Oral Dilemma: Jam

  Roxanne has been buried in grief so long she's lost all confidence in herself. Sometimes when we least expect it, opportunity knocks.   

 Storytime Trysts does not own copyrights to this image. 

Oral Dilemma: Jam

By

Ellie Mack 

Read Part 1 here. 

Read Part 2 here. 

Read Part 3 here.

Read Part 4 here. 

Read part 5 here.  
Read part 6 here.
Read part 7 here.  
Read part 8 here. 
Read part 9 here.
Read part 10 here.  
Read part 11 here.
Read part 12 here 
Read part 13 here
Read part 14 here.
Read part 15 here. 

Read Part 16 here 

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    Sirens blared, loud sirens going off that caused instant stabbing pain inside my head. A chain reaction of explosions that I just knew was killing brain cells. I covered my head with the blanket, praying for it to stop. After a few seconds it did but then restarted a few minutes later. It woke me enough to have to use the bathroom. As I staggered down the hall I realized it wasn’t sirens but rather my phone.

It took a concerted effort to read my phone, finally just hitting replay on my voice messages.

“Roxy this is Mike, I need you to come in at 2. It’s eleven and I haven’t heard back. Are you there?“There was a beep then another message.

“Roxanne, doll. I really need you to get up. You have to be here at 2. Call me! That’s it I’m coming over if you haven’t called me back by noon.”Again there was a beep.

It rang again in my hand “Hello?”

“Good. You’re finally up.”

“Finally? What the heck Mike, I’m not scheduled till seven.” I searched the refrigerator while talking.

“It’s nearly noon, I need you here by 2. Well before that actually. Change of plans doll, stuff happens you know? Tell you what, I’ll be there in half an hour to pick you up.”

It figured that when I had a hangover Carly would skip her shift. “No Mike I can be there.”

“You won’t regret it.”

“ I already do.” I yelled into the phone.

I could hear him laugh on the other end.“I’ll be there in a half an hour.” He hung up on me. I closed the fridge empty handed and went to shower.

At twelve thirty there was pounding on my door. “Ugh. For the love of God Mike stop it!” I screamed as I opened the door.

He stood there grinning like a kid with a new toy. “Wanted to make sure you hadn’t gone back to bed.” He shoved a bag of bagels and a large coffee at me. “You’re gonna like this Roxy.”

I groaned as he followed me to the kitchen. Coffee was little consolation for the explosion in my head.

“Tara around? She can come in with you as well.”

“I think she’s in class” Then I looked at the clock. “Oh, well she should be back any minute.

“Good, good!” Mike was agitated. I hadn’t seen him this excited since, well I hadn’t ever.

I listened to him ramble on about getting the band together, I envisioned a group of middle aged men like in that movie “Wild Hogs”. I couldn’t help but smile. There was a gleam in Mike’s eye that I hadn’t seen before. “What’s going on Mike?” I tore off a hunk of bagel and chewed.

“New thing! Well, a renewed thing. Gonna make some changes.”

“When did you decide all this?” I chewed another bite.

“Last night. Thought about it for a while, been wanting to do it but last night made up my mind. It’s time.”

Just as I finished my bagel, Tara came in. She was surprised to see him, but quickly agreed to go in with us. She changed clothes, then grabbed the bagel to eat on the way. There was only two times before that Mike had picked me up. The first was to get my official waitress uniform, he paid for the outfit and told me what was acceptable and not acceptable. He didn’t want any of the girls working for him to dress inappropriately. He saw a bit of his daughter in all of us. The second time my car was in the shop and it was pouring down rain.

When we arrived at the club Carly was working. This made me wonder what was up even more as I figured I was covering her shift.

“I thought you said Carly couldn’t make her shift?” I looked at Mike suspiciously.

“Never said that doll, you just assumed.” I could have sworn his eyes just twinkled. I really hated mind games but there was a certain fascination in watching Mike like up like a Christmas bulb.

