2 Queenie Baby - Out of Office

by Christina A. Burke

  Someone yelled "'Rum Song!'" and I felt vindicated for the first time in weeks.

  "Yep," I replied with a smile, "that's me. I've launched a new venture that I think you'll find really entertaining. I've teamed up with the Puerto Rican sensation, Carlos Rodriguez, to take 'The Rum Song' to the next level."

  There was some cheering and polite clapping, but clearly they weren't bowled over.

  I pushed on. "So we're here tonight to give you a sneak peak at our tour that starts next month. Please welcome my friend and fellow performer, Carlos Rodriguez!"

  As Carlos walked onto the stage, a collective gasp escaped the audience. I wasn't sure if it was his pirate garb or if it was just that he made "pirate" look so damn sexy. The pirates in the back cheered.

  "What the hell's he doin' dressed as a pirate?" the heckler in front demanded.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the pirates jump up from their seats at the bar.

  "Same thing your doin' dressed as a biker," I shot back. The audience roared at the put down—especially his fellow bikers.

  I could feel the mood lighten. I jumped into 'The Rum Song' without delay. The crowd cheered as locals recognized one of their favorite summertime songs. Carlos gave me a confident smile as he launched into the Spanish verse we had practiced. I smiled back; the guy was truly an amazing performer. I looked out into the audience and saw the bartender shaking his fist at two pirates who had jumped on top of the bar to dance a jig. It was loud, chaotic, and crazy. In other words, it was great.

  By the end of the set, I was breathing hard and ready for a break. I finished with my new song, tentatively titled "Once Upon a Time." Carlos accompanied me on the guitar in a beautiful unplugged version, making the stage feel intimate. I sensed the audience relax and fall under the spell of the ballad. It was a song about past loves, what could've been and what would never be. It was a goodbye song to my high school sweetheart, Rick. I'd written it recently, fresh on the heels of our brief reunion.

  I thanked the band and Carlos to thunderous applause. Carlos removed his hat and made an elegant bow. Then we began the arduous process of breaking down as quickly as possible so the next group could take the stage. Ralphie plugged in his iPod loaded with hip-hop and gave me a thumbs-up.

  "Hey, Di, great job! Never would've thought your pirate friend would be a crowd pleaser, ya know?"

  I nodded as I wrapped an electrical cord around my arm. "Thanks, Ralphie."

  "You still gonna come play for me this winter if you hit the big time on tour?" he asked.

  "I'll be there," I replied. I had a picture in my mind of me going from an interview on E! to the wild game dinner at the Liepsic Fire Hall. Oh, well, if the Vice-President could do it, then so could I.

  I headed back to our table and flopped into my seat. I tried to dab delicately with a napkin at the sweat dripping down my face. Carlos and the band headed to the bar, eager to catch up with the other pirates.

  Roger and Phil had their heads together over Phil's iPad. They paused long enough to give me a thumbs-up. No greater compliment from those two.

  Andre smiled. "Nice job."

  "No drink for the hard working rock star?" I asked, looking around for a fresh martini.

  He shook his head and pursed his lips.

  "What?" I asked, wondering why he was giving me that look.

  "Your drink's on its way," he replied cryptically.

  Warm hands touched my bare shoulders, and a slightly stubbly face tickled my neck, as Rick kissed me on the cheek and set a double martini in front of me.

  "You were amazing!" he said, sitting down next to me.

  "Rick! What are you doing here?" I stammered.

  Andre shook his head again.

  "Stop that!" I snapped at him.

  "I saw your post about trying to get some fans out here tonight, so I decided to come and show my support."

  "Yeah, Rick was telling me your new song is all about the two of you." Andre raised a brow and wagged his finger back and forth.

  Trapped, I replied, "It has some elements from our relationship."

  "Quite a relationship you've got there," Andre said.

  "There's no current relationship!" I insisted. "Tell him Rick."

  Rick sighed. "Well, I think there would've been if Mark hadn't elbowed his way into the picture."

  "He's got a way of doing that, doesn't he?" Andre agreed.

