The Replacement Bridesmaid Read online

  “So, here it is, Jill,” Kevin took her though a door right next to the large glass window. “This is the control room, which, of course, we use when we record our albums. We have studio technicians when we’re recording, but since we aren’t now, they’re off doing other people’s albums.”

  Jill nodded, trying not to look bowled over. This was a bit overwhelming. Her throat felt dry and she swallowed.

  “And this,” he said, opening the live room door, “is where it all happens.”

  The live room was even larger than it had looked through the window. Kevin’s drum set sat in the center, but towards the back padded wall. Three guitars were propped up on stands, like little soldiers waiting for their orders. A shiny black baby grand piano was pushed over in the corner, while Tim’s electric keyboard sat nearer to the other instruments. Next to the keyboard, Jill saw an electric violin. She turned to Kevin.

  “Does someone play the violin, too?”

  “Sure, Collie does.

  Jill nodded. Such a talented bunch of people. Did she really belong here? Her stomach gurgled and a sour feeling came over her. The feeling she had made a mistake had once again entered her thoughts, but she didn’t have time to dwell, because the rest of the band arrived at that moment, distracting her from her fears.

  “Jill!” Collie hugged her, giving her a little peck on the cheek.

  Dooley held out his fist to Jill and she, not knowing what to do, made her own hand into a fist and bopped his on top. Seemed to her a lot like the game “hot potato” that the kids used to play. Dooley laughed and took her hand with his other hand.

  “Like this,” he said, showing her how to bump fists, knuckles to knuckles. He nodded his head and said “Cool,” then wandered over to pick up one of his three guitars.

  “Here’s the songs we do on tour,” Tim, who had came in after Dooley, handed Jill a bound set of papers. “We’ve updated them to reflect your part in them. I think it’ll make sense when you look at them.”

  Jill opened it to the first song. It was one that Roque Irish had played that night Coyle had taken her to see them at the Wheel. She looked up.

  “This has me singing the lead,” she said, looking at each of them, bewildered.

  “Sure, we might as well make you pull your socks up right away, right?” Kevin said, as he went into the control room to power up the room.

  Jill looked at Coyle, who was leaning against one of the walls, smirking.

  “Pulling up my socks?”

  “Get busy, get to work,” Coyle said, pushing off the wall and walking to where Jill stood. He put his hands on her shoulders. “I’m going to leave you at it.” He gave her a quick hug and disappeared out the door.

  Kevin returned from the control room. “Well, are we ready, then?” He gazed expectantly at Jill.

  She looked down at the bound notebook in her hand. Her heart beat furiously and for a slight moment her head spun around, her eyes out of focus. It was almost too much, all this. Then she sucked up a breath and looked up at Kevin.

  “Let’s do it.”

  Chapter 22

  Jill’s days began to take on a routine. After quitting the pub, she had a more flexible, but busy schedule. She spent most nights at Coyle’s house now. In the morning, they would hop on their bikes and ride for an hour or so, then after lunch, Jill would clean up and meet the band for rehearsal while Coyle sat at his laptop and worked on his book for a few hours. In the evenings they either went over to Bridy’s for big family dinners or went to one of the local pubs to watch other bands. Rogue Irish wasn’t playing any shows while they prepared for the tour, so they had their evenings off.

  Each day the band would gather in the studio at nine in the morning. Kevin would already be there when Jill arrived. He said he found the quiet of the morning the best time to write new music. Dooley was usually there early, too, lounging on the sofa in the corner with his Nintendo DS game in his hands, his thumbs flying and his mouth screwing this way and that. Tim showed up about the same time as Jill and Collie rolled in last. The place was pretty quiet until she appeared. Clearly Collie was the heart of this band. And she, Jill, was supposed to be the replacement. A heart replacement. Great.

  The first week of rehearsal, the band worked on two or three songs each day. Normally, they would do more, but they kindly slowed the pace for Jill, so she could learn all the words and music. It was exhausting work, singing the same song over and over, but at the same time, Jill drew energy from the other band members. They were all so dedicated, such great musicians. Dooley might appear to be an out-of-work pizza delivery guy, but put a guitar in his hands and he became Michelangelo. His playing was a work of art. Tim could play not only all Rogue Irish’s song, he tinkled out sultry jazz pieces after rehearsal each day, just because he liked to.

  Collie, who had a voice like a cannon, belted out every song during rehearsal, not worrying about saving anything for the stage. She said she did save her voice during rehearsals on the road, but she liked to give her all when they were home. And after they practiced, Kevin would sit back down at his electric keyboard and laptop and resume working on new songs.

  On the fifth day of rehearsal, after they had run through the first five songs from beginning to end, Kevin said, “Alright, mates, let’s call it a day. We’ll pick it up on Monday.”

  “Monday?” Jill asked. The schedule said they were to rehearse on Saturday, the next day.

  “Tim’s son has a gig at a school dance and we volunteered to be chaperones so we can see him play,” Kevin said, wiping the sweat from his bearded face with a small towel.

  “Don’t the kids recognize you?” Jill asked.

  “Sure, but Michael’s been going to school with these same kids for years. They’re used to us and are pretty cool about the whole thing,” Tim said.

