'Baby's Theme'

A familiar trope about a wife who trades up - at exactly the wrong time. In two parts. Part 2 tomorrow.

'Baby's Theme'

1

Barry Danvers started to enter Will Price's office with a nod from Will's secretary, Janie. The two constantly flirted with each other. Janie was a beautiful woman, but, as they each were happily married, both knew the fun workplace flirtation would never go anywhere. Besides, Barry's wife Ginny worked down the hall.

"He's expecting you," she smiled as he passed her desk.

"Do I have to?" He put on his best sullen face. "I'd rather stay here with you."

"Barry! Get the hell in here!" Will yelled from the other room.

"I guess that's my cue," he muttered. Then he smiled at her again. "Can I please stay?"

"Maybe next time." She winked at him.

"I'm holding you to that!" With that he pushed open the door and walked into Will's spacious office.

"Nice of you to finally join us," said Will sarcastically, as he leaned back from his large glass top desk.

Barry just smiled as he walked over to the coffee bar Will had set up on the far wall. He poured himself a black coffee with one sugar packet before joining Will and the other two men seated in front of the desk. He, Stan Phelps and Jerry Grayson made up the trio of Vice Presidents under Will's leadership.

Thirty-five years ago, a young William Price left a good job with Geffen Records and went out on his own to create Price Records. Following the playbook of Virgin Records, he began by attracting some of the talent that traditional record companies passed on. Quickly learning to adapt or die, his little company flourished. Moving from vinyl to CD's and now to streaming, Will and his team worked hard to stay in front of the trends.

Barry joined Price Records twenty years ago. Stan and Jerry came the next year. The trio quickly formed a tight bond with their complementary strengths. Barry was Mr. Outside, finding and managing the talent. Stan was Mr. Inside, overseeing the books and the operation. Jerry was The Conductor, due to his gift of getting the right sound in the studio for the different artists. He joked that his goal was to get an artist with a sound of 80 walking in, to be 100+ when they walked out. Now, each had their own staff, but they personally kept close to the action to stay sharp. It was a cutthroat business.

Will listened passively as each gave their weekly rundown of their respective departments. He nodded in agreement as each of the three gave updates.

"So, I watched the movie "Rocky" last night," he said.

"I love that movie," Stan agreed. "Stallone is great."

Will nodded. "Yeah. But what hit me, and it's what most people forget, is the beginning, where Apollo Creed and his team agree that they want to find a no-name fighter to go against the champ when the real opponent gets injured."

"Sounds like there's a point to this Hollywood memory," said Barry, sipping on his coffee.

"There is." Will leaned back in his chair. "The underdog, the nobody, the nothing. Somebody who's got the talent - but life got in the way. What if we gave them a shot? A shot at the brass ring?"

"That sounds very noble," said Stan. "But what about all the TV shows that are targeting amateur talent? And everybody and their brother are making online videos. Do you really think there's anyone still out there?"

"He's got a point," Jerry chimed in.

"Of course they're still out there," said Barry. "That is what I do. I find that needle in a haystack. But what are you trying to say, Will?"

Will leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers in front of him. "I want to put you back on the road. Hit the bars, honkytonks, and nightclubs. You know what we're looking for."

Barry took another sip of the coffee. "How long?"

"Whatever it takes."

"Then I need to take Ginny."

"Agreed! You know I trust her more than you." Will was smiling.

Both Stan and Jerry looked down while also smiling.

Barry's wife Virginia was a beloved part of the team. She had started seventeen years ago as a secretary to Will Price but soon caught the eye of Barry. After a whirlwind romance, they married within a year. Will even gave her away as her own father was deceased. She and Barry have been going strong for the past sixteen years. And now she was the personnel manager for Price Records.

"Yeah," agreed Barry. "I know you do. Of course, I do, too!"

"I was wondering if we might get a little input from your sister-in-law?" Will knew this was a touchy subject.

"Maybe," Barry slowly answered, looking over Will's shoulder through the large windows. "I'll have to go through Ginny. I don't want to upset that applecart."

"Understood." Will said with a finality. "Stan, get Barry set up with whatever he and Ginny will need. Jerry, I'm relying on you to do your magic on whatever Barry brings us."

Both nodded their understanding.

"What kind of talent are we looking for?" asked Barry.

"Your call," said Will. "Whatever will sell. Whatever has a story behind it. We trust you."

"Alright," said Barry, rising from his chair and dumping the coffee grounds in the sink. "I'll turn over my duties to Sam. And I'll have Ginny turn hers over to whoever she thinks can manage it."

"I really appreciate this," said Will, also standing up. "Boys, I feel good about this."

