Drummer Girl (10 page)

She pushed Rake's fedora back on her forehead. Jo-Jo looked amused, Sonja a bit dazed, but Rake looked sad. Ten Pin sat down by Brad, pulling on a cola and shaking his head. Only Brad looked cautiously impressed. That was something, at least.

Rake said, “Honey, you know that rock noise doesn't belong in my club.”

Sid stood and laid the sticks on the stool. “Sorry, Rake. I got carried away.”

He sighed. “Head-aching, gut-twisting clamour.”

Sid had never heard Rake sound so discouraged. Puzzled, she walked to the piano and laid the fedora on its smooth brown surface. “I said I was sorry. I was just feeling the beat. Isn't that what you always tell me to do?”

“Sure, honey, sure. You got to feel it, but you also got to control the flow so you don't start flailing like a chicken with its head chopped off.” He pulled a handkerchief from the inside pocket of his plaid coat, wiped the hatband of the fedora, and set it on his white afro. “Jazz is fine, fine music. Playing jazz is like a woodcarver finishing a carving with tiny, precise cuts using his smallest knife. That –” He waved at the drums. “– was more like taking an axe to fell a tree. Ain't no finesse, just pound, pound, pound.”

Sid huffed out her breath. “A lot of skill goes into a drum solo, Rake.”

“Maybe so. But it sure gives me a headache.” The skin around his eyes drooped like a Saint Bernard dog's; he looked so old. Something in Sid's stomach squeezed. She kissed him on the forehead. “Thanks, anyway, for letting me play.”

As she stepped off the stage, Rake said, “You don't wait another two months to come back, you hear? You'll do better next time. I know it.”

Sid smiled. Rake couldn't hold unhappiness any more than splayed fingers could hold water. Brad took her hand and they walked out. It had clouded over and had cooled off. Goosebumps shivered up Sid's bare legs and arms. “What time is it?”

“Three.”

“Do you think we have time to go to my place so I can change?”

“Probably.” As they climbed in the Jeep, a few drops of rain splattered against the windshield. Sid scowled. “I hope it doesn't start raining at the shower. Aunt Kathy will have fits.”

“They'll move inside.”

“While Aunt Kathy has fits.”

Brad laughed and pulled out of the parking spot. He stalled at the first corner and gave her a rueful grin. “Haven't been driving stick shift for long.”

“You're way ahead of me. Dad's car is an automatic. When I get my licence I won't have a clue what to do with a standard.”

“Maybe I could teach you.”

“After you get a little better...?”

Brad's ears turned pink. “Right. So how do we get to your place?”

Sid gave directions and marvelled at how easy it was to talk to Brad. Almost like talking to Taylor, except she never wanted to kiss Taylor.

When they walked in her front door, she paused, wondering
what to suggest Brad do while he waited. He stepped in close behind her. “Wow. Our living room is never that clean.”

“Maybe because you actually live in it.”

“You don't?”

“Dad lives in his office. I hang out downstairs.” Sid brightened. “Do you want to see my kit?”

His brow wrinkled. “What kind of kit?”

“My drum kit.” She took his hand and led him to the basement. They paused at the bottom of the stairs. “Welcome to the drum pit, as Dad calls it.”

As Brad glanced around, Sid wondered what he saw. Odd pieces of mismatched furniture, a battered entertainment centre and bookcase that had been used as a cat's scratching post before they had brought it home, always intending to sand it down but never getting around to it. Even the drums showed their age. Sid had bought them second-hand and the only new piece in the kit was the floor tom, which her dad had splurged and bought for her last birthday.

Brad kicked his toe into the red shag carpet. “Nice rug.”

“Maybe thirty years ago.” She paused. “Oh. Sarcasm, right?”

Smirking and nodding, Brad walked toward the drums.

“Try them out,” Sid said.

“I'd rather listen to you. You're pretty good.” Brad veered toward the sofa and stretched out on it. He linked his fingers behind his head and smiled at her.

“If I don't go too fast. Sometimes I lose the beat when I try for speed. Rake's always telling me that I've got to slow down before I speed up.”

“Why do you want speed?”

“Haven't you heard any speed metal bands? Their drummers are awesome.”

“I don't think so. I don't know much metal past the big names like Metallica and Iron Maiden.” He nodded toward her. “Rush isn't metal, is it?”

Sid glanced down at her
t
-shirt. “No. But their drummer is one of the best. Definitely the most versatile. He even has a
dvd
out on doing a drum solo. I keep dropping hints to Dad that he should get it for my birthday but he hasn't been hearing much of anything these days.”

“Why?”

“He's stressed at work. Big promotion that has him working twice the hours. Brings work home. Usually he likes to unwind by cooking supper. Lately it's been, ‘Fend for yourself. There's pizza in the fridge or meat pies in the freezer. I just need to finish this one report.' Which'd be fine once in a while, but now it's every night.”

