“It’s about time someone shook the dust off that pile.”
Shawn jumped at the sound of Jaymi’s voice and nearly dropped the papers. She quickly set them down and spun around to face her, hoping to God she wasn’t red with embarrassment.
“Oh shit, I’m sorry, Jaymi. I wasn’t snooping.” Again, she tried desperately to avoid Jaymi’s eyes, but it was hard not to look at her. Dressed in blue jeans and a forest-green ribbed Henley, she had walked silently into the room in her stocking feet. The men’s clothing gave her slender physique a slightly masculine figure, though it couldn’t hide her fine feminine curves. Her ash blond hair was towel-dried and still damp, and her eyes captured the sunlight, making them sparkle. Jaymi stepped up beside her and picked up the top sheet.
“I’ve been stuck on this one for months. Terrible writer’s block this winter,” Jaymi said, studying the page. Shawn noticed her clean scent and tried to inhale it without being obvious.
“I should get showered and dressed, too,” Shawn said, thinking a cold shower was definitely in order.
*
Shawn let the hot water ease the tension from her shoulders. Her thoughts raced with the explanation she owed Jaymi. She wanted to explain why she was here. But how much should she tell her? How much could she tell her, without risking rejection? Jaymi seemed like an unconditional friend, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have her standards.
She would tell her only what she had to—for today, anyway. She’d let time dictate whether she would need to tell her any more. She’d get to know Jaymi better before she told her the dark truth about herself. Jaymi was way out of her league, so it wasn’t like she was misleading a potential lover.
She fumbled through her knapsack for something decent to wear. After several years of living in Southern California, her selection of cold-weather clothing was limited. She settled for a heavyweight navy New England Patriots sweatshirt that was still in decent condition and a pair of carpenter’s jeans. She wiped the steam from the mirror and checked herself. Damn, I need a haircut. First thing I’ll do when I get a job—after I give Jaymi some rent money.
She gave herself a pep talk to gather up her courage and made her way into the living room. Jaymi was sitting on the edge of the sofa, quietly strumming her guitar. And despite her desire to simply stand in the shadows, unnoticed, and watch Jaymi play, Shawn caught her breath and focused on what she needed to say.
Jaymi sensed her presence and the music stopped.
“Don’t stop on my account,” Shawn said, but it was too late. Jaymi set down the guitar, resting its neck on the arm of the sofa.
“I’m just noodling,” Jaymi said. “I like your sweatshirt. I see you haven’t lost your loyalty to our hometown team.” She smiled that sweet smile and Shawn took a seat in the recliner.
“Never. New England’s in my blood. It’s home. I’m even more fanatic about the Red Sox.”
Jaymi laughed. “Yeah, I remember. It sucked not being able to watch them play when I was in California. Unless they had a series in Anaheim or were on a nationally televised game against the Yankees or something.”
“It was so sweet when they won it all last year.”
Shawn could have easily talked baseball for hours, but she needed to get the talk over with. She took a deep breath and sat at the other end of the couch, braced her forearms on her thighs, and slowly began wringing her hands. Here goes. “I guess you’re wondering why I showed up looking for you last night.”
Jaymi nodded. “I am curious, I admit.”
“My plan was to stay with my aunt Betty down in Lowell. Other than my father, she’s the only family I have left here. Anyway, when I got to her house…” She swallowed hard, unsure if she could continue without bursting into tears. She glanced over at Jaymi, whose gaze was sympathetic.
“What is it?”
“Her neighbor told me she died a month ago.” She straightened up and hardened as Jaymi gave her condolences. “So I went to my father’s house, but…” She shuddered with the memory of the encounter. “I thought by now he would have forgiven me. I just was hoping he might…well, anyway, that’s another story. The bastard still hates my guts. I didn’t know where else to go. Then I heard your song on the radio, and the DJ said you were playing at Sparky’s, so—”
“Shawn”—Jaymi leaned forward, her expression serious—“what happened in California? I thought you were doing pretty well, getting gigs.”
