Feuds and Interludes (Rock ‘n’ Romance Legends #1)

Chapter 31

Thirty-One

S hane

Man, I wished Boone was with me. He helped me keep my cool, and right now, with the hospital staff as witnesses, I really needed to do just that.

“Dad, this is ridiculous. You need someone looking out for you. Vera Jean Collins is a high-maintenance harlot who?—”

“Mom, come on. Don’t speak badly about her. You don’t even know?—”

“So you’re going to take her side because you’re shacking up with her grandson? Is anyone in this family in their right mind?”

“Mom—”

“Christina, I’m going to ask you one last time. If you cannot show some respect for my fiancée and for me, then I want you to leave. You’re not helping this situation.”

“I’ve already had my lawyer draw up medical power of attorney paperwork and you need to sign it. This was a close call. I don’t want your health left to her the next time?—”

“Christina, I’m fine. It was indigestion, for the love of Christ?—”

“Mom, I want to speak to you outside.” I took her gently by the arm and led her out into the hallway, where I knew she’d be less likely to raise her voice.

“Shane, I know you and my father are close, but you have no idea?—”

“Mom, I have power of attorney for Pops. We took care of it a few years ago before he had his last surgery.”

I hadn’t seen my mother in person since that day four years ago, when Pops had to go in for a procedure to give him some peace from a back injury. Mom had thrown a fit a year prior to that, when he’d had to have an emergency triple bypass surgery and he hadn’t told her until the day before. She’d threatened to take over his medical decisions at that point, so Pops and I went to see his attorney and took care of the paperwork. We agreed we would tell her if any more health issues arose, but he’d been doing so well, I think we both forgot about it.

Mom meant well, but she hated not being a part of the decision-making process. She felt she knew best and thought Pops and I were too lackadaisical about his healthcare.

She had no idea what I’d done with my life, how much I’d accomplished, how robust my financial portfolio was, because I didn’t feel like she’d earned the right to be invited into my inner circle, not with the way she’d treated me since I was a teenager and decided the life path she’d chosen for me was not the one I wanted for myself.

But having to tell her to her face that her father had chosen her son over her, well…it was not sitting well.

“So you two just took it upon yourselves.”

“Mom, it’s not like that.”

“Then what’s it like? I lost my mama because the two of them didn’t have their shit together and were too busy partying to get her medical attention when she needed it. She had cancer, and they chose to let her die rather than take her in for treatment.”

“Pops did what she wished, Mom. She didn’t want to go through chemo and radiation. She wanted to go out on her own terms.”

“How do you know? You were a child!”

“And I’m a man now, and I’ve been taking care of Pops for the past fifteen years. He trusts me to make his decisions for him if the need arises. I’m sorry if that’s not how you want it. It’s up to you to decide whether you can accept it.”

Her lovely sepia face, that so resembled her mother’s, turned red in the cheeks and storm clouds passed before her eyes.“What did I ever do to make you treat me like this?”

I sighed and shook my head. “You refused to accept that you are not the only person in this family who knows what’s best. There is room for all opinions and experiences to coexist, and I hope someday you realize that.”

And I hoped it was soon, so that she didn’t lose her father before she made peace with him.

“I guess you got it all figured out, huh, rock star?”

“Mom.”

“Tell your grandfather when he’s ready to talk sense, I’m a phone call away.”

She slung her bag over her shoulder and walked out of the hospital, her fists clenched at her sides.

I let out a long breath and tried to focus on keeping the tears at bay. When I felt like I had control of my faculties, I went back into Pops’s room.

He took one look at my face and shook his head. “I’m sorry, son. Come here.”

He gave me a hug and kept a hold of my hand as I took the seat next to the bed.

“She loves you in her own way, son. She’s like her mum. Headstrong. She thinks if ye don’t agree with her, yer disrespecting her. I just hope she realizes what a wonderful son she has before it’s too late.”

I squeezed his hand and nodded. My phone buzzed, and I pulled it out.“It’s Boone. Would you like Vera Jean to come back?”

