As You Were (24 page)

29

MACY WAS PLEASED WITH TRU’S BACKUP BAND, along with Tru’s selection of Helki as bassist. Tru had been pretty sure of that after their first gig. She was more sure of it now, after sound check. They were solid and as near flawless as any musician can be.

Musicians usually had nicknames for themselves, Tru noticed. The drummer, Randy “Rocko” Johnson, was in his mid-thirties and had played on the road with several well-known bands. He was bald and muscle-bound, and went barefoot when he played, always wearing tank tops and shorts. His smile covered half his face, and was visible, even around the straw he always had in his mouth. The energy of his beat kept Tru moving, her rhythm guitar solid.

Michael “MadCap” Madison got his name from the plethora of multicolored ball caps he wore onstage. No one knew what his hair really looked like. As lead guitarist, he seemed to feel every nuance in Tru’s music. He always played a custom-made Les Paul, and the rich tones he invoked from it, made Tru feel undergirded by a trusted, musical footing. He had tired of the music he had been playing, and craved a change. When Macy had played Tru’s demo CD for him, he clapped his hands together and said, “When do we rehearse?”

Helki didn’t need a nickname. Her name was cool enough all by itself. Tru had for a long time felt a unique dependence on her that may have had something to do with gender, but Tru hoped she wasn’t that much of a cliché. Helki had a different kind of energy that made Tru feel safe. It wasn’t the way she danced about the stage with her bass as more appendage than instrument, but that Helki made eye contact a lot, and winked at Tru whenever she nailed a

particularly impressive note. Helki’s humorous eye-signals about certain girls in the audience was always a source of entertainment, as well. They had become best friends within a month of meeting. And before that, Tru hadn’t enjoyed a close friendship with someone in some time.

Now, in Denver, Macy offered a self-satisfied smile when Tru stepped off the stage after sound check. “So, what do you think?”

“Macy,” Tru huffed, out of breath from the last run-through. “We couldn’t have done any better. This group rocks.”

Macy handed her a bottle of water. “The show tomorrow night is going to kick ass.”

It wasn’t that she discovered a dislike for the way the living room was arranged, but more that it wasn’t the way it should be. Somehow, Brittany thought the couch would look better if both sections were facing the fireplace. The television stand and big screen TV was in the corner by the front door, so it could be viewed from the section of the sofa facing that direction, and one could still sit on the other section facing the fire. She was very pleased with her organizational skills when she had finished.

Brittany used a starter-log to get a fire going. She had watched Tru light many fires from scratch, but had never appreciated the skill involved in such a seemingly simple task. Soon, Brittany had built a roaring fire for herself, and a once-again-pouting Dropsi.

Satisfied, she picked up Rubyfruit Jungle and continued to read. She thought of how the main character never apologized for who she was, and lived life with total abandon. Brittany would have liked to feel that way, and found herself sucked in by the humor and the heartache of the character’s life.

The Soiled Dove was located in Denver’s Lower downtown area, affectionately known as “LoDo,” an intimate setting featuring some of the best local and national musical acts.

The show had gone smoothly, except for the one instance when an inebriated female fan tried to climb not only on stage, but on Tru. Helki was stealthy and graceful enough to place herself between the young fan and Tru, keeping her at bay with one foot, and didn’t miss a single note on bass while doing it. Tru thought she was going to lose it right there and just laugh through the rest of the song. Thankfully, Macy enlisted the help of a bouncer and the girl was removed, but not before she professed her undying love for Tru. The audience ate it up.

After the show, Tru hailed a taxi and rode the 10 minutes to Osage street where she would meet Macy at the Buckhorn Exchange. She was anxious to taste their buffalo steaks again. The restaurant had been around since 1893, and if you could get used to the 500 animal heads adorning the walls, it was well worth it. Among autographed photos of Fess Parker and Bill Clinton, one could also see John F. Kennedy’s fishing license, correspondence from Theodore Roosevelt, and the visage of a two-headed calf. Tru skipped the appetizer menu of Alligator tail, Rattlesnake and Rocky Mountain Oysters, and ordered club soda.

