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He pushes his way toward the bar, and I head backstage and out the rear exit past a security guard.
This bar is one of the best for up-and-coming bands in the Philly music scene. It might not be LA or New York, but over the past years, it’s grown enough the music execs take a serious look in our direction. And once you play The Hub, you end up on someone’s radar.
Taking a second to revel in that thought, I take a deep breath before checking to see who’s been blowing up my phone. I scroll past the usuals and smile when I see the two calls from my mom. She ranks the level of importance based on how many times she calls in a row. With two, I consider shooting her a text that we’ll catch up tomorrow, but the phone rings again with a picture of her and me flashing on the screen.
“Hey, Ma.”
“Hey, favorite second son,” she replies.
I shake my head at the same joke she always tells. “I’m very curious what I’d have to pull over on you to lose the title.”
She sighs. “Please, my love, do not try to find out. My favorite first son is already testing those boundaries.”
I stop my pacing by the neon sign with Hub flashing in violet and blue at the mention of my half-brother being anything but a saint and chuckle. “Archer couldn’t do wrong in your eyes if he sold everything he owned to join a hippie caravan.”
In fact, my mother would likely praise him for widening his horizons. She’s never put restrictions on where we might go in life. As a single mother, her focus mostly remained on keeping us fed and clothed, busting her ass to give us a better start in life than she’d had growing up. The most she’s ever made us promise is we’ll be happy wherever we end up.
The silence that follows my joke leaves me with unease. “Ma, what’s going on? Is Archer all right?”
With five years between us, we’ve never been the closest. Always in different parts of our lives. Not to mention he’s a golden boy dentist who saves the children, and I hide my grungy rocker under a suit to play music manager.
Not a lot of cross over, shockingly.
Another sigh and then the worst words she could ever say, “You remember how I raised your rowdy ass and never asked for anything in return? Well, baby boy, it’s time to repay the favor.”
Fuck.
Jordan’s staring at me while I relax on the couch of our sexy brownstone. It’s a hand-me-down from his older brother, a place to crash while he’s in law school, and fuck if we aren’t both enjoying the hell out of it. We pay his brother practically nothing for rent, which works out since Jordan’s rarely here more than to sleep with his schedule. Most weekends he heads back to Easton to spend time with Callie, so it’s more my bachelor pad than anything else.
Or at least it was until now.
“You sure about this?” he asks me.
I tug at the rings in my bottom lip with my teeth. “Not much of a choice when Ma plays the I birthed you without meds card.”
He cringes, but I just tip back my beer. As much as my mom plays saint, she’s reminded me of her hardships more than once to get a favor out of me. Although, this is the first time the favor included my older brother. Here everyone thought I’d be the one needing a place to couch surf one day.
Still a possibility, let’s be honest.
When Archer found out he would be leaving for Ecuador, he did the financially responsible thing and stuck all his cash in stocks and bonds. Not an issue when he’ll be out of the country, but since his trip was pushed back, it left him in a tight spot.
Enter the mom favor and Chateau Jones opens its doors for the first and only time.
Jordan still has a look of concern on his face. “When’s the last time you shared a living space with your brother? I mean, hell, I’ve been with you more than Callie over the past two years, and I’ve never even met the guy.”
I smirk. “Don’t worry, Jordy.” He cringes at the nickname as I continue, “No one will ever replace you.”
“Hardy har, asshat. Seriously though, I couldn’t imagine having Dustin around twenty-four-seven, and we were close as fuck growing up.”
With a shrug I sit up and snag a magazine from the coffee table that Jordan lays out for the rare times his parents visit. Apparently they like us better if we pretend to read Home and Garden or some shit.
The truth is, I was thirteen the last time my brother and I spent more than a few days around each other. Even when he’d come back while I was in school, I’d spend more time out of the house than in it. Regardless of how we’ve been in the past, I’ve always wanted to be closer with Archer. He’s a cool dude, always out to save the world. From what I know, the guy gives away more money than he keeps, and he thinks it’s fun to hang in the inner cities offering free dental services on his days off.
I easily could have pushed Archer off on Ma, reminding her how much work I’ve been putting in, but a part of me sees this as a last chance to truly get to know my brother before he takes off for the next few years. And if my gut’s right, this won’t be a box to check off for him. This will be his new way of life.
Technically, their new way of life. Can’t forget the chick he managed to talk into diving off the board with him. Ma met her over Christmas when she visited Archer in Pittsburgh. From the description she sounds like an uptight business type. Some sort of art snob or curator who gave up her swanky job to be with my brother in Pittsburgh only for him to move to Ecuador.
I glance around the living room, littered with guitars, cables, and speakers. About the time I think maybe I should have picked up a little bit before they arrive, there’s a knock at the front door. Jordan shakes his head and heads over to the equipment.
