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  Morning introduced itself to me with sunlight poring through the frosted glass of the door and a searing headache and hangover. I felt pretty sick to my stomach and I reeked. Good! I deserve no less.

  I grabbed my purse and keys that were laying on the floor beside me and put them on the table by the door. My head was pounding with the exertion from merely standing up.

  Squinting my eyes, I made my way upstairs and I quietly checked on June in the nursery and Tammy in the guest room, both sleeping.

  I went into my bedroom and sat at my computer desk then pulled my phone from my pocket. I turned it back on and looked at the screen. Thirty seven text messages I bulk deleted without looking. Forty four voice messages, thirty one from Sarina, bulk deleted, twelve from miscellaneous news agencies, bulk deleted, and one from Terry. Ah that's the one. I grabbed a pen and paper and played his message, getting the flight number and other pertinent info. Boston here I come.

  I slowly made my way into the bathroom of the master bedroom, checking myself in the mirror of the medicine cabinet, I looked like crap and my head was pounding. I opened the medicine cabinet and grabbed the bottle of aspirin and popped a couple of them in my mouth, dipping my head into the sink and drinking some water from the faucet to force them down. I shed myself of my clothes, throwing them in the hamper in the corner and started the shower.

  After getting out of the shower, and getting dressed, I packed my suitcase and went downstairs. Spending the next couple hours in the kitchen on various phone calls setting things up for my departure and situating things for Tammy. I was like an atomoton, trying not to think about anything, not allowing myself to feel anything.

  Tammy wandered into the kitchen with June on her hip. She handed June over when I put my arms out for her, she grabbed onto my blouse with her tiny hands and I just rocked her, taking deep breaths.

  Tammy dodged her head down a bit to catch my eye “Are you sure about this, Mandy? I'm scared for you.” I gave her a reassuring nod trying not to show any uncertainty and replied “I have added more funds to the household account that you have access to, just keep her and yourself safe and happy. Money is no object. Don't be shy about spending, and take your salary from it too. The car key is on the counter. Feel free to use it all you need. I added you to the car insurance and health insurance this morning. You are already a caregiver on June's healthcare plan. All of the info to access everything, and all the ways to contact me are on the sheet of paper under the key.”

  June was kicking a bit and starting to cry, so I rocked her and stroked her cheek, calming her. Tammy just stared at me as I continued, her eyes were watering a bit, I had to fight back the tears swelling in my eyes as well “Maybe distancing me from the destruction I have wreaked on that dear family will have lessened by then. I'll be back in twenty five days and will start the process of finding a new home in a different city then. I'd like if you stayed on with June and I when we leave, she is very fond of you.”

  I really hoped she would stay with us, I know how much she has already bonded with June, and I, in the short time she has been with us. I was just grasping to any form of stability I could at that time.

  She looked like she was going to cry. “You know I will, Mandy. I love the two of you, and a lot of other people here do as well.” I shook my head. “I'm a monster.” Then there was a knock on the door. I gave June one last kiss on the cheek and handed her back to Tammy, who put her on her hip, bobbing her gently up and down.

  I grabbed my purse and my suitcase and walked to the door, Tammy trailing behind me. I peeked out the window by the door to make sure it was a cab and not a damn reporter. Then I turned back to the girls and kissed June goodbye “Goodbye baby”, a tear falling from my eye, and raised to kiss Tammy on the cheek. “Thank you.” I whispered almost inaudibly as I turned away.

  I opened the door and started out, the cab driver taking the bag from my grasp, placing it in the open trunk as we got to the shiny yellow cab. I sat in the back and shut the door as the cabbie slid in the front seat. As we drove off , I watched the house shrink in the distance. God, I need to get drunk!

  Chapter 9 – Oceans Of Blue

  I don't remember much of the plane ride or the next couple days getting set up for the tour, my manager lining up a backing band. I was pretty much stone cold drunk the entire time. I tried a few hookups to keep HER out of my mind but I couldn't bring myself to seal the deal. I needed to get lost in the life again, shut her out, but I couldn't bring myself hurt her more. What the hell is going on with me?

