One Hit Wonder (22 page)

Audrey loved the day after a gig, when John could stay home. Even he, a morning person almost to the point of annoyance, would succumb to her pleas and stay in bed for as long as she wanted. At two in the afternoon, they decided to have pancakes for lunch. Golden, fluffy discs sat piled up on a plate while John placed juice, fruit, and syrup on the table. He fixed their coffee, cream and sugar for him, and black for her. Then he ambled up behind Audrey and placed her cup on the counter beside the stove, his free hand circling her waist.

“Thank you.” She tipped her head back against his chest.

“You’re welcome.” He pulled her hair to the side and gently kissed her ear and her neck.

“This way I’m going to burn our breakfast.”

“I think we have enough anyway.” John glanced at the tall stack on the plate.

“You think so?”

“Unless the rest of the band is coming over.”

She turned off the stove, tilted the pan and dropped the last pancake on top of the stack. John sat at the table and she followed, bringing the plate and her coffee mug.

“I wanted to wait for you last night because I’ve been meaning to tell you something.” Audrey had tried to stay awake, but her feet and back ached from the long hours standing in the darkroom.

“Uh?” John forked a pancake and dropped it into his plate.

“I’d like to go with you to London, if you’d still take me.”

“Are you serious?”

“Uh-huh.” She gulped her coffee.

“Hell, yeah. That’s great.”

“Do you think I can still get into the same flight?”

“I think so. I’ll call Atlantis right away.” He stood up.

“No, John. It can wait. Have breakfast with me.” Audrey placed her hand on top of his.

A few minutes later, John’s cell rang from the bedroom.

“I should get it.” He said sheepishly.

“Okay, I’m finished anyway. Can’t eat anymore.” She pushed her cleaned plate away.

“It’s Tyler.” He shouted from the bedroom.

Audrey stood and topped her coffee. She met John in the living room, his face suddenly pale.

“We’ll be right there.” John hung up the phone. “Something is wrong with Kevin.”

When they arrived at the apartment complex, an ambulance, a fire truck, and two police cars were on the street. John didn’t bother parking the car properly and they ran to the apartment. The door was wide open. Matt and Tyler stood in the living room. Matt’s eyes were puffed and red and he had his arms crossed in front of him, and Tyler was pressing with his fingers on the bridge of his nose. Two police officers stood in front of them, one with a hand on Tyler’s shoulder.

For an instant, Audrey heard a deafening buzz in her ears and everything seemed to be in slow motion. John froze in front of her, staring at Matt and Tyler. Her steps sounded heavy on the carpet, running to the bedroom. When she reached the door, she saw Kevin lying on the bed. Someone grabbed her and blocked her from coming in.

“Get off me, he’s my friend.” She shouted at the police officer and with the strength she didn’t know she had, jerked herself out of his grasp and ran to the bed.

She touched Kevin’s face; his skin was cool and sticky. His blond hair spilled on the bed like a puddle of golden blood. His T-shirt was cut open, his still chest marked by the defibrillator the paramedic on the other side of the bed was stowing into a case

“Kevin? Kevin, wake up!” She shook his shoulder.

Audrey glanced up at the paramedic, but the woman looked down, avoiding her gaze.

“No.” She touched her face to his and sobbed.

Hands were pulling her again, but this time she recognized them. John helped her up and they hugged and cried for a long time.

• • •

There was a bite of cold in the air on the Thursday morning of Kevin’s funeral. He would’ve liked the scenery, she thought. Surrounded by fall’s golden trees, the cemetery had a bleak film noir feeling worthy of Hitchcock. For an instant, Kevin’s image flashed through her mind; him smoking a cigar, drinking whiskey, and watching
The Twilight Zone
in a cheap hotel room. The memory was as vivid as it had just happened yesterday, but their life had changed so much, it could have been another lifetime.

The tears rolled down thick on his mother’s face. She let out a deep sob every few minutes, gasping for air as if someone had covered her head with a plastic bag and tied it firmly around her neck. She had auburn hair and her skin was so pale, it seemed to have been bleached by sorrow. Kevin had taken after his father, who was lean and tall, but he had his mother’s eyes — piercing green with swatches of yellow, like orbs of jade.

