Rock & Roll Girls

by CL Rowell

  He debated my words for a few minutes. Coming to a decision, he nodded, a broad grin stretching his lips wide, and took off toward the kitchen, yelling at the top of his lungs, “Grandma, grandma, guess what—we’re going to Aunt Lucy’s—and it won’t be the mean shot place, cuz Mommy promised—Grandma, grandma!”

  My mom walked through the door James had disappeared through moments before. “I guess that would be a definite no on coming to church with me tonight, huh?”

  “Was I supposed to go?”

  “You said you’d think about it.”

  I thought back. “The singles mingle?”

  “You say it like it’s a fate worse than death.”

  “Maybe it is. I tried love once. It didn’t work out—now, I just want to concentrate on raising my child, doing my best at my job, and helping you out as you get older.”

  “Callie, honey, you were barely eighteen, and it was one night. That hardly qualifies as love. You only just turned twenty-three. No one expects you to spend the rest of your life alone, simply because of one bad experience—“

  “Except it wasn’t bad, Mom. It was wonderful, and earth shattering, and it gave me my son.” I scooped him up and buried my nose in his baby soft curls. “I’d go back and do it all over again, even if I knew how things would turn out. I don’t regret a single second.” I hugged her close with my free arm. “Go have fun with your church group. I’m sure all of you will have a blast, matchmaking with all the singles who are there because they’re looking for love.”

  Five minutes later, I pulled into a driveway that was even more familiar than my own. It was just around the block from my recently purchased home and my mother’s, which was conveniently located right next door to me. Unsurprised to find Lucy standing in the doorway, her cafe au lait complexion and cinnamon curls glowing in the golden shimmer of the setting sun, I waved.

  “What part of hurry did you take issue with?” she asked, blowing me a raspberry. “I’m going crazy, dying to show you what I discovered, and you come waltzing in two whole hours later.”

  “Maybe not two whole hours later.” I laughed at her. “Truth fudger.”

  “Mmm, fudge.” She closed her eyes. “That sounds so good, right now.”

  “Isn’t there a container in your freezer?”

  “Shut up! Don’t remind me—I’m trying so hard to forget it’s there until after my cousin’s wedding. Even a glimpse will add five pounds—a sniff, ten. And a bite?” She threw back her head and laughed maniacally.

  “Why are you so determined to lose weight for this wedding?”

  “Forgot already?” She reached out to take James from me, “That little hussy’s marrying my soulmate. I want to remind him of what he lost.”

  “Are you talking about Ray? Didn’t you dump him because he had anger issues?”

  “So? He was gonna come crawling back, eventually—begging for forgiveness, promising to change, realizing how wonderful I am and how lucky he was to have me.”

  “And how long would it last? How long until the next time he got mad over nothing—and ended up killing you instead of merely blacking your eye or putting you in the hospital?”

  “I know.” She dabbed the corners of her eyes with her sleeve. “You’re right. I’m looking back with rose colored glasses. Maybe I will have the damn fudge—the whole bowl. Come on—time to change the subject. Let me show you what I found. You’re not gonna believe it.”

  We stepped inside the small three-bedroom ranch style home where she’d grown up, and that her father’s mother left her in her will four years back. The first thing I noticed was a new Thomas the tank train set taking up part of the living room floor.

  “More toys?” I crossed my arms. “Really?”

  “It’s your fault. You made me his godmother—if his godmother can’t buy him toys, who can?”

  I laughed, shaking my head. “Lucy, godmother isn’t short for fairy godmother—you realize that, don’t you? You spoil him rotten. If he even looks at a toy sideways, you run out and buy it for him. What are you going to do when he’s sixteen, with his driver’s license, drooling over expensive sports cars? You gonna buy one for him, and pay the insurance on it, too? Cuz I’m not.”

  “Party pooper—look at him. He’s having a blast…and now we can sit down on the couch without interruptions. Come over here.” She woke her laptop and turned it toward me. “Sit. Read.”

  “Fine. What am I looking at?”

  “It’s a website that interviews hot new artists. I’ve had feelers out for a while, searching for any information on a Jessie Robertson, and—“

  “I didn’t ask you to do that.”

