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Authors: Carina Lupo

Soundtracks of a Life (13 page)

BOOK: Soundtracks of a Life
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N
ext morning we make our way to our last city of the tour. Everyone is feeling excited and happy not only to be all done but also with the news about Chris’ mom. We do the concert with me mostly on vocals and piano as my hand is in no conditions anymore to play the guitar. I play just a few songs on guitar as not to be too disappointing for the fans. It makes for a difficult show since we are playing slightly different versions of the songs but we manage a good performance anyways. Even though it was a good performance, we don’t feel too happy about it because we know it was not our best even if we had given it our best. I know the fans expected me to play my usual guitar solos and I don’t like the feeling that I had let them down.

After the concert
is over we have a little wrap up party with all the crew to thank them for all their hard work throughout the tour. The party takes place in a restaurant in town that Susan had arranged to host our event. There is lots of good food and everyone is in high spirits, laughing and reminiscing about all that had happened during our year long journey together. It is a very bittersweet affair, while we are all happy to be done and going home, we had also spent a year together with these people. That’s enough time to become kind of like a family to each other so it is hard to be parting ways now too.

Before we wrap up the event I get up to say a few words to everyone, they all start cheering and clapping when they see me
ready for a speech, it’s very sweet.

“Well before we get going I would just like thank you all not only for the excellent work and professionalism you’ve shown throughout this tour but also for your friendship. It’s been a pleasure, working and hanging out with such lovely people. It’s been a long year and a lot happens in that amount of time… like for example Ted has explored every night club from Los Angeles to the
Czech Republic, Chris made headlines by punching  a Greek millionaire and I may have gone on a little “Fender” bender…” the crowd laughs at these last few comments. “And I know, probably, each and every one of you have your own memorable story of this last year, but what happens in the tour stays with the tour!” Applauses and lots of cat calls erupt from the crowd.  “So it’s been a blast, I’ll miss you all dearly and I hope we’ll see each other again and maybe work again on another tour. Cheers!” I raise my glass and everyone cheers and then start to say goodbye.

After the party, even though it
’s very late, we decide to just go directly back to the plane and start the awfully long journey back home. It was close to Christmas time now and everyone wanted to get home to their families… well almost everyone.

Chapter 19

 

Exhausted and jet legged after the incredibly long and boring trip back from Japan I open the door of my new temporary apartment in San Francisco. The place is very clean and open, filled with natural light and modernly furnished.  Since I was on the top floor of a high rise, the windows give way to beautiful views of the San Francisco Bay, arguably, one of the most beautiful places on earth. I step inside, letting the door close behind me and quietly stare for a while. I couldn’t help but feel very depressed as I stand there. After a year of traveling around on tour, here I am, coming back to nothing familiar at all. I’m back home but there is nothing homely about it. Aside for a few boxes with my belongings on the floor this whole place is nothing but a hotel room with added delusions of grandeur. I realize the idea of home isn’t about the place with four walls you return to. Home is made by the people and feelings it contains and mine was inevitably empty.

Trying to avoid having to face my grim reality for a little while longer, I use the excuse that I’m exhausted and decide to take a shower and go immediatel
y to bed for a little rest.  It’s not surprising that I’m fast asleep even before my head hit the pillow.

I w
ake up sometime later, completely disoriented. A bell is ringing somewhere. It takes me a few minutes to figure it out even the most basic things like, where am I? For a moment, I don’t even remember if I was back yet. When I finally understand my location, I figure the bell ringing is someone at my front door. I get up and walk through the living room to get the door. I notice it’s already dark outside now. ‘
Holy crap… how long was I asleep?
’ I think to myself as I finally open the door and have my first pleasant sight since coming back. Chris standing in front of me, a big, warm smile on his face, fresh flowers in one hand and a bag that smells delicious in the other. He hadn’t shaved in a while and was a little bit rougher around the edges which just made him look even sexier to me, if that was possible!

“Is that food?” Amazingly, that’s the first thing I say to him. The jet leg and the fact that I had not eaten now for what would probably be almost a day, had obviously messed with my priorities!

“Yup,” he answers cheerfully.

“You’re my hero!” I say giving him a huge smile and the
tightest hug I could muster. He puts everything he is carrying down on the table and hugs me back so tight he pulls me right off the floor. We share a long hot kiss and bask in the nearness of each other for a moment.