Kevin had a big family; two married older sisters with five children between them and a younger brother. Many uncles, aunts, and cousins forming a thick wall of tears and grief stood behind his parents. Even the younger children seemed to sit uncharacteristically still, listening to the minister’s words.

John looked glum, shoulders curled toward his chest. He didn’t talk much, especially about Kevin. He was the one who made the call to Kevin’s parents, and now it was as if he had used up all the words.

“There has been an accident,” John had told Kevin’s father.

After what Audrey assumed was Kevin’s father asking if his son was okay, John said “He has passed … I’m so sorry.” John cupped his mouth and held the tears as he explained to Mr. Everhart what the police had told them earlier. “We found him in his bedroom, he wasn’t breathing. The police found lots of prescription medicine in his room. They think he accidentally overdosed.” He was crying when he continued telling Mr. Everhart that no one in the band suspected he was taking any medicine or even had seen him going to a doctor. He’d told him Kevin drank, but he didn’t say anything about his cocaine use or the incident in Ryan Correll’s house.

No matter what John said, the truth was that he felt responsible for Kevin’s death, the same way he felt responsible for everyone’s well-being. The nights before Audrey and John flew to the funeral in Illinois, she’d found him on the backyard’s bench smoking in the dark. She didn’t know how to comfort him, because she also felt as if she’d failed Kevin. So, they sat on the dark, close but not quite touching.

Bill and Jennifer released statements on the behalf of the band and Atlantis, respectively. Once again, gossip magazines and paparazzi had taken interest, and they wrote wildly about Kevin’s short Hollywood life. The models he dated, the parties he attended, even mentioned a falling-out with his famous friend Ryan Correll because of a mystery girl. The press alluded to suicide and drug abuse. Not long before Kevin’s death, two actors, a man and a woman about the same age as Kevin, had also died suddenly due to their exploitations with prescribed medication and, allegedly, illicit drugs. A national morning show brought in a psychiatrist to talk about the wave of young celebrities who perish under the pressures of their famous lives.

After the funeral, the family gathered in Kevin’s parents’ house. Audrey sat on the stairwell to the second floor, playing Uno with some of the children. She looked over the living room and John, Tyler and Matt were talking with Kevin’s father. Mrs. Everhart had gone upstairs to lay down, ushered by her daughters. John hung his head low, hands on the pockets of his suit pants. Mr. Everhart lifted his hand and placed on John’s shoulders, then embraced him.

The scene was like a movie, the prodigal son had returned home. Except John was repentant, but not his son. Mr. Everhart’s boy would never come back. Audrey’s eyes welled up, and the two little girls of distinct blond curls that were strangely familiar to her stared and waited for her to place a card on the pile. A wild card.

When the airplane touched the tarmac at LAX, Audrey let out a long breath. Nauseated and hot, she squeezed her thighs with her sweaty hands and prayed to heavens reaching the terminal wouldn’t take long. From the next seat, John reached for her hand and tightly braided his fingers on hers. They looked at each other, and he managed to give her a faint smile that brought solace with it. He looked vulnerable, his sunken eyes stunned by the rupture created by Kevin’s death. For her, that simple touch was a sign of a coma patient regaining consciousness.

They drove home in silence, Matt and Tyler followed in their car. Since the accident they hadn’t returned to their apartment. Jennifer had hired movers to take their stuff to the bungalow. Luckily, Matt and Tyler had rented their furniture, so the bungalow’s spare bedroom and garage had more than enough space for their personal belongings. Kevin’s clothes were donated to charity and everything else was sent to his parents. For once, Audrey felt thankful for Atlantis — and Jennifer — for taking care of all of it.

Bill had flown into town the same day to hold meetings with Atlantis’s executives about the band’s future. For the past months, they had been promoting their first album and performing. Unsure of their profitability, Atlantis hadn’t renewed their contract yet. John had told Audrey he hoped Atlantis would agree on renewing their contract with Kevin as their lead singer, since he hadn’t caused any more trouble. The concerts in London, which were supposed to determine their fate, had been canceled.

At home, Audrey sipped tea and the boys drank coffee. She still felt queasy from the trip and coffee was more than what her stomach could handle at that moment. A few hours later, Megan arrived, tender and respectfully quiet. Matt and Megan held each other for long minutes, and they looked sweet together. Underneath the foul mouth and the apparent detachment, Megan was a romantic who was swept away by Matt’s chivalry and kindness.

