“Yeah, I know Phil,” Z said. “We met a few times in the studio. He’s a bottom boy, like Dex. They wouldn’t be into each other in that way.”
“A bottom boy?” Jake asked.
“Are you sure you want to know what that means?” Z asked with a grin.
“I’m thinking you probably don’t,” Laura advised him.
“All right then,” Jake said. “Moving on to the next subject. What’s the word on that South American tour?”
Z chuckled and shook his head in amusement, but he let the subject drop. “It looks like the tour is going to happen. They love me down there, particularly in Brazil and Venezuela. The suits over at National are working on coming up with some kind of schedule and booking venues. If all goes well, we should be heading south just after the last leg of the US tour is done.”
Jake nodded sadly. That meant another three or four months away from Laura. And she would be in a place where it was a little more complicated for them to communicate or he to visit. “I hope it works out for you,” he said, almost sounding sincere. “I’ve never done the South American thing. There was talk about it with the last Intemperance tour, but ... well ... you know how that worked out.”
“Yeah,” Z said. “I heard about it. Drama and a shitshow all wrapped up in one. Is Tisdale really as big an asshole as he seems to be?”
“Sometimes an even bigger one,” Jake said. “Still, he and I went through a lot of shit together. It’s hard for me to hate him. I felt bad that his last album bombed like it did, but ... you know ... part of me was kind of glad too.”
“I heard that shit he put out,” Z said, shaking his head sadly. “It was astounding how unrefined those tracks were. I mean, the dude’s got incredible talent, but he should’ve let the engineers go to work on his shit. Even straight jazz cuts get more engineering than Tisdale’s shit had.”
“That was the downfall of that album,” Jake agreed. “He was always a hard-core traditionalist when it came to post-production. Even back in the good old days, before Darren’s botulism and Charlie’s tranny issues, we fought tooth and nail over every overdub, every double track, and every tweak of the levels. He basically just wanted to record a live cut in the studio and call that the tune.”
“Have you heard the new shit he’s put out?” asked Squiggle. “That road song they’ve been playing on the radio sounds pretty tight.”
“I’ve heard it,” Jake said, and he had, and had been fairly impressed with it. “It sounds like maybe he learned from his mistake—which is odd because learning from a mistake was never one of Matt’s strong points.”
The door to the locker room opened and Ron poked his head in. “The jazz ensemble has cleared the stage,” he said. “Our locals from the radio contests are being brought back right now.”
“All right,” Z said with a sigh. “I guess it’s time to get into character, huh?”
“Let’s do it,” Squiggle said, standing up.
Homer just scowled, but he stood as well.
“Time to go smile pretty for the locals,” Laura said, pulling herself up from Jake’s clutches.
“What about me?” Jake asked. “You want me to hang back here or go meet and greet with you?”
“Why don’t you hang back here?” Z said. “We don’t want anyone in the audience to know you’re here until you step out on that stage.”
“Sounds good,” Jake said.
“I’ll send someone to come get you right before stage time,” Ron said.
“I’ll be here,” Jake promised.
“I’ll see you out there,” Laura said, leaning down and giving him a big, juicy kiss on the mouth. She then whispered in his ear. “I can’t wait until after the show.”
“Me either, hon,” he told her. “Me either.”
Jake watched the show from the stage left area, peeking out through the access door as Bobby Z and company laid down their collection of smooth jazz. He paid particular attention to Laura, whose saxophone playing was required on every tune, unlike Squiggle and Sally, who got to sit out several. Laura played very well, hitting her notes with the expression and phrasing that came from being firmly in the touring groove. She looked incredibly cute in her dress and sneakers and had developed some pretty good showmanship, moving about on the stage now that they had gone to using a clip-on microphone to her horn instead of a fixed one on a mic stand. At one point, during the song Last to Go, she stood shoulder to shoulder between Squiggle and Sally as they blew out a lengthy harmonious outro to the tune. The three of them moved in near unison and then stood with hands clasped together and held high after the finale, giving each other warm looks as the applause washed over them.
She certainly seems to be having a good time doing this, Jake thought with a smile, remembering his first national tour, how it felt to know that you were playing well, that you were clicking with your bandmates, and that the audience was into you.
As the group launched into the tune Time to Talk—which meant South Island Blur would be the next one on the list—Jake felt the familiar nervousness of stage fright, which had been mildly simmering to this point, ramp up considerably. It was nothing even close to what he’d felt that first performance at D Street West back in Heritage, or that first performance in Bangor, Maine on the first national tour, but it was there all the same. It seemed that no matter how experienced one became at the game of performing, that anxiety of stepping out in front of the audience never quite went away.
As Time to Talk came to an end, one of the roadies suddenly appeared at Jake’s side. He was called Toadie, though no one had explained why, and he held Jake’s guitar in his hand. “You ready for this?” he barked into Jake’s ear.
“Ready as can be,” Jake said, removing his backstage pass and handing it over. He then took the guitar and slung it over his shoulder.
“Now remember,” Toadie said. “We’ve got your cord dangling from your mic stand. Just flip it over the hook to free it and plug in. All your knobs are exactly where you left them from the sound check.”
“Right!” Jake replied as the audience applauded the ending of the tune. Squiggle and Sally came trotting off the stage. Both of them clapped Jake on the shoulder as they passed and gave him a thumbs up.
“How is everyone doing out there tonight?” Z asked the audience. They cheered that they were doing pretty goddamned good.
“All right,” Z said, picking up his microphone out of the stand and standing up from his seat at the piano. He walked over to Laura and put his arm around her. “This is Laura Best blowing the sax for us tonight. How is she sounding out there?”
Another enthusiastic cheer erupted, a little louder this time, and Laura smiled at the audience.
“We call her ‘Teach’, because she used to be a teacher,” Z told the audience. “And some of you may know that she has kind of a famous boyfriend as well. You see, she used to play sessions for Celia Valdez and it is her fine playing that can heard on Celia’s album The Struggle—maybe some of you have heard her work there?”
Another cheer erupted. It seemed there were quite a few Celia Valdez fans out there.
“And that’s how Teach came to my attention when I found myself in need of a new saxophone player,” Z went on. “But, during her tenure with Celia Valdez, she also came into contact with Mr. Jake Kingsley, who was putting together a solo album of his own at the same time and in the same studio. Well, let’s just say that something clicked between Teach and Jake, and not only did they start dating each other, but she also laid down some smooth soprano sax for him on one of the cuts on his album, Can’t Keep Me Down. Anyone out there heard this album?”