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She smiled at him. “Yes. I’m ready.”
Twenty-Four
Kate placed the guitar strap over her head and adjusted it to a comfortable position. It took a few moments to find that old place where the guitar neck was just slightly raised to the left and the body of the guitar was placed in front of her, so that her arm curved effortlessly and her hand could move across the strings with ease. She used to be able to find that place without thought, but now it took a few adjustments, a little strum, and a further adjustment of the strap at her neck.
She fiddled with the strings, plucking and twisting the tuning peg at the neck, until her ear was satisfied. Below, sitting at the tables, on chairs lining the walls and the stools up against the bar, were all the people who knew her father and wanted in some way to be part of the music and the honor everyone on stage was determined to pay him with. Formica boxes had been distributed around the room to receive donations for the local cancer charity. Already two boxes, one at either end of the bar, were filled with bills.
Tom was already sitting at the piano on the left of the stage, while on the opposite side Stokey sat at his drums. Phil and Ethan were up front at the mikes with a spare for Tom, later. Kate positioned herself farther back, nearer the piano. Nearer Tom.
Ethan began tuning his own guitar, and Kate looked over to him, her back to the audience. He was wearing his fedora now, perched low on his head, his shirt sleeves rolled up, the top button still unbuttoned. It should have looked as incongruous as Phil and Stokey’s own clothes, but it didn’t. Somehow, he carried it off. He caught her glance and gave her a wink. She smiled, glad for the encouragement, until Tamzin’s voice caught her attention. Tamzin mounted the stage and strode over to Tom, cutting in front of Kate to sit on the piano bench, next to Tom. Kate glanced at Ethan again and he arched his brow, a wry smile forming. She widened her eyes.
“Just wanted to wish you luck, babe,” said Tamzin, leaning across to give Tom a kiss. “I’m just over there, if you want me to help out with the vocals or anything.”
It took Kate a few seconds to realize that Tamzin had drunk more than a few beers, or whatever alcoholic beverage she’d decided wasn’t poisonous to her body.
“No, we’re good,” said Tom tightly. “Just go sit down.”
She put her arms around his shoulders and gave them a big squeeze. “Okay, babe. Just so you know, I’m here if you need me. You’ve been through so much.”
Tom peeled her arms from around him. “Thanks. Now, just go. We’re just doing the final sound check.”
She bobbed her head in acknowledgment, rose and strode across the stage again, her long braids swinging wildly behind her. Kate looked at Tom and saw the anger in his eyes. She put her hand on his shoulder and gave it the slightest squeeze.
“You okay?” she asked softly.
He sighed and nodded. “Yeah. Let’s get started. We’re up first.”
She nodded. Phil had mentioned it earlier, checking that she was okay with it. Her thought was to get it over with, and at that moment it still seemed the best plan. Kate took her place at the mike, angling it so that she could look at Tom while he played, but still have most of her body facing the audience. Phil, Stokey, and Ethan took their own places. Tom played the opening chord for “Our House” and the two of them sang, their eyes locked, the harmony still there.
She strummed her guitar, her fingers finding the position without thought, the words coming automatically. Tom’s eyes continued to fix on hers, and she was only vaguely aware of Phil and Ethan lending their harmonies, joined by Stokey’s subtle drum rhythms. It wasn’t a long song, but after the opening phrases, she found she became lost to it, the music soaring through her, the joy of it awakening the familiar pleasure that was like nothing else.
Tom grinned at her, his eyes twinkling. He knew. He knew what it was like and what it did to her. She returned the grin and for those moments she felt the lightness, felt uplifted and free, as she followed Tom’s lead. All too soon, the song ended, the last few guitar chords echoing as the words faded away.
She took a deep breath while around her the applause rang out, strong and loud. She gave a nod to the audience, not really looking at them or taking in anything about them. She could feel Tom’s hand resting gently on her back, reassuring her.
Ethan looked over at her, the question in his eyes. She felt a small push on her back from Tom. The high from the previous song was still coursing through her, so she smiled at Ethan and gave a nod. He adjusted a peg on his guitar, grinned at her to signal he was starting. She placed her left hand on the guitar neck in readiness, and at his nod they began.
The opening fingerpicking came easily after the first few times, and the tension inside Kate eased a little, knowing that Ethan would lead out, and all she had to do was come in with the counter phrases at the right time. It was a beautiful song, and as Ethan began the opening phrases, she knew that he understood her father’s music. It was there in his tone, the guitar style and even his posture. She responded instantly and sang the counter phrase, her gaze locked with his. Perfect. Just like she’d thought it would be all those years ago when she first heard him singing. When she thought about how his voice was a match for hers, that his understanding of the music would, without a doubt, stretch to her own. If only there was an opportunity for it.
Out of nowhere she was there, with the fire in her hair
With her eyes of green and gold, full of stories all untold
And her flowing graceful air, she gave a smile oh so rare
That Rossetti girl, that Rossetti girl, that Rossetti girl.
Then she picks up her guitar, plays it boldly, plays it hard
And the truths she sings out loud, she sings them slowly and uncowed
She wins me fast, she wins me true, and I hoped she felt it too,
That Rossetti girl, that Rossetti girl, that Rossetti girl.
She glanced out into the audience and saw the nodding heads, a few with teary eyes, remembering, and some with big grins. And then she saw Mrs. Markowsky, Missy’s mother, her eyes fixed on Kate, her expression filled with sadness. Kate’s voice faltered. It was the end of the second verse. She tried to continue, but her voice became soft, thready. Ethan gave her a puzzled glance but sang on, the words of her counter phrase issuing from him with perfect ease while everything Missy had said and she had denied ran through her mind. No, this wasn’t the life for her. Hadn’t she known that? This was evidence of the betrayal of the worst sort and with the highest price paid. Her father’s song wandered through her, but it did nothing to drown out the other painful emotions inside her.
By the time she ends the song, there’s only one place I belong