“May I come in?” Megan gently knocked on the door of Audrey’s bedroom.

“Of course. I’m only unpacking.”

“How are you?”

“I’m okay, I guess. It’s weird being back without Kevin.”

“I can imagine.”

“Where’s Matt?”

“He went for cigarettes with John and Tyler.”

“Um.” Audrey nodded absently while folding one of John’s T-shirts.

“So, what’s going to happen next?” Megan sat on the bed.

“I don’t know.”

“Do you think they’ll go on?”

“Atlantis demanded to have Kevin off the band for the second album.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I assume at one point they must have — at least — considered the possibility.”

“Matt won’t say it, but I feel he’ll do whatever John decides.”

“I have no idea what John will do. Music is his life, but he is shaken.”

The doorbell rang.

“John must’ve forgotten his key.” Audrey threw a pair of jeans on the bed and went to open the door.

“Oh, Bill,” Audrey said with a miffed air and walked to the kitchen where Megan was getting a bottle of water from the fridge.

“Hello Audrey.” Bill stepped in. “Are the boys home?”

“No.”

“Where are they?”

“Not sure.” She said without looking at him.

“Okay, I’ll wait.” Bill opened a button of his suit and plopped himself on the couch.

“Who is he?” Megan mouthed to Audrey when she walked into the kitchen.

Audrey whispered, “their manager.” Filling the coffee pot with water, she asked Megan, “Do you want some coffee?”

“I’d love some, thanks.” Bill hollered from his seat.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Audrey said.

Only then, Bill seemed to realize someone else was there. He turned his neck and saw Megan leaning against the counter while Audrey gathered the ingredients.

“Oh, hi there,” he said.

“Hi.” Megan waved faintly.

“I’m Bill … but I’m sure Audrey must have told you all about me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Audrey said.

“I want you to know I’ve never had anything against you — personally.” He got up and stopped on the threshold between living room and kitchen.

“Oh, how kind.” Against her facial muscles, Audrey curled up the corner of her lips.

“It’s not good business to split your energy between starting a new relationship and a new career.” He spoke matter-of-factly.

“And what makes you the expert — your stellar career or your sterling marriage?” Audrey regarded Bill with profound disdain. He closed his eyes and massaged the bridge of his nose.

Turning from the coffee maker to face him, she said, “You were just terrified to lose your control over John to me, but what you didn’t understand was that no one controls him. You’d know it if your head wasn’t stuck so far up your ass.” She slammed the coffee cups on the counter. Megan, looking like she was enjoying the show, sat at the table.

“I guess this isn’t a good time to make amends.” Bill wound his way back to the living room. As he slouched into the futon, the door opened and John, Matt, and Tyler walked in.

“Hey, guys.” Bill got to his feet.

“Hi, Bill,” Matt said. John and Tyler nodded.

“We need to talk.” Bill clasped his hands together.

John and Matt emptied grocery bags on the kitchen counter. Tyler had sat on the chair across from Bill and jammed his hands in his armpits.

“Is that fresh coffee?” Matt rubbed Megan’s shoulder.

“Yes, sir.” Audrey propped her elbows at the table and clasped her mug with her hands. John leaned over and kissed her, his lips lingering over hers for a long moment.

“I’d love some,” Bill said tentatively from the living room.

Audrey and Megan exchanged glances.

“I’ll fix you a cup,” Matt volunteered.

“Is everything okay?” John asked Audrey, still leaning over her.

“Splendid.”

Audrey turned to Megan. “Do you want to go for a walk?”

“Please don’t leave,” John said.

Audrey got up and took her cup to the sink. “I don’t think it’s our place — ”

“It’s fine. This won’t take long.” He gave her hand a light squeeze and walked to the living room.

“What’s up, Bill?” John said.

Matt handed Bill a cup of coffee.

“We’ve been through a terrible tragedy.” Bill glanced around the room. “Kevin will be deeply missed, but I’m sure he’d like us to continue — ”

“We’re done, Bill,” John said.

“What?” Bill’s eyes widened.

“That’s it. No more band.” Tyler spoke without lifting his gaze.