  I just about tore the head off of my publicist and spat down his neck when he invoked HER name. Implying we should use the scandal for publicity. I was very polite to him as I was firing him, I think the general theme was “Don't you ever say her fucking name again! You have no right!” with Terry and my drummer holding me back as I was screaming at him that he was fired, my arms flailing. That went well, I think.

  Every day there was a voice message from Tammy, which I listened to for the updates on June... and a voice message from Sarina that I deleted without listening to. I just got into the habit of deleting all my text messages without reading them after accidentally reading one from Sarina, [we need 2 talk] It made me start to feel again and I couldn't bring myself to do that.

  The first night of the tour I sat on the uncomfortable wooden stool in my dressing room, after the makeup and hair harpies finished with me, drunk off my ass. I looked around, judging by the racks full of costumes and boxes of props stacked against one wall, it seems this was a costume storage room for the venue that they just commandeered as my private area.

  As I scanned past the counter and mirror beside me, I froze when I saw a blue vase with a single daisy in it. My favorite. What the hell? My mindset changed a bit. I felt a little calmer for some reason, a tiny bit of the tension and anger seemed to bleed from me.

  I grabbed the little placard attached to a lanyard off the counter and placed it around my neck and tucked it in under my torn band shirt. I looked at myself in the mirror, my torn black jeans and converse completed that old look from a year ago, back when I was in the rocker life.

  I stumbled out to the bustling hallway leading to the stage, running my hand down the painted cinder block walls, backstage people and stagehands parting out of my way as I approached. That's right, out of my way! Venue security guards in tow. A timid sound guy handing me my earpiece.

  Once I got on stage the crowd was on their feet cheering and whistling. I didn't even address them, I just grabbed my electric guitar looked back at the band and nodded to the drummer and like an explosion we started with one of my harder, almost metal songs. I just wanted to drown out my thoughts, to stop from thinking, this number should do that. I stumbled once like the lush I was. The song wasn't helping me, I could still hear my thoughts, my guilt. I just stopped playing mid-song, to the murmuring confusion of the crowd.

  The crowd was getting louder, people were staring to shout questions as I just wandered over to my instruments and pulled out my acoustic, I glanced over to my confused band, questions creasing their faces and eyes. People were getting restless as I dragged the mic over to one of the speakers off to the side of center stage and sat on the speaker cabinet. Then I spoke to the crowd, who quickly went quiet.

  “We're going to mix things up a little bit here, that last song just wasn't what I want to share with you guys. I wrote this one last night, it's for a person, who helped me become a better person, then I hurt them beyond words. It's the type of song my manager doesn't want me to sing. Tough shit.” The crowd cheered and whistled at that. The audience settled as I continued “It's about getting lost in their eyes, everyone, this is 'Oceans of Blue'.” I closed my eyes and played the ballad, my band catching the tone and played softly, letting the acoustic take the song. I sang with all my feelings, feelings I shouldn't have. That's why I'm here right? For punishment, so I don't have to feel anymore.

  The vibrations came from the speaker and I used them
to guide my voice, anything to touch her world again. I soared over the chorus and twisted through the lyrics, it wasn't enough to convey my sorrow over hurting her. I put more into it, cascading down to the finish and I opened my eyes. When it was done, the crowd was silent for a very long moment. God they hated it.

  I dropped my head, but then then I snapped it back up when I was almost deafened by the roar. The crowd was going insane, people cheering, whistling, throwing their hands in the air. You could feel the excitement in the air, it was almost tangible. That was for you Bella.

  Still sitting on my speaker, I turned to the band and mouthed “follow me” they looked consternated and confused, but nodded back. I then went on to sing Throw-Away, I don't know why, I couldn’t tell exactly what I was thinking. My buzz was ebbing, I didn't want to sober up. But I didn't want to pull out the heavy rock numbers we had selected. The crowd went wild again.

  I knew that I was drunk, but is just seemed to me that the crowd was responding differently than in the past, like there was more energy and appreciation of the last two songs. These were my songs, not that damn Mandy Harris'.

