To Hell in a Coach Bag

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To Hell in a Coach Bag Page 8

by M. J. Schiller


  Without further encouragement, I scaled the fence. It was easy. Horizontal boards were spaced a decent distance apart, making it pretty much like climbing a ladder. Except for it was raining pretty hard now. And I was in my rock n' roll boots. I reached the top and observed my surroundings, rubbing my hands, which were roughed up by the unfinished wood.

  A mass of tour busses was parked below me. To my right a gate led out to the parking lot where dozens of security people and parking lot attendants were milling around, but no one was looking in my direction. All they would have to do is glance up, and I'd be a dead duck. I started to question my decision to climb the fence, but swung my leg over to the other side. Luckily, this side was built the same way, and I didn't have any trouble getting down, until the last several feet where I simply needed to drop, onto my fatally high-heeled boots. Cheap as they were, I was afraid I'd shatter the heels, but they held out. Not even a wobble. Sure, a shock of pain coursed up my legs, but everything had its price.

  I crept out from behind the tour bus, adopting a relaxed attitude to try to fit in. I surveyed the area. Several people milled around, but they all seemed comfortable—not on the lookout for some idiot to scale the fence, I guess—so I roamed about, trying to figure out what direction to go. To my left and up a short flight of stairs people partied on a patio—people with passes, which I didn't have. I tried to call Sam, but got her voicemail.

  "Where the hell are you?" I whispered loudly. "I got back here. But I don't know what to do now. I'll call you back." I hung up, and a man approached me. I recognized him as the guard who let in my friend with the hat.

  He smiled at me pleasantly. "Excuse me, but do you have a pass?" He was a big, dark-skinned man with a Jamaican accent.

  I was never good at lying. Sam could have this man convinced of anything without flinching, but I simply answered, cringing as I anticipated his response.

  "No."

  "How did you get in?"

  "I climbed over the fence," I answered sheepishly. I gestured in its direction. By this time, I was certain I appeared very similar to a drowning rat as the rain hadn't lightened. In fact, it was worse.

  He took in the fence and then raised his eyebrows with grudging respect for my tenacity. "You'll have to leave."

  "Okay." I sighed, cursing the gene that made me so damned honest. He watched me halfway to the gate, where another female guard stood talking to some woman. I contemplated turning back around, calling Sam as I debated my options. I smiled at the woman. "I can't find my friend." I shrugged, still within the confines of the backstage area, trying to judge how diligent this guard was with her job.

  Sam picked up. "Where are you?" I blurted out.

  "They kicked me out. I'm searching for the car. Do you remember where we parked?"

  "No. I was so excited I bolted out of the car without thinking to check where we were." Sam was thrown out. I needed to find her. The jig was up. I wasn't going to meet Chase or see the roadie who had been vexing my thoughts since the last time I saw him. My shoulders slumped as if the air was let out of me. In fact, everything about me drooped, as my clothes were weighted with water. Resigned to my fate, I passed through the fence, and headed toward the outer gate.

  "Me, too. Oh, Dani. I'm so cold and wet."

  Regret stabbed my gut. "I'm sorry. This is my fault."

  "No, don't worry. We'd be walking around getting wet trying to find the car anyway."

  I blinked water out of my eyes, scanning the parking lot. "Where are you?"

  "I walked straight out from gate A-3."

  I glanced over my shoulder, noticing my bare upper chest sparkled with water and my sheer blouse stuck to me. "I'm straight out from A-3, too, but I don't see you." I squinted through the raindrops, trying to make out her familiar form in the dark. I knew "straight out" was a relative term, depending on your perspective, but this part of the lot was pretty empty now.

  "Hey, want a ride? We've got room for one more," a guy hollered from his pick-up.

  I smiled at him, but kept trudging on, my rock n' roll boots crunching through the wet, muddy, loose gravel as I still held the receiver to my ear.

  "You've got one sweet ass!" he yelled after me. I turned to smile at him again, though walking backward. It was nice to have someone flirting with me after watching men hit on Sam all night long. "AND I LIKE IT!" he added, in case I wasn't getting the picture.

  "Hey," I told Sam. "I just got told I have a 'sweet ass', and he, in fact, 'likes it.'"

