//7// I Wanna Come Apart

It was just after noon as I stepped out of Dilly Deli, carrying a to-go container with my favorite sandwich.  I was halfway to the truck when my phone started to buzz in my pocket.  For about ten seconds, I contemplated letting it go to voice mail.  After considering the idea, I conceded to answering, if for no other reason than to stop the blasted thing from ringing any more.  Balancing my drink on the Styrofoam container that held my food, I reached in to my pocket and glanced at the caller ID before answering.

“Hey Nat…what’s up?”

“Hi, Zac!”  Natalie’s voice greeted me; there was a bit of over-exaggerated excitement in her tone.  “I was just calling to check in on you.  How are you doing?”

I resumed my walk to the truck, cradling the phone between my ear and shoulder so that my drink and/or food did not tumble to the ground.  “I’m alright,” I managed to respond.   “Why?”

Nat was silent for a few moments on the other end before continuing, her voice carrying that motherly tone she was known for.  “Well, I talked to Kate and she said you had picked her up from the airport the other day, which was really nice of you, by the way.  Anyway, she said you seemed to be…distant.  Your mind was on other things.  She was worried about you.”

Groaning at what I had just heard, I managed to unlock the truck and climb in without spilling anything.  I settled myself before responding to Natalie, unsure how I felt about the fact that Kate was “worried” about me, and even more unsure of the way Natalie was fussing over me.  I appreciated the fact that someone was concerned with my well being; however the fact that it was my wife’s best friend was a bit unnerving to me.

“I’m fine,” I replied.  “Just have had a lot going on, you know,” It amazed me how easily the lie was starting to fall from my lips.

“Okay…” Natalie didn’t sound convinced, but didn’t press the issue either.  “So, on another topic entirely, Taylor said Ryland was coming in to town in a few weeks so we were planning on having a big dinner.  Kate will be there, so I can understand if you don’t want to come, but you’re invited…”

The wind was sucked from my lungs at the mention of Ryland, and I had to steady my breathing before I could even think.  Hopefully Natalie took my reaction to indicate my discomfort at dinner with Kate, not with Ryland.  I squeezed my eyes shut, shaking my head to clear the fog that had settled over my thoughts.  “Um, I’ll let you know,” I mumbled quickly.  “Hey, I have to go…gotta get to the studio you know.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, then:  “Zac?  Do you think…I mean, after everything, do you think…there’s any chance left for you and Kate?”  I was taken aback by the vulnerability in her voice; you’d have thought it was her on the other end of what I’ve done instead of her best friend-slash-sister-in-law.

“Natalie…” my voice trailed off.  I wanted to tell her yes, if Kate wanted to, we would find a way to work it out; I couldn’t.  I knew it wasn’t what I wanted and I didn’t want to give anyone any false hopes or expectations.  Somehow, despite how convicted I was in this decision, I still couldn’t say it out loud.  Saying it out loud made it real, and there was no going back at that point.  I swallowed around a lump that had formed in my throat, fidgeting against my seatbelt, which suddenly felt too tight against my chest.  Finally, I took a shaky breath and answered her question as truthfully as I was able to at that moment.  “I don’t know…but I don’t think so.  Not now, not after all this.”

Silence on her end again, though I thought I heard a sniffle.  “Ok,” she finally said.  “I might stop by the studio later with some dinner, so don’t go filling up on snacks,” and just like that, Natalie went from timidly asking about the fate of my wife and I to mother-mode.

“Nat?  Thanks for caring enough to check in on me.  No one else has.”

Natalie laughed lightly on the other end of the phone.  “What else do you expect me to do?  You’re essentially my little brother!” she exclaimed.  “Someone’s gotta keep you in line.”

**

Time at the studio always seemed to fly by when we were engrossed in a song.  Sometimes, hours would slip by without so much as a bathroom break, our hands on our instruments or fingers taking pen to paper.  Today, however, time seemed to drag on and on.  I kept looking at the clock that hung on the wall, hoping that somehow the minute hand would speed up and carry us farther along than we were.  I realized that, for once, music seemed like a burden and not a blessing.  I sighed heavily, lazily playing along.

Taylor kept shooting me glares over his shoulder during a practice run of “Give A Little” and I realized I was unintentionally speeding up and then slowing down the drum line.  After I sped up then slowed the second verse for the third time in a row, Taylor finally stopped, backing away from the piano and glaring at me.  His long arms crossed over his chest, his lips set in a firm line.

Feigning ignorance, I looked from him to Isaac, then back.  “…what?”

“’What’?”  He repeated, incredulously.  “Seriously, Zac?  You can’t keep a steady beat.”

“I’m not doing it on purpose.”  It was at least partly true; that last time had been on purpose, just because I couldn’t stand how indignant Taylor could get.

My brother dropped his arms to his sides and started walking toward the front office.  “I…I can’t,” he said in response to a questioning look from Isaac.

“Come on, Tay,” I called; he just kept walking.  I set my sticks down and got up from behind my kit, thinking it was as good a time as any for a break.  Hopefully, after fifteen minutes, Tay would have let the aggravation drain and we could get back to work.  I grabbed my zip-up and headed out the back door, to the alley, so I could smoke a cigarette in peace.

