When Joe called the bar to see what happened to Simon, Nate's cousin Jeremy gave them the basics. Simon was assaulted on his way home the night before, a few blocks from where Joe and T had left him. He was discovered at dawn, barely conscious, beaten severely. He’d be okay but had serious injuries. T and Joe raced to University Hospital on 34th on the East Side. Tommy was waiting for them.

  "I'm so sorry, Tommy,” Joe said while walking into the waiting area. “We were out all day and didn't get your message."

  "It's been a long fucking day.” Tommy shook Joe’s hand, then used that hand to pull him in close. He whispered. “It’s bad, kid. He’ll get through it but it’s bad.” He leaned back and looked at Tina. “I got the call when I opened the bar. They said he was taken to Columbia Medical Center so I went there. It took an hour to find out he had been transferred. They have bone doctors here.”

  “Orthopedics,” Tina said, “he has broken bones.”

  Tommy nodded, “Several.”

  “I got here at noon, Simon was in surgery when I arrived. You just missed Zip and Judy. They'll be back tomorrow."

  "What happened? Who did this?" asked Tina.

  Tommy shrugged. "We assume it was that asshole he had a beef with last night?"

  "What, he stalked him after the show?"

  "I don't know. Who else could it be?"

  “Wait a second,” Joe said, thinking the night through. “That psycho waited an hour for us to leave your place, then he followed us to the diner, and then watched us eat and drink coffee for more than an hour, all to jump Simon over a hard shoulder?”

  Tommy nodded, “I guess. My guys were rough on him on the way out. He hit the sidewalk pretty hard.”

  “He stalked us,” Joe said, looking at Tina. “waiting for Simon to be alone.”

  “That’s creepy,” she said quietly.

  Joe looked at Tommy. “Simon had no clue. Off he went, not knowing he was being targeted.”

  “A man retrieving his newspaper found him alongside his stoop,” Tommy added. “He was semi-conscious, battered, and covered in blood.”

  “How did you find out?” Joe asked.

  “When paramedics were loading Simon into the ambulance, Beaner happened upon the scene.”

  “Do I know Beaner?” Joe asked, not recognizing the name.

  “He’s not a regular but he knows all our people. He said he was pretty sure it was Simon so he told a cop he thought he knew the victim. Then he gave them Simon’s name and the cop confirmed it.”

  “So they didn’t take Simon’s wallet?” Tina asked.

  “No,” Tommy said. “This was no robbery. It was personal. The medics told Beaner Simon was in bad shape. The kid went to his job and called the bar until I answered.”

  Tommy placed his hand on Joe’s shoulder. “I’m exhausted, guys, and hungry. I have to make some phone calls. Can you take over? It might be a while, but I’ll be back.

  “Of course,” Tina said, reaching out to Tommy. “You can go home and get some rest. We’ll call the bar in the morning and update you.”

  “Not yet. I’ll check back in. I need some food. Thanks, guys,” Tommy turned to walk away.

  “Hey,” Joe stopped him. “Has anyone contacted his family?”

  Tommy shook his head, “We don’t know anything about them. He never talks about his family except to say they're proper tight-ass snobs.”

  “Okay,” Joe waved. “We’ll keep watch.”

  Less than thirty minutes after Tommy left, a young doctor and an older nurse came out to provide a medical update.

  The doctor shook Joe’s hand. “Are you family?”

  “No, but we’re all he has in the city. We’ll try to help you reach his parents, they’re in England.”

  “That would explain his accent.”

  “He’s talking?”

  “Yes, but he’s coming out of a fog, the head injury and anesthesia. You can go in for a short visit. Your friend needs rest. He was in surgery for three hours. There will surely be more procedures after we evaluate his condition. He’s looking at months of recovery.”

  "Is he lucid?"

  "Yes, sort of.” The doctor looked at his watch, "He came out from under the anesthesia six hours ago. When he came to the police interviewed him. He did fine considering his condition but then he faded. We had to send the detectives away. They’ll be back in the morning. He woke up again a half hour ago.”

  “Detectives?” Joe asked, rhetorically.

