In truth, I sat on a text from Betty I hadn’t answered—the one I kept coming back to since she sent it yesterday.
BETTY
I’m in Florida. Where’s my ride to New York?
She knew where we were. The goal was press and to meet with our label. We’d played them the four songs we had. I couldn’t bear the thought of texting her back in any real way. I composed a retort so many times.
I know who you are and this won’t work.
I know it’s cruel, but this is silly.
Why didn’t you tell me who the fuck you were?
So, you want to continue your little experiment?
I didn’t hate her. Perhaps, I never could, but instead of channeling anything into a text, I did what I always had. I put it in my notes app in a hotel room and worked through my issues in private.
“Well, what about the thing you wrote last night?” Alicia asked.
I glared. “It’s super-secret and none of your damn business.”
“Oh, what is it?” Barry ribbed. “We want all your emotional turmoil over that Betty girl, Mar.”
“Don’t say her name!” I rubbed my temples. “I just want to move on.”
“The only way you know is to do the song.” Clarice goaded. “Is it a fuck you song? If so, I’m ready!”
Truthfully, I knew the song had legs, that I could give it aproper life, and that they’d be supportive. It’s just that I wasn’t in the mood to do it. I wasn’t there yet.
“It’s raw and in no shape. I don’t even have any real music down. It’s mostly just a few verses I strung together,” I admitted. “And it’s not so much a ‘fuck you’ song as a ‘why the fuck’ song. It’s not about rage. It’s more like missed connections and wanting something you cannot have.”
“I’m interested,” AJ said.
“They said we needed another ballad, right?” Clarice asked. “So why not shoot from your hip, Mary?”
I relented. “No one judge me. It’s still cooking. In fact, it’s barely even mixed ingredients.”
I freestyled at the piano. The riff I heard in my head was where I began, playing it for a few bars. It was delicate and vulnerable.
Five years I waited.
Waited and pined
I watched their reactions, realizing they weren’t poking fun. Secure in the safety of the space, I continued.
All the while thinking
You were gone in the night
Never to make it right
I talked through the first verse before playing quietly through the words with the simple cords laid beneath. “The fear of waiting leads me astray. Leaving me desperate that one day. She’ll come down from her balcony. To finally see me,min fina.”
“Min fina?”
“My beauty,” I said. “It’s what my Swedish grandfather called my grandmother. It’s old fashioned, but it felt right and it worked in the song.”
“Alright. A little flair for the Swedes,” Alicia encouraged.
