"I'm not sure that makes sense, but I'm totally on board with it."
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
I was so freakin' nervous. Despite what reassurance Albert and the guys had given me, and the support from O.K. ("I listened to you sing for twenty hours in the car. You will be fine."), I was on the verge of panic. I felt like I was going to throw up. My stomach turned over. This morning, my outfit had seemed killer. Now that I was staring at myself in the mirror, I was second (and third and fourth) guessing myself. Tight skinny jeans. Black boots worn over the jeans with a high stiletto heel. A shiny metallic black knit tank top that had wide straps and a v-neck. The material inverted to a "v" along my lower rib line and chiffon cascaded down to my hips. It made it look like I was baring my midriff but without actually doing it. Now I was worried that it would be very apparent to everyone that I was in my thirties, and that I had no business buying my clothes from a store called Forever 21.
I left my hair down and worked the curl. I kept fussing with my hair. However, all the fussing was actually making my hair bigger and bigger. I put a ponytail holder on my wrist just in case. I put on a bit more eye shadow than normal, trying to go for a smoky eye. Glossy lips, large beaded hoop earrings and a leather wrist cuff completed my look.
I took another swig from my tumbler. All of the singing in the car, plus rehearsal last night, had left my vocal cords a little worn out. Albert swore by whiskey and honey mixed together. I was not a big fan of whiskey, and my mom had used honey as a cure-all when we were sick. Now, every time I tasted honey, it reminded me of being sick. I looked at the amber liquid. Perhaps my drink was the reason I felt like I was going to hurl.
I dumped the rest of the miracle cure down the drain and made myself a cup of tea instead. O.K. was going to meet me at the bar. He was bringing a few of his friends from work to see me. I wondered if Rob would be in that group and how that would go over. In all honesty, there was part of me that did not want O.K. to be there tonight. What if I was a colossal failure? What if I tripped on the mike wire and fell down? What if I threw up all over the place? I know that O.K. claimed to like me, but what if he realized what a hot mess I truly was, and this was a deal breaker for him?
I tried to do some deep breathing. After all, Cheryl had been into yoga for a while. I sat down on my living room floor, next to the coffee table, and did the best lotus position that my painted-on jeans would allow. Even unbuttoning the top button did not afford me the flexibility that a yogi needed. I tried to remember the meditation part. No sooner had I closed my eyes than my cell rang. I reached for it up on my coffee table. The caller I.D. said "restricted." I answered it anyway, not knowing if it was work related. "Esther Comely-Cox."
There was silence on the line. I waited a moment and then looked at the front of the phone. The call had ended. Alrighty, I guess they didn't want to talk to me. Back to my ohm-ing. The moment my eyes were closed again, my cell started ringing. Again, the caller I.D. said, "restricted." Again, I answered by saying, "Hello, Esther Comley-Cox." And again, the call immediately disconnected.
My moment for meditation was gone so I got up (which is no easy feat in skinny jeans, mind you). I was panting a bit by the time I was fully vertical and struggled to get the button fastened again. Knowing me, I would forget if I didn't do it now and end up on stage with my pants undone. And then the damn phone rang again. "YES?" I impatiently answered the "restricted" caller. Just as before, the caller hung up. What the fuck was going on? This was so not what I needed with my nerves already on edge. I threw the phone onto the couch and flopped down, covering my eyes with my hands.
Then I remembered that my makeup and hair had actually looked pretty decent, and I hoped I could get to the gig before I ruined them. I would get myself a drink as soon as I got to the bar. That would hopefully calm my nerves a bit. Either that or send me over the edge. That would be a short trip.
The damn phone rang again. Without even looking, I answered it with a "WHAT?"
"Damn Red, cool down. You're going to blow a gasket before you even get on stage."
"Oh, Jeez, sorry Albert. I keep getting hang ups."
"No big. You ready? I'm pulling into your lot."
"'K. Be downstairs in a minute."