By the time she had settled in with her soda and began puffing on a newly juiced eCig, her cell phone rang and she snatched it up quickly, thinking it might be Brittany.

“Guess where I am?”
Helki was whispering.

Macy entered and joined her at the table, as she finished her abbreviated conversation with Helki.

“That was Helki. Guess where she is?”

“Where?”

“In her hotel room, waiting for this sweet young thang to come out of the bathroom and get back in bed.”

“So what else is new?”

“You remember the girl who rushed the stage tonight?”

“No way.”

“Yep. She bagged her.”

Macy shook her head with mirth. “God love her.”

Tru turned her attention back to the big question. “So, Mega-Manager, what did they say?” Macy began to bang her head lightly on the table in front of her, as Tru drummed her fingers and tried to be patient. Her set for the evening had included her best songs, and she was anxious to hear about the management’s reaction.

Macy lifted her head suddenly, her long brown hair falling loosely around her shoulders. “They love you!”

Tru heaved a sigh of relief. “Oh, it’s so good to be loved,” she said, watching Macy fish her own eCig out of her purse.

A waitress appeared at table-side expectantly, and Tru looked over at Macy. “So, what shall I order? Champagne, or beer?”

Macy grinned at the waitress. “A bottle of your best, please.”

The waitress faked stupidity. “Coors?”

Tru broke into laughter, and the waitress winked at them, saying, “Be right back.”

Macy inhaled deeply, held the vapor, then released a banana cloud as if the action were a breathing exercise. “They thought you had a very well-rounded set, and appealed to a large demographic.”

“Sweet.” Tru leaned back and took a deep breath.

“They especially liked
Fictional Hearts
,
I Got it Bad
, and
Say the Word
because they think there’s a big market for them here, and nationally.” She took another drag, and continued, the vapor coming out of her mouth with her words. “The audiences here seem to enjoy the soft, pretty songs as much as the upbeat ones. But he did mention that he had some studio connections and could get us some good prices. He thinks the band is great. He even knows Rocko from some gig he played here regularly with another group.”

Tru leaned back and pulled on her eCig, enjoying it in much the same way Macy had.

“Oh, and the manager wants to buy some eCig kits from you too. He thinks it’s quite stylish and he wants to quit tobacco.”

“Stellar.”

Macy smiled demurely. “This will open up a whole new series of venues. More money, you understand. We need to get you a website started in the next week or two. I’ve got someone I think who can do that for a good price. And a bus. Yeah. We’re going to need another bus. I wish we hadn’t had to sell the other one.” Macy laughed at Tru’s countenance. “God, you look like you just had sex.”

Tru made a raspberry sound with her mouth. “It’s the best afterglow I’ve had in a long time.”

Macy leaned up, her elbows on the table. “How’s that afterglow situation going, by the way?”

Tru’s face changed. “Oh, Macy—I don’t know. I’m beginning to think she’ll never get her memory back. Things were tense before I left, though, and I don’t know if things are better or worse.”

“Do you two always fight before you leave for an out of town gig?”

Tru didn’t miss the irony. “Apparently. It must be some kind of trigger.” She sucked on the eCig again, thinking about how she no longer had to worry about where she was, and whether it was okay to get her hit of nicotine.

The waitress brought the champagne, and Tru ordered a buffalo steak, and Macy, the broiled quail served in a prickly pear with apricot glaze. Tru poured them both some foam. “I am so hungry.”

“Well, you worked up an appetite tonight.”

Suddenly, Tru heard herself say, “It came out about that night when I found them together.”

Macy took a moment to absorb what she meant. “Oh, God.”

“Yeah. Travis came by while I was outside in the barn and it seems that he told her that I had been messing around in a hotel shower with Liz, instead of the truth: that I came home and found her in the shower with Travis.”

