This Could Have Been Our Song!: A coulda woulda shoulda ballad (2 page)

Hazel, deep, sweet, hazel eyes.
I quite remember them and the way they felt staring back at me.

“
Don’t worry, Noor. I’m sure she remembers that much… Or that little –  I’m not judging,” Axelle teasingly says. Great! Now they’re both ganging up me and on my birthday no less. “But really, honey, are you going to see him again?” Axelle asks again, but this time sarcastically.

“
I don’t know, Lelly, if I will see his
hazel
eyes again.” I pick up the bags by my side. I really need to get myself more friends. Hanging out with older sisters is really starting to get old – what do you know – just like me. “I can’t even get a day off with you two!” I protest. “Check the calendar – March twenty-eighth. It’s
my
freaking day! Bad sisters!” I just needed to let it out. “Now, can I open my presents?” I ask, all excited.

The rest of the day went pretty fast. After our traditional Mpobo-Riddell’s sister birthday brunch, I went home and back to bed, but alone this time. I needed the beauty rest and when I woke up twelve hours later, I was starving but finally well rested. I checked the phone, but had received no calls from Marcus – not that I was waiting for one. Really.

Now, with a cup of fresh, premium coffee in my hand, I
’m sitting on my balcony, witnessing the morning sunrise. My apartment faces south, so I can see the CN Tower; it’s really a beautiful sight. It’s unusually warm today for this time of the year, not April yet, but I haven’t worn my winter jacket for a couple of weeks now and traded my winter boots for my stilettos. There is no snow left in Toronto, just how I like it; the rest of the country is still fighting a few winter storms even though spring started a week ago.

I stare down at my bare legs. I
’m still wearing my nightgown and it doesn’t cover anything mid-thigh down. The rest of my body is kept warmed by my Hello Kitty blanket. The fresh air smells like rain. I love that smell; it reminds me of my childhood in England. I take a deep breath in. Closing my eyes, I can almost see Papa walking Noor and I to school in London.

“
Does the rain ever stop?” he would always say. Coming from a much warmer country, the Republic of Central Africa, he was always complaining about the cold and the constant rainy weather. I don’t think he would have enjoyed living in Toronto; he was always putting extra pieces of clothing on us in the morning before heading us to school. But Axel Mpobo loved London, come rain or shine. He loved it because that was where he met Mom and he loved it because it was where his three daughters were all born.

My birthdays always remind me that I haven
’t spent one with him since I was eight and I’m sure Noor and Axelle feel the same way during theirs. On that last birthday, Papa gave me Belinda, my guitar and most precious possession. Twenty-six and one day and I already have the blues. But one thing always makes me feel better – cooking. And right now my oven just beeped, meaning my almond croissants are ready. So, let’s eat those feeling away! I get them out of the oven to cool down and they look delicious. Nothing calms me more than baking madeleines, reducing a red wine and cherry sauce or whipping a butter almond frosting. I’m too hungry to wait any longer and take a croissant back with me outside.

On my way outside I grab my laptop to check my emails. It was my birthday after all. I received about a dozen emails and hundreds of Facebook wall messages Most of them are from my first Riddell cousins and the Mpobo ones; I can
’t wait to see those crazy, wonderful women at the wedding. I’ve got one from Greg McMullan, one of my closest and oldest friends. He’s touring right now so he couldn’t be here.

Lulu, Saeng-il chukahae
[1]
. Love Greg
.

He has this adorable habit of mixing Korean and English all the time, an exercise his parents used to make him and his si
ster do to develop both languages when they were children.

I write back,
gamsahabnida, bogo sip-eoss-eo
[2]
. Lulu.
I’ve picked the language up after ten years of friendship.

I then open a message sent to me at 1.00 a.m., according to my mailbox. It
’s from Lloyd Sarrow, one of my bosses from Noël-Sarrow Records; he’s granted me an extra couple of days off. A well-deserved second birthday’s gift as he calls it. He already gave me three VIP tickets to the exclusive Origin Lounge on Friday morning, which had included a table and a prepaid tab. I never got to use the perks from Noël-Sarrow Records until that evening, so it was very nice of him and it turned out to be perfect for my birthday celebration soirée.

Still no phone calls from Marcus I notice, and I
’m still not waiting for one. However, there is one from the famous Beesly Marsh. She’s inviting me to a birthday party? Patrick De Guerra’s party, on my birthday weekend? That’s a no. I have family duties anyway. I’ll call her back later. Still, I have to be smart about it; she chose me to write and produce Beesly & Matt’s second album. When Lloyd told me last month, I thought I burst out of happiness. After almost three years at Noël-Sarrow, I’m finally going to fly completely solo.

“
She liked your work and said she wanted more, a whole album more. And you know what they say – whatever Beesly wants, Beesly gets,” Lloyd announced to a very speechless me.

Right after the news I got to meet the famous twosome. Their first album, Perfect Matrimony, was released five years ago and went triple platinum. They became a household name, especia
lly because they have been married for more than six years. Beesly was as excited as I was about this. She instantly decided that I was her new soul sister.

“
Your song, ‘Head to Toe’, was my favorite song three years ago. You can ask Matt!” She told me, passing her fingers though her
fake
hair, smiling with her
fake
lips. Should I mention the
fake
tan? Beesly Marsh is a poster child for plastic surgery.

“
She loved it alright.” Matt added. “We used to listen to it at least a hundred times a day.” But then he took out his phone and started to dial. Very rude, but I guess when you’re a star you’re allowed to be a total British wanker. I knew the type; I’ve been dealing with it all my life – cute and arrogant, sexy and a real jerk.

