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“Honestly, Zoe, it doesn’t matter. We’re going back to the US soon, and Chris has a whole different life than we do.”
A life with drugs and groupies and fame. One that I will never fit into. And one that I will definitely not drag my daughter into with me.
“Are you going back?”
I look down at Zoe, and she’s gazing up at me, tear tracks drying on her cheeks and the long, curly hair she inherited from her dad fanning out over my lap.
“Of course, I’m going back.”
Zoe looks skeptical. “But you and Chris—”
“Would be ridiculous,” I finish. “Come on, could you imagine if this was my life? I would hate it. Sex, drugs, and rock ’n’ roll is not my life. My life is back home in our cute little town where I can see you on the weekends and have a studio again.”
Zoe is quiet for a few moments, and then she turns onto her side.
“Besides,” I say, trying to lighten the mood, “don’t you want me back home with you? Where will you go to do your laundry on the weekends or study for finals or have a home-cooked meal?”
She doesn’t answer right away, a crease between her eyebrows as she stares unseeing at the TV. “While I appreciate the irony of saying this while my head is in your lap and I’m coming down off a bad high, I think we both need to learn to be better on our own.” My heart tightens in my chest. “I love you, Mom, but I also need to be an adult.”
Tears spring into my eyes. “I love you, too.”
My phone dings on the armrest of the couch, and I lean over to see a message from Chris.
Chris
How’s our little pothead?
I show Zoe the text and she squeals, covering her face with her hands. “I. Am. Dying. Pothead? Nooooo . . .”
32
Chris
After seeingSara and Zoe safely out of the stadium, I return to the backstage room where the band is still relaxing. Eventually, we will split up, either headed to clubs or the hotel.
I step into the room and zero in on Alwin. “You. Come with me.”
Alwin rolls his eyes and excuses himself from the group he is talking to. Sara is pissed, and I’m pissed at Alwin. The next door I find goes into a supply closet, but it’s big enough for the two of us. When Alwin closes the door, I round on him.
“How could you give her pot? You know Sara was nervous enough about this.”
Alwin crosses his arms and glares at me. “Seriously? You’re going to be pissed at me about this? Zoe is a grown woman, man. She makes her own choices and is responsible for her own actions. She knew exactly what she was doing. She even said something about preferring edibles.”
“So, she knew?”
“Look, we’ve spent enough time around groupies and roadies to get a sense for who’s trying too hard and who’s partying too hard. Zoe falls into the former. She obviously was in a bit over her head and look how that turned out.”
“Still, it’s dangerous.”
Alwin’s eyebrow raises. “More dangerous than Ram’s partying? You don’t seem to be so upset about the overdoses anymore.”
“Ram knows he’s walking a dangerous edge,” I grind out.
“Or maybe it’s that you’re trying to be a responsible grown-up around Sara.”
“Is that such a bad thing?”
“It is if it’s got you wound too tight. This lifestyle comes with its risks and rewards. You’re being way too hard on yourself lately. And too hard on us.”
