The Woman in the Doorway

The Woman in the Doorway

Ray got to the Denny’s twenty minutes early because he knew it wasn’t going to be an easy conversation with Edgar. He wanted a few minutes to run the conversation he wanted to have through his head and get a good amount of caffeine flowing through his system before Edgar arrived. It had been a late night as their band headlined a small club the night before. The crowd was pretty modest, maybe seventy-five people in a room that can hold two hundred-fifty, but they had been enthusiastic and Ray was also mulling over what it meant that the band, an all-male Go-Go’s cover band, was having more success than their band that played their own material. Except for the drummer, the same people were in both bands.

           Ray knew this Denny’s well. It was walking distance from his apartment, it was cheap, and he got along well with the servers. He caught Deana’s eye and she motioned that she’d be over to his table in just a moment. Ray had just turned thirty-five the week before and he guessed Deana was a few years older than he was. They joked that they both had gotten just old enough to wonder what the fuck they were doing with their lives.

           “Mornin’ Ray,” she said breezily. “Coffee and what else?”

           “A good morning to you Deana. Just the coffee right now. Edgar’s going to be here soon and I’ll order food when he gets here.”

           “Sounds good, the coffee’s coming right up. Oh, how did the show go last night? It was one of the Go-Go’s shows, right?”

           “It was and it was good. Not a big crowd, but we played well. I’m a little worried about Edgar though. I think he’s off his meds and there were a few weird moments last night, one in particular, that I need to talk to him about.”

“That sucks, but I’m glad that it mostly went all right. I am going to get to another one of them soon. You guys really rock those songs.”

“Thanks, and it would be fun to see you at one of those again. The other band too.”

“You guys need to do a double-bill. That would cut my babysitter bill in half.”

Ray smiled and rolled his eyes a little.

“I’ve tried that so many times. Everyone only wants one or the other, never both.”

“Someday. Let me get you that coffee, I’ll be right back.”

While she was gone, Ray thought back to the moment last night when they were playing “Head Over Heels” and Edgar got that look on his face, the one where his eyes bulge a little bit and he gets a faraway look in his eyes and his mouth hangs open for a minute or so. That Edgar plays well when that is happening still amazes and confuses Ray, even after ten years of playing with him. That it happened during “Head Over Heels” was not lost on Ray either. It was the first Go-Go’s song they ever played, and it had started almost as a joke, even though Ray loved the Go-Go’s. Ray had been listening to the Talk Show album a couple of days before and during a frustrating rehearsal, he started playing the song and soon Edgar joined in and then a minute later the full band was playing it and by the end of the day it was added to their set list. Within a couple of weeks they added a couple more Go-Go’s songs and with a couple of months they had spun it off into a separate project, but losing their drummer Harrison from that group along the way. Whenever anyone asked him why the Go-Go’s, Ray’s honest answer was simply that the songs were fun to play and it felt stress-free. At this point, they were still settling on the name of the band, currently billing themselves as Gone-Gone, a name none of them were particularly thrilled with.

Deana came back with the coffee and knowing Ray took it black, didn’t bother bringing cream and sugar with her.

“Here you go,” she said, as she spilled just a little that sloshed over the lip of the cup on to her hand as she put it down. She shook her hand and wiped it off on her skirt.

“Thanks,” Ray said, “How is it today?”

“How is it any day?” she whispered with a smile. “You’re at a Denny’s. You get what you pay for.”

Ray took a big sip.

“Oh yeah,” he said, “The best bad coffee in town. You’ve done it again.”

Ray took another big sip.

“Aw, that means so much,” she said with faux-seriousness as she topped him off before going to tend to her other tables.

Ray got out his journal and made a few notes, but mostly sat waiting for Edgar to get there and Ray only noticed him when got to the table and plopped himself down across from Ray looking tired and disheveled, his now graying puffy hair drooping down into his eyes.

“My God, what happened to you?” Ray said.

“Marlene Parker happened to me. Again,” Edgar replied in a worn voice.