The burn of nicotine hit my lungs with a delicious fire.  Inhale.  Hold.  Exhale.  I closed my eyes as the smoke left me, leaning my head back against the brick of the building, trying to clear my head of everything.  In my semi-meditative state, I didn’t hear the back door to the studio open, or anyone step out.  As a matter of fact, I was blissfully unaware of the world around me until I heard someone clear their throat.

I opened one eye and looked toward the source of the sound.  Jess stood before me, arms crossed over her chest with an eyebrow raised.  “Zachary Walker, what do you think you are doing, mister?” she mock-scolded.

“Hey!” I smiled at her, taking one last drag off the cigarette before tossing it aside and wrapping Jess in a hug.   “What brings you to our neck of the woods?” I asked as I pulled away.

“You never called me Monday, so I figured I’d come down here.  It’s dinner time and I’m hungry—Mexicali?”

I considered her offer, knowing that my heart just wasn’t in to practicing right now, despite the fact that we left in just a few short weeks for yet another tour ‘round the country.  I nodded, and my sister and I walked down the alley to Brady, then across the street to Mexicali.

The wait was short, and we were seated at a table by the big windows facing the Brady/Main intersection within five minutes of leaving the alley.  I sat with my back toward the window, not wanting to be get distracted watching the door to the studio. I silently reviewed the menu, even though I knew exactly what I was going to get, while Jess listed off her end of semester grades and proudly announced her spot on the Dean’s List.  By the time we ordered our food, Jess had caught me up to her current situation and was staring at me expectantly.

“What?” I laughed nervously.

“Well, I’ve pretty much given you a play-by-play of the last three months and you haven’t said a peep or offered any information,” she sat back in her seat, still eyeing me.  “I just hoped you’d want to talk about stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?  I mean, nothing’s really been going on; just in the studio all day getting ready for tour and whatnot.”  I shrugged.  “Not a whole lot to say about it, really.”

Jess sighed, shaking her head.  “But how are you, Zac? How are things?”

The way she said ‘are’ and ‘things’ made my skin crawl.  I was sick of people walking on egg shells around me, though I knew most of the reason they did was my own fault, and I was sick of everyone just dwelling on my misfortunes.  “Like I told Natalie, I’m fine, Jess,” I said, shortly.  “Things are shit.  End of story,” I added quickly, before she had the opportunity to jump in.  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But—“

“No, Jess… I don’t care.  Whatever it is, whoever it is, I don’t care.  I can’t,” The last two words were barely above a whisper, and I was sure she hadn’t heard it.  Truthfully, I wasn’t sure I had wanted her to hear it, anyway.  I didn’t want to look vulnerable and weak; it would just provide her with valid points and arguments in some scheme to cheer me up.  The last thing I needed or wanted was to be cheered up; I deserved to suffer.

“Fine.” Jess pushed the ice around in her glass until our food was served a few minutes later.   Surprised at how easily she dropped the subject, I merely sat in the silence that had fallen between us.  We had both taken a few bites of our food before she spoke again.  “Ryland’s coming in to town.”

My stomach tightened and my breath hitched; I took another slow bite of my enchilada, chewing it longer than was necessary to buy myself some time.  I kept my eyes on my plate as I worked the tortilla between my teeth, and when I finally glanced up at my sister.  She was focused on her taco salad, almost as if she had merely commented on the weather.  Her nonchalance bothered me.  She knew, from both sides and in great detail, I was sure, everything that had gone on between Ryland and myself, and here she was, talking as if she was a favored relative coming for a visit.

“Did you hear me?” she asked suddenly.  I blinked, realizing she had started talking again.  I could only be honest, so I shook my head, returning my attention to my plate.  Jess sighed dramatically in only the way she could have and repeated herself.  “I said that she was going to stay with me at Mom and Dad’s, so…try not to just drop by.  Oh, and since you asked and so obviously care, she’s fine, by the way.”

I had to chuckle.  “You think I don’t care how she is?” I snapped.  It was Jess’s turn to be taken back by surprise; her fork paused above her salad.  She raised her eyes back to mine and I could only shoot an angry look at her before stuffing more of enchilada in to my mouth.

Silverware clinked against dish, and I cautiously looked up through my hair to see Jess sitting with her hands in her lap.  “Zac…you really should talk to someone about all this.”  Her voice was a whisper, but it carried across the table and through the noise of the restaurant nonetheless.  “I’m worried about you,” she continued when I rolled my eyes.  “If not someone of a professional nature, would you at least consider talking to me?  Ryland’s my best friend, but you’re my brother.  And I know there are a lot more things at stake here for you than for her, anyway, with Kate and the kids involved and I just…you can’t keep it all bottled up, Zac.  It’s only going to eat you alive.”

“Maybe that’s what I want,” I remarked, standing up.  “I’m finished; I’ll see you later.”  I tossed fifty dollars on to the table, knowing it would be plenty to cover both our meals and drinks, and leave a hefty tip.  I walked out of the restaurant before Jess could react and headed back over to the studio.  Instead of going in, I got on to my bike and started to ride.

 

 

 

 

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