15. Reed

15

REED

“WE DON’T NEED TENNESSEE WHISKEY” – THE RED LEMONS

E very time Violet Benson gets on stage, she plays Johnny’s old, faded blue acoustic guitar, known affectionately as Johnny Blue.

Now, I feel honored, and a little shocked, holding JB in my hands and play their song. Luna sings right along with me, providing lovely harmony during the chorus, just like Violet does in the Red Lemons’ version.

When we’re done, Violet actually wipes a tear away. “That was…really good,” she says.

“Yeah?” I ask.

“Sorry,” she says, clearing her throat. “Just need a moment.” She runs to the bathroom in her trailer—which has me wondering why she was using the other bathroom when I met her.

Fate?

“Bro.” Henry nods. “That was about ten times better than I was expecting. You play back at home?”

“Yes, he does,” Luna interjects when I hesitate. “He writes, too.”

“No shit? Well, we’ll have to chat after the show. You have Insta? Five minutes, Vi!”

“Okay!” she calls.

“Uh, yeah I do.”

“Let me follow you.”

I pull out my phone, give him my handle, and try to disguise my utter amazement that I’m being followed by Henry Cooney.

Vi comes out, freshly composed. “Y’all ready for the big stage? We doin’ this?”

“Fuck it,” Henry says, holding his fist out for a pound, which Luna and I both reciprocate. “C’mon. We’ll tell the rest of the band.”

I hand Johnny Blue back to Violet. “Thank you so much. I know how much this means to you.”

“Take it. Walk on stage with it. You got this.”

“Really? You trust me with Johnny Blue?”

Violet shrugs. “I do.”

“But you barely know me.”

“Sometimes, you’ve just got to look someone in the eye and listen to your gut. And my gut says, ‘Yes I can.’”

When I hesitate, Violet smiles and puts a hand on my shoulder. “Haven’t you ever heard of a leap of faith, Reed?”

I turn back to Luna. “You ready?”

She nods. “Born ready.”

She seems to mean it. That has me wondering what other crazy stunts she’s pulled off.

“Can you start the song with the riff or you want Downy to start with the bass?” asks Happy, their iconic drummer, as we wait to head out on stage. He doesn’t seem all that surprised that we’re singing. He seems like one of those guys who just rolls with life.

“I can do it. I know it backwards and forwards,” I assure him. “I play it all the time. Y’all are one of my favorite bands of all time.”

They give us the green light to head out on stage, and my heart slams in my chest.

“Hey, Reed,” Violet yells.

When I turn back, her smile is soft. “Yeah?”

“You got this,” she says. “I believe in you.”

I nod and step out on to the massive Railfest stage, feeling nerves and excitement surge through me. The deafening roar of the crowd washes over me, sending shivers down my spine. I look out at the sea of faces, their eager expressions and cheering amplifying the adrenaline pumping through my veins.

“We are the Red Lemons,” I say, and the crowd goes wild.

If they’re confused about why a strange man is on the mic, they’re not showing it.

Violet’s encouraging words echo in my mind, spurring me on as I grip Johnny Blue tightly. Luna stands next to me, and as the spotlight bathes us in a warm glow, I take a deep breath, centering myself and making eye contact with her before I begin to play.

Then I start.

Every note I strike reverberates through the air, mingling with the energy of the crowd. I get the feeling that I’m exactly where I’m meant to be—on stage, sharing music with a captivated audience.

We met in some dive we’ll never see again

Was a Thursday night drinking wine with your friends

I glance over at Luna in the split second we have before the chorus starts. I have a holy-shit moment, because that’s exactly how I met Luna. Okay, there are coincidences in life, right?

Shit, these drugs. What a ride.

I look back out at the crowd.

We don’t need Tennessee whiskey

And we don’t need California wine

All I need is you in my arms

To get high, high, high, high

We’ll dance in the living room till four a.m.

I know you can be my lover, baby

Can you be my best friend?

Luna sings beautifully, coming through on stage as if she’s done this a million times.

A profound feeling of awe hits me. What kind of twenty-something girl gets up on stage in front of tens of thousands of people and performs like it’s no big deal?

Who is she?

I look out into the sea of people again, wondering where Dunn is, out there with snooty Randy, proving to him that we’re the band.

I grin broadly, wondering if he’s surprised we actually pulled it off.

Nah. Dunn knew we’d do it. He’s not a doubter.

Toes in the river on a sunny afternoon

I got all I need—me, myself, and you

We laughed and we danced as it started to pour

You began to run; what’d you do that for?

Cuz, baby,

We don’t need Tennessee whiskey

And we don’t need California wine

All I need is you in my arms

To get high, high, high, high

We’ll dance in the living room till four a.m.

I know you can be my lover, baby

Can you be my best friend?

The band launches into their iconic jam, first with the violin, then the trumpet, and finally I see Henry Cooney appear on stage with his electric guitar, pumping out an insane solo. The crowd goes nuts before we sing the last verse.

We’re gettin’ older, and after all this time

I’m still yours, and you’re still mine

Sometimes I’ll think of that dirty dive bar

I’ll think what are the chances, and look at the stars…

As we sing the chorus for the last time, Violet comes out on stage to whoops and cheers—though I wonder if anyone knows who she is in her Mia Wallace Pulp Fiction costume.

She stands with me at the mic and sings the very last turnaround with us:

I know you can be my lover, baby

Can you be my best friend?

As the crowd cheers, Vi yells in my ear, “That was fucking awesome! You two are great together.”

I hand Johnny Blue over to Vi and high five Luna as we exit the stage, my adrenaline pumping.

“That was amazing!” Luna yells, wrapping me up in a big hug, pressing her body against mine. “We just played on stage for the Red Lemons!”

We’ve hugged before, but this one feels different. Maybe it’s the drugs. Maybe it’s the fact that we just performed in front of ten thousand fucking people. I don’t know. But butterflies, the likes of which I’ve never felt, surge through me and swirl around everywhere.

“You were incredible,” I tell her. “I didn’t know you could sing like that.”

“Me neither. Guess all my shower singing finally came in handy.” She smiles. “What do we do now?”

“We go enjoy the rest of the show and try to find Dunn.”

“Won’t that Randy guy be suspicious if we show up in the crowd, though?”

“At this point, who cares? Honestly. Even if they lock us out of our hotel room, what do we have in there? Some clothes?”

“Your guitar.”

“Oh, shit. Good point.”

“Whatever,” she says. “We’ll figure it out.”

I nod. She’s right. And for once in my goddamn life, I feel like I’m not fighting the universe. I’m cool with its plan for me.