Diary of a Blues Goddess (35 page)

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Authors: Erica Orloff

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary

BOOK: Diary of a Blues Goddess
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I was mobbed as soon as I hit the floor of the Mudslide. I was congratulated by strangers, and someone asked if he could take his photo with me. A reporter approached me and asked if he could call me the next day for an interview. I soaked it all up, feeling like Cinderella at the ball.

Then I saw Dominique.

I rushed forward. "What the hell happened to you?" I asked. She was dressed in a conservative Halston blouse, the one I'd seen her repairing that morning. She wore a plain black skirt and sensible heels.

"Where are your fuck-me pumps? Where is your hat? Your feather boa? Your fishnets? Your red nail polish?" I turned her hand over. Her nails were in an elegant French manicure. I put my hand to her forehead. "Are you okay?"

She giggled. "I am. I decided that maybe, just maybe, Terrence deserved another chance. This is my 'wife of a computer analyst' outfit."

"You're not fooling anyone. The Adam's apple gives you away. That and your size-twelve shoes."

She hugged me. "Enough about that. You were terrific. I love you."

"Love you, too."

"You were beyond fantastic." She gave me a squeeze.

"Is that skirt made of tweed?"

"Yes."

"It's so unlike you."

"Terrence said so, too. He met me here. Said he loved me just the way I am. Platinum wig and purple shoes and all."

Terrence approached with a snifter of Baileys Irish Cream for Dominique and a Canadian Club and soda for himself. He kissed her on the cheek (having to stand on tiptoe to do so; as I said, Dominique wasn't fooling anyone), and then leaned over and kissed me.

"Great show, Georgia."

"Thanks, Terrence."

"Did Dominique show you the ring I bought her?"

"No."

Dominique waved her hand. A rather conspicuous diamond in a gold setting.

"Is that an engagement ring?"

"Yes." Terrence beamed. "She was right. I'm not hiding us anymore. I don't even like her in this getup. She deserves to wear what she wants."

"Congratulations."

"We're going to have a commitment ceremony. I want you to be maid of honor," Dominique said.

"Thank you. Just no ugly bridesmaid dresses."

"For sure. Something you can wear again," Terrence said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

Dominique and I looked at him.

"What?" He blushed.

"Don't you realize that is the biggest hoax foisted onto innocent women everywhere? Such an outfit does not exist. Besides, I would venture to guess you'll have three bridesmaids all wearing shirts that say 'Shirley' on them," I said.

"We don't know any Shirleys."

Dominique and I laughed. "She'll explain. In the meantime, welcome to the family."

I looked at Dominique. She beamed. "I was actually thinking a whole
Gone With the Wind
theme."

"No hoop skirts."

"Not even for me?" She pouted.

"You're about the only one I would agree to wear one for."

I moved over to Jack and Maggie and enveloped her in a hug. "Thank you," I whispered into her ear.

"I couldn't stay mad at you." She hugged me fiercely, then released me. Jack wrapped his arm around her waist. She leaned her head on his shoulder.

"You two look so cute together."

"Don't they?" Gary came over and pecked me on the cheek. "You were great, Georgia."

"Thanks, Gary. We've come a long way from our days when we first learned 'Celebration.' Remember Elvis and his hip swivels?"

Gary grinned. "But all good things must come to an end."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That I know it's time for you to go. That I took out an ad for auditions for a new lead singer."

"But—"

"Georgie, I may like ABBA, but that doesn't mean I don't know good blues when I hear them. You were reborn up there. Just promise me when you're famous you won't forget your old band. Thank us at the Grammy's."

"Please. Blues singers starve as much as wedding bands."

"Not when they sing like that. So what do you want to drink? I'm buying."

"I'll take a champagne cocktail."

Nan kissed me. My father came over to embrace me again. Feeling him wrap his arms around me was so strange, to have my cheek on his shoulder. He had been a ghost all my life, and now he was flesh and blood. Tony stood to one side, sipping "a pint" as he called it, and waiting for me. Red had his arms around Nan. And out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Casanova Jones making his way toward me. Tony stiffened, and everyone else sort of took a step closer to me on impulse.

As he stood in front of me, I stepped away from my friends so Rick and I could speak alone.

"I saw you from onstage."

"This is for you." He handed me the rose. "You were unbelievable." He reached out a hand to touch one of my curls. The scent of his cologne made me feel weak.

