Desperate Chances

“Just smart. At least you won’t feel pressured to make any sudden decisions. You have some time to really think things through.”


I nodded. “Yeah. I just keep thinking it might be time to grow up a little bit. Maybe get a real job.” Stability had a nice ring to it. Music was my dream. It always had been. But what was I left with when the dream was over? Do I keep chasing it?

Or do I find a new one?

“I’ve gotten an offer from a PR firm to work for them as a publicist,” Maysie stated.

I looked at her in surprise. “Oh wow. That’s awesome! I didn’t know you were looking for another job. What will we do without you there to put a foot up all our asses?” I moaned. I was joking, but I meant it. Maysie was the one that made sure we took care of ourselves and made it to shows on time. She was like a sister and a mother all rolled up into one. And she was damn easy to talk to. Jordan was a lucky guy.

“I guess you’ll have to put your own foot up your asses.” She frowned. “Wait. That doesn’t sound right.”

“And painful,” I laughed.

“I’m not sure if I’m going to take it. But I do know that I need something for me. I can’t follow Jordan around forever, no matter what he decides. And with things being so—well—up in the air for the band, I figured I needed to plan for the future. I can do a lot of the work from home or on the road as needed so it’s not like I have to uproot my life. Which is good considering Jordan and I would eventually like to start a family.”

“Haven’t even gotten down the aisle yet and you’re already talking babies?” I teased.

Maysie swatted my arm playfully. “Some of us want the white picket fence, Mitch.”

“That comes with the tatted and pierced husband? That doesn’t sound very Norman Rockwell.”

Maysie rolled her eyes. “Everyone’s happily ever after is different. I like the look of mine.”

Her words made me pause. “You know, if there’s no Generation Rejects, I’m not sure what else I could do. I never went to college like Jordan. I don’t have family money to fall back on like Garrett and I sure as hell don’t have Cole’s luck to always land on my feet. I’m good at playing music. That’s about it.”

Maysie patted my knee. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard you say. I know for a fact you’re good at a lot of stuff.”

I raised my eyebrows speculatively. “Oh really, like what?”

“Well, you make one hell of a Chicken Parmigiana,” she offered and I snapped my fingers.

“There you go! If rock star doesn’t pan out, I have a future as a one-cook wonder!”

Maysie clicked her tongue in exasperation. “Don’t be so down on yourself. I have no doubt that you’ll figure something out.”

“You sound like my mom,” I said, meaning it as a compliment. My mother was an eternal optimist. Maysie was a lot like her in that respect.

“Mrs. Abrams is a smart, smart lady. And her chocolate chip cookies are like crack,” Maysie retorted.

“That they are. I’m sure she’ll have some waiting for me when we get back to Bakersville,” I said, my voice trailing off. I shook my head and stared out across the courtyard. “Damn. We’re going back to Bakersville. This time next week we’ll be home. That’s kind of weird.”

Maysie cocked her head to the side looking thoughtful. “Weird? Why is that?”

“I’m just not the same guy who left all those years ago to become a rock star,” I muttered.

Maysie put her arm around my shoulder and leaned into me. “None of you are. But it’s not like you haven’t been back. This isn’t any different.”

I looked over at Jordan’s fiancé and grimaced. “It’s different this time and you know it.”

Maysie looked confused.

“Because it could be for good,” I explained.

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