Ivory

by Hadley Quinn

  All in all, I was not impressed. He paid Gretta the twenty bucks and I was ready to hightail it out of there, but she looked directly at me and said, “And how about you?”

  I shook my head. “Not my thing.”

  “Why not?”

  Shrugging, I didn’t feel like I needed to answer her.

  She stood from the chair and approached, never taking her eyes off of me. “Maybe you should give it a try.”

  I seriously did not like the way she was looking at me. Not one time did her eyes leave mine, but it didn’t even feel like it was ordinary eye contact. It seemed like she was looking through me.

  “Give it a try, man,” Hayes encouraged me. “Maybe she’ll do it for free.”

  I was about to joke about that, but Gretta said, “You’ve recently lost someone. More than one person,” she added, still staring through me. “Three? One was your daughter. A young one. Small.”

  “Whoa, man,” I heard Wes whisper. I’d almost forgotten he was with us because he’d been so quiet.

  I swallowed. I couldn’t help it. Having people in my business was bad enough, but to deal with it this way?

  Hell no.

  “Let’s go, guys,” I said, turning away.

  She grabbed my hand, and for some reason, I let her as she pressed her thumb firmly into my palm. “You don’t have to be afraid of me,” she said. “And no, I won’t charge you. I’ll do this for free.”

  “You can’t beat free,” Hayes chuckled.

  I wanted to beat his ass at that moment, but instead of letting this lady rattle me, I had to remind myself that she was a professional fraud. I didn’t know how she knew about my daughter, but she was pretty damn good at her choice of career.

  “Fine,” I relented, and I followed her to the table. She still had a hold of my hand as we sat down across from each other.

  Finally she stopped staring at me and was now studying my hand. She pretended to be tracing the lines in my palm, but I could tell she was turning it right and left to find something that revealed a part of my life. If she knew what the calloused fingers of a musician looked like, it’d be pretty easy.

  “You’ve made many people happy in your life,” she said, now staring at the table instead of my hand, like she was concentrating on reading me. “You’ve saved them through your words. Many people look up to you, admire you… You hold a very important status in the world.” She finally looked at me, like she was perplexed by that or trying to match my face with a name. “You should never give up,” she added.

  My leg started bouncing up and down under the table. It was a sure sign that I was uncomfortable at the moment and not just counting rhythm.

  “Your father looks over you,” she said.

  That captured my attention and I held my leg still.

  “Your…daughter, I’m sensing…she was daddy’s little girl—”

  I yanked my hand out of her grasp. I didn’t want some fucking con artist talking about my baby girl.

  Gretta held her hand out, encouraging me to give mine back, but I didn’t want to play along anymore.

  “Just one more minute,” she said, still with her hand waiting.

  Reluctantly, I gave it to her but I wasn’t sure why. Maybe because I felt like this stuff was bullshit and I wanted for her to say something wrong or too generic so I could laugh at her.

  It seriously took half a minute before she even said anything to me. I was ready to get up and walk away when she said, “Your future is with…ivory. I sense…ivory will be a huge part of your life.”

  Duh. She knew I was a fucking piano player. And I was beginning to think she actually knew who the fuck I was.

  I pulled my hand away again and stood. “You know pianos aren’t made with ivory anymore, right?” I smirked. Tossing a twenty on the table, I added, “Have a nice night.”

  Hey, she obviously needed to make a living somehow, so I didn’t mind dropping the cash for someone so desperate they had to prey on people’s heartache. But I left immediately with the guys trailing right behind.

  We walked in silence for a minute before Hayes said, “Hey, I’m sorry man. I just thought it would be for fun.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I wave him off.

  The rest of the night carried the same drab feel for me. The guys laughed and messed around until Wes dropped Luke and Hayes off at their own homes, and then the car ride back to our apartment was a silent one.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about that damn palm reader and I was pissed that she’d flustered me so much. The way she looked at me… Maybe I’d overlooked the fact that she had recognized me from the start, but it just seemed so…eerie. But most of my life had been public, even losing my wife and daughter and then my father, so I really couldn’t put much stock into what she’d “sensed.”

  And the piano… I chuckled bitterly to myself. Maybe she’d read that story on musicians and ivory keys a while back; how some insisted that ivory was the only way to play and how others refused because of where they came from.

  Possibly she knew about my father’s piano and the big fiasco about that. Fans knew it was a very old piano because they’d seen photos, and many activists and protestors were quick to jump on the attack against animal cruelty because they didn’t know their piano facts.

  Hello, idiots. Ivory keys were banned years ago, do your research. And seriously, did my grandmother go out and slaughter an elephant just so she could have a piano with ivory keys? Back then it wasn’t well known what was going on with so much poaching and such, but these days there were groups ready and willing to rip apart any public figure that displayed something that wasn’t “earth friendly” or conducive to rights and equality.

  Don’t think I’m being cynical—I very much believe in protecting the environment and being fair to everyone and everything—but when your name is being smeared because someone can… I draw the line. You have a career that puts you in the spotlight, you’re going to be targeted now and then.

  But dammit, that so-called psychic knew nothing about ivory piano keys.

