ASHLEY:

      "No way! That can't be right," I protest. "Why would she do that?" 

      "No idea, dude, but apparently she did," Johnny retorts. "Unless, of course, you're going to say that Marcia is lying."

      "Well, somebody obviously talked to them, but maybe she made a mistake. You did say that she didn't know the person's name, didn't you?"

      "Since you work there, you have Darren's number, right? For calling in sick and shi... I mean stuff," Rob interjects. "So just call and ask him, he knows everybody!"

      "That's not a half-bad idea, dude," Johnny tells him, pulling out his phone again and punching in a number. After a few seconds, he says, "Hey, Darren, it's Johnny Palmer. Yes, I know that, but I'm with Rob and Ash right now, and we were just hoping that you might be able to answer a question for us. Marcia said that one of the regulars came to the office and talked to you, and we were just wondering if you know who it actually was?"

      He clicks the speaker on, just in time for the rest of us to hear Darren give out sort of a sarcastic-sounding chuckle and say, "Well, if you actually have to ask me that, then I'm guessing that one of you is about to have a hell of an interesting afternoon. And I can tell from the echo that you've got this on speaker, so I assume the other guys are listening, am I right?"

      "Yeah, I figured that instead of having to repeat everything, I'd just let them hear you for themselves," Johnny confirms.

      "Well then, I guess I should pass a piece of advice on to you, Purdy," Darren says. "I highly recommend that in the future, you refrain from pissing off your piece of ass if you want to stay employed. You guys are a good draw, but you're not worth risking my business for, sorry. Maybe you'll have better luck somewhere else. And I'll mail you your last paycheck, Palmer. Now, if there's nothing else, I have to find a new band, and a new bartender, for this weekend."

      He ends the call, and I'm just standing here totally confused. Why the hell would she tell him about that, knowing what would probably happen? Everything seemed fine when I talked to her this morning

      And it seems like I'm not exactly going to get the chance to figure it out right now, because Rob and Dori are at it again, and Mrs. Anderson looks like she's about ready to pick up that ladle that Johnny had and smack both of them with it. 

      "Jeez, Dori, were you always this immature and I just spazzed on it, or is it a new thing?" he huffs, sounding totally frustrated.

      "Oh, come on, Dwyer, how is that a surprise?" Johnny snaps. "You must be living in a parallel universe if you're expecting maturity from a sixteen year-old girl."

      What none of us are actually expecting is for Rob to whip his head around toward Johnny so fast it makes me think of the possessed chick in 'The Exorcist', and literally growl, "What the hell did you just say?"

      Johnny just stares at him for a second, with a totally puzzled expression, then he facepalms, and almost groans, "Damn it, Dori, please tell me you didn't do what I think you did!"

      "And what exactly is it that you think she's done, Johnathan? Other than being cruel to someone who isn't as fortunate as she is, I mean?" Mrs. Anderson questions. Then, when she notices that Dori has been inching away, and has almost gotten to the back door, she snaps, "Stop right there, Midori June. Come back here immediately and tell me what this is about!"

      "I'll tell you what it's about," Rob barks. "It's about the fact that your daughter has spent the last five months lying her ass off, and telling me she was seventeen!" He turns back to Dori and snaps, "So what the hell were you trying to do, get me arrested or something?"

      "No, of course not!" she sobs. "You know I wouldn't do that! I just didn't want you to think I was some little kid!"

      "What I would like to know right now is how old you are, Robert," Dori's mom queries. "I'm curious as to whether there are any discrepancies on that subject."

      "Why don't you tell me first how old you think I am, and I'll tell you if you're right."

      Mrs. Anderson glances at Dori, who is already cringing. "Well, according to Midori, you've just turned nineteen."

      Johnny and Rob both facepalm this time, then Rob looks up at her again and says, "Sorry to have to tell you this, but nope. I'm twenty-two."

      A startled look crosses her face for a second before she frowns at him and says, "Well, this creates a problem. I'm sure you know that this is..."

      "Would illegal be the word you're looking for?" Johnny offers, earning a glare from Dori that should be melting him into the floor tiles.

      "Among others. Considering the circumstances, I won't be pressing the issue, but I hope you realize that you won't be permitted to see Midori again."

      "Mom!" Dori shrieks. "No, you can't do that! Rob, tell her she can't do that!"

      He doesn't even look in her direction as he responds, "Trust me, that won't be a problem, Mrs. Anderson. I'm not into liars, especially underaged ones."

      Dori bursts into tears and runs out of the room, and her mom just stands here rubbing her temples with her index fingers. Rob looks at me and says, "I need to get out of here, Ash. Don't you need to pick up your folks at the airport in a bit, anyway?"

      "Yeah, I do. Okay, I'll drop you at your place before I go, so we can leave whenever you're ready."

      He says goodbye to Johnny and Mrs. Anderson and practically bolts out the door, and I start to follow him, but then something that she said moves back to the front of my brain, so I pause. "If you don't mind my asking, what did you mean when you called Billy 'less fortunate'? I mean, her folks have a really nice house and everything, so I'm obviously missing something."

