“You wouldn’t believe it if I told you!”
“I believe everything you say. Give me a try.”
She glanced over to the clock to check the time; the display read: 3:45. She sighed and started another round of searching.
“Well, I got a call from Robert Montgomery today.”
“NO WAY! What’d he want? Tell me everything.”
“He asked me to dinner tonight.”
“What did you say?”
“I guess I’m going to dinner with him.”
“NO WAY! He’s coming to Yerington? You don’t sound very excited.”
“No, I’m going to Tahoe. He’s appearing the end of the week at Tucker’s for a charity appearance and playing in the celebrity golf tourney at Edgewood. Em, I’m a nervous wreck. This man and I have nothing in common. The only thing I really know about him is what I‘ve heard and read in the news. Why me?”
“Jillie, you’re the most unafraid person I know. Girl, you’re a professional woman. You deal with life and death problems daily. You can handle an old country star.” Both girls laughed.
“Let me French braid your hair”
Jillian told Emma about the phone call. “He’s sending a car for me!” They decided on the gray tweed dress, the one she’d purchased in Seattle, and a pair of black heels. As Jillian dressed Emma said, “I can’t believe it… Robert John Montgomery.”
The old grandfather clock struck six times, as the girls were coming downstairs. Both Jillian and Emma held their breath. Jillian grabbed Emma’s hand and said, “Come with me. I’ll put the car on hold. You run across and change.”
“Jillian, I can’t. You know that.”
Jillian was loading her black evening purse, when the doorbell rang. Jillian answered the door and found Joanna standing in the doorway holding a plate of cookies.
“Wow, don’t you look nice! I was baking for the girls at the club and had some extras.”
Behind Joanna on the front porch, a gentleman in a dark suit came up the walk. “Dr. Jillian James?”
“Yes.”
“My name’s Lionel, and I’ll be your driver for tonight. I’ll be at the car whenever you’re ready,” he motioned towards the street.
“Oh, dear,” Joanna said, seeing the black stretch limousine sitting in front of her house. Emma stepped onto the front porch with Jillian’s purse and coat, handed them to her and said, “I’ll put these cookies in the cookie jar and lock up for you.” She hugged Jillian and she whispered in her ear. “You’re going to have a great time. I love you. If you need me, call.”
“You, too.”
As Lionel opened the door for Jillian, Lynda came around the corner to see her friend getting into a limo. She honked her horn and waved with a questioning look on her face. She saw Emma and Joanna standing on Jillian’s front porch. Emma was still holding the plate. Lynda parked her car at her house and ran over.
“What’s going on?”
“Joanna and I are going down to Dini’s for dinner. If you go to dinner with us, I’ll give you all the details,” Emma said to Lynda.
“Let’s go. I can’t wait.”
Jillian made herself comfortable on the butter-soft leather seat. Lionel leaned in and said, “The controls above your head are for climate, light, radio, and TV. The cabinets to your right are fully stocked, and please help yourself. The button on this console is the speaker button to speak to me. This button raises and lowers the partition between us. Do you wish to keep it down?” Jillian nodded.
“Please make yourself comfortable. We’ll be over to the Lake in about an hour and a half.”
“Thank you.”
As the door closed, she looked at her friends standing and waving toward the limo. For a second she had misgivings and wished she was staying home. But curiosity took over.
As the car drove down Main Street, people stopped to watch; it’s not often that a stretch limousine is seen in Yerington. Jillian adjusted the air and looked around the inside of the limousine. To her count it’d probably seat about seven people. The shiny wood cabinets were topped with cut-glass glasses and the drink-holders were of polished marble. She reached into the cabinet to find a fully stocked bar. She took a Perrier water, opened it, and took a sip. She placed the bottle into one of the cup holders and settled back.
As the car started out of town heading south, Lionel said, “There should be a brilliant sunset tonight. Please enjoy your ride.”
“Thank you.”
The Nevada sky was turning dusky, the sun sitting behind the Sierra Nevada Mountain range. The car snaked its way through Wilson Canyon and into Smith Valley, a farming community in Northern Nevada. Jillian sank into the seat while watching the scenery pass. She’d driven this route for years, but somehow tonight it seemed like she was seeing it for the first time.
