“So let me get this straight. We’re going to drive up, check in with you at four, hide away until you come knocking, then blow all the country folk right out of the water with some tunes.”
“Right.”
“When do I see my Dolly?”
“At the party,” I said. “She’s hosting.”
“And after?”
“You can catch up after.”
Johnny broke out into more laughter. “‘Catch up.’ Is that what you kids are calling it up there? Well, Gwen and I sure have some catching up to do.”
I was glad he couldn’t see me blush. This was the third time I had spoken with Johnny Skins, and I still couldn’t understand what Gwen saw in him. I knew from his television appearances that he was handsome and a talented singer, but surely manners had to count for something? I thought of Ray and his non-stop smile and how kind he had been. I wondered what he was doing right now, and if he was thinking of me.
“You still there, Reenie Starr?”
“Yes.”
“So everything’s A-OK then?”
“I think so.”
“We’ll roll up around four, then.”
“Sounds good. And Johnny, if you don’t mind, could you show up dressed like you’re about to spend the week fishing? I don’t want to draw any attention.”
“Are you afraid I’ll show up in my leather jacket and jeans?”
“It’s just that your performance is supposed to be a surprise, and if you show up looking like, well, you know …”
“Don’t worry, kiddo, I hear ya loud and clear. I’ll get myself a boring shirt and some old man sunglasses. See you tomorrow.”
I hung up and penciled three more fake names into the lodgings list, hoping no one would notice or ask me about it. In my head I ran over all of the things I had to do before Friday: make up the rooms, sneak in the band, grab them food, keep Gwen distracted and away from the lodge as much as possible, pick an outfit. I was exhausted and exhilarated at the same time. I felt like I could burst into tears or run all the way to Orillia. Surely a person couldn’t take any more excitement? When the phone rang again, I pounced on it.
“Good afternoon, Sandy Shores. This is Maureen Starr speaking.”
“Reenie?”
“Yes. Who is this?”
“I thought it was you, but you sound different on the phone, very professional. It’s Ray.”
My heart leapt to my throat. I had to swallow before I could answer. “Hi, Ray. How did you get this number?”
“It’s the Sandy Shores number. I was hoping you, or maybe Bo, would pick up. Otherwise I’d have to ask your dad to speak with you. Which I would do, by the way.”
I smiled, wondering if Ray could tell, if it was possible to hear a smile in someone’s voice.
“Right, of course. How are you?”
“Great! I’m just calling to check on our party situation. Is there anything you need me to do?”
“Just make sure people know about it, convince them it’s going to be a great party.”
“Sure, although the word is out and it sounds like people are excited. I’ve even heard a few crazy rumours.”
I swallowed. “Oh?”
“But that’s a good thing. It doesn’t matter if it turns out to be true, rumours get people interested. It’s going to be a great party, Reenie. It’s about time those boys got a real gig.”
“Thanks. I hope you’re right.”
“Are you bringing anyone?”
I held the receiver away from me, just in case Ray could hear how loudly my heart was thumping. “To the party? No. Why?”
“Good. I wanted to ask you to dance, but it would have been awkward if you were there with someone else.”
“No, no one. It’ll be just me.”
“Not anymore,” said Ray. “Now it’ll be you and me.”
I was wrong. A person can definitely be even more excited.
Johnny Skins
Luckily, Friday was a beautiful day — hot and sunny, with barely a trace of humidity. Everyone was at the beach or on the lake, making the most of their last full day at Sandy Shores. Daddy had gone fishing and wouldn’t be back until five at the earliest. I offered to staff the office while Mimi took a nap.
“What a dear,” she said. “I’m going to lie down. I can feel a headache coming on.”
I had never been so glad to see Mimi disappear up the stairs to her room. With a bit of luck she would be out for hours and wouldn’t hear me sneak Johnny and his band into the lodge. I couldn’t find Bo anywhere, which wasn’t a surprise, but I worried about him turning up out of nowhere just as Johnny’s car pulled in. Gwen was in the mess hall, practising for her debut solo performance.
