Gonna Sell The Bitch's Car Ch. 04

And cried, and cried some more. I didn't know what to do so I just held her, rocking gently, petting her as I would a child. Slowly the sobs subsided and she became quiet. I held her for about forty five minutes, thinking she was asleep.

She stirred after a while, then started and jumped out of my arms. She looked shattered, lost, and so alone. I wanted nothing more in the world than to scoop her back into my embrace and tell it was all right, that she was a good person and loved, especially by me.

I realized then that I wasn't in love with Sammi anymore, I was in love with Moira, and had been since the first time we played together. Damn, why did she have to be so married? Of course, with my track record, it wouldn't have mattered anyway.

Instead of following my instincts, I helped her into the rocking chair and got her a box of tissues. She wiped her eyes, dabbed her cheek, and did a very unladylike job of blowing her nose.

It was damn near a honk, and it made her giggle.

"Want to talk about it?" I asked gently.

She nodded and got her purse. She pulled a picture out and handed it to me.

It was a picture of a child, a red haired beauty with a beautiful smile. It must have been a Halloween photo. She was dressed as a fairy, in a little green satin dress with gossamer wings. At first I thought it was Moira until I looked a little closer. I looked to Moira for confirmation.

She nodded.

"My daughter, Erin. She had just turned four when that was taken."

.................................................

"Where is she now?" I was picturing a scenario of a vengeful ex husband stealing her away.

"Forest Lawn. That picture was taken about seven months before she passed. Aggressive form of childhood cancer. From diagnosis to passing was only ten months. She would have turned seven today."

I didn't know what to say.

"Paul and I were supposed to visit her today, that's why I rode down with you. But he called about an hour after he was supposed to be home. Emergency meeting, couldn't be avoided. What could be more important to him than honoring her memory? Damn him!"

She was sobbing again.

"Moira, I'll take you. I'm overdue for a visit myself."

She tried to stop me, but I led her to the van and buckled her in. The fight had gone out of her, she just stared out the window while I drove.

I stopped at a florist and bought three bouquets. She noticed the number but said nothing.

"Which section?" I asked as we pulled through the gate.

"Northeast corner, section C."

I parked as close as I could and helped her out. I handed her the flowers I had picked, the florist said it was appropriate for a seven year old girl. I picked up the other two and told her I would give her privacy.

She put her hand on my arm. "Please go with me."

She looked desperate, so I took her hand and followed her.

Forest Lawn didn't allow stones, but accepted sculptures. Near her plaque was a small angel, arms reaching heavenward. If you looked close you could see it resembled a fairy. The engraving said: "To all the small angels". I knew who funded it without question.

She talked for half an hour. She apologized for her father not being there for her birthday, and said he would make it up to her. She told her about her life, and being in a band, introducing me as her band mate and best friend. She wound up by talking about the flowers. Finally she told her she loved her more today than ever, and that she would be back soon. She kissed her hand and placed it on the plaque, then turned and strode off for awhile.

She was staring off into the distance, but took my hand when I joined her.

"Thank you, Wiley. Now let's go visit your loved ones."

I took her to see Mom and Chip, buried side by side. I told her who they were, and before I could stop myself told her the whole story. She didn't say a word, just held my hand tighter.

She was surprised when I laid only one bouquet down.

Then I took her over and introduced her to Kara, again telling the whole story.

She gazed down for awhile, then whispered, "You lucky, lucky girl, getting to love Wiley first. I envy you, but think I understand him better now. Thank you for loving him."

We were quiet when we left.

"Wiley, just drive around for a little, will you?"

I didn't say a word, and thirty minutes later we were at the state park that I had taken Sandy to on our first date. The place was always soothing to me. We sat on the picnic table and watched the fishermen and the families picnicing for awhile.

She hadn't let go of my hand since we got out of the car.

"Thank you for being there when I needed you. Now, please, I can tell you're in some kind of pain. Let me help. If nothing else I'll be glad to listen. You do it for me. Please, hon, tell me what's going on."

