Time Out of Mind (Suncoast Society #43)(64)

“It worked out all right. Besides, you’re never too old to go back to school.”

She snorted. “Yeeaah. I don’t think so. I have the munchkin to take care of, and the guys, and a job.” A sigh escaped her. “Honestly? I had thought about looking into it before the munchkin. But I don’t want to leave her alone. She’s my miracle. I’m not an old hag. Maybe once she’s old enough and is in school full-time, then I’ll look into it. Right now, these are magic years, and I’m blessed beyond measure. I refuse to miss any more time with her than I have to.”

When they reached the hotel, which was on the way to the airport, Doyle hugged her.

“Thanks,” he whispered in her ear. “Whatever you did, I appreciate you having my boy’s back.”

She smiled. “That’s what friends do. I know if I needed you, I could count on you. In fact, you were there for me when I needed you a few years back.”

She patted his cheek. “It wasn’t just Loren and Ross who kept me vertical. A bunch of you did. You, Gilo, Tony, Leah, Abbey.” She choked back a ragged sigh. “Kaden. I know I didn’t let you all help me as much as you wanted to, but I appreciated the love and support you gave me. I love you guys, even if I don’t get to say it as often as I’d like. I don’t ever want to leave it unsaid, because I never know when the last time I’ll see someone is.” She leaned in and hugged him tightly one final time. “Kaden drilled that lesson into me.”

Doyle got out and waved as the car pulled out. As he walked through the lobby and headed for the elevators, he glanced toward the hotel bar. It was dark inside, and laughter and music loudly rolled from the entryway.

There were times he missed drinking, until he really stopped and remembered why he used to drink.

To forget.

To escape.

To temporarily numb mental and emotional pain, which always slammed home with a vengeance later.

Maybe I should look up a meeting.

He’d gotten sober before discovering and without the help of twelve-step meetings. It didn’t mean he didn’t occasionally find them helpful. A reminder that he wasn’t alone in the world, and that he wasn’t the only one struggling sometimes.

Turning away from the bar, he opted to head upstairs. He had his noise-cancelling headphones with him. He could put on a meditation album and ground himself. Once Mevi returned, he’d need Doyle to be focused and centered, ready to be his rock, if necessary.

And his boy would return to him, despite the nagging, tenacious anxiety that kept wanting to bubble up with a vengeance.

After we’re through this, I need to find a counselor for myself and deal with this shit.

After taking a shower and donning a pair of shorts, he worked through his tai chi form and then meditated with the music for thirty minutes. That helped relax him a lot. The past week had been especially crazy, with the additional stress on Mevi, and Doyle had neglected to take time for him.

After turning out most of the lights, he stretched out in bed and opted to turn the TV on and channel surf until he stumbled across an old Abbott and Costello movie and left it there.





The after party had been amazing, the energy great. Without the fear and stress of financial ruin looming over his head any longer, or Erique’s bullshit, and knowing that Doyle awaited him back in the hotel, Mevi was able to fully focus on the fans. Especially on the praise they lavished on the three new numbers he’d played.

For the first time, he was able to take their words to heart and not second-guess everything.

Unanimously, they’d loved the songs.

His band had loved them.

He hoped Doyle had liked them, especially since they’d been for him.

Specifically for him.

On the ride back to the hotel, Bonnie snuggled against him. “You coming back to my room? It is our tradition. Don’t want to jinx the tour, do we?”

He wondered if Doyle was even still awake as late as it was. “Would you mind if I did for a little bit? I’ve got a couple of things I want to work on.”

He had his iPad with him. In fact, he had it out on his lap and was working through composing some lyrics. Not as good as having a guitar in his hands and being able to pluck out chord progressions with them at the same time, but he could work out the worst of the song in his head on the iPad, then fine-tune it tomorrow.

“No, I wouldn’t mind.” She laid her head on his shoulder. “I never mind, you know that. Especially now that my old Mevi’s back.”

When they went to her room, he cast a glance toward his room door across the hall and hoped Doyle wouldn’t be upset with him. Doyle had told him he understood work came first, and that he would always be okay with him having to work. Especially given the unusual profession and hours and working conditions he was under.

She had a large double king like theirs, also not a suite. The hotel’s suite floor had been under renovation, so they’d been stuck with smaller rooms.

“Can I get you anything?” Bonnie asked him as he took the far bed to spread out his notebooks and iPad, the bed it was obvious she hadn’t been sleeping in.

“No.” He slipped his glasses on. “I just want to work on this before I forget the lyrics. You know how that goes.”

She stood between the beds, her hands on her hips. “That’s all?”