The High Notes: A Novel(49)

“He says the older one is like her mother,” she filled him in.

“No wonder they got divorced,” he said in a low voice.

The two girls left after lunch and presumably went home, and were coming back for the concert that night. He had given them front row seats to a sold-out concert, which he told them was history-making. He said that Iris and Boy were going to be enormous stars one day, and he wanted them to hear one of their first concerts. But Margie was always systematically critical of everything her father did, just like her mother. It was one of the many things that had destroyed their marriage.

Iris thought that it was a little silly that Margie objected to her, or was jealous, if she thought she and Clay weren’t dating. She just seemed like an unusually sour person for someone her age. Iris remembered that she was the one who wanted her father to buy her a house in Malibu and he had refused and thought the idea inappropriate at twenty-two. Ellen seemed much more reasonable and easier to get along with, with simpler tastes. Clay’s two girls were very different.



* * *



—

Iris, Boy, and the others left the pool after lunch to get ready for rehearsal. They shared a van to get there and the rehearsal went well. Iris switched one of her songs for the new arrangement she’d been working on. The venue was huge. It was hard to believe that they could fill it, but the concert was sold out for all three days they were playing at the Staples Center.

It was exciting to be in L.A., after playing Vegas. The exhilaration was building again.

L.A. turned out to be an even bigger hit than Vegas had been. Iris felt as though they were developing a cult following, which was going to sell their records even faster. In fact, their record sales, hers and Boy’s, had gone through the roof since the concert in Vegas. She had called and told Pattie how fantastic it was, and she was happy for them. She wanted to come and see one of their concerts herself now, and was going to see if she could find someone to keep Jimmy for a day or two, so she could catch the last stop of the tour in New York, and get a little time with Iris, and some time off from her responsibilities in Biloxi.

Iris saw Margie and Ellen backstage with their father after the performance. Ellen was wildly enthusiastic, and mesmerized by Boy and how handsome he was, and Margie remained stone-faced, and had nothing to say to either of them except that she thought the acoustics weren’t good, and the music was too loud and drowned out the voices, which wasn’t true. It was her way of rejecting everything Iris wrote about, pretending she hadn’t heard it. She seemed to have a particularly strong dislike for Iris, but she wasn’t warm to her father either.

Ellen was driving back to Berkeley after the performance and she gave Iris a hug before she left, and told her she was terrific. When Iris saw Clay half an hour later when they left the theater, he was alone, and the girls were gone. Iris felt sorry for him. He looked sad and dejected, he obviously didn’t have an easy time with his daughters. And if Margie really was like her mother, his marriage must have been a nightmare and it wasn’t surprising he hadn’t married again. She was a very unpleasant young woman, with a chip on her shoulder and a nasty attitude about everything. Clay had told Iris before that her mother had poisoned her against him, although he did everything he could for them. She hadn’t succeeded with his younger daughter. But his relationship with both of them seemed strained. And he was such a nice person, Iris thought. He didn’t deserve it.

They had drinks after the performance at the Polo Lounge that night, and Clay seemed subdued when they went back to the cottage. Iris could tell that Margie’s attitude had spoiled the evening for him, and he’d been looking forward to it. He had hoped that they would love it. Ellen had, but Margie wouldn’t let herself enjoy it, or admit she had. Their performance had been fantastic.

And so were the next two nights. L.A. and Las Vegas were complete triumphs, the press was all over them, and record sales were reflecting their success on the road. The reaction had been immediate. Clay couldn’t be happier, as he read the press coverage on their way to Houston.

They were only spending two days there, and Iris had told Clay that she was taking some time off the night they arrived.

“Do you still have family in Texas?” he asked her, and she shook her head.

“Not really. There’s just something I have to do, some people I want to see. I called ahead and got a car and driver for tonight,” she explained to him. She had a long drive ahead of her when they arrived, but she didn’t care. It was important.

She was just leaving the hotel at four o’clock, when she ran into him in the lobby. She was wearing cowboy boots and jeans and a Levi’s jacket. She’d had the boots since she was fifteen, and they looked it. They were well worn and battered.

“You look like a real cowgirl,” he said to her with a smile. “Will you be okay on your own?” he asked her, always protective of her. She didn’t have security with her. They’d had security in L.A., and he had had additional protection for her in Vegas because of Hendrix, but she had said she didn’t need any in Houston. She felt safe here, and for the remaining cities.

“I’ll be fine,” she reassured him, and then hesitated. She wasn’t sure why, but she wondered if he’d want to come with her. “Do you want to come? It’s a long drive, about three hours from Houston.”

“Would I be an intrusion?” he asked cautiously.