I think the 'hon' broke me, so I told her about the last two years, first with Sandy, and now Sammi. She was livid.

"What the hell is wrong with these women? Does the blood not go all the way to their brains? You're the finest man I've ever met. Kind, gentle, loving, loyal, what the hell is wrong with them?"

I sincerely hope I never see that look she had on her face directed at me.

"What are you going to do about her?" She demanded indignantly.

So I told her. She looked confused, surprised, and finally happy.

"I'm gonna have to reevaluate my opinion of you, but I like it. And I'm gonna help you."

She smile she had was not pleasant.

................................................

Things were rapidly coming to a head, and just when I thought if I had one more crisis to deal with I would blow my brains out, a big one came at me.

"Wiley, honey, how are you? I've got a problem I need help with, and you're the first one I thought of. Will you help me, please?"

It was Mrs. Miller, my old piano/organ teacher, wife of the man who taught me to play guitar. They were more than teachers, almost a second set of grandparents. He had passed away last year, and I checked on her from time to time.

She didn't have anyone else. Her only child and his wife were killed in an auto accident years before.

What she had was their son, her grandson, probably the most useless human I had ever met. He was due a trust fund from the accident when he was thirty. He was twenty two now and a two time convicted felon. We lived in a three strike state, and I would have bet every guitar I owned he would go down for the count way before then.

He was in trouble, again. She had gone through most of her savings paying for bail and lawyers.

The grandson was a unrepentant druggie and had been caught with a felony amount of crack on him.

No doubt about it, he was gone.

She was trying to raise bail money, but with his

track record nobody wanted to bond him. She finally found one who would do it, if she put the whole $50,000 up front. If he made his court date he would refund 90%.

I tried my best to talk her out of it. He was her last living relative, and she had a blind spot as far as he was concerned.

He had been through rehab twice, as well as several twelve step programs. He would last a month, a week, a day, and be back hustling the street for his next fix.

.................................................

Spending my life in music, I had more than a little experience with drugs. Not the superstar 'I've got money so fuck the world' scenario, but the day to day, grind out for a living musicians, who fell prey to the ready availability. Knew three who ended up in jail, five that lost everything including their families, and two who lost everything including their lives.

I had dabbled. I was young, it was available, so I sampled.

I didn't like pot because I didn't smoke and it tore my lungs up. I was scared of heroin so that was out. Did two lines of coke once and played so badly, they cut my amp off. I was so messed up I didn't even realize it. I still drank, rarely to excess.

Luckily, I looked around, saw what it was doing to my friends, and stopped.

.................................................

Mrs Myers, or 'Nonnie' as her she had her students call her, was distraught.

"I can't get that kind of money up. What am I going to do?"

My first response would have been leave him where he was, but I knew she wouldn't do that. I was afraid she would do something foolish like remortgage her house if I didn't step in.

She had something of value, something she didn't even realize she had. Her husband was the one who got me started collecting guitars, and she had a few of them left.

"Nonnie, I think I can help you. How many of Carl's old guitars do you still have?"

"I don't know, Wiley, he packed them all up when he got sick and told me to give them to Carl Jr. when he passed. When Junior died and I forgot all them. They're in the back bedroom still, I guess."

They were still there. Apparently the grandson had no idea how much they were worth, or they would have been long gone. Everything he had was top of the line, and he had a life time to collect them.

He had five guitars. The first three were valuable, but not rare. On a quick sale I could probably get between eight and twelve thousand for all three.

The other two fell into a completely different area. They amounted to the holy grail for guitar collectors.

One was a 1953 gold top Les Paul, made the first year they put serial numbers on them. This one was in the low three hundred range. It still had the original box and paperwork, and more importantly, it was signed by Les Paul himself, and there was a picture of him in the late fifties holding the guitar. The picture was inscribed with "Carl, treat it well, play it often, love the music, your friend, Les Paul."

The Les Paul model was actually designed by one of Gibson's engineers. Les was brought into the project pretty late, a fifties version of branding a product.

