Chapter 46: Full Disclosure

November 8, 1983

So, there I was, gazing downward at my guitar, absent-mindedly tuning it. We were there in the basement of the Andrade house, getting ready for practice. And all signs pointed toward this being a routine, uneventful Tuesday evening practice.

All of a sudden, I felt someone tugging on the guitar. I looked up, and beheld a smiling Evie.

"Gimme that," she said insistently.

I shrugged, while shooting glances at my other bandmates, who were looking on with curiosity. I handed over the guitar without contest. Then, I happened to notice that Inez was also grinning widely. That's when I knew; those two devious roommates were up to something ... again.

Inez, who was all plugged in and ready to go, launched into the guitar intro for "Crazy On You." Again, that was standard fare for our practices. What happened next, however, was something I never would have anticipated. Evie, holding my instrument and sporting an endearingly smug look, suddenly began to strum the rhythm guitar accompaniment that I normally handled. Now, I had never known Evie to have any guitar-playing abilities in either timeline, so this was a stunning development. What made it even more of a shock... she was nearly as good as I was.

I looked over at the other four band members, who were every bit as blown away by this occurrence as I was. Eileen was just standing there, with an incredulous look on her face. Paul's jaw looked as though it was about to hit the floor. Only Dave saw fit to actually say something, crude as it was.

"Holy fucking shit!" he blurted out.

They finished the song, and then before any of us could react, started in on another tune. I couldn't help myself; I had to get to the bottom of this. I positioned myself in front of Inez and Evie, and began laughing and waving my arms. Although they both were smiling from ear to ear, they pretended not to see me, and kept playing. Finally, I shouted, "Time out!" and made a T gesture with my hands. They both laughed, and put a halt to their little show.

"Sweetie," Inez said to me, still giggling. "Don't you know it's rude to interrupt someone when they're playing?"

"Rude or not," I smiled at her, "the rest of us demand an explanation. You've been secretly giving guitar lessons to your roommate, haven't you?"

Now it was my girlfriend's turn to wear the smug expression. "Maaaaybe," she half-confessed. "Or maybe Evie just picks things up really quickly."

"Yeah, right," Dave cracked. "At our next practice, I'm gonna blow you all away with my amazing accordion-playing abilities that I suddenly picked up at a polka party."

Once we all stopped laughing at that remark, Inez came clean. "We thought we could really use a third person with guitar capabilities. We both wanted to surprise you all."

"We don't need a saxophone on every song," added Evie, "which means I'm nothing but a backup singer much of the time. So, the obvious choice for third guitarist is me. I'm not throwing away my sax. Don't worry about that. And we're not asking you to put down your guitar, Pat. All we're aiming at is more flexibility."

I smiled at Evie. "I love it. This frees me up to spend more time behind the keyboard, which also frees Eileen up to concentrate on vocals."

"Plus," Inez threw in, "if I want to put away my guitar for a song or two and just concentrate on singing ... it's now much easier to do that."

Paul summed it up succinctly.

"Now," he said, "we're really a force to be reckoned with."

November 12, 1983

We'd landed an interesting gig on this particular Saturday afternoon. Dave's cousin was getting married, and they'd booked us to do the wedding reception. This was actually the fourth wedding we'd done, and weddings were showing up with increasing frequency on our calendar. They required a somewhat shorter set list than we were used to, as well as a much greater emphasis on romantic ballads and slow dance songs. We'd always had a few of those in our repertoire, but we were now making a conscious effort to learn more.

Oh, don't get me wrong. We spiced up the reception with quite a few of our signature uptempo songs, starting with "Edge of Seventeen" and ending with "What I Like About You". We even trotted out a recent addition to our storehouse of material, Billy Idol's "Dancing With Myself", a song rife with double entendres. We were always rockers, first and foremost.

However, this was an evening somewhat out of the ordinary for us, because more than ever before, we had mellow songs peppered throughout our set list. For the first time since Eileen's prom, we did "We've Got Tonight", and I felt like I sang it as well as I did the first time. I also sang lead on Eric Clapton's "Wonderful Tonight". On top of that, I had the honor of providing the vocals for the bride and groom's first dance, which was Lionel Richie's "Truly". By no means was it all about me, though. Eileen sang a lovely version of Bette Midler's "The Rose", with Inez providing backing vocals. In addition, the bride had a special request; she wanted to hear us do "That's the Way I've Always Heard It Should Be", by Carly Simon. We came up with a creative arrangement, and Inez delivered a hauntingly subdued vocal performance that just blew everyone away. I was learning that when Inez went up against the edges of her comfort zone, the results were often spectacular, and I made a mental note to discuss that with her at the earliest opportunity.

