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Bobby found his father out in the garden behind his house in Bel Air. He was kneeling on the ground, hair tied back and floppy sun hat on his head. His gardening gloves were covered in dirt from the replanting he was doing. He looked nothing like the multimillion dollar recording artist the world knew.
Bobby stopped beside him. “Hey, dad,” he said.
Trevor jumped, hand to his chest. “Jesus! Don’t do that, Robbie! I’m an old man!”
Bobby smirked at the use of his old nickname. “Sorry.” He came and sat down on the grass beside his dad. “What’re those?”
“Bee Balm. I’m making a bee-friendly garden.” Trevor smiled at him. “How was Bali?”
“So good,” Bobby said wistfully. “Two weeks wasn’t long enough.”
“You should’ve stayed longer. You know I would’ve paid for it.”
Bobby smiled at his father’s easy generosity. “I wish we could’ve, but it was hard enough for Alison to get two weeks as it was.”
Trevor’s eyebrows went up. “For her honeymoon? What kind of bastards does she work for?”
“She’s in residency, dad, there’s expectations.” He and Trevor had had this conversation multiple times, but his dad still felt there should be more flexibility in a really inflexible system.
Trevor grunted and transplanted another delicate flower. “These should be a gorgeous red when they bloom.”
“The garden looks great.” Bobby surveyed the large flower bed. It was a riot of colours; a bright and happy oasis. “What other flowers are you going to plant for the bees?”
Trevor gave him a flat look. “Please don’t tell me you drove all the way here from Los Feliz to ask me about gardening.”
Bobby sighed and ran his hand through his hair. His dad could always read him like a book. “I’m thinking of quitting the band.”
Trevor sat back on his heels. “You’re quitting Julie and the Phantoms? Why?”
Bobby blew out a breath, collecting his thoughts. “I just got married,” he said finally.
“I remember,” Trevor said wryly. “It was quite the party. But I think Alison knew you were in a band before you went through with it?”
“For sure. I mean, we met because she came to pick up Alex after practise. It’s just… “ He sighed, unsure how to continue.
“You’re thinking of your mother, aren’t you?” Trevor asked softly.
Bobby nodded, gaze lowered. “Yeah.”
Trevor shifted so he was also sitting, forearms resting on the pads strapped to his knees. “You know her leaving wasn’t your fault. Or Carrie’s. She made that choice on her own.”
“I didn’t think it was my fault.” Bobby met Trevor’s gaze.
“Oh,” Trevor said quietly. “You think it was mine.”
Bobby tilted his head, unwilling to voice his agreement out loud. “She had to give up her career, dad. I could see why she wouldn’t want to stay.”
“And you’re worried the same thing will happen to you and Alison?”
“Well, yeah. She’s a doctor. She saves peoples’ lives. I just play guitar in a band. She’s not going to want to give all that up for me.” He scrubbed his hands over his face, feeling helpless.
“So, you want to give up the band for her.” Trevor stated, knowing it wasn’t a question.
“It just makes sense. I could go back to school, become a music teacher, or a manager. Or maybe stay home with the kids.” He smiled as he said it, wishing the thought didn’t feel like he was carving a hole in his heart.
“Robbie, you’ve wanted this since you and Reggie flipped a coin for rhythm guitar back in your freshman year,” Trevor reminded him. “Granted, you were only in the band maybe a year before you met Alison, but it’s still been your dream. Are you sure you want to give it up?”
“I don’t want to lose her,” Bobby said, giving his fear a name. “Alison is…she’s everything. If I take her away from her career, force her to tour with me, she’s going to resent me and leave. Like mom did.” He pulled up some grass with his fingers. “I just can’t lose her.”
“Your mom cheated on me with her chiropractor,” Trevor said.
Bobby’s head snapped up. “What?”
“That’s why we got divorced. Not because she missed her career. We just told you guys that so you wouldn’t hate her. The divorce was hard enough on you and Carrie without you knowing the truth.”
“Holy shit,” Bobby breathed. “She cheated on you?”
