Old Brown Eyes

How Are Ya Fixed for Love?

I felt as giddy as a little girl at Christmas two days later when I reached into the mailbox and withdrew the red, white and blue priority package. I stood there staring at it for a moment in amazement. I could tell it contains something more than just a compact disc...

I rushed inside, giving an absurd, happy twirl as I sat down at the kitchen table, my mom looking on curiously while my five-year-old daughter, Emma, sat on the floor blissfully watching Blue's Clues.

"Is that the package from Mr Abrams?" Mama asked, drying her hands on a dish towel.

"Uh-huh," I answered distractedly as I carefully slit open the package with a pair of scissors.

Mama put her hands on her hips and watched me curiously, a small smile playing about her lips. "Looks like more than just a CD," she observed.

I couldn't help smirking and blushing at her words. All my life mama had always noted when guys were flirting with me or interested in me while I remained blissfully ignorant. I could see where this was going already. I didn't say anything but reached into the open envelope to see what Rich had sent me.

First, I pulled out a remastered copy of Come Dance With Me and Mama and I both began squealing like little girls at the site of Sinatra's cheeky face on the cover and that provocative come hither finger. I flipped it over and began reading the track list. I could not wait to listen to it! I laid the disc on the table and reached back into the package which clearly contains several more items.

I sat back, open mouthed. Inside a plain white envelope neatly lettered, Sinatra's Concert for the Americas, Brazil, 1979 was a DVD. I knew what this was and I knew I was one of the only few who was now going to be able to see it. I showed it to my mom but I could tell she did not understand the historic or musical significance of it.

"Oh, a Sinatra concert," she mused. "That'll be fun to watch."

You have no idea, Mama, I thought to myself. I reached back into the envelope, pulling out a couple of commemorative buttons from the time Frank was a guest at the Augusta open. I smiled and chuckled. I suppose since the Masters was held in Augusta Georgia, Rich must have thought I would have gotten a kick out of these. I knew he sold them on his website and I also knew they went for about $15 a piece.

Finally, I reached him for the last item which looked like a sheet of music inside a reinforced plastic sleeve for protection. At first I wasn't sure what I was looking at and then when I realized what it was, I stood up quickly, my hand going to my mouth.

It was an original sheet music from the movie studio of the music for You, My Love and it was autographed by Jimmy Van Heusen, the composer.

Holy shit....

Such sentimental drivel, he had said. I stood there mute, shaking my head in disbelief. This guy didn't even know me. We had had one phone conversation and he was only meant to send me the CD I had ordered. What on earth and why on earth had he gone to these lengths?

My heart was pounding as my eyes traveled over the sheet music, mouthing the lyrics to myself and silently singing them in my head. I held the sheet music to my heart and gave my mom a happy smile.

"Mama, you're just not going to believe this..." But first, I had a phone call I had to make.

***
"Why did you do that?" Those were the first words out of my mouth as soon as Rich answered the phone.

"Do what?" he asked guilelessly.

"You know what," I said softly, trying to keep my voice slow. "You didn't have to do that, you know. That was awfully generous of you."

"Eh, it was nothing," he replied. "When you told me how much you liked that corny song, I remembered I had that tucked away somewhere. I thought you might like to have it."

"It's amazing," I said quietly, "and it must be worth something. I would love to keep it but you have to let me pay you for it. Please."

"Absolutely not," Rich said firmly. "It's a gift. From me to you. From blue-eyes.com to you," he amended shyly.

My smile widened. Shyness was not something I was expecting from Rich Abrams. "But Rich, it's too much. And the concert!"

"Ah, the concert," he said, immediately warming to his subject. "You're in for a real treat with that one. Sinatra was in fine voice. Vinnie Falcone was his pianist and composer of all the arrangements. They were a fantastic duo. Vinnie's writing a memoir about his years with Sinatra."

"Really?" I asked, my eyebrows going up. "That should be interesting. And I suppose you're going to carry it when it comes out?"

He laughed, a rich pleasant sound. "Well what do you think?" he asked teasingly. "Of course I'm going to carry it. I'll send you a copy."

I opened my mouth to protest, then closed it again deciding against saying anything. He hadn't said he was going to send it as a gift, had he? His next words once again struck me dumb.

"I'll even get Vinnie to sign it for you if you like."

"What?" I asked, certain I hadn't heard him right.

"Vinnie Falcone, Frank's arranger... I'll get him to sign it for you."

"Wait, so you know Vinnie Falcone too?"

"I know all the people worth knowing who associated with Sinatra," he said brimming with confidence.

"Oh, is that so, Mr Abrams?" I asked, turning the southern accent up a notch just for his pleasure.

"That's so, Miss Hadley," he replied in an absurd sounding fake southern accent.

I laughed out loud. "You sound like Foghorn Leghorn!" I said, trying to catch my breath.

He kept it up. "I say, I say, Miz Hadley...."

I was laughing so hard tears were filling my eyes. "Oh my God! We do not sound like that here in the South!"

"Oh, yes you do," he replied in a teasing, sing song voice.

I could tell he really enjoyed talking to me and it was flattering that this urbane guy who knew so much about the music and entertainment industry was interested in...well, to use a stereotypical Southern phrase...little old me.

His next question, however, took me by surprise. "So, how are you fixed for love?"

"Oh, that's a great song. I love the duet with Frank and Keely."

"Yeah," he agreed. "It's great, but I wasn't referring to the song. I was asking you. Are you...married? Seeing anyone?"

To say the question took me by surprise would be an understatement. I was glad he couldn't see my face. "I'm divorced."

"The guy's an idiot," Rich declared.

I laughed. "Well, I'm not going to argue with you on that point, but how do you know? I could be an absolute horror to get along with."

"Nah," Rich said. "I imagine you'd be easy to love, Hadley."

This time I really was speechless. I sat there, on my mouth hanging open, while several seconds of silence passed between us. I could tell he was trying to think of something to say, something that would soften the awkwardness that had suddenly sprung up between us, two total strangers who had been treading a fine line between flirtation this entire conversation. But now, with his comment floating between us, it would seem that fine line had been somewhat crossed.

I swallowed hard. "Well, it's a shame that we'll never know."

"Never say never, Hadley."

***
How are ya fixed for moonlight? How are ya fixed for stars?
How are ya fixed for kissing while we listen to soft guitars?
How are ya fixed for someone to watch the rain with?
To stroll down the lane with
For someone to just go a little insane with? 

How are ya fixed for memories, memories that shine so bright?
If we let fancy take us, we could make us a few tonight.
How are you fixed for someone who will fit your arm like a glove?
Hey, tell me baby how are ya fixed for love?