Blessed Tragedy(13)

My dad knocked on the basement door when he brought lunch to us. “Sounds amazing down here. Maddie, your mom would be so proud.” Tears were forming in his eyes. I silently begged him to stop before I started crying again.

“Thanks, Dad. I assume that means you're okay with them helping me out tomorrow?”

“You know I don't like admitting when I'm wrong, Moo-- sorry, Maddie. I was wrong. I'd be honored to have all four of you up there tomorrow. It's what your mom would have wanted and it's what I want too.” I glared back at my band mates who were snickering at my dad's use of my nickname, knowing there was no way I was going to escape it at this point.

“Thanks. I told you we knew more than just our stuff. But really, Travis and Jon deserve the credit. Trav was playing it when I walked down this morning and Jon's a genius at arranging music in a hurry.” I hugged my dad tightly. “They're good guys, I swear,” I whispered before letting him go.





Chapter Seven



We somehow made it through forty-seven minutes of questions from high school band students ranging from when we knew this is what we wanted to do to one charming kid asking the guys if they get laid a lot. I cringed at that question, not because of the answer but because I knew Garrett would be having words with the student after the final bell rang if he was half as serious as his dad. I almost felt sorry for the kid.

The short ride back to my parents' house was filled with laughter as we talked about the students' reactions to our impromptu appearance. Jon enjoyed it so much he asked what we thought about doing more stops like that in the towns we hit on tour. It was an unexpected turn but seemed to be a good way we could all give a little back and support music in schools.

When we pulled onto Lapham Drive, the short street was lined with vehicles. I wasn't looking forward to walking through the house with that many eyes watching our every move. I hoped everyone would be too busy getting ready to go to the funeral home to notice our arrival, giving us a few moments of peace.



Even though I told the guys they didn't have to come to the visitation, they insisted they were going to be there for my family through everything we were facing. While there'd never been a question that we were all close, I was beginning to see that I wasn't the only one who saw the others as family.

Mark called my band mates down to the rec room to disperse the clothes he'd picked up for them. When I finished getting myself ready, I walked into the basement to see my brother inspecting his handiwork in transforming my hard rocking friends into debonair gentlemen. I hadn't questioned whether or not they were capable of cleaning up well but Mark had truly outdone himself. Each article of clothing seemed handpicked to play up their best features.

Jon and Colton had their hair slicked back into low ponytails and Mark was fussing with Travis's to give his normally just screwed look a bit of a GQ sophistication. I felt like a proud mama, looking at them all dressed up and ready to go.

I'd love to say my friends blended into the crowd since they were dressed the part but that would be a lie. From my place in the receiving line, listening to an endless line of people offer their words of sympathy I could see the looks they were getting. Most people were curious about them and a few recognized them and asked for autographs. That surprised me because, again, I didn't think anyone in my former life knew or enjoyed our music.

Jon became the spokesperson for our little group, declining to sign any autographs because it was out of line for the evening. He did hand each person who asked a business card for our manager and let them know to be in contact and explain where they got the card and he'd “take care of them.” Had I been in his shoes, I'm not sure I would have thought to handle the situation that well. There's a reason we relied on him to be the brains of our little operation.

The visitation was schedule to end at eight but there was still a line of people waiting to pay their respects. Colton pulled me out of the line for a moment to let me know they were going to go back to the house and put out some food for when the family came home. I couldn't help but wonder if one of them had someone directing their movements like we do on stage. Many times throughout the day, my guys knew exactly what to do at just the right time.

“Thank you,” I whispered, brushing my lips across Colton's cheek as we hugged. Just like so many of the words I'd heard tonight, those two words seemed incredibly inadequate. There was no way to fully express how much it meant to me that the trio of men were committed to helping my family get through my mother's death.

“Don't mention it. You'd do the same for me.” He tightened his embrace and leaned down so our foreheads were touching. “I meant it when I told you that we'd do anything we could to help.” He softly kissed my forehead and released me to join my family. The scent of his cologne lingered on my clothes after he was gone giving me a reminder of the feelings I was trying to fight.



The spread of food covering the kitchen counter when we got home rivaled that of any green room I had experienced. Honestly, there was a small part of me that wondered if this had been planned ahead of time and they'd called a caterer to meet them at the house. I knew they hadn't, but these three men barely managed making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for themselves. Seeing they were capable of putting together a spread of cold cuts, cheese, fruit and pasta salads and dessert was impressive.



After an hour of practicing Dust in the Wind in the rec room, Colton and I excused ourselves to get some sleep. Matt narrowed his eyes when he saw us heading up the stairs together but didn't say anything. I knew he wasn't happy about the sleeping arrangement but I didn't really care. As long as I knew the truth and my father wasn't forbidding it, I was going to sleep next to my best friend.

“You guys really went above and beyond today, you know that?” I changed into my tank top and lounge pants, unphased by the fact that Colton was sitting on the bed watching me.

As Colton started unbuttoning his shirt I slid behind him to the closet. He handed me his shirt and I hung it up while he finished undressing. I chuckled at how domestic the entire situation would appear to most people. We were an old married couple who'd never shared more than a platonic kiss.

“What's so funny?”

“Us, that's what.” It was a bad sign that going to bed was quickly becoming the best part of my day. “I'm sure everyone in this house right now thinks we're together, and that's without seeing us getting ready for bed like any other married couple in America. You're handing me your clothes to hang up, I'm laying out everything we need for the morning. It's just weird.”

“Would it upset you if they think we're together?” Colton's question caught me by surprise. I wasn't sure how to answer, not wanting to make a fool of myself by saying the wrong thing, whatever 'the wrong thing' was.

“Not really. I mean, we know what we are, right?” I wanted to see where he would go with the conversation rather than letting on that part of me wanted there to be something more between us. I was still struggling with the thought of getting involved with someone I wouldn't be able to avoid if things didn't work out. I was on emotion overload with my mom's death. This wasn't really the time for me to make decisions like this.

“Right, but what do you want?” I want to not be talking about this. I want to be sleeping. Yes, it's something I had been thinking about but he couldn't possibly know that. That meant he'd been thinking about it too, so I had to assume that meant he was interested in something else as well. I would have figured he'd have long ago given up on chasing me since I did spend so much time telling him that we'd never be more than friends.

Colton tentatively wrapped his arms around my waist. I shied away from him, not wanting to deal with everything I was thinking and feeling. If we got involved, it couldn't be like this. I didn't want either of us wondering if it would have happened if I had been trying to fill the void left by Mom's death.

“I don't know, Colt. Can we talk about this later?” I slid between the covers and rolled towards the window. If I didn't look at him, I wouldn't have to deal with the emotions on his face, whatever they were.

“When would be a better time?” Colton asked sounding hurt. Why did he choose now to bring up this particular topic? Was he hoping to catch me in a moment of weakness?

“We've avoided talking about it for almost a year now. We sleep together every damn night. How much longer do we pretend neither of us feels anything for the other?”

I got out of the bed and started pacing near the windows. I wanted to scream at Colton. Even if I was having my own internal struggle with my feelings towards him, there couldn't be a worse time for us to discuss this.

“And you seriously think the night before my mom's funeral is the time to start a relationship? You really think I'm in a mental place to even think about shit like that?”