Little Bit Better Than I Used To Be
Catch up: Chapter 1 (Starry Eyes) || Chapter 2 (Save Our Souls) || Chapter 3 (Dancing On Glass)|| Chapter 4 (Merry-Go-Round)|| Backstage (1) || Backstage (2) || Chapter 5 (Danger)|| Backstage (3) || Chapter 6A (Love Walked In) || Chapter 6B (Without You) || Backstage (4) || Chapter 7 (Stick To Your Guns) || Chapter 8 (Time For Change) || Backstage (5) || Chapter 9 (Take Me To The Top) || Backstage (6) || Chapter 10 (Home Sweet Home) || Backstage (7) || Chapter 11a (Nightrain) || Chapter 11b (Nothing Else Matters) || Chapter 12a (Handle With Care) || Chapter 12b (I’m So Tired of Being Lonely) || Chapter 13a (Angel) || Chapter 13b (She’s My Addiction) || Chapter 13c (Patience) || Chapter 14a (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14b (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14c (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 15a (Dreams) || Chapter 15b (I Sing A Song of Love) || Chapter 15c (You Can Do This If You Try) || Chapter 16 (Let That Feeling Grab You Deep Inside || Chapter 17A: Never Tear Us Apart || Chapter 17B: It’s Tough To Be Somebody, And It’s Hard Not To Fall Apart || Chapter 17C: I’m Wishing, Lord, That I Was Stoned || Chapter 18: Turn The Page || Chapter 19A: When You’re Alone, Do You Let Go? || Chapter 19B: Heading For A Spin || Chapter 20A: I Don’t Need Nothing When I’m By Your Side || Chapter 20B: I’m Walkin’ Down This Rocky Road || Chapter 20C: You're The Only One Who Gets Through To Me ||| Also posted at AO3
Chapter 20D: Together We Can Make It A Dream
What you need is what I want So don't be afraid, let it show Don't be afraid, just let it explode We have got the power to build the highest tower Standing with our feet on the ground We've got what it takes, together we can make it Together we can blow the house down…
-- “Blow The House Down,” Living In A Box (1989) [click here to listen]
North Carolina || February 1989
Dinner was delicious. They all consciously kept the conversation light and fun.
Claire was particularly interested to hear Raymond’s impressions from walking around the property – about twenty acres in all, including woods and a pond. Jamie eagerly discussed the barn, now home to their vehicles (Jamie’s black 1965 Corvette, Jamie’s cherry red Dodge Charger, Jamie’s Harley-Davidson, and Claire’s powder blue Datsun that proved to be the perfect, practical go-to-town car) for the winter.
“I’m thinking of making it a proper home studio,” he said, scraping the remnants of chili from his bowl. “With a sound board and everything. Will give us more space in the house.”
“And it won’t be so loud,” Claire smiled, sipping her ice water, left hand entwined with Jamie’s under the table.
“It’s beneficial to have a little separation,” Raymond reflected. “When I started my private practice, I was given very good advice to rent an office space. There was a higher up-front cost, but patients certainly didn’t want to see me in my living room.”
“Speaking of which…”
Raymond immediately turned to face Claire. Encouraging.
Claire smiled softly, before continuing. “I want to get back to medicine – after we get back from Europe.” She paused. “My license transfer finally came through from Massachusetts a few weeks ago. I don’t want to open a private practice – it wouldn’t be fair to patients, if I’ll be on the road with Jamie, or here at home with children. But there’s a clinic in town where I can start picking up hours. I’ve already talked with them about it.”
“That would be wonderful, Claire.” Raymond’s smile was genuine. “And good to have that day-to-day interaction with patients again. You must not have had that too frequently in your last job.”
She shook her head. “By the end, my only direct interaction with patients was to consult their surgeries, before I would cut into them. I was very far removed from the daily grind. So incredibly different than at the very beginning right out of medical school.” She darted a smile at Jamie. “Though all those hours in the ER did come in handy on tour. I stitched and bandaged up quite a few wounds, splinted a few broken fingers. Jamie doesn’t understand when I say it, but I truly enjoyed doing that.”
“I just don’t get why she’d ever get excited at the sight of blood,” he smiled. “But it makes her happy.” He paused, and turned to look at her straight on. “It would make me happy, Claire, for you to spend more time at the clinic. Even now, in time we have left before it all gets crazy again. I…” He swallowed. “I want you to make something of your own, here in North Carolina. To get back to your roots.”
She beamed at him. He darted in for a quick kiss, feeling no hesitation in front of Raymond.
“Remind me when you’ll be in Los Angeles?”
“Two and a half weeks until we leave.” Jamie helped himself to another ladle of chili. “I’ve got three weeks of rehearsals – the band hasn’t played together since October. While we’re there, we’ll be meeting with the label, and maybe book a day or two in the studio. Probably a show or two, something small.”