“Where's your mom?”

Sid had drifted to the sofa while she talked. Now she sat down by Brad's feet. “She took off when I was three.”

“That's lousy.”

Sid shrugged. “It was a long time ago.” She wasn't about to let it start bugging her now, even if Brad was giving her a sweet sad look.

After a moment Brad said, “My folks yell a lot. So do my grandparents. I think it's the Greek in them or something. Lots of arm waving, too. Once Mom even chucked an empty coffee cup at Dad. Which made them yell even louder, each one blaming the other for what she'd done. I always feel like crawling under the furniture when they start. Maybe that's why I like math.”

“Because it doesn't yell?” Sid spoke with a teasing lilt.

“Well, yes. It's quiet and logical and way easier to figure out than relationships.”

“I'm not good at math or relationships.”

“I don't know. You seem to get along with your brother.”

“That's Devin. He could make friends with a rabid pit bull. I really only hang with my buddy, Tay, and his friend, Narain. And lately Tay's not talking to me.”

“Why not?”

Sid frowned down at her bare legs. “He doesn't like my new look.”

“This is new? It's nice.”

Sid smiled. “And it's even better when you take your glasses off and it goes all blurry.”

“You really don't know you're pretty, do you?” Brad blushed, as if he hadn't meant to say it out loud.

“Am I?”

He nodded, ears bright red. “I can't figure why you're spending time with me.”

Sid wriggled her way up the sofa, making Brad ease onto his side to make room for her. She took off his glasses and set them on her
Drum
magazine on the end table. “You really don't know you're cute, do you?”

He shook his head. “Ask any girl in my school. I am the math geek.”

“Coo coo coo choo.”
Sid sang softly. Puzzlement curved his eyebrows and she said, “You need to sing that to the tune of ‘I am the Walrus.' You know, the old Beatles song?” She sang,
“I am the math geek. Coo coo coo choo.”

His hand cupped the back of her neck and eased her head down. Their lips brushed. They paused. Without his glasses on, Brad's eyes were the deep blue of a warm summer's day.
Hypnotic,
Sid thought as their lips touched again. She was suddenly glad he wore geeky glasses because most girls would never see past them to discover the intensity they hid.

Butterfly kisses changed to lingering ones. Somewhere along the way, Sid stretched out beside him and ditched the belt because it was digging into her side. They shifted again and Sid found herself on top of Brad. The kissing went from mild and teasing to deep. They were both breathing hard. Sid's bones were liquefying. Heat pooled everywhere they were touching and she expected them to burst into flames. She
wanted
to burst into flames. Cool fingers slid under her shirt, caressed her back as they skimmed upwards. Sid moaned.

They stopped kissing for a moment, noses touching and gazes linked as Brad fumbled with her bra fastener. She wanted to reach back and help but his eyes held her immobile.

“Sid!”

Her dad's voice jolted her. She flung herself to the side and landed in a lump on the floor. James stood at the bottom of the stairs. His face was pale and he almost looked like he was vibrating. In a clipped tone, he said, “I think it's time for your...friend...to leave.”

James spun and headed up the stairs, his footfalls thudding on each step, driving home the word,
leave.
Leave. Leave!

Brad sat up, ears so red they looked like they hurt. She crawled to the side, got his glasses and handed them to him. He muttered thanks and lurched off the sofa. He stumbled past the drums and paused, looking back as if he wanted to say something, but then he fled.

Sid just knew she'd never see him again. She pulled her knees to her chest and hung her head.

15 |
backbeat

Sid couldn't believe she could go from feeling so hot to so cold in a few heartbeats. She hadn't heard Brad leave but she could hear James crashing around in the kitchen. How embarrassing, having your dad catch you necking with a guy.

Heaving a long sigh, Sid got to her feet, almost tripping over her belt in the process. She strapped it on and climbed the stairs on wooden legs that didn't want to bend. As she pushed the door open, a crash shattered what was left of her nerves. She glimpsed shards of sunlight spraying across the room. When she entered the kitchen she saw the metal ring and plastic handle and plastic lid – all that was left of the glass coffee pot – on the floor. Her dad stood like a mannequin with head down and hand outstretched.

Sid closed the door and leaned against it as she tried to get her heart to stop racing. She exhaled slowly. “That's a drastic way to cut back on your caffeine intake.”

James flinched at the sound of her voice, snatched the bottle of antacid tablets from the little shelf that curved from the cupboard to the window frame. His hand shook as he opened it; pills sprayed across the counter. He plucked up two and popped them in his mouth, then stood with his back to the kitchen. His knuckles whitened as they wrapped over the edge of the counter.

Worry gripped Sid. She had done this to him. She got the broom and dustpan, swept up all the pieces of glass she could see and dumped them into the garbage can with a clatter. James didn't move through the whole process.

She leaned against the fridge and clutched the handle. “Dad, we were only kissing.”

