Not This Time

Jon: July 14, 1986

     "So hard to find my way," I sang along quietly with Van Morrison's Brown Eyed Girl as Rich Bozzett, our tour manager, led us down the hall to our dressing room. He had warned us about the crew's mixtape filled with songs of the 60s and 70s. Whoever had made it had good taste; I could hear one of the other guys singing along too.
     When we got to the dressing room, Van Morrison's voice could still be heard from the speaker overhead. Presumably, the sound was wired that way so that he headliners would know when the opener was about done without someone having to run for them, but for us, it was pointless. We were the openers.
     "Sometimes I'm overcome just thinking about," Van Morrison sang. I was gonna have to talk to Nina about cutting the sound in here. I didn't want to listen to Judas Priest with ringing ears.
     "With you," I sang along for now, again, to myself, "My brown eyed girl."
     I could hear David doing the same. "You, my brown eyed girl."
     "Do you remember when," I sang, "Uh-we used to sing."
     As everyone burst out into "sha la la la la"s, the tour manager looked up from his papers and rolled his eyes at us. He was clearly amused. He probably knew we'd do something like that. He'd been managing our tours from the beginning; Rich knew us. He knew us well and managed us well on top of it.
     "Here's a day sheet for each of you," Rich called out over our singing, holding up a collection of papers in one hand. I held a thumbs up to him as I sang along with the end of the song. "I'm sure the tech's gonna send someone for you when she's ready for sound check, but if she doesn't, check is gonna be no later than 6pm."
     "We got Nina?" David asked. In the silence between songs, his voice seemed loud. The tour manager nodded and David punched the air excitedly. Rich chuckled at the pianist and shook his head.
     "I'll be around backstage if you need me," he assured us as he turned to leave the room.
     "Thanks, Bozz," I laughed, using Nina's nickname for him from the first tour. He stopped and turned to give me a look. That expression made everyone in the band laugh. Then Rich walked away down the hall.
     I propped my foot up on the counter and reached for my toes. Some small part of me was excited to get back to doing shows, but all I could think about at the moment was my girlfriend.
     The last three weeks since she'd left Vancouver felt like the longest weeks of my life. The whole time we were recording, she was in the back of my mind, and it sucked. It was so annoying trying to concentrate on other things when I was counting the days.
     It didn't help that she'd said what she had right before leaving. I love you too. I knew that she hadn't meant to say it then, but the fact that it came out without her thinking made it that much sweeter, more honest. I dunno. Maybe I was thinking about it too much. I couldn't help it, I missed her.
     I missed the way she felt. I missed that stupid blush that never seemed to have a reason. I never thought I would, but I missed the way she teased me about Dotty. I missed her laughing at me and her stubbornness.
     Not telling.
     Oh right! Nina cut her hair! Oh boy. How different would it be, I wondered, not that it mattered. I was anxious to see it.  It's not like she'd care what I thought anyway, but I was just so familiar with her long hair, I wasn't sure how I'd like something shorter on her. On the other hand, it might be kind of sexy if she looked completely different. I smirked to myself as I stretched, letting my mind wander a minute.
     With each of us going about our own pre-show routines, it was blaringly obvious that there hadn't been a song playing since the end of Brown Eyed Girl. The weight of the silence caught my attention and I looked around. I was just about to question where the music was when a piano sounded from the speaker.
     The intro was unmistakable. "I love this song!" I said to nobody in particular, dropping my foot and taking a short break. The playing was slower than normal and slightly out of time, like the pianist wasn't certain they were playing it right. Nevertheless, it fell together well enough to be recognizable.
     "I heard there was a secret chord," a woman's voice sang slowly. We all stopped and stared at the speaker in surprise as she went on, "that David played and it pleased the Lord. But you don't really care for music, do ya?"
     "Who is that singing?" Richie asked.
     I glanced over at Richie. Who did he think it was? It was the only woman on our tour crew. It was Nina. I didn't say that, of course. Tico did, though.
     "She's playing my keys!" David declared with a giant grin. He bounded toward the door, sliding across the floor in his socks and landing against the wall opposite our dressing room. We all laughed and I jumped up to help him. Before I could, though, the pianist was on his feet and starting off down the hall without me. I started to follow him, but quickly gave up on that idea.
     "Where are you going?" I called as he skated further away from me.
     David shouted back with glee, "I get new keys for this tour!" That was all he said.
     "The baffled kings composing Hallelujah," Nina's voice sang. David disappeared toward backstage as Richie and Alec joined me in the hallway. We made our way toward backstage more casually as Nina's voice serenaded us from overhead. "Hallelujah. Hallelujah," she sang gently, "Hallelujah. Hallelu-u-u-u-ujah."