We were definitely a big hit with the wedding attendees. But for the six of us, the day's highlight was none of the songs I've mentioned so far.

Evie's newly acquired guitar skills gave us the necessary flexibility to debut in public a very special song. Inez and I put down our instruments, and for the first time outside our practice studio, we sang "Suddenly" in front of a very appreciative audience.

Naturally, we ended it with a kiss.

November 20, 1983

We'd kept up our Sunday tradition. Each week, we faithfully spent a good portion of the day with our families. Today, however, when Inez and I arrived at my house, we found it empty. Eileen had decided to visit with Dave's folks for a little while. Of course, this meant that my sweetie and I had the whole house to ourselves.

"Hmmm," I said, considering the possibilities.

"Whatever shall we do?" Inez wondered, smiling dreamily.

"Problem is, we don't know when my parents will be back. It could be at any minute," I pointed out. Inez nodded in cautious agreement, and spooked by this prospect, we decided to forgo engaging in pleasures of the flesh. Making love in my own bed would have to wait.

In the meantime, my eyes wandered around the living room, and focused on the grand piano. An idea shot though my brain. I directed a sly smile at my beloved, strode over to the piano, and put down the top. As Inez looked on curiously, I surprised her by dashing over, wrapping one arm around her waist, placing the other under her tush, and lifting her up off her feet. "Wheeeee!" she laughed, as I carried her across the room, finally setting her down gently, seated atop the piano.

I seated myself in front of the ivories. I wanted to sing a certain song to her, one I'd already done for her several times. It was the closest thing we had to "our song": "And So It Goes". Until now, I'd always done it with no instrumental backing, for obvious reasons. But that song has a beautiful piano arrangement, and I had it down cold. Here was a perfect opportunity to show it to her, with no one else in earshot, and I put every ounce of feeling I could summon into my playing and my singing. At song's end, Inez's eyes were quite moist. She jumped down from the piano, hopped into my lap, and gave me a sizzling kiss.

"That was beautiful," she said to me, emotion evident in her voice. "If we didn't have to worry about your dad and mom coming home, I'd devour you right now."

"Hold that thought," I grinned.

"I'm not holding it completely," Inez purred. She swung around to face me directly, straddling my lap, with her legs dangling behind the piano bench. She kissed me again, pushing her tongue between my teeth, as I willingly yielded to – and began to wrestle with – the soft, moist invader. The possibility of my parents' sudden appearance wasn't enough to deter us from engaging in a furious makeout session, while still seated right there in front of the piano.

Finally, we unclenched ourselves, and got to talking about music in general. Outside of band practices, we'd really never been together in front of a piano (or keyboard) before.

"Will you do another song for me?" Inez asked girlishly. "Something we'd never do in a band setting. It doesn't even have to be a romantic song, just something different."

"I will," I affirmed with a smile, "but after that, it's your turn."

"Deal," she replied in an instant.

I thought it over for a moment, and put forth a rendition of "Bridge Over Troubled Water," which she loved.

"Now, let's see what you got," I cracked.

"I have a suggestion," Inez responded. She named the tune.

"I don't know that one on the piano at all," I said with regret. "But why don't you sing it anyway? I'd love to hear it."

And she did. The song was "Memory," from the musical Cats. Showing yet another dimension to her incredible talent, she sang it in a style reminiscent of Barbra Streisand. About halfway through, Dad, Mom, and Seamus came in through the front door. They stood transfixed as Inez, unfazed by their arrival, brought the song to its conclusion. A hearty round of applause ensued at the end.

"I think," I declared, smiling proudly at my girlfriend, "I'd better learn how to play that one, real quick."

Soon thereafter, Dad, Seamus and I were glued to the TV, watching football, that great autumn male bonding ritual. Inez, to whom football held much less appeal than baseball, had joined Mom in the kitchen. It wasn't much longer before Dave and Eileen arrived. It turned out that Dave was just dropping in to say hello; he took in the game with us for about fifteen minutes, then headed on out, aiming to spend a little more quality time with his folks.

Out in the kitchen, Mom and Inez were talking up a storm. They had really hit it off, something that tickled me immensely. Eileen, meanwhile, rather than joining the women, had elected to remain with the guys in front of the TV. I was a little curious about that, and I casually questioned my sister about it.

"I'm fine. I don't mind watching football," she replied with a slight hint of defensiveness. I was momentarily concerned, wondering if I should bring it up with her later. But soon, all was forgotten as dinner was served. And later that evening, with the usual suspects all crowded into my car, laughter reigned as usual during the drive back to the university.

