“It's okay, man, I understand. No, it's fine. I get it.” Emmett leaned forward on the single kitchen chair, head supported in his hand, listening to his older brother, Michael. “Yeah, later, sure. No problem. See ya later.”
He hung up and sat for a minute glumly, looking around the dingy room. The phone rang. He picked up and heard Clarissa on the other end. “I know,” he said, and after a moment repeated more forcefully, “I know, I hear you. I get it!” He hung up hard, then buried his head in both hands.
The tour had been over for a couple of months, a distant dream by now. After arriving back on the east coast, the band had played a successful week-long gig in NYC that attracted industry scouts and universal rave reviews. Since then, they'd played some sporadic gigs in Philly, and Emmett had joined Luke to sit in with a few friends and local bands. But the rest of his life was a disaster.
The phone rang again. This time it was Luke.
“Hey Em, you wanna check out the Bijou tonight? Eddie's doing some shows there, he wants us to join him.”
“I'd love to, man, but I really can't.” Emmett sighed. “Next weekend for sure, okay? Tell him I said hi.”
“How come? What's up with you?”
“It's just not a good night, Luke, sorry. You know I want to.”
“You ain't workin' tomorrow, right? You quit your job.”
“Yeah, I quit. It's not that.” Emmett stopped, reminding himself for the hundredth time that Luke was a work buddy, not a real friend. He didn't want to hear all the details of Emmett's chaotic personal life.
“So what's the deal? Is it because of – ” Luke broke off as though an idea had suddenly occurred to him. “Is it money?”
“Naw, man, it’s not money.” For some reason Emmett heard himself continue talking this time. “I’m supposed to have the boys over tomorrow but Clarissa won't let them stay until I have beds for them…which I have, but I don't want to set up the furniture till I get the place painted, and my brother was supposed to help me paint this weekend but now he can't so…”
He trailed off, and in the silence he heard Luke catch his breath. “Wait, did you and Clarissa…split up?”
“Oh yeah, didn't I tell you?” Emmett had forgotten how far behind Luke was. “She left me when I quit work. Well, technically she made me leave, since she's got the boys.”
“What's your new address?” Luke asked, almost sharply. When Emmett gave it to him, he said simply, “I'll be right there.”
Emmett heard the dial tone and looked down at the receiver, then shrugged and hung up. Was Luke going to come over and check up on him? He was fine, just frustrated and a bit overwhelmed. Or maybe Luke wanted all the news about the break-up. Anyway, he might as well start work on the apartment. It was going to be a big job without Michael's help, but he couldn't put it off if he wanted to see the boys. He hadn't settled on a paint colour yet but there was primer and a brush somewhere; he guessed he could start with that.
Half an hour later the doorbell rang. When Emmett opened the door, Luke stood outside with a twelve-pack and two pizza boxes.
“Jerry gave me a ride,” he announced, stepping inside. “Cute threads.” He pointed at Emmett's work coveralls, then looked around the small apartment curiously. “Looks like a nice pad, how much you payin'?”
Emmett told him and followed him into the kitchen, where Luke set down the pizza and looked around for a bottle opener.
“I guess you're still sortin' the furniture situation,” Luke laughed, eyeing the single kitchen chair and mattress on the living room floor.
Emmett handed him an opener. “I have a bunch of stuff coming, my family’s got me covered. But I wanted to get the painting done first. We can sit outside to eat.”
The apartment was on the first floor of an old rowhouse in Kingsessing. They took the pizza and beer and sat on the back steps in the fall breeze.
“This is nice,” Luke said approvingly. “Remember that heat in, like, Raleigh?”
Already the tour was a nostalgic memory. “Yeah. Who knew we'd miss Philadelphia weather.”
“Now tell me what's goin' on. So Clarissa didn't want you to quit your day job?”
“Nope, she didn't like that at all. I tried to keep it but there was no way they were going to let me have another week off for that run in New York so…”
“Yeah, you told me you were quitting but I didn't know it ended up like this. I'm so sorry, man.” Luke threw an arm around Emmett and hugged him suddenly. “I know it's not what you wanted.”
“Maybe it always would've happened eventually.” Emmett lifted a shoulder. “The hard part is the boys, but as long as I have a place for them and keep up the payments, I'll still be able to see them.”
“Yeah, so what's the plan? We're just gonna do the bedroom for now and then the rest of the place later?”
Emmett frowned at him, puzzled. “Uh…well Michael and I were gonna…”
“Michael's your brother? But he can't make it, right?”
“Yeah, something came up for this weekend.”