Shawn covered her face with her hands and slowly shook her head. She prayed again for courage. She slowly brought her head up. “I screwed up, Jaymi. Bad. My gigs started dropping off ’cause the clubs were constantly trying to bring in new talent, to keep it fresh. I couldn’t afford an agent, so every night I was just driving to any place I could audition, or if they had open mikes. I’d drive a hundred miles if I had to. And that was getting me nowhere, and I couldn’t afford the gas. Wannabes like me are a dime a dozen in LA, and most of the places either dealt only through agents, or they said I could leave a demo and they’d get back to me. Well, the only recordings I have of my stuff are pretty low quality, so I was out of luck. Then to make matters worse, I lost my day job.”
“Oh no. That sucks.”
“Tell me about it. I’d been waiting tables at this dive, and the guy that ran the place, I swear he had it out for me. Anyway, I had this tendency to show up a little late sometimes. Not all the time, just once in a while, and it was only by five minutes or so, never more than that. Usually because he was a bastard and kept putting me on the breakfast shifts, even though I kept telling him I was a musician and worked late playing clubs. I told him I’d do better with the lunch shifts, but he did it just to spite me, I think.”
Shawn watched Jaymi’s face for signs of disgust, but all she saw was compassion. She struggled on, her stomach in knots and her palms damp with sweat. She rubbed them on her jeans.
“Anyway, I guess he finally got fed up and one day he fired me. I had a hell of a time finding another job. I think he was giving me bad references. Money ran out and I lost my apartment. I haven’t had a steady job in more than two years. I guess I’m just not good at much. Every job I got, somehow I’d screw up.”
Jaymi sat silently, waiting for her to continue. She knew she had to get it all out now.
“I can’t catch a break. I’ve either been staying in motels when I did have a few bucks, or sleeping in my car, or…” She faltered. She couldn’t say the rest out loud. Not yet, and maybe not ever.
“My God, Shawn, that’s awful. You didn’t have any friends you could stay with?”
Shawn chewed on a knuckle before answering with only a shrug and averted eyes. Hearing it from Jaymi made it sound even worse, like she really was totally alone.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.”
Shawn swallowed hard. “It’s not that I don’t want to. I’m just not sure I’m ready to—”
“It’s not like it’s any of my business. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pried.”
“No, Jaymi, I’m sorry. It’s not that I don’t trust you, I’m just…let’s just say I was desperate and broke and I did some things I’m not too proud of.”
“Listen”—Jaymi leaned forward and looked into Shawn’s eyes, her voice soft and calm—“we all make mistakes, and we’ve all done things we’re not proud of. I know I have. So stop being so hard on yourself and try to look at this as a new start, okay?”
Shawn managed a weak smile and nodded. Jaymi stood up and for a fleeting, hopeful moment, Shawn thought Jaymi was going to hug her. Instead she walked by her and retrieved a guitar case from the studio.
“The band’s rehearsing today, so I need to get ready to go,” Jaymi said, placing the guitar gingerly in its case. “You want to come along? Or you can hang out here if you want. You can watch TV, play your guitar, whatever you like to do to relax. I know you’ve had a long trip, so maybe you don’t feel like going anywhere. I have time to help you unpack your car if you want. Make
yourself at home in that spare bedroom. I know there isn’t much in there, but maybe we can go to the Goodwill store or something and pick up a dresser for your clothes. I hate to see you living out of a suitcase.”
“Wow. I appreciate it, but really, I feel like I’m intruding here. I’m not moving in or anything, I wouldn’t expect you to put me up for any extended period of time—”
“Hey,” Jaymi said, “I’ve been meaning to set up that guest room for months, and now I have an excuse to stop procrastinating.” She picked up her guitar and set it by the kitchen door. “Besides, I like having a guest. And by the way? I’ve missed you.”
“Thanks, Jaymi. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. I won’t let you down. And, yeah, I’d love to come to rehearsal, of course.” She felt safe in Jaymi’s presence, something she hadn’t felt in a long time, and she was desperate to keep the feeling. She’d been alone long enough. Now she just wanted to be near people who didn’t want anything from her.
Jaymi nodded and opened the door. “Then let’s get to it. We’ve got music to make.”
