Quick Update on Like Glass and Shattered…
Okay, worked things out with the publisher, and this is where we stand. Like Glass will be published as planned — November 2010 in the UK, 2011 in the US. It will not, however, be considered part of a series to start — it’s going out (initially, at least) as a standalone novel.
Shattered is no longer scheduled for publishing. It requires too many changes, and I’m not able to concentrate well enough to give it the work it deserves. Perhaps someday in the near future it’ll be different, and HandE Media already said they would love to publish it when that time comes. At present, though, it’s not a consideration. The third novel in the series, Broken Peaces, isn’t even in the works at the moment; it’s going the same direction as Shattered.
I’ll keep you posted as things change.
Author Stuff on Twitter
Quickie post while I finish up my lunch break. I just set up an account on Twitter for the writing side of my life. Follow at http://twitter.com/mcoryauthor. That’s where I’ll most likely post quick news and writing-related stuff during the day, since I can’t do much on here during work.
Catch you on the flip side.
–Matt
Quick Status on Shattered
Had a bit of a vacation this weekend – five days, using some paid time off – and started back in on Shattered. Going quite nicely, and it’s somewhere between a rewrite and a plain edit. Taking out a couple of subplots, adding some new scenes, etc. I need to get this draft to the publisher by September; I might be able to make it. Hope so, at least – don’t want to get the writing career started by missing deadlines. That probably ought to wait until the third book at least…
Okay, my little smoke break is over; back to the grind.
–Matt
Update on Like Glass and Shattered
First off: its official. Like Glass and Shattered will be published by HandE Media, a publisher based in the UK. I know I’ve mentioned it before, but now everything is signed, sealed, and delivered. (I’m posting this from my phone on my lunch break, or else I’d add a link to their site – I’ll try to remember to do it later.) As it stands right now though, we’re still looking at releasing Like Glass this fall in the UK, and bringing it back to this side of the Atlantic in 2011.
Shattered will most likely be released about a year after, but don’t hold me to that – I’m actually in the process of rewriting Shattered pretty much from scratch. The original draft of the story … well, let’s just say its decent, but it isn’t something I feel worth releasing. The story, I feel, is good, but it deserves more respect than I gave it initially.
I need to get back to work, so I’ll catch you on the flip side.
–Matt
Like Glass and Shattered To Be Published
Well, I haven’t written a whole lot on what’s going on with Like Glass in a while, and that’s mainly because I’m trying to learn from the mistake I made last year when I first thought I might have a publisher lined up. Namely, I started talking about the book getting published, then the deal fell through and I felt a bit like a jackass for getting so excited about it.
This time around, I’d promised myself I’d wait until everything was signed, sealed, and delivered before I made any kind of a fuss about it.
That said, I love setting myself up to look like an idiot, so I’m going to break that promise to myself 
Here’s what’s happening (keep in mind that this is still preliminary, though most of the details have been worked out as far as I’m aware):
1) Like Glass will be published by H and E Publishers in the U.K. with a release date set for November 25th, 2010. (In an earlier post, I’d said it was going to be 2011; they were able to fit it into next year though.) A U.S. release date is pending, but it will probably be about a year after the U.K. release.
2) Shattered will be published by H and E Publishers, though no details regarding the release have been set. Odds are (and this is just a guess — this hasn’t been discussed at all) it’ll probably be released in the U.K. a year after Like Glass, and in the U.S. a year after Like Glass is released in the U.S.
3) If I can ever get around to working on Broken Peaces, the third book in the series, H and E will probably handle that one too. Since this book hasn’t even been written yet, don’t expect any release details any time soon.
I don’t have any other details worth giving at the moment, but I will post what I can whenever there’s something worth posting.
Need to get back to having a lazy Saturday, so I’ll catch you on the flip side.
–Matt
A Spark Arises
Well, the old fires are starting to spark up again. Maybe it’s because it’s nearing November, which as any writer who’s spent any reasonable time online can tell you, is NaNoWriMo. Maybe it’s just the changing of the weather — colder days seem to draw out the creative juices a little better for me for some reason. Or maybe it’s just because I’ve taken enough time away from it that I’m starting to miss it and get tired of coding all day again.
