CJ readjusted his seat and raised his sticks. “Let’s start with “Window”.”
I threw my head back in hard laughter, and Bo and Ember followed. Guster was the least CJ-like band on the planet. He often sat out last summer when we’d fool around with some of their songs. Why he’d choose that song, especially when Ember had just royally pissed him off, was confusing at best.
“Fuck you guys. Are you in or not? You start vocals, Ember, and Bo, can you back off and I’ll take over second vocals? It will sound better that way.” He cleared his throat and held his sticks out. “What?”
“Nothing,” we all answered at once. Nothing as in Ember and CJ had never sung together, not to mention I hadn’t heard CJ sing in years. He could, and well, but he never did.
Bo and I tuned quickly and Ember set her stool aside and let her hair down. She shifted some mics around and moved one back to CJ, who just nodded at her.
Georgia hopped back up on stage, taking hold of the mic in front of me in order to announce us. As the applause rose, I leaned over and whispered in her ear, “How’d you do that?”
“Do what?” she whispered back playfully. She smelled like basil, or mint, or something. I liked that she didn’t always smell the same.
“Calm the beast.” I tilted my head to the back of the stage. CJ’s quick temper was rarely easily quelled.
She shrugged. “He’s not that complicated.” Georgia turned on her heels and with a skip-step was off the stage and back into the crowd, a fourth tattoo peeking from the bottom of her shirt. Rather than head down to the lowest part of her back, like tattoos on the other girls in the bar, hers seemed to go up further. It looked like there were little feet, or leaves, dancing up her spine.
Bo spoke his thanks to the crowd and counted us off. He strummed the up-tempo intro, and as soon as I joined in, my eyes fell on Georgia. She’d just set drinks in front of a table of girls, and she turned toward the stage, her empty tray hanging loosely by her side. Ember entered the song beautifully, and Georgia’s eyes moved to her, a faraway smile brushing her lips.
As CJ’s entrance neared, I felt myself holding my breath. Ember tensed, too. My eyes, though, stayed on the way Georgia held on to stillness in the middle of the bustling crowd. My fiddle hung by my side during those measures, but I’d have given anything to be able to hide behind it as I watched Georgia take in CJ’s voice. He was good. His tone was as solid as I remembered, just a hint of rasp creeping in behind his cigarette addiction.
Ember sang with her eyes closed a lot, so I couldn’t even get her visual reaction to the emotions Georgia shot through her eyes. I almost missed my entrance with CJ. Just as I pulled the bow across the strings, someone from behind the bar shouted to Georiga, causing her to jump. She turned quickly, but I didn’t miss the sight of her tattooed finger sliding underneath her heavily made-up eye as she bobbed and weaved through the crowd.
What the hell?
I followed her trail to where a guy had called out her name. I’d assumed he was someone working there, with the authority he’d put into his voice, but he was sitting on the patron side of the bar. I recognized him from the night before. He seemed to be a regular here, but she certainly wasn’t happy about his presence. She stood with the empty tray hugged to her body, her head tilted to the side. Before I could judge their relationship further, CJ picked up the tempo of the song. I followed, but not without turning around to see if he was aware of what he was doing.
He was. Looking around me toward the bar, CJ’s forehead scrunched and his nostrils flared. Something was definitely weird. A few seconds sooner than it should have been, the song was over and CJ was on his feet.
Ember stepped in front of him. “CJ, that was great. I’m sorry about—”
“Yeah, yeah,” he cut her off, “it’s fine, just ... do the next song without me, okay? “Foolish Games” again or some other folksy bullshit that doesn’t need me, K?”
“Uh, y-yeah, sure...” Ember trailed off in an almost-daze, looking back at Bo. “Does that keyboard work?”
As they worked on the mechanics of the next song, I grabbed CJ’s arm. Now, even though he’s my height, and I’m older, CJ still had about twice the distance between his shoulders as I did. He wasn’t heavy, per se, but I wouldn’t stand in his way if he were running down the sidewalk. I had our childhood on my side, though, when I stopped him. I’d been like an older brother to him, and more times than not, he would at least listen to me for a few seconds before doing whatever the hell it was he wanted to anyway. Given the fury framing his eyes, I had to give it a shot.
“What the hell, man...” I made sure he was looking directly in my eyes as I spoke. If he wasn’t, he likely wasn’t hearing me.