  "No he doesn't." I turned to Rick. "I really appreciate you coming out to support me, but I'm not really sure it's appropriate given our recent situation."

  "What situation is that?" Andre asked loudly.

  Rick leaned around me. "She's talking about me giving her my blessing to go to Puerto Rico with Mark."

  I could feel the steam rising. "I didn't need your blessing. I told you it would never work out between us. I picked Mark."

  Rick was completely undeterred. "She's right, she's right," he said lifting his hands. "She did say that, but I think what she really meant was that it wouldn't work right now."

  "No, that's not what I meant to say," I replied firmly.

  Andre's interest was piqued. "Why would you think that?" he asked Rick.

  "Don't answer that!" I ordered.

  Rick ignored me. "Because I've known her since she was a kid. She thinks she wants to have this big, adventurous life, but she's really a country girl at heart. And when she finally settles down to have a family, she's not going to be looking for mystery and mayhem in the big city." He paused and gave me a keen look. "She's going to want security and stability with a big garden out back."

  Right to the heart! The garden was an especially hard hit. I did love a big garden. We'd always had one in the backyard when I was growing up. That was the bad part about having people around who knew you "when."

  "Not true," I cried, but it sounded flat even to my ears.

  Andre looked thoughtful. "And I guess you've got a big garden out back," he said to Rick.

  Rick smiled. "Acres."

  "So your plan is to just wait Mark out?" he asked.

  Rick nodded, adding, "I figure Mark'll fuck things up in no time. He's got that look about him."

  Andre smiled. "You're a keen judge of character, Rick. But doesn't it bother you that she's with another guy now?"

  Rick shrugged. "Neither one of us is gettin' any younger. I'm not the hothead I used to be. We've both had our share of life experiences. Besides, I'm not staying home takin' cold showers while I'm waiting."

  I wanted to kick him.

  Andre seemed impressed. "That's some strategy you've got." He glanced back at the bar, saying grimly. "Looks like I'm on pirate duty."

  "So what's your stake in this?" Rick asked as Andre stood up. "Do I have to worry about you, too?"

  Andre gave me a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Nope. I fucked things up long before Mark was on the scene. And I don't have a garden either." The finality of his words hit me like a sledge hammer.

  "But I think you're wrong about one thing, Rick," Andre said turning back. "She belongs on the stage, not in the kitchen. I've worked for so-called rock stars for years. She's the real deal." He gave me a smile that reached his eyes this time. "My stake in this is that I'm going to help her get there."

  "Looking for a promotion from pirate herder?" Rick asked with an eye on the escalating chaos at the bar.

  "Something like that," Andre said with sigh.

  I watched him walk away, feeling our old relationship ending and a new one beginning.

  I turned to Rick. "You need to go home. Forget about gardens. I'm not interested."

  Rick looked a little deflated. Good. I was still surprised he just took it upon himself to trot all the way over here because of a Facebook post.

  "Well, maybe this isn't the best time to tell you this," he said with a pause, "but I'm here for the weekend."

  "What? Why?" I stared at him dumbfounded.

  "For the Renaissance Fair."

  "Since when are you interested
in the Renaissance Fair?" I demanded.

  "Since your mom invited me," he replied a little sheepishly.

  Oh, really. "Why on earth would she invite you?"

  He shrugged. "She said you needed a knight in shining armor. And I guess she thinks I'm it."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  "I'm glad you called," my mom greeted me. I had been too agitated during the last night to call. So I waited until I'd had a cup of coffee in me before picking up the phone in the morning.

  She continued, "We're going to drop off The Grands at four this afternoon. Will you—"

  "Why would you invite Rick to the Renaissance Fair?" I interrupted.

  There was a moment of silence, and she replied, "Oh, you know about that?"

  "Yes, Mom, I do. Because he showed up at my show last night. Why did you do it?" I demanded.

  "I'd invited him before I met Mark," she said with a sigh. "Hey, it's better to have too many men than not enough, I always say."

  I wanted to bang my head on the table. "Well, I don't say that, Mom. I say I'm trying my best not to screw up this relationship. And it's not going so well." My voice reached a screechy pitch before I burst into tears.