During the drive to Lake Tahoe they passed through the small communities of Smith, Wellington, and Topaz Ranch Estates; from there the car turned onto Highway 395 heading north to the turnoff for Lake Tahoe. They passed through Gardnerville-Minden, turned onto Muller Lane, then onto Kingsbury Grade highway. The grade was steep and curved to Lake Tahoe from Highway 395, the most direct route to the lake. As quickly as she’d placed her head back, Lionel said, “We’re coming into Lake Tahoe.” Jillian wakened with a start and, embarrassed that she’d fallen asleep.
She looked out the side window and noticed that they were at the corner of Kingsbury Grade and Highway 50. Since it was dark outside, Lake Tahoe was just a glimmer of light reflections. The limo turned left and passed by the outer edge of Edgewood Golf Course. Jillian and the girls had once been invited to play on this course a few years back. The lights of the Stateline casinos were bright and shining.
The limo turned left into to Tucker’s Casino parking lot and garage. Tucker’s Hotel Casino has been a popular destination for years. Walter Tucker built the casino in the early 1940’s and in the 1960’s built a motor lodge, that’s transformed through the years to a five-star hotel. The high-rise hotel overlooks the lake, as do all the other hotels. Their suites are always in demand.
They traveled under the walkway to the parking garage and the entrance marked, “Valet Parking.” The car stopped and Jillian waited for Lionel to come around to open her door. She noticed that several people in the valet line were staring to see if “somebody” would be getting out. When Lionel opened her door, the crisp mountain air with a fragrance of pine drifted in. Jillian took a deep breath, smiled and thought, I love that smell.
Lionel introduced her to Bertie, a rather striking woman with bright-red lipstick, probably the same shade she wore during World War II. Bertie Walker was one of Tucker’s Entertainment Department representatives, as her nametag read.
“Good evening, Miss James. Hope you had an enjoyable ride.”
“Yes, thank you.”
They entered the hotel lobby. In a massive rock fireplace, the red-hot logs popped and cracked, and the smell of burning pine was pungent. People were milling about. To the right of Hotel Registration was a bank of hotel elevators. When Bertie inserted a key card into the slot above the “up” and “down” buttons, an elevator door opened. A handful of people tried to enter behind them. From out of nowhere a security guard appeared, telling the group this was a private elevator and there’d be another elevator quickly. The disappointed patrons were scoffing about only two people being in the elevator. Jillian was almost embarrassed to turn and face them.
Bertie touched 25, one of the private floors. They quickly arrived at the 25th floor. Bertie walked Jillian to the double doors of Suite 2556. She rang the doorbell, turned and said, “It was nice meeting you. Have a good evening. If there’s anything I can do for you, please call me.” She pressed her business card into Jillian’s hand, and Jillian slipped it into her coat pocket.
“It was nice meeting you.”
Jillian only waited for a second, and the doors opened. Robert John Montgomery stood before her. He looked so much different than b
ackstage in Seattle. He was dressed in a navy-blue sports coat, a pink shirt, navy tie, and camel slacks. And penny loafers replaced the soft cowboy boots.
Only one thought crossed Jillian’s mind: This man looks beautiful!
Chapter 10
Homewood, Iowa was a rural farming town with a population of just over 700. Most of the farm children help out on the farm or at the dairy, while growing up. As in many small rural areas, when children graduated from high school, they wanted to leave and to go to the “big city,” either to continue their education, get jobs, or join the military.
Robert John Montgomery was born into a multi-generation farming family. His great-great grandfather, Harrison Montgomery, arrived in Homewood on a bareback horse with only a few Confederate coins in his pocket and a will to work. He went to work wrangling horses for the Army. His wage was small, but he worked hard and saved his money.
Robert John Montgomery’s father, Michael, was born and raised on the same Homewood, Iowa ranch on which they now live and hadn’t traveled far from Iowa, until he met Natalie. Born into a Swedish family, her family traveled quite often. Her children say that they got their dad’s sense of roots and their mother’s gypsy feet.
