“What are you saying?” I ask.
“I’m saying, once he gets the all-clear, let’s really let him stretch his legs. I want you to take him on tour with us.”
“Us, who?”
“Us, the band, and you,” Brad clarifies.
That’s the last thing I expected him to say. “Brad, I told you last night-”
“I know what you told me, bossy britches. But now I’m telling you. You’re coming back on tour, and you’re bringing Ben and we’re gonna have the best fucking time ever. Like, Dippin’ Dots galore fun.”
I can’t help but burst out laughing, even with the ridiculousness of it all, the image of the three of us twirling around while Dippin’ Dots fall from the sky is too funny an image not to indulge in.
“Is that a yes?” Brad asks, his eyebrows raised, his mouth open, a look of hope on his face.
“The hell it is. I was laughing at how crazy you are. I wasn’t even going on the tour myself! What makes you think I’m going to take my injured five-year-old?” I shake my head at his gall.
“Because. Because name one reason why the fuck not?”
“Er, because he has a broken arm in three places and probably needs to be near someone who can care for that sort of thing; because he has school; because he is five years old and shouldn’t be gallivanting around the country like a groupie; because I need to work, or find a new job because I’m probably going to be fired from this one; because you and I can not be in the same damn room together without kissing; because…”
“Whoa, overachiever, I said name one reason. And anyway, none of those are valid,” Brad interrupts me. “Yes, he has a broken arm. Well, people have had broken arms before, and we will make sure he has the care he needs. I wouldn’t jeopardize his health for anything. And school? He’s five. He can take a few weeks out and not have it affect his application to Oxford, and this is more of an education than anything he’d learn in school.”
I open my mouth to argue but Brad’s hand comes up to cover it as he continues.
“And groupie? Hello, we have a cupboard of board games on the boys’ bus. I think you have a very distorted view of just how we live. And if you get back on tour with us, you won’t be losing your job. And as for the kissing…are we kissing right now?”
“Hell no.”
“Then, see? No problem! I can totally not kiss you.”
“Brad!”
“Just, okay. Sit down. Sit! Jeez, it’s like blood out of a stone.” He waits until I’ve sat before he sits down next to me, his lecture continuing. “You need to do this, for you. Your time to shine remember? This isn’t about us. This is about you, You, you, you, you, you. This story is going to put you on the map. And I want to be a part of it.”
When he sees me not arguing, he hands me a business card. “This is a number of a nanny agency that Dennis has gotten in touch with. Meet with a few of them, pick one, and they’ll be coming with us to take care of Ben, 24/7.”
“I can’t afford that,” I tell him, embarrassed to have to admit it.
He tilts his head and looks at me like I’m mad. “Yes, you can. Because you’re not paying.”
“What?”
“Dennis and Phil have done their ‘your people talk to my people’ thing and between your paper and the band, we’re going to cover for it. I mentioned that you’re a stubborn mule-ass and won’t accept the money, in which case Phil has decided that you will be getting a very substantial raise for the duration of your time with us. They’d rather you did it their way of course, tax things blah blah, I tuned out, snore. But anyway, it’s all taken care of.”
Has he really organized all this for me?
“It’s four weeks. Doing what you love, having the person you love most right there beside you,” he concludes, saying the exact right thing.
I don’t know how to respond. Am I really considering it? Am I crazy?
Brad looks at me, his top front teeth digging into his lip, waiting for my answer.
“It does sound like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Ben would have a fucking ball, and after his accident, there’s really no chance I could leave him,” I think out loud.
My time to shine.
Maybe it really is.
“Brad…what about us?” I have to ask.
He thinks for a minute, and I appreciate that he does. That he doesn’t just have some prepared answer. “Ball’s in your court. I will do whatever you want, leave you alone, or be on call for 24/7 orgasms, and everything in between. I don’t want what’s going on or not going on between us to affect your decision. I don’t want it to be the reason you say no.”
“Okay.”
“Wait, are you-” His eyes widen and he searches my face for clues.
“Wait.” I hold out my hand.
“You’re considering it?”
“Maybe…”
Brad jumps up and runs into Ben’s room, pulling something out of his back pocket. I follow him, confused.
“Hey Benny Boy, do you know what this is?” He waves something in front of Ben’s face.
“Sure! It’s a helicopter, is that for me?”
“Sure is, but I’ve got something even better.”
“Ooh.”
“How do you feel like going for a ride in a real helicopter?!” Brad asks him. And I realize I’ve lost this battle.
“I would love it!”
“Then convince your mother.”
“MOMMY! Can we go in a helicopter ride, can we? I’ll eat more yogurt! Please Mommy, please!” Ben begs me, TV forgotten.
“You bastard.” I glare at Brad.
“I said the ball was in your court. I didn’t say I wasn’t going to smash it there,” he says, victory written all over his face.
I sigh and stroke Ben’s hair. “You really wanna go?”
“YES, MOMMY!” Ben insists excitedly, almost jumping out of bed.
Brad is watching me when I face him. I say one word. “Fine.”
“Is that a yes?” he asks, his voice almost as excited as Ben’s.
“It’s a ‘fine,'” I say, refusing to give him too much.
“I’ll take it!”
***
I must be crazy. Certifiably, freakin’ out-of-my-mind bonkers to be agreeing to this. But in the moment, my brain couldn’t rustle up an argument that he hadn’t thought of. I just couldn’t bring myself to say the words “Because I’m still in love with you but I can’t let you break my heart again.”
I mean, it’s not true, is it? I don’t know.
I only know that when I’m with him, I feel like those words are just right there, on the tip of my tongue.
So, now I’m home, packing clothes for my little boy to join me on a band tour around Europe.
“Mommy!” Ben calls me from his bedroom in our cozy apartment.
“I’ll be right there, sweetheart.”