“Celia Valdez?” Jim asked. As of yet, none of the members of Brainwash had met her, though she was one of their bosses.
“That’s right,” Laura said. “She’s the reason that Jake and I met in the first place. And she’s been a really good friend and mentor to me ever since. She’s going to be my maid of honor.”
“That’s really cool,” Jim said, seemingly in awe that he was talking to someone who was going to have Celia Valdez as her maid of honor. The band was still trying to get used to the fact that they were actually living with and working for celebrities.
The subject of Jake’s proposal and the upcoming wedding passed on by as the musicians began talking about music and the making of it once again. Jake was grateful. Whenever the issue of his proposal and how Laura had answered him that fateful night came up, it always made him feel a little awkward. Not because what she had told him had been shocking—though it had been—and not because he was ashamed of or upset with what Laura had done—he was not—but because attempting to explain the issue to anyone was simply out of the question. It was a very private thing, something that no one who was not directly involved needed to know about. Laura had told him that Celia knew her secret (which meant a better-than-even chance that Greg knew as well), and Jake now knew, and, of course, Bobby Z and his band and a few of the roadies and security guys knew, but aside from that, Laura’s experimentation with alternate sexual practices (as Nerdly would have termed it, had he known about them) was being kept well under wraps.
Which was not to say that Jake didn’t think about what she had told him, what she had described to him, endlessly.
He was thinking about that conversation now, in fact, as Jim and Steph took turns narrating their story of the first gig that Brainwash had ever played.
“I want to say yes, Jake,” she had told him that night after he proposed. “I really do. I love you and I’d love to be your wife. Oh my God ... I can’t believe this is happening!”
“Uh ... I’m not sure here,” Jake said. “Did you just say yes?”
She sighed. “I didn’t,” she said. “I said I want to say yes.”
“But ... but you can’t?”
“Oh wow,” she said, shaking her head a little. “Before I answer you ... well ... there’s something I need to tell you first.”
“What is it?” he asked. This had definitely become a bit awkward.
“Well, it’s about something that I ... that I did out on tour. It might change the way you feel about me.”
“Something you did out on tour?” What the hell are we talking about here?
“I should have told you a long time ago, but I didn’t know you were going to propose to me. Oh my God, what a mess!”
“What is it, hon?” he asked. “What did you do?”
“I ... I ... well ... it’s complicated,” she said, her face now looking miserable, as if she were about to start crying.
“Complicated,” Jake repeated slowly. “Are you trying to tell me that you ... were ... uh ... unfaithful to me out on the road?” Like I have any place judging her for that, his mind reminded him.
“No!” she barked immediately. “I wasn’t unfaithful. I didn’t cheat on you ... well ... not in the strict sense of the word anyway.”
“That’s not exactly a clear and concise answer,” Jake told her.
“No,” she said with a sigh. “It really isn’t. This is kind of hard to spit out, Jake.”
“So it seems. How about you just start at the beginning and tell me what’s going on?”
She nodded. “All right,” she said. “Here goes. I was really ... you know ... lonely out on the road. Lonely and sexually frustrated. I really missed having sex with you, Jake. I missed it a lot.”
“Yeah,” Jake said. “I was in the same boat back here, remember?” Except for that one night in Portland, that overly-helpful part of his mind reminded him.
“I know you were,” she said. “And I’m not trying to justify anything ... not really anyway. I’m just trying to give you an idea of my state of mind. I was horny all the time. I got into ... you know ... pleasuring myself as kind of a release valve, but even that didn’t seem to relieve the pressure after a while. You can only ... uh ... paddle the pink canoe so much, right?”
“Paddle the pink canoe?” Jake asked, grinning. “I’ve never heard it called that before.”
“That was Celia’s term for it,” Laura said. “She had a few others too.”
“Celia?” Jake asked. “What does she have to do with this?”
“I told her about ... about what I’m about to tell you,” she said. “It was that night we went shopping together and got drunk, remember?”
“I remember,” Jake said instantly. The same night that Greg reported Celia developing a sudden interest in... Holy shit! What are we talking about here?
“I needed to talk to someone about this, Jake. The guilt and the shame were getting to me. And Celia was there, and she listened to me, gave me good advice even ... like the advice that I should tell you what I’m about to tell you.”
“Okay,” Jake said. “You certainly have my attention now. You were horny and paddling the pink canoe was no longer doing it for you. Then what?”
“Well ... as the horniness grew, I began to have some ... well ... some impure thoughts about Squiggle.”
“Squiggle?” Jake said, his brow furrowing a bit. “You mean the trombone player?”
“Yeah,” she said. “There was a little bit of chemistry between us, I won’t deny that. And Squiggle let it be known ... you know ... that if I wanted to do anything with him ... he would be up for it.”
“He hit on you?” Jake said. I knew there was something between the those two! I fucking knew it!
“Not in any overt way,” Laura said. “And we never touched each other, Jake. Squiggle and I did not do anything ... you know ... physical with each other. I was just trying to explain my state of mind. I was afraid that if I didn’t get my ... my horniness under control, that I might start thinking about doing something with him. And I didn’t want that, Jake. I didn’t want it then and I don’t want it now.”
“Okay,” Jake said. “So, you didn’t get it on with Squiggle?”
“No,” she said. “Absolutely not. Nor did I get it on with any other member of the band or the road crew or any other male while I was out on the road. I want you to know that, Jake.”
“Okay,” Jake said. “I believe you.” And he did, but he was still unsure just where she was heading with this story.
“Having said that,” Laura said softly. “I did find a way to take care of that horniness. I just kind of stumbled across it one night. That’s what I need to tell you about.”
“I’m still listening.”
“It was after the show in La Paz,” she said. “I’d just finished my shower and I went back into the dressing room to grab a little something to eat, take a few hits of some pot, and have a glass of wine. Normal routine stuff. Ron had brought back some groupies for those band members who wanted them. Z, like always, had a couple of good-looking guys for himself. Squiggle was sitting out the groupies that night. Sally and Homer and Groove each had some slut they were planning to take back to the hotel. Anyway, as we’re sitting there, eating and smoking and drinking, Homer and his groupie start groping each other there on the couch. He actually slid his hands up under her shirt and started playing with her boobies, you know, pinching them and stuff.”
“Uh huh,” Jake said, picturing the scene quite well.
“Ordinarily, when someone started doing stuff like that, I would just turn my head and ignore it. Life on the road as part of a traveling band, right?”
“Right,” Jake agreed.
“But this time ... I found myself watching them. I remembered how nice it felt when you played with my tits and pinched them like that. And then I started thinking about how nice it felt when your tongue was on me ... especially ... you know ... down there.”