I glared at her until she backed down. She snorted at me though and flounced back to her office. It was the first time she’d ever acted anything but lovey-dovey with me.
Of course I’d clear the roster for Dee’s band. It was more than guilt and, even though I could see the potential they held, there was something else too. It was as though I’d broken an agreement with Jake and now I could make up for it. I guess that was partly guilt but it was also an unspoken thing between us. He was gone and I was left to look out for his sister.
Anyway, I could afford to be generous with them.
If she’d let me, I ‘d do even more to help, but Dee didn’t want my money, that much was clear. I pulled my jacket tighter around me. She didn’t want my help and she didn’t want me.
It was a hard fact to face but, when you boiled it all down, the only thing I had to offer her was money. I could think of nothing else I had in me that would help her.
When I got to the studio, there was a light on. One of the guys must’ve forgotten to turn it off. I’d hired the place out permanently so, other than us, it was just Dee’s band that rehearsed there. I’d given Pete a key so they could come and go as they pleased.
When I got through the door though, I heard someone playing guitar. Playing a few notes, then stopping and replaying. The studio had two rehearsal rooms, with a bathroom between them. A long, thin room with a table and chairs and a sink ran the length of the space. There was a kettle and some coffee mugs, which I never used. The two rehearsal rooms weren’t as soundproof as they could be and it’d be hell with two bands rehearsing at the same time. There were much more luxurious places around but this studio was close to my apartment and the club. The convenience made up for the lack of facilities.
I looked into the first rehearsal room and saw Dee sitting on the floor with her guitar. She didn’t look up; she hadn’t heard me come in.
I got my notebook from the other room without turning the light on. I didn’t want to disturb her.
As she played, she made grunts of frustration. She’d go over and over the same bit, making changes each time. I didn’t leave. I wasn’t sure what to do, though. I turned on the light so she’d know someone else was in the place, then put the kettle on.
If she was getting stuck on something, a cup of tea might help, and it was one little thing I could do for her that didn’t cost money. I searched through the cupboard for the two best-looking cups and found a couple that were uncracked. There were some tea bags and sugar in a container. The tea bags looked like they’d been there for a long time, the print on the tags was even faded, but tea bags don’t go off, do they? The sugar was clumped, so I smashed it with the handle of the plastic spoon I’d found.
I tried to make a bit of noise while I worked so I didn’t scare the shit out of her.
As I poured the boiling water into the cups, I wondered if I’d end up with it thrown in my face. If I added some cold water to cool it down, I might be safer than having it boiling hot.
I knocked on the rehearsal room door.
“What the fuck?” Dee dropped her guitar and glared at me like she wanted to kill me.
“Didn’t you hear me?”
She shook her head.
“I made you a cup of tea.” I grabbed the cups off the table and took one over to her, then hovered around, unsure of whether I should leave her alone. She ran her fingers through her hair, trying not to look at me.
“Sit down,” she said, moving some of the papers.
The carpet looked filthy but I figured I’d risk it, since she was making a tiny step toward me.
“What are you doing?”
She sighed and rolled her eyes. I didn’t think she’d tell me much more but, after a while of staring at a blank sheet of paper, she turned to me.
“How do you start?” she asked.
“Start?”
“Writing a song. It’s all perfect up here.” She tapped her head. “But something stops it from coming out.”
I looked at the papers around her. Most of them had been scrunched up, then flattened out again.
“You’ve written songs before though?”
As she shook her head, the braid of her hair thumped against her shoulders. She looked weary but she bit on her little finger in that way she had.
“Not really. Not from scratch. I took Jake’s songs, or his parts of songs anyway, and went from there. It’s the getting started that is thwarting me.”
“You’re trying too hard. You have this image in your head of the perfect song and everything you do is going to fall short. The gap between what you want to do and what you can do is where you’re being defeated.”