  "I found it!" she screamed happily. "I found the car. Hold on. I'll flash the lights for you."

  My eyes roamed over the parking lot. Fifty yards from me, cars were snaking their way out. Here and there, isolated cars were parked, but no Sam.

  "Do you see me? I'm flashing my lights."

  The wet was becoming uncomfortably cold. I rubbed my arms. "No. I don't see you."

  "Where are you?"

  I searched around. "I see a sign that says A-3 on a lamppost."

  "Head to the sign. I see it. There's a dumpster there. Do you see me? I'm flashing my lights."

  "No, I don't see... wait... I see the dumpster." I started running for it. "A guy's taking a leak by it."

  "That's it. I'm right in front of it."

  "I see you. I see you!" My cries drew looks from the few people who were still in the parking lot.

  We were both laughing when I got into the car, soaked and bedraggled.

  She pointed the SUV to the entrance. "Oh, my gosh. I'm so cold and wet."

  "Dude, I'm sorry. If I didn't climb over that fence—"

  "Are you kidding? Like I said, we would have never found the car in the parking lot, so we would have been wet either way. Didn't see him, huh?"

  "Nope." My enthusiasm drained out of me like the water dripping from my clothes.

  Sam squeezed my hand. "Maybe next time."

  "Yeah." I exhaled, but gave her a squeeze back. "How about we get out of here and get something to eat?"

  "You're on."

  We drove around for an hour trying to find some place open to eat and finally lighted on a Fridays. We were decadent and ordered cheesecake and hot chocolate to warm us up. Discovering the people at the table next to us were at the concert, too, we compared notes and chatted before they left. A young man at the bar from Texas serenaded us, loudly, and with a degree of talent, and then we headed to the hotel Bill already checked us into. While chatting with the front desk clerk we discovered Chase and the band spent the night there the evening before.

  As we rode the elevator up, Sam commented, "To think, Dani... Chase could have been in this very elevator."

  It made me wonder. Did our roadie spend the night here as well? So close, and yet so far away... the story of my life.

  Later, as we lay in the dark, Samantha's phone buzzed where she was charging it on the nightstand between us.

  "Who would be calling you so late?"

  She sat on one elbow and flipped the phone open. In the light from the screen, I could see her eyes light up. "It's Kyle."

  I groaned. "Doesn't he know what time it is?"

  "He's probably mixed up with the time change. Shut up." She clicked receive. "Aloha." Sam listened for a moment, then laughed and said, "Yeah. Dani went over a twenty-foot wall, in the rain, with her rock and roll boots on." She laughed. "Yeah, she's here." She held the phone away and squinted at the screen. "He wants me to put him on speaker phone."

  "Hi, Kyle," I said wearily.

  "Dani, you doofus. Don't do that shit when I'm not around to catch your ass when you fall."

  Sam snickered with a hand over her mouth. I smiled. It was good to hear his voice.

  "I'm sorry, Kyle. You're right. I was being an idiot. I won't do it again unless I'm tethered to you."

  He chuckled. "And how come you didn't convince your beautiful cohort there to come to Hawaii with me?"

  "She's deathly afraid of flying."

  "That's what she told me, but I thought she was blow
ing me off."

  "Besides..." Sam said, peering at me with a question in her eyes. I nodded to encourage her. "I hardly know you. I'm easy, but not that easy."

  He busted out laughing. "Well, there's a way to remedy that. The getting to know me part, that is."

  "How, when you're in Canada, and I'm in Illinois?"

  "You ladies need to come to one of my games. I'll send you my schedule."

  I yawned. "Sounds good, Kyle."

  "Oh, geez. What time is it there?"

  Sam stole a glance at the clock. "Around two."

  "Oh, man. Sorry. My calculations were all wrong. I should let you get some sleep. Call me sometime, Sam, and we can talk. And Dani, keep your feet on terra firma."

  "You got it. Bye, Kyle."

  "Good night, ladies."

  Sam closed the phone with a sigh and lay back on her pillow.

  "You should call him again like he said, Sam. Get to know him."

  "Yeah. Maybe. Good night, Dani."

  "G'nite."