  I held up three fingers indicating which number in our original hard rock set the band was to play next. The drummer counted us off then we kicked in, but then I stuttered and immediately stopped mid chord. I couldn't do this, it's not who I friggin' am any more, I'm not this make believe person. I inhaled sharply and stood, taking the mic out of the stand.

  The crowd again was all murmurers, I heard one person shouting an obscenity over the confusion. I glanced over backstage to see Terry freaking out, his hands waving at me with the stagehands standing, not knowing what to do.

  I stood for a second then spoke in the mic to the crowd, “You know what? To hell with all this old crap! You people wanna hear some new Mandy Harris songs? Wanna hear the real me?” Cheering started, it was going out of control. I waited for it to die down a bit as I wandered over to my guitar stand “Well this is Mandy Fay Harris!” I could do this. I could show them who I should have been. I was so scared.

  I pulled out some copies of the hand written music from the sheath by my guitar stand. Songs I had tried to get the label to sign off on over the years, ones that didn't “fit” their vision for me. Mostly softer, soulful, emotional rock. I passed sheets around to the band “Just try to keep up, simple transitions, nothing fancy.” I yelled to be heard over the still cheering crowd. The band quickly looked the sheets over, smiling and nodding.

  You could feel the excitement radiating from the audience, the thrill of hearing original, unheard songs from me, I sat back down on the speaker and replaced the mic in the stand. I held my hand up for the crowd and they quieted down and I started to play.

  I stayed acoustic the entire night, sitting on that damn speaker that I couldn't live without anymore. Song after song, I got huge reactions, I was positive by then that the crowd was more enthusiastic than any other concert I had performed. After the last song I just dropped my guitar into the crowd and wandered off the stage toward my dressing room, ignoring the stagehands, venue manager and Terry, until I got into my dressing room. Terry came in as I sat on the stool by the counter.

  Terry was there fuming. “What the hell was that!?” I just looked at him and grabbed my open, half empty bottle of Jack, and started drinking, picking at the loose threads on my pant leg with my other hand. He opened his mouth to speak again and I cut him off “Oh shut the hell up, Terry, listen to that out there. You hear that crowd? That's what I should have been doing this whole time.” He did take a moment to listen to the cheering that was still gong on before he wordlessly walked out, deep in thought.

  I chugged some Jack and sat around a few minutes, gaining the courage to face the hoard. I could feel my buzz returning. I set the bottle down on the counter and stood, taking a ragged breath I made my way out into the hall and headed toward the back door to make my way to my private tour bus. Backstage staff parting for me like the red sea, ever present security shadowing me.

  I stopped at the back door, turned and nodded to one of the burly security guards who was a blonde mountain of a man with a buzz cut. Talk about your stereotypes. He swung the door open and stepped out in front of me, I stepped out into the screaming masses with the other guard behind me. The crowd was pushing at the barriers, screaming for autographs, trying to touch me as I passed.

  The large group of venue security mixed in with a couple local police officers all holding their arms wide, allowing me a corridor to my bus. I didn't stop for anything. I just marched up to my bus and pulled the door open and escaped inside, locking the door behind me.

  I just started stripping as I wandered back to the bathroom for a shower, to clean the night's sweat and makeup off of me. After I was cleaned up and feeling a little relaxed, I threw on an oversized t-shirt and my robe. I grabbed another bottle of Jack, some grapes and a granola bar from the kitchenette then and pulled out the bed from the wall, collapsing on it and sat munching on my impromptu meal.

  I play Providence, RI tomorrow, oh joy. The bus rumbled to life. I finished my snack and had just laid down, starting to doze off when my phone rang at exactly midnight, I let it go to voice mail as usual. But then I got afraid, what if it was Tammy with news on June!? So I checked the screen and froze as my mouth went dry. What the hell? Anabella West? I put my bottle down on the side table and retreated up the bed to my pillows. The phone felt so cold and heavy in my hand as I hovered my thumb over delete, but then the traitorous digit hit play instead.