Mike and Nat met when Mike was stationed in Missouri while in the Army. Theirs was a whirlwind romance; they met and married in a three-week courtship, while World War II stormed. While Mike was away, Natalie moved in with Mike’s parents on the ranch. When Mike came home, they built their home down the road from his parents.
They’ve been married for almost 45 years. They laugh and say sometimes those years feel like forever, other times like their marriage was just yesterday. Natalie and Mike had five children, four sons: Joshua, Robert, Samuel, Kevin and a daughter, Lucille; almost all left home, but Joshua and Lucille stayed. It seemed that like having lived their youth on a farm soured their adult life for farming. They all came home to help when the need was there, but Josh and Lucille’s husband, Nick, wanted farming as their career. Robert John Montgomery left home as soon as he graduated from high school, knowing he wanted to be in the music business.
While in high school he sang at dances and at the Senior Prom. His fellow-students voted him the “most show-off.” His music teacher showed him an ad, which he answered and got an interview at a Charlotte, North Carolina music-recording studio, Twilight Studios. He got a job as an assistant to the producer of new talent in the country division of the studios. RJ liked searching for new talent, but was always reminded of his own: I can do just as well as these folks. On the side, he sold a couple of his songs to Gaylord Long and to Pierce Layton, both gold record singers. His song, “Whispers,” earned Pierce another gold. When Pierce asked him to join him in a duet singing his song on the Country Music Award show in Nashville, RJ was overwhelmed.
Richard Fielder, president of Mammoth Records, was in the audience of that award show. He contacted RJ the following Monday. Robert John Montgomery flew to Nashville the next Friday to meet him, and the rest is history. That was seven years ago, one wife and seven gold records ago. He’s now doing exactly what he always wanted to do: Write songs, sing, and perform. His family hasn’t seen many of his concerts. Robert John Montgomery asks them to come, but they always make the excuse that they have too much farm work to do. Sometimes RJ feels his parents don’t realize how famous their son has become.
Chapter 11
“Jillian, how nice to see you again!” Robert John Montgomery gave her a brief hug and motioned for her to enter the room.
“Hello, Mr. Montgomery,” Jillian said as she looked across the room at the spectacular view overlooking Lake Tahoe.
“Yeah, kind’a grabs you, doesn’t it. Welcome to Walter Tucker’s Star Suite. It’s RJ; that’s what all my friends call me.”
Jillian nodded. The suite faced the lake, the living room situated across the front corners of the building with windows surrounding all sides of the room. The view was amazing even at night. She could only imagine what the view would be like during the day.
Jillian’s always considered herself strong and focused, but at this moment, she felt so star-struck that all she could do was just nod. As they sat in the living room, RJ said, “Our reservation at the Seafood Cove is in about 20 minutes. Would you like something to drink?”
“Yes, thank you. Perrier?”
“Hope you don’t mind. I’m having a whiskey?”
“Oh, I don’t mind. Please, go right ahead.”
They sat on the sofa, sipping their drinks. “We have reservations for the late show, if that’s okay? I don’t know if you noticed the marquee when you arrived, announcing that Martin Howard’s appearing.”
“I’d heard he’s here. I’d love to see him. I’ve seen him on Letterman and Leno and when he hosted Saturday Night Live. His expressions really are funny.”
“I thought we might like a laugh tonight.”
They arrived a few minutes early at the Cove, only being stopped twice by fans asking for autographs. RJ was very polite to the ladies who told him they were his biggest fans. Jillian thought: He’s really gracious to these ladies.
When they opened the doors of the Cove, the aroma of garlic and seafood was delightful. The matre’d showed them to a corner table, handed Jillian and RJ menus and the wine list to RJ. He asked if she would like a to drink with dinner.
“A margarita would be nice.”
When the waitress arrived, with the margaritas, she composed herself long enough to recite the daily specials.
Jillian ordered the soft-shell crab as an appetizer and halibut as her entrée. RJ ordered oysters on the half-shell and for his entrée, swordfish.
When their drinks arrived, RJ toasted: “To many more evenings like this.” Jillian blushed, as they touched glasses.
