Rhythm and the Blue Line Ch. 02

Mitch did the four-count again and Ryan began, watching Jason the whole time. He joined in on time, but then ran over Lara's vocals, and they stopped again. Ryan wondered if he'd done it out of spite that time.

"Jason!"

Jason glared at her. "What? I wasn't finished the solo. You can't run through the progression once more while I finish?

"This song doesn't revolve around your damn solo. This is not the time to fuck around with the songs. You know it; play it." Ryan stared at Jason until he looked to Nate and Mitch for support. When he didn't find any, he glared at the floor and sulked.

"All right." Lara looked over at Mitch. "One more time."

He nodded and they went again. Ryan made herself focus on her hands so that she wouldn't distract herself trying to make sure that Jason didn't pull any more tricks. He played it straight all the way through, and Ryan was relieved when it was over.

"Okay, pretty good." Lara looked at the others, then exchanged a nod with Ryan. "If we can do it that way, I think it'll be great." Her eyes settled on Jason at the end.

"Absolutely. We should put it in the list for the 9:30 Club," Mitch said. He tapped a stick on his leg.

"Speaking of which." Lara dug out her phone. "Can we take care of some business before the next song?" Everyone nodded and she tapped at the screen. "First off, I want to put up a new song on Facebook and MySpace. I was thinking 'Roam Around,' but if we can clean this one up, we could use that."

"Either's good with me," said Ryan, and Nate and Mitch seconded the idea.

"I think we should go with 'On the Far Road,'" said Jason.

Ryan all but bit her tongue in an effort to keep her temper. "On the Far Road" was not their best song, but it did have the guitar front and center. "Roam Around" was far better, and the song they'd just finished, "Skyline," could be a close second. Neither of those, however, spotlighted the guitar.

Nate spoke up. "'Far Road' isn't ready, Jason. We agreed on that last time."

"It's Facebook, it doesn't have to be perfect. It's a good song." When no one spoke up to support him, he scowled and shrugged. "Whatever."

Lara took a deep breath. "Moving on. I don't think it's too early to start making flyers to put up about our gig at the 9:30 Club. Plus we have GW in two weeks and University of Maryland the week after. Those would be excellent places to hand out flyers."

"How about songs?" Nate asked. "Maybe we could put another one up before each of the college gigs."

"Sounds good to me." Mitch nodded. "I can help put some flyers up. We should put some up near Adams Morgan and areas like that. We don't usually hit those."

"Cool." Lara nodded and her thumbs flew over the tiny keypad. "Okay, I'm still working on our website, the one with our own domain name; Facebook is good, but MySpace is kind of worthless. I think we can have some fun with this. Maybe we can take turns blogging or something like that. Trout said he'll help."

Ryan murmured her agreement as the guys nodded. Trout may have had an odd name, but the man knew his way around websites.

"Great. Let's get back to work." Lara slid the phone in her purse and settled back on her stool.

For the next couple of hours, Jason didn't make any more trouble, but neither did he hide his dissatisfaction. Ryan couldn't recall the last time rehearsal had seemed so much like work. When they were done, they ordered pizza and talked over the "big gig," as they had come to think of it.

"We should try mixing up the order." Mitch reached for his first slice. "I think we're all getting tired of that, and we know the songs inside out."

Ryan pulled a pizza box over to her and Lara; she knew from experience that otherwise they'd be lucky to get a slice each, the way the guys went at it.

"Good idea." Ryan debated pepperoni versus sausage and went with the former. "Let's figure it out and we'll have the GW and Maryland dates to experiment." She grinned. "We should be all set to rock the 9:30 Club. Good work, Lara."

"Absolutely. It's going to be so awesome," Nate chimed in. "I'm really psyched about it."

"Thanks." Lara beamed. It had taken weeks to get the date.

"Too bad you didn't get an earlier date." Jason took a swig of Coke.

Ryan saw Lara's expression darken a bit. Her friend didn't get angry often, but Jason was good at pushing buttons.

"It was the first open date I could get, and we should take advantage of the lead time to maximize the exposure," Lara said.

Jason grunted and went back to his pizza.

* * *

"Jason was a piece of work, wasn't he?" Lara shook her head as she drove them home.

"He was." Ryan paused, trying to get a sense of Lara's mood. "No worse than usual, I guess, but he does get under my skin. I think he does it on purpose."