  I decided, as Sam lay in the next bed breathing deeply, there would be no more fences scaled. No man was worth that, I told myself. It was foolish, and it was time for me to give it up, along with my hopes of ever meeting that roadie again.

  Chapter 6

  Samantha

  I glanced over at Jake's oboe in the seat beside me, riding along like a reluctant participant or some co-conspirator in my crime. I knew I needed to toughen up and make my son be more responsible for his things... then again, being responsible is overrated. For instance, I'm now going to be late for work. Will the world stop? Is the sun gonna fall out of the sky because little, old me is late for work? I don't think so. I would have been late anyway, so what if it's five minutes or fifteen, the boss would wear that same angry, disappointed look she usually gave me. No biggie.

  Next to the oboe, my pink cell phone buzzed and almost made me jump, as if the instrument had come to life and was going to walk itself to the school. I flipped it open and smiled. Dani.

  "What's up, girlfriend?"

  "Starbuck's Delivery Service," she said with a nasally twang. "Would you like to try our new Cinnamon Littlies?" She switched back to her normal voice. "Callin' to get your Starbuck's order this morning. You up for your usual Grande Vanilla Latte, Non-fat, Light-whip, or you in the mood for something else?"

  "You are truly an angel, Dani. I so need some Starbuck's right now. A Vanilla Latte will be fine."

  "Gotcha. Oh, and... I've been in already, and I thought I should warn you... the Boss Lady is playing her 'Mama Mia' CD again."

  My smile widened. This was a subject on which Dani and I frequently railed. "No, friggin' way."

  "Yes, ma'am. I kid you not. This has got to be against the Geneva Convention or something... cruel and unusual punishment."

  "No doubt. This is like the third day in a row. And I hate Abba."

  Dani giggled. "And this isn't even really Abba. It's like, freakin' Abba-wannabes."

  "Ugh. Thanks for the warning. Better upsize that latte."

  "You got it. Hey, I tried to call you last night but it was busy for hours."

  I hesitated. "I was talking to Kyle."

  "You were?" I could hear the hope in her voice.

  "Yes. But don't get any of your thoughts. It was only a phone conversation." But I wondered about that. We'd engaged in a number of lengthy conversations, and each time I'd tell myself it was our last, but I could never seem to stick to that. He seemed so warm and sincere, and funny... but that was what I thought about Bill when I married him, and, other than my three kids, that turned out to be a total fiasco.

  "All right. If you say so. See ya soon."

  I clicked off the phone and turned up the radio as I pulled into my son's school parking lot. Thank God for Dani and Starbuck's. Without them, I'd never get through the day. My much younger ex-boyfriend got wise a few months ago and stopped bringing me Starbuck's every morning in hopes of winning me back. So now, I had to get it myself or depend on the mercy of others. And maybe the boss would be a little more understanding of my tardiness with her Chai Tea in hand.

  It had been a week or two since the concert Dani and I attended in Chicago. I couldn't believe how much fun the two of us had when we were out together. God truly put Dani in my life at the perfect time. I caught my husband cheating on me with a girl I thought was my friend, and now was stuck raising our three kids by myself. Every day I spent my time in a place I liked to call "Kid Hell." My eighteen-year-old son, Ryan, suddenly decided I was dumber than a sack of dirt, and not nearly as much fun, and it was hard to bear much authority when the kid towered over me. Whenever I asked my ex to talk to him, he'd give me lip service.

  "Yeah. Yeah. I'll talk to him."

  But he never really came through. My fifteen-year-old, Jake, had attention-deficit disorder and, God love him, drove me up the wall until his medicine kicked in every morning. And my baby, Katie, who was thirteen, had me wrapped around her little finger, so sweet and helpful...

  I knew some day she'd turn on me, too. It was a matter of time.

  I crossed town and by the time I pulled into the back parking lot of the school, I was the last to arrive, as usual. I collected my pink phone and my new purse, took a deep breath, and headed inside, a plausible excuse for my tardiness on my lips. As the door squeaked open, giving me away, Maxine turned and looked at me, then glanced up at the clock. Damn. I should have called Dani and asked her to let me in the back way so I could pretend I'd been there all along.

  "I know I'm late, Maxie, but I've got a good reason."

  "Oh, yeah," she responded dryly. "What's your 'good excuse' today?"