      She sort of cocks her head and sighs, then says, "I met Helen McCracken about a year and a half ago, when we wound up on the same fundraising committee, and I can't tell you how many times she took up meeting time bragging about Cyndee, and all of her activities. But we worked together for almost six months before any of us found out that she had another daughter, and that was only because we met at her house one day when school let out early, and Billy came home while we were there."

      "And I'm sure you've seen Cyndee's Mercedes, but did she tell you that it's her third new car since she turned sixteen? She got a Firebird for her sixteenth birthday, they traded it for a new Mustang for her eighteenth, and this one when she turned twenty-one. But when Billy turned sixteen, Rodney bought her a beat-up old Geo that was barely drivable, and when she got it fixed up he took it back and sold it for a profit. So now she has a little compact that's nearly as old as I am, which actually belongs to her employer, who lets her drive it so she can make it to school and work. This, among other things, is why I said what I did, Ashley. Billy is a very nice, responsible girl, and I simply thought I could depend on my daughter to be kind to her, since it seems that few others are."

      She excuses herself to go check on Dori, so I say goodbye to Johnny and head on out to my Dakota, where Rob is waiting for me. We get in and I drive back to his place to drop him off, but before he gets out, he says, "Ash, you do know that if it turns out that Darren and Marcia were telling the truth, the other guys are totally gonna shit bricks when they find out, right?"

      I drop my head onto the steering wheel and sigh. "Yeah, I know. But I can't come up with any reason for her to do that, so I'm going to talk to her after I get my grandparents, and see if I can get it straight."

      "Okay, but you're gonna have to call everybody pretty soon, cause you did have a gig scheduled for next week, and they're probably gonna need to grab some more hours at the day jobs or something to make up the money we're all gonna lose."

      "Yeah, I know that, too. Don't worry, if it turns out that it was Cyndee, I'll take care of it."

      He gets out, and as he starts to close the door, he pauses and says, "Y'know, I'm honestly not sure right now which one of us has been screwed worse. Apparently neither of us has much sense when it comes to women."

      After he closes the door, I pull back out into the traffic and head for the airport, trying to get my brain to stop spinning before I get there. This is the first time that Nan and Pop have been able to come out here, and I really don't want to start things off by showing up stressed and having them worrying about me, so I need to calm myself down a bit.

      I manage to find a parking spot not too far from the terminal, and go in to wait for the plane to be announced. I grab some coffee from Starbucks and stake out a spot by the baggage pickup to wait, then decide to call Cyndee while I'm waiting, but she doesn't answer. I also don't get a response when I text her, so I'm not sure if she's still at work or what, but between this and the fact that I haven't had any "stress relief" today, my nerves are almost ready to snap.

      I try several more times to get ahold of her over the next half hour or so, but then I hear the announcement that the flight from St. Louis has landed, so I shoot Pop a text letting them know where I am. Then after about ten minutes, I hear Nan's voice calling my name, and turn around to see them coming up behind me. I get hugged by both of them, and she spends a few minutes fussing over me, as usual, then we start hunting for their bags on the carousel.

      As they're watching for their suitcases, someone calls out, "Hey, Purdy! You comin' or goin'?" I turn around and see Brandi Jurgens, the singer for Double Deuce, one of the other bands that rotate through the clubs with us. My grandparents turn to look, and their eyebrows go up almost over their heads, because she's got the DD's that gave the band its name displayed front and center in a low-cut T shirt and a push-up bra. 

      "I'm here to pick up my grandparents. Who are you waiting for?" I ask, and then introduce her to Nan and Pop.

      "I'm going to see my brother and his girlfriend for the holidays, I'll probably come back after New Years. Then maybe I can get things back on track."

      "What do you mean? I thought that you guys were getting ready to put out a demo."

      "Yeah, we were, until the band fell apart," she sighs. "It's kinda hard to get anything done when you've got two band members who can't be in the same room without one of them trying to kill the other."

      Say what!? "How did I not know this? What the hell happened? And when?"

      "About a month and a half ago. Dave quit, and then Owen and Tony decided that they couldn't work with Ken anymore, so he got bounced. But not before he wound up with a broken nose and five stitches in his forehead."

      "Owen and Tony did that?" She shakes her head at the question and lets out a sarcastic laugh, and even as weird as the rest of my day has been, what she says next hits me like a kick in the balls.

      "No, Dave did it when he went home early one day and found Ken in his bed, balls-deep in his chick. The sad thing about it was that he was the only one who was really surprised, because the rest of us knew she'd end up screwing around on him with somebody at some point."

      Her flight gets called, so she says goodbye and takes off, and I grab the bags and lead my grandparents out to the parking lot. We put the suitcases into the back of the Dakota and get in, and as I start to pull out of the parking space, Nan asks, "Sweetie, are you feeling all right? You look sort of tense."

      "Yeah, I'm fine, I've just had a bit of a weird day," I tell her. "The band lost one of our regular gigs, and I kind of wound up being a spectator while one of my buddies broke up with his girlfriend a little while ago, so I guess I just need to unwind a bit."

