Unwed 💍

Chapter Twenty-Five: Maybe Tomorrow

"We're on the radio! Whoo hoo! We're on the radio!" Hank thrust open the apartment window and stuck his head out, screaming down at the spattering of people who walked below. "Hey everybody, that's us! Wes and the Flames!"

An elderly man looked up at him, an irritated scowl on his face. He waved his hand up at Hank dismissively and continued to make his way down the street. Inside, Wes cranked up the volume on the radio. The sound of his own voice on air spread thrills of excitement through his body.

"Whoo hoo!" he screamed, throwing his fists in the air. It had finally happened. Old Judd had come through in the end. He couldn't wait to run to the pay phone to call his father and tell him the news. 

Across the room, Gene sat on a tattered couch staring straight ahead, his hands in his lap, a smile plastered on his face. "Gosh, I can't believe it," he said, shaking his head.

"It's all uphill from here!" Hank gushed, nearly hitting his head on the window as he pulled himself in. His eyes gleamed with excitement. "The girls will be callin' us by name." With his characteristic style he flipped his collar up and spun around on his heels, his hand running through his hair. "I don't know about you fellas, but I'm gonna be ready when they do!"

A sharp knock erupted on the apartment door and Hank raced across the room, his feet sliding over the last few feet to open it. Judd's head popped in, a grin spread across his face. There was a bottle of champagne clutched in his hand. "I take it you're listening to the radio right now?"

Betsy squeezed in past him, her yellow linen dress smelling of freshly baked pie as she threw her arms around Hank, then Gene. She rushed forward to plant a kiss on Wes' cheek.

"Congratulations boys," she squeaked. "All of your hard work has finally paid off."

Judd patted Wes on the shoulder. "It's really something, ain't it?" he said. "Hearing your own voice on the radio. It's got to be one of the greatest feelings in the world."

"It's unbelievable," said Wes. "I can't wait to tell my father."

The five of them gathered around the radio, reveling in the sound of the song named, "Just In Time" that they'd created together. Judd wrote the song a couple of years ago. He'd told the boys he'd been waiting for the right voice to come along and sing it. The graying man's chest puffed out with pride as they listened. Betsy folded her arms around him from behind.

They turned as the door flew open wide and Ms. Miller made a grand entrance. She wore a red gown that clung tightly to areas that were better left hidden underneath. A wine glass sloshed in her hand as she waltzed into the room.

"I couldn't help but notice all of the commotion," she cooed, swaying back and forth to the last lines of the song.

They turned their attention back to the radio when the smooth voice of the announcer came on. "That was a new band out of Los Angeles by the name of Wes and the Flames, folks! What a crooner! From the sound of it, we'll be hearing a lot more of them in the future!"

"Fabulous, boys! Fabulous!" Ms. Miller raved. She set the empty wine glass down on the coffee table and clapped her hands together. "I always knew you boys would be stars!"

The little apartment was quickly becoming overcrowded and Wes was anxious to call his father. Judd gave him a knowing look. "Go ahead and call him, son," he said. "There will be plenty of time to celebrate."

"Excuse me for a few minutes," Wes said, pushing past Ms. Miller's advances as he moved towards the door.

He felt like skipping as he made his way down the narrow hallway. He leapt down the stairs, two at a time. His spirit was so high, he imagined himself floating over the ground. He burst out of the door onto the sidewalk. It was mid afternoon, the sun was blinding as it hit him. A young woman pushing a baby carriage jumped at his sudden appearance, her hand coming to her chest. He apologized before bounding off around the corner to the phone booth.