Where Does My Heart Belong? (3 page)

CHAPTER
6

August
1968

We’ve got about 5 weeks
until the concert and things are coming along well.  Fifteen acts have booked
with us and that’s enough.  We want to keep it under 2 hours and this is doable
with a maximum of 5 minutes per act and stage set-ups.

Red and I work well
together.  We always seem to know what the other one is thinking and finish
each other’s sentences.  Just being around him makes my life feel complete.  I
never want to be away from him.  If he wasn’t my soul mate in another life then
he sure is in this one.  One day he whispered to me, “I remember” but the phone
rang and I didn’t get to ask him what he meant. 

Andy and Beth are still
carrying on.  Sharon has never figured out who Beth is but she has had enough
and is planning to divorce Andy.  Another couple with little kids is going to
be torn apart.  It makes me sick.  At least Red has enough respect for me and
his family not to try to take our relationship to another level.  I love his
little girls and Carol has become my friend.  I could never do anything that
would hurt them.

About two weeks before
the benefit my good friend and former vocal coach, Eileen, calls me from
Seattle to chitchat.   She says that she’s going on vacation and wants to come
and see me for a couple of days.  I tell her all about Lynn and the benefit concert. 
“Good Lord, Libby, plan on me being there for a week.  I would love to meet
this child and hear her sing. Give me the name of a good hotel so I can make a
reservation.”

“Don’t worry about a
hotel, you can stay with me, I have a spare bedroom.  With all of the acts that
are going to be in town, you probably won’t be able to get one anyways.  Just
let me know when you’re going to be here.  I can’t wait to see you. ”

“I’ll come on the Monday
before the concert, and tell Lynn and her family that I will do their hair and
make-up if they want me to.”  Besides being a vocal coach, Eileen is a fabulous
hair stylist.  The majority of her clients are women who play and sing
professionally.

“I’ll tell them and I’m
sure they’ll be thrilled.  Oh, wow, I can’t believe you’re really going to be
here.  Let’s talk again before you leave, I love you my friend.”

“I love you too, Libby,
and I’ll call you before I hit the road.”

I tell Carol about Eileen
and that she has offered to do all our hair and makeup.  “Praise the Lord,” she
says.  “I need a new look and I’m sick of doing it myself.”  She tells me that
she has chosen a short pink silk sheath with matching suede boots to wear.  I
know Eileen will make her look fabulous.  I’m going to wear a short fitted
sparkly dark green dress with white sparkly 3 inch heels, but God knows what
Eileen will be able to do with my mop.  Lynn will wear the navy blue sheath I
got for her and Tammy wants to wear jeans and cowboy boots but we’re working on
that.

On the day of the concert,
we are all nervous, but Eileen has taken us over calming us with her laid-back
way and professionalism.  She’s put light make-up, eye shadow, and lipstick on
the girls, leaving their hair natural.  But Carol is another story.  Eileen has
pulled her long thick black hair away from her face and done it up in an exotic
curly pony tail.  It cascades down her back like a waterfall.  She’s
gorgeous.   I do my own hair and make-up and after I’m done, we find our seats
in the front row about 6:45, fifteen minutes before the benefit stars.  I’ll be
sitting with Carol and the girls until it’s my turn on stage.  I’m going 12
^th
so I’ve got about an hour to enjoy the other acts. 

When my turn comes I belt
out Roy Orbison’s
In Dreams
, get a standing O and then stretch my right
arm out towards Lynn.  She shakes her head, no.  She wants to do the finale.

When it’s time for the
finale.  I go up on the stage and introduce her.

“About 6 weeks ago I met
a young lady with an incredible voice and I’ve asked her to sing a duet with me
tonight.  It’s her first time singing for an audience and you are all in for a
real treat.  Her name is Lynn Carlson.  Lynn, come on up here.”  One of the
event staff brings her on stage and I bend down to hug her.

“How old are you Lynn?”

“I’m 8.”

“And you’re going to sing
God Bless America?”

“Yes, but I’m a little
nervous,” she says.

“It’s going to be
wonderful, just like we practiced.”