"Thanks."

"So, are you going to give me another chance? Don't you know how crazy I am about you?"

"Me and the female population of New Orleans."

"Georgie, we happened so fast. But I miss you like mad. Don't you miss me?"

"You know, Rick, I do. I miss your touch. But in the end, I think I'm looking for the silences."

"What?" He leaned in closer to me, a guy ever aware of how beautiful he was. He was used to his good looks being a substitute for honesty.

"The silences. The spaces between the notes."

I could see Tony drinking his beer silently, staring at Rick and me, his gaze drifting, almost as if he couldn't stop himself, back and forth.

"Sorry, Rick." I turned and walked toward Tony. Rick followed me and put his hand on my arm.

"Wait!"

"Don't do this. Not here. Not tonight."

"Then let me take you to breakfast tomorrow. To brunch. We can talk about it then. Let me make you eggs and bacon."

"Rick… I'm leaving for New York. I'm going to audition for a band there."

"Let me talk you out of it."

I handed him back the rose. "You know, the fact that you would try means you don't know me all that well. Don't know what's important."

"Then teach me."

"No. I shouldn't have to, Rick. Look… I don't hate you. All the years since high school, you were my great, unrequited love. But the fantasy of you was better than the reality. Being with you taught me a lot about myself… and it somehow inspired me to do what I did tonight."

"I wish you'd give me a second chance."

"Our whole affair was a second chance."

I turned my back to him and walked over to the queens.

"What's with the tiaras, ladies?" I asked of Lady Brett, Angelica, Monica and Desiree.

"We usually celebrate Tiara Tuesdays," Angelica said.

"We drink tequila. We're into a whole alliteration thing," Monica added.

"But if ever there was a reason for non-Tuesday tiara-wearing, this was it." Angelica said, "You rock."

"Well, I'm honored."

"We have one for you." Angelica smiled and pushed a funky rhinestone-encrusted tiara on my head.

"To the Blues Goddess!" Red lifted his glass. We all drank, and I felt up to my head where the tiara perched in some curls. I'd never won anything before. And any thoughts of being homecoming queen down here were banished by the bottled blondes. But tonight, I was belle of the ball.

Chapter 40

 

Tony was gone.

One minute he was there, the next, he wasn't. I took off my tiara and frantically combed the crowd. How had he slipped away?

I looked around the bar. "Anyone seen Tony?"

But no one had. Maybe he had gone to the men's room. I sent jack to look for him. He wasn't there. Did Tony misinterpret Rick's rose? I stayed for one more round, then headed home with Angelica.

"Stay for another drink," Terrence urged me as I collected my things. "I'm buying."

"I need to go. I need to talk to Tony."

Once in Angelica's Miata, I turned to her. "Honey, if you can floor it, I'd be eternally grateful."

"Let's fly," she said, put the car into drive, and we hurtled down the street.

Arriving back at the Heartbreak Hotel, the light over the front door was lit. I let myself in. "Tony! Tony!"

I ran up the stairs and knocked on his bedroom door. No answer. I let myself in. The place had been cleaned out. His suitcase was gone. I rushed over to the French doors and opened them, praying he would be in the garden. I looked down at the flowers, but he wasn't there.

Shutting the door, I felt the tears come. This wasn't like when Rick hurt me. This was a sense that part of me had been ripped out, forever.

I left Tony's room and started down the hall to my own. Angelica was just coming to the top of the landing.

"He's gone. I finally wake up and he's left."

"He'll be back."

I shook my head. "You don't know him. This is it. Done. Off to New York, then Ireland. Gone."

"Let me tell you something."

"Hmm?"

"You see me and the other Shirleys? Dominique, Lady Brett?"

I nodded, cursing myself inside.

"We're all about having a good time, but you think it's easy to pick this life? Would I
choose
it? This is my destiny, but it's full of hard times. Lonely times. And if I loved someone, if I knew it, wouldn't nothin' stop me from gettin'
my
man."

"I hear you."

She put a manicured finger to my chin and tilted it up.

"New York ain't so big you can't find a person who probably wants to be found anyway."

"Thanks." I walked into my room and stared at the records. Every Sunday he had come here to my altar of all things blues, and he had loved me all along.

I picked out Etta James. I put the record on my turntable. I put the needle down and listened to the hiss as the needle moved to the first song. Then I sat down with a box of tissues and cried the blues.

Chapter 41

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