The High Notes: A Novel(64)



“Or run my business,” Clay said proudly. They didn’t know what sex the baby was yet and wanted to be surprised. Iris felt better than she had in the beginning. The baby was due in May. She wasn’t tired and didn’t feel sick anymore. She was writing a lot these days. She couldn’t believe it when she found out that she’d been nominated for a Grammy. She and Boy were both wildly excited, but he was sure he wouldn’t win. Just being nominated seemed like enough. Iris was sure she wouldn’t win either, and didn’t bother to write an acceptance speech she’d never use.

There were half a dozen parties that week, in anticipation of the awards. And they’d been invited to several after-parties, which sounded more appealing. The tension at award ceremonies was always tremendous, in every category. Nominees sat at the edge of their seats looking intense and nervous as the evening droned on.

Clay was surprised that Iris looked as relaxed as she did, when they left for the ceremony, and picked up Boy and Star on the way. Boy joked in the car, and they walked the red carpet as photographers snapped their pictures and had them pose looking very elegant. Every TV network had cameramen and reporters there, every newspaper from around the world.

Iris had been asked to perform one of her songs at the ceremony, which she didn’t want to do six months pregnant, so she had declined.

Boy’s category came first, and they had a film clip of each artist’s performance, which they played one by one. Boy looked tense for a moment, and looked over at Iris, and thought of when they’d met in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, and sang at the Elk. It was a lifetime ago, and had changed both their lives. But they both remembered back to the beginning, when they were no one, and now, thanks to Clay, they were both stars. That alone seemed like enough to Boy. In everything that mattered, he had already won his prize.

Iris held her breath when they called out the names in Boy’s category, and closed her eyes when they fumbled with the envelope. She was hoping that he’d win. It would be a big step up in his career, but Boy was already hurtling through the skies of fame at lightning speed, and had already come far since his first appearance on the scene in what seemed so long ago now, when Iris had taken him with her to meet Clay.

It had all begun then, thanks to Clay’s incredible vision and foresight, and ability to discover talent that no one else had recognized before or in quite the same way.

The winner’s name was finally announced, and Boy didn’t win this time, but Iris was absolutely certain that next time or the time after, or in a not-too-distant future, he would be standing on the stage holding the trophy. She met his eyes and they both smiled. He felt like a winner no matter what name the envelope had held. He wasn’t even disappointed, just grateful to have been nominated, and to have been there for the experience.

He leaned over and kissed Star’s cheek, and she nestled closer to him. As she did, he remembered the bullet that had only grazed him at Madison Square Garden, and felt lucky all over again. He was well aware that with the encounters he’d had, and the opportunities, he led a charmed life. He would have felt greedy wishing for more.

Iris was talking to Clay, whispering intensely, when they read off the names in her category. Then they showed the film clips and heard each song. She was intensely relieved that she had declined to perform hers onstage that night. She would have felt like a large helium balloon drifting off the stage.

She glanced at her fellow nominees, so obviously desperate, while trying to look glamorous, and not to show how badly they wanted it. It was a game changer to walk away with a Grammy. Iris knew others who had done it, but could not imagine it happening to her. Her mind drifted as they called the names again, after the film clips, and cameras panned their faces, and showed hands clenched, teeth gritted. You could almost hear their hearts beating like metronomes. Her competitors looked like they would have killed someone to grab the little statuette and run. Like Boy, she thought back to the beginning, the beginning of her time with Clay and everything that had come before. It was all held together, one long chain from beginning to end, and the people who belonged to the chapters in her life. Her father, Harry, Sally, Pearl, Pattie, Boy, Billy Weston, and Glen Hendrix, and then finally Clay, who had been the guardian angel who had brought her to where she was now, sitting here next to him, waiting to hear if she would win the coveted award. Her mind was drifting and she paid no attention, as she held Clay’s hand. Somewhere in the distance, she heard someone say her name.

She was still daydreaming, thinking about her husband, when he nudged her. She smiled at him and he whispered to her.

“Stand up, you won! Go up on the stage.”

“What?” He’d broken into her reverie. For an instant she didn’t remember where she was.

“Go up onstage,” he whispered to her again, and Boy was staring at her, and reached over Star to touch her hand. Sweet victory was hers. She fumbled with her dress and stood up, feeling disoriented, and then ran lightly down the aisle to the stage, as someone lent her a hand up the steps so she didn’t trip on her dress or fall. Then suddenly she was standing on the stage, staring into the audience, as they all waited for a speech she hadn’t prepared. All she could do was speak from her heart, just like her songs.

She walked slowly to the mike, trying to regain her composure. “I’d like to thank my wonderful husband, Clay, and my son, Jimmy, for giving me the amazing life I lead today. When I met Clay, I knew him only as the remarkable impresario who has given all or most of you work. To all of you in my life, I thank you, for the good times and hard times you gave me, for the lessons that I learned from you or because of you. For those of you who loved and respected me, I thank you. To those of you who hurt me and made the dark days longer, I forgive you. To my husband, Clay, I owe you my life, and this life,” she said, lightly touching her belly, “thank you for my incredible career, and helping me hit the high notes. I will love and be grateful to you till the end of my days, and for my peers and colleagues”—she held the Grammy high—“thank you for this.”

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