  “It’s because you’re a couple of seans with walking canes,” Dooley said, not looking up from his game. “Now, if I was going, the birds would be all over me.”

  Collie laughed out loud.

  “You, Dooley? When’s the last time you changed your shirt? It’s manky, boy.” She wrinkled up her nose, while Dooley just turned and grinned at her.

  “Speaking of clothes, Jill, what do you plan on wearing when we go on stage?” Collie turned her attention to Jill, who blinked dumbly at the question.

  “Wear?”

  “You’re always coming in here in jeans and a blouse, pretty simple stuff. Do you have anything else?

  Jill looked down at her fading blue jeans and plain white t-shirt. Looking back up, she said, “No, not really.”

  Collie grabbed her big bag and fished around, pulling out her cell phone. She dialed it and put it to her ear, winking at Jill. Jill looked at Tim, but he just shrugged his shoulders.

  “Oh, milish, how are you? How was Bora Bora? Yes?” Collie paused for a few seconds, wiggling her eyebrows at Jill. “That sounds brilliant. Say, I need to take Jill out for some good gear to wear on stage. Yes... sure... see you then.” She hung up the phone and grinned at Jill. “We’re going shopping to get you some outfits for the shows. That was Teagan, we’re to pick her up on the way.”

  “Now?” Jill asked.

  “Now,” Collie said, as she threw her phone back into her bag and picked Jill’s purse off the couch. “Let’s go, girl”

  It was clear that nothing Jill had fit the bill of “rock band singer.” Collie and Teagan were a good decade younger and pulled shirts and pants off the store racks with abandon. Jill picked a few things to take into the dressing room with the other pile of Collie and Teagan’s picks.

  “Come on, lassie, let’s see you,” Collie called out from the overstuffed couch in the fitting area.

  Jill stepped out in a pair of dark washed jeans and a tight fitting and revealing low cut blouse. Collie nodded, pursing her lips. Teagan jumped up and started pulling the blouse this way and that.

  “That’s passable, Jill. Show us more,” Collie said.

  Next, she ap
peared in a gold mini-skirt and strapless skin-tight top.

  “Teagan, you must have picked this one out,” Collie laughed.

  Teagan screwed up her pretty mouth apologetically. “Sorry, that’s just brutal,” she said, trying not to smile.

  “Yea, I kind of though so,” Jill said as she stepped back into the dressing room.

  She tried on what seemed like hundreds of tops and pants and skirts and was down to the last outfit. The top and pants were the lone items hanging on the wall and Jill just wasn’t sure she wanted to try them on. The outfit seemed to be much to young, much too sexy for her. Poking her hear out the door, she held the pants up to show the other women.

  “I don’t think I’m going to bother with this,” she said, wiggling the hanger around.

  Both Collie and Teagan erupted in protests.

  “Now, come on, give it a try,” Collie said. “You’ll never know until you try it.”

  “That’s true,” said Teagan. “My mother picked this dress for my wedding and I thought it was atrocious. And then I tried it on. It’s the one I wore. It was perfect.”

  Jill looked from Collie to Teagan, laughing at their faces of earnest persuasion.

  “Oh, all right,” she said, pulling the pants back in with her and shutting the dressing room door. “Hang on.”

  A minute later she stepped out, feeling more than just a little self-conscious. Trying to make the best of it, she decided to strike a pose, turning sideways and throwing her head back. Collie and Teagan jumped up and started clapping.

  “What?” Jill asked, as she gave up the pose and turned to them.

  “You’re absolutely stunning,” Collie said.

  “Oh my, Jill, who knew you had such a rocking body!” Teagan exclaimed.

  Collie turned Jill to look in the mirror. There, facing her in mutual surprise was her reflection dressed in shiny black satin pants, tight from her hips on down to her ankles, topped by a luminous silver beaded tank. Collie mussed Jill’s hair and then stood right behind her to look in the mirror.

  “A little more makeup and you are a rock star, woman,” Collie said, beaming at Jill’s reflection.

  “Wow,” said Jill, stunned. She did look awesome.

  A few thousand dollars later, Jill had some more than decent clothes that would work at any concert at any venue. They stopped into a shoe store and Jill let the women talk her into an extremely high pair of heels, but she also picked a pair of black leather boots with a low heel. Cool and hip, while still comfortable.

  Since the makeover appeared to be on, Bridy got involved and hooked Jill up with a hairdresser, who trimmed up Jill’s hair, giving it a few more layers so that she could wear it in different ways. She had to relearn stage makeup, something she had known about back in college, but since she had only worn makeup for special nights in Phoenix and almost not at all in Killarney, she felt like she was a complete novice at it. Makeup was better these days, so she was able to find a routine that didn’t take long and also didn’t make her feel like she was wearing a kabuki mask.

  “The hair is perfect,” Bridy said as Jill stepped into the kitchen and sat at the table. “I told you Mavis is an artist with hair.” She put her hands to the younger women’s hair, pushing it slightly to one side. “It’ll look pretty put up, too.”

  The front door slammed and seconds later, Coyle appeared in the doorway, carrying a big box. He set it on the table in front of Jill.