  The nurse prepared him and Tina for the worst. “He’s a mess. Please, try to not react to his injuries. It’s not good for him to know, not yet.”

  Tina glanced at Joe. Her eyes expressed her concern. The nurse and doctor left to check on Simon. When the nurse summoned them she held the door, whispering as they passed, “Only a few minutes.”

  Joe and Tina approached slowly, bracing themselves. It was horrible. The bandages covered the worst but his eyes were blood red. All exposed skin was bruised. They didn’t react. Joe stood quietly and looked him in the eye.

  “I’m so sorry Simon. We feel terrible.”

  Simon didn’t speak but his swollen lips curled into a smile.

  “I want to hug you,” Tina held back tears, “but I don’t know what hurts.”

  “Everything is numb,” he said, barely audible. “I’m on good drugs. I’ll take that hug sweetheart.”

  T gently put an arm on each side and leaned in slowly.

  “Oooo, no,” he moaned in pain causing Tina to pull back.

  “Oh, I’m sorry Simon,” She pleaded for forgiveness.

  Simon almost laughed but it pained him. “I’m just having at ya luv. Haha. Owww, my ribs. I can’t breathe, never mind laugh.”

  Tina huffed. “Why do you guys do shit like that? It's not funny at all, not at a time like this.”

  “Yeah, it’s funny,” Joe nodded. “definitely funny.” Joe was glad to see Simon was in good enough spirits to joke. “T,” He looked at her. “It’s a good sign.” He took her hand as she pouted.

  “The good news,” Simon said, “is they didn’t break six fingers or either thumb. I can play with those.”

  “That’s the least of our concerns. Broken fingers might be an improvement.”

  It horrified Tina that Joe made a joke so she punched him for it.

  “Oh, he can joke… at a time like this, but I can’t?”

  Simon smiled, trying to not laugh. When he began telling them what happened Joe tried to stop him but he continued.

  “It’s a bloody short story. I was unconscious in round one. Most of this lovely rearranging happened when I was having a slumber."

  Simon saw two men but it could've been three. He wasn’t sure. One guy had a pipe or some blunt instrument. That weapon shattered Simon’s face. He had a fractured skull, broken cheekbone, cracked eye socket, and a busted nose. He had two broken ribs, two cracked, and a few were bruised. His back and torso were covered in welts and deep bruises. There were two broken fingers on one hand.

  After the initial encouraging tone, it turned somber as the sight of their battered friend sank in. It was hard to not show emotion. Tina had a, ‘I’m gonna go look out the window moment’, so Simon wouldn’t see her tears. They sat with Si until the nurse kicked them out. Joe promised Simon he’d be back as soon as he could. It was difficult leaving his friend like that.

  Joe and Tina ran into Tommy outside the hospital. He vented. Tommy was pissed off at the NYPD who had left hours ago.

  “They just don’t give a fuck about a punk getting battered,” he fumed. “Oh well, no witnesses, 3 AM, it’s probably gonna go unsolved. The fucking cop said that twelve hours after it happened. Good work officer, nice try, maybe we’ll get the next one. Fuck the police.”

  Tommy mentioned they might have one lead to follow. “They ripped his R.A.F. leather off his back. That’s a one-of-a-kind jacket, old and worn. He put those studs in himself. It’ll be easy to identify. It has the Union Jack and R.A.F. insignia on the arms, and pilot wings on the breast. Find that jacket and we find the thugs.”

  Their walk and subway ride home was mostly silent. Joe had some rough days dealing with the nastiness of New York. Johnny's problems made him want to leave but then he met Tina. She changed everything. The city’s daily assault seemed less severe with her in his life. The truth was, it saved the most brutal blow for the final night.

  —- STAYING BEHIND —-

  Back at the apartment, Joe’s head was spinning. He had too much on his mind; Simon, Johnny, Sal, and the future of his band. He would get no sleep that night. His bandmates stumbled in after 1 AM. Joe got up to break the news about Simon. He noticed Johnny had a bruise on his temple and a small egg on his forehead.

  “What happened to you?”

  “Nothing," Johnny said. "Hey, man, I’m sorry about Simon. I’m gonna get some sleep. Good night.”

