The drums, however, had been stored lovingly, in cases in the driest part of the basement. The guy asked me if I was interested in them as a possible trade. We looked them over pretty good, they had been stored as long as the guitar. They had belonged to his brother, and he told him to get rid of them. I didn’t have anything I wanted to trade, but I bought them out right for three hundred. I could play, just barely.
Jimmy was like a kid at Christmas. He started uncasing and setting up immediately. Moira came up when we were half done. I had been listening to her, muscle memory must have held up, I could hear the improvement, even in the short time she played.
“I want this one.” She still had it in her hands.
“You can’t have that one, it’s mine and not for sale.”
She didn’t like being told no.
“Come on, everything has a price. I can afford it, my husband will just laugh and write you a check.”
I shot her down pretty quick.
“Listen to me. This… guitar… is… not… for… sale. Did I say it slow enough for you to understand? I’ll look around and try to find you one like it if you want, it shouldn’t take long. Or you can go on all kinds of websites and find it yourself pretty quick.”
She was not used to being told no was pretty obvious. She actually stamped her foot.
“I’ll give you twice what it’s worth. Please?”
I thought it was kind of funny. Jimmy was actually laughing.
“Give it up Sis. I know from experience when he says no it really means no. He’s just as stubborn and headstrong as you are.”
I could see her disappointment and felt bad for her. I did something totally out of character for me.
“Tell you what. I’ll loan you the guitar until we can find you one. That way you can practice. How’s that for a compromise?”
She thought about it for awhile, then smiled. I could almost see the gears turning in her head. If she got her hands on it, I was never going to get it back. In my mind, I was just as sure she would never keep it.
“All right, do you have an amp to go with it?”
I did, but she wasn’t getting it.
“No, but you can pick up a little practice amp anywhere. Get Jimmy to run you by any music store. You can be playing by tonight. I expect you to take care of it.”
She smiled. “I’ll take care of it like it was mine.”
“No, take care of it like it doesn’t belong to you, and the guy who loaned it could be a real asshole if it gets damaged. Clear?”
There was a little tightening around her eyes, she really did have a temper. “Clear” she said, reluctantly.
“Great. Come on Clapton, I’ll get you the case.”
……………………
She practiced, hard. Jimmy said he didn’t think it left her hands while she was awake for days.
Three weeks went by. I found a Squire similar to mine for a good price and bought it with Moira in mind. Jimmie brought her over to look at it. It was another Sunday, Sammi was working. She said it would be the last time, the girl everyone was filling in for would be back from maternity leave the next week.
I had finished setting up the drum kit, and Jimmy immediately went to it. Some of the heads had to be replaced and he was tuning it for me.
She played the guitar for a few minutes.
“It’s nice, but I don’t like it.”
This surprised me, I thought she would love it.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing, exactly. But it doesn’t play as well as yours, and to be honest, I don’t like the color.”
It didn’t play as well as mine because it was factory set. I had a man I used to set up my guitars. For comparison, there’s nothing wrong with a factory set up, but if you get a pro to set one up, it’s like going from a V6 Mustang to one of those monster models with the turbo charged V8’s.
The guy I used was trained and licensed by Fender. You could buy a Stratocaster off the shelf in his shop for three or four hundred, or he would build you one for about eleven. It was worth the price difference. He did every guitar I owned.
And she didn’t like the color? What a womanly reason for not liking something.
“Why don’t you keep this one and sell me your old one? Everybody wins.”
“Because I don’t like this as well as mine. Mine has been professionally set up, that’s the difference you feel. I can have this one done the same way, if you like.”
“Would that change the color?”
“No, of course not.”
“Then I don’t want it.”
Arrgh! This woman was irritating.
“Well then, we’ll keep looking. I can still sell this one and make a profit.”
She seemed surprised.
“Why don’t you keep it, if all it needs is setting up?”
“Because it doesn’t feel as good to me as mine. Besides, the color sucks.”