November 30, 1983

The late afternoon sun was sinking toward the horizon. I'd just finished my last class for the day. I was heading over to the campus post office, to check my mail box. As I walked along reflecting about this and that, my mind wandered back to the previous week. Eileen's speculation from a few months ago had been accurate; four out of the six members of our band were on hand for Thanksgiving dinner at our house. It was a far cry from last year, when I'd been on the outs with Dave. Now, I had Inez by my side, and I'd long since made amends with Dave. This was yet another delicious reminder of just how far I'd come in the past year.

I spun the dial on the combination lock attached to the front of my mail box. I opened the box, and found a single letter inside. My name and box number were scribbled on the front of the envelope in a loopy, feminine scrawl, one which looked vaguely familiar. At first, I wondered if it was another letter from Kaci, but the presence of a campus box number – and no other address information – indicated that the letter had a local origin. I ripped open the envelope, revealing a single-page handwritten letter.

Dear Pat,

First off, I want to thank you for hearing me out on that day when I approached you. I was fully expecting you to refuse to talk to me. I wouldn't have blamed you if you had. If the shoe had been on the other foot, I'm not sure I would have been nearly as understanding as you were.

I did give Roy that ultimatum. So far, so good. He's turned over a new leaf, and I have hope that he'll keep it up. That was wonderful advice you gave me. Plus, it was unsolicited advice, meaning it came from the heart. You didn't have to do that, Pat, and the fact that you did means everything to me. I still have guilt issues to work through, but your forgiveness went a long way toward wiping them out.

I know that I hurt you terribly when I broke up with you. It's something that I'll always have to live with. You deserve better than the way I treated you, and I say that not to beat myself up, but because you really do deserve better.

I have to admit that I felt a little jealous when you told me about Inez. But knowing that you've found happiness with someone else has really helped me to deal with everything. I have a confession to make. Even though we both have someone else now, there is a part of me that will always love you. Because of that, and out of respect for both of our new relationships, I think it's best if I keep my distance. That's why I decided to write instead of calling or talking to you in person.

In closing, I wish you all the happiness that you deserve, and no matter what happens from here on, I will always treasure the memories of the time we spent together.

Julia

Late that evening, alone in my room, I formulated a reply. It was succinctly stated, brief and to the point. I couldn't resist putting in a little blurb that, although its significance surely went right over Julia's head, was more factual than she knew.

Dear Julia,

Thanks for following up with me. I was wondering whether you were able to lay down the law with Roy, and I'm tickled to hear that it worked. I'm proud of you for having the guts to do something like that.

Since that day we spoke a few weeks ago, I've had a lot of time to reflect on the situation. It took me a long time to get over that bomb you dropped on me. But several months have now passed, and it seems that we are both in a better place now. That's all that matters. Forgiving you was a necessary step in helping me to move on.

I will also make a confession to you. Inez is the one that I love. But having said that, what you and I had was special, and you will always have a place in my heart. I believe that Fate stepped in and dictated a different future for each of us. Do you believe in Fate, Julia? I'm finding that as time goes by, I'm becoming more and more convinced that Fate steered us onto the paths in life we were truly meant to follow. And it's for the best.

Best of luck,

Pat

The next morning, I dropped the letter into a campus mail slot. And with that, closure was achieved. Just like the Kaci situation before it, the Julia matter was allowed to slip away into the past.

December 13, 1983

They say that time flies when you're having fun. One very accurate alteration of that cliché might be, "Time flies when you're in love."

Inez and I had been together for nearly four months. Finals were a mere few days from now, and the semester had flown by like none before it.

Tonight, Dennis was out doing something with Mayra. He'd mentioned taking in a movie, which was probably the truth, but I was sure they'd go parking or something afterward. Of course, Inez came over; we believed in never letting an opportunity for privacy go to waste.

So, there we were, lying in bed, naked in each other's arms, reveling in the bliss which followed a particularly passionate lovemaking session. As so often happened in this kind of setting, we got to talking. Our plans for the holidays, something we both were excited about, dominated the conversation at first.

"I'm so happy that we have our plane tickets," Inez said dreamily.

"Leaving the 28th, and coming back on the 4th," I reminded her. As if she needed to be reminded.

We would be spending Christmas at my place. And three days later, we'd be flying down to Florida to ring in the new year with Inez's parents. Inez was certainly excited about this development, but I might have been even more so. Her parents had actually started to push this idea shortly after Inez and I had gotten together.