  "Diana, what's wrong? It's not just Rick showing up, is it?" she asked.

  I held the phone away from my face and reached for a tissue. "No," I said, getting control of myself. "I think Mark has someone in Atlanta. Maybe he's breaking up with her while he's down there. I don't know anymore. I'm not even sure he loves me," I sighed.

  "That's the bad thing about mystery men," my mom said, "they usually have a skeleton or two hidden in their closets. In this case it's a woman. That's why you go to Puerto Rico with men like Mark and marry men like Rick."

  I rolled my eyes. "Mom, please get off the Rick kick. It's not happening."

  "Okay, fine," she said. "But I'm not uninviting him to the fair." She paused. "Anyway, why aren't you sure if Mark loves you?"

  "Because he hasn't said it yet," I replied. Then I added in a rush, "And I shouldn't really expect it yet, right? I mean we've only been seeing each other a few weeks."

  My mom paused to think about this. "Have you said it to him?"

  "No," I replied, feeling silly.

  "Then maybe you shouldn't be asking yourself why he hasn't said it to you. Maybe you should ask why you haven't said it to him."

  Wow, my mom had a way of digging up the truth and making me feel like an idiot all with only a few words.

  "Food for thought. Anyway," she continued, changing the subject, "I was hoping you'd take Granddaddy and Uncle Grover with you tonight. We're ordering room service for Aunt Pearl and Mammaw so we can go out to dinner with Ashley and Dan."

  "You know I still have Sally here, too," I reminded her. I felt I had more than met my familial obligations without having to drag two old men around with me tonight.

  "Yeah, and I've got The Grands to drag around on a daily basis. Would you like to change places?" she snapped.

  Not really. But I wouldn't give her the satisfaction of admitting her life sucked more than mine.

  "We'll drop them off at four and pick them up in the morning for the fair."

  "Fine," I replied. "Just keep Rick out of my way."

  "Honey, that's up to the good Lord above. What's meant to be, will be," she replied cryptically.

  I spent the rest of the morning changing the strings on my guitar and cleaning my condo. The chores gave me some time to reflect. I couldn't believe I'd broken down like that with my mom. I guess avoiding all contact with Mark until he got back wasn't working so well. I resolved to call him this afternoon. I needed a little time to get myself together so I didn't end up bawling on the phone to him, too. I was also a little worried that flipping him the electronic bird was the last straw; I hadn't heard from him since.

  I was playing a short set this evening on the main stage at the Renaissance Fair. Mostly folk ballads and a few slow tempo originals. I didn't play the typical Renaissance Fair songs, but no one seemed to mind. I think the fair organizers liked the way I looked in the princess gown, and so far I'd had no complaints from the crowds of revelers. Tomorrow I would be playing at several locations around the city, ending at the docks as part of a medieval talent show. Poets, jugglers, comic bards, and, of course, musicians all vied for the top honor of the Fair. The organizers encouraged all the hired musicians and actors to enter to offset the amateurs, but we were exempt from top prizes. They came up with all kinds of funny sub-categories for participants that didn't finish in the top three. Last year I was awarded the title of Most Likely to Meet a Handsome Prince.

  Come to think of it, it might be just the perfect venue for Carlos and his pirates. Although last night went great, I still didn't have any firm dates for us to play locally. Making a big splash at the talent show might be just the ticket. "The Rum Song" would be perfect.

  I texted a quick message to Carlos, detailing my idea. He came back with an excited "Aye!" and signed it with a "P)" which I assumed was a pirate emoticon.

  Time to get a shower and out the door. I had promised Carol I'd fill in at the office for her for an hour while she ran some business errands. This would also give us a chance to go over our first full week of numbers. Carol was very into numbers; she had spreadsheets detailing expenses and revenue. I wasn't so much into numbers. I just wanted to make sure Greene's stayed open so that I could have a job when I needed one and, eventually, get my investment back.