Macy gasped. “That boy. I swear, if he weren’t my own flesh and blood, I’d kill him.”

“I’m sure someone will do that sooner or later, if he keeps this up. I’m just not willing to go to prison for that momentary thrill. She sucked some foam from the goblet into her mouth, and Macy shook her head and stared at a bear head on the wall across the restaurant.

“I’m sure he was adopted...” Macy squirted ketchup into the ashtray. It had been her smoking ritual, before graduating to electronic cigarettes. She used to like the fizzle sound it made when she put her cigarette out in it. Since that was no longer an option with the fireless vapor-sticks. She did it only as a sort of ritual. One of several odd quirks that Tru found entertaining. She had baffled many a waitress and waiter when they found a blob of ketchup in the ashtray. Tru added her own touch, by placing one of her eCig sales card in the indentions on the rim of the ashtray, suspended over the thick red condiment, so that interested parties might call and order from her.

“How did you handle that, when you found him there?” Macy asked.

“Not very gracefully, I’m afraid. I tried to impale him with a nail gun.”

Macy gasped banana vapor. “Tru Morgan! Are you serious? He never said a word, of course.” Her imaginary manager hat went back on her head soon enough. “And that’s the kind of P.R. you can do without.”

“There’s a nice little eight-penny coat rack in the wall now, if you’d like to come see.”

“If it wasn’t your passion that sold CD’s, I’d smack you.” Macy shook her head, still amazed.

“Not because I tried to kill your brother?”

She made a derisive sound. “He’s like a little alien. I never really liked him much. When my mother and father brought him home from the hospital as a newborn, I told her she had to take him back.”

Tru chuckled. “Weird. Anyway, finally, I had to tell her the truth because she actually believed him. For the second time, apparently.”

“He simply cannot be my own flesh and blood. I mean, what the hell is his major malfunction?”

“He’s one of the lower demons, I guess. I have to admit, though, she seemed genuinely horrified that she had done something like that to me.” Tru sipped more champagne.

Macy took a pen from her purse and opened her Daytimer. “Have you remembered anything else about that night with Travis?”

Tru shifted in her seat and filled her cheeks with air, then blew it out. “My own moment of amnesia...Not really.”

She shook her head. “I’m always shocked by what he’s capable of.”

“I wish I could remember. Maybe I was so drunk, I let him do other things—”

Macy sat stunned, her eyes wide. “Tru Morgan allowing anything sexual with a man?! I’d eat my earrings before I’d believe that.”

Tru put her head in her hands, despondently. “I’ll have the waitress bring you a fork. Tru Morgan was passed-out-drunk.”

“Well, God, how many drinks did you have?”

“I’m not sure.”

“You’re not sure? Well how many do you recall before losing count?”

She thought about it. “I had that first one while you were there. Then he bought me another. And I vaguely remember starting a third...but don’t recall finishing it.”

“Two and half or three drinks, and you were passed out drunk? I didn’t know your system was that fragile.”

“Well, it’s not...I mean, it never has been...”

Macy frowned, shaking her head slowly. “Tru...no—it...it doesn’t sound right. You shouldn’t have been that incapacitated, and I know for a fact you’ve never ever wanted to go to bed with a man.”

“I know. I’m not sure what that’s about.” She thought about the relief she had felt when Macy told her Travis could not have actually had sex with her. “Macy, about that salt-peter thing...I know it eliminates one thing, but I really have no way of knowing if…I mean…he could have done other things.”

“God I hope not, Tru. Remind me to kill him later.”

Tru took an overly large drink of the champagne and choked on the bubbles. “I’ll let you borrow my nail gun.”

A while later, the waitress brought their eccentric cuisine, and the two of them dug in. For dessert, they shared a Dutch apple pie with cinnamon rum sauce and ice cream. Through a final bite of pie, Tru said, “I think I’ll give Brit a call and see how she’s getting along.”