“Tonight is the real deal,” she had told me at lunch. “No backup singers, no showy dance moves, just me, myself and I.”
It was odd to see her so nervous. She talked a lot and fidgeted with her hair, which had grown out and looked almost girlish curling over the nape of her neck. Without her red lips she looked five years younger. She didn’t look like she’d walked off the silver screen anymore, but somehow she looked prettier, more like the Gwendolyn I’d met years ago. Sandy Shores had worn off her sheen, and now I could look at her and see a real person, instead of the pin-up girl she pretended to be.
Hopefully she would be tied up practising until I could get Johnny and his band safely indoors.
My stomach clenched at the sight of every car that drove by. Maybe it was my imagination, but I felt like more cars than usual were passing by. Sandy Shores was located on a side road; it was not the kind of place people cruised past unless they were looking for it.
To make matters worse, the phone was ringing off the hook. People were calling up, asking about the party tonight: who was going to be there, how much did it cost, where could they park? I was as helpful as I could be, given my jangling nerves, reassuring people that it was bound to be a great night. But in my head, I was worrying about all the things that could go wrong. What if Johnny didn’t show up? What if we ran out of food? What if we didn’t have enough space? The what-ifs were eating me up from the inside out. My stomach was knotted so badly I couldn’t even look at food, let alone eat it.
Finally, forty-three minutes later than we had discussed, a big blue car nosed itself into the driveway, followed by an old van. I ran to the window to get a better look. Sure enough, there was a group of men packed into that boat of a vehicle. Now that they were here, a whole new set of what-ifs attacked. What if we’re seen? What if they make a mess of their rooms? What if they don’t like the sandwiches I made them? I tried to think like Daddy, the consummate businessman and host, and dashed out to meet them.
“Hello there!” I called, trying to catch my breath as the last one extracted himself from the car. Four young men stood awkwardly in the sunshine, dressed in jeans and T-shirts, their hair so full of Brylcreem that it shone. So much for them coming in disguise. Two of them opened the back of the van and started unloading equipment. A fifth young man, about the same age but wearing a jacket, came right up to me and offered his hand.
“Maureen Starr? I’m Bert Fontaine.”
So this was Bert. Bert didn’t look much older than the other guys — the band members, I guessed — but he was the only one who had shaved and put on something fancier than a T-shirt. His shirt had a starched collar and looked clean, which was more than I could say for the other guys. They looked like a group of moody old crows, in their black jeans and hunched shoulders, glowering into the sunshine. Only one of them looked pleased to be there. He came forward as I shook Bert’s hand.
“Lucky Miss Starr, we finally meet.” Johnny Skins was shorter than I expected, and much slimmer. In fact, he was the smallest member of the band. He was handsome, but he had a grin that meant trouble. There was nothing kind or genuine in it. Regardless, he was a guest and he was doing me a favour. I took his hand and shook it. Before I had a chance to pull back, Johnny dipped low and kissed my hand.
“I was right. You are as cute as a button.”
Bert cut in as I pulled my hand away. “Miss Starr, do you think you could show us to the boys’ lodgings? We’ve been in the car a long time and they need to rest up and eat something before the show.”
“Of course, right this way.”
I was only too happy to get them out of broad daylight and into the lodge. I offered to carry a bag or two, but Johnny laughed.
“What kind of gentleman lets a lady carry his load? Right, fellas?”
The other band members mumbled a reply. None of them had taken off their sunglasses. It was hard to read their expressions, let alone tell them apart. They hadn’t even bothered to introduce themselves to me. So far, I was unimpressed. Was this really the world Gwen and Bo so desperately wanted to be a part of?
“How about this sun?” Johnny said, lifting his arms and face to the sky. He took off his sunglasses and crowed, “Hallelujah!” at the top of his lungs.
I glanced across the road and saw that people were starting to gather up their beach things. As far as I could tell, no one had seen us. Sandy Shores was full of the sounds of kids shouting and playing, but the members of a rock and roll band wouldn’t go unnoticed for long. Dinner would be served in less than an hour and some guests would be making their way to the lodge. We had to get out of sight and fast.
