“This is a song for my friend, who doesn’t know what she wants,” he mumbled and then barreled into “Yellow Ledbetter.” I have to admit, Will choosing an Eddie Veddar Pearl Jam song was very apropos. Will was the rock-and-roll type I’d swooned over my entire life and I still wouldn’t give him the time of day. He knew me better than I knew myself. Will left the lyrics out; instead, he played a fifteen-minute instrumental version with his eyes closed. He was aggressive, but he played flawlessly. I was completely and utterly mesmerized watching him. Toward the end of the song he teased the audience with just one word, a pitch-perfect, lingering “oh” before the final guitar riff. He unplugged and gathered his things. People clapped but seemed dumbfounded that Will hadn’t sung and yet he was packing up to leave. The shorthaired girl wrote something in a notebook before she scooted out the door, never looking back. I spotted Jenny, who was shooting daggers at me.
“Why would you ask Will to play a song about an egomaniac guitarist who breaks up his band?”
An ashamed giggle escaped my mouth. “I didn’t think anyone would get it.”
Tyler walked up behind Jenny and put his arm around her. “Will and I are going to get a bite.” Will was already standing out on the street; I could see him cursing himself and acting like lunatic.
“Will you tell him I’m sorry?”
Tyler looked at me speculatively. “There was a record exec here to see Will sing. You know he’s been playing around town right?”
“God, I feel terrible.” And I meant it. I hadn’t realized. I thought it was just another girl there to swoon over him.
“It’s not all your fault, Mia. Will needs to have a thicker skin and get used to the fact that people are going to say things. He was doing really well, playing at little dives, and then when word got around that Will Ryan was something to see, he started booking shows under different names. There was The Wilburs, then Idio-Secret Agent Man, and then the last one was The Asshats. Every time he would gain a little following, he would change the name. He has a lot going on and he’s trying to figure things out. I know he really takes what you say to heart. He thinks you’re a brilliant musician.”
“Really?” I sighed. “I feel terrible—please tell him I’m sorry.” I walked away with a lump in my throat the size of a bus. I couldn’t look at Tyler and Jenny’s faces anymore. I hid in the back until everyone was gone and then I locked up and went home to bed.
A peace offering was needed, so the next day I bought Will a digital four-track recorder and left it on his bed with a note.
Will, I’m sorry about how I have behaved toward you lately. You are one of the most talented people I know and I won’t get in the way of that again. I care about you and I want us to be friends. Please accept this gift so you can continue making that beautiful music and know that this is your home too. I promise to respect that.
Later that day, Will and I ran into each other on the street. He had a carefree look about him. “Hey, Roomy! Thanks for the four-track and your sweet note, it means a lot.” He gave me a big bear hug. “I want to jam with you soon. I have some ideas for a couple of songs.”
“I would love that, Will.” I felt unreasonably happy. I was relieved almost to the point of tears that he was back to himself.
“I have to work tonight, but I’ll see you at the party tomorrow.” He gave me another hug.
“Okay, I’ll see you.” When he walked away I heard him call to Sheil, who he spotted standing farther down the street. I looked back; Sheil was dressed in a beautiful orange, red, and black sari. She was a stunning, exotic beauty. Will ran toward her to catch up. I had introduced Will to Sheil one day in the café but they seemed more familiar as he jogged toward her. It gave me an uneasy feeling.
Jenny and I spent the entire day Saturday making food and decorating Kell’s for her engagement party. We hung Chinese lanterns and twinkle lights everywhere. We closed the café to the public and went back to my apartment to get ready. I decided to live on the edge and wear a super short, all-black shift. Jenny looked angelic in a knee-length, flowing white dress. Robert met us at the apartment. He wore the typical “I’m a banker” suit. He eyed my dress dismissively.
“Do you like?”
“Yeah,” he said. “It’s interesting.”
“Okay, then. Let’s head over.”`
We walked over to Kell’s. Martha was there along with Seth, our friend from the poetry group who was going to deejay the party. We put some last-minute touches on the food and decorations before guests started arriving. I introduced Robert to everyone, but at times he seemed disinterested or preoccupied with his phone. Seth played wonderful big-band music while the champagne flowed. When Will arrived, I saw him shake Robert’s hand and then he hugged Jenny and Tyler before making his way toward me.
“Hey, you look hot,” he said as he hugged me around my shoulders.
He was wearing black pin-striped suit pants with his belt and wallet chain and a black, short-sleeved dress shirt. Black on black and smelled divine. I inhaled deeply as he hugged me.
“So do you.” I laughed shyly. “I mean you look handsome.”