“Sorry Chris.  I really meant
to call you,” I say immediately feeling guilty. “I decided to take a little rest, then call you and go visit your mom, but I guess my body didn’t agree with that part of my plan. I just woke up now at the sound of the doorbell.”

“It’s okay, I figured as much. That’s why I came bearing supplies, lots of Italian food from that restaurant that we like! We can go visit my mom tomorrow, don’t worry.”

“How’s your mom doing?” I ask him, while he looks around the kitchen hunting for any sort of eating utensils.

“Oh, she’s ok
. She’s really recovering well! The doctors said that if she keeps going like that they might be able to let her go home for Christmas even.”

“That’s wonderful news Chris!”

Chris stares at me with a questioning look on his face, as he quickly opens and closes every drawer in my kitchen. “Do you think there is anything we can use to eat in this place?”

“If you haven’t found any there, they will probably be in one of th
ese many boxes over there, that I do not plan to open right now before I eat. I’m starving!”

“Well, I guess we’ll make do.
” He laughs, “I’m glad they included a couple of plastic forks and knives with my ‘to go’ order. I’m not really looking forward to finding out what eating saucy pasta with our hands would feel like,” he says mockingly as he puts the food on the glass table and pulls out one of the chrome and white chairs taking a seat.

“Luckily, I do happen to have some wine glasses and wine, courtesy of Hathaway Winery, the only box here that I know what’s inside!” I grab a
Cabernet Sauvignon, a couple of glasses and a wine opener from the box and take a sit next to him at the table. When I hand him the glass he sees my hurt fingers. Immediately, the smile vanishes from his face.

“What
the heck happened to your fingers?” he asks frowning.

“It’s nothing really,” I say casually
trying to sound dismissive. “I played guitar a little too much… just got a bit of raw skin on my fingers.”

“A li
ttle? No way! Look at your hand! You don’t get like that unless you played guitar like a complete maniac.”


Guilty as charged
,’ I think to myself. I couldn’t have described it any better… but I don’t say anything to him I just look away not being able to stand the intensity in his eyes.

“When did this happen?” he asks me angrily.

“I don’t know, the day after you left I guess.”

“It was after I called you that night wasn’t it?”

I don’t answer that question either but I know that he knows the answer to that too. He runs his hands over his hair looking worried. “Please don’t hurt yourself like that anymore Lor,” he says tenderly, intense worry still clouding his eyes.

“How did you know to come to this place by the way? I just found out about it recently myself!” I say casually again, desperately trying to change subjects.

“I called Susan’s assistant to find out.”

“Oh okay.”

“Wait, if this happened that night, then how did you play two more concerts after that? There is no way you could have played guitar like that.” He continues, giving me a look that lets me know he wasn’t going to drop this until he had gotten all his answers.

I
let out a heavy, resigned sigh. “I played mostly second guitar parts on the first show and on the next show I played mostly piano.”


It’s crazy you played at all, I can’t believe Susan let you play like that! It must have been really painful.”

“First of all it was my choice
. I did this, so it was all on me. Poor Susan wasn’t at fault. She had no choice. We can’t cancel shows at the last minute...” my voice trails off. “Geez, just give me a break will you? What’s happened, happened, it’s done and gone. Can we please move on? The food is getting cold,” I say, sounding a little bit more defensive than I had wanted to.

“Ok,” he gives in now, seeing that the matter
is stressing me out. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I just don’t like to see you hurt that’s all,” he says. “But you are right it’s over now, we are together again and that’s what matters,” he continues, finally giving me a smile again and immediately melting away my resentment. I pour us some wine and start scarfing the delicious food so quickly you would think I was worried it might be taken away from me if I didn’t. Eventually I notice Chris is watching me with an amused look.

“Oh stop judging me,” I
say my mouth full of pasta, “I’m freaking starving here.”

“No, I couldn’t tell that at all,” he says
laughing at my less than dignified eating style.

After
we scarf all the food, we take our wine glasses to the living room and sit on the couch enjoying the view and catching up on the happenings of the days we were apart.

Once we run out of updates, my mind wanders to a different subject. “Hey Chris, do remember Anne that friend of ours
from Stanford on her senior year of law school?”

“You mean Anne
Scheiffer? The one everyone mocked because she wanted to work mostly pro bono?”

“Yeah that’s the one. Do you still have her phone number?”

He looks at me intrigued by the request. “Yeah I think I do, why?”

“I would like to meet up with her. Maybe you can call her and see if she can join me for lunch tomorrow?”

