Chapter 102

“And like all good plans, it required a crazy Ukrainian guy.”
—Andy Weir, Artemis

BETTY MARVEL, Cindy’s mom, had been busy. When Mom and I got to her house, we were met by a full contingent of people who had something to say about our future. First of all, Jannie, Vinnie, and Mr. LeBlanc were in a heated discussion regarding the kind of music appropriate for us to be playing. Riko was taking Cindy’s measurements and was being lectured by Betty about what kind of costumes were appropriate and inappropriate for her daughter. Mom was quickly engaged by Betty and drawn away from the measurements. Cindy looked plaintively at me as if she’d just been sold into slavery. I closed my eyes and made it all go away for a minute. I reached for my guitar and sat on a kitchen chair and started to play.

I didn’t make a big deal about it. I started with some simple scales and then transitioned into the slow and deliberate tones of Händel’s ‘Sarabande’ that I could lose myself in. It wasn’t loud and I intentionally kept the volume low so I could just focus on the music and shut out everyone around me. I moved from there into Lislevand’s ‘La Lucrèce’. I wasn’t specifically trying to be a downer but in the chaos of the Marvel home, I needed to calm my heart and mind. I was going to move to Bach’s ‘Chaconne’ when Mom laid a hand on my shoulder. Everyone was sitting at the table. I guess the meeting was starting.

“With the schedule you’ve laid out, they’ll have to spend every spare minute practicing. Cynthia doesn’t like to start before ten but if you don’t need Jacob until two, they can get four hours of rehearsal in each day this weekend in Indianapolis and, of course, will have three more days until we leave for Kansas. They’ll need to record when they get back here, but we have almost two weeks between Kansas and Denver. The best venue for a live concert looks like Kentucky. Do you absolutely need him for San Diego?” Mrs. Marvel started with Riko.

“I’m not convinced this medieval lute and recorder music is good first CD material,” LeBlanc said. “We need Cindy on her flute. And, as nice as the guitar lute is for show, it is nowhere near the quality instrument of the guitar. I would rather have that last week of August as a studio session.”

“Studio won’t cut it. They need the audience connection,” Vinnie jumped in. “You saw what happened when they did their encore. It was dynamic.”

“That was completely undirected,” LeBlanc said. “The most amateur musician would be able to tell they were off the score for timing. They were simply depending on each other for cues.”

“Cindy can follow the music as it’s noted,” Jannie said. “I’m not sure Jacob’s playing is mature enough for that. A few weeks of rehearsal and we should have his major faults corrected. We could arrange a live concert in December and record there.”

“Well, that delays things while we have this opportunity for experience through the summer,” Betty said. Mom watched me as I pulled out my cell phone.

“I need all my girlfriends as soon as possible at this address,” I wrote. “Desperately.” Mom saw what I’d written and smiled at me. I sent the text.

The arguments continued. And were getting nowhere. They even got off on what was an appropriate costume for a few minutes. I strummed the guitar and stood up.

“We need a Gantt chart,” I said. “Where’s Mr. Bryce when you need him? We’ll have to chart the dependencies and figure out how much time each task takes, then what the scheduled lags are for interruptive activities, and finally, determine the critical path to make sure everyone’s deliverables arrive on time. Once we have the critical path, we can project an exact date for completion of the final product. By the way, can anyone tell me what the final product is supposed to be? Are we talking about just getting a random bunch of music into the public eye or is there an actual plan for a progression of platforms and products? And exactly how many hours a week are you scheduling our time for? A three-day show at PopCon or a Ren Faire is ten or more hours a day. You then expect us to put in four more hours each of those days rehearsing? And continue with eight or ten hours a day between shows? Maybe Cindy has no life, but when am I going to run? Write? Make love to my girlfriends?”

It was completely accidental good timing that the doorbell rang. Mrs. Marvel was taken aback when I stood and opened the door for Desi, Rachel, Livy, Brittany, and Beca. I waited at the door while Nanette came running up the steps. Behind her, Donna Levy wandered in, looking like she was a little lost.

