Even though Gena was by far the best thing to ever happen to me, it was not just my relationship with her that was going well. The band in which I played, a heavy metal outfit called Assassination, had gotten a gig almost every weekend. Rehearsals are great, but nothing pulls you together as a unit faster than playing in front of a crowd.
Okay, “crowd” may be a little strong, but even playing keggers seemed like a crowd instead of the normal audience of just our girlfriends. We were making more money than we were spending for the first time in the year we had been playing together, and Sean and Jimmy were writing some great songs.
As a matter of fact, the only really bad thing in my life was my stupid car. I was tired of sinking money into it and was saving up to buy a new one. A friend of my Dad’s had an old VW bus he was willing to sell me, and as soon as I could save a thousand dollars, it was mine. Not only would the VW make for an easier way to haul my guitars and amps but it had a bed in the back. Gena and I could not wait.
So even though the band was doing so well, I was still working thirty plus hours at “the Box”. Flipping burgers wasn’t glamorous, but it paid steady and I had been there long enough that I was making almost a dollar more than minimum wage. At $4.80 an hour, that thousand bucks was not that far off. Besides, it gave me a chance to get paid for being with my best friend.
If Gena was my muse, Sandy was my mentor. Sandy was a few years older than me on the calendar but she was light years ahead in experience. At 26 she had already been dealt a rough hand by life but she just kept going. Being a single mother was hard, even in the modern world of the eighties. Yet she never complained much. A couple of times she had confessed to me how lonely it could get, but with her mom and dad helping with her daughter and the life insurance money socked away, she was better off than most people in her situation. Becoming a widow at 22 could have killed her spirit, but instead she was the strongest lady I had ever met.
I told Sandy everything of course. After all, she had been my confidant long before Gena came along and I still trusted her opinion and loved how she did not treat me like a child despite our age difference. She was very excited for me. She never made it to gigs because of the kid, but she had started taking Tae Kwan Do lessons at the same dojo where Gena studied. Gena and Sandy hung out together quite a bit lately, and I think Gena knew how much I told Sandy, but she never seemed to mind.
Gena told me she was glad I had a friend like Sandy.
One September Thursday, Sandy gave me a surprise.
“Lance, all these months I’ve heard how great you are on that guitar,” Sandy said to me as we were getting ready for the lunch rush, “I think it’s time I heard it for myself.”
“What do you mean?” I replied.
“Well, Gena told me you have a real show this Saturday night, not just a party.
She said you’re opening for a band from Hollywood at a little spot in North Park.”
“Yeah,” I said with pride, “Our first time on a real bill. I’ve got a flier in my locker.
But how can you come? What about Missy?”
“Greg’s parents are picking her up from school on Friday and are going to take her to Disneyland all weekend. I think they’re crazy to take a five year old to D-land two straight days, but I can use the adult time. Besides,” said Sandy, “This means I can sit stage right with Gena and play groupie.”
“Yeah right,” I replied with my best wicked little grin, “You have no idea how much I’d like you to play groupie.”
“Why Lance,” said Sandy in a false southern drawl, “Whateva must y’all mean?”
So saying she brushed past me to go back to the cooler. As she moved past me I could have sworn I felt her fingertips run across my ass! But no, I must have been imagining things. Sandy was a sweetheart and a great gal, but she had already proven that she had no interest in me that way.
Back when I first started working at JB’s, I was paired up with Sandy on my very first day. By the time I went to lunch I was in love. Okay, maybe that is a little bit strong.
I was in lust. Sandy had the blond-haired blue-eyed surfer girl look down perfectly. Her body was trim and hard. She was not super thick in any place, but she was very muscular. I imagined her build must be similar to that of a ballerina or jazz dancer, although I had never met one to test the theory. Her skin was very tan, since she still spent a lot of time out in the sun when she was not trapped in the grease pit we worked in. She looked like the kind of girl the quarterback would have dated in high school. In other words, way out of my league.
It actually kind of calmed me down to think of her that way. Knowing I did not have a chance, I never tried to impress her. I think that is what paved the way for us to become friends.
Despite the age difference and the fact that she was technically my boss, Sandy and I talked a lot at work. We also flirted outrageously. It was all in fun, but it still felt good when she would make teasing little comments to me or when she would deliberately make them to someone else in a way that assured me it was really for my ears. In a way, Sandy was the best thing to happen to my self-esteem in my whole life until Gena came along. She helped me overcome enough of my shyness that when I did finally get the chance to get to know a girl like Gena, I managed not to blow it. I would be paying that one back forever, even if Sandy was not really aware of it.
Like I said though, I knew pretty much right away that Sandy was out of my league, and as I learned more about her this was reinforced.
Sandy had a thing for pilots. Not airline pilots, or guys that flew piper cubs. No, Sandy had a thing for the best in the world. I knew for a fact that she often would go hang out at the officers club up in Miramar. Seen Top Gun? That is what I am talking about. Sandy had a thing for guys who faced danger as a daily business. That was how she had met Missy’s father.
Greg had been one of them, the best of the best. I knew Sandy would never forget him, because our friendship went both ways and I had held her a few times while she cried over what had happened. I told her Greg was a hero. He could have bailed out when the F-14 was still over houses and saved himself, but instead he and his navigator rode the jet right into the side of a vacant hillside. Greg and I had never met, but I knew he had given his life to save others. I respected him for it. I also thought he had been crazy.
Once he knew the plane was pointed into the hills he could have got out. How could you give up a gal like Sandy? I wonder if it would have changed things if he had known about Missy.
Before I met Gena my number one goal had been to try and get Sandy in bed.
Like I said, I knew it was a long shot at best, so I stayed playful and unassuming about it, never arrogant or pushy. She would play along and flirt with me, but whenever we were alone it toned down instead of heating up. For a while I kidded myself. Told myself that I could tell Sandy was holding back. I even thought I had figured out her reason.
She did not want to get involved with me because she thought she would be taking advantage of an innocent boy.
After I turned eighteen it was a little harder to convince myself of that. Eventually, I realized that flirting was all that was ever going to happen between us. Mind you, I still tried to change her mind.
Then I met Gena, and everything changed. Sandy and I still flirted but now I had a reason to end it there. I did not want to do anything to cause a rift between Gena and I. I was head over heels for Gena. Still, every time I looked at Sandy I remembered why I had wanted her in the first place.
So even though Gena and Sandy becoming friends was the best thing that could happen, sometimes it was a little bittersweet. There they were, my lover and my wildest fantasy, walking side by side. What would Gena think of me if she ever knew that?