Jillian looked around the restaurant and noticed that they were being watched by almost everyone. The two ladies who’d stopped them earlier were standing waiting for a table. They had their heads together and whispered while looking their way.
“Doesn’t it bother you… all the attention?” Jillian asked.
“Nah, sometimes it’s inconvenient, but most of the time I just figure these people pay my salary through buying my music and coming to my concerts, so I owe it to them. I guess you could say that basically I’m a show-off. I enjoy it.”
“Do you ever get tired of all the concerts?”
“I have one simple philosophy: The day I dread going on stage is the day I quit.”
Robert finished his margarita, hailed the waitress and ordered a “Jack on the Rocks.” He asked Jillian, “Another drink?” She shook her head no.
When dinner was finished, both Jillian and RJ declined dessert. “You should eat up, as since I’m the headliner, it’s all complimentary. The matre’d had RJ initial the bill and asked, “Would you mind signing a couple of autographs?”
“Why don’t I have Gary Johns, my road manager, call you first thing tomorrow and we’ll be happy to sign as many as you need.”
After leaving a sizable tip, RJ looked at his watch, “We have an hour or so before we need to be in the showroom. Shall we go back up to the suite or what would you like to do?”
“That’s fine. Let’s go back.”
Alone in the elevator, his fingertips touched hers. She wondered if his touch was deliberate or not. Standing so close to him, she could smell his cologne, the same scent she remembered. She felt weak in the knees. Jillian was afraid of what might be expected of her.
RJ unlocked the door. The suite was lit only with starlight. Jillian walked to the panoramic windows. Moonlight sparkled on the lake like she’d never seen before.
RJ said, “I really love this lake. As many times as I’ve seen this view, it always amazes me and takes my breath away. Guess I should write a song for this feeling; it seems more special now.”
Jillian stepped back, feeling uncomfortable not knowing what to say or do. Tonight’s been a whirlwind, a fairytale, she thought: Yes, I did say I wasn’t star-st
ruck, but….
RJ, picking up on her uneasiness, said, “Do you want a drink?”
“No thanks, but go ahead.”
He poured himself a bourbon on ice. Jillian excused herself and found the bathroom. When she came out, RJ said, “I phoned down. They’ll come and get us, when we need to go.”
As she entered the room, she yawned which surprised her, as it was only 11 p.m. and she was use to staying up late, especially when on call.
RJ chuckled. “Once we start laughing, you’ll wake up. Martin Howard’s really funny. We’ve probably 40 minutes or so.” RJ motioned towards the sofa, Jillian sat and he joined her -- close, but not too close.
He finished his drink, placed the glass on the coffee table, and said, “You know, this is a two-bedroom suite and if I remember right, you said your schedule is clear for a couple of days. You’re most welcome to stay, it’s going to be a late night. The show’ll be finished about one or so, and Lionel could drive you home tomorrow.”
Jillian yawned again, even though she tried to stifle it. Embarrassed about yawning, she said, “No thank you. I really need to get home.”
“Okay, but please think about it.”
While waiting until time to go, the subjects of conversation ranged from Iowa, Texas, horses, life as a entertainer, running RJ’s corporation, Country Heart Entertainment, medicine, and friends.
When the doorbell rang, RJ answered it. A tuxedoed gentleman stood in the doorway, “Mr. Montgomery, are you ready?” RJ looked at Jillian. She picked up purse and joined him at the door.
“Lead the way, my good man,” RJ said.
They rode the elevator down to the level below the main casino floor, walked down a quiet corridor to a door, that was almost invisible to the naked eye. The man escorting them reached his fingers under a railing, pressed a button. A buzzer sounded, as he opened the door. RJ explained to her that they were entering behind the showroom. The hallway walls were covered with pictures of entertainers that had appeared at Tucker’s in the past. Some of the photos were autographed. When they passed one of the photos, RJ smiled and pointed. Jillian looked at a picture of RJ taken a few years ago, amazed at how young he looked. She smiled, again reminded of where she was and who she was with. They were shown to a private booth in the darkened showroom. A waiter took their drink order, Jillian ordered a rum cooler and RJ ordered a double shot of Jack.
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