“And you're supposed to get the kids tomorrow, so we gotta get the bedroom done first.” Luke finished off his beer and got to his feet, reaching for the back door.
“Luke.” Emmett followed him inside. “It's okay. I can do it.”
“Sure but it'll be faster with two of us.”
“Eddie's expecting you at the Bijou.”
“I already told him I can't make it tonight.” Luke stood in the bedroom doorway, surveying the scene. “So you started the priming already. Got a colour picked out?”
“I don't know…I was just thinking white…”
“Maybe yellow for the kids' room. You can use some kinda off-white for the rest.” Luke punched Emmett's arm playfully. “Me and Eddie worked as painters for one summer…I painted so many rooms, I'm an expert on colour wheels. You got supplies?” He looked around the small apartment again.
“Michael was going to pick everything up on his way over.”
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Luke shrugged. “I'll run to the hardware store for paint and supplies, I know one around the corner. You keep going on the priming. I'll be back in half an hour.”
Then he was gone, and Emmett slowly put the leftover pizza and beer in the fridge. He went back to the bedroom, hardly believing he'd see Luke again that day.
But sure enough, Luke was back before the half-hour was up with a gallon of yellow paint, rollers, trays, brushes, tape and turpentine. They finished the priming, took a pizza and beer break while it dried, and got the first coat of good paint on just before midnight.
Luke stood back to admire their work while Emmett closed the paint cans and washed the brushes.
“It just needs one more coat tomorrow,” Luke said, coming into the kitchen behind him. “If we start early enough, the paint can dry and we'll still have time to set up the furniture before the kids get here. Where did you say the beds are?”
“Michael's storing everything for me. I can borrow his pickup to move things when I'm ready.”
“Cool, it's all gonna work out. But listen, Em – ” Luke turned to him with a slightly abashed grin. “You mind if I stay here tonight? I ain't got a ride and who knows when I'll get back tomorrow if I have to take the SEPTA. I can just crash on the floor if it's okay with you.”
“Well – sure. If you don't mind.”
“Naw. Let's get to bed soon though so we can start early tomorrow.”
They went over to the living room together and considered Emmett's makeshift bed. “You got any extra blankets or somethin’?” Luke asked.
The extra bedding was in storage with the beds. When Luke shrugged and began tossing down jackets to soften the floor, Emmett put a hand on his shoulder. “That's crazy. The mattress is a double, there's room for both of us.”
Luke gave him a slightly questioning look before picking up the clothes. “If you say so.”
Emmett straightened the blankets on the mattress, then went to brush his teeth and change into the pajama bottoms Clarissa had bought him last Christmas, which led to fresh amusement from Luke.
“You really are a dad,” he said.
“What's wrong with that?” Emmett asked with dignity, sliding under the covers on the bed.
“Nothin’, man. But I ain't got any jammies,” Luke said, mock apologetically. “Guess I'll just sleep in my jeans.”
“Those are covered in wet paint, you're not getting in my sheets like that. Take them off.” Emmett moved over to the far side of the mattress to make room.
He watched as Luke undressed and slipped under the blankets beside him, wearing his briefs and an undershirt. Then Luke leaned over to give him a peck on the cheek, half joking. “Night, Em.”
“Night, El.”
Luke seemed to fall asleep quickly, curled on his side away from Emmett. The mattress wasn't big enough for them to sleep without touching each other, and Emmett brushed against Luke's back as he shifted positions. He remembered those long nights on the bus with Luke tucked beside him in the dark. For a while now, those days had seemed so far away that Emmett half-thought he'd dreamed them. But all the memories rushed back with this faint touch and Luke's quiet breathing beside him. Emmett turned onto his side, threw an arm over Luke's back, and shut his eyes.
Luke wasn't making a pass with that little kiss, he reflected; he knew when boys were making passes. It was more of a reassuring gesture, like Luke wanted to tell him that things would be all right. And in a funny way he thought now they might be.
***
In the morning Emmett pulled his coveralls back on and went into the kitchen to make coffee, eggs and toast. By the time everything was ready Luke had joined him, and they sat outside again to eat and chat sleepily in the cool morning air. Then it was back to work, tarps and rollers and Emmett covering the top of the walls and the ceiling, Luke taking care of the bottom half and details around the trim. Luke painted carefully but with enthusiasm. By early afternoon they were finished, and Emmett called Michael to make arrangements for picking up the furniture.
Emmett was less surprised, this time, that Luke stuck around for the rest of the day: the trip to Michael's garage, the loading, the drive back, the unloading and setting up. He even believed Luke when they made plans for working on the rest of the apartment in a couple of days, after the kids went home.