Pops’s smile fell, and he patted my hand.“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“What? Why? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know if it’s good for her, bein’ with a broken old man like me. She really panicked, son. She said…” He bowed his head and took a deep breath. “She said she couldn’t stand it if she lost me like she lost John.”

“Pops, man.” Vera Jean was a tough lady, true, but like Boone said, she’d experienced a lot of loss in her life. It had only been two years since John passed. I understood what Pops was saying, but he was my concern. “I think it’s her decision whether or not she wants to be with you. You’re not broken. Maybe scratched and dented, but you’ve got a lot of miles left in you.”

“I appreciate you saying that, I just dunno what’s the right thing to do.”

“How about?—”

“Hello, Mr. Duncan, I’m Dr. Abad, the cardiovascular specialist on call.”

“I’m Shane Butler, his grandson,” I said, shaking the doctor’s hand.

“Wonderful, I saw you’re his medical designee. I wanted to let you know, Mr. Duncan, that everything looks great. Your tests all came back normal, so whatever you’ve been doing to keep your heart healthy since your last surgery, keep it up. I would only caution you that if you use Viagra in the future, be careful that your blood pressure doesn’t drop too low. It’s likely that the light-headedness you experienced was due to a drop in blood pressure, especially if you’d?—”

“Thank you, Doctor. I’ll follow up with my cardiologist about the, eh, future use of the medication.”

My fucking jaw was on the floor. On one hand, go Pops. On the other? I did not need to know what he and the very classy Vera Jean Collins had been up to that required certain pharmaceuticals.

“Wonderful. We’ll get your release paperwork together in just a bit. I’m glad this was just a precautionary visit. Have a lovely day.”

The woman had her lips pressed together as she walked out the door, and I was grateful for her professionalism. As soon as she shut the door, I turned on Pops with raised eyebrow.

“Now, Shane?—”

“Let’s get you dressed, old man. We can talk about how much I don’t want to know when your ass isn’t hanging out of a hospital gown.”

“Very well,” he said. “Do you think… D’ye mind not mentioning this to Boone?”

“There’s no way in hell I’m talking to him about what you two were up to, and he sure as hell won’t want to hear it from you either.”

Pops nodded and shook his head. “It’s good to know I haven’t lost it,” he said, and then he cracked up as he got a load of my look of disbelief. “I’m just takin’ the piss.”

“Keep it up, old man, and you’ll be dealing with Mom.”

He patted my shoulder. “She loves you, son. Just give her time.”

It had been fifteen years, though. I’d given up hope that we’d ever see eye to eye.

Pops got dressed, I texted Boone we’d be out soon and to please order a Lyft, the nurse brought in his papers, and they pushed him out to the waiting room, where we found Boone and Vera Jean and our bags in a corner. She’d dozed off against his shoulder, and he gently nudged her awake. When she saw Pops, she stood shakily and walked over to him, uncertainty on her face.

Pops took her hand, brought it up to his lips and kissed it. “I’m fine, love. And you did the right thing.”

She let out a very un-Vera-Jean-like sob, bent over and wrapped her arms around him in his wheelchair, which the nurse had insisted on.

Boone gave me a sad smile. “Our Lyft will be here in two minutes.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, so grateful to see him. So thankful I hadn’t had to do this by myself. I couldn’t wait to get him home?—

Shit. Reality cascaded over me like an ice-cold shower, waking me up to my current situation. The festival performance was over. That meant my time playing house with Boone was as well. We’d agreed he’d stay with me until after the festival, but now, he was most likely going to be taking off with his band, and I’d be home stewing. I had to take care of my grandfather and deal with my mother. I had to figure out what I was going to do with the rest of my life.

My mom’s criticisms throughout the years echoed in my mind. I’d thought I had it all figured out, and my band quit on me. I’d stepped up for Pops, but when he’d needed me, I hadn’t been there. How the hell was I supposed to be there for Boone, for Pops, and deal with the fact that I was nursing some wounded pride of my own? Boone needed to focus on Stellar, on the next step of his career, and any talk of Butler Collins was only going to take his focus away from where it needed to be.