With that, the meeting broke up. Barry walked down the hall to talk to his wife.

2

Robbie Foster looked around the empty band room and sighed. It was the last day of school for the under-classmen. The seniors had their graduation ceremony late last week. It was always a bittersweet experience saying goodbye to students who had become friends. He had been walking around the room putting the larger instruments away in cases and on shelves while stacking the chairs in the corners. Normally, he'd have the band members doing this work, but he had excused them early today so they could start their summer vacation.

He then cleaned his desk. Grades were already done, and all the last-minute paperwork got completed yesterday. Even with all the extra work he still finished two hours earlier than normal.

Again, he took a moment to look around. He had been the band director for the Valley Eagles here outside of Atlanta for the last nineteen years. It started as a lifeline to a scary future, but he had come to really enjoy it.

He shook his head as the memories came flooding back. Happy childhood in Missouri. Falling in love with the guitar after his father took him to see the legendary Roy Clark in concert. Demanding his parents buy him one. Practicing for hours. During high school he led a band playing rock and blues music. Then hearing flamenco and classical guitar legends. A pivot leading to a full scholarship to Juilliard playing classical guitar. After graduation, he would be in demand worldwide. His world lay out in front of him.

What's the old saying? Man plans, God laughs. The fly in the ointment of Robbie's plans was the beautiful Amy Rogers. First meeting the tall, thin, and very cute blonde in history class during their sophomore year of high school. Finally getting up the nerve to ask her out to a movie. His shock when she accepted. And then, both realized they had lots in common: love of music, politics, even to a warped view of the world. From that point on, young love began to blossom. First, simply holding hands then early attempts to kiss. Then slowly continuing in a sexual way while confirming that they were meant for each other. Even both sets of parents approved. By the end of the year, they were inseparable.

That summer, they gave up their virginities to each other. Again, it was equal parts awkward and wonderful. From that point on they lived by the axiom that practice makes perfect. They had sex as often as possible. Robbie always wore condoms.

All the big high school events they went to as a couple. As Amy matured, her beauty began to shine. Other guys took notice, but no one could come between her and Robbie. He matured into a handsome man that just happened to play a mean guitar. Girls tried to get to him also, but they, too, were shot down.

When they graduated, they sat down and had a serious conversation about their future. Robbie was headed to New York to Juilliard. Amy was going to the University of Missouri ninety miles away in Colombia. Could or should they try to keep their relationship going? Robbie said yes. He would be home for all the major holidays. They could do it. Amy wasn't so sure but was willing to give it a try. She loved Robbie, but the idea of spreading her wings sounded appealing. With a deep breath each gave their approval to the other that they could see others. If they were meant to be together, they would be together. So, on that shaky ground, they said goodbye in late August of that year and headed off to their respective universities.

Each had flings in college. But when the holidays rolled around, they were back home sharing a bed or the backseat of a car if parents were around. Neither spoke of the other partners they had. That was one of their rules. During the first two summers, again they were inseparable. But during the summer between junior and senior year, Robbie was invited to intern and play with the Boston Pops. This was an offer he could not turn down.

While Amy was super proud of him, she was also lonely. So, she accepted the offer to date Adam Lang, a local boy who skipped college and worked construction. He was handsome and strong with a deep tan since he worked in the sun all day. And he was the opposite of Robbie. Where Robbie was cautious, Adam threw caution to the wind. Robbie was intelligent and slow to anger. Adam was street smart with a short fuse. Robbie loved music. Adam had zero musical taste. She loved Robbie but Adam was here and available.

It didn't take long for Amy to end up in Adam's bed. While Robbie spent the summer playing his guitar for hours a day and helping with other duties, Amy and Adam spent all their free time together. It didn't take long for word to reach Robbie about Amy's exploits. He was hurt but he remembered their agreement. And he just had one more year of school.

During Christmas break, she reappeared in his life. Adam was just a summer fling, she said. She and Robbie were meant to be together. So, like a whipped puppy, he took her back. They again made love.

Spring break in March was more of the same. They were in each other's arms and beds constantly.

Then, two weeks before May graduation, Robbie got a dreaded phone call. He was balancing two offers from different symphony orchestras. Both were going to be world tours.

"We have to talk." It was Amy.

"Okay, I'm listening," Robbie sat down in his dorm room.

"I'm pregnant. It's yours."

"Wow!" he stuttered. This was not a conversation he envisioned. "I thought you said you were on the pill."

"I am," she said. "I guess some of your guys got by."

"So," he was still stammering. "What do you want to do?"

"I'm keeping it," she said. "Mom and Dad will help me."

