by Dana Piccoli
Nat let out an audible gasp as her heart nearly leapt out of her chest. “My schedule is pretty crazy this week, but I’ll text you later, okay?” Maddy kissed her gently on the cheek.
“Yeah, okay,” she responded breathlessly. She no longer cared about their audience as she leaned in and kissed Maddy softly on the lips, then walked her to the door. Maddy left, and once they could no longer hear her heels clicking on the wood floors, Nat allowed herself to melt into a puddle on the floor.
“Ho. Ly. Shit!” Jackie exclaimed.
“I feel like I just walked into an episode of The L Word,” Paul declared. “You know back when Shane was wearing those hideous leather shirts. That’s not a comment on your fashion choices. You were about to bang her!”
“Don’t say bang, Paul!” Nat shouted. Then she demurred. “I don’t know. Maybe. Seriously, don’t ever say bang again.”
Jackie plopped down in the comfy armchair she’d called dibs on since she joined the band. “That girl likes you, Nat. A lot.”
She ran her hands through her hair. “I really like her too.”
“Are we going to lesbian process now?” Paul asked as he tuned his drums. “I mean, I’m fine if that’s what’s happening. I just want to know if I should get us some hummus and pinot grigio.”
Jackie rolled her eyes as Nat sighed. “No, no processing today. Rain check. We really need to work on this setlist and maybe write a new goddamn song before Oliver kills me.”
“Okay, let’s bang it out,” Paul said with a smirk.
“Damn it, Paul!”
Chapter Sixteen
Nat stayed in the studio after Paul and Jackie packed up and left. Her fingers traveled up and down the keyboard as she hummed a melody to herself. She paused, picked up her pen and scribbled down some words that were floating around in her head.
I’ve seen the stars
I’ve choked on their dust
When you flew my way
I knew that I must…
Know your name. Know your name.
Thoughts of Maddy filled her head and she was in a space where she felt most comfortable as a writer. “Falling in love and falling apart are always the best times to write,” a fellow songwriter had once told her, and she knew this to be true. She wasn’t exactly on a tear, but it was something, and it felt better than all those months of stagnation. Maddy made her heart sing, and now her brain just needed to catch up and provide some lyrics. Just as she was about to head into a new verse, her phone sent a vibration through the piano. It was her mother.
“Hello, Querida!”
“Hi, Mom. How are you?”
“Oh, you know me. Busy, busy. Working on one of those big old homes in Buffalo now. The owner has done a real marvel with the house. I’ll have to send you pictures.”
“Sure, I’d love to see it. How’s Dad?”
“Your father is your father. Nose in a book. I think he’s starting to lose a little of his hearing.”
“I think that’s just called not listening, Mom.”
Her mother laughed. “You’re probably right. What am I thinking? The man has only been half listening to me since 1990. One time I told him I was going to run off with that Ryan Gosling, and he said, ‘I’ll take mine with cream.’”
“Sounds about right,” Nat chuckled.
“Enough about your father. How are you, meu bem?”
“I’m fine, you know. Rehearsing. Writing. Well, trying to write.”
“Have you found any inspiration? You were always like that. The muse has to come up and tap you on the head.”
She let out a small dry laugh. Her mother knew her well. “Well, let’s say there is definitely some musing happening.”
“Really? Oh, Natalia! What’s her name? Tell me all about her. Is she a musician?”
“Oh god no. No more musicians. She’s a pastry chef, actually. A really good one.”
“And her name?”
She sighed. “If I tell you, do you promise not to go around digging for the goods on her? You can be a bit of a bloodhound.”
Her mother clucked her tongue. “Me? I’m insulted.”
“You once found out what chair an ex-girlfriend was in middle school orchestra. You have your ways.”
“Well, it is true I am excellent at this, but I promise to keep it to a minimum,” her mother said, sounding genuine.
“Fine, her name is Maddy. Madeline LaDuke.” She instantly knew it was a mistake as she heard her mother’s fingers fly on her computer keyboard, followed by a hoot of excitement.