Trevor took off his gloves and ran a hand over his face. “Let’s get one thing straight. I was a shit partner and a shit husband. Your mom tried. She really tried to make it work with me, but I wouldn’t open up or let her in. I don’t blame her for choosing Jason over me. I hated it, but I totally get why she did.”
It was like the world had just titled on its axis. Bobby stared at his father. “That’s why you guys broke up?”
“I was a mess when your mom met me,” Trevor said bluntly. “I’d made my first record deal the same year my brother died. And with all the tours and media and shows, I never got a chance to mourn. Instead, I shut down. I think Morena thought she’d be able to break through. Heal me somehow, but she couldn’t. So, after a while she got fed up, and left.”
Bobby had always known about his uncle Robert. He’d been named after him, but he’d never thought much about the impact Robert’s death would’ve had on his father. “I’m sorry,” he said. He wasn’t sure if he was apologizing for what happened, or for not knowing, or both.
Trevor shrugged. “Eh,” he said. “Shit happens. But counselling’s great. Highly recommend.”
Bobby grinned at that, but then his smile faded. “I don’t want Alison to leave me.”
“Then don’t be a dick, and she won’t,” Trevor said. “But Robbie, you must’ve, you know, talked to her about this before you got married?”
“Yeah?” Bobby said, then winced. He pulled up some more grass, unwilling to meet his father’s eyes. “Not really.”
“Let me guess. You were afraid of what she’d say?”
“It’s not like she brought it up,” Bobby muttered, but he knew he couldn’t just blame Alison. “I don’t know what to do.”
“I think what you’re really saying is that you don’t want to give up Julie and the Phantoms, but you don’t want to ruin your marriage, either,” Trevor said knowingly. “If only there was someone who could help you with that.”
“You’re saying I need to talk to Alison.” Bobby shook his head as he laughed at himself. “I probably should’ve started there.”
“Alison’s a bright lady. I’m pretty sure she knew what she was getting into when she married a wannabe rock star,” Trevor said. “And knowing her, she’s already got it all figured out. You should go ask.”
“I should go ask,” Bobby repeated. Now he had a plan, he was dying to see her. He stood. “I should go.”
“Not so fast. Lunch with your old man first?”
Bobby grinned. “I could probably make time.”
“That’s the right answer.” Trevor put out his hand and Bobby helped pull him to his feet. He winced as his knees popped. “Fuck. Growing old really sucks.”
“You should do more yoga,” Bobby said.
“Fuck you,” Trevor said without heat. “And your sister and I have a yoga date every Saturday, if you must know. You should come.”
Bobby smiled at the thought of his sister and father doing yoga together in the house’s studio: Carrie sliding gracefully into every pose and his father grunting and groaning with each one. It sounded like it could be fun. “Maybe,” he said. “Alison might have plans.”
“Bring her,” Trevor said. “She’s family.”
“What a day,” Alison said as she came into their apartment. She’d loved their two-week honeymoon in Bali, but if she had to choose where she liked it best, she’d always pick her apartment with Bobby. “Something smells good.”
Bobby turned from where he’d been cooking on the stove. He smiled at her and her stomach filled with butterflies. Even though they’d been together since she was sixteen, he still made her feel as giddy as a teenager. She went to him and they kissed, slow and sweet like they had all the time in the world.
“Wait,” Bobby said after gently pulling away. He turned back to the pot. “Don’t want this to burn.”
“What’re you making?” She leaned her head against his upper arm and he kissed the top of her head.
“Galinhada.” He grinned. Bobby’s mother was Brazilian, and she’d taught her kids several traditional recipes, and Bobby loved to cook. Alison knew how lucky she was.
“Ooh!” Alison crooned at the mention of one of her favourite dishes. She moved to peer into the pot. “That’s a lot of work.”
He shrugged like cooking for hours was no big deal. “You’re worth it.”
Her heart glowed with his casual affection. “I love you.”