She looked at me oddly for a second, then grinned.
“Then I guess we both have good taste, huh?”
We were just standing there, smiling, when Jimmy interrupted.
“Hey guys, I got the drums done. Let’s stress test this sucker.”
She plugged the ‘ugly’ Squire back in and I grabbed my Dan Armstrong, and we jammed for about two hours. The girl could rock out, and had some pretty decent licks.
Finally we stopped. Her face was glowing.
“Darn, I forgot how good this feels. Can we do it again next week?”
I loved her passion.
“Not next Sunday, I have plans with my girlfriend. But if you want, give me a call the first of the week. I’m usually free in the mornings.”
Jimmy had a regular job and couldn’t do weekday mornings, so I thought the idea was dead. Wrong as usual.
“How about Wednesday? I don’t work and can come any day, usually.”
We agreed to meet at the office at ten, and they left.
Jimmy called me that night to thank me for helping her.
“Thanks, Wiley. Sis has been in a rut lately, this might be just what she needs to get her going again. It’s nice to see her smiling again.”
There again, something wasn’t being said, but I figured if they wanted me to know they would tell me eventually.
Monday and Tuesday I spent with Sammi, reconnecting. She had been working almost non stop for about three months, but were back at full staff now.
She made me think she was growing up to be a real, responsible adult. Her overtime was used to pay next quarters’ tuition, with a little left over for a car fund. I was very proud.
………………….
Moira called twice to make sure I would play with her. Sammi answered the first time and I got the third degree.
“Who is she?”
“Jimmy’s sister. She wants an old Squire and I’m trying to find her one.”
“Is that why she’s coming over?”
“Not Wednesday. We’re just going to play, I promised to help her practice.”
“Why can’t she practice on her own?”
“She does, but sometimes if you’re playing with someone else it helps.”
“Is she pretty?”
I knew I had to tread carefully here.
“Yes, she is. She’s also Jimmy’s sister and married. If you’re uncomfortable, why don’t you come with me next time? I know you have to work, it’s kind of why I chose Wednesday this time, but I can do it any day.”
Sammi had been with me a few times when I was showing a guitar, and she knew I had a habit of playing with other people on occasion. She also knew how bored she got while she waited for me.
“No, I don’t think so. But you better be a good boy, it would be hard to play with broken fingers.”
She didn’t look like she was kidding.
Moira was a bundle of energy. We played old stuff, simple tunes mostly. I loved to watch her, fingers flying over the strings while she had a half smile on her face, concentrating. It was very sensual.
She was getting her licks back quickly. She was very good, one of the best I had ever seen. I told her so.
It seemed to embarrass her. I asked her why she quit playing.
“I got married, and other things took priority. But I missed it. I’m glad I met you Wiley. I think Jimmy had this in mind when he brought you over.”
This made me slightly uncomfortable, but what I said next actually made her flush.
“I’m glad I met you, too. You’re a really good guitarist and damn easy to look at. That combination is hard to find.”
She flushed, looked down, then looked back up and grinned at me. Without saying another word she hit a power chord and we were playing again.
Before she left she asked me what I was listening to when she came in. It was Warren Haynes, his “Covers” CDs. It was actually a protracted jam with different people while he tested new bass players for his band Government Mule. I loaned them to her.
Two or three weeks went by. It was Saturday, and I was meeting a man interested in the new Squire. He looked at it and we agreed on a price. I made nine hundred off it.
He was just leaving when Jim and Moira dropped by.
“Hi, guys. What’s up?”
“Nothing much. Thought we would ride over to The Guitar Shop, Moira want to play one of his guitars. She can’t find anything she likes more than your Squire, so she’s thinking about a new one.”
I said I would love too, Sammi was at work, and it was our weekend off from the band.
We decided early on to take a weekend off every couple of months. It made the spouses happy and kept us from getting burned out. I could usually catch work with someone else if I wanted. This time, I had decided to just hang out.