Page 19

“I hear ya. We’ve got our jobs to do and can’t always be right there beside them to keep an eye on things.”

“Exactly.”

Tony’s laughter, carried along by the wind, made me pause just to savor the sound. Even when Bowie and Tibby joined in, it was Tony I dialed in on.

“Alright, that’s it, we’re done for the day,” Pressley declared. “Come on. Time to unwind and see what the hell is so hilarious down there.”

“I like the way you think,” I replied.

We followed the sound of laughter, splashing and Tibby yelping for them to hang on and not get the pages wet. A giant flood light stood on an island in the middle of the pond, providing plenty of illumination for us to navigate the path without breaking our asses. There, at the bottom of the embankment, was our band, minus their surly drummer. Socks and shoes had been discarded, jean legs were rolled up, Tibby stood ankle deep with the notebook in one hand, pen in another, and the pen cap in his mouth, water droplets streaming down his face as he scribbled on the pad while Bowie and Tony held rocks up, peering at them like they were searching for something interesting.

“I know Percilla is secure in the window box you got for the bedroom, but I’d still feel better if I could pack a bunch of rocks around her pot,” Bowie explained as he pocketed the one Tony handed him after a quick examination. “Plus, they’d make an awesome base for a terrarium.”

“As long as I don’t find them in my underwear drawer again, it’s all good,” Pressley said, snickering as he toed his shoes off.

Tony paused mid-bend, fingers trailing over the surface of the water. “Dude? Seriously? That’s almost as bad as you leaving them in a chair where some poor, unsuspecting friend could sit on them and bruise their ass.”

“How did you not see them there?”

“For the ninth time, I thought it was a lumpy pillow, not a bunch of rocks wrapped in a towel so they could dry.”

“I meant to put them on the coffee table and got distracted.”

“How? There were like, three steps between the chair and the coffee table in your old apartment,” Tony reminded him. “Short of being a mouse, how did you not make it those last three steps?”

“Like I remember?”

By then, Pressley was full on laughing and already rolling his pant legs up, so I looked around for a rock to sit on so I could unlace my boots.

“You should keep some,” Bowie suggested. “Restart your collection again.”

“Where the hell would I keep them on a bus?” Tony asked.

“Beside Percilla,” Bowie replied. “We’ll use pieces of the soda carton to divide the box in half. You fill one and I’ll fill the other. Then she’ll be safe and we’ll have rocks to take home with us.”

“Okay!” Tony replied, splashing around Bowie in an excited dance.

I swear, those two truly were brothers at heart.

“Okay, I got frozen, one foot in the future, the other in the past, too disillusioned to choose, to broken to believe the good things last,” Tibby announced, cap and pen reunited again.

Oh shit, had we interrupted a songwriting session?

Now I hesitated, watching for any signs that our presence wasn’t wanted. Harley stood beneath a towering pine, a mere shadow that occasionally shifted position as he observed.

“Perfect,” Bowie replied.

“Yup, you nailed it,” Tony replied. “We can just keep stockpiling lines as we work them out.”

“Sounds good,” Tibby replied before depositing the notebook and pen back on the rock.

Whew, not an actual session, just them collecting things as they played. Perfect. After sitting on my ass all day, a chance to get my toes in the water sounded like the ideal way to unwind.

“Are you coming in, Daddy?” Tony called as he finally straightened up, water dripping from his hands.

“Sure am.”

“Can you help find more cool rocks for us to pack around Percilla?” he asked.