“Look at this beauty! A redhead no less. I don’t know what’s more gorgeous, her or her pastries.”
“Well, so much for that promise.”
“What? She’s on Instagram. It wasn’t exactly hard. Your mamma just wants to know if you are happy.”
“I think so. Yeah. I am. I like her a lot,” she said, her heart squeezing at the thought of Maddy.
“Well I am going to light a candle for you.”
“You don’t even go to church anymore, Mom.”
“I’m Brazilian and Catholic, I’m always welcome in God’s house to light a candle, even if my Catholicism has lapsed a bit. I miss you dearest. Come and visit me and your Dad soon, okay?”
“I will do my best, mãe.”
“And bring the chef.”
With that, her mother hung up and left Nat to stare at her notebook, plunking out notes and humming away.
Chapter Seventeen
The next morning Nat opened her eyes to find Eddie staring at her from the top of her pillow. She wiped at her eyes as he swatted at her messy ponytail. “Yeah dude, I get it. You’re hungry.”
Eddie simply chirped and sauntered down the hall toward the kitchen, his belly swaying from side to side.
Nat fumbled for her phone and saw two messages waiting for her. The first was from Maddy. Good morning, cute stuff. The simple sweetness of it made Nat smile ear to ear.
The second message was from Oliver. Call me as soon as you get up. And I mean as soon. Not after coffee and frozen waffles or whatever you have in that abyss of a fridge. This shit is time sensitive.
Her lip curled but she shook the sleep off and dialed his number.
“Rise and shine, Nat.” Oliver’s voice was particularly peppy this morning. That usually meant he wanted Nat to do something.
“And good day to you. What’s the emergency?”
“Got an email last night from QROK. They want you to fill in on Kelli K’s show for a guest who cancelled last minute. It’s at noon. Can you do it?”
While it sounded like a request, Nat knew it wasn’t really. She didn’t have much choice in the matter. Sometimes you had to schmooze and chat. It was part of the gig. “Kelli K. Sounds like…fun?”
“You haven’t been on her show before?” he asked.
He’d only been her manager for the last two years so anything before that was pretty much a clusterfuck of random appearances and shady promoters. For as much as he nagged her, she knew he was a damn good manager.
She scratched her head and stifled a yawn. “No, but I sort of know her through the queer nightlife scene, and her girlfriend is the bassist for The Fiery Ones.”
He laughed. “Man, that band sucks. How are they so popular?”
“Every town needs their pretentious scremo band, Oliver. Don’t hold it against them. They’re giving the people what they think they want.”
He cleared his throat. “True. Okay, back to business. Be at the QROK studio at eleven thirty. They won’t need you to play, just chat with Kelli. Call me afterward.”
“Capiche. Later.”
She laid back on the bed again. Her thoughts turned to Maddy’s text. She opened the message again and texted a reply. Good morning to you too. So, I guess I’m going to be on the radio today. QROK at noon.
Seconds later, she got a response.
That’s so cool! I’m going to put it on while the guys and I prep for tonight. Then I can brag about you. :)
She blushed at the thought of Maddy talking about her to the cooks and kitchen staff.
Now I’m blushing.
Perfect, exactly the response I was hoping for. Good luck today.
She closed her eyes and reveled in the reciprocity of her…whatever this was…with Maddy. No chasing. No awkward moments. It just felt amazing and so right. Just then she heard a distant scream coming from the kitchen. She sat up with a start.
“Coming, buddy!” She hurried down the hallway to scoop out a fishy peace offering to Eddie.
Chapter Eighteen
The air conditioning was blasting at the QROK studio while Nat sat in the waiting room for Kelli K. The décor was an attempt to be effortlessly hip, but as the daughter of a designer, she could see how desperately hard they were trying. Ripped leather couches that cost over five grand each and came pre-torn. Minimalist art that felt too small for the large black and white walls. A PBR vending machine. Oh, the humanity! QROK had once been one of New York’s greatest rock stations, but over time it was bought and sold and was now a shadow of its former self. Still, lots of great artists appeared on air to promote albums and tours.