  * * *

  It was a beautiful spring day, so I decided to walk the couple of blocks to the office. My spirits lifted as my feet hit the brick sidewalk. The smell of hyacinths and lilacs wafted through the air. Preparations for the Renaissance Fair were underway, with shop owners putting on sidewalk sales and bar owners announcing performances and drink specials in honor of the event. I made a mental note to stop by my favorite bar, McGlynn's, after my meeting with Carol. I could use a martini before Granddaddy and Uncle Grover showed up. Maybe that would be a good time to call Mark as well…

  My phone rang. It was Mark. How's that for serendipity?

  I took a deep breath and answered.

  "Hi," I said brightly.

  "Hi. Glad to hear you're interested in exchanging some pleasantries instead of flipping me off," he teased.

  Teasing was a good sign. "Sorry about that. It's been kind of stressful around here."

  "I can only imagine," he replied. "But I'm wrapping things up down here today, and I'll be back early tomorrow. Maybe I can even be there in time to crawl into bed with you."

  My stomach did a little flip.

  "Well," I sighed, "they'll be two cranky old men in my bed tomorrow morning. I'll be sleeping on the couch."

  "Yeah, that could really wreck the mood," he agreed. "So stay on Ed's boat this weekend."

  Oh, that I could. Ed's boat was at a slip off of Dock Street. The yacht was the epitome of old-fashioned luxury. And there was this big, comfy bed…

  "I can't," I said, "they'll burn the place down if I leave them alone."

  "They can't be that bad."

  "They're that bad, Mark."

  He sighed. "I really wanted some time alone so we could talk."

  "I'd like that too," I said, adding, "if we're actually going to talk about what's going on in your life. Because I'm not feeling too comfortable right now. You talk about tying up lose ends in Atlanta, but you've obviously got more than just packing to do."

  "You're talking about my old job," he said.

  "And Marsha," I responded, grinding out the word.

  "Diana, there's nothing to tie up with Marsha. That was 'tied up' over a year ago. She was my partner, and we were involved for a brief time after I had left the CIA. You don't have to worry about me and Marsha getting back together." I pictured him raking his hand through his hair.

  "Then why'd she call you at night. I heard the tone in her voice," I insisted. "I'm more worried about what her plans are, not yours."

  There was a moment of silence.
I'd hit a nerve. Ah-hah, I thought, I'm right.

  "She's pursuing me—for work. She wants me to continue to work part-time on some of the old projects we handled. She eats, sleeps, and breathes her job and thinks everyone else should, too."

  "I know that's what you think, but I can guarantee that she has a different motive."

  Mark was getting frustrated. "Well, I guess you would know. How many ex-boyfriends have you had following you around in the last twenty-four hours?"

  Oh, yeah, that.

  "I'll take your silence to mean there's been at least one. I love how you get all bent out of shape—about a woman you've never met, I might add—and I'm supposed to just suck it up and get over the fact that you have ex-boyfriends declaring their love for you on a daily basis!"

  "Well, at least they're not afraid to declare their love!" I shot back and ended the call.

  I was flushed and breathing heavily as I reached Greene's Staffing. I thought about calling him back, but was too worked up. The phone rang again, and I answered it quickly.

  "I'm sorry, Mark," I said in a rush.

  There was silence on the other end, but I could sense someone was there. I looked at the phone and saw it was the Unknown number again.

  "Who is this?" I demanded.

  The line went dead.

  I stared moodily at the entrance to Greene's, thinking seriously about skipping the meeting and going straight to McGlynn's. A fight with Mark, a call from Mr. Unknown who might actually a blood-thirsty gangbanger. Not exactly a great day so far. Then as I reached for the door of Greene's, the door to Spellbound, a Wiccan specialty store, opened and a familiar figure stepped out.

  "Mrs. Kester?" I said in surprise.

  She glared at me, obviously angry that I'd caught her in the store. "So what's it to you?" she asked.

  "Just surprised to see you in a Wiccan store," I said, trying to peek in her bag.

  "They have an excellent selection of candles."

  "Do they?" I said raising an eyebrow. "I didn't know that."

  "Yes," she replied stiffly. "Well, good day to you."

  My spidey-senses were on red alert, but I decided to let it drop for now. I opened the door to Greene's and stepped inside.