Truth be told, the '53 model wasn't a very good guitar. It was a bitch to keep tuned and wasn't really that playable. This didn't matter at all to most collectors.

By 1957 they had taken the bugs out and had a very good product. The other guitar was a 1957 sunburst Les Paul, also with original paperwork and case. Together they could bring in the mid six figures at the right auction.

I wrote Nonnie a check for the first three, giving her full value. I wasn't in this one for a profit.

I gave her fifty thousand for a 25% interest in both Les Paul models, having my lawyer draw up a binding contract. We immediately shipped them to Sotheby Auctions in London for an instrument sale they had coming up. We insured them for half a million.

She bailed him out, and the judge put in a proviso that he had to wear an ankle bracelet and could not leave town. If he passed the city limits the bond would be revoked and he would be back in jail.

I had a long talk with the bondsman. Most bondsmen are nice guys if you play by the rules, and this one actually liked Nonnie. We agreed that in addition to the bracelet one of his guys would spot check him several times a day, as long as I paid for his time. I thought it was a good investment.

................................................

This put a serious dent in my ready cash, so I called up a guy who had been bugging me about the Mach 1, and sold it to him for $35,00. I could have probably gotten a lot more for it if I put in one of those auctions you see on television, but one, I needed working capital, and two, I knew it would piss Sammi off.

It did. She raised hell, she actually loved the car.

"Damn it Wiley, I was hoping you would give it to me for a wedding present."

I just smiled, which made her angrier.

"I told you when you started driving it not to get attached. I needed the money so I sold it."

I'm sure with her knowledge of my finances she wondered why I needed the money, but she didn't dare ask.

"When are we going to look for me a car? I need one pretty bad."

"Tell you what, after the benefit we'll address your transportation problem. Right now I've got to focus on that."

"And our marriage."

She all but spit the words out.

"Oh yeah, I'm working on that" I replied.

.............................................

Suddenly, I was tired. Tired of Sammi, tired of the band, tired of responsibilities, even tired of Moira because I couldn't have her. Most of all I was tired of me and the continual mess my life had become. I declared an unscheduled holiday and disappeared for thirty six hours.

I was even tired of driving my van, I actually missed the Mach 1. Changing my voicemail to say I would be unavailable for the next twenty four hours, I rented the most powerful Mustang they had on the lot, and drove off into the sunset.

................................................

Actually, since I was heading east, I was driving into the sunrise. There was someone I needed to see.

My lesbian buddy from college now had a thriving practice in another state. We kept in touch through reunions and alumni updates, so I had access to her number.

I called, got her receptionist. She was in a session and would be available in about an hour. I gave her my number and told her to say it was the future father of her children. I know the receptionist was startled, but then I laughed and told her my name.

She called back in fifty minutes.

"Where the hell have you been? My girlfriend has been ovulating for seven years. You're about to run out of time."

We joked and reminisced for a few minutes before I got to the reason I called her.

Somehow she didn't seemed that surprised. Her day was full, but if I was willing to buy her dinner she would make herself available.

There were hugs and kisses. Her girlfriend was there and showed me pictures of the two kids they had by artificial insemination.

"Got tired of waiting, you slack ass."

Soon her spouse said her goodbyes and we headed back to her office.

"All right, we're on the clock. Start talking."

So I told her about my life for the last two years, all of it. When I was done she just nodded and looked out the window for a second.

"I'll be brutally honest here. I don't think you were in love with Sandy, or Sammi either. In your head, I think you could hear a clock ticking and felt it was time to find a mate. You wanted to be in love so you talked yourself into it."

"From what I hear about your friend Moira, the way you talk about her, you may actually love her. But she's unattainable."

"Something you need to realize, Wiley, if you're ever going to have a successful relationship, is that you have to give all of yourself to whoever you choose. You can't give her half, or just the parts you want her to know about, but all of you.

You can't keep people in little boxes, neatly tagged. Life is sloppy, messy, and you can't control it all the time."