  My heart stopped at the sound of her melodic voice, those silver chimes that made my heart skip a beat “I don't know if you have been getting my texts. I just wanted to say goodnight M. Please don't drink. For me?” Hearing her call me M I sucked in a ragged breath. I don't know why, but I looked around, cupping the phone to me like someone would snatch it from my grasp.

  I pulled the blanket over my head like I was hiding from peoples eyes and I played the message over a couple times, just soaking in her voice, listening to her request, then moved the message to the save folder. I slid out of bed, leaned over and grabbed my bottle of Jack and went to take a tug, but then held it away from myself. I moved it back to my lips but stopped again. I was conflicted as I walked over to the kitchenette, then threw the bottle in the sink, breaking the glasses that were in it.

  I stared at the shards of glass as I watched the brown liquid slowly drain from the upturned bottle. Damnit! It's the only way I can cope! Why won't she let me? Why am I even listening to her? How did she even know I'm drinking again?

  Sarina probably! Then a terrifying thought struck me as I realized that she probably saw the concert, since it was simulcast on pay per view. That scared the hell out of me... what if she saw me? I started pacing then jumped into bed and pulled the blankets up like a shield. I don't know when I fell asleep, I honestly didn't think I could, but the next thing I knew, Terry was banging on my door, waking me up after we arrived at the new venue.

  ***

  The next night there was a single daisy in a blue vase on my dressing room table again in Providence. I just stared at it, taking deep breaths. I could feel some tension slipping away, and I unclenched my fists, not even realizing I had been making them. Why is this flower having such an effect on me? I checked my phone and deleted Sarina's daily voice message and all texts, then listened to Tammy's update. I wore a simple black dress that night and low heels for the performance, instead of my regular rocker garb. It just felt right.

  The hair and makeup ladies were taken aback a bit when I showed up like this, but without a word, they made the look match my attire. They seemed happier than normal at this unexpected change. The short little raven haired makeup girl, Dawn I think her name is, kept smiling back at the older girl doing my hair.

  I liked this dressing room much better than the last venue, it was a proper dressing room with private shower, a comfortable couch and a comfortable chair by the makeup table. The heavy door blocked out most of the soun
d from the busy corridor beyond. I just sat and relaxed, feeling really odd that I was sober at this time. My last sober concert was opening night my very first tour.

  A quick knock at the door signaled the five minute warning. I took a deep breath and pulled myself out of the comfy chair and went to the door. Patting the new placard on the lanyard tucked under my clothing, wishing myself luck as I swung the door open and marched out into the corridor with purpose. Security in tow, we marched up to stage right. There was much more room here, and even the corridor seemed less hectic as I approached stage right.

  The sound guy handed me my earpiece and the stage lights all went out, I marched out to my speaker and grabbed my acoustic and took my seat while the rest of the band took their positions. The lights came up and the crowd cheered.

  I took the mic and complaining to the crowd that I needed a drink, but someone had asked me not to. Which garnered a laugh. I scanned across the sea of people, it seemed they were waiting in anticipation of something. My concerts didn't normally have this vibe to me. Then I replaced the mic, closed my eyes and simply started singing Oceans of Blue, strumming gently on my guitar, the band muted in the background. I just let it float out there, carrying me along. Why the hell am I sober? I was feeling like myself, that is the worst feeling. I'm a person that hurts everyone, I should be anyone but me.

  The rest of the night went the same, only playing my own music that the record label refused me. I almost smiled once or twice. Back damn smile, I don't deserve it. If I thought my music was well received in Boston, this crowd proved to be double that intensity. The concert ended with an encore, so I invoked Throw-Away again.

  I left the stage through the deafening roar of applause and wandered back to my dressing room. One inside I fell back into the comfy chair almost exhausted. A panic was rising for reasons I didn't understand, I could feel myself starting to hyperventilate until I caught sight of the daisy. I evened out my breathing then stood up. Taking a cleansing breath I went to the dressing room door and flung it open, walking confidently out flanked by venue security.