The High Notes: A Novel(47)
They floated out of the theater. Both performances had been superb, complementary in a way, but sufficiently different to make the audience feel they had been to two extraordinary concerts by two remarkable artists. There had been greatness on the stage and Iris’s voice had been exquisite, of a purity that even she couldn’t always produce, but she had that night.
She started to walk to her dressing room, and Boy emerged from the shadows, hugged her and lifted her off her feet and twirled her around. “You crushed it,” he said, and she was grinning. He was ecstatic for her.
“So did you! You were fantastic. They loved us,” she said, in awe of what had happened onstage that night. It was the kind of performance that would have provoked wild abuse from Glen Hendrix, just to be sure he destroyed their self-confidence, but she knew better now. What they’d done that night was molten gold onstage, the music, their voices, their rapport with the audience. When Boy set her back down, she saw Clay a few feet behind him, waiting for her and beaming. She walked toward him, and he looked at her with tears in his eyes.
“I don’t know what to say. You were incredible, Iris. And Boy was great too. I was so proud of you, if you were my child, I couldn’t have been prouder. You are going to have the most amazing career of any artist I know. Thank you, thank you for tonight.” He pulled her gently into his arms and hugged her. Their bodies touched and seemed to fit together. He could feel her heart beating from the excitement of being onstage. He didn’t want to let go of her. He just wanted to hold her there forever, he didn’t want the moment to end, nor did she. He walked back to her dressing room with her. Her security men followed her closely, but gave her enough space to talk to him without crowding her.
She was excited and elated and exhausted all at the same time. It was a deep emotional experience doing a performance like that. It didn’t happen that way every time. But tonight was a special beginning of the rest of her career. She had done it for Clay. She turned to tell him so.
“I did it for you, you know,” she said softly.
“I was hanging on your every word. You had them before you finished the first song, and me too.” He beamed at her, as she sat down and took off the makeup she wore onstage. She went behind a screen, took her dress off, and hung it on a rack, and came out in a pale blue cowboy shirt, jeans, and little red ballerina flats, and looked like a little girl again with her long golden hair. It was as though she had hung up the womanly side of her with her dress, and she was just a girl again, unmarked by life, full of dreams and happiness. He loved that about her. “What do you want to do?” he asked her. “Celebrate? Party? Go to bed and sleep?”
“I won’t be able to sleep for hours after a performance like that. Maybe go somewhere, relax, and have some champagne?”
They rounded up the others, and Clay took them to the main bar at the Bellagio. The headwaiter knew instantly who Clay was, and they gave them a table in the back big enough for all of them. Clay ordered champagne for Star and Iris, and the boys ordered harder liquor, rum, tequila, whiskey. They all needed to unwind after the show, and talked animatedly about it. Clay had just gotten a text that the next two nights were sold out too. Their tour was off to a roaring start. It was everything they had hoped it would be.
They stayed at the Bellagio for two hours, and then went back to their rooms at the Wynn. Iris walked into Clay’s living room with him, in the adjoining suites they were in.
“It was just a magical night,” he told her again.
“We’ll do it for you again tomorrow,” she promised with a yawn. She was tired now, but so happy. He kissed her on the cheek, and touched her cheek then for an instant. The evening had bathed everything in beauty and light. He watched her go to her room and softly close the door, as he wished that he was with her, but he knew you couldn’t have everything. Just being near her and listening to her sing, with that incredible voice, was enough.
Chapter 13
The rest of their performances in Las Vegas were just as good as the first. In fact, they seemed to get better each night, and the last night she played three encores and Boy came back onstage for the last one with her, and the crowd went crazy. They sang one of her most beautiful love songs and the audience was in love with them. The reviews for all three performances were fabulous. The audience’s reaction to them far surpassed anything Clay had hoped for, or that Boy and Iris had dreamed of. They were stars, and Clay wanted to get started on an album for Boy, and a second one for Iris. She wrote such a steady stream of songs that there was no shortage of material for her to sing. They all felt as though the three days in Las Vegas had been a golden moment in their lives, and to top it off, Boy won five thousand dollars at the blackjack table. It was a clean sweep. The three days in Vegas had been perfection in every way.
She wondered if her father had come to see her concert, but it was unlikely. He wouldn’t have wanted to spring for a ticket, and their relationship seemed to be over. She realized that she no longer needed his approval, and hadn’t in a long time. She hit the high notes just fine without being reminded to.
* * *
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The approval that meant everything to her was Clay’s, and she had that hands down. He was thrilled with how the first stop on the tour had gone. They all felt triumphant and energized as they flew the short distance to L.A. on his plane.