I hand her a microphone
and signal to the band.  The music starts and we sing the first three lines together,
then I step back and let her have center stage.  Her voice soars, it’s
perfect.  After the first verse I take her hand and we walk across the stage
singing the first 3 lines together again.  When we reach the end of the stage
we turn and start back.  I let go of her hand and follow behind her, my
microphone down at my side.  She’s really into it; she doesn’t need me now. 
She finishes with the words ‘My Home Sweet Home’ in front of Carol and Tammy
and the crowd goes wild, they’re on their feet clapping and cheering.  Her
first standing O, but it sure won’t be her last. She’s ecstatic, grinning from
ear to ear.  She runs over and hugs me.

Tammy rushes onto the
stage and grabs her sister; they hold each other and jump up and down.  I see
Red coming from the wings and Carol is on her way up the stairs.  They hug and
kiss their daughter while I hug Tammy.  Then I go over and thank the band.  The
crowd is still cheering, chanting “more, more.”

Red goes to the
microphone and thanks the audience for coming, reminding them that we’ll be
here again tomorrow night. 

The following night is a
great success too.  After it’s all over, I find out that we raised more than
$8,000.00 for that little boy with leukemia and his parents.

CHAPTER
7

September
1968

A week after the concert
Carol calls and asks me to have lunch with her in the park.  She tells me she
is filing for divorce and moving to Seattle in 2 weeks.  She has family there
and she’ll be going to college.  I break down and cry. 

“It’s not your fault,”
she tells me.  “It has nothing to do with you.  Red and I have been over for a
long time, long before you met him.  I know you guys want to be together so
now’s your chance.”  I can’t believe what I’m hearing. 

“I still want us to be
friends,” she says.  “I’ll keep in touch and maybe you can come visit
sometime.  Red’s going to stay in the house until it’s sold and then we’ll
split the money.  This is what we both want.  Take care of him, he’s a good
man, but he can really get off track with his drinking sometimes.”  She hugs
me, tells me she loves me, and then gets in her car and leaves.

I am devastated.  I want
to see Red but I’m not going to hunt him down, I’ll wait until he calls me.  I
don’t have to wait long, he calls later that night, and he sounds like he’s
been drinking.

“Did she tell you?”

“Yes, and I’m
devastated.”

“Don’t be, we all knew
this was coming.  I told you that the first time we were together.  I want to
see you.  Can I come over?”

“No, I think we should
wait until she’s moved to Seattle.”

“I’m not staying at the
house right now.  The kids think I’m on a business trip so no one will be the
wiser.”

“Okay, but you can’t stay
all night.  I’m not doing that.”

“I’m not asking you to,
I’ll be there shortly.”

When he gets here I’m
crying.  He wraps his arms around me and pulls me down on the couch, cuddling
me and wiping the tears from my face.  He’s brought a bottle half full of
whiskey and I want it.  I take it from him, twist off the cap and take a
drink.  “Have one more,” he says.  “It will pick you up.”  So I do.  And I
start to feel better.

“What now?” I say.

“What now?  I want to be
with you, love you, take you out, bring you flowers, court you, show you off to
my friends, and never let you go.”

I’m crying again.  I want
that too.  He gets up, rummages through my cupboard for glasses, then mixes us
both another drink.  I can tell he’s had way too much to drink already.  He
sits down next to me on the couch and puts his arm around me, his other hand on
my cheek pulling me towards him.  He kisses me softly.  It’s our first real
kiss.  I’ve only kissed 2 other men in my life so I’m not very experienced and
I’m afraid he can tell.  He kisses me again and all of a sudden I do remember. 
I have kissed this man before, a long, long time ago in another life.

I ask him what he meant
that day when he said ‘I remember.’  He said he had some kind of flashback, a
memory.  He was awake and these images came into his head.  It was like
medieval times but he doesn’t know where or when.  He was kissing me and then
all of a sudden there was some kind of an explosion and we both died.  It’s
bugged him ever since.  I told him when he kissed me just then I remembered a
kiss like that from a long, long time ago.  He says, “I think Carol is right. Maybe
there is something to this reincarnation stuff.”

We sip our drinks and
cuddle on the couch and I can tell he’s getting sleepier and sleepier.  I don’t
want him to drive in this condition.  “Come on, you can stay here tonight but
please don’t try and have sex with me.”  He says he won’t.

