Brandee talked her way into an invitation to The Opera House in Grand Junction. It was only 300 miles from Laramie and would leave them a manageable 500 miles to get to Jackpot. It was a grueling couple of days, and the pay wasn't going to be great at either The Opera House in Grand Junction or Sneaky Pete's Casino in Jackpot, but it kept Brandee in groceries until they made it back to the West Coast where the venues would be larger again.
Brandee Evans was looking forward to both The Opera House and to Sneaky Pete's. She liked being the only performer on the card. Ideally, of course, she wanted to be the headliner of a large card of performers. Since they hadn't gotten that far, though, she liked being the only act. That way, she could feel like a headliner. She didn't feel the need to stay backstage after the others in her group had left, just so she could gauge the applause that other groups were getting and compare it to what Brandee had received. When Brandeegear had come out with tour tee shirts, she had made sure that the stops where they performed alone were decorated with stars.
Jake and Brandee had ridden in silence as they crossed into Colorado and continued on Colorado State Route 127. The road was anything but freeway, serpentining its way into Colorado's beautiful Front Range, but Jake pretended that he needed to concentrate on his driving even more carefully than was actually necessary. For the first time in forever, he didn't know what to say to Brandee. The beauty of his surroundings was as lost to him as they had been when he had awakened at The Holiday Inn that morning. Jake pondered that disturbing fact.
Brandee appeared to be largely unperturbed. While she didn't enjoy arguing with Jake and realized that the silence was heavy and awkward in the Sprinter, she also assumed that Jake would be preparing his apology to present to her any minute now. He had never failed her before, so she had no reason to believe that it would be any different this time. She told herself that he was just being stubborn and making it take longer this time. Privately, she accused him of trying to sabotage her performance that night by making her feel bad. She couldn't understand why he wanted to be mean. Weren't they happy enough without having a mewling little brat running around?
Shortly after leaving the winding path that was CO-127 behind and merging on to Interstate 70, Jake and Brandee stopped for lunch in Glenwood Springs. Jake tried to open up a line of communication with his wife at the 19th Street Diner.
“Honey, we need to talk this thing out, I think," Jake started. “I don't want to fight.”
She reached across the table and patted his hand. “I don't want to either, Jake. I need to be happy.”
Jake noted her use of “I” as opposed to “we”, but figured that it was just a coincidental slip of the tongue.
“We can talk about the whole baby thing later,” he continued. “When we don't have the tour on our mind.”
Brandee's face darkened. As long as they were into it, she thought, they might as well put it to bed.
“I don't think you understand what it's all about, Jake. This tour is about getting noticed. I want to be somebody! I want to cut records when we go home. That's a lot of work. Then I want to tour again. Bigger places this time. Bigger paydays. I don't just want to be famous, Jake. I want to be rich, too!”
She laughed then. It was the first time that Jake had heard her laugh since the argument the previous night. While Jake loved to hear her laugh, this one sat on his ears with a hollow ring to it. He felt that a gulf had opened between Brandee and himself, and there he sat, without a bridge to cross it with.
Jake and Brandee completed their lunch in silence. Later, if someone had asked Jake what he had eaten, he wouldn't have been able to answer. His food tasted like sand to him. He had a feeling that something had happened that he and Brandee might not be able to repair, and he was heartsick over it. He didn't know how to make it right with Brandee, and he didn't know how to get all right in his own mind.
***
That afternoon, Jake and Brandee arrived at The Opera House in Grand Junction just a few minutes after the musicians. Even though the Nissan had left Laramie significantly earlier than the Sprinter, Diane had considerately avoided the torturous CO-127. She had followed I-25 through Ft. Collins and connected with I-70 from just west of Denver. It had added miles and hours but was a much more comfortable ride for her ever nauseous good friend Suzi. Diane had suggested this route to Jake earlier, and asked if it was okay with him if their lead time to the venue was a little less than usual. He had run the idea by Brandee who shrugged noncommittally. He believed that they could probably get everything done on time.
This meant that everyone had to work a little faster getting the prep work done. The sound check needed to be complete by 4:00 for the 7:30 show, which only gave them about 90 minutes to do everything that they normally did in three hours. Jake walked through the venue, looking for the sound / light people scheduled to meet the band.
The Opera House used the same person for both light and sound, a 20 year-old named Pete Sieger. The members of Brandee hoped that the name, albeit spelled differently than his more famous namesake, would be a good luck charm for them. Some of them were starting to believe that they would need it.
The rift between Jake and Brandee was showing in the group dynamic. Jake, without being technically in the group, had always kind of been the one that held the group together in the hours pre-show. He ran errands like a cheerful gopher. He knew who liked to be chatted up a bit during the afternoon and who liked to be left alone. He was so much more than the chauffeur that he had accused Brandee of making him. He either didn't know that, or it didn't matter to him this afternoon.