“
Thank you. That song was dear to my heart and having Jonnie Lynch singing it was nothing but a pure honor,” It got me my job here with a very comfortable salary and let’s not forget, substantial royalties with which I bought my condo.

Matt smiled back at me and then said,
              “If you ladies would please excuse me…” and he left the studio,

but
not before planting a very big one on Beesly’s fake lips. They’re just so fake. Noor had a much more realistic job done.

“
Hey, did you get my messages? I’m in Toronto,” he added, talking to someone on the phone and closing the door behind him. Now alone with my new soul sister, we started to discuss themes, genres, solo and even duets with other singers’ ideas. Beesly might look like dark, blond Barbie but there is nothing fake about her voice, she has no problem hitting high notes, and Matt Marsh isn’t a novice either; his first solo album was a huge hit in the UK eight years ago. Forming Beesly & Matt just propelled him further in his career.

“
Are the stories true?” she asked me out of the blue. Her facial expression had completely changed; she became that serious, cool person.

“
I’m not sure. Which one?” I answered back.

“
The one about Lucita and her Belinda,” she said with a smile.

“
How do you know about that?”

“
I was a backup singer before I met Matt. I have my contacts,” she said then she leaned in and whispered, “The stories are good,” before bursting out laughing. “Does Belinda really have all those autographs on her?”

“
Yes. She’s almost eighteen year old and has been signed by almost all the musicians I’ve known,” I humbly said.

“
Lucita the teenage musician legend, but really one of the Riddell heiresses, occasional singer and amazing dancer. It is sure nice to finally meet you.”

“
It’s nice to meet you too, B, but please call me Luce. Only the G Band members call me Lucita. Best musicians in the world those guys. And we should get them for the album and the tour,” I said. It was a brilliant idea.

“
So… Did Alex Sanders really –” she started to inquire.

“
Yes, ‘I-was-born-to-be-free-and-you-to-be-with-me’ Alex is a sweetheart, but we’re only friends and nothing else,” I confessed. “Would you sign her?”

“
I just knew you would be my soul sister. I’ll sign Belinda,” she said giving me a hug.

Back to the present and I’m at my third croissant now; they’re just too good – fresh and buttery but not oily. Papa would have been proud. He was the chef in the family. I read Lloyd’s email again. I’m supposed to meet Lee Mickford, my now assistant producer and a master in sound-mixing editing, tomorrow. I better send him an email now and reschedule for Wednesday morning. After a whole week away from the office for a nice short Miami gateway with Noor, I’m now a bit behind schedule. Not that I’m complaining; I’m going to need all my strengths in the next coming months. As I type, I notice the paper bag from Marcus. What could it be? I open the bag and find a small box. Okay… This is a bit forward, especially from someone who hasn’t called yet. Just open the box Lucia… It’s a charm bracelet with small guitars pendants. That’s adorable. Did I mention Belinda last night? I don’t remember. He will call… Sucker!

With my new accessory nicely placed around my wrist, I go to my bedroom and get Belinda from my walk-in closet.
“This one’s for you, Papa. I miss every day,” I murmur, tearing up a little. I sit on the bed and start singing:

             
When I see my light, she’s shining.

             
Her smile, her laugh, she’s beaming.

             
Always wonder in her eyes, a lot of faithfulness I might add.

             
Once upon a star, my Lucia, I wish for you. Oh oh oh.

This was my Dad
’s song from me, “Lucia Upon a Star” by Accaba, his favorite band. I start playing my guitar and keep singing:

             
But she grew fearless and sometime Rebellious (yes she did).

             
Her mind always wandering always discovering (never ending).

             
Her voice always outspoken and her faith always unshaken.

             
Oh oh, once upon a star, my Lucia, I wish for you.

The mini guitar solo of that song has always been my favo
rite. I finish the song:

             
Today she’s mine (all mine). Today she’s mine.

              But tomorrow I don’t know.

              Her view of life has brought so much sorrow. Yeah yeah yeah.

              But she’s free to love (free to love).

              Free to laugh (free to laugh).

             
And I’m sure that once upon a star, my Lucia, I wish for you.

             
Yes, my Lucia, I wish for you…no-one else…but you.

“So what brought the great Marcus Grant here?”

Linda Hamilton asks me. She should really consider changing her name; Linda Hamilton has been taken since 1984. I
’ve been telling her the same old story for nearly a decade. But I stare back at the attractive red hair wondering the same thing. Why am I here? One of Beesly’s whims or maybe just Matt’s never-ending need of networking. 

“
Work.” I’m avoiding the question. “What else, Linda? Now, what brings
you
here? The last time I saw you you were shacking up with that Brazilian actor,Ãron or something.”

Linda grabs a drink from a waiter, finishes it and gives it back. Linda! Linda! Linda! What did you get yourself into now? She once was one of the most beautiful women I
’ve ever seen. Now she just looks like a skinny, angry, bitter woman, a shadow of her former self.

“
Please let Avery know that we will be ready for the cake in about fifteen minutes,” she tells the now-frightened waiter. “Well obviously it didn’t work out. Not that it’s any of your business. Ãron or now Patrick – at the end it’s all the same.” She blows her new love interest a kiss and gets another drink from another passing waiter. “I always end up getting screwed.” She gulps her second glass of champagne. “What’s your excuse?”

I take a deep breath before saying that silly name.
“The Second Coming, Beesly & Matt album. You know I would rather be in England during spring, but Matt called me to the rescue.”