"I know," he said. "Please give me some time to think. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Okay," she sniffed. "I love you, Robbie."

"I love you, too, Amy. I'll call tomorrow."

He took a deep breath then called his father, Jack. He knew he was in for a lecture, but his father was fair. He would understand. After explaining the situation, Robbie asked for his advice.

"I don't know, son," Jack said. "But we raised you to do the right thing. I think you know what you must do."

"I know," Robbie sighed. "I'm just confused right now. And there is a possibility the baby isn't mine."

"I agree," said Jack. "That's why I want you to do a paternity test at once after the baby is born. I would not even tell Amy you did it. If it is yours, you'll want to keep that paperwork hidden away. You may need it someday. And if it's not, that will be another decision."

"Looks like my career path just changed."

"Yep. Go talk to your counsellor, Mr. Carlton. He may have a few suggestions."

"Good idea. I'll do that tomorrow. Thanks Dad!"

"You're welcome. Remember, your mom and I love Amy. And, if the baby is yours, we'll love it, too. Whatever you decide, we're proud of you."

"Thanks again."

The next morning found Robbie in Mr. Carlton's office. As with his father the day before, he explained the situation.

"What are you thinking?" asked Mr. Carlton.

"I have to do the right thing," Robbie answered. "I guess that changes my career options. Any suggestions?"

"Some orchestras and bands don't travel as often," he started, as he pulled up files from his computer. "But the hours would still be awful. I'm not sure a marriage with a baby would survive."

"Thought so." Robbie muttered.

"Have you thought about directing?"

"No," Robbie leaned forward in his chair. "Directing what?"

"Maybe high school or junior high band."

"No. That never crossed my mind."

"Well," Mr. Carlton leaned back in his chair. "You should. You've got the credits. I know you have been through the conducting class. What do you think?"

"Well," Robbie glanced out the windows behind Mr. Carlton. "It would keep me in the music business."

"And the hours would work for a newly married family man. Of course, you'll never get rich as a band director."

Robbie smiled. "That has never interested me. Of course, Amy might not take that as well."

"Then you might want to talk to her first," suggested Mr. Carlton. "But I'll need to know soon if we need to get your name and resume in front of these schools."

"I'm from Missouri. Any schools in that region?"

"Yeah," Mr. Carlton was tapping on his keyboard. "One near Atlanta, another outside Nashville, and one in Kansas City. Any preference?"

"No," said Robbie. "Please get the ball rolling. I'm going to do the honorable thing. Thank you so much for this, Mr. Carlton."

And here he was, twenty years after that conversation still leading the Valley Eagle band. He discovered he loved teaching. And he was still playing his guitar. Both in front of the band during practice when he was teaching difficult passages and during private lessons. And he still got to play in front of an audience every few nights with the band he and his friends put together - The Stormers. In fact, they were playing tonight at the Starlight Club. That thought spurred him to get the room locked up sooner. He grabbed a couple of the extra boxes that he wanted to keep in his garage at home and locked the doors. Another year in the books. He smiled at the thought.

Driving home, he thought about his little family. Lizzie was going to stay in Athens at the University of Georgia for summer school. She was the wonderful, gorgeous, unplanned blessing of Robbie and Amy's life. Yes, Robbie had gone home after his talk with Mr. Carlton and his graduation. He proposed to Amy and they packed and moved to Georgia after he accepted the position with Valley. For the first two and a half years, they rented a small home before finding a nice two-story brick house for sale that quickly became home.

He was with Amy for the birth of Elizabeth Ann. They quickly started calling her Lizzie. As proud a father as could be, he never forgot the advice of his own father. So, at the first available opportunity away from Amy, he demanded a paternity test. Two weeks later, he got the wonderful news that yes, indeed, he was the father. He breathed a sigh of relief and quietly filed the papers away.

And Amy. The beautiful blonde that had been his love and partner since high school. And next month will be their twentieth anniversary. Yes, they fought and argued like all married couples, but they always made up. Generally, they were on the same page of life, though recently he felt like she was pulling away.

As he pulled onto his street, he saw a big Cadillac SUV parked on his side of the driveway. So, he parked in the street. Grabbing the boxes in the backseat, he headed to the side door of the garage. He assumed the Caddy belonged to one of the girls from her office. They occasionally got together.

He set the boxes down and walked into the house. He came face to face with his wife. She was standing in the kitchen pouring two cups of coffee. She stopped mid-pour and stared at him.

"You're home early," she said.

"Yeah."

He just stared at her. She was wearing nothing but her short robe that barely hid her naked rear end. It was a light shimmering silk that Robbie had bought her last year. At least she had tied it around her midsection.

