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I’d insisted we sleep at a hotel at least twice a week, but it wasn’t enough for my body. It took a lot to stay in touring shape, and sleep was part of that. Of course, fucking Carter never slept. His drug use had ramped up in the last year, and while it hadn’t yet impacted his playing, I could see the changes in him. His skin was pale and drawn, he’d lost a lot of weight, and he was always late. Whether it was booze, women, or the drugs, unless someone escorted him, he wasn’t on time for anything.
Luckily, it wasn’t my job to babysit him.
I got into the waiting SUV, typed the address into the GPS, and put it in gear. I pulled out of the lot and headed for the interstate.
A feeling of peace washed over me the moment the arena was out of sight.
My phone rang and I glanced down, shaking my head.
Mom.
She knew this was the time of night I was getting off stage and she always wanted to hear how it went. We didn’t talk every night, and it had been a few days, so I hit the button to accept the call.
“Hey, Ma.”
“Hi, honey. How was it?”
“Sold out. Loud. You know how it is.”
“What was your final encore?”
I chuckled. “Guess.”
“Tempo in Reno?”
“Nope.”
“Judgement Call?”
“That was second to last.”
“Break Your Promise.” She sounded disappointed.
“It’s only our biggest hit,” I said, laughing.
“Yeah, but I’m bored with that one.”
“Luckily, you aren’t our target audience.”
“Whatever.”
“So what’s up? How’s Grandma?” My father’s mother lived with my parents now that she was in her seventies. I’d had a cute little casita built for her on my parents’ property and it seemed to be working out for everyone.
“Always in my business,” Mom muttered. “But fine.”
“Hello, pot. Have you met the kettle?”
“You hush!” She laughed.
“Just sayin’.”
“You always take her side,” she complained.
“Only when you’re wrong.”
“So where are you headed?”
“Me, personally? A resort for two nights. The band is heading for Chicago.”
