
Do you miss me yet?
Come back home and let’s start over.
I love you.
—Jett
I look at the roses over the top of the card and shake my head. He‘s clueless. And to further prove the fact, he sent me roses. How, after being together for two years, does he not know I hate roses?
When I look at them again, all I see is the last gift my dad gave me on my tenth birthday. I remember the empty words and watching his back as he retreated down the steps through my tear-blurred vision.
As if on cue, the scanner goes off, reinforcing the tinged memories of my dad and the feeling of abandonment.
After dropping the card into the trash, I pick up the bouquet and head to the front door. I may as well take them to the sweet widow who lives a few houses down. I’d rather them brighten her day than let them go to waste.
It’s like scoring the perfect Michael Kors bag on sale.
At least that’s the best way to describe the feeling when I complete a song and know it has the it factor that will make it a hit.
When I walk out of my room, Petunia is staring at me as if she isn’t too impressed with the cheer I sent up when I saved the finalized lyrics on my Mac.
Now I feel restless. Like I need to go celebrate but have nowhere to go. Add to that, when I look at the clock, I realize that it’s only seven thirty in the morning. I awoke with a start at five o’clock, the lyrics I’ve been struggling with suddenly coming to me, demanding I write them down. Since Grady was on shift, I got up and decided to have a go at them.
I don’t care how early it is, though, I want to commemorate this small victory. Going to a bar before breakfast and ordering a celebratory drink isn’t exactly something most would approve of. I grin, picturing Petunia and me sitting at a high-top table together, and shake my head. Pigs probably aren’t allowed in bars.
Meaning the four-legged kind at least.
I have thirty minutes before Grady is off shift. Maybe I’ll drive into town and see if he wants to meet up for Bertha’s pancakes to celebrate. Syrup may not be wine, but at least it’s something.
Once cleaned up and with a quick dash of makeup on, I text Grady.
Me: Heading to Mama Bertha’s to celebrate with pancakes. Want to meet me there after your shift?
