Page 61 of The River in Spring
I’ve already taken the shoes off and had a bite to eat. The band is unusually quiet. 7:05. I hear a horn honk on the next street.
The screen beeps. Zoom call!
“Oh hell, get back here,” Deborah calls to the crew scattered across the room.
Tapping on the icon, we join the meeting. The face of Archangel appears. Wow. Michael Angelica is every bit as stunning as he comes across in pictures. The long curly hair, the pillowed lips, green eyes. He does kind of look angelic with a devilish twist.
“Hello, darlin’,” he says. “Sorry I’m late. You understand.”
It’s said in a stream of consciousness, as statement not a question.
I center and jump into the conversation. “No worries. Nice to meet you, Michael. Let me introduce the band. This is…
“No time, luv. I just want to say how much I dig Montana’s vibe. Your sound is different. Jimmy, brother you have a remarkable falsetto.”
“Thanks, man.”
“Each of you shine. So do your songs. Arthur played the latest one for me and filled me in on your history.”
“You’ve never seen us?”
“I’ve seen the YouTube videos. We need to get together and see if there’s anything there. You coming to Nashville?”
Tony breaks in the conversation. “Yeah. We will be there next week.”
“Good. I will be at the session with Arthur. I want to watch, listen, see what I can learn. Here’s your chance to impress. I’ll see you in Nashville. Do not bring any other people to the recording studio. I have to concentrate on the music. I don’t want to be making nice with your wives or husbands, or best friends. Do we have that straight?”
“Of course. See you in…”
The wordsMichael has left the meetingappear on the screen.
“WTF?” Tony says.
They wear frozen expressions, like if they move a finger, it will all disappear.
“Who gives a fuck? Do you realize what just happened?” Deborah says reanimating.
“I know! Not what I expected. But damn, it’s all good!” I say.
“He complimented my falsetto,” Jimmy adds under his breath.
We break out in wild abandon, complete with congratulatory cheek kisses and a few tears. I take the proper amount of time enjoying what I hope becomes one of the best days of my life.
Shit. Shit. Shit. I get out of the car and hand the key to the valet. It took thirty minutes to get through traffic.
“Thanks,” I say, anticipating being handed the ticket. Come on, guy!
I sprint toward the hotel entry. Almost four hours late. That’s the bottom line.
“Dove!”
I hear my name called as I pass through the doors. Van and the bridesmaid he is paired with are heading in my direction. His tie is untied, her updo is down, and I detect a bit of a problem with her walking straight.
“Your boyfriend isn’t here. You missed it, girl,” Van slightly slurs.
“You just missed the bride and groom too! They took off for the honeymoon,” the girl says.
“That’s what we should do,” Van says to the girl. “I mean have a honeymoon.”