"Hey, honey, what's taking so long! Get back up here!" The male voice upstairs yelled.

Amy just closed her eyes for a second and shook her head. Why are men so stupid?

Neither of them moved. Robbie started breathing heavily.

"Henry!" she yelled. "Get dressed and come down. Robbie's here."

"Care to tell me what's going on?" Robbie hissed.

She took a deep breath. "This isn't how I wanted to talk to you. But I guess this is as good a time as any. Robbie, I want a divorce. I met Henry Carter last year and, well, we fell in love."

"Love?" Robbie sputtered. "We've been together since high school! We have a daughter! A home! A life!"

"A daughter who's in college. A tiny home. You've got your kids at school and your little band. I had such high expectations for you! But you're nothing! I'm the one that had to go back to work to pay for nice things! Robbie, it hurts me to say it, but you're a loser. I've waited twenty years for you to grow up! But, dammit, you never did!"

At that moment, a handsome man of about fifty walked into the kitchen. He was dressed in slacks and a green polo shirt. He tried to smile at Robbie.

Robbie silently glared at him. He was the enemy.

"Robbie, this is Henry Carter. He owns eight of the Fatsy Patsy restaurants around Atlanta. Also, a bunch of real estate. And a house in Buckhead. He loves me, Robbie. So, I've decided to trade up. I know this is a lot to throw at you. And I really did love you. For a long time. But now it's my time. And I want to be with Henry."

She looked at her feet. "I'm sorry, Robbie. Henry, I'm going to pack a couple of suitcases. Give me a few minutes."

As she went up the stairs, the men just stared at each other for a moment.

"Get the hell out of my house!" seethed Robbie. "Now!"

"I think I'll wait for Amy," Henry smiled.

Robbie grabbed the paperweight they kept on the counter and raised it up threatening to swing it at Henry.

Henry quickly backed up and yelled at Amy. "I'll be outside! Holler if you need me!"

With that, he dashed out the front door.

Robbie set the paperweight back on the counter and slowly walked into the living room and sat down on the sofa facing the stairs. How did his whole world turn to dust in a matter of minutes? Did she ever love him? For her, he had thrown away a career. And, dammit, she had thrown that back in his face!

A few minutes later, she appeared at the top of the stairs with two of their suitcases. He just glared at her. He felt nothing. She had to wrestle the suitcases down the stairs. He made no attempt to help. She was now on her own.

"Stop it, Robbie." She glared back at him. "That look doesn't become you."

She set the suitcases down as she stood by the door. Then she turned to face him. "I'll be back for the rest of my stuff later. You'll always have a place in my heart. And we share Lizzie. For that, I'm forever grateful. Goodbye, Robbie. I hope you have a good life. Maybe you'll find someone who doesn't need to go anywhere, either. I'll get the divorce papers to you later."

With that, she was gone. Henry loaded her suitcases in his car, but she got in hers and followed him.

Robbie glanced up at the clock. Less than thirty minutes had passed. His world as he knew it had blown up in thirty minutes!

"I need a drink," he said to himself. "No, I need to call Lizzie."

So, he did. It didn't take long for him to explain the odd phone call.

"No way, Dad!" she cried. "She wouldn't do that to us!"

"Sorry, honey, but she did. And pointed out that I was a loser."

"Oh my God! That's unbelievable!"

"Yeah. I guess she wants money and status more than me."

"What's the bastard's name?"

"Henry Carter. I guess he owns a bunch of the Fatsy Patsy joints. And he lives in Buckhead. She made sure to point that trivial fact out to me."

"I hate her!"

"No! Do not say that! She is still your mother. Besides, now you'll get to see how the other half lives." He was smiling as he finished.

"I guess," she was snickering, too. "But I'm a Foster. And I'll always be a Foster."

"And I love you more than you'll ever know." Robbie was sobbing quietly.

"Daddy, do you need me to come home? I don't really want you to be home alone right now."

"No, sugar. You stay at school. I'll manage."

"Please don't do anything stupid, okay? I need my dad!!"

"Honey, I promise. Good luck talking to your mom. I assume she'll be calling you soon."

"I love you, dad."

"And I love you. Take care. I'll call you soon. Or call me."

"Bye, dad."

"Bye, babe."

Robbie leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Maybe this nightmare would end. His buzzing phone jolted him awake. He glanced at the clock as he reached for his phone. He had been drifting for almost an hour. He saw that it was Sue calling.

"Hi," he muttered.

"Hey Robbie," Sue sounded upbeat. "Regarding the show tonight..."

"I don't think I'm up for it, Sue."

"Oh no you don't, buster!" She began. "This is the Starlight. This is big!"