Regardless of the reason, the writer in me is starting to stir around again, and I’m once again fleshing out ideas for Broken Peaces. Of course, I’ve still got to get Shattered up to specs, but I think most of Shattered is pretty solid. It needs some clean up — there’s a lot of typos and a lot of stuff that could be worded better — but it’s … well … solid.
The main thing I’m having a bit of trouble with right now is how to come up with a story that can top the drama in Shattered. Like I said quite a bit last year, Shattered is a lot darker than Like Glass was. A lot darker. I was re-reading the last third or so of the novel today, wanting to bring myself back up to speed on that world so I can dig into Broken Peaces, and I was pleasantly surprised at it. It’d been a long time since I’d looked through any of it, let alone the tail end where things really go to hell, and while I’d remembered the genera idea of the plot (i.e. who does what to whom and for how much), I’d forgotten the overall gist of it. It’s kinda like the difference between just hearing a song’s melody and hearing the song with the full band behind it.
Anyways, I’ve got a couple of decent ideas for things that could … well … go wrong. And let’s face it: stories where things go right are pretty boring — something has to go wrong in order to get your interest. The girl has to dump the guy. The aliens have to invade. The super villain has to have his plot to destroy the world unless the world governments are going to pay … one million dollars (where the hell is the Dr. Evil pinky-to-cheek emoticon when you need it?). Otherwise, it’s a yawn fest.
And for what it’s worth, I already know how Broken Peaces is going to end. It’s just a matter of getting there — the journey’s the best part.
It’s going to be interesting to see how I’m going to pull it together though, now that I’m working full time at a job I actually enjoy. When I wrote Like Glass, I was working from home, so I could write while I had some down time. When I wrote Shattered last year, I was taking a leave of absence for personal reasons. Where I’m at now though, I couldn’t take the time off, nor do I even really want to — the job’s actually pretty good.
That probably also has a lot to do with how I’m looking at Broken Peaces and why I’m having such a hard time getting my brain fired up for it. I’m in a much better mind set than I was when I wrote Like Glass, and worlds better than when I wrote Shattered. Now I don’t quite have the same emotions to build from, so getting the juices flowing is going to be a lot different this time around than last time.
At least there’s one thing in my favor for this: I’d never planned on Broken Peaces being anywhere near as dark as Shattered. Probably not as dark as Like Glass either, but definitely much lighter than the last venture into Rob’s world. So that should make it a bit easier to get going. We’ll see though.
Well, I’ve got about three weeks to get things in order before NaNoWriMo starts, so hopefully that’ll be enough time to get the fires lit properly and get some good ideas flowing.
In the meantime though, it’s nigh on bedtime, and I’ve got a couple of projects due at work in the next couple of weeks, so I’d better start heading along. Catch you on the flip side.
–Matt
Another Day In Paradise
Okay, got up way too early this morning for a Monday, but it’s all good: one of the downsides of trying to work with someone in the UK is the ~7 hour time difference, but over the years I’ve become more of a morning person than I used to be. Coffee is my friend, and it’s a friend I cherish deeply.
Nothing really to report on the publishing deal yet, except for the fact I’ve discovered how different mailing addresses are in the US vs. those in the UK. The publisher wants a hard copy of Like Glass, and the other day I tried to start an order from Amazon to get an idea of how much it cost. Fifteen minutes later, I think I might have gotten it to accept their address, but I’m a little leary of sending it out. For roughly $50 total (w/ S&H), I’d really rather not take a chance on it coming back and having to send it again.
Also, I’m wanting to discuss the options we might have available for working on Shattered and Broken Peaces together — those are the other two books in the Like Glass series. We’ll see what happens with that. Not really getting my hopes up, but hey: stranger things have happened, right? At least Shattered is technically finished. It’s a mess at the moment, but mainly because I haven’t had any need to work on it (and I’ve had more pressing issues to deal with, like “real” life). If there were interest in it, I could probably have it polished up to a pleasant shine in a couple of months. Broken Peaces, now… that would take a little time. But hey, even if we signed the contract today, Like Glass wouldn’t come out for another couple of years, then Shattered would have to make it’s rounds, probably a year or so after Like Glass, and then we’d have to worry about where the final book in the trilogy is.