When everything had been set up and the beds were made, a couple of hours before the kids were due, Emmett and Luke finished off the last of the pizza and beer.
“Hey, you gonna run Michael's truck back now?” Luke asked, getting up. “You mind dropping me off on your way? Maybe I can get to the Bijou tonight.”
“Sure. Tell Eddie I'm really sorry to miss him this week, but next time for sure.”
In the truck, as Luke guided Emmett to his apartment, the talk turned back to the band. “We got so much good hype out of that tour,” Luke said.
“And that run in New York, where all the execs showed up…”
“Yeah for sure, but that was industry. The tour got folks talkin' about us, regular folks. Jerry says he's getting calls from all over the country now.”
“How’s the album selling?”
“Well, that’s another story. Good buzz don’t always translate to sales. But everyone wants us to go play for them.”
Emmett glanced over with a smile. “What, are you thinking about another tour already?”
“For sure we are.” Luke was serious. “Maybe later this year, likely early next year. Bigger this time – we wanna go right across the country.”
“I don't know if I should be excited or scared.”
“It'll be better this time – I swear we're gettin' air-conditioned hotel rooms!”
As they passed Franklin Square on their way to Kensington, Luke turned toward Emmett excitedly. “Hey, I forgot to tell you. We're gonna start work on the new record next month. The label booked me into Forge – you know that place? It's out in North Hills, great studio, state of the art. I been really wanting to work there.”
“That's great news.”
Luke looked at him. “Of course I need you to play on it too – you will, right?”
“Sure. I mean, what else do I have to do?”
“Since you quit your job, you mean.”
“Yeah. I'm at your disposal.” Emmett shot him a quick glance. “Listen, man, I really appreciate you helping me out these last couple of days. It means a lot to me.”
“Least I could do.” Luke had turned serious again. “Considering everything you lost ’cause of me. I ain't ever gonna forget that. I'm all yours, Em.”
Emmett nodded as they pulled up in front of Luke's apartment. “I think it'll be all right.”
“See ya in a few days.” Luke leaned over to throw his arms around Emmett's neck. “Maybe we can go jam somewhere after we finish painting, whaddaya think?”
“Can't wait.”
Heading towards Michael's house in West Philly, Emmett thought again about the choices he'd made, and his gathering hope that the worst might be over. His situation seemed better today than it had yesterday morning. But he still remembered the half-disdainful, half-sorrowful look on Clarissa's face as he'd left their house, his helpless attempts to explain what was going on to the boys, the disappointment in his mama's voice when he'd told her what happened.
His mama had always been so proud of him. She loved to talk about him to her friends, her neighbours, the church ladies. He thought of the black and white photos framed in her parlour – Emmett at his graduation, at his wedding, with his family; solid, dependable, bespectacled, respectable. What would she tell people now?
Emmett had known for a while that he didn't completely share his mama's views on life. His parents had fought tooth and nail for a middle-class life, one they could pass on to their children. They were fully convinced that their own recipe – education, family, respectability – was the one sure path to success, happiness, and acceptance. But Emmett had grown up in different times, and he'd seen what was going on in the world. Young men who looked a lot like him sat at lunch counters or rode Greyhound buses and no matter how well they dressed, how educated they were, how often they went to church, there were some people in America who were never going to accept them.
Emmett had tried not to argue with his parents; he'd done his best to live up to expectations, but he'd always had something – wrestling first, and then music – to keep half a foot out of the door of his mama's world. Now he'd stepped fully outside and the door was shut behind him. He'd just have to find some new way to make his mama proud of him again.
It wasn't like he wanted to leave Clarissa behind. He would have willingly brought her along for the ride. Maybe the two of them didn't have so much to say to each other; maybe they didn't really even know each other that well; they'd been so young when they’d first made their bargain. But he wouldn't have abandoned her. He wouldn't abandon her now either; she was a good girl, and the mother of his boys. He'd take care of her.
And the boys. Well, he'd just have to make space for them on his journey. At least now they had a place to sleep and a room of their own at his place. He'd be seeing them soon.
Thanks to Luke.
Was it some kind of guilt that had made Luke drop everything and come over to help him out? It's not like they were friends outside of the band, was it? They worked together, and of course there were those times when they met up and looked for local groups to play with. It occurred to Emmett that he'd never been paid for any of those sessions, and had never expected to be. That wasn't work, it was just something they did because they both loved to play, and meet other musicians, and, well, hang out. Like friends.
Emmett thought about the little kiss the night before. He remembered the feel of Luke's arms around his neck, and how Luke's voice had dropped slightly when he'd said I'm all yours. Friends, or something like it.