"Don't get me wrong here. Everybody has secrets, it's human nature. Just keep your priorities straight. If you decide to love someone, do it with all of your heart and mind. If you get hurt, you get hurt. But eventually, usually when you least expect it, you'll find what you're looking for."

"And when you do, I expect to hear all about it."

I thought about what she said a lot on the way home. I hate when someone tells you something you should have been smart enough to figure out on your own.

I also made a standing appointment for once a month. The habits of a lifetime were going to be hard to change.

.................................................

The first thing I did when I got home was try to talk to Sammi. I wasn't going to mention her cheating. In my mind I had been cheating her by not committing fully. I decided to keep the rental Mustang for a few days so she would have transportation.

She burst out of the house when I pulled up. Her face was flushed and she seemed very, very, nervous and angry.

"Where the fuck have you been? The phone has been ringing off the hook. Everybody has been looking for you. I didn't know what to tell them, so I just took messages. Goddammit, why did you turn off your cell?"

I'm sure it was just a coincidence that I saw Garys' car pulling away as I turned into my street.

Her attitude, and seeing his car pull away, altered the forgiving mood I was in. No, I didn't love her anymore, we probably wouldn't have made it even if she didn't cheat, but the fact was she did, and I had a hard time handling it.

"I had a lot to think about, things I had to work out. I know I should have talked to you, but the fact is I didn't. I'm sorry, I should have. But I feel better now, I actually talked to a professional and she pointed out a lot of things I need to work on to be a better person. It's been a lot to process."

I wanted to have a serious discussion, to be honest with each other, but she chose to attack.

"Well, that's just fucking ducky. You leave me in the middle and go out to find yourself. What about me? Maybe I should take a few days and go looking for myself too. What about that?"

She didn't like my answer.

"That might be a good idea. Take the Mustang, it's a rental, but it's paid for for the next few days. Think about things, like should we continue.

We haven't really gotten along lately, maybe that's a warning."

Not what she was expecting, not at all. But she had her temper up.

"Maybe I will! Maybe I'll find someone else who is interested a real relationship. He might even have red hair. What do you think of that?"

"I think you should do whatever makes you happy. I bet you won't have to go out of town, I bet you could look a lot closer to home and find that. Maybe you already have."

We had been getting progressively louder, and hadn't even made it into the house. I'm sure the neighbors were getting an earful.

My last statement shocked her, I saw a brief flash of guilt maybe, but she forged ahead.

"Fuck you!" She screamed, snatching the keys from my hand and peeling off down the street as I stood there in surprise.

"That went well" I said to myself as I watched her speed away. I called Jimmy to come pick me up, forgetting he stayed in Crockett.

"Where the hell have you been? Moria has been climbing the wall, looking for you. Remember, she has your van. Turn your damn cell on, call her, and get your asses up here. We got a show in six hours, and it takes almost four hours to get here."

I couldn't turn my cell on, it was in the Mustang.

I called Moira from the house and she was there in fifteen minutes. Red haired women sure have a way with words. Her ass chewing would have made a drill instructor blush. She got louder, her brogue got thicker, I even believe her hair got a deeper red. When she finally got done telling me what an inconsiderate asshole I was she threw her phone at me.

"Call your mother, she's been worried sick."

I immediately called Dottie.

"Hi Mom. Sorry I missed your call. How are you?"

She lit into me so hard I had to hold the phone away from my ear for about three minutes. Moira thought it was funny and that I deserved it. When she wound down I apologized.

"Mom, calm down. I left a message saying I wasn't answering the phone for twenty four hours. I had things to think about. Nothing is wrong, I'm fine, see you Sunday."

Remembering the advice I had just gotten, I told Moira where I had gone and why.

"I used to think I was a nice guy, you know? But now I'm not so sure. I know I need to work on being a better communicator, that's for sure."

She listened but didn't agree.

"You ARE a nice guy. You're emphatic, compassionate, and loving. Your brains are a little scrambled right now. At least you're getting help, I could never get my husband to do that after Erin died, and he, make that we, really could have used it. Maybe things would have turned out differently if we had."