We go into the bedroom
and he takes off all his clothes.  My God he’s naked. He crawls into bed and
before I can change into my nightgown, he is asleep and snoring.

The next morning I fix
him coffee, toast and scrambled eggs and send him on his way.  He looks majorly
hung over.

Two days later, he calls
and says, “I think I found an apartment, come, and look at it with me.”  So I
do.  It’s a 2 bedroom, 1 bath in a decent complex.  I tell him to take it;
they’re hard to come by.  He says I can move in anytime but I tell him it’s too
soon, I want the divorce to be final first.

When Carol is ready to
head out for Seattle, Red is going with her.  He’s going to drive a U-Haul with
all of her stuff and help get them set up.  He’ll be gone for a few days.

While he’s gone, I decide
to catch up with Beth.  She is distraught and beside herself.  Andy has quit
his job and is leaving to take training at the State Patrol academy.  I’ve
known about this but never told her.  He didn’t ask her to come with him so it
looks like the end for them.  I hold her while she cries and tell her to forget
about him, find someone else to make her life with but she says there will
never be anyone but Andy for her.

When Red gets back, I
help him pack up his things and move to the new apartment.  He doesn’t want to
stay in the house until it sells.   “I want to take you out to dinner tonight,”
he says.  “I found a new restaurant that I want to try.  Go on home and change
and I’ll pick you up at 6:00.”

The restaurant is lovely
and so is the food.  Once a week they serve seafood that has been flown in
fresh and tonight is the night so I have a seafood platter and Red has a steak.

They have a piano man
playing soft music and Red asks me to dance.  We are both lousy dancers.  I
guess that’s because we’re both musicians and always on the bandstand and never
the dance floor.  But we manage.

“Let’s go out again
Saturday night,” he says.  “Dress up like a hippie, and we’ll go to Mountain
View Lodge and hang out with the other half.”

Cool, I’ve always wanted
to be a hippie.

CHAPTER
8

When Red comes to pick me
up on Saturday night he’s dressed in faded Levis with one knee torn out, a Hard
Rock Café T-shirt, beaded necklace, an earring and cowboy boots.  He hasn’t put
gel on his curly hair so it poufs out like a small afro.  I’m wearing a long
denim skirt, a tight low cut red shirt that shows most of my boobs, feather
earrings, a headband and Birkenstocks with socks.

He stares at me.  “Do me
a favor, change that shirt.”

“Why, don’t you like the
view?”

“I love it but I don’t
want anyone else to.”  So I go to my bedroom and look for another shirt.

When I come back out he’s
rolling a joint.  Man, he’s really taking this hippie stuff seriously.  I don’t
like pot, I can’t stand the way it smells or tastes and have never even once
gotten a high from it.  Give me a drink of whiskey any day.

“Where did you get that
stuff?”

“My brother Bob grows it
in his basement.” 

A lot of the older houses
around here have dirt floors in their basements so people tin foil the walls,
put in grow lights and plant their own.  Their electric bills must be
atrocious.

“Well, smoke that demon
and then we can go.  I’ll drive.”

“Don’t you want some?”

“I don’t care for it.”
But I take a drag off it anyway.

On the 30 mile drive to
the lodge he entertains me with stories from his youth.  He paid $5.00 for his
first guitar and started playing when he was 6.  By the time he was 17 he was
playing in a dance band.  He’s always loved to hunt and fish and his lifelong
dream was to be a singer.  That went down the tube when he had to get married. 
His second choice was to be a professional bum.  That one could still be in the
running and considering the way he’s dressed tonight at least he won’t have to
get a new wardrobe.

The lodge is jumping when
we get there.  We grab a drink in the bar and then go sit on the floor in the
TV room with the other hippies and watch the summer Olympics.  Everyone keeps
running outside to smoke dope and by 9:00 o’clock there are a lot of wasted
people.

“Let’s get out of here,
give me the keys,” he says.  I don’t want to but I hand them over.  It’s his
car and he’s only had two drinks. 

We pull out of the
parking lot and head down the road but instead of turning left at the crossroad
he turns right onto a dirt road.

“What are you doing,
where are you going?”

“Home, where do you
think?”

“This is the wrong way.” 

