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"Thank you!" Eddie shouted into the mike, over a gratifying amount of applause. This was only a small club, but over the past several months they had garnered a loyal following who came to hear their original songs and not just for the covers and cheap beer.
"We've got t-shirts and tapes for sale, so come meet us outside the club and support the band," he added.
"Good crowd tonight," their drummer Jeff said as they were packing up their gear.
"Yeah, and did you see that old guy in the audience tonight?" Brian asked excitedly. "I think he might be a scout for a record label!" He was a good guy and a great guitarist, but he tended to have an overactive imagination.
Their bass player Janie rolled her eyes. "And is this the same 'old guy' you saw last week?"
"No, that was a different guy," Brian replied, enthusiasm undaunted by her skepticism. "That guy had longer hair, this one looked more like a business man--short hair, glasses, suit. Maybe the first guy was the scout and got his boss to come check us out."
"That would be cool, but I think it's unlikely that a record company would be interested in signing us," Eddie said gently. "We're playing a little hole-in-the-wall club, and while we're playing some original songs, our sets are still half covers. I mean, I think we've got potential, but we're not exactly the next Clash or Sex Pistols, at least, not yet."
"You've got to have more confidence, Eddie," Brian said. "Besides, what else would a guy like that be doing at a punk rock show?"
"Maybe he likes the music," Janie said with a shrug. "There's no law saying old guys can't like punk."
"Or maybe he was a dad looking for his kid who skipped curfew or ran away from home," Jeff suggested.
"It didn't look that way to me," Brian said. "He looked kinda...thoughtful, like he was evaluating the music. Did you guys not notice him?"
"I can't see much beyond the front of the stage without my glasses," Eddie said. He'd had to get glasses for near-sightedness several years ago. He didn't wear them while he was onstage because...well, it just didn't seem very punk rock. Although maybe it was stupid to care about his image, like he was a big rock star instead of being one step up from a garage band.
It was doubly stupid to care about his image when he hadn't even told his dad that he was in a band yet. He was living in the university dorms, which made it easier to hide, but when he went home to visit on the weekends or holidays, he washed the gel out of his spiky hair and combed it down flat. That was partly why he didn't have a full-on mohawk like Brian, the other part being that he didn't particularly want to shave the sides of his head.
It wasn't a big deal. While mohawks were common in the punk rock scene, not everyone had one. Jeff kept his hair cut short because it was too much of a hassle to deal with styling it, and Janie kept her black hair in a chin length bob that looked great on her.
But hairstyles weren't really the issue--it was the fact that he was hiding his. Eddie felt guilty, because he'd never lied to his dad before...sure, kid stuff like saying he'd done his homework when he hadn't, but not about something really important. Technically, he hadn't lied since Dad had never asked if he was in a punk rock band (having no reason to ask), but Eddie knew that it was a lie of omission.
He blinked as Janie waved a hand in front of his face and said, "Earth to Eddie. Are you okay?"
"Yeah, sure," Eddie replied. "Just thinking about...stuff. No big deal."
Janie didn't look convinced, but she let it slide as they finished packing up, then set up a table outside the club to sell their merchandise.
A small crowd gathered around, and while some just looked without buying, they actually sold several cassettes and a few t-shirts, which was more than Eddie had expected. And a cute girl with pink hair and a nose ring bought both a tape and a shirt and asked Eddie to sign them.
"Uh...sure, glad to," he said, using a black marker to sign his name with a flourish, and trying to act nonchalant, like he did it all the time.
"I'll sign something for you, too," the girl said with a flirtatious smile, and scribbled her name and phone number on a napkin from the bar.
"Hey, how come she didn't ask for my autograph?" Brian complained good-naturedly.
"I'm not as pretty as the young lady who was just here, but perhaps all of you could give me your autographs," a familiar voice said.
"Dad?!" Eddie exclaimed.