  “Sorry about that,” Wes said as we entered the apartment, ready to go to our separate halls.

  “About the palm reader?” I asked. “Nah, don’t sweat it, man.”

  “You sure you’re okay?”

  I shrugged. “Well it was weird, but she was a good charlatan.”

  Wes smiled. “I don’t believe in any of that shit either. She recognized you. It was like Luke and I weren’t even in the room, she went straight for you next.”

  Nodding, I agreed. “Yeah, seems that way.”

  And that pissed me off, now that I could see it from his point of view. She really had singled me out.

  “All right, goodnight buddy,” Wes yawned as he headed down the hall.

  “ ‘Night, dude.”

  I wasn’t quite tired yet and spent the next three hours looking at pictures of my daughter until I cried myself to sleep.

  9

  The following week found me back at The Urchin. With Blake’s permission, I was going to use the piano for a few hours each day and go through my set list. I thought maybe I needed to get out of my apartment while I rehearsed, and even though it wasn’t a perfect run-through the first day, the second time seemed a bit easier.

  Ree hadn’t been around on day one but she was there on Wednesday. I did my thing while she did hers around the bar and through the restaurant, and whereas I normally didn’t like people around while I practiced, I didn’t seem to mind her being there. She never spoke or interrupted me in any way, and even if Blake or Ben came out from the back to speak with each other or with Ree, they did it quietly and away from the stage. But it wasn’t just that…there was something about her presence that seemed peaceful. I wasn’t sure what it was, but I could sense that she truly was a good person.

  I’ll admit I liked being there while I rehearsed. It was definitely a good idea and I was glad I’d asked Blake for the perk. I didn’t think he’d say no, but I di
dn’t know what they did on a daily basis and was hesitant to impose. I still did my writing and composing at home, but I reviewed everything—old and new—at The Urchin, and it seemed to be working out.

  My arrangement with Blake was simple: I’d perform a nine o’clock show on a weekend whenever I felt like it. He still had seven and eight o’clock slots reserved for other musicians he liked, but the public would not have knowledge of whether I’d be dropping in or not.

  No pressure that way.

  On Friday I’d finished a short rehearsal around noon. Ree had been stocking the bar, but instead of leaving right when I was done, I sat down at her counter.

  She paused after setting a clean glass upright on the counter and smiled. “Well, piano man. What can I get you?”

  I considered the question and then replied, “Maybe just some water. No ice.”

  She didn’t even hesitate and had in front of me within seconds. “Anything else?”

  After taking a drink, I slowly shook my head. “Nah, this is good. Thank you.”

  With a nod, she returned to work, but there was something I wanted to talk to her about and didn’t know how to begin. I guess she was pretty straightforward, so maybe I didn’t really have to think about arranging my words just right.

  “Ree, can I ask you a question?”

  She stopped what she was doing and gave me a simple nod.

  “What do you think of my music?” I asked.

  Her stare was somewhat ambiguous. I couldn’t tell if she was surprised or just didn’t know how to answer. But she moved closer to me and sighed. “Well…that’s kind of a loaded question.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Is it?”

  “For me it is.”

  I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I wanted her to expound on her own. There was something about her that drew me in, made me feel comfortable, and my instincts told me we needed to have this conversation. Finally she came around the bar and pulled up a stool that was two over from me. She placed her shoes on the rungs of the stool between us and paused for a second.

  “My dad has been a huge fan of your father’s for quite a while now,” she told me. “That made me a fan too, but when you emerged into the scene, I was truly interested in an artist that was closer to my age but seemed to have the same seasoned soul as his dad.”

  Hmm, common assessment. It went along with what others had said about me in the past, but it was more interesting coming from Ree.

  “I didn’t like your band, though,” she added matter-of-factly.

  Okay, that took me by surprise. But I chose not to respond and only nodded, motioning for her to go on.

  “Don’t get me wrong, you guys were all talented, but I wasn’t into the pop/rock scene, you know? It didn’t tickle my fancy.”

  “I’m not offended,” I shrugged.

  “Your lyrics hit me, though,” she told me, now looking down at her knees, picking at a hole in her black jeans. “Sometimes I would just read your lyrics without the music. I felt that alone was truly worth the Grammys you guys won, even without the instruments.”

  “So what was it about the rest of it?”

  She slowly shrugged as she bit on her lower lip. “I think the songs were overproduced. I don’t know, I just like my music more raw.”

  I could totally agree with her there. I even fought with my record label because I felt they were trying to add more than was necessary.

  She dropped her feet to the floor and leaned onto her knees. “I love when you play those songs here, though. Just with the piano. I swear that’s what they were meant for. It’s pure. The power of your lyrics… they’re just amazing. And when you did your solo album…”

  I was waiting impatiently for this next thought of hers. My solo album. The controversial “comeback” album. That hadn’t been my intent—I’d only done music the way I’d wanted it done—but the media had their way with it. Rumor was that I was trying to take a “mature” route to my career after going through something so devastating; that losing my wife and daughter had been a wakeup call for me to step away from the rock ‘n’ roll and do something more sophisticated.

  It was all bullshit. All I did was write and record my heart and soul. It was the only thing I knew, and the only way I had survived.