Nat wasn’t above a little hustle. In fact, it was her hustle that got her song on Trauma University in the first place. Back before she had her apartment and sold out shows, she was trying to make it in the big city just like everyone else. A friend of a friend told her who the music producer would be for the new show, and she sussed out where the producer hung out, and Nat booked gigs on multiple nights there, hoping to catch her eye. Apparently, it worked. The hustle was hard but was often worth it.
“Nat Chambers! It’s wonderful to see you!” A woman resembling a hipsterfied version of Taylor Swift stood with bangled fists on her leather miniskirt.
She stood and held out her hand. “Great to see you again, Kelli.”
“Look at you, so formal. We’ve got to loosen you up before the show. Would you like a beer?” she asked, motioning to the PBR machine.
“Ah, no thanks. I’ll just have some water.”
She waved her hand, beckoning Nat to follow her. “Come. Let’s get you all set up and comfy in the studio, shall we?”
The studio itself was like every other studio out there, which Nat found comforting. Black foam adorned the walls to dampen the sound, microphones swung on metal arms, headsets that were usually beyond stretched out so that they wouldn’t pinch your ears.
Nat settled in and got suited up while Kelli flitted about, doing vocal exercises and head rolls.
“Thirty seconds, ladies,” the sound engineer said through the room mic. Kelli took her place and leaned in to Nat.
“We’re just going to chit chat about your tour, your upcoming album, all that fun stuff. Maybe a little gossip, too.”
Nat smiled uneasily. “Ah, gossip isn’t really my thing.”
Kelli gave her a wink. “Well, it’s my thing, darling.”
Before she could protest any further, she heard the engineer break in their headsets with the three-second countdown. Then theme music filled her ears and Kelli pounced on the mic. “Hey there New York, how the hell are you? It’s a beautiful day in the city. You can barely smell the garbage. That’s a miracle. Today we have a very special guest. Fans of Trauma University will know her as the singer/songwriter behind the show’s stellar theme song. She’s also hotter than the subway in August, if I do say so myself. I’m so pleased to have Nat Chambers in the studio. Hi Nat!”
She leaned in to her mic. “Hi Kelli, thanks for having me.”
“I can’t believe we managed to get you in town, Nat. It seems like you’re always touring these days.”
“Yeah, well it’s really important for indie musicians to put themselves out there and tour,” she answered honestly. “I mean, it’s tough to make a living off record sales since no one really buys records anymore. They stream.”
“Don’t I know it. Come on people! You love a song on the radio, support the album, right?” It was obvious that this was something important to Kelli as well, as most of her circle were working musicians.
Nat continued. “Don’t get me wrong. I totally get it. And while that’s a wonderful way to get your music out there, it doesn’t necessarily translate to something you can live on as an artist. You’re looking at maybe a hundred bucks per a hundred thousand plays.”
“Unreal.”
“So yes, touring is still super important, and I love getting to meet people who like listening to my music.”
“I’m pretty sure those are called fans, Nat.” Kelli raised her eyebrow.
She blushed. “I don’t really like to think of it that way. We’re all in this together. We all have skills, something to give to one another. That’s just what I do. I get the chance to ignite something in someone else. I don’t take that for granted.”
“Good looking and humble, too. It’s really too much, Nat.”
She laughed. “Okay, now you’re embarrassing me. But thank you.”
“So, since you are always on the road, what do you have planned next?”
“The band is hitting Philadelphia in a few weeks and then we’re off to Europe for a bit. Then the plan is to get back in the studio and record the new album.”
“Have you got all kinds of new goodies to share with your fans? I mean, your fellow humans?” Kelli rolled her eyes in a teasing way.
Lie. Lie, stupid. She had started a few things but she was far from having an album’s worth of material. “Uh, it’s coming along,” she said with a smile she hoped was convincing.