  “I know. I took it upon myself after I saw how hurt you were.”

  “You should have asked me, Lucy! I knew what I was getting into.”

  “Fine! Next time, I’ll ask permission first.” She sat there shaking, scowling, visibly upset. “But, since I already found something, are you gonna read the goddamn article, or am I gonna have to sit on your stomach and read it to you myself?”

  I reached out and grabbed her hand. “Lucy, I didn’t mean to hurt—“

  “I’m not hurt…I’m irritated—even annoyed, but not hurt. Are you going to read the damn thing or did I blow five hundred big ones for nothing?”

  My jaw hit the floor. “You paid someone five hundred—“

  “Yes. Yes—and it was worth it,” she interrupted me, “Or it will be, if you ever read the fu—“

  “Language!” I looked over at my little mimic as I lifted the computer into my lap.

  “Sorry.” I could feel her eyes on my face as I skimmed the interview, but she never interrupted even once, though she was vibrating with so much excitement as I got closer to the end, she made the whole couch tremble. After I sat up, she leaned in closer. “Well?”

  “Well, what? He’s single, by choice, because his heart was taken by an innocent girl in a small town, early in his career—doesn’t mean it was me.”

  “Well, what about this—“ She clicked on a different tab and read, “Who is the mysterious Callie in Louisiana, who stole Jessie’s heart, much to the irritation of thousands of willing women across our fine country? Ten thousand dollars to the first person who can give us the four one one on this mystery lady we’ve dubbed Jessie’s Girl.”

  I stared at her. “Did you—?”

  “Hell no, I didn’t sell you out, silly girl. What kind of person do you think I am?”

  I didn’t think you would, but…” I shrugged.

  “Doesn’t hurt to ask for reassurance.” She grinned. “Want to hear his first single?”

  “He has a single?” She nodded, and I shrugged, striving for a casual mien. “Sure. Why not—I know you’re probably dying to share it with me.”

  “Look at you—Miss Bitch, her royal highness, the Ice Queen, trying to act like you don’t care, and shit, when you know you dying to hear it.”

  “Language!”

  She covered her mouth with both hands, then whispered, “Sorry.” Placing her iPod in its dock on her Bose speaker, she hit play. Moments later, as the music and lyrics surrounded me, weaving their spell, I recognized the tune.

  I was floored. Flummoxed. “A-a-are you sure? I love this song. I’ve been listening on my radio, trying to catch a name and song title. How did you—?”

  “I have my sources.” Then she dropped another bomb on me. “He’s playing at The Blue Orchid in New Orleans, two weeks from tomorrow. I bought tickets, planning to go with you…but it’s looking like I’ll have to work that night.”

  5

  **

  The closer I got to New Orleans, the more the butterflies in my stomach fought to get free—and I was starting to think that if I couldn’t get them calmed down, they’d force their way out and take my lunch with them. Every exit seemed to taunt me—a tiny voice in my mind kept whispering one less chance to turn around beyond this point.

  Why had I agreed to do this? Oh, yeah…I flashed back to
my ill-fated trip to the music store in Natchitoches. All I’d wanted was to see his face, to hear his voice, to see if the years had dulled my memory even a little. I didn’t even have to flip through the racks of CDs to know—his unforgettable features stared out from a poster in the window, a bit older, a bit leaner, but still unmistakably him. As I approached the entrance, I glanced up, stumbled over my own feet, and deja vu slapped me upside the head. It was like the past five years hadn’t existed, and I was standing outside Bartholomew’s again—I promptly became pulled in by the pain in his mesmerizing green eyes and there was nothing I wouldn’t do to see him again. Before I realized what I was saying, I’d agreed to let Mom babysit James for the night so I could drive down and attend the show…alone.

  I took deep breaths, as I exited the interstate where the soft-spoken GPS voice directed me to—breathing in through my nose and out through pursed and trembling lips, to avoid hyperventilating, even possibly passing out. I forced all of my focus and concentration onto the words telling me where to go, refusing to consider what awaited me at the end of my trip, after the last turn and the final you have arrived at your destination.