“And then a week home here in April,” Claire added, “before flying to England to kick off the tour.”
“120 dates and counting.” Jamie sighed. “We’re booked two, three dates in most cities, though fortunately we’ve got at least a day in between cities to travel. We’re headlining all kinds of festivals. And then in August we have two weeks off – ”
“Three,” Claire chimed in.
“…and Claire and I are torn between coming back home, or going for a European vacation somewhere.”
“We don’t need to decide now,” she said softly. “Plus, if I’m pregnant by then…”
Jamie kissed her temple.
“I’ve been thinking about how we’ll work together on this tour.” Raymond pushed aside his empty bowl and pulled a small spiral notepad from the inside pocket of his blazer. He pushed back the cover, made a quick note with the pen tucked behind his ear, and looked across the table at Jamie and Claire.
“We’re open to whatever you suggest,” Claire said softly. “I hope you know that about us by now.”
“I do. I’ve been going back and forth between whether to do something in a structured way, especially given the logistical challenges and the travel. But I think that in order for both of you to get the support you need from me, we’ll need to aim for as much structure as possible.”
“I agree,” Jamie nodded, wrapping an arm around Claire’s shoulders. “Consistency will be key. Claire and I – this last tour, we tried to stick to the same schedule every day.”
“For show days, anyway,” she added.
Raymond flipped to a new page, pen poised. “And I assume that would be roughly the same, this tour?”
Claire nodded. “Wake up call at 830 or 9 AM. Wake up, love each other, order breakfast to the room, shower. Limo to the venue at 1130. Get to the venue, have lunch, band does soundcheck. That’s done by 2 PM. Then free time at the venue. Sometimes Colum meets with the band. Sometimes the band hangs out together, plays music – that’s where a lot of new songs come from. Sometimes I’ll spend time with Angus’ girlfriends, or reading in Jamie’s dressing room, or just being alone with Jamie and enjoying the quiet. All of us use that time to catch up on phone calls. I try to call Uncle Lamb and my friends Joe and Gail Abernathy a few times a week.”
“And to think that a year ago, she’d never been on the road like this,” Jamie smiled.
Claire blushed prettily. “Dinner usually at 6 or 630. Then the band gets dressed, sometimes does fan meet-and-greets or press interviews. The opening act starts at 8. About 45 minutes of the opener, and then it’s showtime.”
Jamie pushed back his empty bowl. “And after the gig, we do a quick band huddle to talk about the show. Sometimes with Colum and also our road manager. Claire and I are usually in the limo back to the hotel by midnight, if we’re not traveling. If we are, then sometimes we fly after the gig and sometimes it’s first thing in the morning.”
Raymond scribbled on the pad. “It’s good to have so much structure. Did you feel the same way?”
Jamie nodded. “Definitely. Claire?”
“Yes,” she agreed. “Especially when we’re in a new place every few days.”
“And when during the day would you have the panic attacks, Jamie?”
Jamie frowned. “After dinner. Sometimes during the free time in the afternoon.”
“One time in the hotel room, after we got back from the show,” Claire added gently. “And a few times in the morning, when we were waiting for the limo. Once, in the limo.”
“Do you see that with your other patients, Raymond?”
Raymond looked up from his notebook. “That panic attacks come at any time, without a particular pattern? Yes. Though especially with the combat vets, something in their environment acts as a trigger. Do you ever feel anxious to perform, Jamie?”
Jamie shook his head. “I fucking love it, Raymond. To play my music, with my band…to hear thousands of people singing the words I wrote, and so into the music and the whole experience we give them…there’s really nothing else like it. It’s a high, for sure. Better than any drug.”
Jamie squeezed Claire’s hand. “And the only feeling that’s better than when I’m on stage, is when I’m loving Claire.”
Raymond set down his pen, and flipped back a few pages in his notebook. “So it’s not triggered by the performance itself. And I assume you don’t get anxious or claustrophobic on buses or airplanes?”
“Nope. I’ve never had a problem with that.”
“And were your days so consistent before? When you were using?”
“Yes and no. The broad strokes of it, yes – though add ‘whiskey’ and ‘coke’ and ‘girls’ to any of the time I had to myself.” He paused, thinking. “After the show most nights, I wouldn’t go back to the hotel right away. I’d celebrate with the roadies and some girls, usually hit up a strip club, not make it back to my hotel until dawn. Obviously I don’t do that anymore.”
“You’re just an old man who likes being tucked up in bed with his lawfully wedded wife,” Claire teased.
“You know it,” Jamie smiled.
Raymond scribbled on a fresh sheet in his notebook. Absently running his hand through his hair. Clearly thinking.
“All right,” he said, after a while. “Before I walk you through my plan – I need to ask you something. Both of you.”
To be continued…
Reblogging for the afternoon crowd!