"Amy walked out on me," he calmly explained.

"What? Amy what?"

"She walked out on me. She found a damn rich guy and decided he was better than me. I've been replaced. She's gone."

"When?"

"About an hour ago."

"What about Lizzie?"

"I called her. Told her everything."

"Is she on her way home?"

"No. She wanted to, but I told her to stay in school."

"Then I'm coming over! You can't be alone! Patrick will be fine for a while."

"No, Sue. Thanks, but no. I'll be okay. I tell you what - I'll see you tonight at the Starlight. Maybe playing is what I need."

"You promise?"

"Yeah, I promise."

"If you're not there by six-thirty, I'm sending Noah and Steve to drag you here. And you know that won't be pleasant!"

"Ha! Yes, my dear, I'll be there."

3

As Amy Foster drove away from her home of seventeen years, she had mixed emotions. She finally did it. A clean break. Was she sorry? Not really. This was a long time coming and her chance to grab the brass ring. And, dammit, it was her turn to get that ring. A chance that may never come again.

Did she still love Robbie? Maybe, but that love started to die a few years ago. Seven years before, after being a housewife and raising Lizzie, she had told Robbie she wanted - no - needed to get back in the workforce. After a long discussion about how household duties would be divided up between the three of them, he gave her his blessing.

She soon got a position with a law firm as a secretary. At the end of her second year, she had advanced to being an executive secretary for three of the partners. Her professionalism, charm, and intelligence made her a natural favorite. And she seemed to age backwards. With every passing year, she was even more beautiful. As the partners were all almost seventy years old, there was no hint of impropriety. But being around the wealth of the firm and their clients started to get to her. Why should she not be one of them? And why was her husband a lowly band director while moonlighting with his damn guitar?

Of course, she knew that he had given up his career when she got pregnant with Lizzie and took the job at Valley because he could work regular hours and be home to help her. But she expected that to be temporary. Instead, here they were, twenty years later, with nothing to show for it.

And so, eight months ago, when the debonair Henry Carter walked into her office, she was ready and willing. Handsome, rich, and a great personality made him a prize catch. His first wife had died three years before, and, though he wasn't looking for a replacement, the gorgeous Amy Foster caught his eye. Once he turned on the charm, she melted. They started with a simple lunch. That's when she started complaining about her husband and how lonely it was to have an empty nest since her daughter had left for college.

By their third get-together, she had succumbed to his charms and ended up in his bed. And what a bed! This was easily a $2 million home with a Porsche and a Cadillac SUV in the garage. Five bedrooms, over 6,000 square feet, and on three manicured acres. She pinched herself. This was heaven. She realized after the first time with Henry in his bed that she felt no guilt betraying her vows to Robbie. This was now home.

She told Robbie she needed to start working late twice a week. She spent that time in Henry's bed. Was he better than Robbie? The answer was no, but the newness and the wealth behind the encounters tipped the scales in Henry's favor. After three months, Henry professed his love. She felt it, too. At that point, they were trying to figure out a good time to tell Robbie that it was over.

When Robbie walked in earlier as she made coffee, she knew the sneaking around while cheating was over. It was time to bring it out in the open. She thanked her lucky stars that he walked in when he did. Ten minutes earlier or later and he would have caught them in the middle of their copulation. That would have been embarrassing, and Robbie might have done some serious damage.

Thinking of Robbie led her to think of Lizzie. She needed to call her. Robbie probably already has, but she needs to hear from her mother. Thinking of both her current husband and her daughter took her back to her pregnancy. In high school, she and Robbie were inseparable. But going to different colleges allowed her to sow her wild oats. To see what was out there. With help from her sorority sisters, she put herself out there and was rarely without a date every weekend. Many of those dates ended in bed. But she had no desire to pursue anything serious, because she had her guitar player in New York that she would see during school breaks. For her, playing the field made her a better lover to Robbie. Then, during the summer break of their junior to senior year, he didn't come home because of the job in Boston.

She was lonely and ticked! She badly wanted Robbie in her bed. And now he wasn't here. Enter Adam Lang. A guy she didn't like in High School. But now he had changed. Strong, tough, and extremely good looking. She melted in his arms when he asked her to dance. From there, they started seeing each other constantly. He was rougher in bed than anyone she had been with, but she loved it. He tired of wearing condoms and demanded she get on the pill. She didn't hesitate to comply. As she was falling harder for him, he simply dumped her. He said he wasn't going to be tied down.

She ended the summer back with Robbie during the few days he was back before returning to New York.

During Christmas break, Adam reappeared taking her to bed for three days before disappearing again. At that point, Robbie was back.

