Authors: K.T. Hastings
“You're not remembering what I said," Bruce answered her.
“What's up, kids?” Jake asked. He was 20 years younger than Bruce, but he always felt like the wise father figure when Bruce and Suzi got into it. The role amused him.
“I won!” Suzi said, holding out a handful of chips. “I put my $25 in the machine and on the last one I won $150. Bruce put his $25 in another machine and he didn't win squat! Now he wants some of my money! Can you believe that?”
What Bruce couldn't believe was how she had misrepresented the plan. He had thought of the whole $50 as being shared money. At least, he had thought of it that way after she won and he didn't. He actually hadn't thought it out all that much before they went into the casino. He just naturally figured, due to his greater experience, that he would win and Suzi would lose. He would buy her a box of candy or some flowers with a little of the winnings and they would both be so very happy. Suzi had other plans. She turned her back on Bruce and spoke directly to the others at the table.
“I'm going to look at strollers when we get into Oregon. There isn't any sales tax there so my $150 will go farther. Then, I might get something that will fit me when I get big. Then I'll--”
“Can you believe her?” Bruce said, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation.
What Bruce hadn't seen was the twinkle in Suzi's eye when she had turned away from him. Jake was the first one who tumbled to the fact that Suzi was yanking Bruce's chain big time. She hadn't wanted to go into the casino, but when it worked out in the way that it did, she was thrilled. She had no intention of keeping the booty for herself, though. She knew that Bruce would be all for looking for something for the baby. She just needed to dangle him over the side a little bit first.
Jake thought it would be fun to turn the needle a little. “Sounds like possession really is 90% of the law this time buddy," he said to the seething keyboardist. “Better luck next time at the slots. If there is a next time.”
Diane looked up from her dessert in time to join in on the fun. She wiped her lips with a cocktail napkin and said, “Can I help you shop for maternity clothes, Suzi? We'll go to Nordstrom and The Bon. You can take me to lunch at Nordies with some of the money too. You can afford it.”
“Aaaarggghhh!” Bruce said. “I need a cheeseburger. Maybe after she finishes spending my money, Diane can tell me what's in the cup. That looks really good.”
The general good feeling at the table continued for the rest of the evening. Janelle had the good sense to stay quiet, since the last thing that she wanted was to antagonize anyone. She knew that she had Brandee to herself in the Sprinter for at least the next couple of days.
She did her best to follow the conversation at the table. It didn't take her long to feel that she had the members of the traveling party slotted. Janelle had two things going for her, in that regard:
First, she was genuinely quite perceptive. She could read an expression or a gesture fairly accurately. A slight eye roll or turned up lip could readily tell her what was going on in someone's mind.
Second, she had the assurance (that comes with youth) that she was better at reading people than she was. Janelle would arrive at a snap judgment based on not much, and label that person for good. It was enough for her to be right most of the time. By and large, in her mind anyway, if she judged someone unfairly it didn't much matter. Most people weren't worth the time anyway. Armed with all of that, she set out to understand the group.
She had Jake pegged as pretty much a doofus. She didn't respect him at all. He sat there at the table talking to the others like everything was fine. Didn't he know that he had hurt the best woman in the world? Didn't he know that he was married to a treasure that shouldn't be tied down to a family? That was for normal people. Not for someone like Brandee.
Janelle kind of liked Bruce. He seemed somehow uncomplicated to her. He seemed to be all about playing music and eating! She was pretty sure that he wasn't that smart about anything else. He was too old and tired to keep up, she guessed.
She was wary of Suzi, and felt like the guitarist was watching her. She wished that Suzi would go away and watch her stomach grow. The whole baby thing kind of gave Janelle the creeps anyway.
The one that she REALLY couldn't figure out was Diane. The oldest member of the group didn't have much to say. What she did offer up hadn't been anti-Janelle, at least as far as Janelle could tell. There she sat, eating her Dot Float, with a slight smile on her face. There was something behind her eyes, though. It was something that Janelle, try as she might, couldn't read. She wasn't suspicious like Suzi or a big dummy like Bruce. Janelle didn't dislike her out of hand like she did Jake. Diane had an inscrutable quality about her that was a mystery to the young newcomer. Janelle shook her head a little to clear her mind.
After the group had consumed their cheeseburgers and Dot floats, they were ready to go across the breezeway that connected the casino to the hotel. Luckily, there had been room at the hotel for Janelle to get a room, since there was nowhere else in town for her to stay. Brandee gave Janelle a quick hug before taking a left at the registration desk. The Evanses were in a room right next to Diane's in the west wing of the hotel. Suzi and Bruce were lodged in the east wing, four doors from Janelle, who was in the last room on the first floor.
Jake and Brandee undressed and prepared for bed. Brandee asked Jake what the people in the Nissan had talked about on the way to Jackpot. He told her a little bit about the banter that had gone on in the van. He didn't ask her what she and Janelle had discussed in the Sprinter. He didn't want to hear that Brandee had talked about him to Janelle. He didn't want her to lie either, so he decided it was best to just avoid the subject altogether. After a perfunctory kiss on the lips, Jake and Brandee turned off the light and went to sleep.
***
Brandee
was due on stage at the Winnemucca Convention Center at 7:00 the next night. As the Nissan flew through Elko westbound, Jake remembered the night that the group had performed in Elko on their way east. He remembered Brandee being distraught about how her voice hadn't been up to par. He smiled as he recalled her profane tirade that she unleashed after walking away from the cowboy poetry gathering. His girl certainly had fire! That was one of the reasons he had fallen in love with her. Just before dozing off in the van, Jake hoped that Winnemucca's Convention Center would be more conducive to Brandee's voice.
