On the Road with Jersey Line: The confessions of a Wardrobe Assistant

Trouble in Boston Pt. 2

I quietly opened the door to our suite, expecting Ronny to be sound asleep. It was past 1 a.m., but Inventory was done, costumes steamed and assembled on racks for each band member. I had Ronny and Joey's racks ready, and then had to make sure I had Jimmy's as well. It still annoyed me that he had added a Stetson to his wardrobe, very similar to Ronnie's.

As I walked into the room, I saw Ronny sitting on the bed. He looked up at me and gave a wry little smile. "There's my girl!" He said, holding his arms open for me. I sat on the bed next to him, and returned his embrace.

"Is everything ready for tomorrow?" He asked, and I nodded with a big yawn.

"I'm so tired!" I exclaimed while Ronny began nibbling at my neck, pushing my dress further down my shoulders until both breasts were exposed. Soon after he was thrusting deep inside me, whispering my name in my ear. We came together, and I wrapped my legs tightly around him to keep him inside me longer, quivering against his warm skin, hoping that we had made a baby. I wanted his baby so badly. We had been so careful for so long, but now with our engagement, it became something we both desired. Anna loved being an only child, but she had not been opposed to the idea of having a baby brother or sister.

Before falling asleep in each other's arms, Ronny whispered in my ear "batten down the hatches baby, tomorrow starts the tour from hell."

Startled by his words, I raised my head for a minute and looked into his gorgeous brown eyes. He just gave me another quick grin, but it did't reach his eyes. He kissed my forehead. "Go to sleep, and don't worry. It will all be okay." But worry I did, as insomnia kicked in.

I closed my eyes and stayed as still as I could, so I wouldn't disturb Ronny, who was already quietly snoring. I kept trying to shut my brain down, but I wondered if something had happened between him and Jimmy at the Band meeting. Then I saw something lying on the chair, the new tour T-shirt. I quietly slipped out of bed, picked it up, and carried it into the restroom. After they had announced that Jimmy was joining the tour, they had to do a new photo shoot. Although he had stood behind Joey and Ronny in the original shots, someone had used photo shop to transpose the photos, putting Jimmy next to Joey, and Ronny behind them, next to Dick, Tony and Hank. I took a deep cleansing breath, crumpled up the T-shirt and tossed it into the trash can.   

All I could think about was the hurt I saw in Ronnie's eyes earlier.    My job was easier compared to his, and I was glad, because it was going to take all of my strength to hold him up on this tour.    I quietly walked back into the room and slipped back into bed beside my man.   The man who held my heart in his hands, and whom I hoped to share the rest of my life with.   He woke up for a second, and pulled me back into his embrace.  "Don't leave me, Liza," he whispered and kissed my hair.  "I need you so much!"  

I silently cursed Joey.  It seemed as though the battle lines were being drawn in the sand.  It would be Ronny and me against Joey, Jimmy and Dick.   Tony never got involved in band drama and Hank was just there for the paycheck, or so it seemed. He was an accomplished player, but he earned the role by default. He had been behind the scenes in the studio doing sessions for the records, while their original bassist was often a no show. He loved the touring lifestyle, but had burned too many bridges with Joey and had not been invited back. Andy Lewis had always been the life of the party, but it caught up with him, and sadly, he passed away almost a year to the day after Joey fired him. I had only done a couple tours with him, but I knew Ronny really missed him, as they had been roommates on tour, and very good friends.

The next morning, we woke up and I called for room service, while Ronny took a shower. He had a specific ritual on show days, and over the years, I knew the routine very well. A cold shower to wake him up, followed by copious amounts of strong black coffee, tomato juice, two eggs over medium with bacon, wheat toast and grape jelly. I worried about his cholesterol, but he burned so many calories onstage, I just prayed that the cholesterol burned off, too. We sat across from each other and he grinned at me.

"Hello, Rabbit!" He said, making fun of my breakfast choices of oatmeal, fresh fruit, yogurt, cranberry juice and herbal tea.

His smile faded and he said, "I found the T-shirt in the trash. I'm assuming you put it there?"

"I did", I said quietly. "Do you want to talk about it now, or later?" Already knowing the answer.

Rule no. 2, no serious discussions until after the show. He stood up from the table, kissed me on the forehead, grabbed a towel and said "see ya later babe", and headed to the weight room. - Rule no. 3. Toning and conditioning. He kept his arms toned as well as his abs. He was my man, but his female fans earned him his paycheck, but I got the reward.

It was my time to relax, do my morning yoga and meditation to de-stress before getting ready for load in at 1 pm. We still had to re-inventory the racks, and get our areas organized back stage. In addition to Sheila and me, we had two more assistants to help as runners just in case something tore or got left behind. It was so easy for the guys to pop off a button, rip a zipper or snag a fabric. We had to be prepared for anything.

I had just finished my shower and donned my backstage costume, black jeans and T-shirt, black baseball cap and tennis shoes. Not fancy, but we needed to blend into the walls backstage, not seen and not heard. Only stage voices in the wings of the arena.

Soon Ronny returned for Rule 4. Hot shower, and grooming for pre-show equipment check, lighting and sound check at 3 p.m., followed by a VIP meet and greet with the fans who paid obscene amounts of money to watch sound check followed by a backstage tour and photos with the band.

The phone rang to let us know the suburbans had arrived to transport us to the arena. We grabbed hands, kissed for luck, and left the room. Rule 5. Never let them see you sweat . . . Or cry . . . Or scream . . .