"Yeah. God." Lara smacked the steering wheel. "'Too bad you didn't get an earlier date?' Next time he can plan the damn gigs. I don't see him offering to help. He won't even put up any flyers!" She shook her head. "Nate did I don't know how many blocks last time, and Jason couldn't be bothered to put them up on his own street. Putz."

Ryan gave a short laugh. "True. You know, I was thinking, Lara. We agreed to six months, but I don't think it's going to work."

"We should keep our word, and we can't afford to lose him now. Let's see how the gigs go."

"I feel so stupid." Ryan shook her head. "Like I should have seen it, you know? But he was Nate's friend, and he seemed so enthusiastic when he auditioned."

"He's Nate's sister's boyfriend," Lara corrected, then made a face. "Try saying that five times fast. Anyway, we all thought he was serious, Ryan. It's no one's fault."

"I know. It's just been bugging me for a few weeks now and I haven't been sure whether to say anything." She huffed out a breath. "Nate and Mitch are on board, always have been, but Jason keeps wanting to rock the boat. It infuriates me." She paused to gather her thoughts. "I know what I'm doing, and I'm glad you guys trust me. If Jason doesn't start trusting, it'll be a problem."

Lara nodded. "It will. I have to say, I keep waiting for you guys to have an actual fight one day."

Ryan scoffed. "Please. I'd mop the floor with him. Hardly worth the effort."

"True. So, how are things with the family?" Lara switched lanes and subjects as their exit approached.

"The usual. I'm such a disappointment."

"No, you're not. They don't say that."

"Not out loud, but it's definitely what they think." She considered. "Okay, not Evan. But the rest of them."

"I've never understood that." Lara turned onto Route 1. "I know they're into sports, and that takes talent and work. But you have talent and you work hard, it's just different talent. So I don't see how they can be like that."

"Are you kidding? With my dad, it was sports or nothing. Thank God the boys came along, or he would have died of a broken heart."

"Come on, Ry, you're exaggerating."

"Am I? For God's sake, Lara, they gave me a boy's name. How much more obvious could they have been that they wanted me to be a son? Geez, if they'd found out ahead of time, they probably would have given me up for adoption."

"Oh, come on. We've been over this."

"Okay, okay. I'll drop it before I start feeling sorry for myself."

"Good. I'm staying home tonight and I don't have time for your pity party." Lara nudged her arm to take the sting out of her words.

"Wow, home? What have I done to warrant the honor of your company?" Ryan feigned shock as they got to their door and she unlocked it. "Did Trout find a mermaid?"

"Oh, knock it off." Lara smacked Ryan's shoulder. "He's off on a camping trip with some friends. I don't do beds outdoors."

"Where's your sense of adventure?"

"At the Marriott."

Ryan laughed. "Well, they say couples should have their own individual interests, right? So this is good. Time apart. You can appreciate him more when you see him again."

"I'll appreciate him plenty once he showers."

Ryan made a face. "Thanks for the image."

"Hey, mental hands off my boyfriend."

"I don't want my hands, of any sort, on your boyfriend. Have no fear."

"Okay." Lara grabbed some water. "Besides, you should want your hands on Brody Lang."

"Oh, please." Ryan reached in for a soda. "We're friends, ok? We talk. He's a nice guy."

"But?" Lara led the way into the living room and they each dropped onto the couch.

Ryan stretched her legs, reveling in being free of any casts. "But what?"

"There's a but in there, I can tell. He's a nice guy, apparently single. You're single, so what's the problem?"

"Maybe I'm not looking for a boyfriend, ever think of that?"

Lara scoffed.

"Okay, fine." Ryan took a long drink. "I like him, ok? But he's a hockey player. After all the sports crap I've put up with in my life already, I have no desire to date a professional athlete. And let me point out there's no evidence he wants to date me."

"So you're just friends?"

"Yes, friends." Ryan laughed and her friend's expression. "Look, Lara, I like him. He's funny, and he's been cool about the band, which goes a long way. But other than that, there's nothing going on."

"Hmph." Lara slumped back in her chair. "That's just not right."

Ryan snickered. "We can't all be lucky enough to meet a fish. I mean, a guy like Trout." She laughed louder when Lara threw a pillow at her. "Oh, and I forgot to tell you: Brody cooked me dinner a while ago."

Lara sat up, eyes wide. "Are you serious? He's cute, he's an athlete, and he cooks? Dear God, Ryan, if you don't go out with him I'm going to break up with Trout and take your place."

"Okay."

"I'm serious."

"Have at."

