Justin drifted out of the living room where most of his aunts and some cousins and his mother were planning a baby shower. He passed the den where most of his uncles sat in front of the TV watching a football game in re-runs and acting like they’d never seen it before.
Someone in the kitchen started tapping out a rhythm with a spoon on a bottle. Justin just naturally drifted that direction. Sure enough Cousin Joe had a beer bottle in one hand and a spoon in the other.
“Hey, Justin. Pull up a chair. Got your guitar with you?”
“This is good enough.” He took a couple of spoons out of the drawer.
“Aw, come on. I didn’t bring my mandolin,” Aunt Taylor said. “Let me do spoons.” She reached toward his hand as if to pluck them right out.
“You can borrow my mandolin.” He moved the spoons out of her reach. “And Lucy can use my guitar. Hey, Lucy.”
“You always did like rhythm better,” Cousin Lucy grumbled. But she pulled a penny whistle out of a back pocket.
“Yep.” Justin grinned. “I’ve got some new stuff up in my room. Come help me bring it down.”
“Oh no you don’t.” Justin’s mother walked into the kitchen. “You music people are not taking over my kitchen again.”
“But my room’s too small,” Justin pointed out perfectly reasonably.
“You people will block the fridge just like you did last week. Then you’re father will complain,” She nailed Justin with a glare. “Out. Use the back yard.” She made flapping gestures as if they were a flock of geese or something.
With a fair amount of grumbling most of the people in the kitchen went out the back door. Lucy followed him up to his rooms along with Taylor, both promising to help him haul instruments into the back yard.
“So, you coming to Riley with us next Sunday?”
“To the bluegrass jam? I don’t know.” Justin tried to remember if there was supposed to be band practice then.
“Oh come one. It’s not like you have anything better to do.” Taylor gave his shoulder a shove.
“Actually…”
“Seriously. We need you to hold down the bass. I’ll bring the bass.” Lucy grinned and wiggled her eyebrows. “I’ll drive the truck so we can bring some other instruments, too.”
“They’ll be serving opossum.” Taylor wiggled her eyebrows in imitation of Lucy. “Or maybe raccoon or something. You never know.”
“No, really. I think I’m supposed to have band practice then.”
“In the summer?”
“Not school band. I mean my rock band. Malaprop.”
“Wait. You mean you are seriously playing music? Like gigs and stuff?”
“Not just jamming?”
The women looked at each other like neither had ever heard of such a thing before. Justin grit his teeth. This was why he’d never told anyone about it.
“Yes. I’m playing in a rock and roll band. We get paid to play.”
“Well,” Taylor said oh-so-reasonably. “As long as you don’t forget your roots.”
Lucy nodded vigorously, and they all went right back to horsing around as though he’d never said a thing.
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