Soleil went to the front of the suite and put the Do Not Disturb sign on the door. She went back to the bedroom, ran her fingers though her two inches of curly hair and stripped to her underwear. She turned down the sheets and slipped under the covers. She lay on her back and turned her neck to look around the room. She still couldn’t believe she was here. As soon as she woke up, she was going to order everything on the room service menu.
Lucy
Lucy glanced at her watch. Soleil was probably in London by now. She had heard part of the album. It was fantastic. Mik would have been proud of her.
She went back to leafing through the papers on her desk. A lot had happened in the past year. She was going to set up a scholarship at Stanford. She wanted the scholarship to be earmarked for a multicultural female student, preferably someone pursuing a career in the sciences.
She had discussed with her accountant how much to bestow to Stanford. Thankfully, she was able to make the gift larger than her original intention. Now that a major rock group had re-recorded “Working at the J&L,” there was even more money in royalties being generated. She was even able to give money to the remaining members of Sheffield Steel who had originally done the song with Mik.
“The Lucille E. Williams DeSalle and Mariah L. Williams Scholarship Fund.” She read the name out loud. Even though the endowment was coming from her inheritance, she wanted her mother’s name on the scholarship.
When she was in college, Mariah was also in college, getting her master’s degree. Because of her mother’s properties, she wasn’t eligible for much financial aid, so Mariah paid for both of their educations. Mik did not contribute anything to the education of his four children.
But despite his lack of support, Eve had established a scholarship in his name. The Mik DeSalle and Richard Shelton, Jr. Memorial Scholarship was set up at the Music Department of the University of Pittsburgh. Everyone had a scholarship fund except Soleil.
She looked up at the photo that she had recently hung up on her office wall. It was one of the proofs from Soleil’s photo session for her album cover. In the photo Soleil wore the T-shirt she had kept on display in her apartment. “BEWARE: Bitch With Guitar” shouted the purple shirt. Below the words, Soleil held one of the guitars she inherited from Mik. On her face was a broad smile. Soleil had not set up a scholarship, but she had done a lot more. She had already set aside money for Mika’s college education. She had donated some of Mik’s recording equipment to a low-income high school in LA and a reservation school in Oklahoma. The school donations had been done anonymously. She had a feeling Soleil had anonymously given away even more money. But she knew Soleil would never set up a scholarship in Faith’s name. Charity was still harassing her for money, even though she set up a fund for her care in an assisted living apartment.
Lucy sold her business to her partner. She still updated her father’s website, but she had relinquished the rest of her accounts. She was looking into going back to school to get her own master’s degree, possibly in communications. She needed time off, time to finally deal with the emotions and experiences she had buried in her head.
Next to Soleil’s picture was Mika’s latest school picture. It seemed strange to think of Mika as her sister. After her decision to live with Mariah, it only took Mika a few months to make the move permanent. She envied the bond between the two of them. Mika was a happy, seemingly well-adjusted little girl. She loved Malibu and she loved her new kitten, Galileo. It was decided that when Mika started asking questions, they would all get together to honestly tell her about her past and her parents.
Lucy looked forward to having a therapy session together with her mother and her sisters. So far, she was making a lot of progress. She was finally coming to terms with the dysfunctional male relationships that had populated her life. She was strong enough to deal with the gang rape, the kidnapping and even the possibility her brother had raped her. One day, she would be ready to invite a man to share her life.
She turned her attention back to the papers. She reviewed them one last time and added her signature. She was using her father’s last name once again. She knew he would be proud.
Eve
Eve picked up the phone on the second ring. The caller ID display alerted her to the international call, and she knew immediately who was on the line.
“Hello, bitch.” Eve smiled into the phone as she uttered her usual greeting to her sister.
“It’s fucking cold here. No wonder your ancestors hightailed it to America.”
Talking to Soleil was always an adventure. “They are your ancestors, too, Soleil. And it is even colder here in Pittsburgh. It is colder than a nun’s tits today.”