      She seems to accept this, and then Pop says, "We've been looking forward to meeting this girl you've been talking about, Ash. Will she be coming by tonight, or are you going to wait until later?"

      "She's supposed to be at my place when we get there," I reply, as I force myself to resist the urge to bang my head repeatedly into the steering wheel. I'm going to have to get her alone at some point tonight and get some sort of explanation for everything I've heard today. Fuck, I could really use some blow right about now.

      I point out a few of the sights as we drive across town, and we talk about some things to do while they're here, before we finally pull into the lot in front of my building. I see the blinds twitch in my kitchen window, so I know that Cyndee is already here, and let Nan and Pop know this as we gather up their bags. I figure that she'll be waiting for us when we get inside, so I'm a little bit startled when she comes out the front door with a large tote bag slung over her shoulder, heading for her car.

      "Hey, babe, where are you going?" I inquire. "I thought you were going to have dinner with us tonight."

      "Sorry, Ash, but I'm outta here," she retorts. "I'm actually going to have a nice dinner with my boyfriend, at a restaurant that doesn't have a drive-through window."

      "What the hell are you talking about? I was under the impression that I was your boyfriend!"

      "You should be so lucky," she scoffs. "Oh, you're an excellent fuck, I'll grant you that, and you were fun to kill some time with while I was exploring my options, but I have plans for my future, and they don't include being held back by some lame-ass rock-star wannabe who's never gonna get past the bar scene."

      Every word out of her mouth is like a razor blade, and my brain feels like it's about to explode as I finally realize just how much I've let her play me. "So you did go talk to Darren today, didn't you? Why? I mean, even if you don't want to go out with me, why would you get the band fired? And just because you've managed to pull that off doesn't mean that I have any intention of giving up on something I've worked for since I was a kid. I have every intention of making a name for myself, so don't even try to tell yourself I won't!"

      "I did it because I like hanging out there, and it wouldn't be much fun anymore if I had to see you there all the time, now would it?" she fires back. "And it doesn't matter what you try to tell yourself, you're going nowhere fast. By this time next year, everybody is going to know who I am, and you'll still be just some nobody, living hand to mouth and wanting something that you'll never have."

      "I don't appreciate you speaking to my grandson like that, you snippy little brat," Nan interjects. " I think that..."

      "Oh, cool your jets, lady," Cyndee interrupts. Then a rather unpleasant grin appears on her face, and I instantly know what's coming next. "It's not like it actually matters anyway, y'know. Give him a couple of hours and he'll be so coked up he'll be lucky to remember his own fucking name, let alone anything I've said. I'm actually kind of surprised that he's lasted this long without a bump."

      My grandparents look completely stunned, and Cyndee pastes an obviously fake look of shock on her face and claps a hand to her mouth. "Oh, I wasn't supposed to say that, was I? Oopsie!" she says sarcastically, and by this point the maliciousness in her voice is almost acidic.

      She moves past me and continues on to her car, and as she opens the door, I ask, "Just tell me one thing, Cyndee. If you think so little of me, why did you approach me in the first place?"

      She pauses for a second, then replies, "You really want to know? Okay, I hooked up with you for two reasons. The first I already told you; I heard that you had skills, and I thought I'd try 'em out for myself. And secondly, because I knew that someone else who was hanging at the bar was interested in you, and I just wanted to prove to the ridiculous bitch that she didn't stand a chance against me. Happy now?"

      She gets into her car and drives off, and I turn back to my grandparents, who are still standing by the walkway, Pop's arm wrapped around Nan as he tries to comfort her. She looks at me, and the disappointment I see on her face makes me want to crawl under a rock. They don't try to lecture me, though, and Pop finally says, "Maybe we should go inside, and talk about this privately. No need to give your neighbors any more of a show than they've already had."

      We carry their stuff inside, and as I open the door, it's immediately obvious that things aren't right in here, but it takes a second before I can figure out exactly why. Then I realize that the table in the corner of the living room, where I keep my sewing machine and serger, is bare. "That fucking bitch!" I hiss, and start searching the rest of the apartment, only to find that both of my guitars and my amp are also gone. Pop insists that I call the police, so I do, and we sit down on the couch, sort of silently agreeing to table our talk about my "issues" until later.

      And as I sit here, waiting for the cops to show up, I suddenly hear, so clearly that I'm almost surprised that they can't hear it, too, Billy's voice in my head, saying, "Sooner or later, she's going to ass-fuck you with a rusty chainsaw, and you'll have no one to blame but yourself." My stomach clenches, and I almost feel like I'm going to throw up, because it's all too clear now that the poor kid was just trying to help me, and instead of listening, I treated her like shit, which makes me no better than Cyndee, which I absolutely cannot live with.

      Things have to change, and they have to change now. I've got to get my life back on track, or Cyndee might just end up being right about my chances, and I'm not gonna let that happen. So, starting right now, I work on becoming the best person I can be, the one who makes people feel better about themselves, not the one who tears them down. 

      I've always wanted people to like me, but now I need to be able to like myself again.