Anna was near silent on the plane. Holding Onnika in her lap, she stared out the windows like the endless sea of clouds was some all-encompassing book that she couldn’t put down.
I told her that my parents were picking us up from the airport, but all I got was a nod in response. Even the flight attendant didn’t get a verbal answer when she asked Anna if she needed anything. Just a shake of her head while she stared out the window. Whatever funk she’d slipped into, it was so unlike her. It scared me some that she wasn’t snapping out of this. I missed my spunky, carefree wife who didn’t bat an eye at all my outlandish antics. Her ability to accept all my craziness was one of the main reasons we worked so well. If she lost that ability now, I wasn’t sure what that might mean for us. God, I hoped my old Anna returned soon. I needed someone to bounce my excitement off of. I needed her to be stoked about this.
When the plane touched down in L.A., I was rearing to go. I was tired of this tiny, cramped cabin. Tired of my tiny, cramped life. I wanted to explode out into the world. See my name forty feet high. See the crowds losing their shit at just a glimpse of me. See the judgey critics speechless, because my awesomeness was impossible to portray in mere words. As the world was soon to find out, nothing in the English language could properly summarize me. I was ready for the solo spotlight. I’d been ready my entire life.
While I watched luggage landing on the rotating belt, I wondered if I could still call myself a D-Bag. I’d been one for so long, it was odd to think of myself as anything else. But Denny was disavowing me, so technically…I was an ex-D-Bag. That thought darkened my mood a bit; it wasn’t all that long ago when the band had been everything to me. But they hadn’t felt the same, obviously, and now I was a reformed D-Bag. Nah, I’ll always be a douche.
My inner joke perked my mood back up, and a laugh escaped me. Anna flashed a glance my way; the lingering sadness in her eyes momentarily shifted to prickly anger. Even though I was happy to see any sort of mood change from her, I had to know what had sparked it. “What?” Thinking maybe she wasn’t happy about our temporary arrangement, I told her, “Are you ticked we’re staying with my parents? It’s temporary, babe. Soon as we’re settled, we’ll start looking for a place. Promise.”
She looked away, and the brief spark of angry life left her. Damn it. I really had no idea how to deal with sullen women; I had zero experience. If a chick turned moody, I checked out. But I didn’t want to do that with Anna. She was my dream girl.
Once we had our bags, we met my dad outside. He looked haggard when we all piled into the minivan. “Something up, Pops?” I asked.
With a glance at me, he sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “Let’s just say, the house is kind of…busy right now. This may be the most peace and quiet I’ve had in a while. God, I’ve missed being able to hear myself think.”
I looked around the crowded airport, cars coming and going, people shouting, hustling, and scrambling to get somewhere else. This was peaceful? Anna sighed after Dad’s statement. Tossing my arm around her shoulder, I gave her as encouraging a statement as I could. “It’s my family…how bad could it possibly be?”
Her blank expression clearly told me just how epically awful she was sure it was going to be. It also said that if I ever wanted to get laid again, I should start looking for a place as soon as possible. I started scrolling through the classifieds in the van.
As the airport became indiscernible in the rearview mirror, I thought over the complete and total lack of a fan freak-out there. No one had asked for an autograph, no one had screamed, no one had bitched about me leaving the band. No one had even recognized me. What the hell? Wondering if my parents had heard the news about the band, I asked Dad, “So…did you see me on Live with Johnny?” That puffed-up cocksucker.
Dad frowned. “No…I must have missed it. What night were you on?”
I rolled my eyes. Typical. Unless I gave them about ten reminders, my parents missed everything I did. Except making children. They flocked to grandkids like flies to a shitpile. “Well, you missed a good one. I quit the band.”
Dad snapped his gaze to me; he jerked the wheel along with his head, almost colliding us with a taxi. Maybe I should have driven. “Why the hell would you quit the band?” He gaped at me like I’d just told him I was having a sex change.