I worked in the back room stocking the shelves occasionally catching a glimpse of Mike with an energy and excitement that I’d not seen before. I moved to the kitchen, cleaning the shelves and work surface. I heard several voices with Mike along with a great deal of clattering noise.

“Roxanne, come out here.”

I wiped my hands on my apron and grabbed a tray. Four distinguished gentlemen sat around the largest table with Mike. I took their orders then returned with their drinks.”

Once the food was served, I went back to the kitchen helping Mark with food preparations. I chopped vegetables,acting as his sou chef. Tara came in and took over what I was doing grinning like a fool. She told me to clean up and go check with Mike.

I wondered what was going on that I didn’t know about. It seemed everyone kept looking at me strangely. Were they talking about how poorly I did on the karaoke thing last night? That thought only made me more self conscious and wondering what was up.

Pushing through the double doors, I saw that the guys were no longer at the table but setting up instruments on the stage. I busied myself bussing the table, certain that it was what Mike wanted, to make sure we made a good impression on his friends. It was really good to see him in good spirits. It was apparent that he was excited for his friends to be there. As I cleaned, I listened to them warm up. The bass player resembled Bruce Willis with the cool confidence of a seasoned performer. The keyboardist began running his fingers over the keys as if he was caressing his lover. His long elegant fingers moved in fluid motions as his long jet black hair fell forward over his eyes as he played. Soon they were moving into familiar riffs of songs that I recognized. I couldn’t help but hum along. It was a secret passion that few people knew I had, a very selfish indulgence.

When they began playing through “Careless Love”, I couldn’t help but hear the soulful sounds of Ray Charles, singing softly under my breath. The guys sounded fantastic together. They sounded better than some bands I’d heard in clubs.

“Love, oh love, oh careless love. Whoa Love, oh love, ohhh careless love. I’ll tell you what careless love can do.”

“Roxy” Mike motioned me over to the band. I blushed, worrying that maybe I got a little loud in my humming and singing. I tucked my cloth in my apron walking sheepishly towards the stage. “Meet the guys. This is Chubs” He introduced the man on drums. He was far from chubby, in fact he looked gaunt and haggard. I shook his hand.

“This is Johnny D on keys” He reached his hand to shake mine, a smooth low sultry voice like Lou Rawls.

“Nice to meet you.” He grinned as he squeezed my hand. “You’re right Mike, she’s a looker.”

I blushed. Wasn’t expecting any compliments, and I knew I certainly wasn’t a “ looker”.

“Sandman on lead.” I shook his hand, he nodded to me not saying a word.

“And this sad case over here is my brother Matt, but we call him Locks.” He shyly extended his hand nodding.

“Guys this is Roxanne Winters, the doll with the voice.” I blushed smiling. “Join us in a little jam session Rox. We have the words printed off for you if you need them.” He handed me a bundle of pages stapled together. “Sing for us doll.”

They started on Kris Kristofferson’s song “Help Me Make IT Through the night.” A smooth transition slipping into “ Aint No Sunshine”. I couldn’t believe they were playing my favorites and letting me sing with them. After that Sandman kicked into some awesome riffs leading into “Damn Your Eyes.”

I loved that song, poured myself into it not caring what anyone thought, just feeling it all the way to the end never looking at the lyrics.

“ You ain’t jokin’ Mike, she got it.” It was Johnny D. “Can we do that one she sung?”

Locks fingers were magic on the strings. The soulful mourning that poured forth was better than Santana, similar to Bonamasso. I started in on Baddest Blues. I saw Tara lean against the bar, just listening, her ankles crossed elbows propped on the bar, tears flowing. There were a few people that had come in for the afternoon that seemed to enjoy the jam.

The last song the guys did was “Rock Me Baby.” I imagined the divine Etta James singing as I belted it out, putting a little extra passion into the song. It was a sensuous song after all, the sultry wails with a touch of raunch, made the lyrics “rock me baby, like I ain’t got no backbone” really hit home with me, pouring my heart into it.