Aside from that though, things are trucking along. Work’s getting … interesting, to say the least, and quite hectic as project deadlines loom.
The missus and I are moving — did I mention that? Nothing major, just moving across town. Cheaper rent, and I’ll be a little closer to my old stomping grounds. Longer drive to and from work, but you can’t have everything, can you? Gonna get that taken care of this weekend — thankfully we’ve got some movers lined up, and that’ll make things a lot nicer.
Other than that, just another day in paradise. Need to start getting ready to get back into the grind, so I’ll catch you on the flip side.
–Matt
Shattered Will Not Be Released
I’ll start this off with the “important” news, just to get it out of the way: I have decided that I will not be releasing Shattered, the sequel to Like Glass, in any form.
This was not a very easy decision to make, as it took a lot of my time and energy to work on the novel, and I spent a lot of extra energy trying to build up a buzz for it. To those who were waiting for it, I apologize.
The novel was something that needed to be written, but not something that needs to be read. I went through a very rough stretch last summer — still dealing with some of those demons to some degree — and the novel was a means for me to deal with some of the issues of that time.
There’s lots of ways things could’ve have happened differently, but the path that I’ve walked for the past several months has led me to a place where the release of the novel would do more harm than good. Not because of the content per se, but because of everything associated with releasing the novel and publicizing it. The energy required for such a venture needs to be spent on other aspects of life, and the novel itself isn’t a story that needs to be heard; as I said, it simply needed to be written.
This is admittedly hypocritical, as I’ve mentioned before that I don’t believe in writing something that isn’t intended to be read. Rules are, as the cliche goes, made to be broken, and I’m willing to make an exception in this instance at least.
There are some people I’ve contacted about ealy reading, editing, and other production aspects for the novel; all I can say to you is that I thank you for the time you’ve taken with it, and I hope you enjoy the novel as a leisurely read.
Like Glass is still a free download, and still available for purchase for those of you who prefer a hard cover — simply do a search on Amazon (I don’t have the links readily available).
Thank you all for your readership. It’s been an interesting ride.
–Matt
Shattered: Chapter 2
“You did what?” Lisa’s voice was near the same volume it had been on the phone as she and Rob spoke outside. He’d wanted to talk about it outside so Caitlain wouldn’t hear; that plan was backfiring though.
“I didn’t do anything. They fired me.” He was trying to keep his voice from sounding indignant, but it was a little difficult under the circumstances.
“Rob, they wouldn’t fire you for no reason. What did you do?”
“I just messed up a couple of projects.”
She eyed him for a moment. “Bullshit.”
“What?”
“Bullshit. You didn’t just mess up a couple of projects, Rob. What happened?” Her voice was somewhat calmer now, at least. He sighed.
“I missed some deadlines.”
“How many?”
He mumbled quietly.
“What?”
“All of them.”
She shook her head. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Well, I kept telling them they weren’t giving me enough time.”
Lisa sat down on the porch steps. “Rob, you can’t lose your job. What about Caitlain? Jack and I can’t take care of her, we’ve got Mikey to worry about.” Jack was her fiance, and Mikey’s father.
Rob sat down beside her. “Well, there isn’t anything I can do now, just look for another job.”
“Doing what? There’s nothing around here, especially for someone with a tech background.”
“I’ll figure it out.”
“We moved down here from Everett so we could help out a little. Like watch her every once in a while and so we could just be closer to you guys and mom and dad. We can’t take care of another kid Rob.”
“You’re blowing this way out of proportion Lisa. I’ll find another job, no biggie. You won’t have to take care of anyone.”
Lisa sighed and shook her head. “Just do what you can, Rob. I need to get back in there. Shouldn’t leave a six-year-old in charge of an infant, even if the baby is sleeping.” She glared at Rob briefly; he could tell that she was close to changing the statement to match him and Caitlain as well. “Are you guys going to stay for dinner? Jack’s working late, so it’s just me and the kid tonight.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Dinner consisted of macaroni and cheese and hotdogs, something that Rob knew he could’ve made himself on a normal night. He was definitely thankful for the offer though, knowing that he would’ve been quite miserable staring at the cupboards and trying to think of how they were going to pay for dinner in a month or two if he couldn’t find a job. In spite of what he told Lisa, he wasn’t very confident that he could find something; she was right, this wasn’t a good area for tech jobs, regardless of how things may be further north around Seattle or down south around Portland.