Spring break was a day for day repeat. First Adam, then Robbie. And then her life went to hell. She missed her next period. She shared her concern with her friend Kim.

"Get a pregnancy test," Kim instructed. "I'll help you."

They did and it came back positive. Twice it came back positive.

"What am I going to do?" asked Amy.

"What do you want to do?" Kim countered.

"I want the child," she said. "I know my parents will be upset, but I know they'll help."

"What about Robbie? He's the father, isn't he?" asked Kim.

"Damn! I hadn't even thought about that!"

"Well?"

"I don't know. Maybe?" Amy put her face in her hands.

"Who else could it be?"

"Adam Lang," she said, through her fingers. "I've been having sex with both of them."

"Really!?!" Kim yelled. Then she calmed down. "Does Robbie know?"

"Of course not!"

Kim smiled. "So, you are in control here."

"What do you mean?"

"You get to pick the father."

"No way! A simple paternity test will prove or disprove whatever I say."

"Yeah, and who's going to ask for one?"

Amy thought for a moment. "My god! I think you're right!"

"Okay," said Kim. "Now we get down to it. Who do you want to be the father? Robbie or Adam?"

"I don't know."

"Well, let's make a list," Kim said, pulling out paper and a pen. "Who's the better lover?"

"Robbie is the better lover, but Adam is more dominant."

"Then I'm putting a mark on both sides. Who makes more money?"

"Well, right now it's Adam of course, because he's working. But if Robbie gets on with the orchestra, he'll be doing much better."

"Okay, that's one for Robbie. The future, who's the better father?"

"Definitely Robbie. He loves kids."

"Another check for Robbie. How about the future for you? Which one do you want in your life daily?"

"Probably Robbie. We'll be a team. With Adam, I'm afraid I might turn into a doormat. Still, there's something about Adam."

"Another Robbie check." Kim ignored the last sentence as she slid the paper towards Amy. "I think it's pretty cut and dried who the father needs to be."

Amy glanced at the sheet. "Yeah, I guess so. Time to go talk to my parents and make a couple of phone calls. Thanks, Kim. You're a great friend."

"Anytime!" Kim smiled. "I am so excited for you!"

After the original phone call to Robbie, he called her back the next evening to tell her he was coming home after graduation and that his plans had changed. He was applying for band director jobs so they could be together as a family. She was so excited and happy. Life was good again.

And then there was Adam. Six weeks after Amy broke up with him for good, he and his buddies were drag racing when he lost control and slammed into a tree. He died instantly. Maybe it was her hormones or the pregnancy, but Amy cried for a week. The other possible father was dead. Now she needed Robbie.

That thought brought her back to the present. She took in the lush valley as she was pulling in Henry's driveway and parking her Toyota in the open garage where Henry was directing her to park next to the Cadillac. Now she didn't need Robbie. She wanted Henry. Life was getting even better.

4

Henry Carter breathed a sigh of relief. He had won her. And she dumped her husband right in front of him. That was just icing on the cake. Normally, he enjoyed fooling around with married women because they both had something to lose. But Amy Foster was different. She was gorgeous. She was smart. She had class. She was good in bed and in a social setting. She could hold a conversation. She was driven to enjoy a better life.

And Henry needed these things in a mate in his life again. When he had lost his Mae over three years ago, a piece of him died also. Even though he had several affairs over the eighteen years they were together, she was always his rock. That's why it hurt when her will was read he found that she did not leave the bulk of her estate to him. She had donated it to some damn wildlife preserve. So, his wealth wasn't as secure as he had planned.

And now it was Amy's turn. He knew that once she got hooked on the lifestyle of a wealthy wife, that he could return to having an occasional affair. He planned on having her sign a draconian prenup and getting her signature on some of his loan documents. Then he could breathe again. Those were his thoughts as he directed her to park in the garage.

5

The Starlight is a large dinner and dancing nightclub. The motif is mid-century modern. Two large rooms can hold 750 people. Dinner tables are set up in the south room with large floor-to-ceiling sliding wood and glass doors that open to the north room with a large dance floor and a raised stage at the far end. To the left is a long bar where two or three bartenders will be working simultaneously on a busy evening. The wood is a light walnut with muted pastel-colored walls with sharp angled brightly painted wood pieces that double as wall art.

Band members were setting up their instruments and sound equipment when Robbie joined them carrying his guitar cases. He played a Gibson Les Paul electric guitar and an acoustic classical guitar.

Sue at once went over and hugged him without saying anything. Her husband Patrick also walked over and patted him on the back while Sue held him. Noah and Steve were right there, too.

"Anything, man, you know we're there for you." Steve quietly said.

