Then a wind shear of anger. What the hell was he thinking? Becoming friendly with the children, easing into their lives, making himself a part of the family, fitting in so seamlessly.
She grew analytical. Maybe this was the answer: on the surface Jon Boling had been perfect for her, fit, funny, kind, sexy. They'd had no harsh words, no fights, no fundamental collisions of any kind--unlike, for instance, as with Michael O'Neil.... Wait, she reminded herself. O'Neil did not exist for the purposes of this equation.
With Boling did the absence of friction mean the gears of love weren't truly engaging?
Could there be more love in sweat than in laughter?
That just didn't seem right.
Clutching the phone, turning it over, over, over ...
Call, not call?
Children screen children screen children screen ...
Maybe I'll flip it like a coin on the bed and let fate take charge.
Children screen children screen ...
Chapter 69
KAYLEIGH MET A slow-moving Edwin Sharp in the front of the diner.
She liked the choice of restaurant; it was in a quiet part of town and she suspected she wouldn't have to deal with autograph hounds. That was something even minor celebrities like her always had to consider.
He greeted her at the door with a smile and let her precede him into the air-conditioned, brightly lit restaurant, which was nearly empty. The waitress grinned, noting their famous patron, but Kayleigh was an expert at categorizing fans. She knew the woman would be efficient and cheerful but far too nervous to utter a word beyond order taking and comments about the heat.
They sat at a booth and ordered iced teas and, for Kayleigh, a burger. Edwin got a milkshake; the wound in his neck made chewing painful, he explained. "I love 'em. But I haven't had one for months. Hey, if nothing else, you got me to lose that weight I'd been trying to for years."
"Wow, that bruise is something."
He lifted the chrome napkin holder and used it as a mirror. "I think it's getting worse."
"Hurts a lot?"
"Yeah. But the big problem is I have to sleep on my back, which is something I've never been able to do." Their meals came and they ate and sipped. He asked, "How's your house?"
"I'll need new carpets, have to replace a lot of floor and a wall. The big problem is the smoke damage. It got into everything. They're talking about a hundred thousand dollars. Half my clothes have to go too. They stink."
"Sorry."
Then an awkward silence arose and it was clear Edwin didn't want to talk about the terrible events of the past few days. Fine with her. He started chatting about music and some of the founding women of the country scene. He talked about the records in his collection--he still listened to a lot of music on LPs and had invested in an expensive turntable. Kayleigh too thought that vinyl--analog recordings--produced the purest sound, better than the highest-quality digital.
Edwin mentioned he'd just found some Kitty Wells singles in a used record shop in Seattle.
"You like her?" Kayleigh asked, surprised. "She's one of my favorites."
"Have almost all of her records. You know she had a Billboard hit when she was sixty?"
"I did, yeah."
Wells, who started singing in the 1950s, was one of the first women inductees into the Country Music Hall of Fame.
They talked about country music back then--Nashville versus Texas versus Bakersfield. She laughed when Edwin quoted Loretta Lynn, who fought her way up through the male-dominated recording Industry: "A woman's two cents' worth is worth about two cents in the country music world."
In Edwin's opinion country represented the best of commercial music, much better than pop and hip-hop. It was well crafted, used appealing tunes and incorporated themes about important issues in everybody's lives like family, love, work, even politics. And the musicians were top craftspeople, unlike many folk, alternative, hip-hop and rock artists.
On the broader issue of the music world, he wasn't happy about the decline of the recording industry and thought that illegal downloads would continue to be a problem and erode the quality of performances. "If artists don't get paid for what they do, then what's the incentive to keep writing and making good music?"