James salvaged another two tablets from the counter, chewed them and said, “You were about to do more than that. I saw where his hands were.”

She sighed. “We weren't going to...”

“Don't, Sid. I don't want to hear your excuses.” He turned and crossed his arms. Shadows painted a crescent under each eye. “Have you ever kissed a guy like that before?”

She scowled, not liking where the conversation had suddenly turned, but knowing she had started it so needed to see it through. “No.”

“Then you have no idea how quickly things can get carried away. How easy it is to get caught up in the feeling and before you know it...”

She studied his socks as she felt his gaze boring into her. He couldn't think she'd –. They would've stopped. Wouldn't they? Needing to reassure herself, she whispered, “Have a little faith in me, Dad.”

His socks came closer. His hand peeled hers from the handle and he guided her to the kitchen table. “We need to talk, Sid.”

“You did the talk, Dad. Remember? The little book. You asked if I understood it all.”

“Not that talk.”

Sid was relieved. She got more than enough talks at school about safe sex and
std
s and any number of things she really didn't want to discuss with her father. Not after just getting caught kissing... Her stomach tightened at the thought of those kisses.
Where,
thought Sid,
had Brad learned to kiss like that?
Did she want to know?

James gently pushed her down into her usual chair and sat across from, instead of beside, her. Sid waited with hands in her lap, fingers linked so tightly that they ached. For once she didn't feel like tapping any kind of rhythm.

James cleared his throat. “I guess I should have expected something like this, especially since Heather's ‘fashion consultation'.” It's a hard change to get used to, Sid. I'm shocked, but I'm not going to lecture you.” Her shoulders loosened a fraction. He cleared his throat again. “What do you remember about your mom?”

Sid looked up sharply. “Nothing. I remember being mad and yelling for her, and Devin being really upset. I might remember the smell of vanilla. Was that her?”

James nodded.

“I don't want to talk about her, Dad. She didn't want to stick around. Period.” She didn't want it to start hurting.

“You need to know why.” He looked like he wanted to be anywhere but at this table about to talk about his failed marriage.

Sid felt the same way. “No, I don't. It doesn't change anything.”

“Hear me out. I can't tell this more than once. I was nineteen and your mom was seventeen when we met at a mutual friend's party. We both fell hard. Six weeks later she was pregnant and I was offering to do right by her, whatever she decided. Her parents pressured her into going through with the pregnancy and we got married when she was five months along. She didn't finish high school.”

Sid felt a heavy frown weighing down her eyebrows. “I get it. Don't play with fire.”

“Let me finish. Your mom was a bit down after Devin was born. Post-partum depression the doctor called it. She snapped out of it and things went along okay. It was tough getting my business degree, already having a family, but we managed. Your mom worked part-time in the evenings when I could look after Devin and study. Then she got pregnant with you and was sick for over half of it. When you were born, she fell into a deeper depression than she had with Devin. Her mother had to come live with us for almost a year.” James fell silent for a moment.

Sid had never met her mother's parents. They had disappeared as completely as she had. James had once mentioned something about their moving to Australia, but she hadn't asked about them and he hadn't offered any other information. Why should she care about people who cared so little for her?

James sighed. “She was never the same. No spark. Then one day, she just...walked out.”

Unexpected pain swelled behind Sid's eyes. “So you're saying it's my fault she left.”

“No!” James circled the table and crouched in front of her. “Don't ever think that, Sid. It wasn't you. She couldn't cope. She had been too young, or maybe she would have gotten depressed anyway. Whatever was wrong, it was inside her, somewhere deep where no one could help. She wouldn't let anyone help.”

Sid's jaw throbbed. She forced it to unlock. “Why didn't she get an abortion?”

James stood and pulled her to her feet. “Don't ever say that, Sid. You and Devin are the most important people in my life. What would I do without you two?”

Sid sniffed. “I don't know. Eat fewer antacid tablets?”

He laughed, clamped his hands on her shoulders and for a second almost looked like he was going to hug her. “I'll be eating them by the bucket-load if you keep seeing that boy.” Sid smiled since that seemed to be what James expected. For a second she wished he would hug her, like he used to when she was younger. She'd always felt protected from the world when his arms encircled her. He said, “Do me a favour?”

“What?”

“Have pity on your old man and take it slow. I'm not ready to think of my little girl...”

“Da-ad.” Sid stepped free of his hold. Assuming they were done, she started toward the hallway and paused by the light switch. “Are the other grandparents still in Australia?”

“Yes. So is your mother. I keep in touch with your grandparents, sending pictures every Christmas and birthday, letting them know what you kids are doing.”

“And
her?
”

“We still don't exist for her. Probably never will. It bothers her parents a lot. They'd like to know you better.”

“Why didn't you ever tell us, about the pictures and stuff?”

“Because you never asked, Sidney. You closed that door as firmly as she did.”