* * *
“And here’s where you will be staying, compliments of Sandy Shores.”
I opened the door and ushered Johnny into his own private room, which was as far away from the dining hall and the mess hall as possible. I had already dropped off the other band members in their rooms across the way. They barely acknowledged me, just grunted their thanks. I had only made up four rooms, but Bert swore he didn’t mind sharing.
I watched as Johnny strode through the room, running a hand over surfaces and looking in drawers. He was making me nervous. What was he looking for, I wondered. I had never been in a city hotel, but I couldn’t imagine their rooms were any nicer than ours. I had spent all morning sprucing things up, changing the linens, dusting the furniture and stocking the rooms with bottles of Coca Cola and sandwiches I had made myself and wrapped in wax paper.
“You sure are a little professional, Lucky Starr,” said Johnny.
“Thank you,” I said, unsure of whether or not I was being complimented.
Johnny sat on the bed, kicked off his shoes, crossed his feet, and pulled a squashed cigarette pack out of his sleeve.
“There are sandwiches on the table there, and some pops. Can I get you anything else?” I asked.
“Pretty little place you got here,” Johnny said, ignoring my question. “I guess this is what they call quaint.”
“Thanks.”
“Bet you can’t wait to get out of here.”
“Not really.”
Johnny looked surprised. I didn’t mean to sound brusque, but he was getting on my nerves. I hated the way he lazed about, not a single grateful bone in his skinny body. I was trying to picture him with Gwen, but I couldn’t see them talking or dancing or getting along.
“You don’t want to head south, check out the big city? There is lots of opportunity for a pretty thing like you.” Johnny winked. “I bet you’re smart, too.”
Johnny lit a cigarette. I wrinkled my nose. Within seconds, the lovely lemon scent of the cleaning oil I’d used disappeared under the ashy, burning smell of the cigarette.
“Is there anything else I can do for you before I go?” I asked again.
“Yes. When do I see my Dolly?”
“After the concert,” I stalled. “She’s busy rehearsing now.”
“Planning to shake her stuff for the old fogies, is she?” Johnny flicked the end of his cigarette on the edge of the bedside table.
“There’s an ashtray in the drawer,” I said.
Johnny nodded but continue to tap his ashes on the table. A little pile of papery grey flakes smouldered against the wood. I felt about as steamed up as those ashes.
“No, she’s singing.”
Johnny gave a long, world-weary sigh. “Still chasing that old dream, is she?”
“You don’t think she’s a good singer?” I asked, surprised. Surely a boyfriend, or a good one, would stand behind his girlfriend and her dreams.
“Sure she is, but girl singers are a dime a dozen these days. That girl is an ace dancer. She should stick with what she’s good at. I don’t need a girl to sing backup. But a good-looking dancer?” Johnny grinned. “That I can always use.”
Something didn’t feel right. All of Gwen’s plans involved recording a demo and landing gigs. I couldn’t imagine she’d be happy hanging around in the background, dancing at Johnny’s shows, even if he was her boyfriend.
“She tours with you?” I asked.
“That’s the plan. It’s nice having your girl around. You got a boyfriend, Lucky Starr?”
“No.”
“Don’t worry. You will. And then you’ll know. You’ll want to be with him all the time. This summer has been hard on me. I miss having my Dolly around. You sure you can’t sneak her up here for one little second?”
“I’m sorry, but she’s rehearsing.”
Johnny snorted. “Who did she convince to sing with her? A couple of choir girls?”
“My brother is accompanying her on guitar.”
Johnny took a long drag on his cigarette, never taking his eyes off me. They were not friendly eyes, like Ray’s, which had seemed to dance in the firelight. Johnny’s eyes were cold and hard as stones. “Your brother?”
“Yes, Bo. He plays guitar in his own band, Wide Mouth Bass. They’re playing tonight, too. You’ll get to meet him. He’ll be thrilled.”