All of a sudden he yells
and slams on the brakes.  The car skids and slides to a stop.  We’re at the top
of a ravine, only few feet from going over the edge.  He puts his head on the
steering wheel and says, “Oh my God, I’m sorry.”

We sit there for a while
not saying anything.

“I could have killed us
both.”

“Yeah, we could have died
a second time together.  I’m glad we didn’t, we just found each other, no
telling how long it will take for the next incarnation.  Get out.  I’m going to
drive.  Help me get this thing turned around.”

I manage to get the car
back on the road and when we get back to the crossroad, I stop.  He’s still
shaking.  I put my arm around him and say, “Look, it’s okay, we’re alright, and
that’s what’s important.  Where do you want to sleep tonight?  Either you stay
with me or I’m coming to your place.  I don’t want you driving.”

“Let’s go to my place. 
The bed’s bigger.”

We stop by my apartment
so I can grab some things and then on to his place.  He’s got it fixed up
nice.  Carol’s interior decorating skills must have rubbed off on him.  She’s
left him with the couch, two chairs, two lamps and a king sized bed.  He’s
using apples boxes with towels draped over them for end tables and they look
kind of cute.

“I think I need a drink. 
Do you want a drink?”

“Yes.”

He fixes the drinks and
then turns on the stereo.  It’s my favorite musician, John Williams, the
classical guitarist.  We sit on the couch and sip our drinks, listening to the
music.  He’s got his arm around me and my head is on his shoulder.  After a
while he takes my glass from me and pulls me off the couch, “Come on,” and
leads me into the bedroom.

He pulls me against me
and kisses me for a long time, his thumb caressing the nipple on my left breast
and I feel my body respond.  “I want you,” we both say at the same time.  I let
him take off my shirt and skirt and stand there in my bra and panties.

“God, you’re beautiful. 
Go on, get in bed, I’ll be right back.”

I get in bed and all of a
sudden I’m scared, the passion is gone.  I’ve never had sex with a man before. 
When he comes back he’s wearing only his shorts.  He turns off the light and
gets in bed with me.  He reaches around me and unfastens my bra and takes it
off.  Then he’s kissing me and fondling my breasts.  I feel the passion return. 
But when he starts to remove his shorts, I get scared again and start to shake.

“Hey, hey, you’re
shaking, what’s wrong?”  I start to cry.

He cuddles me to him. 
“You’re a virgin, aren’t you?”

“No, not really, I’m an
almost virgin.  I was raped once but I don’t remember it, I was unconscious.
But I’ve never had sex with a man.”

“Oh, baby, I’m so
sorry.   We don’t have to do this.”

“But I want to, it’s got
to happen sometime and I want it to be with you.”

“Only if you’re sure and
if you want me to stop, I will.”

“I won’t want you to
stop.”

Much later that night,
I’m no longer an almost virgin.

The next morning we’re
sitting up in bed and he’s combing my hair with his fingers.  He touches the scar
on my head and says, “Do you want to tell me what happened?  Does the scar have
to do with the rape?” 

“Yes.  I’ve never told
this to anyone before, except for the doctors.  Please respect my confidence
and don’t tell anyone else.”

“I won’t, baby, I won’t,”
and then I tell him.

“I was 12 years old.  It
was a Sunday, my folks were going out with some friends for the day, and they
didn’t want me to go with them so they left me home alone.  I was asleep in bed
when an intruder broke in and ransacked the place.  I woke up when I heard the
noise and went to look.  There was this big guy who was carrying something like
a tire iron and he was smashing and rummaging through things.  When he saw me,
he went for me and fractured my skull with the tire iron.  Then he raped me and
left me for dead.  My folks came home 6 hours later and found me in a pool of
blood.  I was in the hospital for 3 months, unconscious for the first one. I
had to have brain surgery.  I have a metal plate in my skull to protect my
brain.  That’s why the scar and the indentation.  Brain surgery in those days
wasn’t as good as it is now.  I have to be x-rayed once a year to see if the
plate has moved.  They want to do a new reconstructive surgery but I haven’t
wanted to deal with it.”

 “Oh, baby, come here.” 
He cuddles me and kisses my face all over, holds me tight against him while I
cry.