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Stuck by a Drummer- The Adventure Continues
I gave Steve the bad news when he phoned me at the hospital the next day to see how my recovery was coming along. I could barely keep my voice from breaking as I told him about Paul's insufferable spite move. Steve's tone went from cheery to sombre once I finished talking, but he didn't explode like I anticipated.
"It's all fucking bullshit but I'm just as pissed off with Lee as I am this Paul cunt," he said. "Lee should have been aware that this paperwork was fucked up long before this. Oh well, this one is for the lawyers. What can we do?"
"I can't believe he did this," I insisted.
"I do," Steve sighed. "But listen, babe, just because we can't work in America for the next little bit doesn't mean that we can't hop over for short spells to play. And you can always come to England."
"I wish. But my insurance only partly covers this hospital stay. I'll be paying it off for awhile, and will be barely able to afford to cross the street, let alone the ocean."
He laughed. "Maybe Santa will send you an early plane ticket."
"If I believed in Santa I'd get excited."
"Then believe in me."
"I do," I whispered. "In a lot of ways I barely know you but I do."
We were quiet for awhile. Then Steve said, "So, any news on...your other condition?"
"No, it's still too early. 7-10 days at the earliest before they can even make an educated guess."
"Shit."
"I hate waiting games too," I told him. "But until we know for sure, now's as good a time as any to discuss what to do in case the tests come back positive."
"Yes, maybe we should." He paused. "KC, I've wanted a kid for a long time. I love making music but I'm at a point in my life where I need more, something that doesn't disappear off the charts or turn on you because you don't release a new record every other week. I understand that it's your body and your choice as to whether any pregnancy is allowed to go to full term...."
"But you want a child if there is one."
"Yes. I do. I'd even take full custody if you didn't feel like you were ready to be a parent."
He sounded sincere enough. But there was one thing to consider here. "What if I am ready to be a parent?"
"I'm willing to share," he said with a hint of a smile in his voice. I smiled too. Bless him- most other men not bound to a woman by a marriage vow would have disappeared long before this.
Despite the static on the line, I heard his pager loud and clear as it beeped in the background.
"Brenda again?" I asked, only half-joking.
"You win the prize for accuracy. Damn, what is it now?"
"Just tell her to fuck off if she's bothering you," I offered.
"Not a good idea, Babe. She's landed at least two telly interviews for Pete over the next two weeks, and a friend of hers in MTV London is considering us for a huge Eighties special that commences filming this summer. She's been really good for us...just not me personally. I think she's into me. Too many phone calls, faxes, and messages that don't mean much and which I don't have time for."
"Do what you think is best."
"Leave it to me." The pager sounded again as if giving him an electronic scolding. "Shit. Well, look, KC, I will sign off now and ring you again tomorrow."
"I'd like that. Take care."
"You too. Bye."
"Bye, babe."
After hanging up, I tried to rest. My mind was easier now- Paul's underhanded move had inconvenienced, but not cut off, my connection with Steve, and to my immense relief that seemed to be all that mattered to Steve too. The prospect of lost US-based revenue was of lesser concern to him than I'd anticipated: maybe he was not all business after all, I thought with a smile.
As I was drifting off to sleep, the phone rang again. I groped for it and finally succeeded after three tries.
"Hello?"
"KC. I presume you're doing well, since you sister tells me you're going home on Sunday."
Paul. My fingers gripped the receiver until my knuckles whitened, and it was only concern over my livelihood that kept me from slamming it full force onto the cradle. Much as I loathed the prospect of working for my megalomaniac ex, the unemployment line was an even more deadful option. Like a lot of recent university graduates, I had little money and lots of debt.
"Yes," I said, "I am. And I will be in the office on Monday as usual."
"That's why I'm calling you. Your office has been moved because your position has changed."
"What are you talking about?"
"You're going to be reviewing Cds instead of live shows. I feel this is the best option since you didn't exactly demonstrate reporter's impartiality when it came to Mr. Steve Coy. I can't afford to have the magazine compromised, so until further notice you will confine your journalistic talents to recorded material only."
I remained with the phone in my grasp, staring off into space, long after he hung up.
More soon, folks!!
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