  Over the music I heard, “In four hundred feet, your destination will be on the right.” My breath caught in my throat. Then, “You have reached your destination.”

  I lifted my gaze and looked up. A sign caught my eye: Blue Orchid Inn and Suites. My mouth fell open as Lucy’s words echoed in my ears. The muscles in my shoulders, back, and neck relaxed, and I slumped against the headrest.

  “I booked you a room next door, at the Blue Orchid Inn, because I know there’s no way you’ll be able to force yourself to go to that concert without a little alcoholic lubrication—and I don’t want you driving under the influence or kicking yourself for chickening out before even entering the venue. At least, this way, you can sip a glass or two of wine before the show starts, maybe force a bite or two of food into your stomach, and have a place to run and hide if it’s too much for you to take.”

  How did I get so lucky, to score such an awesome friend? I blotted tears, found a spot to park and exited the car. After picking up my room key, I stepped into the elevator and pushed the button for my floor. As the doors swept closed I saw a familiar form stride away from the second elevator. My knees trembling, and my heart pounding like a kettle drum, I fell against the back wall. It was him! There wasn’t a doubt in my mind. His shoulders were bulkier, more muscular, as if he worked out, and his hair was a smidgen shorter—not quite brushing his shoulders—and streaked with lighter highlights, but I’d recognize him anywhere. Jessie was staying here—at my hotel…

  In the room, every security measure engaged, I pulled out my phone and called Lucy.

  “Oh, my god, he’s here!” My voice shook with suppressed emotions.

  “Of course he is, silly girl—he has a show tonight.”

  “No, I mean he’s here—at the hotel. I just saw him.”

  “OMG! Did he see you, too? Did your eyes meet across a crowded lobby?” she squealed.

  “Haha! No, he was walking away from the elevators as my door was closing.”

  “You didn’t even try to get his attention?” I heard her disapproval loud and clear through the speaker.

  “I froze. What if he doesn’t want to see me?”

  “You won’t know if you don’t have the balls to try, will you?”

  “You don’t understand.” I loathed the spineless whine in my voice…that wasn’t the real me—was it?

  “You’re right, I don’t understand. Instead of getting knocked up by an up and coming rock star, I got knocked around by a high school dropout with a prison record and a short fuse. How could I possibly understand?”

  “Lucy—“

  “No, shut up and listen for once.” I pulled the phone away and stared at it. She really sounded pissed, but…she never really got angry—not at me, anyway. As I pressed it back to my ear again, I caught her in mid-rant, “—was me, I’d do everything in my power to reach out and make contact—take that leap of faith and at least try. You only live once, and life is too fucking short to hesitate. You grab it by the short hairs and hang on for dear life, so that, at the end, when you’re staring the Reaper in the face, you can look back and say, I squeezed out every fucking drop, motherfucker, so let’s see what’s next.”

  “Wow, I—“ I collapsed onto the bed, “I’ll try.”

  “Try isn’t good enough. You have to succeed.”

  “Fine, I’ll try until I succeed.”

  “That’s my girl. Exactly the words I wanted to hear.”

  “Psycho.”

  Her laughter poured out into my ear, lifting my spirits. “You say it like it’s a bad thing. Go get ready. The show starts soon.”

  I opened my mouth to respond, but the utter silence on the other end tipped me off before I wasted my breath—she’d already hung up. Jittery again, I called room service and requested a bottle of wine. A couple glasses of wine and a bubble bath later, and I was ready to take on the world.

  6

  **

  I handed over my ticket at the door, after giving Lucy’s to a pretty little rainbow haired girl with mascara smeared eyes, wet cheeks, and a cherry red nose I’d literally bumped into on the sidewalk out front. Right on my heels, she did the same—my new, loud bestie for the evening.

  “Oh my god, oh my god, thank you sooo much! You’re an angel in disguise—I drove all the way down here from Conway, Arkansas, because my brother swore you can find scalpers on every corner, at every concert, anywhere you go, selling tickets—but no one was! I didn’t know what to do. I mean—drive all this way just to turn around and drive right back home? I just wanted a hole to open up beneath my feet and swallow me whole. I am totally in your debt.”