  “Good night.” Joe looked at Sal as Johnny closed the bedroom door behind him. “What’s up with that?”

  Sal whispered. “He tried to slip away to 1B. I let him go to see if the druggie would keep his word. He wouldn’t open his door but the guy in 1C did and when Johnny wouldn’t shut up that dude knocked him on his ass.”

  “Holy fuck. How bad?”

  “I think it was one punch. He banged his head going down.”

  “But Dougie the druggie kept his word." Nate smiled.

  At that moment, Joe made a decision. “I'm staying behind to support Simon.”

  “You think the fucking doctors can’t handle it?” Sal asked in a tone Joe didn’t like.

  “He has no family here. I’ll take the train back in a few days.”

  “We came down here as a band. We should leave together.”

  “What the fuck, Sal? Do I need to hold your hand on the highway?”

  “I think your priorities are fucked up.”

  “What priorities?”

  Sal leaned in and whispered, “We have to get Johnny home.”

  “And you’ll do that. My sitting in the van adds nothing. You need to tell John Senior his son is on heroin and he needs to get Johnny back in rehab.”

  Sal glared at Joe. “I know what I need to do and I’ll do it. What are you gonna do for Johnny?”

  “Not put him in a place where he’s tempted. This band is done until he’s recovered.”

  Tina’s smile at the news Joe was staying made his decision easier. The following afternoon, as they loaded gear into the van, Sal complained up and down the stairs, pulling Joe aside twice, trying to change his mind. Johnny eavesdropped in the stairwell when he heard his name so Joe let him overhear his point of view.

  “I’ve told you already. If Johnny’s fucked up I’m not playing. I don’t care if this is the end of the band.”

  “You’re full of shit. You built this. The band is your baby.”

  “I have all the tools to do it again, the songs, the ideas, and the connections. I’ll start over.”

  That made Sal pause. He steeled his eyes. “You wouldn’t.”

  “Try me. You get Johnny home and tell his old man that Junior needs rehab. If he can’t clean up I’m fucking done.”

  They were standing on the third-floor landing, Johnny one flight below, taking it all in.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  Sal pointed his finger into Joe’s chest. “Don’t make any stupid decisions. We’ll talk when you get back.”

  He pushed past Joe to grab the last of the gear. When Johnny came up he looked Joe in the eyes and then turned away.

  “Hey, Johnny.” Joe put a hand on his shoulder. “I love you, man, but you’ve to get better. I’m serious, brother. I can’t do this.”

  Johnny wasn’t the only one overhearing Joe’s threat. Tina was just inside her apartment door. When the guys drove off and they were alone, she had questions.

  “Are you serious about quitting the band?”

  “I won’t play with an addict. I’ve told Sal that a few times now. I’ve had enough. If he doesn’t kick the heroin and Sal won’t wake the fuck up… yeah, I’m done.”

  “You’d start another band?”

  “I’m in no hurry to decide but when Simon recovers he’ll be the first man I call."

  Before returning to University Hospital to check in on Simon, Joe has one unpleasant phone call to make. He had promised Jackie he’d be home by Labor Day and the first day of school for the girls.

  “What do you mean you’re staying longer?” Jackie asked. “Last week you said you’d be home this week.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry but a friend had an accident Friday night and I want to make sure he’s okay.”

  “What friend?”

  “A guy I met here, Simon. He’s in bad shape. I just need a few days, maybe a week. I’ll take the train back.”

  “The train? Sal isn’t staying?”

  “No. The band left an hour ago. It’s just me.”

  “Why you? Why are you staying and they’re not?”

  “Because Simon is more my friend than theirs. Look, sis, I’m sorry this trip hasn’t gone the way I expected but I promise I’ll be home soon.

  “Your promises don’t seem to mean anything anymore.”

  That last line cut Joe. He had never broken a promise to his sisters, mostly because he never made promises he couldn't keep. A promise was never something he took lightly. When he hung up the phone Joe felt like the worst brother.

