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“Yeah, that’s so cool.” He pulled out another bucket, this time full of cars and these cones and stuff you can set up to drive them around. The rubber mat on his floor didn’t hurt my knees and the cars still easily drove over it. This was fun, cars were definitely something I liked.

“Boys, lunch is ready,” Uncle Casey called out. “Pick up your toys and come and eat.”

“Okay, Daddy.” We put everything back as neat as a it was before.

“Daddy!” I hollered as we got to the kitchen. “I think I like race cars best so far.”

“You think or you know, Little Wren?”

“Hmm,” I thought hard but the answer came quick. “I know. Chase has fun racetracks and the cars go vroom really fast around it.”

Daddy smiled and patted my head. “Then I think we’re on the same track and cars would make a great addition to your playroom.”

“Dad jokes,” I rolled my eyes at his same track comment. “Wait, I have a playroom?”

“Not yet, but you will have soon.”

“Yay!” Chase and I cheered.

“Silly boys, let’s eat so we can go swimming.”

Best vacation ever.

Wait, first vacation ever.

But still the best.

Chapter Fifteen

Wolf

I woke to the feel of Pressley tapping me on the shoulder and realized that I’d fallen asleep sitting up on the couch on the band’s tour bus with Tony’s head on my lap. He was still passed out, arm and hair dangling over the edge, half of his body pinning me in place while he napped.

What the hell time was it?

Between the tinted windows and the heavy purple blackout curtains they’d hung in front of them, you couldn’t tell if it was day or night inside the bus when they had them closed. I heard the click of the lamp being turned on and Bowie and Tibby swam into view, my vision still blurred enough that it took a moment to focus on them.

They were crashed out in a tangle of arms and legs on the couch across from us, notebook sticking out between them. It was a good thing they wore black t-shirts, or their clothes would be as covered in pen marks as their hands were. They drew inspiration from every new experience and there had been a lot of them so far, which meant they were constantly working on new material. I’d witnessed them pull smaller ones from their pockets in the middle of meals to jot something down. That’s how seriously they took the opportunity they had to make their band successful. They might not have come together in the traditional way, but they were putting in the work and forging the same ties between them as if they’d formed in someone’s garage.

“We’re here. Figured you’d want to be the one to tell them about the place since you set this all up for them,” Pressley said. “Thanks again and for offering to look ahead for other stuff they can do to unwind.”

“Gotta keep our boys healthy and happy,” I murmured, petting Tony’s hair.

“You’re right about that. I’d better wake the rest of the guys.”

“Mmm, awake,” Tibby muttered, yawning as he sat up.

Sure enough, several pens hit the floor and scattered.

“Waas goin’ on?” Tony slurred.

“Time to wake up, Little Wren, we have rubber to burn and axes to throw,” I explained.

“Axes!”

Bowie forgot where he was and fell off the couch, the thud of his body hitting the floor of the bus was what finally prompted Tony to sit up and brush the hair off his face. Pressley rolled his eyes and muttered something that sounded like, I’m not caffeinated enough for this, before helping Bowie up.

“Yes, axes, now pay attention while Wolf explains,” Pressley said. “I’ll go wake up Claude.”