     As we came around a corner and finally spotted the tunnel door, the music stopped. Nina's voice could faintly be heard calling out something to someone, both through the speaker and the tunnel door, but then there was nothing.
     Not even a minute later another song started. This one sounded only vaguely familiar, like I'd heard it in the supermarket but never really listened to it voluntarily. I wracked my brain, finally coming up with what I thought was the title.
     "Is that.." I began. The words started then, interrupting me, and I had my answer. Yup, just as I'd thought. I Got You, Babe by Sonny and Cher. I made a face up at the speaker and then at nothing in particular as we continued down the hall. What the hell?
     In the tunnel that let into the arena, I could see David up at his keyboards already, checking them out. He looked like a kid in a candy store. I stopped at the tunnel entrance with my arms wrapped around myself, not wanting to intrude on the set up, especially barefoot; Nina would throw a fit. The platforms were set up with both David's keyboards and Tico's drums already on them, but there was still a lot to be done. I scanned the stage for Nina, but I didn't see her.
     I love you too. Her voice in my head again. I couldn't help but smile at the way she'd gotten so flustered. I shut my eyes and took a deep breath. God, I missed her. When I opened my eyes, the hook was just starting.
     "I got you babe," Sonny and Cher sang together. That's when I spotted Nina. She was standing on her tiptoes, securing a couple of cables against the leg of a platform so that nobody tripped on them. I let my eyes drift from those trusty black Converse she almost always wore, up her denim-clad legs, to the Bon Jovi crew shirt she'd gotten from The Bozz.
     Then I realized that her hair stopped just above her shoulders. Holy crap, she chopped everything off! I watched her run a hand through her shorter hair as she examined her work. Her hand fell out of her hair awkwardly and I smirked. She wasn't used to the new length yet either.
     She glanced up and then knelt down to pick up a monitor that would go toward the front of the stage. Before I thought too hard about it, I raced up the steps to help her.
     Nina looked up at me when she saw my hands helping to balance the monitor, even though she was holding it perfectly well on her own. She smiled at first, looking down to hide her blush.
     Oh crap. I'd forgotten that I wasn't wearing shoes. Her smile disappeared and she looked back up at me with a frown.
     "What do you think you're doing?" she scoffed, pulling the monitor away from me to get a better grip on it.
     "I was helping you," I defended.
     "Not without shoes," she retorted bluntly, "It's not your stage until we're through with it, and until that time, closed-toed shoes are required. The last thing you need is a fucked up foot."
     I snickered at her phrasing, but she didn't relent. My smile only faded a little. There was that stubbornness I'd missed. She raised an eyebrow impatiently. With an unamused scoff, I motioned to David up on the platform.
     "What about Lemma?" I protested.
     Nina turned away from me to look at David. "David Bryan Rashbaum, who do you think you are?" she snapped. I tried not to laugh when David looked up at her. His face. He was so clueless as to what he'd done, it was just priceless. Nina stepped over to the keyboard platform and scolded him about his socks, then told him to get off the stage. I chuckled a little, but then she turned back to me. "You too, Rockstar."
     I grinned and swatted the air in her general direction as I turned away to retrieve my shoes. As I was coming offstage, Tico appeared out of the tunnel with my boots and David's sneakers. I laughed as he tossed me my boots. It was hilarious that he'd known. I watched him hand David his sneakers before strutting onstage and climbing up to his drumset.
     "I bet you're happy," Richie's voice commented as I sat down on the steps to pull on my boots. The guitarist stopped in front of me, looking down as I looked up. "That Nina's on tour, again."
     "I asked for her, didn't I?"
     Richie had his arms crossed, watching Nina, much like he had the very first day she'd done sound for us back in '83. I got up from the stairs and put my hands on my hips, following his gaze for a minute and then glancing at him. I couldn't tell what he was thinking. Maybe he was piecing together that it was her in Vancouver. Maybe he thought because I'd asked for Nina that we were together. Maybe he was undressing her in his mind. I couldn't always tell with Richie.
     "Her hair is shorter," he observed.
     "No shit," I said sarcastically, shaking my head. What was I worried about?
     Richie turned toward me a little and tilted his head. "She sounded like that chick," he stated. I crossed my arms too and gave him a look.
     "You're gonna have to be more specific, bro," I scoffed, "There's been an awful lot of chicks."
     Richie grinned, causing me to as well. He knew. I don't know how he'd figured it out so quickly, but he knew. He had to, that's the only reason he'd bring up Misty. That was months ago, how the hell did he remember something so unimportant from that long ago?