  -—-- VISITING HOURS —--

  On the subway to his next hospital visit, Joe thought back on his stay in New York. It was an exciting opportunity, a chance to play in the city where punk rock was born. After a great start, meeting people and finding new venues, it all went to shit. Johnny had become addicted to heroin. The cold war between Sal and Joe had turned hot. He no longer trusted his bandmates. Everything they had built had fallen apart in fifty-three days. On top of that, his best friend was in the hospital, beaten to a pulp.

  It turned out that Simon’s good spirit the night before was painkillers talking. During breakfast, shortly before Joe arrived, he had gotten up to use the bathroom for the first time. When he took a long look in the mirror the man staring back horrified him and he knew the worst was hidden by bandages.

  It was difficult to find words to lift Simon’s mood when Joe himself was feeling down but he tried. He did find comfort in friends stepping up to help Simon. Over the first two days, he ran into punks coming and going, usually in pairs, Zip and Judy, Clyde and Sunny, Monk and Jett. Tommy was coordinating the crew to make sure someone visited Simon every day. His doctor was planning a second surgery on his facial injuries. The surgery on his fractured skull was complete. Broken ribs and fingers would mend.

  The silver lining around his NYC trip was Tina. She was amazing. T accompanied him to the hospital when she could but once NYU classes had begun her schedule was full. In addition to school, she had accepted a part-time position at Midtown art gallery and studio. Tina was excited about the opportunity to work with professional artists.

  —- LANA LA LA LA LA LANA —-

  Joe returned from the hospital on the second day to find Tina’s roommate unpacking. Lana was a little put off when learning upon her arrival that a strange man was staying with them. She viewed Joe with a suspicious eye. It was an awkward hour. Once she was settled in the interrogation commenced.

  Lana was black, tallish, fit but curvy, with braided hair to the middle of her back. She had a not-taking-any-shit attitude that was slightly intimidating. Tina had warned Joe that Lana was a man-skeptic, and the fact Joe was a musician didn’t help his cause. T sat quietly by his side as her best friend since grade school grilled him. After a few softball questions, she turned up the heat.

  “So, you’re on the road a lot, in motels?”

  “We don’t do long tours, but yeah, we use motels.”

  “You must meet a lot of girls at these college bars.”

  He knew this line of questioning was coming. “I do.”

  She stared, expecting him to elaborate. He knew it was never wise to offer unsolicited information during an interrogation.

  “Have you fucked groupies?”

  Tina jumped in. “Okay, I think you can stop now.”

  Joe looked at T. “I’ll answer her questions. Yes, I’ve slept with a few girls on the road.”

  “How many are a few?”

  T put her hand on Joe’s arm. “You don’t have to answer this, Joe.”

  “Four.”

  “I suppose knowing the number is a good sign,” Lana said.

  “I don’t think four girls in seventeen months is anything to be ashamed of.”

  “He’s never had a one-night stand," said Tina. "Can you believe that?”

  “Neither have you.” Lana snickered sarcastically. “You’re the perfect couple.”

  Joe passed her first round of scrutiny but he got the sense he was not yet fully vetted. She gave him the side eye for days. He was constantly being evaluated. He liked Lana. She shared his teasing sense of humor. He saw her mischievous side from the start. When T was affectionate with Joe in front of her, Lana rolled her eyes.

  “Here we go again.”

  “What does that mean?” Joe asked.

  “When she has a boyfriend she’s like a little girl with a new puppy.”

  Tina gave Lana a dismissive wave. “Don’t listen to her. She’s jaded and jealous.”

  “No. I’m not blinded by girly emotions.”

  Joe smiled at Lana. “So T, How many puppies have you had?”

  “Don’t do this. It’s what she wants. She’s messing with you.”

  Lana smiled. “Don’t let all this affection go to your head, Joe.”

  “Don’t listen to her, Joe,” Tina said. “She’s a troublemaker.”

  After Joe had prepared a couple of meals, Lana joked she could get used to having a manservant around. On the fifth night, they had a few drinks, got high and things got silly with them teasing Tina.

  “She told me you have a fantastic dick,” Lana said.

  “What?” Joe looked at T, faking shock. “You talked about my dick?”

  “Oh please," Tina said, "As if you don’t talk to the guys.”

  “No, I don’t. I’m not a trashy trollop… kissing and telling.”