“You’re going to have to give some things up, Jacob,” Mr. LeBlanc said. “The music has to come first and foremost.”

“No.”

Vinnie sat back in his chair kind of smugly. Jannie jumped into the breach.

“The kind of music you’re capable of takes time and practice. You need to bring your playing up to the level of Cindy’s.”

“Jannie, I love the music and I love the guitar. I love playing with Cindy. But I could be perfectly happy playing in the evenings and recording a Sunday morning solo concert for the next twenty years. I have a life.”

“You spoke big words yesterday, Jacob. I took you at face value. You said you’d do what was necessary to make Cindy famous.”

“Not exactly. I said I wanted to provide a background that showed off her talent and made her a household name. I also went into detail to describe three non-human things that make me feel alive. Running, writing, and music. I didn’t go into the human things that make me feel alive. That’s why I asked them to come over right now to meet you all. Beca is my best friend, companion, and sometimes spiritual guide. I love her from the bottom of my heart. Rachel is my lover, my soul mate, my intellectual challenge. I love her from the bottom of my heart. Livy and Nanette are my running mates, inspiration, and lovers. I love them from the bottom of my heart. Desi is my playmate, gateway to artistic exploration, and fabulously fun bedmate. I love her from the bottom of my heart. Brittany is my dancing partner, which is like running in circles in an enclosed area in rhythm with the music. I love her from the bottom of my heart. Donna ... Wow! Hi. Donna is my mentor, my editor, my inspiration in many instances. She holds a part of my heart in her hands. Mrs. Marvel ... No, let me say this to Cindy. I think you are fantastic. I want to do what I can to help you. I love your music and I love playing with you. But I’m not going to sacrifice my love on the altar of your success.”

Cindy was crying and jumped up to run. I thought she was headed down the hall but she came around the table and slammed into me, hugging me so hard I thought my ribs would crack.

“I hope one day you’ll love me like you love them,” she whispered. I know Rachel and Beca were close enough to me to hear her and I think, by the way she rolled her eyes, that Mom heard. I sighed.

“Can we all work together to plan something that will help meet our goals without killing the hopes and dreams and loves of everyone else?” I asked. I didn’t let go of Cindy.

Everyone had an idea of what we should do, where we should go, how to measure success, and what was important. Having made my stand, my mother took over negotiations at the table. She and Riko explained to everyone what it meant to have a pod. It was a new concept to most of them who thought that Cindy and I would simply be boyfriend and girlfriend. For convenience sake. I gave Donna a one-armed hug.

“Thank you for joining in my defense,” I said. “I didn’t expect you.”

“Oh. Nanette and I were having coffee when your message came in. I didn’t have much choice,” she said. “But I’m glad I’m here. Do you mind if I go take a seat at the table? Someone needs to defend your writing aspirations.” I gave her a squeeze and she sat in my chair next to Mom. Nanette went over to take Cindy’s chair and I realized I still had an arm around the overwhelmed girl.

“Let’s go to the music room,” I whispered. I collected my guitar and lute and we led my other five girlfriends to the music room and shut the door.

“Isn’t this cozy,” Rebeca said. “Cindy, do you mind if we listen to you and Jacob practice?”

“Um ... no. Of course not. You’re um ... Are you really all his girlfriends?” she blurted out.

“Not just his,” Livy said. “Each other’s, too. Not everyone is a lover to everyone else, but we all love each other.”

“Nicely said, Lover,” Rachel said. “And don’t forget, there are three more of us who are elsewhere. And I think Donna is going to join. Nanette would be in here but she’s representing Jacob’s running interests at the table and can speak to the interests of the pod.”

Cindy sighed. “I suppose we might as well practice and wait to be told what we’re going to do. I’m sorry this became such a big deal, Jacob. I know you didn’t volunteer to sacrifice everything for me. Mom gets ... enthused.”

“Cindy, you’ve got a great talent and you work hard at developing it. What do you want?” I said. “What’s with the whole going to PopCon and Ren Faires thing?”

“Mom spotted it and I thought it would be fun. Playing with you is so much fun, it seemed like doing it outdoors in a medieval village would be so romantic.”