Albert was picking me up, and O.K. was going to bring me home. I guess no one expected me to be sober enough to drive. I was ready. I put on my black leather (okay, faux leather) jacket and I was off to kick some singing ass. Yup. Totally gonna kick some ass by falling down my apartment stairs. Perfect. Just perfect.
"Dude, did you wipe out down your own stairs?" Albert said as soon as I opened the door to his white van. It kind of reminded me of the type of vans that creepy people who abducted kids drove. I tried to shrug off both my lack of grace and the fact that I was a teeny-tiny bit afraid of Albert at the moment.
"Maybe."
"Uh, does that happen to you a lot?"
"Maybe."
Albert looked at me. He looked worried. I could tell what he was thinking. I said it out loud before he could. "Yes, I'm a wee bit on the clumsy side. Yes, I'm afraid I'm going to trip over some wires and face plant off the front of the stage. Yes, I've thought about it, and no, there is nothing I can do to make up for the fact that I fall. A lot."
"Well, as long as we've got that covered." He paused. "I'll have Jules do the best she can to keep the wires out of your way."
Jules was Albert's wife. She also acted as the sound person for the band, running the sound board. I thought it was über cool that a woman did that job, when it was so often done by men. She did not find it cool and was not tolerant of being referred to as the sound guy. She wanted to be known as the sound engineer. I thought that sounded pretentious. Jules was not that pleased that The Rusty Buckets had taken on a female lead singer. I wondered if it was because she didn't want me moving in on her man (she needn't have worried about that one), or because she had wanted to be the lead singer for the band.
It was true, Albert and I had unbelievable chemistry when we sang. There was frankly a connection between us, and it was electric. It was like we'd known each other all our lives, but also had that electricity of a first kiss. But off the stage, I had no interest in him and I'm sure the feeling was mutual. Albert played lead guitar in addition to vocals. He would be stepping back from lead vocals now, letting me take over, although there were quite a few duets on the set list. Albert's brother, Drew, played the drums. Pauly played bass and Jugs completed the band with guitar and trumpet. I was guessing Jugs was not his real name, but had something more to do with his love of the female anatomy. At least that's what I hoped.
The Rusty Buckets had been looking to move in another direction when I joined. They had previously done a lot of classic rock, but Pauly and Albert wanted to move in a more current direction. You know, one in the current century. Drew had no opinion. Frankly, I wasn't sure if he actually spoke. He played a mean drum though. Jugs was the most reluctant to update the sound of the band and change the dynamics. I needed to be careful not to step on his toes. I think the fact that I had decent-sized breasts would help me sway him to agree with the change in direction.
The guys carried in the equipment while I tried to not be in the way. I helped Drew get the drums set up while Albert, Pauly and Jugs carried in the heavy stuff. The manager of the bar brought me a beer. While I wanted to chug it down, I tried to sip slowly, just enough to wet my whistle. I attempted some small talk with Jules while she set up the sound board, but she really wanted no part of it. Whatever. I went over the song list and the lyrics again. I had too much time and was starting to freak out a little bit. I needed to stop over thinking and get out of my head. The guys were used to getting things running before I joined, and they carried on as if I weren't there. I tried to figure out what they were doing and pitch in where I could. Sooner than I could believe, things were plugged in and instruments were being tuned.
I busied myself putting on the in-ear monitor and checking the sound. Of course,
as soon as I did that, my nerves took over, and I really had to pee. I unclipped the pack from my waistband and made a quick trip to the ladies' room. As soon as that need was taken care of, I attached the earpiece to the back of my jeans and fitted it in my ear. Actually, Albert attached it to my jeans, which drew another slew of evil looks from Jules. I wish I could pull her aside and tell her she had nothing to worry about. I wasn't the type to swoop in and steal someone else's guy. Sure, Albert and I had good singing chemistry, but that was about it. Once plugged back in, I did a quick sound check with the guys.