The group went about their business like the professionals they were. Brandee went through rehearsal without a hitch, her voice strong and clear. Bruce practiced the riffs and runs with which he hoped to delight the crowd later. Ever the perfectionist, he didn't stop until he was satisfied that it was as good as it could be from a rehearsal standpoint. Diane worked out the details of her drum solo for later that night. Every night now she felt a little more secure with the rapport that she shared with the other members of the group, as well as ever more ready to bring the house down with her solo. She was ready and so were the performing members of Brandee. Even so, and in spite of rehearsal being as smooth as silk, it wasn't the same.
At about 4:15, they completed the prep work. Brandee headed to The Rodeway Inn for her pre-show power nap. Normally, of course, Jake accompanied her to wherever they would be staying that night. He thought, and she agreed, that this might not be the best idea today. The last thing she needed was to be distracted by their ongoing argument, and the last thing he wanted was to hamper her performance in any way. He gave her a perfunctory kiss before she left and told her he would be waiting there when she returned.
Jake left The Opera House and walked aimlessly across the heart of downtown Grand Junction. Soon, he found himself at the beginning of the beautiful Blue Heron Trail, which wound along the banks of the Colorado River. It was late May, and the Pinon-Juniper and Mountain Mahogany that are native to western Colorado's sub-alpine region were in full spring color. Jake tried to enjoy the sight. Less than a quarter of a mile into the trail, though, Jake gave up on his walk and sat down on a bench. He closed his eyes and did something that he suddenly realized he hadn't done in quite some time. He started to pray. He hoped that he remembered how.
It started as a kind of silent meditation. Jake was in need of peace. His soul was in quiet distress over what had happened to Brandee and himself over the last two days. He blamed himself more and more as time went by (just as Brandee had predicted he would), but he couldn't shake the sense of disrespect for his feelings.
His meditation soon took the form of actual prayer. His lips moved without sound as he prayed the words that had come so naturally to him as a child. If he had said them audibly, they might have come off as childish, but the familiar words gave him some measure of comfort.
“Dear Lord,” he prayed, “It's me, Jake. I haven't talked to you as
much as I should have. I'm sorry. I'm just so sad. I love her; You know that. I try to treat her so well. I just don't know what to do. Please God.”
He prayed variations of these words 3 or 4 times on that bench in Blue Heron Park, seeking the peace that he had heard sometimes came to people who pray for comfort in a time of trial. He listened for the voice of God. He listened for angel wings, a trumpet, a flock of doves. He listened for something. He heard nothing.
He felt rather than heard someone sit down on the bench next to him. He looked up, prepared to move on to another bench when he realized that it was Bruce Jackson. He wiped his nose quickly with the back of his hand and said, “Hi Bruce. What are you doing here? I thought you took a nap before the show.”
“Sometimes I do; sometimes I don't,” Bruce said.
***
As far as Bruce knew, this was the first time that he had ever lied to Jake Evans. Indeed, he always took a nap before performing. He loved his pre-show nap almost as much as he loved his post-show meal. He had fully intended to enjoy his nap too, until Suzi had grabbed him by the arm.
“You follow him!” Suzi had hissed. “Don't let him walk away by himself! He needs somebody. He needs a man to talk to! You go!”
“Maybe he wants to be left alone, Suzi," Bruce answered, trying to peel her clenched fist from his shirt. “Sometimes a man needs to think by himself.”
“He's had plenty of time to think by himself. They haven't said a kind word to each other-- Hell; they haven't said hardly any words to each other-- since they got here! Follow him!”
She punctuated her last demand with a push toward the door, after taking the sting out of her words by kissing Bruce on the cheek.
***
Jake and Bruce sat in companionable silence for a bit. They watched the joggers go by on the riverside trail. Two minutes passed before Jake broke the silence.
“Brandee and I have fought before. She's got a temper, but so do I. It isn't always easy, but we always get back to okay. I say I'm sorry, then she says she's sorry too and we kiss and it's all over. Why does this one have to hurt so bad?”
Bruce pondered Jake's words for a bit before answering. When he did answer, his words were soft and measured.
“You two kids said some pretty mean things to each other last night. It's not always easy to forget those kinds of words spoken in anger. Are you sure that it isn't that?”
Jake looked at his friend. “It is that, but it's more than that. This thing about having a family has really gotten to me. Maybe it's that I'm 33 years old. I'm old enough now that people are starting to put 'relatively' in the middle of saying that I'm a young man. Do men have biological clocks? I thought that was just a woman thing. Is it just watching you and Suzi be so doggoned happy? If it is, I have to tell you that I'm really really sorry! I love you guys. Both Brandee and I do. I'm really and truly happy that you guys are going to be parents.”
Bruce took in what his friend was saying and pondered it carefully. He too knew that Jake and Brandee's relationship could be a little explosive at times. He also knew, or thought he did anyway, why Jake was struggling so much with this particular argument.
