“I’m glad you didn’t because I probably would have eaten my sad-single-dad sandwich by then. I’ve got an idea, but you might not be up for it.”
“What is it?” she asked, leaning up against the counter. Her heartbeat pinged wildly around in her chest, which it had started doing quite a bit anytime Josh was near. The tension that had been building felt like a drug that Layla wanted a bigger hit of every time she and Josh got together.
“I didn’t have a chance to walk Norton yet and since it’s not brutally cold—‘brutally’ being a relative term—I thought we could take him for a walk.”
“I’d be up for a walk,” she said. She looked at the timer on the stove. “We’ve got twenty-eight minutes until I need to check it.”
“Norton can poop way faster than that.”
Layla laughed. “Yes, I know.”
* * *
The late January air was bitingly cold but no, not brutal, not to Layla anyway and obviously not to Josh. They were seasoned Minnesotans used to spending time outdoors in temperatures that others would find uncomfortable. The sidewalks were mostly clear of snow, but what was left didn’t seem to bother Norton’s paws. She liked being outside and had often taken walks in the winter, but it wasn’t the same when there was no longer anyone waiting at home to talk to when you came in, ready for human interaction again. Now, going on a walk just felt like more of the solitude she already had an abundance of at home. She had forgotten how much a person could thrive when they balanced their alone time with quality companionship, especially if it was someone who seemed caring and not so self-centered. You could enjoy it without regard for rules or timelines or anything other than the natural organic feeling of spending time with someone who genuinely wanted to be there with you. No agenda, no ulterior motives.
“How long were you in the band?” Josh asked.
“About three years, give or take. We had a good run, but in the end, we came up short on what we needed to take it to the next level.”
“So, you decided to stop playing and become a music teacher?”
“No, I gave it up to become a music teacher.” She realized a split second too late that she sounded every bit as angry as she had felt when Liam urged her to take the job. But she’d just discovered the state of their finances and there was no way she could continue chasing some pipe dream. Besides, the band had reached the end of the line. She’d tried her hardest and she’d failed, and she probably wouldn’t ever get a shot at it again.
* * *
“You need to think about cutting a demo,” Scotty said.
Layla’s disappointment about what had happened with the scout from Minneapolis ran deep, but there was more than one way to achieve their goals and making a demo would mean she’d never have to tell the band that she’d considered throwing them under the bus and going on without them.
Lately, she had gotten the feeling that they were starting to be eclipsed by other local bands who had stronger original material. Storm Warning had grown stale, and it was hard to stay on top when there was someone hungrier, someone willing to work even harder, nipping at your heels. Being the underdog who succeeds was ten times more satisfying than being the top dogs fighting to hold on to their spot. One was exhilarating and hopeful; the other, agonizing and stressful.
A demo was necessary.
A demo would only do good things for them.
But a demo meant paying for studio time, and since anything they earned went right back to the band members so they could afford to eat, a demo would require a cash investment, in equal amounts, from all of them. They took a vote and it was unanimous.
“The timing couldn’t be better,” Scotty said. Connie’s, which had been their bread and butter for so long, was currently closed due to a fire that had smoldered in the kitchen after hours. A passerby out for an early-morning walk called the fire department, which put out the blaze quickly but left the establishment with significant water damage. They’d be closed for at least a month, but that also meant that Storm Warning wouldn’t be playing there for a while, which would cut into everyone’s income. The band hadn’t exactly endeared themselves to other bars in the area, preferring to keep their cozy gig at Connie’s instead of branching out to play other venues. They’d have to scramble for bookings, so maybe using the downtime to record a demo was exactly what they needed.
That night, Layla told Liam about the demo while they were eating dinner. She felt a little weird about it, because it was the first time she really thought about the fact that she’d willingly given up all financial control to him, and that she was clueless about the state of their finances. She rarely spent money on herself and she deposited every penny she earned into their joint bank account. The band needed a little more time to make something happen, and Liam was generous to a fault. Certainly, he would understand. It wasn’t like she was asking for money to go shopping. This would be an investment in her future.
Liam set down his fork when she told him about the demo and about the band pitching in. He took a drink of water and fiddled with his napkin. “Ordinarily I would have no problem with that at all. We’re just a little short on cash right now and there’s a credit card balance I need to take care of first.” Liam had recently switched jobs. He had moved from pharmaceuticals to medical devices, but there had been a lag between starting the new job and receiving his first commission check. It was fine, he’d told her. Nothing to worry about, so she didn’t.
“We don’t have five hundred dollars?” she asked. That was all she’d asked for and it seemed like someone who earned as much as Liam should have more than that in the bank. It was her account, too, though, and shouldn’t she know how much was in it? “I didn’t know we were carrying a balance on our credit card.”
Liam pinched the bridge of his nose like she was making this so hard on him with her incessant questions. “We have plenty. I said you didn’t need to worry about it.”
“I do have to worry about it,” Layla said. “We’re married.”
“What I meant was, I’ll take care of it,” Liam said.
But Layla couldn’t help with a demo because making a demo took money and they didn’t have it to spare. She applied for a job with the school district, and when they offered it to her, she didn’t hesitate before accepting. She also put up an ad so she could start giving music lessons again, and it didn’t take long before she had a full roster of kids that she taught how to play guitar three nights a week.
She did all of this because when Liam finally handed over the credit card statement and she saw the total, it appeared they owed Visa the staggering sum of forty-two thousand dollars.