AT 29 (82 page)

***

Sister Marie Bonaventuri was released from rehab not quite fully recovered, but far from the frightening debilitation that had many fearing for her survival. She walked with a cane, slowly, but able to use both legs with unequal strength. The daily routine with all manner of resistance tools, had built up her muscles so that she could withstand the routine demands of movement; getting dressed, reaching for objects, writing, even breaking a fall if it should happen. Relearning how to speak was, for the nun, the most difficult task. Her impatience was an impediment. She could think far faster than her mouth could form words. Consequently, her brain was several sentences ahead of her quivering lips. The frustration was overwhelming. Still, the therapists decided it would be better for her to be back at the orphanage where she would be most contented. Eventually, she would learn to slow down. The words would come better. Her physical capacities would catch up to her mental ones. All in all, everyone was delighted with her progress, especially Les, who welcomed her back with open arms.

Each morning the two administrators met for an hour. Les reviewed the financials together with the routine matters that occupied the daily running of the orphanage. She waited patiently as Sister Marie laboriously formed words into sentences, questions that clarified details. The arcane issue that hovered, unaddressed, was finally broached three weeks after the nun's return. Sister Marie approached it in a roundabout way.

“You have done well in my absence.”

“I didn't want you to worry.”

“Fanny told me about the gala.”

Les sat up in her chair, remembering the divorced Olympic skier turned entrepreneur who aided her during the auction. “I was nervous without you. She helped me get things under control.”

“Jim Buckman came to be with you? All the way from America?”

“Yes.”

Sister Marie absently arranged some items on her desk. “I came to a decision in the hospital. Inevitable, I'm afraid.” Les did not respond, preferring to let her mentor continue. “Fanny is very direct. I admire that in her. She tells me there is something special between you and Jim. Is that true?”

“Yes, Sister.”

“Are you in love with him?”

“Yes.” There was no other way to answer.

“Forgive me if it seems that I'm prying. I have to consider what's best for Saint Malachy's. And, he is in love with you?”

“I believe he is, yes.”

“Has he told you that he loves you?”

“Yes.”

Sister Marie paused for a moment, eyeing Les. “You are unsure?”

“He's so far away.”

“Fanny told me about the awards he received. Now, he's touring in America?”

“Yes. Nigel is touring, too. His album is doing quite well.”

“I'd like to listen to it.”

“I have it in my office. I'll bring it to you later.”

Sister Marie formed a smile. “Finally, he's doing something worthwhile.”

“Jimmy's songs helped him.”

“Indeed. He is a gifted young man. Have the two of you made any plans?”

“I don't know what you mean?” Les was only slightly ashamed of her white lie.

“The distance. Have you decided how to deal with it?”

“It's not settled. It will be months before we will see each other again.”

“Too soon to think of marriage I suppose.”

“We've been together only a few times.”

“Long enough to believe you're in love, but unsure of what comes next. Have you considered leaving Saint Malachy's so the two of you can be together?”

“He suggested it. I said no.”

“May I ask why?”

“My life is here. His is there.”

Sister Marie didn't speak for an uncomfortably long period. She looked around her office then back at Les, who was lost in thoughts of her own.

“I've decided that my turn at the helm of Saint Malachy's must end.”

Les looked up in surprise. “You're getting better everyday.”

“Yes dear, thank the Lord, but I will never be as I was. I struggle to speak. The climb up the stairs to this office is exhausting.”

“We can make arrangements so you don't have to use the stairs.”

“Oh, that's minor. It isn't what I mean. It's time Saint Malachy's had a younger person in charge. The day-to-day responsibilities will be too much for me. Do you understand what I am saying?”

“You want me to take your place.”

“Yes. To carry on as you have done in my absence. I see myself as your advisor.”

Les expected this someday. It was no secret between them. One day, when the time was right, Sister Marie had told her that she would turn the reins over. Les just didn't think it would come so soon.

“The boys need you.”

“That's the most pressing reason why you must assume my position. They need someone who not only sees to their practical needs, but also their individual nurturing as well. I can no longer do that. That's why I asked about your relationship with Jim.” She paused again. I know little about love between a man and a woman. It's not something that has affected my life. In many ways, that has been a blessing. I have been free to devote myself to Saint Malachy's.”

“I love the boys.”

“Yes, that has always been evident. Still, it would be easier for you if Jim were here. Fewer distractions, perhaps more peace in your heart.” She smiled. “Yes, I can see
it. He's on your mind constantly. You worry about him, wonder what's happening in his life.”

“Sister…”

“It's perfectly natural. If you chose to be with him I would understand. In the end, we must each follow our own path. It is very hard to balance competing needs.”

“I need to be here.”

“And, when his tour ends? What will you do?”

Les hesitated. “That depends on him. I will stay here.”

“Then it's settled. Tomorrow, you officially take my place.”

***

As the concerts evolved, each of the players took turns soloing. Jimmy remained the focal point, but Sonny expanded his role, showing increasing expertise on his Stratocaster and delighting his growing fan base. Ted and Melinda dueled expertly on their instruments with Ted bringing his other skills to fore on the flute and piccolo. Melinda had a good voice. Jimmy encouraged her to sing whenever the opportunity emerged. Eugene was content to back them on bass.

Only Benson was left out of the mix. He continued to scheme for the crowd's attention, wearing his top hat and often rising from his obscurity behind the drums. He played well, but he chafed in his role, merely backing the others as they wowed the audience with their individual skills.

“What gives?” he demanded between sets during one of the concerts.

“What do you mean?”

“When did you decide to give them so much play?”

“It works well. I'm just mixing things up. That's all.”

“What about me?”

“What about you?”

“I want some solo time, too.”

“On the drums? How does that fit?”

“I don't know. You're the genius.”

“It won't work.”