The bar was starting to fill in. I thought that was a good sign. To me, it would be better to play to a full house than an empty bar. The bar certainly had its fair share of regulars. There was a guy sitting at the end of the bar who looked like Elvis. No shit, he had the black shoe polish pompadour, thick gold chains and the large sunglasses. He was dressed in regular street clothes, although his shirt was open a few buttons too many. I wondered if he was actually an Elvis impersonator or just a huge fan. We had an Elvis song in the playlist. I made a mental note to give that guy a shout-out if he was still sitting there when we started that song.
I started pacing, which is my usual behavior when I'm nervous. I felt like I had to pee again. I couldn't believe I was really going to do this. I needed to calm down, so I sat down at the bar, directly across from Elvis. The thoughts continued. I was the lead singer in a band. Never in a million years had I thought that this was something I would do. This was Aster's thing. As soon as her name passed through my mind, I got a pang in my chest. I missed her so much. Even though I had never pictured myself doing such I thing, I wanted nothing more than to be able to share it with her. I could picture myself saying, "Aster, can you believe it? They wanted me to sing with them. And I'm doing it! And it's so much fun! I love being up there. I now know why you loved doing it. I get it!"
I felt this wave of emotions start to crash over me. The emptiness that Aster's death had created in my world. My anger at her and the rest of my family. The loneliness and sadness started to envelope me like a weighted blanket.
"Red ... Red ... Earth to Red?"
I snapped to attention. "Oh sorry."
Albert looked at me. "You okay? You look a little spooked."
I pursed my lips together. "Yeah, sorry. Just thinking about my sister. She fronted a band before she died. I was wishing she was here to see this. Got me down for a moment."
"Well, snap out of it. We're about to start. I'm sure, in some sense of the cosmic flow, she's here."
"You think?"
"Yeah, man. I think those we love never really leave us. So channel that emotion into your singing, and you're going to rock it, Red."
I stood up from the barstool and started to head to the stage area.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
I was absolutely killing it. The bar was pretty full. I was hoping it was because we were there, not just because of the excessively cheap (in more way than one) drinks. I was on fire. There had been a little feedback in my earpiece early on, so I took it out. We were about nine songs into the first set of twelve. The crowd was totally into it, and Albert and I were in synch. I was sure it was beginner's luck, but whatever mojo I had going, I hoped it was always like this. Even Elvis seemed to like the more current stuff we were debuting.
O.K. had shown up with a crew. He looked adorable in jeans and a fitted plaid button-down. He had on a blazer over it, and all I could think was he must be dying of heat. I know I was sweating something fierce up on stage. Between the lights, the adrenaline, and all the dancing around, I was profusely perspiring. I smiled at O.K. At a moment in a song when I was feeling saucy and could pull it off, I even winked at him. The grin that spread across his face was priceless. I was so getting some tonight. Even Jillian was there with a little posse. I had a following.
Albert and I moved into a current duet. It was an indie-folk alternative hit and was a bit outside the comfort zone for The Rusty Buckets. I loved it. We followed it by another current hit on which Albert took background vocals and Jugs was on the horn. It was a great, high-energy number and I gave it my all. We were ending the set after this number. I wasn't sure if I really wanted to break. I was afraid I would lose my momentum if we stopped. On the other hand, with all the jumping and sweating, my hair had grown in exponential proportions and needed to be tamed so Drew and the drums could be seen behind me.
As soon as we announced our brief break, O.K. pushed and shoved his way up to me. He handed me a beer.
"Esther, you were unbelievable!"
I took a long swig, hoping the ice-cold brew would lower my body temperature by a degree or ten. "Thanks." I took another drink. "And thanks for this. I'm so freakin' hot up there."
"I'll say," O.K. said, giving me a naughty glance.
"Are you being naughty?"
"Can I convince you to be?"
I smiled back. "Oh, you're going to have to wait for that."
He stuck out his lip in a mock-pout.
"Don't pout. That's my job. Trust me, the wait will be worth it."
He moved closer, with only an inch of space between his body and mine. "I don't do good with waiting."
"If we had more than ten minutes, I'd suggest we go in the bathroom or out to your car right now."