  Lana cracked up as Tina’s jaw dropped. “I am not a trollop. Who uses words like that?”

  “You notice she didn’t protest you calling her trashy?” Lana said.

  “She’s a Catholic schoolgirl,” Joe smirked. “There’s a little trash in all of them.”

  Tina pointed a finger at Joe. “I told you to lay off the Catholic crap.”

  “We went to Catholic school together," Lana said. "I know the secrets.”

  “It's no secret," Joe said. "I was raised a Papist. I’ve known my share of school girls.”

  “So I talked about your dick. You should be flattered, and I call bullshit on you not talking about sex. Men are pigs.”

  “The next time you see Simon, feel free to ask. It’s kind of an inside joke with the band.”

  “Like I said,” Lana put her hand on Joe’s arm. “Don’t let this go to your head. She’s always talking about dicks. Here a dick, there a dick, everywhere a fat dick.”

  “Oh my God!” Tina threw a pillow at her. “Why would you say that? He’s gonna think…”

  “What, you like dicks?" Joe laughed. "I already know that.”

  After that night, Lana and Joe were cool. She pulled him aside to tell him a not-so-secret. “She’s crazy about you and she’s loyal. You’ll never have to worry about her.” She steeled her eyes and put her finger in his chest. “But, if you ever hurt my girl I’ll hunt your ass down and beat you senseless.”

  Tina had an orientation the following morning. Joe sat with his Jaguar, playing at low volume. Lana was in the shower. When she emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, she stopped and listened. He didn’t notice her at first.

  “Lola, L-O-L-A, Lola, la la la la Lola.” he strummed a little harder, then realized he had an audience. He stopped playing. “Sorry.”

  “Sorry for what,” Lana furrowed her brow. “Go on. Don’t let me stop you.”

  “Yeah, no.” He shook his head. “I don’t sing well like this. I need to belt out the lyrics. Otherwise, my voice s shit.”

  “You sounded okay to me,” she smiled. “Turn it up.”

  Joe reached over to his amp and turned the knob from 2 to 3. He fiddled with the volume on the guitar and began playing. Lana watched while drying her braids. When he got to the chorus, he changed the words.

  “Lana, L-A-N-A, Lana, la la la la Lana.”

  Tina opened the door just as he belted out those lyrics. She looked at Joe, then at Lana in her towel. Joe stopped playing. Lana smiled at her. Tina closed the door behind her and set books down on the side table by the phone.

  “I can’t believe you’re singing to her. You’ve never done that for me.”

  “You’ve never asked.”

  Her hands went to her hips. “I have to ask? And what’s with Lana, L-A-N-A, Lana? You’re singing about her?”

  “It’s Lola,” Joe said defensively. “I was just messing around.”

  “I know the song, Joe.”

  Joe looked at Lana and then Tina. He reached over and turned his amp off. Tina stared at him. Lana stared at Tina. Joe set his guitar down and stood up.

  “Are you jealous? He asked.

  “No. I just think it’s… strange that you’d sing to my roommate and not me.”

  “She’s jealous,” Lana said with a smirk. “So, you haven’t seen this side of her.” Lana nodded.

  “I’m not jealous.”

  “You’re jealous.” Lana looked at Joe. “She’s jealous. You better get used to it.” Lana smiled and walked into her room. When the door closed behind her, Tina walked over to Joe.

  “I’m not jealous.” She kissed him on the cheek.

  After a week of hospital visits, it was clear Simon had plenty of support. The hard punks were Joe’s new heroes. Tommy visited almost every day. His punks took shifts. With Tina and Lana busy with school, it was time for Joe to go home and deal with his band problems. First, he had one final mission.

  —-- STOLEN - REWARD - NO QUESTIONS —-

  Weeks ago, after Joe had commented on Simon’s Royal Air Force flight jacket, Simon insisted it was genuine WW2 leather. He explained that his uncles served in the RAF during the war, one didn’t survive but he offered no details at the time.

  On his last day in town, Joe sat by his hospital bed, with Tommy present, seeking more information. “Your RAF leather was your uncle’s jacket?” Joe asked.