Soleil laughed. “Is that what they taught you in Catholic school?”
“No. In Catholic school, I learned how to smoke and do drugs.”
Soleil laughed again. “You went to school for that? You could have just lived in my house.”
“How is London, besides the shitty weather?” Since the time they spent together in LA, Eve and Soleil had grown closer together. It was true they were more alike than the easygoing Lucy. They yelled and screamed and swore at each other, but Eve felt a closeness to Soleil she did not feel with Lucy. In a lot of ways, Soleil reminded her of Ricky.
“I don’t know. I just woke up. They put me up at a killer hotel. I have a suite. It’s bigger than my apartment. I think that I’ll steal the robe and the other shit out of the bathroom.”
Eve shook her head. “Just because you are a big rock star doesn’t mean you have to steal something. Get out your camera and take some pictures to download to me. Maybe I’ll recommend the place to my clients.”
Eve had started a travel agency, specializing in corporate travel. In the age of Internet travel sites, she only had a few customers, but she was doing what she wanted to do. She was able to work out of her new house, thanks to the in-law cottage in the backyard.
Soleil did not respond. “You did remember to bring your laptop, didn’t you?” Eve asked.
For Christmas, Lucy had given everyone a laptop and a digital camera. She thought it was a great way for all of them to keep in touch and share their lives. Even though Mariah and Mika lived together, she had bought each of them one, too.
Soleil snorted. “Yeah. I got the damn thing somewhere. I think that I put the camera in my backpack. I already got a fuckin’ camera on my phone, how many more do I need?” She snorted again. “I should pick up some good-looking English guy, bring him back to my room and make a porno movie for dear ol’ Sister Lucy. That will keep her in therapy for a few more years.”
Eve laughed, even though it wasn’t really funny. “You know that Lucy means well.” She didn’t want to bring up the therapy, because Soleil did not want to go to the group therapy session Lucy planned to set up. “But if you made a porno movie, it would just end up on the Internet. And Brad would probably download it.” Eve had told her sister all about her crazy ex-husband.
Soleil sighed. “And speaking of freaks, I got a bunch of flowers from my favorite child molester,” she quipped.
“What?” Eve had forgotten he lived in London.
“Yeah. He wants me to meet the wife. What’s next, meeting the kids? I can see me sitting there, saying to his daughter, ‘Hey, you’re cute. You’re about the same age I was when your father bought me for the night.’ Wouldn’t that be a fuckin’ Kodak moment? He’s got a copy of the demo. He says he loves it. I don’t know what he is trying to prove.”
“It’s guilt, that’s all. He’s getting older. He wants to clear his conscience.” Eve looked at the antique clock on her mantel. She loved having a fireplace. “I hope you’re not using the hotel phone?”
“Of course I am. What the fuck do I care? The record company will pay my bill. They plan to make all of the money they can from my black ass, so I should at least be able to make a few phone calls.”
“Who else did you call?”
“You are the first. Because of the time di
fference, it is too early to call California. I’ve got to call Mika and Mariah before they leave for the day. Then I will call Lucy. Maybe I’ll call my old guitar teacher. Maybe I’ll call that old bag Charity. Maybe I’ll make crank calls to Australia, I don’t know.”
Eve shook her head. “Send me an email and some pictures of that hotel.”
“Okay, Evelyn. I’ll say hello to your ancestors for you.”
“They are your ancestors, too, don’t forget. The blood of the British Empire is running though your veins, too. Cheers!”
“Cheers, my ass. Fuck the British. I ain’t eating none of their beef. I ain’t getting no Mad Cow Disease from these limey motherfuckers.”
Eve laughed again. “Goodbye, Soleil. Have fun.”
“The fuckin’ sun doesn’t even shine here. I’m going to the guitar shops and spend some money.”
“Why don’t you go to a spa and chill out?”
“You chill out, you cold bitch.” Soleil hung up.