With a heavy heart, I followed our seventy-agers out the front doors of the ER with a tired Boone by my side but feeling miles away.

“We’ll get them settled at their house, and then?—”

“You can stay if you want,” I said. “I can Lyft home from there.”

I couldn’t make eye-contact with Boone, and thankfully our Lyft pulled up because there was no way we could continue this conversation. I had Pops sit in front and that put me in back next to Boone with Vera Jean on the far side. Boone’s phone was blowing up the whole ride back. His brow was furrowed as he punched responses in with his thumbs with a huff. I wanted to ask what it was all about, but it was none of my business. Not anymore.

We were quiet for the ride up to Laurel Canyon. When we arrived, Boone climbed out my side, gave me a funny look, and then rushed around to help Vera Jean while I tried to help Pops up the driveway. He kept swatting my hands away, proving that he really was fine, and so I followed the group with my chest so tight it was ready to burst.

Once inside the gorgeous mansion, Pops turned to me and told me they were fine, that he was okay, and we hugged.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” I said. “But if anything happens, you better call me.”

“I know the drill, son. Thank you, I’m sorry to take you away from your festival.”

Boone was speaking quietly to his Gran, and then he kissed her on the cheek. He walked up to me with an expectant look on his face.

“My car should be charged or we can Lyft.”

“It’s fine, I’ll just Lyft. You’ve probably got things to do here.”

Boone frowned at me, turned and gave his Gran one last smile, and then he took my hand and yanked me down the stairs to what I assumed was his room.

Or rooms, I should say. I’d sneered at the fact he lived with his grandmother once, that was true, but the bottom level of the house was no basement scenario.

A wall of windows offered a gorgeous view of the Los Angeles basin. There was twice as much music equipment as I had at my place strewn about. There was a room off to the side with a treadmill and gym equipment, a kitchenette, and off to the other side, there was a hall that I assumed led to his bedroom. It was a cavernous space. You couldn’t tell from the front of the house how much square footage the house actually took up.

“Look,” Boone said, dropping his bag on the floor and parking his hands on his hips. “I know we’re both tired, you had to deal with the double whammy of your grandfather in the hospital and your mother, but did you just try to dismiss me?”

I used to think he was a prick when he’d talk all prissy like this. I mistook his assertiveness for attitude. Right now, he was about to hand me my ass, and I wasn’t up to the challenge.

“Boone, I’m tired. You have things to take care of, so I’m going to get out of your hair.”

He bounced his knee and scowled at me. “Since when have I ever wanted you out of my hair? Shane Butler, don’t you dare push me away right now.”

Before I’d kissed him, he’d irritated me with his drama. After I’d kissed him, I thought it was cute. It was endearing. He was everything I’d ever wanted. Now? I knew I was being an asshole and I just didn’t have the spoons to take care with my words. I was a coward who couldn’t take the chance that Boone would figure out that I was full of shit. I needed to cut ties and go.

“Don’t think I don’t know your phone has been blowing up all day. You have Stellar to think about now.”

“But you said?—”

“Let’s not complicate things.”

He snapped his feet together, his spine stiffened, and his gorgeous blue eyes went round like deep pools of despair.

“I don’t… What did I do, Shane? I thought?—”

“I’m just trying to divest you of dead weight. Get some rest. We’ll talk later.”

And for my next trick, I attempted to get the fuck out of there and ended up walking into a bathroom.

“Fuck,” I said, and then found the stairs and took them two at a time as I heard something crash down below.

Thankfully no one was upstairs when I got to the foyer, and I was able to duck out the front door without any more theatrics. I took off at a jog with my bag slung over my shoulder, and then broke into a run. I was going downhill, which was a really fucking stupid thing to do, but it seemed that stupid was all I was capable of doing at the moment. I ran all the way down to Sunset Boulevard and puked when I got there.

And then I remembered telling Boone that running ’til I puked wasn’t good for me.

A horn blared next to me, and I tripped over my feet and fell on my ass, narrowly avoiding the puddle I’d made.

“Get in the fucking car.” Boone was there in Vera Jean’s Cadillac, looking more pissed than I’d ever seen him.