  "This horrible accident...."

  "Funny, 'cause Dani lives on that side of town, too, and she made it to work on time. Even stopped for Starbuck's."

  She raised her Chai Tea to her mouth and I noticed a hint of a smile on her lips. Dani saved me again. Maxine was razzing me, but she wasn't really mad. I smiled.

  "The accident must have happened right after Dani went through, then." I waltzed past her toward the office where we hung our coats and changed into nonskid shoes. "I'll work twice as hard today, Maxie. I swear. I brought my A-game today."

  "That's what you said yesterday," she called after me, without seeming to try to hide her air of disgust.

  I ignored her remark, and pulled on an apron, returning to the kitchen as I tied it. "Boy, check out this outfit. I'm looking sharp today." I did a runway walk and posed, while everyone laughed. I had on one of Ryan's T-shirts, which was bright kelly green, pink sweats, and my worn, heavily-soiled beige Uggs. "Oh, wait. I've got to show you guys my new purse." I snuck back to the office and returned with my new Coach purse. This was a sort of morning ritual, to catch up on whatever was new in each other's lives.

  "Oooh. It's cute," Dani cooed, taking it. "It's got that whole side-saddle, Pony Express bag thing going for it."

  Ever practical, Alex broke in with, "Another Coach? How can you afford those things?"

  "Oh, I only paid two-hundred for it. I had gift cards."

  Dani held it out as if not to defile it with her touch. "This purse costs two-hundred dollars?"

  Alex snorted. "Two-hundred? Try three."

  Dani's mouth dropped open. "You paid three-hundred dollars for this?"

  Oh shit. Here we go. I should have known better. There was a bunch of hoopla the time I brought in my two-hundred-dollar pair of jeans. I should have kept my piehole shut. The jeans were cute and sported real Swarovski crystals. And then when they found out I had them dry-cleaned, whooey, the shit hit the proverbial fan, then. I really didn't get it. Besides, I used gift cards so I only spent sixty-some on them. "No. I only paid two hundred—"

  "But she had a hundred in gift cards."

  I couldn't help but shock Alex as she stood there with that self-righteous look on her face. "Actually, it was four altogether."

  "What?" Dani and Maxine hollered at the same time.

  "Four-hund
red dollars!" Maxine shouted.

  "But it only cost me—"

  "Yeah, yeah. We got it, two-hundred. Still."

  Dani swung a hand over my shoulder and handed me my latte. "You know, girlfriend, I usually have your back on stuff like this, but I've got to say... four-hundred dollars for a purse? And I don't care what you say about your gift cards, you still paid four-hundred dollars for the purse. You could have used those gift cards and gotten a whole bunch of reasonably priced stuff."

  "But the whole idea of a gift card is to get something you want," I wheedled. "Something maybe you wouldn't get on your own. And check out this purse. Feel the leather."

  "It is nice," Dani admitted. "But four-hundred dollars? Do you know how many concert tickets we could have bought with that?"

  I thought about this, then "clinked" my cup with Dani's. "True dat. But I still don't think you're getting the fabulousness of this purse yet. Put it on." Dani immediately obeyed. "Now, walk with it." She turned and strutted along the side of the stainless steel table in the middle of the kitchen. She posed dramatically with a hand on her side, and then sauntered back, sexily swinging her hips. What cracked me up the most was the fact she had no idea how truly stunning she was. It was all a joke to her.

  "Work it, honey," Alex teased and Dani flipped her hair and gave her best pouty expression. Everyone laughed.

  "Now, don't you feel it? The power of the purse?" I gave her a wink.

  "Now that you mention it," she said slowly, playing along, "I do feel more powerful."

  "Oh, right." Alex rolled her eyes. "Give me that purse." She snatched it from Dani's shoulder and did her own little runway thing while we cat-called and wolf-whistled.

  "So...?" I prompted.

  Alexis stood as if thinking about it. "I got nothing. It seems the same as any old purse."

  "Not that this isn't an interesting debate, ladies, but we've been on the clock now for fifteen minutes and done exactly nothing to get lunch ready."

  "I got the soapy buckets ready," Dani offered.

  Maxine stared at her. "Like I said, we've done nothing. So let's get to work."

 

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