Robbie dropped his head on Sue's shoulder. "I love all you guys. Thank you. Now let's make beautiful music."

There were smiles all around. Sue grabbed his face and held it in her hands. "He means it. Now, please take it easy tonight. Do you hear me?"

Robbie nodded. "Yes, ma'am. Now let me get ready."

Sue pulled his face forward to hers and kissed his cheek. "A full house tonight. We need you."

"And I need you," Robbie smiled. "Now, go!"

She smiled and nodded before turning and grabbing a cable.

The Stormers were a well-oiled machine. They each knew their part and had all the equipment set up quickly. Each did a microphone check, and they went about tuning their respective instruments against the electric piano. The management of The Starlight had some equipment and a nice old upright piano, but the group always used their own. The Starlight equipment would be used as a backup in case something went wrong.

Noah tightened down his trap set pieces, while Steve did the final connections with his piano and the electronic keyboard he stacked over his regular keyboard. Patrick checked the sound then connected his electric bass while Sue and Robbie connected both their respective classical and electric guitars.

Sue and Robbie were the singers. Sue usually sang lead with Robbie as backup, but there were a few original songs in the set list that Robbie wrote where he was the lead singer and Sue backed him up. The others sang harmony when needed.

Robbie was the lead guitar player while Sue usually strummed chords while singing.

"Okay, guys, are we ready?" She asked, as she looked at each of them. She held an extra second looking at Robbie.

He took a deep breath and exhaled quickly. Then he smiled at her. She smiled back and turned back to her microphone.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the Starlight host said into his mic, "You're in for a real treat tonight! Let's hear it for The Stormers!!"

Robbie hit his E flat chord hard. Sue started singing. The rest of the band joined in. Robbie was in his element. Music was always his lifeline. As they moved through the set, he tried to push his hurt and anger away. But it wouldn't go away. Looking into the audience, he kept seeing women who reminded him of Amy.

Sue and the other guys noticed his discomfort, but he wasn't missing any notes. As a matter of fact, his guitar sounded better than ever. And his singing was more emotional than usual.

As they hit the last notes of a country hit, Sue leaned into her mic and said, "Ladies and gentlemen, we're going to take a short break."

But Robbie started a soft wailing of another song, totally ignoring the rest of the group. The audience quieted down listening to the notes from his guitar.

"Well, maybe one more," Sue said into the mic. She looked at the other members. Nobody knew what Robbie was playing, until he slid into another chord. Patrick figured it out first and began to slowly pick the bass notes going with Robbie's guitar.

Then Robbie began to sing. They recognized the song. This was one he had written for Amy. It was simply called 'Amy's Theme'. But he was now playing it at half the tempo he normally did and in a different key. As he sang, they also realized he changed the word 'Amy' to the word 'Baby'. Noah had started using his brushes on the drums to quietly add percussion to the song. Steve added some piano and Sue simply hummed and echoed a few of the 'Baby's' that Robbie sang.

As they hit the last note, the audience started a standing ovation. Robbie just hit the last note and dropped his head on his chest.

"Robbie Foster, everyone!" yelled Sue. "An original. 'Baby's Theme'! Again, let's hear it for our guitar genius, Robbie Foster!"

He lifted his head and nodded to her. The audience was still clapping.

"Now, we're going to take that break!" She yelled. "And we'll be back shortly!"

The house music came on while the group set down their instruments.

Robbie looked at his friends. "I'm sorry about that. It just came out."

"Hey, man," Steve said. "That was impressive. Best you've ever done."

"He's right," nodded Noah.

"Are you really okay?" Sue walked over to him.

"No," he smiled. "But I'll get there. Again, I'm sorry."

"No issues," said Patrick, grabbing his wife's hand. "Just warn us next time, okay?"

Robbie smiled and nodded.

Just then a man stepped towards the stage.

"Mr. Foster," he said. "Can you join my wife and I for a few minutes? I'd like to talk to you."

Robbie eyed the man, then looked back at Sue and Patrick.

"Go!" said Sue. "Let's start the set in 20 minutes."

Robbie nodded. He turned back to the stranger. "Sure."

"I'm Barry Danvers," said the man, holding out his hand.

"Robbie Foster." Robbie shook the outstretched hand.

He followed Barry to a table along the back wall.

"This is my wife, Ginny Danvers."

Robbie noticed the beautiful woman standing up to shake his hand. "Hi."

"My pleasure, Mrs. Danvers."

"Ginny, please. And call him Barry. We're very informal."

Robbie was mesmerized by the bright smile.

The waitress picked that moment to show up.

"Can I get you something?" asked Barry.