When we finished, the place was packed and the applause was deafening.

Mike turned around grinning like a fiend, happy with his friends in the band. He looked out over the audience, basking in the applause and said: “Roxanne Winters, you’re fired.”

Oral Dilemma: The Baddest Blues

Roxanne has really had a rough go of things.  It's about time things start to look up, don't you think?    

 Storytime Trysts does not own copyrights to this image.

Read Part 1 here. 

Read Part 2 here. 

Read Part 3 here.

Read Part 4 here. 

Read part 5 here.  
Read part 6 here.
Read part 7 here.  
Read part 8 here. 
Read part 9 here.
Read part 10 here.  
Read part 11 here.
Read part 12 here 
Read part 13 here
Read part 14 here.
Read part 15 here. 

    I worked with Mike for about six months before he gave Tara a job as well. She graduated from high school with honors, earning the same scholarship that I had earned. I was so proud of my sister. We met with dad and Tammy, it was an awkward time at best. Tammy was pleasant enough, but the tension was high with dad.

I wasn’t about to apologize and Tara just sat quietly observing. I had discussed with her the potential of dad offering the summer job again and we’d decided that she’d stay with me. It was a college town and there were many job openings, several that Tara had already applied for besides working at the Smoked Velvet. Dad never offered the summer job.

In those six months, I slowly had gained some weight back. I never thought I’d be too thin but when I woke from my grieving I looked terrible. I was currently at the point where my clothes were getting a little tight. I had gone back to the gym and built up to a thirty minute workout. I felt good with my body, I was firm and toned, if not a little plump. But the  passion I once had for the fighting was gone.

Working as many hours as Mike would give me, I managed to catch up on our bills before the sale of mom’s house went through. Mom’s lawyer worked with Tara and me to invest most of our money, leaving us a tidy sum to have available for college expenses and whatever we needed. Tara suggested that I begin seeing a counselor to get over my depression. It really helped in a lot of ways, but I couldn’t quite get over the heart ache I felt since Luke was just gone. I never got to say goodbye.

I had gotten into a habit of working the evening shift since I didn’t have any social life to speak of. Friday and Saturday nights were crowded. Mike had recently decided to have a karaoke night a couple times a month. It seemed to be a huge hit, drawing a large crowd into the Smoked Velvet.

A couple patrons bought me drinks trying to get me to lighten up. I accepted the drinks and continued working. Mike bought me a couple rounds. Nobody seemed to understand that staying busy took my mind off the date, or maybe nobody knew that it would have been my wedding day.

The drinks took the edge off while I worked. Towards the end I was challenged by a couple of the college guys that were Luke’s friends. One of them called me chicken and well, I had to do it. I dried my hands and removed my apron. Slamming two fingers of scotch, I jabbed at the page and selected “ The Baddest Blues”.

I hadn’t sang in ages, I didn’t care. It was all heart. I poured myself into that song as others might drown their sorrows in a bottle. I drew every ounce of pain and anguish I'd felt since my life went to hell. I gave everything of myself not caring what I sounded like, not caring if anyone was even listening. My eyes were closed most of the time seeing Luke’s face just before boarding that plane.

“When your baby leave you, going to break your heart in two.

I said when your baby leave you, there ain’t nothin’, nothin' that you can do.

I cried myself a river, but it won’t take me back to you.

That’s the baddest blues, the baddest blues I ever know.

When he’s gone, gone, gone,  and he ain't never comin’ back again.

He done left me all alone, and he  never comin’ back again.

That’s the baddest blues, the baddest blues I ever know.”

