said all I needed to last time. Let’s just get on with it.
………………………
Damn, damn, damn.
What the hell is so wrong with me that I can’t keep a woman?
I think I’m a good person. I’m not cruel to people or animals. I pay my bills, donate time and money to charities, help my friends when they need it. When I decide to love someone I do it heart and soul.
Apparently that’s not enough.
I did what any mature adult male would do under the circumstances. I cried to my Mom.
Dottie knew something was wrong the second she saw me.
“What’s wrong? Is something wrong with Sammi or your friends? You look lost.”
I told her the whole miserable tale. At first she was sympathetic, then she got angry.
“The nerve of that bitch! I’m gonna chew her a new ass when I see her.”
It almost made me laugh. Mom didn’t use profanity, and I never heard her say an ill word about anyone.
“Don’t bother. I’ll take care of it. She’s history. I’m just glad I found out before we tied the knot. I want payback, I just need to figure out how.”
Mom brought up a good point.
“She’s lived with you for almost a year. You need to check with your lawyer for legal ramifications,
I don’t know if palimony could come into play. Be careful, son. You don’t want to lose anything over this.”
Her advice was good, as usual.
……………………..
My lawyer was an old college friend. He was pre-law while I knew him, and heavily into music. He could even play, trombone. Not a rock and roll mainstay, but he was pretty good.
“You should be okay. All she has contributed seems to be paying the power bill and splitting the groceries. She didn’t help with the mortgage, you don’t have one. Same with car payments. Judging from the pay stub you brought me, she is capable of paying her own bills. Unless she has some agreement in writing, you’re safe.”
“You did furnish her a car, but from what you tell me, you made it pretty plain that the car was an investment and subject to be sold anytime.
Thanks to your almost anal retentive habit of saving receipts, you can even prove that you maintained her car for awhile. Just don’t do anything stupid that would open you to litigation and you’ll be fine.”
“My best advice? Move her out fast, change the locks, and get on with your life. If she makes any noise refer her to me. That restaurant is part of a chain, corporations don’t like scandals or bad publicity. Offer to help set her up in an apartment for old times sake if she doesn’t make waves. It’ll be cheaper than my fee if she tries something, and it’ll look good on paper.”
Then he leaned back and grinned.
“Look at the bright side. Now that you’re a free agent, you can start chasing that hot woman in your band.”
I sighed.
“The only drawback to that plan is her husband, and I don’t break up marriages.”
“Damn Wiley, your life sucks, doesn’t it?”
Despite his smile I heard the ring of truth. I agreed with him.
“Yeah, pretty much.”
……………………
On top of everything else, business wise I was extremely busy. We were booked solid for weeks, right up until the week of the charity concert.
We had been meeting, working up playlists, and rehearsing on Sundays. We had some pretty good discussions, for lack of a better word, over the playlist. Opinions were loud, definite and hard to negotiate. Most of the time I had headaches trying to play ringmaster.
We were doing what most bar bands fantasize about, playing what we wanted for a large audience.
Phil Specter was pretty much a miserable human being judging from the articles I had read about him, but there is no doubt that as a music producer he was a genius.
His trademark ‘Wall Of Sound’ was responsible for many hits in the sixties. We were trying to emulate that. Horns, strings, layered musicians. the whole ball of wax.
The crowd we expected to attract would be over thirty, more like over forty, and we wanted to play music they were familiar with. If they were happy they were much more likely to donate, and that was why we were there.
The chamber quartet recruited most of the college to help. The broadcast journalism students, the business students, and others got their professors to treat it like an extra credit, real world work experience project.
I had a budget to play with, mostly for advertising. All labor was voluntary. The broadcast students quickly became sound, lighting, and stage crew. They arranged for the whole thing to be broadcast on local access on a one day delay, with the 800 number for contributions flashing constantly.
The business students were in charge of advertising and promotion. All the music majors wanted involved, but we had all the musicians we needed, and they couldn’t match our schedules.
I knew I had to do something about Sammi. I avoided her, using the benefit as an excuse. It helped that we had a two week gig up in Crockett, playing at a bar called The Black Dog.
Crockett was a college town, Mountain State University, but the Dog was more of a hangout for locals. We were well known, so there was an influx of college students. Most got along, but they had some huge bouncers, just in case.
Jimmy, Al, and especially Moira could tell something was off. When they asked I told them it was personal stuff I needed to work through. and they left me alone.
We didn’t play on Monday and Tuesday, so Jim, Al, his boyfriend, and Crystal went sightseeing. The kids were at the grandparents, giving Jim and Crystal a little alone time.
Crystal was hinting around that she would like to see him settle down to a steady job. He had gotten laid off, as had so many others, and money was tight. They also thought Crystal may be pregnant again. Things were a little tense.
Moira hadn’t mentioned her husband at all for a month, but she still wore the rings. Apparently he traveled a good bit and they were used to being apart. When I told them I was going back home to work on the benefit, she wanted to come along to help, and check on her house.
The ride was quiet, each absorbed in personal thoughts. When we hit town I surprised her by going to my office instead of the house.
“Aren’t you going home first?” She asked in surprise.
“Not right now, I’ve got too much to do and this is where my notes are. Come pick me up in a couple of hours, okay?”
She just looked at me.
“I know you, Wiley, better than you think. Whatever you have going on, when you decide to tell someone, I’d like to be that person. You’re not Smilin’ Wiley anymore, and I miss him.”
After the emotional goodbye we had at the festival back in July, we had avoided touching each other, so I was taken aback when she kissed my cheek.
“You’re a good man, Wiley” was all she said before she pulled off.
The Smilin’ Wiley Orchestra. That was the name they voted to use. It was a combination of the fact that I was pretty much responsible for the whole ball of wax, and I enjoyed it so much I had a permanent smile on my face.