  “No. It was a gift from my Uncle Edward. He flew bomber missions over Germany. His older brother George flew Spitfires.”

  “What side of the family?” Joe asked.

  “My dad’s the youngest of four. He wasn’t old enough to serve. Even his sister was a nurse at an airfield in Filton. He’s still bitter that he missed the fight.”

  “I’m still bitter I was sent to fight,” Tommy said. TG was a marine in Vietnam.

  Simon went somber. “George didn’t come home. He was lost over the channel. I look exactly like him and that chafes my father.”

  “When did you get the jacket?” Tommy asked. “Was it your uncle’s?”

  “No. He would never give his leather away. As a kid, I admired Uncle Edward’s flight jacket. On my sixteenth birthday, he took me to an Army surplus store. My dad hated that too. He said the uniform should be earned.”

  “What’s the deal with your old man?” Joe asked. “He sounds like a hard ass.”

  “He is. My father is a know-it-all. His opinions are the only ones that matter and he loves knocking other people down for their shite opinions. Or in my case, choices he disapproves of.”

  Joe looked at Tommy, then Simon. “I know you called them. Is someone coming over to check on you?”

  “My Mum is flying over. I don’t know when, but soon.”

  After visiting with Simon, Joe and Tommy returned to the club. Tommy kept a Polaroid camera behind the bar. From time to time he’d insert a film cartridge and let the punks shoot. The best of these photos were displayed on the Wall of Shame, a corkboard that ran the length of the hallway leading to the restrooms. There was always a line for the ladies' room, so Tommy gave them something to look at, instant photos of drunk punks partying, business cards, playbills, and fliers. Simon appeared in many, usually in his leather. Joe selected three photos that best showed the RAF patch, Union Jack, and the clusters of seven small leather studs Simon has affixed to the top of each shoulder. He brought them to a print shop to have a flier made.

  STOLEN - $100 REWARD for any information leading to the recovery of this brown leather, custom studded, RAF flight jacket - No questions asked.

  Joe provided the hard punks with five hundred fliers to post around Hell’s Kitchen, Chelsea, and The Village. The no-questions assurance was bullshit. He had it printed but made it clear to Simon’s friends, “We’ll be asking fucking questions.”

  Two days later, after Joe had gone home. Tommy gave Simon a copy. “We have eyes on the ground,” Tommy said. “This flier is in dozens of subway stations.”

  “It’s in bars and markets too,” added Zip. “It’s probably the only chance we have of getting the asshole who did this to you.”

  “I talked to the cops this morning,” Tommy said. “They have nothing and I don’t think they give a fuck.”

  —- TEARS —-

  After settling his flier business at Tommy’s, Joe returned to Jones Street with pizza. He told his roommates he was taking the night off as manservant because he had an early train to catch. That’s how he informed Tina he was going back to RI. She didn’t like it.

  “You’re leaving in the morning, just like that? You didn’t tell me.”

  “I just did. My train is in fourteen hours.”

  “That seems like sufficient notice to me,” Lana said, with a cheese sticking to her lip.

  “Mind your business,” Tina glared at her.

  “Hey, T.” Joe looked her in the eye, an earnest gaze. “I was here for an extra week. Simon is improving. He has people checking in daily. His mother is making arrangements to fly over. I met Lana. Now I have shit to deal with back home. You have classes all week and a new job. What am I gonna do all day? My sisters are pissed off at me. I have to go home.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I wish I could stay. Believe me. There’s probably less stress here.”

  After pizza, they retired to their purple and pink sanctuary. Joe held her, giving her a rough estimate of how long he might be in Providence, considering all possibilities.

  “If Johnny goes to rehab I have no clue how long that is but I assume it’s weeks or a couple of months. I’ll come back sooner if he’s gone that long.”

  “Like when?”

  “I don’t know. I have to go back to figure this out.”

  “I’m gonna miss you so much. I love you, Joe.”

  Joe sighed. “I guess one of us had to say it first. I’m glad it was you.” He had big eyes.

  “I never saw this coming,” she said. “You came out of nowhere.”

  “I came out of that bedroom.” He pointed toward Lana’s room.