 

I think the booze helped stave off the tears or else I’d just cried myself out already. It felt good to just cut loose and pour the soulful melody out. I could hear Etta James in my head, B. B. King with Lucille on the riffs. When the song ended and I opened my eyes there was no applause, only silence. I sighed and walked off the stage, back to work, stopping at my friend’s table to collect their bet. They stared at me handing over the twenty with their mouth’s gaping.

That was the last straw, the last humiliation I could take. I grabbed the twenty and walked out the back door. I grabbed a bottle of Jack on my way out and took off walking. I went to the park where Luke and I  would often work out together and sat under the tree where we sometimes studied. One specific time came to my mind, a fall day when we laughed together.

I cried my goodbyes to Luke, remembering all the good times we had. He wouldn’t want me to fail or give up. I’d been doing a lot of that lately. I picked myself up and staggered back to my apartment. For the first time since he died, I didn’t sleep in his clothes. I slipped on my own pajamas and made the conscious decision that I would start over.

Oral Dilemma: Smoked Velvet

 How do you pick yourself up from rock bottom when life isn't finished pushing you down? 

Storytime Trysts does not own copyrights to this image. 

 

 Oral Dilemma: Smoked Velvet 

by

Ellie Mack

Read Part 1 here. 

Read Part 2 here. 

Read Part 3 here.

Read Part 4 here. 

Read part 5 here.  
Read part 6 here.
Read part 7 here.  
Read part 8 here. 
Read part 9 here.
Read part 10 here.  
Read part 11 here.
Read part 12 here 
Read part 13 here
Read part 14 here. 

    I’d lost an entire month. Day and night meant nothing to me during that time, it was all one big blur. Nothing could stop the pain. Nothing could fill the hole. I wasn’t suicidal, yet I had no reason to go on. I simply existed. In many ways the time lost was inconsequential to the vacuum left by my mom and Luke.

How had Tara managed? I realize Luke didn’t mean the same to her, but still. I’d have to talk to her, figure out how she managed. Lord knows I was no help to her. It took every ounce of my energy to make myself go forward.

I’d lost a month of classes, there was no way to recover from that and after talking to my professors I withdrew from school. In so doing I forfeited my scholarship. Really there was no help for it because if I’d not withdrawn I’d have received failing grades. Another devastating blow that on it’s own would have been enough to send me into a self pity spiral for weeks.

I went to the gym to get back into my training. I felt tired and weak. My strength was gone, I couldn’t even finish a fifteen minute cardio workout. My stamina just wasn’t there. It was a slap in my face, the current reigning division MMA champion, and I couldn’t even finish fifteen minutes. As I was leaving my rep stopped me.

“Roxy?”

“Hey Derek.” I said weakly.

“Where the hell you and Luke been?” He was beyond pissed. I should have recognized the body posture. IF I’d been in a right frame of mind I would have.

“Derek, Luke was killed in a plane crash.” My eyes burned. I kept telling myself ‘keep it together’ as I blinked back the tears that threated to spill forth.

“What?” He stated it bluntly like I was making it up.

I nodded. “ I’ll uh, bring you a death certificate.”

He pulled me into his office and closed the door. “Rox, I had no idea.” He raked his hands in his hair. “Man I had no idea.” He sat, shaking his head. “Last I saw you, you were heading home to see your mom. How is she?”

My head dropped a little lower. “She died Derek. Then Luke’s crash was the day of her funeral.”

“Oh my God! Rox, are you ok? Damn! No wonder I haven’t seen you. I had no idea.” He shook his head biting his lower lip for a few seconds looking off out the window before turning back to me. “ Maybe we can still pull this out. YOu missed two matches, as did Luke. You were both let go but I can smooth things over for Luke’s case - get me that death certificate and we’ll get his fully funded contract. For you, if you can do the match tomorrow, you’ll be reinstated. I’m certain that when I present the case - explain why you missed, they’ll be lenient in the extenuating circumstances.” He looked down going through the file he had pulled from his drawer.

“I can’t.” There was no way I could physically or emotionally do a match, I couldn’t even do fifteen minutes of cardio. “ I”m not in shape.”