“Boone—”

“Get in the fucking car, Shane, or I’m going to make such a scene?—”

“All right,” I said, trying to climb to my feet on rubbery legs. I tossed my bag into the back and then climbed into the passenger seat.

“Here,” he said, handing me a box of tissues before he pulled away from the curb, which pissed off several drivers, who all flipped us off as they drove by. “You’re bleeding on your hand and your knee and you’ve got puke on your chin.”

I took the tissue and did my best to clean up. Boone took off toward my place, driving like an elderly woman. He sat so close to the steering wheel, I didn’t know how he’d managed to fit his legs under the dash. His seat was up perfectly straight and he hunched over, his gaze darting between his mirrors. He was even…

“You wear glasses?”

“Only for driving.”

The rest of the twenty-minute drive was quiet, the only sound coming from the blinker, which Boone used obsessively. With his glasses on, he looked younger than he was, and he was driving as if he were taking his behind-the-wheel exam. Then I remembered him saying he didn’t like to drive much. And yet he’d come after me.

I was such an idiot.

“Boone, I’m sorry.”

He glanced at me, and then he shook his head and went back to steering. He pulled up to my place and parked in the driveway, setting the brake but not turning off the car.

“If you meant all that shit you said, then get out of this car.”

“Boone—”

“If you were just talking out your ass because you’re afraid of what the fuck is going to happen, well, join the goddamned club.”

“Boone—”

“And if you ever say that bullshit about dead weight to me again?—”

“Babe, I’m sorry. I’m fucking spiraling, okay? Pops, my mom, and you’re leaving?—”

He shut off the car, got out, grabbed my bag from the backseat, and then waited for me at the front door.

Which was just enough time for my fucking tears to start up. I grabbed a few more tissues, got out of the car, and trudged my way up to the porch, where Boone was trying to get the keypad to work. I’d shown him how to use it, but he’d never had to in the short time he’d been there.

“Here.” I entered the code, opened the door, and waited for him to do something.

Without looking at me, he took a deep breath.“I suggest neither of us speak to each other until we’ve showered, eaten something, and slept for eight hours.”

“That’s fair,” I croaked. I held out my hand for him to go inside first.

He glanced at me, nodded, and then walked inside. He went straight upstairs to the bathroom, took the quickest shower I’d ever seen, and then he shoved me into the bathroom and shut the door. When I got out, he was down in the kitchen fixing us eggs, toast, and the last of the fruit we’d left before going to Rocktoberfest.

He slid a plate toward me as his phone rang. He’d already eaten, and he rinsed his plate in the sink as he answered the phone.

“Hey, boo. Yeah, we’re back at Shane’s. He’s fine, they’re both fine. Yeah, I talked to them. I’m going to meet with them and Dickie tomorrow. No, it’s okay. You guys enjoy the rest of the festival. I’ll have everything set when you get back. I love you, too. Fuck off.”

He hung up and slid his phone back in the pocket of his leggings.

“Annie?”

He nodded.

“You meeting with management tomorrow?”

He nodded again. “You were right. They want to build on the momentum of the festival. They sent me a tentative plan, I read through it while you were in the shower, and they’re pushing us to accept it.”

“What do they want?” I asked him, my voice hoarse.

He blew out a breath and seemed to lose steam. “They want to release the first single from the album next week and they jumped at the chance to get us on TV. They got us booked to go to New York for Saturday Night Live a week later. Then they have a plan for us to go to Europe for six weeks, we’ll be gone for the holidays, and that’s all followed by Australia, Japan, and then dates in the U.S.” He blinked his big blue eyes at me. “They’ve got us out until the end of February.”

He sounded tired just telling me all that.

“You’ll be back for the gala,” I offered. “You need to do this. Don’t worry about anything. I’ll help Vera Jean and Pops with the gala. We’ll handle it.”

A tear ran down his face and he blew out a breath.

“Part of me hoped the label would hate the new material.” He gave a humorless laugh. “I thought, if they hated it, we could just put it away and then you and I could… I don’t want to leave.” The last part was a whisper.

I went to his side and put my hand over his on the counter.