“Yeah sure. Why?” He says not all that interested in the answer as he leaning in against me for a kiss.

“I’ll explain it to you later.” I say
as my interest is now definitely wandering elsewhere.

I
feel his body over mine his hand slowly running over my body. We’re both a bit tipsy from the wine, kissing with abandon.  It feels so good I can hardly stand it.

“When are you going to give me the tour of the bedroom?” he asks grinning, desire burning in his eyes.

“Oh how rude of me, let me rectify this impoliteness right now.” I say smiling as I pull him with me towards the bedroom.

 

**************

 

The next day at lunch time I drive to a restaurant downtown to meet with Anne. When I get there, she is already at a table waiting. She hadn’t changed much from when I had seen her last in college. She still have a young looking face and long brown hair that she always puts in a ponytail and glasses that give her a very studious look.

“Hi
Anne, I’m Lorelai, I don’t know if you remember me from college? I say as I greet her and take a seat.

“Yes of course. I do remember you fr
om school but even if I didn’t… I don’t think you require introductions anymore.”

“Fair enough,” I say smiling. “
It has been a while since college… How are you doing?”

“I’m good,” she answers with a puzzled look in her face. I could tell she was wondering why she was
here in the first place.

“I’m sure you want to know what this is all about,” I say, putting her out of her misery.

“Yes, no offense, not that I’m not having fun sitting in a fancy restaurant having lunch with a celebrity while other people steal glances at us, but yeah, I’m intrigued.”

“Well consider it a business meeting. Where are you working now?”

She raises her eyebrow surprised at where this conversation is going. “I’m working at a small law office close to the financial district. We mostly handle cases ‘pro bono’ helping people who need a lawyer but can’t afford one… Most of the time we only get paid if we win the case.”

“So why did you choose to go that route? With a Stanford law degree, I’m sure you could have gotten a job as an Associate at a big fancy firm, probably making more in a week than you make now in a year?

“Did my dad send you or something?” she asks me half-jokingly.

I laugh. “No, sorry, I didn’t mean to sound like I’m questioning your choice, I’m just curious as to what made you choose that. I take it your dad
is not thrilled at your choice?”

“No, believe me, I hear
about it every day! He is still hoping it’s just a phase that I’ll grow out of it eventually and get a “real job”. But it’s what I like doing. I wanted to become a layer so I could help ordinary people. I did an internship for one of those big law firms before. Most of the time, in a law office like that, you don’t get to help the average person and even worse, a lot of times you end up defending some asshole against the person you should be helping. That’s not what I want. So I decided to go to a small firm instead. Sure the pay sucks and I get mocked for my choice, but at least every day I can do what I believe in, instead of slowly negotiating  away who I am.” She finishes and takes at bite of the bruschetta appetizers we ordered. “Well that’s me in a nutshell,” she says in between bites. “But you still haven’t really said why we are here. I imagine it’s not to chit chat.”

“I’m thinking about offering you a job,” I say plainly.

She looks at me a bit shocked, “Wow, okay, I did not see that coming!” She gives me a nervous laugh. “So, what is this job? What can I possibly do for a rock band?” she asks, intrigued.

“Not for my
band but for myself to be more specific. I’ll cut to the chase. I’m making a lot of money with the band and our music right now. You may or may not know this but I was already well off before the band started to get famous. My family’s business and investments generate quite a bit of income. So basically I have way more money than I need. I have no family to take care of or share with, so I would like to start donating quite a bit towards charity.”

“Well that is very nice of you but I still don’t understand what can I do to help you?”

“I’m planning to donate fairly large amounts each year. When you deal with that kind of money things need to be done properly otherwise not only it can go to waste but your name can get dragged into a mess as well. That’s why I want a lawyer to take care of it for me.

I want to start a non-profit organization, The Hathaway Family Foundation, and I would like to hire you to run it
, should you be interested of course. Your job would be to search for causes and charities you think are worth donating the money to. Then you would vet the chosen organizations by closely inspecting each charity before any money is handed over to them. Once you feel you are ready to donate to a charity, you would then contact me and tell me all about it. I’ll okay it and you can handle the paperwork and donations. After donations are made I want you to also make sure that the money is going where it’s supposed to go. The Foundation itself will also go through audits that will be conducted by my personal lawyer to make sure everything is in order in our end.

BOOK: Soundtracks of a Life
3.83Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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