O.K. leaned in. He brushed my hair back away from my ear. Just his touch made me tingle all over. He whispered, his breath hot on my neck, "I'm pretty sure I don't even need ten minutes."
I licked my lips. "I'm pretty sure it wouldn't take that long either. On the other hand, shouldn't we want it to last longer?"
He kissed my neck. "Consider this round one."
"O.K., I can't. As much as I want to—and believe me I do—I can't right now."
He kissed me again. "How about now?"
Oh my God how I wanted to. With all the adrenaline pumping from being up on stage, there was part of me that wanted to throw O.K. against the juke box and take him right there. Especially with him kissing my neck like that. And his hands on my ass didn't hurt either.
"Hey, Red? You coming back to us?"
Albert distracted me from O.K. Jules was glaring at me again. What had I done now? I thought this should make her more comfortable, and show her that I had no interest in Albert. She probably thought I was a slut. Whatever. I was on fire tonight, and couldn't wait to start the second set.
I gave O.K. a quick kiss on the lips. "We'll definitely finish this later. I gotta go sing."
"You're doing awesome. See you out there!"
By the second set, the audience was even more packed. I was a little pitchy during the second song, but managed to pull it back together to nail our Elvis cover. I was worried that the King would not be pleased. I searched the crowd for him. Elvis was still at the bar and I could see him singing along with me. At one point, I even pointed to him. He stood up and took a bow. Albert smiled at me.
God, this was fun. I could do this forever.
But, before I knew it, all three sets were done. I had long since pulled my hair back and was helping the guys pack up. It was early, only midnight. I was so keyed up that I wondered if I'd ever be able to sleep again. I knew I didn't want to go home. The bar was still packed. Eventually, O.K. managed to work his way up to me. He grabbed me low around the waist and pulled my pelvis into his.
"Damn, you are so fucking hot!"
"I know, right?"
"You are also incredibly humble as well."
I laughed. "I usually am. I feel so incredible. Is this what it's like to be high? I've never done any drugs, but I feel like I'm totally high right now."
"You're probably on an endorphin rush."
"It's fucking awesome."
"I don't think I've ever heard you say 'fuck' before."
I gave him a kiss. "I don't just want to be saying it right now."
O.K. held up his hand. "Check please?"
At that moment, Rob came up. "Hey guys, you going somewhere?"
I shrugged
. "Eventually, maybe."
O.K. released me and stood by my side. "Maybe?"
I elbowed him. "Definitely. Soon."
"That's better."
I turned my attention to Rob, worried that I was being rude. "Hey, Rob. Thanks for coming. I guess I owe this all to you."
"Oh, yeah, that's right. I guess you do." He sounded like he could barely remember the fact that we went on a date. I think my assessment that he was only after sex was probably correct. Somehow, it didn't bother me. He was attractive, no doubt, but I was honestly truly very happy with O.K.
"Are you here with people from the hospital?"
"Yeah, O.K. made us come out and see you."
"Gee, thanks for the support, I guess."
"No, it was a good show. You are really a good singer and you have an unexpected stage presence."
"Thank you, I think?" I asked with a question in my voice.
"No, I don't mean it like that—"
"Real suave Rob. Good thing you're attractive, otherwise you'd never get the ladies." O.K. chided him. Rob might be slightly more attractive than O.K., but O.K. had the personality in spades over Rob. "Speaking of which, where is your date?"
"Oh," he shrugged, "she went to the bathroom."
"Who's the lucky lady?" I surprised myself by asking this. Wow, singing had really empowered me. Normally, I would have sat and stewed that he was here with a date after he never called me. It didn't matter that I didn't want him to call. It didn't matter that I was with O.K. Normally, I would have felt rejected. But tonight, nothing could touch me. I felt almost generous, wishing my happiness and elation on all those around me.
"She's actually a patient's mother. Err, former patient, I guess. I've been treating the kid for a while, and we hit it off. Finally, she came in and told me she was leaving the practice so that she could take me out to dinner. That night. Who am I to say no to that?"
"You always did like them forceful and bossy," O.K. chided.
I'm Still Here Page 14