“Sure it will. Maybe not pounding away, I can sing something.”

“You never sang before.”

Benson gave Jimmy an angry look. “Because you never wrote anything for me.”

“I didn't write for the others, either.”

“You wrote that Australian guy's whole album.”

“Three songs. The rest were collaborations. Sonny and the others developed their pieces on their own.”

“Then I need to write something for myself?”

“Forget it. Things are fine the way they are.”

“Not for me. I want a bigger role.” The drummer strode off in a huff.

Les was seething as she waited for the phone to ring. Alice's latest article was spread open on her desk. Her usual cordiality was replaced by a sharp “What's going on?”

“Nothing. Why?”

“Girls draped all over you?”

Jimmy smiled with a measure of satisfaction on the other end of the line. “Jealous?”

Les calmed down. “That depends on your answer.”

“It's only publicity. Believe me, the only one I think about is you.”

“You can't sing your songs without a bunch of women hanging around?”

“The promoters hire them to make it look like it's all a big party. It sells tickets.”

“You don't have to play along. Your music sells the tickets.”

“Don't worry. I pose for some pictures. Nothing more.”

She wasn't satisfied, but she let it go. “Where are you?”

“Colorado Springs.”

“How's it going?”

“Good. Drummer's getting a bit edgy, but that goes with the territory. Listen, I've got some news. Cindy is getting married to McCabe in June.”

“I know.”

Jimmy was caught off guard. “How?”

“She told me?”

“When?”

“We alternate calls once a week. Girl talk. She's ecstatic.”

“I didn't know you were so close.”

“What did you expect after she saved my life at the Grammy Awards?”

“Then you're coming?”

“I don't know, Jimmy. I'm so busy here.”

“She must have asked you to come.”

“She's sending an invitation. We'll see.” She skirted over his hurt tone, still unsure after seeing all the women hanging over her love. “I have news, too. Sister Marie has asked me to take over Saint Malachy's. I'm taking her place.” Jimmy went silent on the other end. Les continued. “She's can't do it anymore.”

“Permanent?”

“She'll consult and advise, but, yes, permanent.” More silence. “Jimmy?”

“What does this mean for us?”

This time Les went silent as she tried to formulate a satisfactory answer. She loved him. She wanted to be with him. She could tell him that, but it wouldn't be the whole truth. She feared his lifestyle. The pictures accompanying Alice's articles stoked her insecurity. She feared committing to a man she could lose. She wanted him. She couldn't bear sharing him with other women no matter how innocent the circumstance. Deep-seated apprehension prevented her from plunging headlong into the relationship they both wanted. She sensed that she would be left alone one day if she did.

“Maybe after your tour we can make some plans.”

“It sounds like you've already made the decision for both of us.”

“You have your singing and I have my job. What do you want me to do? Follow you around? Give up my life so you can have yours?”

“We've been through this before.”

“Yes, and we still don't know.”

“I know. Come to the wedding. We need to see each other.”

Benson went off the rails in Colorado. It was inevitable from Jimmy's point of view. The moment his drummer began to lobby for a bigger role, he expected an
escalating set of tantrums. It started with the Denver concert. Benson directed Chase to re-arrange the stage. Instead of the standard placements, Benson had his drums positioned out front in place of Melinda's keyboards, which were put, without prior approval, to the rear where the drums should have been.

“Put them back.” Jimmy faced off with Chase.

“Benson wants them here.”

“He doesn't call the shots. I do.”

Chase smiled derisively. “I'll wait until he gets here.”

Jimmy moved closer to the roadie. “Move them now or draw your last paycheck.”

Chase didn't back down and he didn't move. Benson strolled onto the stage with Winfield. “How do you like the new set-up?”

Jimmy ignored him, turning instead, to address Winfield. “I want the drums back where they belong, now.”

Winfield looked at Chase. “Do what he says.”

Benson took a seat behind the drums. “I like them here. People can see me.”

Jimmy nodded toward Chase. “Get it done.” Then he began to walk away.

Benson called out after him. “Of course, if I had a song to sing…”

Jimmy didn't look back. Over his shoulder he said, “My show, my rules.”

It happened again in Cheyenne, then again in Boise. Each time, Jimmy went straight to Winfield who, with increasing reluctance, intervened. Everyone knew that Winfield was spending most of his off time with the drummer and his road crew friend. Meanwhile, Benson became more belligerent, threatening to jump into some of Jimmy's songs uninvited.

“I deserve a shot at the glory, too. All I want is a few lines.”

In Seattle, Winfield came to Jimmy's suite. “You need to make peace with him.”

“We don't need him in the mix.” Jimmy saw more than he wanted to see in Winfield's bloodshot eyes. You're partying too hard.”

“Don't worry about me. You need to pull your band together.”

“Everybody's satisfied. He's the only one making problems.”

“You can fit him in somewhere. Why not give him a little time?”

“We get together in my suite between gigs. He's never shown once.”

“Just give him something. Can you do that?”

“I want Chase gone.”

“Now, wait a minute…”

“He's trouble. I don't want him around anymore.”

“Look, he's Benson's friend, that's all. Everything will be cleared up if you let Benson have some show time. It's not asking so much. Here's what I'll do. When we get our break for McCabe's wedding I'll sit them both down and straighten everything out. Meantime, you compromise a little bit.”

Jimmy worked up a twist on
Lulu
, adding some chords and giving Benson the opening verses. They practiced before the Seattle show. Benson wanted more, but didn't press. Chase smirked at Jimmy from offstage.

***

The Memorial Day concert in Sacramento marked the end of Jimmy's northern circuit. Nigel, who was now touring solo with his band, concluded his route through the
heartland with a series of concerts in Wichita, Lincoln and Omaha. Rebellion had two shows in Albuquerque and Phoenix. All were sellouts.