Jon shrugged. Hisshoulders lifted and dropped again exhaustedly, as though he hadn’t slept in along time. I wasn’t sure that he had.
“I’vekindamade peace with the idea that some people are onlygiven two options; they either struggle, or they give up.” Pocketing his hands,he turned away from the keyboard to face me. “It’s selfish to struggle, right?But it’s betrayal to give up.”
“I know exactly whatyou mean,” I breathed out, struck by the profundity of his words. I took aguess that, not only was he a pianist but a lyricist as well.
One corner of his mouthlifted, followed by the other. “I know,” he said, and I began to wonder if hefelt it, too.
The awakening of yoursoul. Saying that you’ve found something,someone,that you’re meant to know.
CHAPTER SEVEN
JON
Jeff’s club wasopenduring the day as your run-of-the-mill bar, but come dusk, he classed up thejoint with mood lighting, upscale appetizers and live music, courtesy of hisyounger piano-playing brother—me.
That Saturday, I ranthrough the door a half hour past what would normally be showtime. His heatedglare could be felt boring holes into the back of my head as I made a beelinefor the stage with the stack of chosen chord charts under my arm.
I took the two steps upin one long stride and dropped onto the piano bench with the practiced deft ofsomeone who had been doing it for twenty years. Wrapping my fingers around themic, I pulled it to my mouth and turned to face the crowd, clearly growingimpatient, and could I really blame them? My brother had apparently beenentertaining them with 80’s soundtracks through the wonky sound system and noneof them looked the slightest bit amused.
“Good evening, folks,”I spoke charismatically, putting on my best apologetic smile. “So sorry aboutthat delay. I got a little held up at home, but I’m finally here to rescue youfrom—what are we even listening to, Jeff? Whatisthis?”
My brother killed themusic and shouted, “TheDirty Dancingsoundtrack.”
“Oh,” I responded andtipped my head, addressing the crowd below me. “Well, okay, that’s notthatbad. Right? That’s a classic.People loveDirty Dancing, don’tthey?” A mixed bag of reactions erupted in the packed room. Some grumbled, somecheered, some shrugged with indifference. “Huh, well then ...”
I turned on the benchto face the keys, and immediately jumped into the chorus of “(I’ve Had) TheTime of My Life.” The formerly disgruntled crowd broke into a laughing applausebefore they fell into the beat, helping me to keep time with the clapping oftheir hands.
My fingers came to anabrupt halt at the end of round two of the chorus and I said, “That’s … that’sliterally all I know. And as much as I’d love to just keep singing those fourlinesover and over again, my brother’s getting readyto strangle me, and sorry, guys, but my kidskindaneed me.” A smattering of chuckles stroked my confidence and I went on, “So,instead, I plan to entertain you tonight with a couple of other covers—that Iknowallthe words to, plus a feworiginals, and then, I’ll take a few requests. How does that sound?”
I waited for theirapplause to dwindle before responding with a courteous nod and a “here we go.”I tapped my foot against the pedals, counting myself into Billy Joel’s “UptownGirl.” It was practiced, even boring, but this is Long Island. And Long Islandsure loves their Billy.
***
“Jon, dude, if I have to hear ‘Piano Man’one more time, I might have to put myself out my own misery,” Jeff groaned as Iapproached the bar after the show.
“Give the people whatthey want,” I recited astutely.
He grunted and pouredme my beer. “So, uh, why were you so late tonight? You’re never late.” He slidthe glass over to my waiting hand, and I studied the foamy head as I consideredmy reply.
“I had a meeting withTessa. You know, the woman that was—”
“I remember her,” hecut in. “A meeting, huh? About the babysitting thing, you mean?”
I nodded curtly. “Yeah.I forgot to tell you, I talked to her on the phone the other night, and wedecided she should spend a little time with the girls before making anydecisions.”
I realized Jeff waswatching me and studying my reactions. The inflections in my tone. How I heldmy head. He was searching for the telltale signs that I was uncomfortable orhurting. Any inclination that I wasn’tokay.
If I had a dollar forevery time someone had given me that look over the past two years, I’d be anincredibly rich man.
“So … she was overthere today, and that’s why you were late?”
“That’s the gist ofit.” I lifted the beer to my lips and took a long gulp, keeping my eyes on thewall of liquor bottles.
“Well, are yougonnatell me how it went?”
I sighed heavily,folding my arms over the bar. “You know how it went. The girls are absolutelyobsessed with her. She’s the best thing to happen to them sinceSophia The First.” Jeff quirked aquestioning brow and I replied, “Disney show, man. Come on.”
“I have boys,” hereminded me. “We’re all aboutPaw Patrol.”
