“Oh, he’s very happy. Back in New York. Got a regular gig in some jazz bar. The tour paid his bills for a few years. He’s going to be living the life he always wanted to live, professional musician with absolutely no drama.”
“Good, I’m happy for him,” I say. “Do you have a number for him?”
“Yes, I’ll get it to you.”
“Thank you,” I say, wondering already if I could coax Clarence away from that life when it comes to recording my debut solo album.
“Even if you don’t want me as your manager,” Kevin says as he reaches for his car keys. “I hope we can stay friends, keep in touch.”
“Of course, Kevin,” I say, and I feel a punch of emotion in my gut. “Of course, we’ll stay friends.”
“I know Martin and Pia…” he begins, but I hold a hand up.
“That’s for Martin and Pia to figure out.”
As if summoned by her name, I hear the front door slam shut. Kevin and I are walking across the kitchen when Pia appears in the doorway.
“Oh, you’re still here,” she says to Kevin.
“Lovely to see you too, Pia.” He flashes her a disingenuous smile.
“Play nice,” I say to them both.
“Yeah, I mean just because me and Martin are…together.” Kevin stumbles only slightly. “Doesn’t mean I am an extension of him.”
“I’m not mad at Martin.” Pia goes to the fridge and grabs a Coke. “He can’t help being a bossy asshole.”
A burst of laughter flies out of Kevin’s mouth. “I don’t disagree. But seriously, he cares about you.”
Pia’s eyebrows lift. “He has a funny way of showing it.”
“Hmm.” Kevin crosses the remaining distance in the kitchen. “Maybe you and him have more in common than you think, then?”
He walks out before Pia can reply.
“What was that?” She points at the space he just vacated.
“I think he was trying to say that you and Martin may try to come across as tough nuts, but actually”–I walk up to her and wrap my arms around her waist–“there’s a softness inside you.”
Pia smooths my hair away from my face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“How was your appointment?” I ask.
A sequence of emotions flutters over Pia’s face.
This was not Pia’s first appointment with her ear doctor. She went yesterday for her intake appointment, and we were both shocked when he asked to see her again today, but apparently, even ENT doctors can be a little star-struck and will make anything happen for their favourite musician.
It’s hard to call what happened yesterday a success, as it resulted in Dr Gupta concluding that Pia has moderate hearing loss in her right ear and moderately severe hearing loss in the other. His assessment was that the cause was likely a combination of exposure to loud noises over the last decade or so along with a possible genetic predisposition to hearing loss – something that Pia was quick to blame on her absent father.
Pia didn’t want to talk about it much after she gave me the rundown. We’d spent much of the evening curled up together on the couch listening to Joan Armitrading, and I didn’t say anything when I felt a few of her tears fall on my chest.
But I’d been very relieved when she’d gone to her appointment today.
Finally, Pia’s expression lands on something like apprehensive joy. She turns her head and lifts her hair. “Look.”
The hearing aid curls around her ear. It’s bulky and a strange yellow colour, but I didn’t even notice it when she had her hair down.
“Is it on?”