“What kind of a name is Bo?”
I bristled. “It’s short for Bogart.”
“This brother of yours, does he have a girl of his own?”
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “He never tells me anything.”
Johnny smiled. “Isn’t that just like an older brother? Well then, Lucky Starr, if you’re not going to bring me my Dolly—”
“I’m sorry, but she’s—”
“Rehearsing. Yes, I know. And I doubt you’re going to bring me a beer …”
I hesitated. “I really shouldn’t.”
Johnny shrugged. “No harm in asking. I’ll see you later tonight.”
“I’ll come get you when it’s time,” I promised.
“Don’t be too long,” Johnny said, making puppy dog eyes. “I get lonely real quick.”
“See you soon,” I said, closing the door firmly behind me. I shuddered — I wanted to get as far away from Johnny Skins as possible. Before, all I could think about was what I would do if Johnny didn’t show. Now, all I could think about was how soon he could leave.
Showtime
People started coming as early as seven o’clock. Daddy was in charge of directing traffic and showing people where they could park. I went over to the front lawn to see if he needed anything and also to remind him when things were starting. He was still wearing his fishing hat and his arms were red from too much sun.
Daddy shook his head in disbelief. “Would you look at all these cars!” he said.
“They’re coming to see Bo play,” I said. “Pretty impressive, huh?”
Daddy agreed. “You can say that again. It’s like Canada Day.”
“Bigger,” I pointed out. “Are you going to be able to see the show?”
Daddy busied himself with a couple of tough old dandelions that had escaped his wrath earlier in the summer. He didn’t look up at me when he answered.
“We’ll see, Reenie. I thought I might hang out here to watch over the cars. We don’t want any kids thinking they can sneak away and get into trouble when no one’s looking.”
“Okay,” I said lightly. I didn’t want to push him. Daddy wasn’t as thrilled about the concert as the rest of the Starrs. He stayed quiet when we discussed it at dinners. A little part of me felt bad about not
asking him in the first place, but he had put Mimi in charge of entertainment, and he seemed to be spending more time than ever on the lake this year. I’d hoped he would come see Bo, and maybe he’d realize how much music meant to him. But that wasn’t looking likely.
“You better get back there,” Daddy said. “It’s coming on close to eight o’clock.”
I rushed back to the mess hall. I felt like I had been rushing all day. I was all amped up, like someone had replaced my heart with a crank engine and the arm was spinning out of control. I didn’t have time to breathe, let alone eat. I told myself I could do all that tomorrow.
Outside the mess hall, Mimi had set up a card table and was taking admission. She was chatting with a few ladies as I arrived.
“A young man named Ray was looking for you,” she said, a twinkle in her eye. “A handsome young man, I might add.”
The other women exchanged glances, but I slipped into the mess hall before they could tease me. Looking down at my old shorts and the blouse I had been wearing all day, I regretted not leaving myself time to change into something nicer. The whole town had dressed up, and I looked like I had spent the day fishing. I tied up the ends of my blouse like Gwen had shown me and shook out my hair, smoothing all the loose strands back into a ponytail. That would have to do.
I knew the mess hall would be packed, but when I stepped inside, the sight of all those people took my breath away. I’d thought our Friday night dances were successful, but the most we’d ever had to one of those was thirty-six people. There looked to be five times that number in here now.
Someone had removed most of the chairs to make more room, leaving two rows along the back for the older guests who sat there, fanning themselves and holding cold bottles of pop to their foreheads to cool down. It was unbearably hot, but people seemed happy, standing around with their friends, chatting and dancing on the spot to our pre-show music. I looked to see if someone had shut the windows, but they were all open. Whatever breeze there was didn’t stand a chance against all those bodies.
I was anxious to get the show on the road. I searched the room for Gwen, but she was nowhere to be seen. Deciding she must be out back with the band, I took a determined breath and headed toward the back door by the stage. I excused myself as I squeezed past the guests, and kept an eye out for Ray.
Summer Days, Starry Nights Page 13