That was something he’d worry about tomorrow though. For tonight, he was trying to have a good time with Lisa and Caitlain (Mikey was already in bed, having made a thorough mess of himself with strained peas and carrots; the way it was patterned on the kid’s face was, however, almost artistic). And he was mostly succeeding. After dinner they played some board games, which Caitlain won, and then they watched a Disney movie. Caitlain fell asleep and Rob felt his own eyelids starting to get heavy, so he picked her up and carried her to the car. Lisa followed.
“Look, Rob,” she said after Caitlain was stowed in the passenger seat. “I’m sorry I got so upset earlier. It’s not any of my business, I know.”
“Don’t worry about it. She’s your niece too.”
“Still, I shouldn’t have gotten that mad. You’ll take care of her. I know you will.”
“I’ll try my best,” he said with a mock salute and a smile. She smiled lightly back at him.
“Let me know if you need any help with anything,” she said.
“I will.” Mikey started crying inside, so they said their goodbyes.
After putting Caitlain to bed he mixed up his routine slightly – he didn’t even wait to get outside to polish off his first scotch. It went down a little rough, but he knew they’d get smoother over the course of the night. And what did he have to worry about now? It’s not like he had to wake up early tomorrow and get ready for work. Wake up at seven to get Caitlain ready for school, come back home and go back to bed.
As he started outside, his eyes caught on the picture on the fridge, the one he normally worked so hard to avoid. And he was reminded of why he tried to avoid it: he missed them both still, terribly. Janet, the woman he’d loved and Bill, her husband and the brother he hadn’t loved. Both dead well before their time, and the brother he’d known and hated had grown into a man he would’ve loved and respected.
They still looked unbelievably happy, as they always had, but he no longer hated seeing Bill in that picture instead of himself. All he felt was a kind of sadness at not knowing his brother better, and at harboring so much hatred and jealousy over the eight years of lives he’d missed out on.
He took a deep breath to steady himself, grabbed the bottle of scotch from the top of the refrigerator, and walked out the door to enjoy intoxicated bliss again.
Rob took Caitlain to school the next morning and, instead of going to bed when he got home, turned on the computer. After wandering around aimlessly on the internet for a short time, he stumbled across a link to a blog about a pianist with an upcoming concert in Seattle. She was stunningly gorgeous, and out of curiosity he clicked the link next to her image.
At first he almost went back to one of the previous pages he’d been reading, an article on Wikipedia about Japan’s South Pacific campaign during World War II. After giving the page a quick scroll just to say he’d read the whole thing, he came across a comment by a user with a familiar name. It seemed that the pianist was a fellow student of Dr. Elaine Bishop, and reading the comment told Rob that the good doctor was going to be in Seattle for the student’s concert. At this point, he decided it was worth trying to find out if the student was someone he knew, and after scrolling back up, he came across her name: Carolyn Reed. Not familiar, but he hadn’t expected it to be anyways — surely Dr. Bishop had taught more than a couple concert pianists in her time. He went back to the comment to get Dr. Bishop’s email address (laughing mildly at the lack of privacy the site offered it’s readers), and went to his email program.
He wrote a brief letter to Dr. Bishop of the "Hey, long time no speak" variety. He included his cell phone number in the email, and was surprised when she called before he had time to get back deep in his web surfing.
"Rob, it’s good to hear from you again! How’s everything been going?"
"Fine. A little bumpy last year, but things are looking up again," he lied.
"That’s good, Rob. How’s the piano coming?"
"Good, good,” which was at least partly true – his playing was going well, it was just making it feel like music that wasn’t doing so hot. “Listen," he said, hoping to move the subject to something a little less uncomfortable, "I see you’re coming up here for a concert?"
"Yes, the concert’s Friday, as a matter of fact. Actually, I was just walking out the door to go home and finish packing when I got your email. You should hear Carolyn play Rob; she’s probably the second best student I’ve had in thirty years." Something about the tone of her voice told him exactly who she thought was the best student, but he didn’t ask.