“I love you.” He bent and kissed her. She returned it enthusiastically, so glad to be with him. She slid her hands up the back of his shirt. “Don’t,” he murmured, “or this really will burn.”
“You could turn it off?” She giggled.
He laughed, his beautiful dark eyes dancing. “Can I feed you first? You must be hungry.”
“I am,” she admitted. “I didn’t get lunch today. The ED was packed.”
He frowned in sympathy. “Dinner’s going to be a minute. Want a snack? I cut up some cheese and peppers.”
“Thank you!” She opened the fridge and pulled out her snack, marvelling yet again how thoughtful Bobby was. She smiled contentedly as she sat down at the table, immediately scarfing several pieces of cheese and then picking up a slice of pepper. “I was so smart to marry you.”
He ran a hand through his hair, and she stopped mid-chew, immediately sensing something was wrong. “Bobby?”
“About that,” he said.
Her heart dropped. She put the rest of the pepper she’d been eating back onto the plate, a hundred different and horrible scenarios running through her mind. “What’s wrong?”
“How are we going to make this work?” he asked. “You’re a doctor and I’m a musician. With a band that might actually get famous. How are we going to do this?”
So that was it. She stood and went to him, sighing in relief. She looped her hands around his waist and he lifted his arm so she could fit underneath. “Thank God. I thought you were dying of some horrible disease!”
He laughed. “That’s the first thing you thought of?”
“Doctor, remember? I always think of horrible diseases.”
He laughed again, but then he frowned. “You’re a doctor,” he repeated.
“And you’re an almost-famous musician.” She leaned her cheek against his chest. “I kind of knew that when I met you.”
She felt him chuckle. “Back then? We were terrible.”
“Yeah, Sunset Curve wasn’t anything to write home about. But I knew you guys were going to make it. Even then.”
“You really believe in me, don’t you?” he said softly.
“Always have, always will,” she said, equally as soft. “Just like you believed in me.”
“I knew you’d always get into med school.”
“I wasn’t so sure. Your faith in me meant everything.”
“How are we going to do this?” he asked again, voice pained. “Your career is so important but…”
“You don’t want to give up on the band. I know.” She gave him a squeeze. “I’ve always known that. And you won’t have to.”
“But I’m going to be away so often. And what about when we have kids? Maybe I’m just asking for too much.” His head dropped.
Alison moved so he could see her face. “No, Bobby! No, you are not asking for too much! Your dreams are as important as mine! I’ll have days off, and vacation, and you won’t be touring all the time. We’ll make it work. We will.”
“My mom and dad couldn’t make it work,” Bobby said.
“We’re not them,” Alison replied immediately. “Your mom gave up her career when she really didn’t want to. You’re not asking me to do that.”
“Never,” he agreed. “But I found out today that mom actually cheated on my dad. It wasn’t about her job at all.”
Alison blinked. “Wow. That must have been hard to hear.”
“It wasn’t too bad,” Bobby said thoughtfully. “It actually made more sense than the career thing, considering she never really went back to journalism.”
“Her romance book series is pretty good, though,” Alison said.
“True that.” He grinned, but then his expression went painfully serious. “Alison…” He swallowed. “Alison, please promise me you’ll tell me if things aren’t working for you? Because I’ll do anything to make this work. Because… because you’re more important to me than anything.”
She stroked his face, rubbing the corner of his mouth until his frown softened. “I know how important I am to you, because you’re more important to me than anything, too. And I hope you’ll promise me the same thing?”
He nodded solemnly. “I promise.”
“I promise,” she repeated. “Bobby, don’t worry. We’ll make this work.”
“You really mean that?”
“With all my heart,” she said.
He smiled then, some of the apprehension finally leaving his eyes. “God, I love you.”
“I love you too, Mr. Mercer-Wilson.” She grinned at him. “Now put that pot on the back of the stove, because I want to consummate our relationship.”
He laughed. “Didn’t we do that on our wedding night?”
She cocked one eyebrow. “Are you saying ‘no’?”
He turned off the stove and moved the pot off the burner. “Never.”
END