A Different Kind of Forever(17)
“Gretchen Miles,” someone yelled from the audience.
“Bitch,” someone else yelled.
Michael shook his head. “Man, you guys are harsh.” More laughter. “Anyway, the only real people food Max ever ate was pastrami, because my niece fed him about a half a pound of the stuff one afternoon.” Diane took a quick intake of breath as the audience laughed. “And from that moment on he could smell pastrami from a mile away, and whenever he did he went crazy.”
He took his hands out of his pockets to pull the front of his shirt away from his chest. “So, last week, I’m back home and I figure I’ll take Max out to Bloomfield Park. I got the Frisbee, I got tennis balls, we’re ready for anything, you know? So, we’re on the ball field, the park is practically empty, we’re having this great old time, and suddenly the wind shifts. Max freezes, and takes off like a shot and I know, man, I just know.” He paused and dropped his voice. “Shhhiiiit. It’s pastrami.”
Diane sank lower into her seat as Sue hit her excitedly on the arm.
“So Max is flying, and I am pounding after him, and there’s one, lone woman, sitting at a picnic table, eating a sandwich.” Laughter. “I yell, ‘he wants your sandwich’, and the woman jumps up on the picnic table, and she sticks out her hand and Max leaps like a gazelle, gets the sandwich, and it’s gone .” The audience started to clap and cheer. Michael was shaking his head, one hand on his hip. “So I’m looking up at this woman.” He got in closer to the mike, and dropped his voice again. “Sensational legs.” Diane glanced over at Emily, who was open-mouthed. “And this great tattoo right above her ankle.”
The crowd roared and hooted. Diane felt the blood drumming in her ears.
“Since she didn’t say anything about suing me,” Michael went on, “I bought her lunch and invited her to the show.” He shaded his eyes and looked down at them. “Are you girls having a good time?”
Megan, Emily and all their friends shrieked and waved excitedly. Michael nodded.
“Good.” He turned to the stage hand that had walked onstage with another microphone and an acoustic guitar. “Thanks, man.” He slipped the guitar strap over his shoulder and adjusted the mike.
“Now I’m going to tell you all about my sisters. I have three, all older, and they were all into music, and I spent my whole childhood sneaking into one of their rooms, and listening to whatever they were listening to. That’s how I began to love music. That’s when I decided to make it a part of my life.”
His voice had dropped, grown softer, and Diane could feel everyone leaning in, straining to hear.
“When I was five, I started taking piano lessons, because everyone in my house took piano lessons. But I wanted to play guitar. Angela, my youngest sister, was taking guitar lessons. I made a deal with my Dad that I’d go to my piano lesson like a good little boy, if I could also go with Angela. So she took me along with her, I’d sit in the corner and listen, then we’d go home and practice together, and that’s how I learned to play the guitar. Angela had this big, old Lennon-McCartney songbook, and we learned every song.” The crowd burst into applause. As they quieted, he went on.
“My sisters all loved the Beatles, especially Paul. I would play and they would sing along. And that is just about as perfect a memory you could have.” He had been looking down as he spoke, his hands folded over the curve of the guitar. He suddenly lifted his eyes and his smile went out across the audience. “I had forgotten. Diane with the sexy tattoo reminded me. I want to thank her for that. So this song is for the Carlucci girls, who are responsible for so many of the good things in my life.”
He began to play ‘And I Love Her.’ Diane felt a rush of tears to her eyes, and she clamped her hand to her mouth. Michael’s voice was deeper than Paul McCartney’s had been, and he sang the words slower, not to a lover, but with gratitude and a touch of sadness. The guitar had a different touch, but still exquisite. When he was done he quietly said good night, and the stage went black, and a deafening roar went to the ceiling and Diane sat dumb, tears streaming down her cheeks.
The house lights went on suddenly, and Diane blinked against the brightness. She wiped tears off her face and turned to look at Sue.
Her friend shook her head. “Oh. My.God. You have just become a piece of NinetySeven history. The Web is going to be on fire with this.”
Diane looked past Sue to Megan further down the row. She was talking excitedly with Becca and Joann. Then Diane turned her head toward Emily. Her other daughter was staring at her.