Authors: Jessica Bell
String Bridge (37 page)
“When can I come and see you play at the pub?”
“I told you, when you’re eighteen and old enough to get in the pub at night,” I reply monotonously, due to repeating it for the millionth time.
“But you used to take me there when I was a kid.”
“That was different.”
Can’t I buy any more time?
“That was during the day. And there are different laws for after dark.”
“But you said that Grandma used to take you to her gigs when you were a kid.”
“I know, but she wasn’t supposed to.”
“Why not?”
“Because.”
“Because why?”
“Tessa. I said no. Full stop.” I sigh, dreading the feeling this might actually be the night I give in.
“Please.” She drops her knife and fork, folds her hands under her chin, and bats her eyelids.
“Okay, how about I make you a deal?”
I hope I don’t regret this.
“What kind of deal?” Tessa wriggles in her seat, a habit she hasn’t yet grown out of.
“When you turn thirteen, you can come along with Serena.”
That’s it. There’s no going back now.
“But that’s a whole month away,” she squeals, almost deafening me.
“A month will fly by, Hon.” I keep my cool.
“Why don’t you ever become famous, Mum?” she asks in a breezy, relaxed tone as if her previous outburst hadn’t even occurred.
“I can’t just snap my fingers and become famous, Tessa.”
“But Serena said you got offered a contract and you turned it down.”
What? How could she? She knows how impressionable Tessa is. Christ.
“Tessa, I don’t need to be famous. I have you and Alex and enough stuff to do at work. I don’t have the time.”
“But you wouldn’t have to work if you were famous.”
“Of course I would. I’d have to work harder, and I’d have to be away from you guys all the time. I don’t want that. I’m not interested.”
“Orh … well, I thought it would be cool to have a famous, Mum.” Tessa bats her eyelids. Again.
Who taught her that?
“Anyway, nice
mousaka
.”
“Really? Thanks.”
“That’s cool. I didn’t know you could cook stuff like this. You should do it more often.”
“Yeah, I know. It did turn out pretty cool, didn’t it?”
“Orh, Mum, stop trying to sound …
young
,” Tessa groans, flinging her head backward.
“What do you mean?”
“You keep saying cool.”
“That’s ’cause it is cool.”
Tessa rolls her eyes and shoves her mouth with too much food. Unable to chew it properly, she spits some out onto her plate.
“That’s disgusting!” Alex cries.
“Yes, it is,” I say. “Can you watch your manners, please?”
Tessa rolls her eyes again, picks up a small amount of food on her fork, makes a huge display of how much is on her fork, by presenting it to us like jewelry on a TV Shopping channel, delicately places it in her mouth and chews in slow motion with her eyes closed.
“Mu-um?”
“What, Alex?” I huff, dropping my cutlery in my plate.
“Was Jimi Hendrix Dad’s favorite musician?”
“No Pinhead!” Tessa barks. “You asked me that before and I said no!”
“Tessa, calm down.” I take a sip of wine. “Alex, Jimi Hendrix is Grandpa’s favorite musician. Dad’s favorite was Elvis Costello.”
“Orh. Well, can we listen to Elvis Costello then?”
“Honey, please, can you wait till
after
we’ve had dinner? Dinnertime is conversation time. You know that.” I touch Alex’s hand.
But he doesn’t give up. Alex gets out of his seat, runs down the corridor toward the music room.
“Where you going? What about dinner?”
I look at Tessa for answers. She shrugs.
“Why is he in such a mood?” I ask.
Tessa shrugs again.
Alex returns holding my guitar. He sits on the couch, with it on his knees, and slowly plucks the bottom string with his tongue sticking out of his mouth.
“Alex, what are you doing?” I smile. In shock, in awe, in admiration.
“Well,” Alex replies, “If you’re not gonna to let me
listen
to Dad’s music, I’m gonna have to make it myself, aren’t I?”
During sound check I only have to tune my guitar once now that it’s accustomed to my regular bashing. The sound engineer wishes me luck with her reassuring wink from behind the mixing desk. Sensitive about my lighting needs, she reminds the lighting guy not to use red. He nods, laughs and gives a thumbs up.
When the venue is full, I step back onto the stage, breathing freely; knowing that my engineer is going to make me sound like an angel despite still being a bit croaky from the flu. My footsteps vibrate through my body, as laughter turns to talking, talking turns to mumbling and mumbling turns to absolute silence.
I look down at my bare feet, making sure they’re inside the lucky circle I stuck to the stage with gaffer tape for security. I convinced myself that as long as I stand inside it, everything will work out the way it’s supposed to. I look up, and out into the small crowd of about two hundred. I spot Serena, Tessa, and Alex drinking lemon squash at a table closest to the stage. I wink at them before letting out a hot steady note that thrusts the crowd into whistles and applause. Each hair on my bare arms rise, one by one, as each succeeding note escapes me like a precious secret wrapped in their individual unique gift boxes.