"Ryan." Lara threw up her hands. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Come with me tomorrow when I go to the party?" Ryan gave her friend a hopeful look. "Please?"

"Sorry. I love you like a sister, but that's beyond the call of duty." When Ryan pouted, Lara smiled. "Actually I can't. I'm meeting up with my own parents; my grandparents are visiting. Why are you going?"

"Oh, it's Evan's birthday. It'll be a family party with all our cousins and what not. I mean, that'll be nice and I've got his present but I just know how it's going to be."

Lara looked at her with sympathy. "Well, it's a birthday party, though, right? So people should be . . . distracted. They should be focused on Evan."

"My parents never miss a chance to remind me of my mistakes." Ryan shook her head. "Just grin and bear it, right?"

"I'll cover for you if you want to be sick," Lara offered.

"Tempting, but no." Ryan yawned and stretched. "I think I'll go shower and chill out for a while."

"Okay. I'm going to veg with a movie. Take it easy, Ry." Lara patted her hand as she walked by. "It's only a few hours out of one day. It won't be so bad."

* * *

After going over a new song with Lara in the morning and grabbing an early lunch at the mall, Ryan made her way over to Crystal City to pick up a Zipcar. Working with Lara had kept her from dwelling on the party, but riding out to Chantilly in the little compact, she couldn't avoid it.

It's really sad when you think about faking sick to miss your own brother's birthday party. She popped in a CD and tried not to think about it.

Other people would be there, she reminded herself. Other relatives, probably even some friends from the neighborhood. With luck, her parents would be too busy hosting the party and talking to people to give her any grief. The one thing she did not need was to be reminded, in front of people, of how her parents thought she was wasting her time, her life, "playing" with the band.

You're not even there yet. Don't get worked up over things that haven't happened, she chided herself. She took a deep breath and advanced the CD until she found a song by Muse and calmed down.

She found a spot in front of the neighbor's house and parked by the curb. Gathering her bag and gift for Evan—she'd found a graphic novel she knew he'd been looking for—she walked up to the house. It was a nice house, a two-story colonial. There was a basketball net in the driveway, and she remembered watching her brothers shoot hoops with their dad.

Ryan knew the air hockey and ping pong tables were still in the finished basement and assumed there'd be a pile of people lined up to play. Her dad never missed a chance to organize a game, tournament or competition if he could. She grimaced, remembering her fifteenth birthday and the way her father had insisted everyone gather outside for an obstacle course race. It might have gone over better had the party not been attended by a dozen teenage girls who were more interested in talking about boys, movies and music. She walked up the front steps and knocked before going in.

"Ryan! You're here!" Her mother was the first person to spy her.

"Of course I am. I wouldn't miss Evan's birthday." Ryan gave her mom a hug and pat on the back. "I even have a gift. Where should I put it?"

"Just over here." Judy Bancroft led her daughter over to a table in the corner of the living room. "Oh, it's so good to see you off your crutches." She squeezed Ryan's arm.

"Good to be off them. So where's the birthday boy?" A roar rose up from the basement and she gave her mother a wry grin. "Guess I'll go say hello."

Before she went to the basement, Ryan traded greetings with friends and family, then decided to maneuver into the kitchen for a drink. She tensed up when she saw her father.

"Hi, Dad."

"Ryan." He nodded. "How are you?"

"Good, thanks." Ryan tried to ignore the awkward feeling she had whenever she talked to her father. Most people got at least a clap on the shoulder from James Thomas Bancroft, Sr.; she got a nod. With a deep breath, she rummaged in a large cooler for a soda. "So, um . . . how's work?"

He shrugged and reached for a beer. "Not too bad."

"Great." The usual strained silence fell between them. "So . . . did Mom tell you about our gig at the 9:30 Club? We're pretty excited." Ryan didn't know why she even said it. Even if her mother had said something, she doubted her father would have listened. Or cared.

He grunted a noncommittal noise and popped open his beer. Before either could say anything else, someone yelled for James to come down to the basement.

"Looks like they can't start without me." He nodded again and left.

Ryan leaned against the counter. She'd never had the best relationship with her father, and it hadn't improved when she'd not only rejected sports but focused on music as her career choice. She hadn't been far off, she thought, when she'd told Lara that not having a son as his first child had almost broken her father's heart.

"Hey, sis!"

Ryan pulled out of her thoughts and managed to smile at her brother. "Hey, JT. How's it going? Surprised you made it home."