“I know you're happy for us. Don't waste a minute worrying about that. I do have to ask you a question though.”
“Shoot," Jake said. “Ask anything you want and I'll try to answer.”
When did you first start thinking about wanting to have a child some day?” Bruce asked.
“I don't think I ever thought about it, come to think of it," Jake answered, with a puzzled furrow between his eyebrows.
“Why not?” said Bruce.
“I don't know. It was never something that I ever talked to anybody about. My mom and dad never asked me about it, even when Brandee and I got married. Becks never asked me either.”
“Do you think that maybe they just assumed?” Bruce asked.
“Probably," Jake nodded.
“Do you think that they assumed because you assumed that it was something that would just happen?”
“Yeah, I suppose,” Jake answered, still not seeing the point to which Bruce was obviously driving.
“That might be it then," Bruce continued. “It's something that you always thought would happen as a normal part of life ever since you were a little boy. Now, at 33 years old, it looks like it might not happen. It feels like it's been taken from you.”
Jake nodded, looking down at the bench. Bruce put his hand on Jake's shoulder and waited until his friend looked back up, because he wanted to look into Jake's eyes when he said what he was going to say next. After about 10 seconds with his eyes averted, Jake looked back up.
“You're grieving, my friend," Bruce said quietly. “You're grieving the child that you always thought that you would have. You're grieving the games of catch and the ball games and camping trips that you thought you would have with your son. You're grieving the hugs and dances and the wedding day that you thought you would have with your daughter. You're grieving being parents with the woman you love.”
By the time Bruce finished this, the longest statement Jake had ever heard him say all at once, both men had tears in their eyes. Jake's tears were because he knew in his heart that what Bruce said was true. Bruce's tears had a two-fold source, and both sources were intermingled in the tears that threatened to overflow.
First, he felt bad for his friend. It's never easy to watch someone grieve, especially one you had grown to care about. He couldn't imagine what Jake must be feeling right now in the depths of his grief.
Second, his tears were tears of joy for himself and Suzi. Ever since he had found out that he was going to be a father, he had thought of all the scenarios that he had just lain out to Jake. Like Jake, he had never thought much about fatherhood either way. Now, at the ripe old age of 45, he was going to experience what his friend might not. Never much of a praying man himself, he nevertheless tossed one upstairs to the source of all life, thankful that he had been blessed with Suzi and their just-started child.
“Shall we walk some more,” he said to the younger man, “or shall we head back?”
“Let's stay out for a little longer," Jake said. “I need to think some more, but I don't want to be alone.”
Bruce smiled to himself. Suzi could be a nutbar sometimes, what with her bouncing around every time she got excited about something. She had a wise soul though. When Bruce had thought he should just leave Jake alone, she knew better. He reminded himself to tell her later that she had been correct in her analysis. He knew what she would say to that.
“I know. Now let's have popcorn and watch an old movie.”
***
If Brandee Evans was upset about the row with Jake, she never showed it during the time in the dressing room before the show. The people who had first heard her sing back in Las Vegas would barely recognize the polished young performer that she had become. She was able to draw into herself during the hours before a concert, focusing her attention on every note that would escape her mouth that night. Everything, and everyone, was excluded from this study in deepest concentration.
Only after having cleared her mind of everything outside of what was going to happen in the spotlight was she able to ad lib and freewheel on stage. The deep thought in the dressing room had cleansed her mind of extraneous material, helping her to think more quickly and react more readily to the mood of the crowd that awaited her. She had become a consummate professional before she was 24 years old.
Jake was present in the dressing room with the rest of the band. He went about his business as usual, albeit a little less talkative. Interestingly enough, he found himself less nervous for the group than he had been on the other nights of the tour. He wondered if this meant that he didn't care as much. He hoped not.
He had much to think about after his talk in the park with Bruce. The kind words of the keyboardist hadn't made it all go away. Nothing but coming to some kind of mutual understanding with his wife was going to do that, and Jake didn't know how to
go about facilitating such an event. The talk had given him a kind of road map though, he guessed. He hoped that he and Brandee could carve out some time to follow that road map to a greater understanding of one another's needs. His love for Brandee and belief in his marriage was not in question.
***
If Laramie had been the high point for the group so far, Grand Junction wasn't far behind. The raucous nature of the end of school crowd at UW had fed the energy of Brandee. They used that, as well as the considerable energy in The Opera House, to fuel another dynamite performance.
They opened the show with “12 Gauge” and didn't let the crowd rest before sailing straight into “Honky Tonk Broad”. Brandee went straight into the audience for “Honky Tonk”, not waiting for the crowd to heat up before showing up in their midst. She found that being among them kick-started the hysteria that she longed to hear from her fans.
FAME and GLORY Page 10