Read AT 29 Online

Authors: D. P. Macbeth

AT 29 (59 page)

“I am.” She smiled, took another sip of her wine and then opened her menu. “What shall we have?”

It was a short walk back to his hotel through Fitzroy Gardens. They strolled together in silence. The dinner conversation had been stilted and unsatisfying. All Jimmy wanted was to enjoy his last hours in Australia with the one person who made his heart leap. Instead, Les seemed distant and preoccupied. His attempts to get her to open up met with a wall of vague responses empty of the engaging charm he had come to expect. At various times he thought he must have said something wrong. Why else would she act this way? He still wanted to touch her, hold her hand, to take her in his arms. Now, that prospect seemed far away. He kept his hands in his pockets.

“Can I ask you a question?” He forced himself to break the silence.

“Go ahead?”

“Why did you leave Willies without saying good-bye?”

“To leave things open so you'd come back and tell us what happened.”

“Sister's idea?”

“Mine.”

Jimmy gave her a quizzical look. “You wanted to see me again?”

“One last time.” She kept her eyes on the path ahead.

On impulse he put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed her close. Then he reached down to take her hand. She slipped her soft fingers into his.

“It feels different with you,” he said. Her willing hand in his made his confidence surge. “I've been thinking about you constantly since the moment we met.”

“Thinking what about me?”

“The fact that you are an American who grew up not twenty miles away from my hometown, yet now we meet on the other side of the world. The way everything about you feels familiar. Like I've always known you.”

Les smiled and gave out a brief sigh. “You've been doing a lot of thinking.”

“What do you mean one last time?”

“That's obvious, isn't it? Tomorrow, you go home.”

They came out of the park and waited for the traffic to pass before crossing the street to the hotel.

“I have a tour to plan and
Back and Blue
will be released in a few weeks.”

“That's what I mean.”

Jimmy stopped and turned to face her, still gripping her hand, unwilling to let go even for an instant. “We're just beginning. I'll see you again.”

Leslie didn't answer. She turned back to the street and pulled gently on his hand to cross. Inside, they took a table in the bar. A few businessmen were scattered at the other tables. Jimmy didn't feel like drinking. He realized with satisfaction that it was a marked departure from his boozing days. He ordered a sparkling water. Les ordered Balvenie neat.

“Something has been bothering me,” he said. “When I said I merely scribbled some notes, that I didn't write the music, you seemed to already know.”

“You don't have the patience.”

“That's my point. How did you know?”

“Just a feeling.”

“Why did you write them for me?”

“Same thing. It felt like it was what I should do.”

“I held flying until tomorrow so I could see you tonight.”

“I'm glad.”

“So what do we do now?”

“What do you mean?”

Jimmy looked out toward the lobby and the elevators leading to the guest rooms above. Leslie followed his eyes without commenting. He reached across the table and clutched her hand.

“I want us to spend every minute together until my plane leaves.”

She raised her face and met his gaze. “Then what?”

“I don't know.”

“I do. You disappear back to the U. S. Maybe I see you again, maybe I don't.”

Jimmy knew she was right. He wanted to say the right thing, but he knew he couldn't give her the reassurance she needed. Touring was a vagabond life.

“It doesn't have to be that way.”

“What other way can it be?” She gazed at him expectantly.

“We can take what comes. Tonight, for example, we can enjoy the time we have. Let tomorrow take care of itself until we can meet again.”

“Is that the way you want it to be, open ended?”

“No, not open ended.” He was sputtering in exasperation. “We hardly know each other and we don't have the time to wait until we do.”

She looked away. “I can wait.”

“Even when we have no idea when we'll meet again?”

“Because of it.”

“I can't.” He was sorry he said it. Her eyes came back to his, flashing anger.

“Do you think this is some kind of game? I'm not in your league. Suppose I do what your eyes just told me you want me to do. Suppose it's everything we hope it will be. Then you're gone. I'm left here trying to forget when I know I'll never forget, but you will. You'll be off on your tour fighting off every girl who hears your songs. Or maybe you won't fight them off. Of course you won't. There's too many of them. Isn't that how it works? Then maybe you do come back to Australia, but it always ends the same.”

“Les,” he pleaded, “what do you want me to do?”

“There's nothing you can do. And, I can't be a different person for one night.” She looked toward the door leading outside.

Jimmy panicked. “Don't go. I won't press.”

They went quiet, each trying to think of a way to change the subject. He was embarrassed. It was stupid of him to suggest what he knew she believed would be a one-night stand. The euphoria of the last few days dispersed like air from a balloon. In a flash, he was depressed as well as tongue-tied. The thought of leaving Australia, leaving her behind, filled him with regret.

“You described Surfer's Paradise like you knew what I was feeling.”

She brightened. “You were on another level. It was hypnotic.”

“I wish we'd met then.”

“I already knew you. It was worth every penny to fly up there.”

“Have you done that before, flown off to see a concert somewhere?”

“Never. As a matter of fact, I'm in the middle of budgeting for next quarter. I've never gone absent in the midst of number crunching.”

“You're committed to the orphanage.”

“The boys have become my life.”

“I don't want to ask.”

“You want to know if I'll ever go home again?” Jimmy nodded. “Not for good unless something happens with my work here. I try to get to the States once a year at Christmas or Easter, so far so good. I miss my parents. They've been over a few times, but it's getting harder for them. So, I make the trip.”

“How long do you stay?”

“A couple of weeks. Then I miss the boys and hurry back. What will you do when you return to New York?”

“Step one is to get a new band together. Well, not exactly new. I already have a drummer and lead guitar. I'll break-in a harmonica player who just signed on. That leaves keyboard and bass. I'll run a few auditions and see who's best.”

“After that?” She showed acute interest.