Eve ran her fingers through her hair. She hadn’t found a hairdresser yet that could cut her hair like the one in Beverly Hills. She looked out of the window. Soleil had forgotten to wish her a happy birthday. She decided to blame the omission on jet lag. She hoped Soleil would realize the date before she spoke to Mika.
Soleil
Soleil looked at her watch. The dual-time watch, a gift from Mariah and Mika, was set to England time and California time. It was still too early to call California. Mika rummaged through her bags to get to the laptop. She knew she would have several emails from Mika. Mika seemed to think Soleil could not go through the day without hearing from her. Maybe she was right.
When she turned on the laptop, the reminder screen Lucy had installed popped up. It read, “ January 14—Birthday of Eve and Mika.”
Soleil hit her head with the palm of her hand. “Oh, shit!” She had forgot to wish Eve a happy birthday. She had been so involved in planning for her trip that she had forgot about everything else.
She picked up the phone again.
Eve’s answering machine came on. “Happy birthday, you old witch. I’ll bring you something back from London. Try not to get drunk and shoot anybody tonight.”
She chuckled as she hung up. She loved sparring with her big sister. She couldn’t wait to see her again.
The room service menu was sitting on the table beckoning to her. It was time to chow down. She perused the menu and ordered several expensive, non-beef entrees, as well as two desserts.
While she waited for the food, she decided to check her email. She had to pull most of the stuff out of her backpack in order to find the adapters she needed for the strange English plugs. She didn’t want to drain the battery on the laptop. This stupid country didn’t even have the right kind of electricity. No wonder all of them wanted to move to America. She had three messages from her little sister.
Hi Soleil!
How was your plane ride to England? Did you see any sharks outside your window? Mama Mariah said that I can get a new jacket for my birthday. I want to get one like yours. Write me back, okay?
MLS
Mika signed all of her emails with her initials. She had already decided that the name of her architectural firm would be “MLS Designs.” Soleil was amazed at her littlest sister’s intelligence and determination. When she was eight, all she wanted to do was get away from Faith’s fists. When Faith was eight, all she wanted was to get away from her male relatives’ dicks. Mika would have a different life than all of them. She would never have to want for anything, except a father. Soleil hoped she wouldn’t let that fuck up her life, like it had done to her, Lucy and Eve.
She read the second email. Mika was excited about spending her first birthday at her new home.
Dear Soleil,
I am having a birthday party tomorrow. It will be real small. Lucy can’t come down, but Connie is coming from Santa Barbara. I invited some kids from my new school. I’m getting my jacket tonight. I will wear it for you when you come back. I’m going to get a present for Eve, too. What do you think she would like? Galileo says hi!
MLS
Who in the fuck would name a cat “Galileo”? She could imagine Mika in her little black leather biker jacket, carrying that stupid cat around.
Dear Soleil,
The jacket is cool! You will like it. I got a fancy purse for Eve. Did you get my Big Ben? I hope you didn’t forget. Don’t forget to call me tomorrow. Mama Mariah made me cookies to take to school. She doesn’t know I ate some of them. Don’t tell her, okay? I will be eight years old tomorrow. I have to go to bed now.
MLS
There was a knock on the door. Soleil tightened the belt of the robe. The attendant brought in a rolling cart laden with food. Soleil fished in her bag to find a tip for him. What was the fucking exchange rate? The young Indian man looked at the bill and smiled. She assumed it must have been enough.
The food smelled good. Her stomach growled in agreement. She pulled the cart over to the table in the bedroom. She took one bite of the roasted chicken she had ordered. She hoped there was no such thing as Mad Chicken Disease. Soon her first record would be released, the culmination of a dream. Where would she be this time next year? No matter what happened, she was satisfied with the music. For once in her life, she had done good.
