Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Erik

I’m sitting down at my standard table at the bar. Rylee hasn’t broken away from her duties to sit down with me like she usually does but I don’t mind. I enjoy watching her work or just listening to the music and knowing I’ll be with her soon. I’ve lost sight of her at the bar, and I imagine she’s in the back right now delivering drinks to the talent.

At least, I imagine that until she steps out onto the stage. I realize she’s going to sing, and that surprises me. I’m not unhappy about it. I’m just surprised. The band starts with a blues rock beat and I notice the bar manager is nervous. I’m guessing this isn’t planned and that someone likely called in sick or something.

And then she opens her mouth and Heaven descends on the place.

There are a number of ways I can describe her voice but I’ll start by saying she’s a powerful, raw, and expressive mezzo-soprano. Panthers, shifters, are almost addicted to music. We know it. We need it. This girl’s voice! It has a bluesy quality and a wide vocal range, strong vibrato, and deeply emotional delivery. She’s doing Cry Baby by Janis Joplin, a song only an idiot would try because you can’t compete with Janis.

Except she does. Rylee’s voice seems to pour out with raw intensity, and she imbues this song, this song that ought to be out of touch for anyone other than Janis, with a personal and almost primal individuality that…

The girl’s pain is out there for all of us to hear, and there’s no way to keep from hearing it. Her phrasing and delivery are right up there with Janis but also…

I don’t know how to explain it. She feels raw but her voice is also gentle at points.

Her performance opens me to the lyrics in a new way. I’ve heard the song hundreds of times, I think, but this is the first time I realize it’s not just expressing the pain but also begging for the guy to return. It’s not just sad but there’s an air of desperation to the whole thing that makes it impact even more deeply for me. I stare as she stands there nervously, mouth closed and eyes furtive. I stare in shock and then I’m on my feet applauding.

And everyone else is, too.

It’s like a climactic moment in a movie there the audience pauses for four or five seconds and then leaps up to bring their hands together. It’s the sort of thing you always see in movies but never real life. It happens in real life this time, though. Everyone is hit hard by Rylee’s performance. Everyone is overpowered.

The girl is magic.

Impossible magic.

She stands there on stage, no longer furtive and nervous but almost bemused. I can see the emotion threatening to overtake her and without realizing I’m doing it, I rush to the stage. I easily sidestep security and leap up. I land in front of her just as she starts to cry. My arms go around her and she lets it all flow out of her while the audience applauds some more. I feel a tap on my shoulder, turn, and see a security guard. The manager of the bar steps in, though, and waves him away. The manager says, “What the hell are you doing waiting tables?”

She laughs a little through her tears. He walks to the edge of the stage and grabs a napkin for her tears. Then he grabs the microphone and says, “What do you say we convince her to sing another?” Naturally, the applause is overwhelming.

Four hours later, I open the door to her hotel room and help her inside. She’s exhausted. She’s happy. She may, actually, be truly happy for the first time since we’ve met.

“That was just so...amazing. Rylee, you’re incredible.”

She smiles at me but waves me off. “Well, it was fun, but I’ll be back to waiting tables tomorrow so ...”

I shake my head. “No way, you’re too talented to just be wasting away as some bar waitress. I mean, even your manager wants you to perform.”

“Well, I told him no.”

I’m stunned into silence for a moment.

She sits on the edge of the bed and picks at the cheap coverlet. “I don’t have any of my band stuff anymore. I pawned it. I made a decision to give up that life, Erik. It was taking too much away from me.”

“But you just need the right ...”

She hops up and hugs me. “Erik, I really appreciate you believing in me and all, but I need you to know that I’m happy right now. I’m happy with how things are going.” She puts a hand on my cheek and kisses me. “I’m happy with you.”

But I’m like a dog with a bone (or a panther with a rabbit?), and I just can’t let Rylee throw this talent away. “What about your guitar? You still have that.”

“It’s pretty beat up and it’s just an acoustic. It’s just for fun.”

“But you could do more. I can help you get gigs, or manage or ...”

“No!” She steps away from me. “Look, Erik, I’m just not that good and I don’t need to focus on the wrong thing here when I’m just starting to build the right thing.”

I want to tell her she’s just being modest and surely, she knows how good she really is. I want to tell her I’ll be there to support her, but I see the look on her face, and I stay quiet.

I take her back into my arms and hold her. “Okay, okay.”

We kiss again and I let the subject drop as we get excited about other things.

But I leave the hotel early the next morning and head out for the pawn shop. I know which one it is because she mentioned it much earlier when she talked about getting out of the band and her history with them.

Hours later, I get back to the hotel. It’s getting close to the time when she’d be heading to work, but I’m too excited to wait until she’s off for the night.

“Hey, Rylee, come one out, I have a bit of a surprise for you.” I knock on the door and wait.

She opens it with a big smile. “Are you the surprise? I thought you were heading to work today.”

“Well, I’m due in tomorrow, but no, I’m not the surprise. Come on.”

I feel like a kid showing his parents something so wonderful. I grab her hand and hurry her over to the back of my truck, which is covered by a tarp. I grin like a fool as I make a big flourish and whisk the tarp back from the band equipment I bought back from the pawn shop that morning.

“Ta da!”

Rylee stands there and a world of emotions passes over her face. I see shock, hope, anger, sadness, and then, it settles on anger again. “What did you do?”

“I got your equipment back. The guy was pretty reasonable.”

“I ...uh, I can’t have you doing this. I can’t, no, I don’t want it. Erik! I said I didn’t need it!”

“Well, maybe some of this can be offered to the band at the bar to be your backup, but you can do some professional recording. We can find a studio for you and ...”

“No, Erik, no! Why won’t you listen to me? Last night was fun, that’s all it was. It was just good fun. I stood in for Jackie because her kid was sick, but I’m not going to be up on stage every night.”

I don’t understand what’s going on. I’m confused that she would get hung up on the bar. “Honey, we can get you venues anywhere. I absolutely believe that. I’ll find you some places to sing.”

“Erik, you’re not listening to me.”

“Well, what am I listening to?” I’m beginning to feel my own anger now. “Last night I listened to an amazing undiscovered talent. I think a lot of other people would like to listen to her too.”

“But I don’t want to do it, Erik. That’s it. I don’t want to be in that world again. Now, just fucking drop it!”

I stand there, hurt in a way I can’t define. “Okay, I’ll leave it alone.” I pull the tarp back over the equipment. “Do you want me to drive you over to work now?”

“No, I’ll walk over.” She starts off. She doesn’t look back. I keep expecting it but she doesn’t.

I stand there, watching her go, and I feel like the most useless fool around. What the hell just happened? Since when does supporting your girlfriend’s dreams equal being insensitive and thoughtless?

I climb in my truck, but I just sit and watch Rylee in my rearview mirror as she runs across the street to the bar.

“Fuck!” I pound the steering wheel.

How the fuck did this get so messed up?

I start the truck up and head out towards home and work. I know when I get there, I’m going to store this stuff in the garage because damn it, I’m not going to let her just walk out on her dreams just because she doesn’t think she’s good enough to make it.

I figure there will be a time when she’s more receptive to the idea, when she’ll understand that she really is that talented and capable.

And deserving.

Someday, I have no doubt, she’ll see what I see.