The Prince of Punk Rock (42 page)

Very
slowly, the wall made of tissue inched down his mother’s face and she finally
looked at him.
 
The pain in her eyes
almost made Tommy fall apart.
 
His mouth
twitched and his eyes moistened.
 
He steeled
his jaw and swallowed.

Her
shaking hand touched his cheek and he leaned into it.
 
“I still love you, Tommy.
 
You’re still my little boy.”

He
wrapped his arms around his mother’s neck and held her too tightly.
 
She returned love and acceptance in her
embrace.

She
sniffled and wiped her nose with the leftover fragments of the discarded
tissue.
 
“I still don’t understand.
 
Who lives like this?”

“We do,
Mom.
 
This isn’t about you, or Dad or
what anybody thinks.
 
This is about
me.
 
It’s about who
I
am.”

His
father’s approaching footsteps made him tense and straighten up.
 
He stood tall, undaunted and unashamed.
 
Robert walked ahead and slung his arm around
Tommy’s shoulder and gave him a quick squeeze, but Tommy didn’t flinch.
 
He watched his father’s impending figure grow
closer with each step.

They
stood head to head once again, each defying the other.

“Have you
changed your mind about how you want to portray your friendship with this . . .
singer?”

“His
name’s Angel and it’s not a friendship.
 
He’s my partner.”

The
muscles in his father’s jaw tensed and he spoke through his clenched
teeth.
 
“If that’s the way you want to
live your life, live it somewhere else.”

He knew
he father would never accept his lifestyle.
 
He was done.
 
“Fine.
 
You’re still my father and I still love you,
but if that’s the way you feel, goodbye, Dad.”
 
He turned to leave but his mother’s high shrill voice cut through the
air and stopped him mid-stride.

“No!
 
My son is always welcome in this house!”

“Barbara,”
his father cautioned, “sit back down and stay out of this.”

“He’s our
son!”
 
His mother brazenly stood at his
side.
 
It was probably the first time she
ever stood up to Martin Blade.
 
She was
at least a foot smaller than him and her voice was a mousy squeak compared to
his commanding baritone, but she was momentous in her convection.
 
“Martin, I’ve always stood by your decisions,
but I will
not
stand by and let you ostracize our son from this family!”

“If
you’re trying to tell me that you agree with this sordid behavior, maybe you
should leave with him.”

“I’m not
going anywhere!
 
You’re not running me
out of my own home and you’re not chasing our son away either!” She pointed the
index finger of her fragile hand at him.
 
“If anyone is leaving, it’s
you
!”

Martin
Blade did something he probably never did before in his life.
 
He recoiled and showed emotion.
 
Whether it was because he was stunned that
his wife of 30 some odd years was defying him, or because she threatened to
throw him out of the house, he was wounded.
 
“You can’t be serious?”

“I have
never been more serious about anything in my life.”
 
She curled her hand around Tommy’s arm, and
he felt the shake in her limbs.
 
“There
are two sons in this family.
 
And a
daughter-in-law.
 
And now we have another
son.
 
Angel.
 
Get used to it!”

Martin
closed his eyes and swallowed as if he was digesting a rancid piece of
meat.
 
“I’m not OK with this, Barbara.”

Robert walked
around the table and stood next to Tommy and his mother, forming a united
front. “You have to at least try.
 
You
can’t turn your back on Tommy.
 
Me and
Mom aren’t.”

Jessi
joined them, leaving Martin to stand alone, imbalanced and teetering.
 
Her voice was kind and sympathetic.
 
“Listen, Martin, I know it’s a shock and
unconventional, and no one expects you to embrace the idea overnight.
 
Just . . . take it slow.
 
One day at a time.
 
After a while, you’ll accept it.”

The anger
in his father’s eyes was slowly diminishing, and he appeared to be listening.

Barbara
looped her free hand through Robert’s arm, holding onto her two sons like
bookends, or more like using them to support her shaking body.
 
“You’re not breaking up this family, Martin.”

Tommy was
never more proud to be Barbara Blade’s son.

It was
quiet again.

Tommy
stepped back and spread his arms.
 
