Building my home studio was no easy feat. To have a room in an apartment building, up to code, that allowed me to play an electric guitar without headphones and not have a noise complaint filed was an architectural accomplishment. Not onlywas it a functional studio, but the design was stunning. It was my favorite place to be in my home.
Other than in my bed with Maryellen.
Since Jerry booked my night at Iggy’s, I’ve been in my studio more than average. Every night, as soon as I got home from the office, I went straight in. If Maryellen was over, she’d come hang out and listen for a while.
Tonight was not one of those nights.
I wanted her to come over. Asked her to. But she said it had been too long since she’d slept in her own bed. There was no way with the show only two nights away I could stay at her place. I needed to practice.
I knew it was for the best since I didn’t want her hearing the song I was practicing. After her rough day, it just didn’t make me feel good knowing she was home alone in her apartment.
Plus, there were so many unanswered questions.
Because she did a great job of avoiding me for most of the remainder of the day. We had a late lunch together, but with other people. There were no private conversations. And her walls were still up.
I decided to call her.
She picked up on the second ring.
“Hi,” she said.
It was a cheerful hello. But there was something off about it, and I hated she was keeping something from me.
“Hey, how’s it feel to be home, at your place?”
The soft, breathy chuckle that came through the line sounded more like her, and my own breathing slowed. I hadn’t realized how anxious I’d been all day.
“I know you wanted me to come home with you, but it feels nice to be here. Me and Evie are gonna have some takeout and watch a movie tonight. And then I’m gonna catch up on some reading.”
The idea of her spending the night with her best friend calmed my nerves even more.
“Good, that makes me happy. I’m practicing all night anyway, so it’s perfect.” I kicked my feet up on the amp in front of me, relaxing into my leather chair. “I just wanted to check on you.”
There were muffled sounds as she moved around. “Yeah, today wasn’t my best day. I freaked out when I thought I missed the meeting and overreacted. I’m sorry.” I heard running water and more shuffling sounds. “I’m putting fresh water in the bouquet you got me. The flowers still look beautiful.”
I couldn’t tell if she was deflecting.
“Well, I’m glad to hear you’re seeing Evie tonight. Tell her hi for me, and that she needs to take care of my girl.”
Knowing Maryellen was in good hands allowed me to focus on my task: my music.
One of the songs I was putting into the playlist was an original. I wasn’t sure where to put it yet in the lineup, I was still working on that. I’d start with covers, allowing the crowd to be familiar with the music while hearing and learning my voice.
Sam: Hey man, wanna grab a beer I’m meeting Ely
On any other night I would’ve jumped at this, especially because of the shitty day with Mare.
Me: Practicing for Wednesday, save some cash, I have beer, you two come here and be my audience
I didn’t get a response, so I figured the offer wasn’t ideal. They were probably more interested in either watching a game out or being on the prowl, neither of which I had interest in. AsI put my guitar around my neck, ready to get back to practicing, my phone pinged.
Sam: We’ll be right over
They would be the perfect distraction.
Both were at my place, beers in hand, within thirty minutes. They sat in my studio, on the couch, having fun as they critiqued my playing. This was exactly what I needed to get into the right frame of mind.
They loved the covers I chose to play and sang along, growing louder the drunker they got. But when it came time for me to practice my original, I found myself pausing.
