Just What I Needed

Just What I Needed (7)

It wasn't just her clumsiness that made her fall, it was the fact that someone cleared their throat from the shadows.

That wasn't a comforting notion since she had been thinking about ghosts.

Thankfully, the guitar fell on top of Keely as she tumbled down to the ground yet again for what seemed like the millionth time in the past few days. And lying in an awfully odd formation, Keely watched as Miss Jones came out from those shadows.

Her cheeks burning, Keely scrambled to her feet, gripping the acousitc fender by the neck.

"Miss Jones?" she asked incredulously, though a little suspiciously. Who showed up at ten o'clock at night?

But Miss Jones just smiled, her incredibly white teeth showing in the darkness. She looked as if she had just come from a party. Makeup made her mocha skin glow, and her already dark eyes became sooty. She was wearing a knee high pencil skirt and a low riding shirt, but still looked appropriate for a mother of a four year old child, a good looking mother of a four year old child.

"I just came to give you this," Miss Jones said holding out a bright white envelope.

Curiously, Keely pulled open the slit to look inside. "Thank you," she said smiling, all suspicion gone as she saw the money for the lesson.

Keely would not be spending her job money on shoes or clothes like other sixteen year olds. Seeing as it was hard enough to keep the farm afloat and pay for that incredibly expensive private school, all Keely's riding lesson money either went to her own rare lessons or the grocery fund for the house.

"Do you have much experience with music and preforming?" Miss Jones asked, her eyes alight with interest.

"Ah," she started, befuddled with the question Miss Jones had proposed. What did it matter to her if Keely had any experience with music or preforming? "I haven't played in front of anyone besides my father since I was seven," Keely admitted. "But music is like my life, I don't think I could live without it. I mean, my whole room is covered in records."

"Hmm," Miss Jones murmured thoughtfully.

After a long moment of silence with Miss Jones looking at her house's window contemplatively and Keely looking at her bemused, Keely asked a burning question. "Why did you want to know?"

"So you don't know who I am..." Miss Jones murmured, turning her head back to Keely.

"Mitchie's mother?" she suggested, getting more confused by every word that came out of her companion's mouth.

Suddenly Miss Jones looked extremely satisfied, the kind of satisfaction that Keely thought would be nice to have at the moment. "Then I guess I should tell you, shouldn't I?"

"Yes, yes, you should," Keely agreed.

"Have you ever heard of the major record label called UAE Records?" She asked.

"Of course I have..." despite the words that were obviously being said by Miss Jones to vanish her confusion, Keely's mind still wasn't connecting the dots, and she wasn't a dumb person. "Who hasn't heard of them? They've signed some of the biggest bands in history and the present. Even thought most of the bands they have today aren't too good, the old artists they used to sign were great."

Smiling like she was holding a secret, Miss Jones answered, "Do you know the name of the owner of UAE Records?"

"Isn't something like Margret Jones?" Keely asked.

"Maureen Jones," she corrected.

"What does she have to do with anything in Bellingham?" Keely asked bewildered. But then words from two weeks ago repeated in her mind.