     Richie and I both looked out at the stage. "I meant that chick who did Never Say," he clarified, "If I'm remembering right, she sounded just like her." I shook my head. How the hell did he do that?
     "Nah," I lied, still shaking my head, "Misty had a lower singing voice. I don't think she and Nina sounded anything alike."
     "They kinda look alike, though too," Richie muttered, still watching Nina. I glanced at him and frowned. He was determined to make the connection. I couldn't tell if he was trying to find out if Nina and I were together or if Nina was really a stripper. Either one was just as likely as the other, in Richie's case.
     I shrugged. "Misty's boobs were bigger," I countered. Richie thought about it a moment and then nodded in agreement. I smirked. Of course.
     We stood there just watching the crew work for a minute. I remembered thinking how at home Nina looked onstage back in '83. She looked it again today. There were a lot of similarities to that night. Except this time, Nina was with me.
     The more I watched her, the more I wanted to pull her into a broom closet. That short hair was so different. It was sexy. I wanted a reason to go over there again, to talk to her. Then I remembered.
     "I'll be right back," I mumbled, climbing the steps away from Richie.
     Nina glanced down at my boots as I approached. God, she was insistent. I motioned for her to walk offstage with me as I continued to the opposite side of the stage. When we reached the bottom of the steps where Richie couldn't see, I turned back to her. There were still people walking around and in and out of the tunnel on this side, including The Bozz, so I still couldn't act too friendly. It was terrible. All I wanted to do was run my fingers through her hair.
     "Yes?" Nina asked, seeming a little annoyed that I'd pulled her away from her task. I could tell from that look in her eyes and the way that she twiddled with her necklace that she was nervous about being seen with me.
     I cleared my throat, glancing over at The Bozz talking to one of the crewmen about something. "I wanted to talk to you about a couple things," I mumbled, watching the tour manager's conversation. I wanted him to witness what I was about to say to her.
     Nina stared at me, leaning forward a little impatiently when I didn't continue. "And those things are..?" she asked, shaking her head.
     "Notes!" I declared, snapping my attention back to Nina when The Bozz turned away from the crewman. He started over toward us, so I continued loud enough for him to hear as he approached. "I loved those notes you did after shows during the first tour," I told her, "But this tour I want you to bring me notes after every show about sound quality and any technical....." I struggled to find the right word as The Bozz stopped slightly behind Nina, who was giving me a suspicious glare the whole time, "Uh.."
     "Abnormalities," The Bozz suggested. Nina jumped a little and turned to look at him. I snapped and pointed. The Bozz smiled at her and then nodded to me. Nina shook her head as she turned back to me.
     "You want me to do that personally?" she challenged.
     "You are the sound tech," I answered, "Those topics are your specialty and I want to get involved in how I sound." The Bozz smirked.
     Nina nodded and shrugged. "Yeah, okay, I guess I can do that," she sighed, "What else?"
     "The speaker in the dressing room," I began. The Bozz stepped away from us, patting my shoulder as he passed me. I watched Nina glance around me to where he'd gone as I finished, "I need it turned off. I don't need to hear Judas Priest's show right after we come offstage."
     This seemed to catch Nina's attention. She blinked and brought her eyes back to me with a confused expression. "What do you mean?"
     "The speaker in our dressing room is hooked up to the soundboard right now," I explained, "You were listening to Brown Eyed Girl then you played Hallelujah."
     Nina's looked surprised. "You heard that," she stated, nodding a little but staring at the floor. Her fingers were still anxiously fiddling with the guitar pick that hung from the thin leather cord around her neck. "Good to know," she mumbled. She recovered from her surprise relatively quickly and smiled at me, dropping her necklace to clasp her hands in front of her. "I'm gonna go fix that now. Don't worry, you won't have to listen to Judas Priest."
     She still seemed preoccupied with something. She was probably worried about the band recognizing her singing, but that was only my guess. She probably had plenty else on her plate. It was the first day of tour after all. She started to turn away when I spoke again.
     "Hey, Nina?" She stopped and looked back at me expectantly. I wanted to kiss her. I probably would have settled for a hug, but I couldn't. The things I'd have said to her right then if I could have. What could I say that wouldn't seem like we were together? She raised an eyebrow, still waiting. Finally, I just sighed, "It's good to see you again."
     Nina smiled a little, her cheeks getting a little pink. That stupid blush. "I missed you too," she snickered sarcastically. She held eye contact for a minute longer as I smirked at our inside joke, then she walked away.
     Two more weeks in Canada and then we'd spend a while in New York before heading out to Japan. Until then, there wouldn't really be a sufficient break for both Nina and I to have some time together. I was looking forward to tour, but I was not looking forward to this.