Winnemucca is in Humboldt County, Nevada. Brandee and I were married in Humboldt County, California. That has to be a good omen.
It wasn't. “A FUCKING RODEO? WHAT KIND OF BACK ASS PLACE IS THIS?” Brandee stormed around the stage when the group reunited in Winnemucca that afternoon.
“I CAN'T DO A GOOD SHOW IN A FUCKING RODEO ARENA! DO YOU HEAR ME?”
To say the venue manager was taken aback by Brandee would be an understatement. His shiny balding pate glistened with sweat as he tried to mollify the singer.
“I understand, ma'am. I know we told you that the floor would be put back in place after the rodeo ended yesterday. We weren't able to get the arena floor completely cleaned after the bull riding competition until this morning, though. So we couldn't get the floor down in time for your show. I'm sure that the people who come will--”
Brandee turned her back on him. Jake looked at him with compassion, even though he was none too happy himself. At 4308 feet above sea level, Winnemucca was just a slight step below Elko's 5008 feet. Brandee had struggled singing outside in the high desert air. Now she was inside, but the main seating floor was going to be dirt. The relatively low ceiling of the convention center didn't allow for much ventilation. As the crowd filed in, thousands of shoes were going to be raising tons of dust into the air. It wasn't going to be pretty.
The venue manager did his best by Brandee. He had the mandarin oranges chilling in the dressing room. He offered to bring every bottle of Evian water in Humboldt County and ice it down for the group. He offered to put a freezer full of Popsicles on the edge of the stage for Brandee to refresh herself with during an intermission that Brandee could insert into the show anywhere that she wanted to put it. None of what he offered was good enough.
“I want the floor put down before I go on! I don't want you to let a single person in here until you get that floor down! I don't care if I don't go on until 10:00!”
The manager shook his head woefully. Usually, his job was fun, but he had never been confronted by a raging blonde.
“I'm so sorry, ma'am. The floor isn't in just one or two pieces. We can get the floor down in about 12 hours if we put a five man crew on it. It's already 2:00 though. You wouldn't be going on until three or four in the morning. Nobody is going to come out at that time of night.
“Put a ten man crew on it and get it done in 6 hours. I'll go on at 9:00," Brandee retorted.
The manager had never felt more miserable. He didn't have any answers that would please the avatar of anger that stood before him with her fists on her hips.
“Do you want to just be let out of your contract for the night?”
This was unprecedented in the manager's time on the job. There would be hell to pay from the board of directors for the convention center, not to mention the county commissioners who counted on the income from the shows to balance the county books. He didn't know what else to do, though.
Brandee stepped back and looked around. “That just may be what--”
Jake stepped up beside his wife. He put his arm around her and turned her gently to the right so that what he said would be out of earshot of the venue manager.
“What do you want to do? Shall we talk to the others about canceling tonight?”
Brandee looked at him. She had completely forgotten, in her rage, that the decision to cancel wouldn't be hers alone. Jake's words reminded her that she was part of a performance group and not a solo act. She nodded.
“Let's do that. I'm so mad I can't think straight!”
Jake called the other members of the group into a huddle to discuss their options. Janelle hovered at the perimeter of the group, listening intently to what was being said.
“Here's the deal," Jake started. “You all heard what the man said. There isn't going to be a floor where the people sit tonight. This stage is in the middle of the rodeo grounds. Everyone will be sitting on folding chairs on the arena floor.”
Bruce looked around at the arena. He had an idea, but he didn't know if it would work.
“Could we have the stage moved? If we move it closer to the grandstands the people won't be sitting on folding chairs. They won't have their feet in the dust either.”
Jake looked at Brandee. She shrugged her shoulders, and looked over her shoulder to see where the mousy little man (as she had dubbed him in her mind) was. She found him and motioned to him with a crook of her finger that she wanted him to join the conversational huddle.
Bruce quickly explained what he had in mind. The stage itself was huge. It was much larger than what they had played on in Jackpot. Could it, he asked, be moved and, if it could, would that mess up the seating and ticket situation?
The manager calculated as quickly as he could. “If I can get a couple of tractors in here in the next hour, we can get the stage moved. The tickets are festival seating so it won't matter. We can just open Gates 1 and 2, rather than 1, 2, and 3. That will funnel everybody in the right direction.
Jake looked at Suzi and Diane. “How are you guys with this?” he asked.
“I'm fine, how about you, Sooze?” Diane said.
“I can play wherever. I can play in a closet. Can you sing if we change it like Bruce is talking about?” she said, directing her question to Brandee.
Brandee tapped her foot. She hadn't entirely gotten over what she saw as a betrayal by the Winnemucca convention authority. She was backing away, though, from the idea of canceling the show. She didn't want to disappoint the people who had paid good money to come hear her sing.
“Okay. If they'll move the stage, let's play.”
Diane had another idea. She spoke up for the first time since the group had found out about the snafu.
“How about if we make it an easy night on Brandee? We could do a different kind of show. She can sing six to eight songs, maybe the slower ballads and such. Suzi can do all of the solos that she's worked on so far. Bruce won't be bothered by the dust. He can wail on his machine as much as he wants. He and I can do some of the stuff together that we've been working out. With a 10 minute intermission so Brandee can wet her whistle, we'll still be on stage for almost an hour and a half.