Encore to an Empty Room Read Free

my phone buzzes. A Twitter post:
    Toast & Jam @spreaditonthick 1m
    The son of Eli White steps out of the shadow.
    http://bit.ly/aWrh2 #dangerheart @catherinefornevr @livingwithghosts
    Oh, sweet! Finally, the blog post is up.
    After Caleb’s identity as Eli White’s son was revealed, we had to set up a separate account to deal with all the interview requests. Caleb didn’t want to do any of them; he doesn’t want Eli to overshadow him or the band, but I finally convinced him that the shadow was there whether we liked it or not. Do a search for Dangerheart and well over half the results are about Eli. It’s been driving the band crazy.
    And every day that the world has that conversation without us, the less chance we have of owning it. I pored over the different interview requests for weeks, looking for someone who wanted to write about Caleb, not just use him as a vehicle for talking about the tragic figure of Eli. And definitely not someone who would spend the whole time comparing the two, or the two bands.
    I’ve seen the draft of what Nellie is posting and it’s perfect. It doesn’t hurt that Toast & Jam has a national following. So hopefully it will calm the world down a little bit, which we need for two reasons: first, so that Caleb can relax and be himself and the band can function without weird expectations. And second . . .
    So that we can pursue our other, top secret agenda.
    Which is the real reason we’re eating burgers right now instead of watching the opening bands.
    I find Dangerheart in a back corner booth. They look cool sitting there together, shrouded in mystique. Seeing them makes me smile, but only Matt, the drummer, even notices me approaching. He smiles back. Everyone else is hunched over Jon’s tablet.
    Caleb has his head in his hands. Something’s bothering him. Probably preshow nerves. He gets them pretty bad, even though he’s really talented.
    â€œHey, guys.”
    â€œHey,” says Val, getting up so I can scoot in beside Caleb. She’s frowning, but that’s sort of her default position.
    What worries me is that everyone else is, too.
    â€œWhat’s up?”
    â€œWe’re looking at the interview,” Caleb mutters.
    â€œOh,” I say. “Cool. It’s good . . . right? I thought it was good.” I try to keep my energy positive, but it’s faltering, being sucked into the black-hole mood at this table.
    â€œWe haven’t even read it yet,” says Matt.
    â€œWe’re still just looking at that graphic at the beginning,” Jon adds.
    â€œGraphic?” Nellie didn’t send me a graphic.
    Caleb finally looks up. For just a second he smiles. “Hey,” he says. He rubs my leg. “I ordered you the jalapeño garden burger. Was that right?” He’s speaking quietly. It’s the tone his voice gets when he’s fighting his stormy insides, trying to find his center.
    â€œAlways.” I give him a quick kiss that makes a smile briefly grow on his face, and when he smiles, his nose wrinkles and his cheeks squint up against his dark eyes and it almost makes me want to look away, like he’s too beautiful, and I grip his hand tighter . . . but the smile flames out in an instant. He pushes the tablet toward me. “Check it out.”
    I see the Toast & Jam header, the title of the article, and between those two things there is a piece of graphic art, and . . . oh no.
    It’s a giant close-up on Eli White’s grizzled face, staring wounded into the camera, a few days unshaven, hair a mess, bags under his eyes. In front of that, small and only reaching up over Eli’s chin and mouth, is literally a tiny shadow silhouette of Caleb.
    â€œThat’s . . . ,” I say with a sigh. “Exactly the opposite of what we wanted. She never said she was going to do that!”
    I rub Caleb’s back, hoping to steady him. He pushes the pad toward Jon then takes my hand.