  “For you, “ he said simply.

  Jill wrinkled her nose up at him and laughed. “Really?”

  “Sure, open it.”

  She slid the lid off the box and pushed the tissue paper aside. See the contents, she looked back up at Coyle and grinned.

  “What is it?” Bridy leaned across the table, trying to get a look.

  “Put it on,” Coyle said, leaning his big frame on the kitchen counter and crossing his arms.

  Jill stood and pulled the contents of the box up out of the tissue. It was a black leather jacket, just the thing for a budding rock star. She slipped her arms into the sleeves and pulled the jacket around her. The leather was soft and supple, luxurious to the touch. She zipped it up and found that it fit perfectly.

  “It’s great! Thank you, Coyle,” Jill said, beaming.

  Coyle grinned back at her and started to say something, when the phone rang. The phone sat next to him on the counter, so he picked it up. His laughing eyes suddenly dimmed, as held the phone down to his chest.

  “I have to take this, I’m sorry.” He disappeared down the hall.

  Jill cocked her head and then looked at Bridy.

  “That was weird,” she said.

  Bridy looked uncomfortable, leaping up from the table. “Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing,” she said as she started fussing with stack of dishtowels she’d left on the counter.

  Jill nodded and said, “Yes, you’re probably right. In any case, I guess I better get out of this stuff. I’m going to go change.”

  “Perfect, dinner will be ready in about half an hour,” Bridy said, but she wouldn’t make eye contact with Jill.

  Jill stood and stared at Bridy’s back for a second, then shrugging, she left the kitchen and started up the stairs. Two steps up, she stopped as she heard Coyle’s voice.

  “I know. I won’t do that to you, you know that.” He paused for a few seconds, then spoke again, his voice kind. “I promised. Yes, of course.”

  Jill’s heart gave a little tug. That was the voice he used with her.

  “Sharon, I need to ring off now,” Jill heard Coyle say.

  “Sharon,” Jill’s mouth formed the name soundlessly. Hearing Coyle moving down the hall, she scampered up the stairs before he saw her.

  She shut the bedroom door quietly and sank down on the bed. Sharon seemed to be edging back into Coyle’s life. He had said that he cared about her, but he’d also said he didn’t know where she was. Why, all of the sudden, was she back in the picture? On the other hand, Coyle had professed his love to Jill, for Jill. She could either believe him or not, regardless of Sharon.

  Taking off the leather jacket Coyle had just given her, she held it in her arms, smelling the musky scent of the leather, rubbing the softness against her cheek. The warmth and comfort of this jacket mimicked the way she felt with Coyle, the way she felt about Coyle. Reluctantly, she hung it in the closet next to the bridesmaid’s dress. Those pieces of clothing were her reasons for coming and for staying.

  As the start of the tour approached, Jill and Coyle spent most of their spare time together, not talking about how she would be going away for a while, not thinking about not seeing each other every day. She had been thinking about it, but didn’t want to bring it up. Living in the day, she thought, was the best way to go at this point. Her life had changed so much in such a short time, all of it good, none of it planned. Why mess with that?

  The band was going to play some dates in Ireland – Limerick, Galway, Cork City, Dublin, Belfast – before leaving the county for England, France, Spain, and Germany appearances. Jill was glad they were starting in Limerick. She knew Killarney quite well, but hadn’t seen much of Ireland except for the quick sightseeing she had done with Tara when they first got to Dublin for Teagan’s wedding. The exception was Limerick. Coyle had needed to go there to do some research for his book, so Jill went along and they’d done some exploring. At least she was a bit familiar with the city.

  The band decided to rehearse until two days before they were to leave, to give themselves a couple of days to prepare for the trip. On the last day of rehearsal, they were all giddy, nervous, laughing and joking with each other.

  “Oh, sure, at least we don’t have to worry about Collie doing a legger again,” Kevin kidded around with his sister. “Now we have Jill, Collie can visit the bog whenever she wants!” They all laughed again. Jill was picking up the Irish slang, knowing that “doing a legger” meant something like “walking off the job” and she remembered from the first night she sang with the band that a
bog was a restroom.

  Jill and Collie perched on stools in the middle of the instruments. They had taken a break and were about to start practicing again, when Jill looked up and saw Coyle standing in the doorway.

  “Hey,” she said, getting up and leaving her microphone on the stool. “What are you doing here?” Her hands on his shoulders, she hugged and kissed. She wrapped an arm around him, turning them to walk towards the band. The rest of the band were staring at her. They were beaming, looking like they knew something she didn’t.

  Jill stopped abruptly, but Coyle kept walking. She noticed he had a sheaf of papers in his hands. He went to each of the band members and gave them a couple of pages of the papers. They started reading, nodding approvingly and looking back up to grin at Jill.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, slowly returning to her stool, looking at them one by one.

  “This is for you,” Coyle said, handing her several sheets of paper. She saw they were lined music sheets, with handwritten notes and words. She looked up at him, her head tilted in confusion.

  “Read it,” Collie said.

  Jill looked back down at the top page. “Room to Breathe.” She smiled up at everyone, then went back to the music sheet.