Page 39 of Midlife Crisis

“I’m more about mixing the sound,” Chopper states.

“Like rap music?” Midge asks, and I close my eyes. Music is music, but some sounds I don’t understand, and rap is one of them. The angry shit they screech about—I don’t know how other kids hear it. Where’s the meaning in those lyrics? Where’s the soul? The beat is so fast kids miss the point. God, I sound like an old man.

“Nah, I like old-school music. Stuff from your age.” I sit up, hoping Chopper’s reference doesn’t offend Midge. We aren’t that old. “Ever hear of Chrome Teardrops?” My head shoots up, and I hold my breath. Dammit.

“I don’t think so,” Midge replies.

“They were led by a girl. Kit Carrigan.” Silence follows only briefly.

“Kit Carrigan. Singer, right? Who didn’t want to be her? Blonde. Beautiful. Wild.” Midge sighs, like Kit was every girl’s fantasy. She had definitely been many men’s wet dream. “Didn’t she die young? Heart attack or something?”

“Breast cancer,” I interject from the office, unable to stop myself as the painful memories flip through my head.

“Right,” Midge hollers back. “That’s so sad. Wait, wasn’t she Ivy’s mother?” I don’t have to see Midge, to know the wheels are spinning and I’m waiting for the puzzle pieces to click. I’m biting my lip when Chopper interjects.

“You know Ivy? She used to babysit me. God, I had a crush on her.”

Midge laughs. “Doesn’t everybody? My youngest son has one on her, too.”

Chopper’s laughter follows, and I recognize that the women I surround myself with are too often admired by several men at once.

“Chopper, don’t you have work to do?”

“I’m on a break,” he snaps back.

“Since when do we get breaks around here?” I scoff.

“Since my dad owns the place,” he snaps back. Little shit. He’s smart enough to know this is his inheritance and his destiny if he doesn’t get his ass out of here. He works on cars because he can, but not because it’s his passion. Brut wants a life for him. One Brut didn’t have a chance at. I exhale, knowing part of Brut’s position came from my decisions. The other part came from him not keeping his dick in his pants.

“Get to work.” I chuckle to myself when I hear Brut’s rough voice.

“See ya, Midge,” Chopper says, rapping on the counter like his father does.

“Bye, honey.” Her sweet voice sends a ripple over me. I want her to use that endearment on me.

“You okay?” Brut’s voice interrupts my thoughts as he stands in the doorway. His brow pinches, and I’m wondering if he heard Chopper bring up Kit to Midge. It was innocent enough, but Brut doesn’t like to hear about Kit. He blames her for many things, like me not being unable to keep my dick in my pants, and my heart in my chest.

“I’m good.” I tip my chin.

“Then get to work, too. The Bentley awaits.” On second hand, Brut can be a dick.

17

Back to high school

[Midge]

Edie offering to come to Ronin’s play completely flabbergasted me. She purchased the tickets, and I thought she might consider it a donation to the high school, but when she actually walked in with Tommy on Friday night, I was equally surprised.

“I don’t go to these things anymore,” she says after taking a seat. “With Masie in college, I think I’m still in mourning over the high school years being over.” Edie’s daughter, Masie, attends Santa Clara University, a good five-hour drive from the Los Angeles area but certainly closer than her original home in Chicago. Edie’s story of moving to California fascinates me, and truthfully, I’m a little jealous of her happily-ever-after tale.

“It is so generous of you to attend. Ronin is thrilled to have the support. He misses family most when these types of opportunities arise.” My parents and Paul’s used to attend as much as they could of our children’s activities. With us living more than a thousand miles away, that’s no longer a possibility.

“I’m so excited. Les Misérables is one of my favorite musicals.”

“Darlin’, you know nothing about music,” Tommy teases beside her.

“I know about this,” she huffs until his tattooed arm surrounds her. Yep, happily-ever-after.