JT clapped her shoulder and she gave his hand an awkward pat. JT was three years younger than she was, but had been taller than she since he was twelve. He had taken after their father the way she'd taken after their mother in looks. He had their dad's brown hair, brown eyes and squared-off jaw.

JT had been a star football player in high school, as had their father, and he'd opted to go to UMD, their father's alma mater. He'd likewise been unimpressed with Ryan's musical aspirations, although too focused on his own life to give her much grief about it.

After working out and playing football for years, he looked older than he was; she thought he could easily pass for twenty-five. She wondered if he got carded when he went out.

"Come on, Ryan, I couldn't miss Evan's eighteenth birthday." JT rummaged through the cooler for a soda.

"Yeah, me neither."

"Besides, it's a lot easier now that I've got the car."

Ryan nodded and sipped at her soda, forcing herself to think on a reply. The car had been JT's twentieth birthday present the previous June; her twentieth birthday present had been a gift card. She shook her head. "Well, it's great you could come. I know Mom and Dad like having you around. God knows why." Ryan laughed as he narrowed his eyes at her. "How's school?"

"Excellent." JT took a swig of his drink. "We've got that new guy, Dunston, from Philly. He's supposed to be one of the best receivers out there, and so far it's all true. With Barski at quarterback, and Dunston to receive, we should run the conference. I'm still undecided about the draft, though. Dad thinks I should, and my agent says I should easy go in the first or second round, but you know. You have to look at all the options."

Sports, sports, and more sports, thought Ryan. "Well, good luck with all that."

"Thanks, Ry." Another roar sounded, this time from the den, and JT took off.

Ryan wandered back out to the crowd and looked for Evan. She didn't see him in the living room or den, and decided to brave the basement. She looked around and found Evan off to the side, shouting encouragement to their father, who was facing off for some ping pong against a man she didn't recognize.

She poked him in the side. "Hi, Evan."

"Ryan!" He looked down—Ryan thought wryly how her brothers made her feel about three feet tall—and grinned. Like Ryan, he had their mother's auburn hair and green eyes. He was taller than JT by a couple of inches, and when he'd gotten into sports, no one had been surprised when he had been drawn to basketball.

"Happy birthday, squirt." She put one arm around him and squeezed.

Evan scoffed but returned the hug. "I've been taller than you since I was, like, ten or eleven."

"I know, but I'm still the big sister. So there."

"All right, all right." Evan shook his head in mock resignation, then smiled. "Thanks, Ryan. I'm glad you could make it. I thought you might have rehearsal or something. I ran into Trout the other day; he told me about the 9:30 Club. That's great! Congratulations."

"Thanks, Evan." Ryan was pleased. She and her youngest brother had always gotten along. Evan was the only one in the family who took her music anywhere near seriously. Any teasing was always good natured, and he usually asked to hear any new songs. It was a nice contrast to the way everyone else reacted.

"I'm aiming to be at your gig at Maryland, and I'll bring some friends, too."

"Thanks, Evan. I'd appreciate that." She gave his arm a squeeze.

"No problem. I'm not sure I can make it to the 9:30 Club, but I'll let you know. And tell me if the date changes or anything."

"Sure." They were quiet for a minute, watching the ping pong. "So," Ryan asked, "who's winning?"

"Dad." Evan raised an eyebrow. "Do you think he'd be this quiet otherwise?"

"Ah. Right." Ryan nodded. When their father was winning, he was focused; when he was losing, he would chatter to put his opponent off his game. She watched for a few minutes, then told Evan she was heading back upstairs.

"Don't leave before the cake," he advised. "Mom got chocolate with raspberry filling. There'll be a stampede."

Ryan laughed and went back up. She found a couple of her cousins who were still in high school and caught up on what was happening with them, then her dad came up to start the grill. It was October, and the weather was cooling, but it took more than that to keep her father from grill duty.

The men gathered around the grill on the back patio and their conversation turned to the football season, real and fantasy; the just-begun hockey and basketball seasons; the end of yet another disappointing season for the Nationals; and the future of the Redskins, a year-round soap opera that provided plenty of material. The women went between the porch and the kitchen, helping Ryan's mom set things out, and their conversation was either about kids, or the effect of their husbands' sports hobbies.

Ryan debated where to go. She didn't care to step out and discuss sports with the men, and she didn't have kids, nor a boyfriend, so chatting with the women was tough as well. Her younger cousins said hi when she greeted them, but they were more interested in discussing high school problems with each other and playing their handheld video games. The ones that weren't Facebooking or tweeting.