  “Your solo album saved my life,” Ree finally said, looking up at me. I’d been so caught up in my thoughts I’d failed to see how timid and hesitant she’d become before she spoke. Her hands were clasped together, like she was worried about what I thought.

  “What do you mean?” I carefully asked.

  With a sigh, she glanced to the right and left before answering me. “It’s a long story, but I was in a really bad place a few years ago. Then one day I heard you put out a solo album, so I bought it. My life did a complete one-eighty.”

  I really didn’t know what to say about that so I chose not to reply yet.

  She stood with an uncomfortable chuckle as she mindlessly brushed off her thighs with her hands. “With the lifestyle I was living, I might have killed myself,” she stated casually. “Your music convinced me not to. End of story.”

  She walked around me to return to the bar and I was truly at a loss for words. My conversation with Blake came to mind and I was quickly trying to tie some pieces together.

  “So I would finally like to say thank you,” she added as she faced me from behind the counter with a quirky smile. “I never thought I would have the chance to tell you that, and when you came in that day…”

  She didn’t finish the sentence.

  Her smile distracted from the fact that she was trying not to cry right now. I was still blown away by her confession, and even though I’d had fans say I’d changed their lives or certain songs hit close to home or even got them through a tough time, I’d never had someone say that my music had convinced them to keep living.

  “I’m not suicidal,” she held her hands up with a laugh. “Don’t feel like I need special handling.”

  I smiled along with her, feeling a bit of relief that she could be easy going about it. But I could see the sadness in her eyes even though she didn’t want me to.

  “I’m sorry you went through such a difficult time,” I finally said.

  The crease between her brows revealed her concern. “I’m sorry you did, too. I hope you can find the peace you’re looking for.”

  Ha, I did too. But I felt guilty hearing Ree give me such encouragement when she’d gone through her own battle. There’d been days where I didn’t feel I could go on, either. The depression, the alcohol, the sleeping pills… I’d thought about it more than once. I had never felt imprisoned by those things, but I could certainly relate to those who had.

  Ree’s last words were finally resonating with me. I hope you can find the peace you’re looking for. I guess that meant she knew how much I was still struggling, and I was pretty sure she knew that before she heard me play a couple of weeks ago.

  “Not to get in your business,” she said, filling my glass of water again, “but maybe you should make an appearance on social media now and then. You might be surprised.”

  I immediately shook my head. “Nope. Not for me. It’s a cess pool of peoples’ complaints and intentionally hurtful bullshit.”

  She bit back a smile, and before I could get upset with her for possibly making fun of me, she shook her head and said, “Those are the parts that you’re choosing to get from it.”

  Statement, not a question, but I shrugged. “I don’t choose anything—”

  “Nuh—” she held up her hand. “There is always a choice. When you come back tomorrow night, I’ll show you.”

  Shrugging again, I replied, “Fine, but maybe you don’t quite know what it’s like for me? Seriously, you can’t just dismiss my avoidance of something and assume I just don’t like getting my feelings hurt from reading something I don’t like. Come on, I’ve been dealing with it my whole career.”

  Ree leaned against the counter with both hands and settled her
gaze directly on me. “Very true. All of it. I haven’t been in your shoes so no, I don’t know. I’m just telling you that there are a lot of people out there like me…and I think those are the ones that should matter. We are the proof that your music has been far more than just an outlet for yourself.”

  She paused for a few seconds to let her words sink in. I’d been lectured plenty of times about the influence of my music, even by my father, but there was something about that moment that hit a spot in me that had never been reached. I didn’t know what it was about this girl, but her message to me was loud and clear and I didn’t know how to respond.

  I felt like an ass sitting there whining about my life being on display for the public to pick a part, but I also knew I had every right to feel as burdened as I did. That night on the freeway changed my entire life, and even though I felt that I’d done everything that I could to get past it, I still had a long way to go.

  I stood from the bar and gave Ree an appreciative nod. “Thanks for your time, beautiful. I appreciate it.”

  She gave me a crooked smile and then winked. “You just keep playing those songs in here, piano man.”

  With a grateful nod, I made a silent agreement that I would do so.

  10

  I wasn’t shocked when Aaron made a surprise visit to Chicago on Saturday afternoon. I knew my former manager was frustrated that I wouldn’t return his calls, but it was just like him to make a physical appearance so that he wasn’t ignored any longer.

  “I’m not sure why you keep me around, Jude,” Aaron said as he sipped a Coke on my couch. “If you don’t want me working for you, why not just cut the ties entirely?”

  I could see his point, and I knew I’d been keeping him on the back burner for a reason. It wasn’t that I wanted to cut him loose; I was just not ready for his services again. We hadn’t negotiated anything new, so no, he wasn’t exactly working for me, but I wasn’t willing to end things for good.

  “I’m just not ready,” I answered.

  Aaron looked at me long and hard, and whereas with some musicians he might have just up and left right then and there, I knew he wouldn’t do that with me. I’d made him a lot of money, and even when I walked away from the band scene, terms had been good with Aaron. He gave me some time, convinced me to take care of myself first. Any smart person would know that a mended Jude Collins was better than no Jude Collins, so he’d given me the space.