AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I was the youngest of four, so my phone was never silent.
My three siblings were all married now with kids. Family get-togethers were loud and chaotic, and I wouldn’t trade them for anything.
Jack was my oldest brother at thirty-six. He’s with an orchestra in Denmark, and I kid you not, his ego’s as big as his cello. Chamber musicians are rock stars in Europe and party like ones, too. Yeah, Jack got along with my band brothers just fine.
My sister Vi taught piano back in Rhode Island, not far from my folks. She’s crazy talented, and I had a mind to invite her to our next event so she could play with us.
Then there’s Harriet. We’re fourteen months apart. But unlike the rest of our musical clan, Harriet’s a psychologist. She, her husband, and my six-year old nephew had recently moved to Georgia, about a three-hour drive from my home in Nashville.
I gotta admit, it’s nice to have family nearby. Not that a plane ride was long, but still.
Mom: When are you coming home?
Thanksgiving
Vi: Not before?
We’re in NOLA until the beginning of November, then back to TN for a few weeks.
Jack: I thought you were done touring for the year?
The concert was last minute, my decision. All the proceeds will go toward helping a local charity. I wanted to do it.
Harriet: Why doesn’t the press ever report about stuff like that? Instead, it’s you mooning the crowd or shouting raunchy comments.
That’s showbiz. How’s Dad?
Mom: He’s working on finishing the kitchen remodel. Knowing him, I doubt it’ll be ready for Thanksgiving. We may have to order takeout.
I’ve eaten worse on holidays.
Harriet: I gotta go. Marlon just jumped in our pool, and he took our neighbor’s cat with him.
He’s definitely my nephew.
Harriet: No question. You can look after him over Thanksgiving weekend and give me and Raj a break.
Happy to, love you guys
I placed my phone aside and headed to the closet to decide what to wear.
I’d prefer to slip into jeans. Hell, I’d prefer to wear grey sweatpants and a t-shirt. I could put on a wig and have my security team sneak me into a local bar instead.
Maybe after I made an appearance at this shindig.
Remembering Van’s warning, I picked a black leather corset vest and a mesh top to go over it. Then, one of my trademark kilts, in purple this time. At the last minute, I slipped on a lace and silk thong. I preferred being commando, but sometimes I loved the feel of lingerie.
I’d often wear it on stage. But it wasn’t just a performance look. It was me. I didn’t abide by gender conformity. I wore what I liked and in a way that felt natural to me. It caused some backlash when I was younger, but I held firm.
I never understood why people would hate on someone for being themselves. What did my wearing makeup or lace underwear, or not being hung up on gender stereotypes have to do with anyone else?
After lacing up my black knee-high boots, I threw on several silver and gold rings and earrings. Some charcoal eyeliner, lip gloss, and a bit of styling crème to tame the unruly waves of my hair, and I was good to go. I sent a group text to see if my bandmates were ready.
Hey, assholes, can we leave now?
Van: Driver’s pulling up in ten. Regan and Dawson are on their way to your suite.
You’re not going with?