“Here
I am, Dad.
 
This is it.
 
It’s me.
 
Your son.
 
And I make no apologies
for who I am.
 
Take it or leave it.
 
I’ll walk out that door and you’ll never see
me again.
 
It’s your call.”

His
father opened his mouth to say something, then stopped and huffed.
 
He looked at the faces of his family, staring
back at
him
with judgment.
 
He
took a long brooding pause and then let out a gruff breath.
 
“I’m not comfortable with this.
 
But . . . maybe, in time, I could learn
tolerance.”
 
He stuck out his arm and
offered his hand.

Tommy closed the door and leaned
against it with a heavy sigh, unable to move. At least it was over and his father
was still talking to him.

Jessi rubbed his chest with her
hand. “It wasn’t that bad, baby.”

Angel was waiting, with the
familiar look of concern that was always displayed across his handsome face
whenever Tommy was the slightest bit upset.
 
“I wish you would have let me come with you.”

“I didn’t want you there.
 
I didn’t want you to fall victim to my
father’s narrow-mindedness.”

“It’s nothing I haven’t dealt with
before, Tommy.
 
I wanted to be there to
support you, but I understand.”
 
Angel
led him to the couch.
 
“Sit down. I’ll
make you some tea.”

“Tea?”
 
Tommy laughed a little.
 
He never drank tea.
 
This wonderful man always calmed his angst
with the least amount of effort.
 
“I need
something a lot stronger than tea.”

Angel disappeared into the kitchen
and returned with a stout glass filled with some kind of amber liquid.
 
Tommy threw back half the contents of the
glass in one big gulp.
 
The alcohol
burned his throat and he coughed on the harsh taste of Johnnie Walker.

“Your brother was there, right?”

“Yeah.
 
But it didn’t make it any easier to tell my
father about us.
 
You know he’s not crazy
about you to begin with.”

“How bad was it?
 
Tell me.”

He wasn’t about to tell Angel of
his father’s initial shock and horror, or the ugly things he said.
 
He couldn’t tell Angel that his mother cried
harder than she did when her own mother died.

Angel pulled him in for a close
embrace.
 
“Talk to me, mi amor.
 
Tell me what happened.”

Angel was always full of empathy
and compassion.
 
He couldn’t hurt him
with the nasty details.
 
“It was pretty
bad, at first, but I think it’ll be alright.”
 
He paused.
 
“Thank you, Angel, for
giving me the courage to tell my parents something I struggled with my whole
life.
 
I never would have been honest
with them if it weren’t for you.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

Fifteen bands, one stage, three eliminations a week.
 
The last band standing at the end of the
Battle
of the Bands would
open at America Rocks, the highly anticipated music festival celebrating the
Fourth of July.

Angel saw
Kendall
earlier, before the
start of the show, and they wished each other luck.
 
She seemed excited about performing and they
actually had a halfway decent conversation.
 
It was probably the first one they had in years that wasn’t full of
undertones and implications.

Her set wasn’t good.
 
Angel felt
bad for her.
 
She should have just sung
in her key, instead of trying to hit notes that were way out of her reach.
 
Her 15 minute set was nothing except a
high-pitched scream.
 
He was surprised
every dog in the neighborhood wasn’t howling at the door.

Even if she
was
concocting a scheme, there was no way she was
going to advance to steal the win after the set she performed tonight.

Shortly afterwards, Angel saw her pitching a fit with someone who
worked for the bar.
 
He didn’t know what
she was so upset about, but security was standing with them and Angel had the
feeling she was getting herself thrown out of the bar.
 
He didn’t stick around to find out what it
was about.
 
Immortal Angel was scheduled
to play next.

They were performing their top four songs.
 
There was no room for error.
 
This wasn’t entirely the band’s crowd.
 
Some fans were there, Audra and Kira, plus
other familiar faces from The Quadrangle, but it was mostly a mashup of people
who came out to vote on local music.
 
Most of them probably never heard of Immortal Angel before today.
 
The band needed to impress them with their
music ability and Angel needed to win them over with his vocals.
 
He was confident that they could do it.