  She poked him for his dumb joke. She looked up at him. Joe watched her expression slowly turn to concern. He waited another moment. She squirmed uncomfortably, then he let her off the hook.

  “I loved you the day we met.”

  She lightly punched his chest. “I wish you wouldn’t joke like that.”

  The following morning, Joe stood in the bedroom, in his underwear, packing his duffel bag and backpack. “I’m gonna leave my amp here,” he said. “I won’t be needing it for a while. And my white Tele. I’m taking the Jag home.”

  “What if you want to play?”

  “I’m thinking about buying a new amp, something with more oomph than my Champ. Can I leave some clothes in your closet?” He winced. “I know that’s valuable real estate but I bought too many things here and can’t take them all back.”

  “I’ll work out a rental agreement and you can pay me.” She reached down, cupping his package. “I’m sure we can come to some agreement.”

  “Sex for a few clothes hangers? I told ya, you Catholic girls are easy.”

  She squeezed his bulge hard, “I am not easy!”

  “Okay, okay… but every negotiation with you has sex on the table.”

  Tina hugged him. “I’m gonna hate sleeping alone.”

  “You slept alone before you met me.”

  “Yes, but now that I have you… it’s different.” Tina kissed him. “My first class isn’t until 11:45. You could take a later train. We have time…” She squeezed his package.

  Lying in bed after a sweaty hour of bon voyage sex, Tina lay with her head on Joe’s chest. “Tell me about your sisters. You haven’t said much about them. I know their names and ages but not about them.” She kissed his nipple and looked up, “And I know you love them.”

  “You have no idea. They're everything to me and I feel awful that I broke promises. They look up to me and they trust me. It’s gonna be hard when I get back. Mom will be brutal. I’ll get the Catholic guilt trip, drama, and judgment but not from the girls. They’ll just be disappointed that I let them down… especially Jackie.”

  “Tell me about her.”

  “She’ll be fifteen in November. Jackie surprises me all the time with her maturity. She’s pragmatic and responsible and she has incredible… I guess intuition is the right word. The guy that ends up with her will have his hands full. He won’t get away with shit. Jackie is tough.”

  “What about Julie? She’s the second one, right?”

  “Yes. She’s almost the opposite of Jackie. Jules is very sensitive and she’s a bit whiny at times. She’s a bookworm, always reading, loves to learn, and has endless curiosity. Jeanie does too. They’re always asking questions as if I know everything. Jules is also kind of needy. As I said, the opposite of Jackie.”

  “And Jeanie?”

  “She’s my flakey sister. Jeanie is fun and creative. She loves singing and dancing. Of the three, she’s the most positive. She never says a bad thing about anyone. She reminds me so much of…” Joe stopped, deciding to not mention Janie. He had not yet told Tina of his loss. “Jeanie is the free spirit in the family.”

  There was a long silence. Tina held him close. “Ya know. It sounds like they’re each a part of you. They all have something you have. You’re responsible and pragmatic, like Jackie. Jules is bookish and sensitive, and so are you.” Tina raised her head to look at Joe. “And the creativity and fun and singing is something you share with Jeanie.”

  Tina crawled up to kiss Joe. “It sounds like you’re a compilation of your sisters.”

  “I never thought of that.”

  When it was time for Joe to leave, he stood in the doorway with as much as he could carry. It killed him that Tina was sobbing.

  “I promise I’ll be back soon,” he said. “As soon as I get back to Providence I’ll assess the band situation. Then I’ll start planning my future depending on what’s going on there.”

  “After that, I get two weeks a month,” she said weepily.

  “Once the band is whole again, whenever that is.” Joe pulled her close. “Remember, I want to see you as much as you want to see me.”

  “Sleeping alone is going to suck?”

  “I know, baby.” It killed him to see her tears.

  Sitting in Penn Station waiting for his Amtrak ride north, Joe did what he’d been doing for days. He pondered what he might walk into when he arrived home; his mother, his sisters, his band, and someone he hadn't considered for weeks, Claire. He had no clue how bad it would be but he was bracing for the worst. He hoped that all the work he'd done to build his band wasn’t shattered.