"Well give me a call when your flight lands, maybe we can do something."
"I doubt that; I arrive at six in the morning."
"Yeah, probably a little early. But we can still get together."
"That’d be great. And then you can tell me the truth as to why you haven’t been practicing." He smiled a little at that, then they said their goodbyes and hung up.
After picking Caitlain up without incidence (though not without a couple of stern looks from whom he assumed to be either the principal or her teacher), they drove back over to Lisa’s, who had invited them over for dinner once again. This time, Lisa had made spaghetti, having a bit more warning that there would be company. Again, though, Jack was working late.
“So, does he do that often?” Rob asked, referring to Lisa’s missing fiancé as they cleaned up after the meal. Caitlain was already glued to the television set.
“Yeah. At least, recently he has. They’ve put him on a new project and he’s actually spending most of his days up in Seattle. Sometimes he’ll even stay there for about a week or so, and the company pays the hotel.”
“Oh, that’s neat. Where does he work again?”
“Gregson’s Meat Packing. He’s the main account rep for Washington and Idaho.” She said this with less pride than Rob expected, but it was still noticeable in her voice.
“They wouldn’t be hiring, would they?”
“Sorry Rob, already asked. They’re actually cutting hours in most of their plants.”
“No problem.” His breath caught in his throat as he looked at her. For just a brief second, perhaps because of the lighting, the family resemblance between Lisa and her deceased sister was more than striking. They could’ve passed for twins even. He stared at her as long as he felt he could get away with it, then shuddered slightly.
“We’d better get going,” he said, turning away from her.
“Is everything okay? You look a little pale.”
“Yeah, yeah. Everything’s fine, just got a little woozy there for a second. I’ll be fine, we just need to get home. It’s getting late.”
“Well, okay. Thanks for helping me clean up.”
“Thanks for having us. Caitlain?” he called into the other room. “Come on, we need to go.” A mildly resentful sigh could be heard over the television set, but he could also hear her getting up.
That night, Janet was closer than ever, much as he’d expected her to be after seeing her reflected in Lisa’s features so distinctly. It was almost scary, not even like having seen a ghost, but like having seen someone whom you’d personally seen buried walking around like nothing had ever happened.
The scotch was there though. The scotch was killing Janet again, though it was a welcome death this time. He was already on his third glass, and, like the night before, he’d brought the bottle with him to make the night move along a little quicker. He noticed he was almost out, and made a mental note to get some more tomorrow during his time off.
That was something the scotch wasn’t so effective against. What the hell was he going to do? How was he going to pay the bills once their savings were gone? He sighed and took a drag off his cigarette. It would have to wait until tomorrow at least. There wasn’t anything he could do about it tonight. Not that the thought stopped him from worrying about it of course, it just let him put it in the back of his mind instead of nagging so forcefully at the front.
Shattered: Chapter 1
Note: This is the first chapter from Shattered, the sequel to Like Glass. It does contain some strong language, and it’s also still in the “editing room” — it’s subject to change without warning. In the mean time though, please enjoy.
This was bliss. Caitlain in bed, a tumbler of scotch with just enough ice in one hand, a freshly lit cigarette in the other hand, sitting on the back porch under only the stars to light the sky.
Okay, Rob Jackson thought to himself, pulling his jacket in a little tighter, it’s very cold bliss. The temperature was hovering in the upper thirties, fairly normal for December in Washington, but the scotch would take care of that in another glass or two. And besides, the cold brought out the scent of the pine trees like nothing else could, made the air fresher and more vibrant. He smiled, took a drag off his cigarette, sipped some of the scotch, and tried to relax.
It was Sunday, the night he needed the scotch the most. Sunday nights brought Monday mornings, and tomorrow was worse than normal. Tomorrow was supposed to see him in Jason’s office with the presentation on where the company was falling behind, a presentation that (and Rob snorted at the irony) was nowhere near complete. He still needed another week, and he’d told Jason that the deadline was too soon when the task was given to him. Did Jason listen?
Of course not.