Chapter Five
Rehearsal turned out to be at Jaymi’s aunt and uncle’s house. They were kind enough to let them use their finished basement, since their son, Brian, was the band’s drummer. He greeted Shawn with a big hug and didn’t pry into the circumstances surrounding her return. They’d spent many nights talking sports together and had gotten pretty close in LA, and he said he was glad to have his baseball buddy back.
It was a no-brainer for Shawn to come to rehearsal. Being in the presence of other musicians was always where she felt most at home. Jaymi had insisted that she bring her guitar, in case she felt like jamming with them. She was hesitant, feeling much too inadequate to play with such an accomplished band, but inside she couldn’t have been more excited and hoped she would get the chance to join in for at least one song.
Jaymi was almost finished setting up when the band’s bassist, Kay Burnes, arrived with Nikki Razer, the lead singer. Shawn was surprised to get a hug from Kay. She hadn’t gotten to know her very well in LA, but now Kay treated her like an old friend.
“Well, what have we here?” said Nikki, peeling off her leather biker jacket as she sized up Shawn. “Long time no see, cute stuff.” Her skin-tight black sweater revealed the inviting swell of her obviously cold breasts. She accessorized with silver and turquoise jewelry around her neck and on several fingers. A wide studded leather wristband adorned her left wrist. “Where you been? Ethiopia? You need to put some meat on your bones, girl.”
Shawn shrank away from her. The last thing she needed was someone like Nikki bringing attention to how pathetic she felt right now. Shawn had always thought that if it were possible to mate two women, Nikki could be the offspring of the sleek, sexy, beautiful Pat Benatar and the tough, punk, rebellious Joan Jett. Her indigo hair and ebony eyes could lure any woman she wanted from across any size room into the uninhibited confines of a bedroom. And she let people know it. Shawn had never felt comfortable around Nikki. She was jealous of Nikki’s confidence, for one. But she also wondered how Jaymi kept Nikki’s ego in check to keep peace within the group.
Thinking back to the Passion Play performances she’d seen in California, she was reminded of the flirtatious interactions between Nikki and Jaymi onstage. They were just part of the show and the audience ate it up, but they were always initiated by Nikki. Shawn got the impression they were Nikki’s way of sending a message to the audience that Jaymi was hers—even though she wasn’t. Shawn had to admit they were magic onstage, a kind of musical chemistry maintained between Jaymi’s reflective sweet melodies and Nikki’s fiery edge.
“Down, girl,” Jaymi said. “Shawn just got back from California. She’s staying with me for a while and I invited her to hang out while we practice.”
Nikki nodded, her eyes still fixed on Shawn, a sly smile upon her lips.
She thinks she can have me if she wants, thought Shawn. She is so wrong.
“Sure. Why not?” Nikki grinned. “You might learn something.”
Shawn glared at her, and she knew her contempt was probably apparent, but she was having a hard time caring. Fuck you, Nikki. She stayed silent and crossed her arms over her chest to keep from lashing out. She wasn’t about to let someone like Nikki fuck up the one good thing that had happened to her in years.
Once the band started to play, Shawn relaxed. Jaymi had made sure she was comfortable on a couch with snacks and a soda, as if she were sitting back to watch a movie. But once the music started, she quickly forgot about the spread in front of her. At last she could keep her eyes glued to Jaymi without it seeming weird.
The band ran through a few covers to warm up, and then through a few of their own well-established songs. They stopped periodically to fine-tune certain parts, solos, or instrumental arrangements, more often than not under Jaymi’s direction. It was obvious that she was the creative force behind it all.
After listening to them work through the creative parts of their music, Shawn felt inspired to get back to work on her own material. The need for survival had forced music to take a backseat lately, but surrounded by it now, she thought maybe she could return to it. An hour and a half later, they took a break, and Jaymi joined Shawn on the couch while the others went upstairs.
“So, how do we sound?” Jaymi asked.
“You guys are awesome. I always thought you were. I like the new songs, especially that last one you did.”
“Thanks. I just wish I could contribute more.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been battling writer’s block for months. All those new songs are Nikki’s and Kay’s. Brian writes with them a little, too. I feel like I’m not contributing at all.”