I continue my all-original set, and each song receives a bigger applause than the last. Relief flushes through me like divine déjà vu, immersing me in a warm bath of velvety freedom.
I did it. I did it again and I’m alive.
“Thank you!” I say as I put my guitar down. “I’d just like to let you all know I’ve finally released that album I’ve been going on about for the last six months. It’ll be in stores next week and it’s called
On the Other Side.
Keep an eye out for it. Have a great evening everyone, and thanks again for coming.”
Amidst uniting applause and cheering and whistling and static amplifier fuzz, the background music begins to play. Serena gestures with her own unique sign language that she’s going to take the kids to the burger joint over the road. I nod and sign back that’ll I’ll be right behind them. But just as I’m stepping off the stage, guitar in hand and leads hanging around my neck, I spot Richard entering the pub. He waves and puts his hands in his pockets.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, resting my gear on the ground. “I’m just about to leave, Serena’s got the kids and they’re—”
He puts his fingers to my lips. “I just came here to tell you something,” he says with a cheeky grin on his face. “After having a very serious discussion with my daughter, and discovering that she would like it just as much as I, having grown to love Tessa and Alex like brother and sister, I have come to let you know that we would very much like to accept your offer.”
“Really?” I ask trying to compose the potent thrill buzzing through my limbs. “You’ve finally decided to move in with us?”
“Yes,” he says, pulling me in for a warm hug. “Let’s cross that bridge, shall we?”
Acknowledgments
First I’d like to thank my parents, Erika Bach and Demetri Vlass for being the most supporting and loving parents I could ever ask for. You have always been there for me through every choice I’ve made, and encouraged me to reach for my dreams no matter how unrealistic they seemed. And again, to my mother, for relinquishing one of her cherished songs, Famous, for me to rerecord and make my own for the book trailer. The song also helped me mold Melody into the character I had long been striving to create through numerous drafts of this book.
I’d also like to thank my partner, Spilios Tzemos, for supporting me through every single joyful and agonizing moment I went through to get this book published.
To my sister, Allison Bell, who read through, with speedy critical eyes, every single imperfect draft (and there were a lot!). This book would not be what it is today without you, Allison.
And to Dawn Ius, for being one of the most thoughtful, insightful and encouraging writing partners I could ask for. She kept my chin up during the rewriting of the very last draft and did wonders for boosting my self-esteem.
Of course, I can’t forget to thank George Priniotakis and Alex Bolpasis from Artracks Studios for their expertise and creativity in giving the novel’s soundtrack life.
I’d also like to thank this long list of people for their continuous support, encouragement and/or feedback on my very early drafts when I had no idea what I was doing: Angela Bandis, Angelique Geitenbeek, Anthony Bell, Caitlin Griffith, Danielle Whitman, Dione Davids, Eleni Yiannoulidou, Erika Stiles, Fleur Waters, Henri Richardson, Ivana Kohut, Jenny Heath, Karen Fisher, Katrina Cayzer, Leigh T. Moore, Margaret Bell, Matthew McNish, Nicole Ducleroir, Paula Berinstein, Rachel Finnie, Rachelle Koeppler, Sally Reiffel, Shannon McMahon, Susanne Lakin, Talli Roland and Vivian Clark.
ALSO BY JESSICA BELL
Novels
Poetry
Non-Fiction
Demonstrated Transitions from Telling to Showing
About the author
If Jessica Bell could choose only one creative mentor, she’d give the role to Euterpe, the Greek muse of music and lyrics. And not because she currently lives in Greece, either. The Australian-native author, poet and singer/songwriter/guitarist has her roots firmly planted in music, and admits inspiration often stems from lyrics she’s written. She is the Co-Publishing Editor of
Vine Leaves Literary Journal
, and co-hosts the
Homeric Writers’ Retreat & Workshop
on the Greek Isle of Ithaca, with Chuck Sambuchino of Writer’s Digest.
For more information about Jessica Bell, and to listen to the all-original soundtrack,
Melody Hill: On the Other Side
, which accompanies this novel, please visit:
Website:
http://www.jessicabellauthor.com
Retreat & workshop site:
http://www.hwrw.blogspot.com
Blog:
http://www.thealliterativeallomorph.blogspot.com
Vine Leaves Literary Journal:
http://www.vineleavesliteraryjournal.com
Facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/author.jessica.bell
Twitter:
http://www.twitter.com/MsBessieBell
