Unwed 💍

Chapter Fourteen: Sisters

Wes folded his arms behind his head, his bare feet resting on the railing of Judd's back deck. They were signed to SunRay Records. He couldn't believe it. He'd kept asking Judd if it was real. In fact, he'd asked so many times that the last time he'd asked, Judd had frowned and threatened to take the offer back. He hadn't asked again.

The massive lake glimmered in front of him like a mirage as he pondered the biggest deal of his life. Up until a year ago, he'd never set foot outside of Jersey. In his hometown Hoboken, he'd grown up surrounded by tall, square buildings of all shades of gray that set on nothing but concrete, stretched out for as far as the eye could see.

His father was going to be so proud. He planned to phone him as soon as he set foot on the mainland. A tinge of guilt hit him as he wiggled his toes in the sun, the cold breeze blowing over him. His father would be in the steel mills right then, covered in sweat and grease, clocking out for lunch soon.

His old man had always pushed him to sing. He'd worked extra shifts and pawned most of his precious things to get him a decent guitar and a train ticket to California. He closed his eyes. The bright sun shone through his eyelids. He could see his father's face, his dark eyes bright with hope as he saw him off, his hand raised high in farewell.

The voice of his father, his lilting italian accent, rang in his head. He remembered the story he always told when he talked about the American dream, word for word.

"Aiutati che Dio ti aiutal, help yourself and God will help you. This is why I came from Italy, heaving on the bottom of a crowded steam ship, with nothing but a prayer and a pair of drawers to my name. When I saw the American flag flying on the shore, I knew it. This will be the place where we make a name for ourselves. And you my son, you will be the one to do it."

His mother would be in the diner across the street from their apartment, serving hamburgers and shakes to cuddled up teenagers in torn leather booths. She'd been worried sick when he'd set off for California nearly a year ago. She'd written him every week, the letter wrapped around as much money as she could muster in tips, which were sparse at the diner. He was sure she'd have mixed feelings when she found out the news. He often sensed she was secretly hoping things wouldn't work out so he'd come back home.

The call of a seagull shifted his thoughts to the girl on the beach, particularly the cute little line of freckles across her nose. He smiled. She was appearing in his thoughts more and more lately. Strange, since he'd only met her once and didn't even know her name. She was a mystery, and from the looks of it, she'd remain that way.

"You alright out here?" Judd plopped down in the chair next to him, snapping him back to business. His feet flew off the railing to the ground.

"I'm great." He swung around, kicking himself for losing track of time. "Where are Hank and Gene? Do you want us to get together to practice?"

Judd had given them a couple of songs to work on. He kept talking about a new style called Rock and Roll, and how it was the next big thing. "You're gonna be a Rock and Roll band," he kept saying. "You gotta come up with a name that works." So far, they hadn't come up with anything that Judd would approve of.

Judd sat back, a bottle of beer in his hand, and rested his feet on the railing. "They're inside enjoying my wife's lemon meringue pie." He took a long swig of the beer and closed his eyes.

Wes sat waiting patiently for him to say something else.  When he didn't, he shifted, feeling awkward, and peered over at him, trying to think of what to do next. The man didn't move. He wondered how he'd possibly fallen asleep that fast. After much debating, he stretched and started to climb out of the chair.