"'Dad'?" Brian echoed, staring at Eddie's father with a look of surprise and then disappointment. "I guess you're not with a record company after all."
"I'm afraid not," Tom replied with a smile. "I'm a magazine publisher."
"Really?" Brian asked with renewed enthusiasm. "What kind of magazine? Do you think maybe you could do an article about us?" Janie elbowed him in the side, and he yelped, "Ow! What was that for?"
"I think she means maybe now is not the right time," Jeff said with a significant sidelong look at Eddie and Tom.
There was an awkward pause as Eddie struggled to find something to say, and Janie came to his rescue and said, "Nice to meet you, Mr. Corbett. Did you enjoy the show?"
"Oh, please call me Tom," he replied. "And it's nice to meet you, too...er..."
"Janie," Janie said. "And this is Jeff and Brian."
Tom greeted them pleasantly, though Eddie noticed that he hadn't answered the question about whether he enjoyed the show. But he did buy a tape and had all of the band members sign it, although Eddie felt really weird signing an autograph for his own father.
"Maybe we could talk for a bit, if you're not too busy," Tom said.
The crowd had mostly dispersed, and Janie told Eddie, "Go ahead, we'll hold down the fort." She added with a wink, "If any lovesick female fans stop by in the meantime, Brian and Jeff will have to console them."
"Hey, it's a sacrifice, but anything for you, Eddie," Brian said magnanimously.
"Thanks," Eddie said to Janie. Honestly, he wasn't really sure he was thankful for her help since he would have preferred to put off talking to his dad. And he was secretly a little disappointed that she wasn't bothered by the thought of pretty girls being interested in him, although there was no reason for her to be, since they were just good friends and bandmates.
Still, she meant well, and he would have had to tell his father about the band sooner or later. He might as well face the music now, no pun intended.
They walked away from the club in silence. Eddie glanced over at his father, who didn't seem angry and was strolling along with his usual good-natured look on his face.
"So..." Eddie said cautiously, "how did you find out about my band?"
Tom smiled and replied, "Norman was working on an article about the local music scene, and he just happened to check out an up-and-coming punk rock group."
"The long-haired old guy that Brian thought was a record company scout," Eddie groaned.
"Well, Norman might be a little hurt to hear himself described as an old guy," Tom chuckled. "But it's true that he was there on business...just not the kind of business that your friend was hoping."
"Are you upset?" Eddie asked. "About the music and this?" He motioned vaguely at his spiked-up hair.
"Well, the hair is a bit...unusual," Tom replied tactfully. "And the music was very loud, and to be honest, not exactly my cup of tea."
"Oh," Eddie said, his heart sinking although his father's reaction wasn't unexpected and more kindly put than it could have been.
"But," Tom continued, "I could feel the energy and passion you put into your music, and I was impressed by that."
"Really?" Eddie asked.
"Really," Tom replied. "Now it's my turn to ask you something. Why didn't you tell me about the band?"
Eddie's gaze dropped to his feet as he mumbled, "I don't know," suddenly feeling like he was six years old again and about to be scolded. Although his father didn't sound angry, just curious and a little hurt. The latter made Eddie feel even worse than if his dad had yelled at him.
"You were so proud of me getting into a good college," Eddie said after a long pause, looking up but not quite meeting his father's eyes. "It was kind of hard to say that I want to play punk rock for a living. I guess I just didn't want to disappoint you."
Tom looked thoughtful for a moment, then asked, "Eddie, do you remember the first time that your grandmother came to visit us?"
"Sure," Eddie replied, a little confused by the change of subject. "I remember thinking that she didn't seem to like me much. You tried to explain to me--though I didn't really understand till I was older--that she just had a very rigid way of thinking." Most of his memories of that visit were unpleasant, but one made him smile. "I remember she didn't know what to make of Uncle Norman."
Tom laughed and agreed, "He certainly didn't fit her idea of how men are supposed to behave. I didn't always live up to her expectations either, you know. She wasn't very happy when I told her I was starting a magazine."