Shawn heard the frustration in Jaymi’s voice. That explains why Jaymi wasn’t singing lead on any of those songs. She gave Jaymi a light pat on the back. “You just lost your mom. Cripes, give yourself a break. It’ll come back.” The sorrow that filled Jaymi’s eyes at the mention of her mother broke Shawn’s heart. “Besides, even if you’re not writing, you’re helping with the arrangements and drum fills and stuff like that.”
Jaymi smiled. “It doesn’t help that I’m my own worst critic. I’m scrapping every idea I come up with lately.”
“I know what you mean,” Shawn said. “I toss half the shit I write.”
Jaymi smiled. “But we keep at it, don’t we?”
Before she could answer, the others had reentered and assumed their positions. Nikki had a beer in each hand, one of which she had already begun consuming. Shawn glanced at the clock. It wasn’t even three o’clock yet.
“Nikki, why do you always have to drink?” Jaymi said, clearly annoyed, and snatched the unopened bottle from Nikki’s hand.
“Hey!” Nikki tried to grab the bottle.
“I need you sharp. We’re working on new stuff and I need you sober.”
“Ah, fuck, I need more than two to de-sober me.” She laughed at her made-up word. “De-sober! That’s a good one.”
Shawn clenched her teeth. She hated the disrespect Nikki was showing Jaymi. She knew Jaymi could hold her own, but it didn’t matter. She had to say something. She got up and with Nikki’s attention on Jaymi, she easily slipped the open beer from Nikki’s other hand.
“I think you ought to show Jaymi a little respect. Drinks can wait till after rehearsal.”
When Nikki looked at her, Shawn expected her to look pissed off. Instead, she saw what looked like a bit of respect.
“Wow,” Nikki said, “so you do have a backbone after all.” She smiled widely. “I like that, cute stuff.” She then linked Shawn’s arm in hers and walked her away from everybody. “In fact,” she whispered so no one else could hear, “I find it sexy. I like a woman who can put me in my place.”
Shawn wasn’t flattered but did begrudgingly enjoy the confidence boost. She managed to slide her arm out of Nikki’s grip, and Jaymi quickly broke up the rendezvous and managed to get her
singer refocused on the task at hand.
They struggled through the next two songs, talking through changes and experimenting, until they had all grown hungry and tired and were getting cranky. Shawn was champing at the bit to play but figured it would have to wait until next time. I hope there is a next time.
When it seemed they were ready to wrap things up, Jaymi stopped everyone and looked in Shawn’s direction with a smile. “Well? Wanna sit in for a few Beatles tunes or something?”
Shawn lit up. “Really?”
“Well, yeah, we always try to end on a high note. No pun intended.” Jaymi laughed. “Go on, get out your baby and get in tune. You can plug in here.”
A mixture of excitement and anxiety swelled through Shawn’s entire body. She couldn’t wait to play, but she had never played with a full band before. The closest had been jamming at home with the stereo. What if she messed up? What if she sang off-key, or forgot the lyrics, or screwed up her timing?
The band was waiting. There was no time to dwell on what-ifs.
Shawn quickly set up and dove right into a lively version of “Can’t Buy Me Love,” the band joining in after the first line had escaped her mouth. It was amazing. Once Shawn made it through the first verse, she felt herself slide into her zone. Line by line, the butterflies dissipated and the rest of the world slipped away.
Jaymi switched to electric guitar and they followed with “Get Back.” Shawn was impressed with her skills on lead guitar. Jaymi’s impeccable timing, expressive phrasing, and energetic strums accompanied the entire group singing together through every chorus. Shawn’s high was rising, note by note, verse by verse. This was what she lived for. The oneness with the band, with the song, with the music. It was better than sex.
Well, almost better.
*
“I can see you haven’t lost your touch,” Jaymi said on the drive home.
“Well, thanks. Thank God I didn’t sell my guitar. I thought about it. I was that desperate. But what’s it say about me that I was willing to live in my car before I’d give up my guitar?”
Songs Unfinished Page 4