“Is Ziggy kicking you again?” she asked, a big part of her full of envy at the life that her friend and occasional lover was growing in her body.
The kicks were now a regular occurrence, and strong enough now that others could feel them by putting a hand on her belly. Jake remembered with a sense of awe the first time he had actually felt an unmistakable fetal movement by his daughter. “She’s calming down now,” Laura said. “She was really hammering me when the music was playing a few minutes ago.”
“Oh yeah?” Celia asked.
“Ziggy definitely likes music,” Laura said. “Whenever we’re playing or when I’m listening to it at home, she gets really active in there. And then, when it stops, she calms down.”
“She’s certainly got musical genes in her,” Celia said.
“Or, it’s just part of God’s great plan,” Jake said.
Both ladies looked at him strangely.
“That’s what your brother told me when I suggested the existence of musical genes,” he explained. “He said there are no musical genes, that your musical talent and mine were instilled upon us by God so that we could fulfill our part in his plan.”
“What plan is that?” Laura asked.
“For us to meet and get married was how I understood the explanation,” Jake said.
“Just that?” Laura asked.
“What do you mean ‘just that’?” Jake asked. “Don’t you think that you and I hooking up was a good plan?”
“It was all right,” she said with a shrug. “It’s just that I’m not sure it rises to the level of divine intervention or anything. Wouldn’t you think that if God had a plan that involved instilling us with musical talent so we would find each other, it would have an end goal a little more profound than us jumping into the sack one night and then eventually deciding we actually loved each other enough to get married and have a little Ziggy?”
“Perhaps,” Jake said.
“Were you and your brother-in-law drinking, by chance, when you had this divine plan conversation?” asked Celia.
“Uh ... well, yeah, we kind of were.”
“Kind of?”
He shrugged. “It was Budweiser from the can,” he said.
She nodded her head wisely. “That explains a lot,” she said.
“You don’t actually believe that, do you, sweetie?” Laura asked. “That some supreme being who controls everyone’s fate just wrote my musical talent into me for the express purpose of having me meet you some twenty-six years later?”
“No, not really,” he said. “It was an interesting point of view though.”
“Budweiser from the can will do that for you,” Laura said with a giggle.
“I suppose,” Jake said with a sigh. He took a drink of his green tea and then popped another French fry into his mouth.
“So ... speaking of getting laid,” Celia suddenly blurted, though with her volume somewhat muted to keep others from overhearing.
Jake and Laura both looked at her. “Were we speaking about that?” Jake asked.
“Well ... no,” Celia said, “but we should be.”
“Should we?” Laura asked, a little shine in her green eyes. Though she was now well into the third trimester of her pregnancy, the second trimester hormones had still not given up their prominent position.
“We should,” Celia whispered. “I was hoping that maybe the two of you could come over for a little visit after rehearsal today. It is Friday, after all.”
“Yes it is,” Jake said, smiling a little, already starting to feel warm inside. “No need to get up early tomorrow.”
“No real reason not to have a visit, right?” asked Laura.
They looked at each other and exchanged sly smiles. No, there was no real reason not to, those smiles said.
“Perhaps we could pop by for a bit on our way to the airport,” Laura offered, although Malibu was nearly an hour away from Santa Clarita (assuming reasonable traffic, which most certainly could not be assumed on the LA freeways) and the airport in question was only ten minutes away in the opposite direction. “What do you say, sweetie?”
“Yeah,” he said casually. “I think we can make a little side trip for a friendly visit.”
“All right then,” Celia said happily. “It’s a date.”
“I’d better go call Elsa,” Jake said. “Remember what happened the last time we decided to visit without giving her advance notice.”
Laura remembered. Elsa had made a pot roast dinner that had gone uneaten because the people she had prepared it for had decided to eat something else in Malibu. It had not been a pleasant scene when they finally arrived home. You have never really been dressed down until you’ve been dressed down by an angry Nigerian housekeeper who had put food on the table for someone who hadn’t bothered to show up or even call to say they weren’t going to show up.
“Good idea,” Laura said solemnly.
Jake trotted back to the phone and made the call. Elsa listened to him and politely thanked him for letting her know they were not going to be home at the usual time.
“Will you be home at some point this evening?” she asked.
“Oh yes,” Jake said. “We’re still flying back tonight. Celia just invited us over for dinner at her place. We should be back between nine and ten.”
“Very good, Jake,” she said. “There are two dozen of those farm fresh eggs you like and a pound of that Italian sausage in the refrigerator if you want to make breakfast in the morning.”
“Sounds good, Elsa,” Jake said. “Have a good evening and enjoy your weekend off.”
They finished their lunch and then went back to work. Having become a bit burned on working up Journey, they spent the second half of the workday getting familiar with another tune. This one was called When You’re Lonely. It had been introduced to the band only two days before and, while the average listener would likely not be able to pick up on the meaning of the lyrics beyond the fact that it was a testament to moving on from a failed primary relationship to a rebound relationship that had no real hope of lasting, every one of the band members—who knew Celia and her secrets quite well—understood on the first presentation that she was singing about her affair with Suzy the pilot. It was a melancholy piece that evoked strong emotion, especially now, considering the fact that Suzy and Celia had not seen each other in several months. Suzy did not know who Celia had found to replace her, but she knew she had been replaced. Heartbroken, she had accepted a pilot-in-command position in Houston, flying Gulfstreams out of Ellington Field, and had made no attempts at communication with Celia since. The references to the rebound lover in the lyrics were deliberately gender-neutral, which would lead most to conclude she was singing about some nameless guy, but composed with clear affection and love with an unmistakable undertone of sadness.
No one mentioned to Celia that they knew what the tune was about. They did not have to. They simply worked on it professionally, like the musicians they were. Today they progressed beyond the basic acoustic version of the piece and started the process of working it up into what it would eventually be. This was where the teamwork and musical relationship between Celia and Jake truly shined. Celia suggested that the verses of the song remain at the tempo she had composed it and that her twelve-string would remain the primary melodic instrument. Jake agreed that this would work but suggested that for the choruses they go up-tempo and switch to a moderately distorted electric guitar for the melody here, backed by a strong backbeat of drums and bass.
“That could work,” Celia said thoughtfully after pondering this. “Show me what you mean.”