Kelli shifted in her seat and leaned closer to her mic. “Well, as much as I love talking about touring and new albums, I actually want to ask you about your last big tour with Melissa Hartford.”
It felt like the room suddenly became very warm, and she could feel pinpricks of sweat form on her forehead. This was the absolute last thing she wanted to talk about. “Ah yeah, the Nat Chambers Band has actually been touring since then. We have an amazing new addition, Jackie Adeyemi, who slays the cello, and of course, my right-hand man Paul Lim is still drumming away.”
“Of course! Jackie and Paul are wonderful. But the tour you did with Melissa was a big deal. I hear people still talk about it all the time. Ever plan on touring with her again?”
Was Kelli working for Melissa’s manager? How the hell could Nat answer this diplomatically? Her throat went dry and she took a quick swig from her water bottle.
“I’m really just focused on making music with Paul and Jackie right now,” she said. Good answer. Oliver would approve.
There was a flicker, however, in Kelli’s eyes, and Nat could feel the small studio closing in around her.
“So, rumor is you and Melissa had a little thing going on.”
Kelli’s words were like a bomb going off in her brain, sending any cohesive thoughts blasting in all directions and worst of all, Maddy would be listening to the show. They had never discussed Nat’s relationship with Melissa. This was not the way she wanted Maddy or the world to find out about her massive lapse in judgement.
She collected herself and attempted to do some damage control. “Melissa and I worked very well together on that tour and it was a very successful collaboration.” At this point, she was practically glaring at Kelli, but it didn’t seem to faze the host.
“Ah come on, that’s not what I asked you. Give our listeners a little hot gossip. Are the rumors true? Cuz sweetie, I saw you guys perform together and it was practically foreplay.”
She wondered if there was a way she could will herself to spontaneously combust to escape this torture. Kelli was purposely ignoring her body language and there were few ways out of this conversation that made anyone look good.
“Listen,” she said, as she squeezed the bridge of her nose. “I’ve never made any attempt to hide who I am. Everyone who knows me knows I’m queer. I’m proud of that. I’m over the moon that some gay kid in rural Iowa can listen to my songs and know that I’m singing about anothe
r woman, and if that makes them feel even a tiny bit less alone, then it’s all worth it. I will talk for days about how very gay I am, but I also want to keep my private life exactly that, private. Maybe one day that will change, but right here and right now, I’m not taking the bait, Kelli.” She gritted her teeth but said it all with a smile.
Kelli’s face told Nat she’d won this little battle. “Nat Chambers will be keeping us all in suspense then?”
“I guess so, Kelli.”
“Well thank you for being here Nat! It’s about time to switch things over to our commercial free block. Speaking of blocks, here’s the Nat Chambers Band with ‘Heart/Block’ to kick us off.” With that, Kelli pulled off her headphones and avoided eye contact.
Nat took her headset off and stood. “What the hell was that? You totally ambushed me.”
She sighed with exasperation. “Come on Nat! Everyone in Brooklyn knows that you and Melissa were screwing all through that tour. You may want to keep your private life private, but Melissa sure doesn’t. She confirmed it to me over drinks a few weeks back.”
Nat was speechless.
Kelli tilted her head to the side, in an almost sympathetic movement. “Listen, I’m sorry if it came as a shock. I do have a fanbase to appeal to and ratings to make. If it’s any consolation, Melissa is still really hung up on you.”
She pursed her lips and headed for the door. “You know, weirdly enough, it’s not at all. Good luck with your ratings.” With that, she pulled the door shut tightly behind her and stormed out of the station.
When she hit the street, she pulled out her phone and saw about a dozen frantic texts from Oliver. She dialed his number.
“Nat, I had no idea she was going to pull that shit on you.”
After being cooped up in that room, she could finally breathe. “I know, Ollie. You would have never let that happen. Turns out she’s friends with Melissa and I was easy pickings for some ratings.”
“Her studio manager is going to get an earful from me,” he said, his tough guy persona peeking through.
“Just forget it. It will just make things worse. I really want to put all that behind me, ok?”