  “It’s no problem. My friend had to cancel at the last minute. I know she’d have done the same thing.” I crossed my fingers and glanced at the ceiling, knowing I was probably going to be struck by lightning for lying.

  “Well, let me pay you something for them—I insist. And you can give the money to her if it makes you feel better. Third row seats aren’t cheap.”

  “I wouldn’t even know what they go for,” I protested, motioning for her to take the inside seat so I’d have a quick escape route. “She bought them as a surprise.”

  She gaped at me. “Color me neon green! I need a friend like her!” Then, grabbing my hand, she wrapped my fingers around a wad of folded bills, and squeezed. “Anyway, here’s eighty bucks—I’m sorry I can’t give you the fair value for the ticket, but I still have to rent a room for the night, and get back home. I only budgeted for a seat in the nose bleed section—this is like manna from heaven.”

  “Seriously, it’s no—“ The lights cycled, flashing a psychedelic rainbow of colors, and everyone around us chanted, drowning me out. My heart in my stomach, I stood with everyone else, stuffing the wad of money into my clutch bag as my eyes searching the darkened stage. The whole building shook with the shrieks of several hundred mouths all screaming Jessie. My ears were ringing and I was afraid I’d be deaf before the end of the night—then suddenly he appeared, lit by a single brilliant spotlight. The whole room went nuts, but I barely noticed.

  All I saw was Jessie. He was breathtaking. Every emotion I’d been denying ever since he disappeared without a single text or call washed over me like a tidal wave. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. I just stood there, frozen in place. I didn’t even realize everyone else had taken their seats until, like it was fated, the lights flashed on over the audience, lighting me up like a candle—our eyes met, I saw him mouth my name, and I panicked. Turning to flee, I stumbled over a chair leg and nearly face planted, caught my balance, and ran for the exit.

  “Wait!” Rainbow Girl yelled, dashing out the door behind me. “What’s wrong? Where are you going? Oh my god, you’re crying…what’s wrong? Talk to me.”

  “I-I-I can’t. I can’t be here. I have to go. Enjoy the concert.”

 
“What’s your name? Your number? I was hoping we could stay in touch after—“

  “Callie! Stop!” Looking through the doors behind her, I saw him flying up the aisle, shrugging off the grasping fingers of adoring fans. “Callie—“

  “I can’t—“ I shook my head. “Not now.”

  Understanding filling her eyes, she nodded, “Then go…I’ll stall him. Look me up on Facebook—Julie Ryan.”

  “I will.” The last thing I saw before I left was Rainbow Girl—Julie—turning to go back inside…deliberately stepping right in his path. I winced as she bounced off his chest, face first, but took full advantage of the opportunity she gave me. Dodging gawkers, I flew out the exit doors and ran. I didn’t stop or look back until I was on the hotel elevator and headed toward my floor.

  Safe at last, I slid down the wall until my butt touched the floor—and burst into a gasping, heaving flood of tears, complete with snot bubbling out of my nose and hiccupping sobs that wracked my whole body. Jessie…I banged my head against the wall, attempting to knock the memories back into their respective shadows before they drove me out of my mind.

  The doors opened on my floor and I crawled out, uncaring if anyone saw me. My heart ached, sending shards of agony through my entire body. I felt torn in half. My heart and soul wanted to run back until I was plastered against the stage, screaming out my love for him…but my head played the voice of reason, whispering of how he’d never called, never tried to find me. Robeline wasn’t that big—it wasn’t like I lived in Shreveport, or Lake Charles, or New Orleans, where I’d be a literal needle in a haystack. Robeline couldn’t even be considered a town. It was more of a village—a hole in the wall. Blink and you’d miss it. Everybody knows everybody and I’m the only Callie in the whole stinking place. Obviously, I was just a one night stand, a momentary blip on his radar.

  Using the door as a crutch, I dragged myself to my feet and staggered into the room. Wallowing in self-pity, I polished off the rest of the wine, curled up in the comforter, and cried myself to sleep.