“ You don’t have to win, just show up.” He never looked up.

I leaned forward,elbows on my knees, head in my hand. “ I can’t. She’ll kill me. I need at least a month to get back in shape.” Plus there was Tara. What good would it do her for me to go to a match knowing that it would just be a beat-down?

He crossed his arms in that forceful ‘I know better, you will do this’ look he gets. I think it was the first time he got a good look at me. I was a mess. Thin, frail looking. My skin was ashy. I knew I looked bad - hell I felt one step from death, that death would be welcomed. Except for Tara, she kept me going. As pathetic as it was, I was all she had left. I had to pull myself up from this. I saw it in his eyes, the moment he realized just how much weight and muscle I’d lost. I was not the champion sitting there, but rather a sad broken girl with broken dreams.

“I’m sorry then. Really sorry Roxy. I wish there was something I could do. I mean, you can train and get back to champ, but I don’t see the fire in your eyes anymore. And they won’t offer you a new contract since you’ve defaulted on this one. I’ll see waht I can do to get this months pay at least.”

We talked for another half an hour. He eve tried to convince me to take the beating, knowing that I would heal but even he could see that my fire, my passion was gone. There was still that part of me, my pride that wouldn’t just allow me to step in the ring as a punching bag though. I left there defeated in more ways than losing a match, or my title. I was beaten, life just wouldn’t give Roxanne Winters a break except to break my back.

I stopped in at subway to some lunch using my free pass, one of the perks of my former title. They had already revoked it. DAMN! I walked out frustrated yet again. I wandered down the street aimlessly. I came to a lounge, Smoked Velvet. It was a popular hang out for the art and music students. It didn’t draw the crowds that the club across town that hosted the rock bands did, but it was a great place for a date. Luke and I had gone there on a date when one of his buddies performed. My heart sank - Luke. I found myself pushing in the door and seated before I realized what I’d done.

I ordered a Manhattan and a sandwich. I dug out the little bit of cash I had. The waitress seated me in the same booth where we’d had our date. I nursed my drink while I picked at the sandwich, lost. I had nothing, and I thought I’d hit rock bottom before. Tears silently flowed down my cheeks, leaving a stinging trail behind as I stared off into nothing. A middle aged stocky man walked up to the booth.

“What’s your story?” He sat down uninvited.

“ Pardon me?” I asked a little put out.

“ Your story. You know, why a pretty girl is sitting in my club crying alone.” He motioned to the waitress to bring his drink. He motioned to the waitress to bring his drink, apparently he planned to stay.

“Your club? Do . . . Do you want me to leave?”

“NO. Not at all.” He flipped a business card to me. “ MIke O’Neal. I own this joint. I ain’t asking you to leave doll, I wanna know your story.” He accepted his drink and waited for me to begin.

I thought about it as I chewed a bite of my sandwich. My chin quivering a bit in uncertainty then I said “What the hell?” I told him everything. It didn’t matter, I didn’t know him he didn’t know me. I’d probably never see him again so if he judged me I didn’t care. I didn’t leave out details: the cancer, mom’s death, the fight with dad, Luke’s death, losing my scholarship, the sponsorship, failing my sister - all of it. Finally, when I had emptied it all out he took my hand in his. It wasn’t weird like a creeper, but like a father, a father I had always wanted that wasn’t there.

“Doll, you’ve had a rough deal. I had a daughter, about your age. She was killed in a car wreck four years ago. You need a friend and if you want to talk, my door is open. Now, if you want a job I could really use the help.

“Really?” I swiped at my tears.

He grinned. “Can you start tomorrow?”

“Yes sir I can!”

“No sir doll, it’s Mike. Just Mike. If you piss me off it’s Mr. O’Neal. Your uniform is black pants and a club tee.”

When I walked out there was a single ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds. It broke through the clouds that was my life as well.