Fuck ‘em if they can’t take a joke, Rob said to himself as he sipped some more of the scotch. Hell, joke ‘em if they can’t take a fuck. He laughed out loud and finished the rest of the tumbler off at a draught, coughing slightly at the burn. He snuffed his cigarette out and went inside to pour himself another glass, careful to keep his eyes away from the picture on the refrigerator door, the one he’d never had the heart to remove.
He sat back down, treading carefully around the pang of guilt he normally felt with his second glass of the night. Only temporary, he reminded himself. Just until she’s completely gone. When he didn’t think of her anymore at night, he’d quit; it was already probably getting out of hand, but she still came to him. He’d found out the scotch kept her away quite by accident, having had one too many at Marty’s one night and getting the best night sleep he’d had since he’d buried Janet and her son (his son, too; he still had problems thinking of the kid that way, even though it’d been almost a year since he’d found out).
Janet.
Did he think that? Or whisper it out loud? He couldn’t tell – and not from the alcohol, either. Her name came to his mind so frequently, and to his lips almost as often, that he’d stopped paying attention most of the time.
So he drank.
Not too much. Just at night, mostly, to take the edge off of life, off of her presence. Just a tumbler or two. Or five. It really just depended on how strongly he felt her around.
She was around tonight. He could feel her, her breath in the cold night air, whispering soundlessly in his ear. Her fingers played lightly at his hair with each breeze. Her eyes…
He stopped the thought with another drink, then lit a cigarette to drive the silence home. He needed something else to focus on, or else he’d drive himself crazy.
Work. Work was always good to distract himself with. He could think of work. He could think of the project that was supposed to be done tomorrow morning – actually supposed to have been done Friday afternoon and presented tomorrow morning.
He took a deep sigh, another drink of his scotch, and shook his head. He needed to go to bed, it was already getting late – at least ten o’ clock, probably closer to eleven. He didn’t feel like looking at the clock though. He wasn’t tired yet, and he needed another drink to get the edge of the night dulled enough so he could sleep. He looked at his glass, finished it off, and went inside for another.
Monday morning was almost as bad as he’d expected. Jason was pissed, of course, and everyone else just glared at him during the meeting where he was supposed to be giving his presentation. Without the presentation, they moved on to other topics and the meeting was quite short.
“You had three weeks to get this done, Robert,” Jason said after the meeting. His office was much nicer than Rob’s cube, of course; one of the perks of being vice president was you generally didn’t have to stare at gray cloth all day. “Would you mind explaining to me why we’re talking about this, instead of figuring out what to do about the company’s bottlenecks?”
Rob sighed. “I told you it was going to take longer than three weeks Jason. I had to wait to get numbers from each department, and you know that no one ever jumps right up to do stuff like that. They’re already swamped; they don’t have time for this.”
“That doesn’t matter. It was your job to convince them that this was more important than day-to-day ops.” Jason sat down and turned on his computer. “We only have three weeks before we start the next release and you know that your evaluation is a key part of getting everything ready.”
“I know, Jason, I know.” Rob fidgeted while Jason stared at him.
“Do you really? Because I’m beginning to sense a pattern with you. This is the third time you missed a major deadline – a very generous deadline, I might add – and it’s getting annoying Robert. That’s not to mention the ‘normal’ projects we give you.” Jason typed something and stared at the monitor for a couple of seconds, then nodded. “We’ve already given you verbal warnings, and we’ve written you up twice.”
Rob’s breath caught as he realized where this was going. “Am I being let go?”
“You’ve left us without a choice, Robert.” Jason’s voice was calm, almost apologetic now. “I mean, seriously, how long did you expect us to put up with it? We invested a lot of man power into bringing you up to speed, and you wasted it. We gave you several opportunities – more than we normally give people, because we saw a lot of potential in you. But…” he waved his hands. “We can only go so far, and you were supposed to meet us halfway. You didn’t.”
“Look, I can change, I can fix it.”
“Robert, you had lots of chances to ‘fix’ it. I’m sorry.”
“Seriously, I’ll do better.”
“We’ve already hired your replacement. I just got the word right now,” he said, pointing at the computer screen. “We didn’t find much point in letting you know we were interviewing anyone in case you somehow pulled through today. You didn’t, and Roger made his decision as you were struggling to defend yourself this morning.” Roger was the head of HR, and not a very pleasant person. It didn’t surprise Rob in the slightest that Roger had been the one to pull the trigger.