A New Song
Mariah kept staring at her reflection in the mirror. She barely recognized the woman staring back at her. A lot had happened since Mik’s death. She looked at the deep purple silk dress that hugged her body like a lover’s caress. Versace. She had never been a slave to designers, but now she could understand what the fuss was about. She thought her part-time assistant had been joking when she told her that Donatella was on the line. The House of Versace wanted to create a dress for her to wear to the Grammy Awards.
She would have preferred a large caftan, but Donatella insisted on a more fitting design. The next day, Italian tailors arrived at her house, taking her measurements and assessing her figure. It was then she realized that she still had a figure.
With the Christian Louboutin heels and her braids piled artfully on her head, she was almost six feet tall. She twisted the ring on her left hand. After Soleil gave it back to her, she put it on and never took it off again. She closed her eyes, feeling the weight of the false eyelashes. Would Mik have been proud?
She blinked and looked in the mirror again. He would have been delighted. He would have stood behind her, brushing back his hair and grinning. His white teeth and blue eyes would be gleaming. After all, this was his day, his triumph.
Mariah and Soleil wrote and recorded a song based on the melodies Mik had left on the tape recorder. The song had shot up the charts. It was nominated for Song of the Year. Tonight they were going to sing the song live, for the thousands of people attending the show and the millions of people watching on television and online. They had put Mik’s name on the publishing credits, increasing the inheritance of his three daughters exponentially.
After thirty years Mariah Louise Williams was a star, whether she wanted to be or not.
Instead of playing the song on piano and guitar like they had done on the records, they would only do the vocals, accompanied by an all star list of musicians—Elton John on piano, Jimmy Page on guitar, Chris Squire on bass and Phil Collins on drums. It was crazy. When she went to the rehearsals with Soleil, she started crying when she saw the band waiting for her. She knew that Mik, wherever he was, was laughing his ass off.
Soleil had arranged it all, never telling her exactly who would be in the backing group. When she saw Mariah’s face, Soleil ran over and gave her a tight hug.
“Isn’t it fuckin’ awesome! Who would have thought we could pull this together! When they asked me who we wanted to accompany us, I just threw out the names of the best of the best. And they all fuckin’ came through!” Soleil’s eyes were shining and she wiped away the tears.
She spent a few minutes introducing herself to the ones she hadn’t met before and
reconnecting with the ones she knew from her days with Sheffield Steel. She had to remind Elton John that she had sang with him once, replacing one of his background singers. She kissed Page on the lips. Once, she had cooked an old-fashioned Southern breakfast for the great guitarist, back in the day.
The rehearsal went fine, better than she had expected. After all, none of them were young any more.
Tonight everyone would be here, except for little Mika. She thought all of the commotion and confusion would be too much for the little girl. She let her stay over at Connie Dyson’s house, the first home she had ever known. Connie promised to let her watch it on television.
“Mommy Mariah’s gonna be on TV! Sister Soleil’s gonna be on TV, too!” Mika had sung the words throughout the house for the last two days. She had promised to get her lots of autographs. Soleil had already gotten some from the band members. Mika was only nine, but she already knew most of the classic rock musicians. She would be thrilled to see them singing along with Elton. One of her favorite songs was “Crocodile Rock.” What would Mik have thought of his granddaughter?
But everyone else was here. Mariah used part of one royalty check to insure that everyone would be able to share this special moment. Of course Lucy and Evelyn were sitting at their table near the front of the hall. But in the back, in the audience seats, were the rest of the people who had populated their world since the beginning. She had gotten a penthouse suite at one of LA’s finest hotels to hold them all. Her mother, Esther, and her sisters Agnes and Bertha had come from Alabama. She knew that big sister Agnes was impressed, but she would never admit it aloud. Gina Malloy and Olivia Stephenson, her back-up partners in Sheffield Steel, were there. And Mik’s entire old band had showed up. Some of them had aged in a comfortable, Charlie Watts kind of way. Others acted as if the seventies hadn’t been decades away. But she loved them all.
Three Chords, One Song Page 26