“You’re sleeping with her again? Or at least last night?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure we did, but I gotta tell you, I got really wasted last night. Jesus, I’m forty-two years old, when am I going to stop doing that? At least drinking as much as I did.”

Ray and Edgar met about ten years before while working at a games and comics store in Westwood and within a few months were forming The Widowers, the first of now four bands they’d started together.

“I’m probably not feeling a whole better than you,” Ray replied. “Let’s order some food.”

Ray knew the menu well enough to not need it and quickly gave Edgar a rundown of the highlights. When Deana came by she took their order and dropped off coffee and water for Edgar.

“Ray, is she the one you got together with?”

Ray shook his head.

“No, that was the bartender at The Alley.”

“Nothing with her, are you sure? I forget.”

“If you must know, we’ve smooched a little a couple of times, but that’s it, and I think we both know that’s all it’s going to be.”

“Smooched? Who uses that word?” Edgar asked.

“Probably mostly old people, but it was the right one for this situation.”

Seeing a menu left in the booth across from their table, Edgar leaned over and grabbed it.

“You might have left out a couple of things,“ Edgar said while reading through it. “I’ll just need a minute.”

Ray felt a little relieved, as he still wasn’t sure how to bring up his concern about what happened the night before. Edgar had a tendency to see things that weren’t there and misidentify people when he’s off his meds. The silence while Edgar looked over the menu made Ray a little anxious so he decided to jump right in; this was Edgar, not someone he barely knew.

“So last night during ‘Head Over Heals’”, do you remember saying that you saw Belinda Carlisle standing in the front doorway?”

“Oh my God, yes, I do. Yes, she was there. How cool is that?”

“It would be totally cool, if it was her, but that wasn’t her. When I saw you staring over there, you had that look you get sometimes, so I came over to where you were to get the same vantage point, and it wasn’t her. Most of the time it’s fine, but things like that get me worried when you’re off your meds. Thinking you saw Belinda there isn’t a bad thing, but it wasn’t her and it makes me think something worse could happen.”

“It was her, I know it. I think she just stopped for that one song, but damn Ray, a Go-Go saw us, and not just any one of them. It was Belinda, and we nailed that song.”

           “Edgar.”

“Then who was it?

Ray paused for a moment for effect. He thought that might help him seem more thoughtful somehow.

“It was Marci, the one who works the door there once the show starts. She goes in and out, and during that song she was in. I could see it was her.”

Edgar shook his head and picked up the menu again.

           “We’ll resume this conversation in a minute, I need to decide here, I’m starving, and I see your smoochee heading our way.”

Ray turned and saw Deana heading back toward them. Seeing she had the coffee pot, he took another gulp of his coffee. He saw she also had her phone out. Without checking, she re-filled both of their coffees.

“So, when I was cleaning up right there a minute ago I took the liberty of eavesdropping on your conversation.”

“Damn, we were that loud?” Ray asked with a smile.

“You weren’t exactly whispering. Anyway, I found Belinda Carlisle’s Instagram page and check this out.”

Deana held the phone out for both of them to see and it was ‘Head Over Heels’ from their show the night before, shot from the club’s entryway. Ray couldn’t believe it. There was Edgar staring out at her like a zombie who’s found it’s next brain while he kept looking back and forth between Edgar and the doorway.  

“Now, she is still a bit of a celebrity so maybe she doesn’t do her own social media, but maybe she does. I scrolled through some of her posts, and it looks like she does it herself. I’ll give you two a moment to mull that over and I’ll come back and take your order. Please, keep talking. This could be the highlight of my work day.”

She smiled before turning away to go drop off the coffee pot. Edgar reached into his front pants pocket to grab his phone.

“Oh my God, Ray, that is so cool. I’ve got to check this out.”

“What? There’s no way. I know what I saw, that was Marci.”

“Dude, unless Marci videos bands for Belinda Carlisle, I think you’re wrong on this one. And I’m so relieved I’m not the one seeing things this time.”

Ray sat back wondering how he could have possibly been so wrong about that, but he still wasn’t completely convinced that he was wrong.  For the moment though, he tried to take it in stride.

“Yeah, what a relief,” he said.