Sisters Of The Moon

Chapter 3

Our show for the night was finished when Robin said there was a phone call for me. I didn't know who could have called, I picked up the phone. "Hello?" "There you are you bitch, think you can travel the world and sing your little songs." I knew that scratchy voice anywhere it was my dad. "Dad, why did you call?" I tried to say calmly. "Well sorry for bothering you Little Miss Popstar!" my father slurred, "Figured I'd tell you that your fucking brother died." I looked up from the floor, my brother Jonathan was dead. He was another dead beat, he wasn't always though. Of course I'm sure my dad wasn't always either.

"How did he die, Dad?" I asked. Stevie tapped me on the shoulder while I listened. "You okay?" she mouthed. I nodded, "Just my dad. " I responded while my father went on another drunken rant before answering my question. Long story short, Jonathan died of alcohol poisoning. "If your royal highness can make it, the funeral is back home in three days." My dad grumbled. "Got it, see you then." I said quickly, hanging up the phone. "What did he want?" Stevie asked, Robin was right next to her. They both had their arms crossed, neither of them liked my father but who can blame them. Hell I don't even like him. "Jonathan died of alcohol poisoning, I'm going back to Phoenix tomorrow." I sighed. "Want us to come with?" Robin asked. Stevie patted my shoulder, "We can pause the tour for this." I looked at her, "You sure?" She nodded, "Of course! It's just a few days no biggie."

Lindsey decided to come with, I guess he figured he needed to protect us all from the drunken mess back home. Christine, John, and Mick flew to Phoenix too, we were doing a show there anyways. It was just a matter of pushing the date back a day or two. No fans needed new tickets.

Our first stop was Stevie's folks' house, the four of us decided to stay there it was closer to my dad and where the weekend's lovely festivities would take place. Robin and Lindsey stayed there while Stevie and I went to my dad's.

Weeds and grass were over grown, a chained up dirty dog barked at us while we walked up the drive way, the rusty car parked in the middle of it had its hood propped up, and what do you know it was the same house I remembered it as.
I knocked on the old door...nothing, I knocked on it again...nothing, and finally I banged on it with the palm of my hand. Sure enough the door cracked open, there was my loving father. His gray hair was shaggy and long, he was in a robe and boxers, and he looked like he hadn't shaved in weeks. His blood shot brown eyes were surrounded by bags and wrinkles, he looked like hell.

"What?" he exclaimed. "Dad, I need to know what time to show up tonight and tomorrow." I said. My grandparents paid for a wake and funeral, which meant two more times I had to see my family.

"Well sorry Princess, I forgot to inform you. Wake is at 6 and funeral is at 10." His beard was stained brown from beer, it was disgusting. "Got it." I mumbled and Stevie and I started to turn around to leave. "So how's this singing shit going with Miss Perfect?" my dad pointed at Stevie. "Its going fine Dad, I gotta go." We left as he yelled back at us.

"Wow." Stevie said in the car as she drove back to her house, "He hasn't changed at all." I nodded, "I think he's gotten worse." "You're not kidding!" Stevie teased. I laughed, my dad has always been shit. Lindsey always had a bone to pick with him, no one treated "his girls" as he said like that. For some reason I always went to visit my dad when I was back home, Stevie came with for support. Soon enough I just stopped, at some point its just time to give up.

"You little bitch!" My dad screamed as he hit me again. 1974, I was living with Buckingham-Nicks while they worked on their music. We all decided to go home to Phoenix and I decided to visit my dad. One thing lead to another and the fists come out. My dad drank a lot that day, even for him. He smacked me over and over, I gave up trying to fight him, it never helped.