"I never knew that," Eddie said, staring at his father in surprise. "It's a respectable job, isn't it? And the magazine turned out to be a big success."
"Yes, but running a magazine is a risky venture," Tom said. "There was no guarantee that it would turn out to be successful. Even with established magazines, there's always a risk of going under if the public's tastes change and you aren't able to keep up with the times. Your grandmother would have preferred something more traditional, something more stable...a banker, perhaps, or a lawyer. That's what she would have considered respectable. Though as you said, the magazine was successful, so in the end, she grudgingly accepted it."
"Better than joining a rock band," Eddie said wryly.
"That absolutely would have scandalized her," Tom agreed with a smile. Then his expression turned more serious and he said, "You know, son, there's something I've never told you about your grandmother's visit."
"Really?" Eddie asked. "What is it?"
"I didn't ask her to visit just so you could get to know each other," Tom replied. "I wanted to designate a legal guardian for you in case anything happened to me. Your grandmother would have been the logical choice, at least from the standpoint of being your closest blood relation. But...well, blood isn't everything, and I wasn't sure if she would really be the best person to care for you."
"I...I didn't know," Eddie stammered, feeling shaken by the idea of losing his father even though Dad was here, still in good health, and obviously the hypothetical guardian had not been needed.
"I didn't want to scare you," his father said quietly, an understanding look on his face. "And of course I hoped it wouldn't be necessary, but I felt that I couldn't leave things to chance. I'd already had my doubts about Mother, and her visit only confirmed them."
"She made me feel 'all flattened out,' I think was how I put it back then," Eddie recalled. She had seemed to disapprove of everything he did, from making bead necklaces with Uncle Norman (because men weren't supposed to make jewelry) to simply laughing and playing like a normal kid. Grandmother had definitely subscribed to the belief that children should be seen and not heard because she hadn't seemed to approve of him doing anything other than sitting quietly and studying.
Tom nodded. "That was why I couldn't let her be your guardian. She cared about you in her own way, but I think she would have broken your spirit, or at least have tried to, all with the best of intentions."
Eddie shuddered at the thought. "Well, I'm glad that never happened! But I am curious...who did you choose as my guardian? Aunt Kate? Mrs. Livingston?"
"Kate was traveling abroad at the time," his father replied. "And as much as she loved you, she was still young and not ready to be a mother. I did ask Mrs. Livingston but she turned me down." He hastily added, "Not because she was unwilling or didn't care about you, but she said that you had grown used to it being just the two of us, father and son. She thought you needed a father figure rather than a mother."
"But who...?" Eddie frowned as he tried to think which of his father's friends or relatives would have made a suitable guardian. He hadn't been close to any of them except... "Wait, don't tell me--" Eddie exclaimed.
"Uncle Norman," his father finished with a grin.
"I love Uncle Norman, but he is the last person I would have thought would make a responsible guardian," Eddie said, shaking his head in bemusement.
"Norman said that himself at the time," Tom laughed. "I think he might not have made sure you always ate your vegetables and got to bed on time, but he would have loved you and done his best to raise you. And most important of all, he would have allowed you to follow your dream, whatever that might be." He smiled at Eddie with the same tenderness he used to when Eddie had been a child. "Including being a punk rocker, if that was what you wanted."
"So you're really okay with this?" Eddie asked.
"I'd be lying if I said I didn't have any concerns," Tom admitted. "But it's your life to live as you choose, Eddie. I chose a risky profession myself, so it's not my place to stand in your way. What I want most for you is to be happy. If your dream is playing music, then I will be your biggest fan and cheer you on."
"I'm sorry, Dad," Eddie said, feeling touched and humbled. "I should have told you about the band. I should have trusted that you would understand, or at least that you would hear me out and talk to me about it seriously. When I was a kid, I knew that I could tell you anything. I think maybe I forgot that."