“Lot's of practice. I start touring in a month. The album will be released ahead of that. Interviews, radio promos, the whole package.”

“It sounds very exciting.”

“I'm coming off a good reception here. I hope it will be same back home.”

They talked for an hour. At times they laughed, gradually shedding the tenseness that started the evening. He reached across and clutched her hand whenever he had something witty or important to say. She accepted his touch, returning it with the same comfort they'd enjoyed on the walk through Fitzroy Gardens. It was natural and familiar. Shortly after eleven Jimmy rose and went to the bar to pay the bill. Les waited until he came back.

“Let's take a walk,” he offered, reaching for her hand.

“Where?”

“Secret place.” He led her through the lobby. It was quiet. A young woman, deeply concentrated on a hidden screen behind the counter, did not seem to notice as they passed her station. He turned a corner into a small vestibule fronting on an array of elevators leading to the upper floors. Les stopped when she saw them, but she did not take her hand from his.

“I can't.”

“I need you, Les.”

“Jimmy, don't…”

“It can't just end.”

“No.”

“I don't want to be without you.”

“Please, you're making this too hard.”

“Haven't you ever felt this way before?”

He pulled her close. The kiss was desperate, filled with longing like he needed to be reminded of how it felt sometime long ago. Then the elevator opened without warning. Les pulled away just as a young couple emerged. They paused for a moment then hurried past. He waited for them to round the corner then took hold of Les again.

“Give me a chance.”

“Wait for you even if you never come back?” She drew away. “I can't do it.” Her lips trembled. Tears gathered in her eyes. “I'll say it. I've never wanted to be with anyone more in my life, but I can't have you. You belong to a different world, other people.”

“Les…”

“Jimmy stop.” She touched her fingers to his lips, forcing him to keep silent. “You must go and I must stay.”

She kissed his cheek then rushed away through the lobby.

Forty-Three

I met him at his apartment in New York. He looked magnificent. I must admit I got all horny, but no luck. I missed my chance when we were younger. It was the old Jimmy though, confidence back. The interview went well, all the trades picked up my piece. It led to another idea, but that came later. First, he had to show the college crowd he was for real, Buckman, not Button anymore
.

- Alice Limoges

He was despondent on the endless flight over the Pacific. Les' rejection left him in a fog of discontent. Her parting words played in his mind as he tried to picture her face, but he could only visualize her back as she hurried away. The layover in LA was spent sleeping on a couch in the waiting area. Only after he boarded the night owl flight across the continent did he find the resolve to concentrate on what lay ahead. First, he'd do the interview with Alice. Then he'd see Sonny and make a plan for auditions and rehearsals. Benson would be a headache. He'd meet him in Millburn and get his return to the band over with as amicably as possible. He had to call Peggy, too. She'd want to know about Les. Of course, there wasn't much to say. Over before it had a chance.

Alice breezed in with a flighty air that masked her skill with a pen. She showed him her review of
Button's Back and Blue
, which he read with increasing pleasure as her piercing insight captured the essence of each song. To his surprise, she did not dwell on
Peg
. She concluded the piece with a prediction that his album would go platinum. They talked for two hours. She took notes at a frantic pace, interspersing questions and comments to spur him on. It was an easy flow between two people who had known each other for a long time. At the end, she closed her notebook and sat back on the couch.

“I didn't write much about
Peg
because it speaks for itself.”

“Your sister brings out the best in me.”

“Are you straightened out?”

“You tell me.”


Back and Blue
is your best effort by far.”

“Then that's the answer.”

“It's all about the music with you? Nothing else matters?”

“I wouldn't say that.” They talked for another hour before she finally sensed that he had other things to do.

“I'll send you a copy before the piece goes to print.” At the door she squeezed his arm. “We should have made it that time. I'm still mad at Peggy.”

“You're better than that.”

“It would have been nice if you had been my first.”

***

Sonny came out of the kitchen. “Back in business?” he asked, as if Jimmy hadn't been away for over a month.

“We need a bass and keyboards.”

“Benson?”

“I'll see him first.”

“Best take him so we don't lose any time.”

Jimmy nodded. “Where's the harmonica player?”

“Hartford, waiting for your call. I drilled him hard at my place. He's real good.”

“You'll have to quit your job.”

“Gave my notice two weeks ago.” Sonny beamed.

Jimmy pulled some papers from his shirt pocket. “I wrote these in Australia.” He passed Les' handiwork across the table. “There's a new guy coming over in two weeks. They need some riffs.”

Sonny rifled through the pages. “For you or him?”

“Him.” He reached into his pocket again and pulled out a cassette. “Listen to this first. Lot's of power so don't hold back. His voice can handle anything. I have more songs back at the apartment, but they need work before we can set the arrangements.”

Sonny looked up from the songs. “When's your album coming out?”

“Soon. Then we tour.”

The brain trust met in McCabe's' office the next morning. Cindy, Jimmy and Ellis embraced like it was old times. Then they sat opposite McCabe ready to go to work.

“Eleven colleges. Start the day after Labor Day in Maine, end in Miami.” Miles was all business. “I do an interview at WAGZ-FM on Monday. I want to debut the album on the air if the station plays along.
Button's Back and Blue
goes into the stores the following week.” He turned to Jimmy. “What's the schedule on that magazine article?”

“Interview happened yesterday.”

“She'll write good things?”

“She likes the songs.”

Miles nodded then turned to Ellis. “The Brits' albums go into the stores at the same time. I took out an ad in two trades to run for a week. Cindy is writing a press release. Maybe some others will pick it up.”

“We need to talk about the tour.” Ellis looked at Jimmy. “You don't have time to audition new people. The Brits can fill in for now. I think you should use Eugene on bass and Melinda on keyboards.” Jimmy remembered both players. The striking young woman was competent, but he had misgivings about Eugene.

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