Rob nodded. “Okay, then. I’ll um… I’ll clean out my cube.”
“I hope you understand, Rob. It’s nothing personal.”
“Yeah, I know. Sorry it didn’t work out.”
“Me too,” Jason said, turning back to the computer.
With his newly opened Monday, Rob found himself sitting at Marty’s pub. He was the only one there, of course, other than Marty himself.
“Man, that stinks Rob. Sorry to hear that,” Marty said as Rob finished explaining a version of what had happened. Of course he’d left out most of the details, explaining only that he’d screwed up on a couple of projects – regularly missing deadlines wasn’t something he was going to discuss with pride.
“Yeah, well, it happens. I was getting tired of the place anyways.” He sipped the scotch that Marty had given him on the house as a consolation for his poor fortune.
“So what ya gonna do next?”
“Don’t know. Just keep my eyes open, I guess.”
“Yeah…” Marty’s eyes grew a little distant. The jukebox came on and the song it played put Rob even deeper into the poor mood he was trying to hide. Marty recognized it immediately as well, and knew Rob well enough to get up and turn the volume down before Jimmy Durante had even gotten to explain that a kiss was still a kiss.
“Sorry, I keep meaning to take that damned CD out of there.”
“No problem.” Rob finished his scotch and stood up. “I’d better get moving anyways.”
“Sure, sure. Hey, stop by anytime, you know that. You want to just shoot the shit or something, I’m here.”
“Yeah, of course. Thanks Marty.”
“No problem. See you around.”
Rob sat at the piano, waiting for something to happen. Like missing deadlines, this was another pattern that he’d started not long after Janet’s accident – sitting on the bench, staring blankly at the piano more out of force of habit than out of actually wanting to play. He’d try forcing the notes out, but it always sounded lifeless, mechanical. There wasn’t anything behind the music anymore.
He’d tried playing everything, too. Rachmaninoff and Chopin. Beethoven and Mozart. Jazz standards and ragtime. Classical music and rock and roll. Nothing. The notes were there but the passion was gone. In fact, he was playing better than ever from a technical standpoint, playing pieces like Liszt’s Hungarian Rhapsody or Rimsky-Korsakov’s Flight of the Bumblebee almost flawlessly. Even Rachmaninoff’s third piano concerto, touted by some as one of the most challenging concertos around, was almost up to tempo – he had some problems with the first movement cadenza and some of the third movement, but no one would be able to tell that he’d taken eight years away from the piano by listening to him play.
Today he tried to flavor the music with alcohol, a rare event, as the only times he really drank was when Caitlain was in bed asleep and the piano would easily waken the child. It didn’t bring life to the music, but at least he didn’t care as much. He played for well over an hour, staring expressionlessly at the keys as his arms and fingers ran through their familiar motions. When he started to feel his arms getting tired, he closed the piano and went outside to smoke.
The day was beautiful at least. A rare sunny day in winter, the late afternoon sun casting a golden hue over everything. It was still quite cold though – he figured it was probably in the upper forties, maybe lower fifties. He couldn’t smell the trees quite as much as the night before, but the scent of pine was still a light undertone to the soft breeze. The phone rang as he lit his cigarette and he sighed. He went inside to get the cordless phone and was surprised to see Lisa’s number on the called ID. He quickly answered it.
“Hello?”
“Rob? Where the hell are you?” She definitely was not happy.
“I’m at home, why?”
“Do you know what time it is?”
“Uh…” he looked at his watch. Four-thirty. “Oh crap.”
“Exactly. Do you know where Caitlain is?”
“At school?”
“No, she’s not. She’s here with me. Can you tell me why I received a call from the school telling me that there was a six-year-old standing around waiting to be picked up?”
“I’m sorry. I had a bad day, and it slipped my mind. I’ll explain later.”
“You bet your ass you will. I have a six-month-old baby to take care of and I don’t need to pack everything up into the car and go pick up your kid because you had a bad day!” By the time Lisa hung up on him, Rob had the phone almost at arm’s length and was still able to hear her perfectly fine.
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