"Well, you're a young man now, and I trust you to make your own decisions about your life," his father replied. "But you can always come to me if you need advice, or just a sympathetic ear."
"Thanks, Dad," Eddie said. "I will."
They walked in companionable silence for awhile, then Eddie said, "I want you to know that I don't plan on dropping out of college or anything. Assuming we have any kind of success, I don't want us to be one of those bands who gets ripped off by the record company or their manager. I want to learn how to read a contract and manage our money."
"That's very practical," Tom said approvingly.
"Not very rock 'n' roll, maybe," Eddie said with a smile. "But we are trying to be practical. We're not just waiting to be discovered by a record company, no matter what Brian says. We've been taking whatever gigs we can, no matter how small, and we've been slowly building a following. We borrowed a portable four track recorder from a friend in another band, and we recorded some songs in Jeff's family's garage and put them on the tapes you saw us selling tonight. And Janie's an art major--she came up with the t-shirt design and made the silkscreen in her art class. We're really doing the DIY thing."
"It sounds like you guys have figured out a sensible plan," Tom said. "At least as much as one can be sensible while pursuing a career in rock music."
"I know that getting a record deal and making it big is a long shot," Eddie said. "But I love music and I want to work in that field in one way or another, even if the band doesn't work out."
"It's okay if things don't work out, as long as you've tried your best," his father told him. "You're young and resourceful, and I trust that you'll find another way to pursue your dream even if you fail the first time." He smiled at Eddie. "You know, my magazine started off as 'DIY' too. In the beginning, it was just me and Norman making little more than a glorified pamphlet. But we had big dreams and somehow we managed to achieve them."
"I guess we have more in common than I realized," Eddie said. "I should be getting back to the club, but maybe later you can tell me more about how you started up your magazine."
"Sure," Tom said, sounding pleased. "Why don't you come over for dinner tomorrow night, and you can tell me more about the band, too." He smiled slyly and nudged Eddie's side with his elbow. "And maybe you can tell if there are any ladies in your life. Like that girl with the pink hair who passed you a note. Or maybe you're more interested in your bass player...what was her name...Janie?"
He tried to sound casual and offhand but Eddie sensed that he knew perfectly well what Janie's name was. Still, Eddie couldn't help blushing as he asked, "How did you know?"
"Hey, I was young once too," his father replied. "You can bring her over for dinner if you want."
"Whoa, Dad," Eddie protested, still blushing. "Things haven't gone that far yet. I mean, we're just friends. I like her, but I don't want to make things awkward if she doesn't like me back that way."
"You have a point," Tom conceded. "But still, I have a feeling that she feels the same way."
"And what makes you say that?" Eddie asked. "She didn't seem to mind at all when that other girl gave me her phone number."
"Oh, call it a father's intuition," Tom replied. "Along with an old guy's many years of experience. A woman has her pride, you know. She wouldn't want you to see that it bothered her. And maybe she doesn't want to make things awkward with the band either."
"Hmm," Eddie said thoughtfully, feeling hopeful but not quite convinced. "I'll think about it."
"You can still invite her over to dinner as a friend," his father said.
Eddie laughed. "I used to be the one trying to set you up with women--it seems like the roles have been reversed!"
"I guess they have, sport," his father laughed along with him, draping his arm over Eddie's shoulder.
A passerby gave them an odd look, although Eddie wasn't sure if it was due to the display of affection or Eddie's hair and clothes (Ramones t-shirt, leather jacket, and torn jeans). Still, a few years ago, Eddie might have shrugged off his father's arm in embarrassment, but he felt as perfectly comfortable and content as he had been when he used to walk hand-in-hand with his father when he was five or six years old.
"Hey, Dad?"
"Yes, son?"
"You know you'll always be my best friend, right?" Eddie asked. It had been years since he'd last said it, but it was still true.
"Of course," his father said, his arm tightening slightly around Eddie's shoulders and drawing him closer. "Just as you'll always be mine."