"Just a coke, Cindy," said Robbie to the waitress.

"And a screwdriver and a white wine for us," added Barry. As the waitress walked away, Barry turned to Robbie. "Don't drink?"

"Not when I'm working. Liquor seems to deaden my skills - what little there are!" Robbie laughed.

"Oh, there's quite a bit!" Ginny responded. "You are fantastic!"

"Thankyou."

"No," added Barry. "She really means it. We should introduce ourselves. I'm a VP and outside talent agent for Price Records. Ginny is the personnel manager. And we're travelling around the country scouting for talent. And we think we just found it."

Robbie just smiled. "Where's the camera hidden? This is a joke, right?"

Ginny shook her head. "No joke. And no cameras. You are that good."

Robbie looked up for a moment, then back at the two of them. "Maybe there really is such a thing as karma."

Ginny glanced at Barry. Both had confused expressions. "Karma?" asked Barry.

"Yeah," said Robbie, looking down. "I've had a hell of a day."

"What happened?" asked Ginny. She reached out and placed her hand on top of Robbie's, which was resting on the table.

He looked at her hand. The heat felt good. Maybe it was the female touch. But he felt he could trust them. Or at least trust her. And right now, any trust from the female population outside of Lizzie or Sue was non-existent.

"My wife of twenty years informed me this afternoon that I was a loser and that she was leaving me for her lover."

"Oh my God!" Ginny bound from her chair and dashed around the table to give Robbie a full body hug. It was a little awkward as Robbie was sitting and Ginny standing but leaning over to him. Barry simply watched. This was how his wife was in any tragic situation. That was one of the reasons he loved her.

After a few moments, Ginny released her bear hug on Robbie and returned to her seat.

"Maybe we can help take the sting out of today, then," said Barry. "So, where did you learn to play like that?"

"I had a four-year full-ride scholarship to Juilliard," said Robbie. "I did an internship one summer with The Boston Pops. I'm classically trained."

"Wow!" Barry leaned back in his chair. "If I may ask, how did you end up here? No offense."

"None taken. I had offers from two orchestras to join their world tours. But just before graduation, my then-girlfriend informed me that she was pregnant. So, my plans changed. I got a high school band director position here in Atlanta with the Valley Eagles. Been there for the last twenty years. And nine years ago, my friends and I put together The Stormers. We play venues across the area. Keeps my hand in the game."

"And the girlfriend...?" asked Ginny.

"Became the wife. We have the most amazing daughter, Lizzie, who goes to school at the University of Georgia over in Athens. And today was the last day of school for me for the summer. So, I locked up the band room and headed home to see my darling wife. I had big plans this summer." He shook his head looking down at the drink in his hand. "Of course, I got hit by a big two by four from her and the boyfriend when I got home. Within thirty minutes, she was gone."

"That is awful," Ginny was tearing up. Barry rubbed her shoulders.

"What are you going to do?" he asked.

Robbie just shook his head. "No effing clue. At three this afternoon, I was a happily married family man. Now, I've got a great daughter and Sue and these guys. I guess I need a lawyer. Probably a good one. Problem is my wife works for a law firm and the bastard she ran off with is rich. I'm not. So, I'll probably get screwed in the divorce, too."

Ginny pulled out her phone and began texting.

"Who are you texting?" asked Barry.

"Frank," she said. "We certainly have someone here that can help Robbie. If so, Frank will know."

"Agreed," said Barry. "Robbie, while she's doing her thing, tell me more about your playing style. Who are your heroes?"

"Any talented player. Off the top of my head, I guess Andres Segovia, Roy Clark, Tommy Emmanuel, Jeff Beck, Jose Feliciano, Chet Atkins, Stevie Ray Vaughan, Eddie Van Halen, Eric Clapton."

"That's quite a list," said Barry.

"There are a lot more," said Robbie. "That's just the tip of the iceberg for me."

"And that last song. That was superb! What's it called?" asked Barry.

"I don't really know," answered Robbie. "I wrote it in A major and about double the speed. It was called 'Amy's Theme' for my wife. Tonight, I just had the urge to play it differently. I dropped the key to A minor and did it much slower. Of course, I'll probably have trouble saying that name forever now, so the word Baby came to mind. I guess the new name is 'Baby's Theme'. I feel like Neil Sedaka when he took his '60's hit 'Breaking Up Is Hard to Do' and remade it into a ballad years later and had another hit."

"Okay," said Ginny as she rejoined the conversation. "Robbie, I've reached out to Frank Carroll in Los Angeles. He's the company's attorney in California. He's not licensed in Georgia, but he just texted me that he'll have a couple of names for us in the morning. We're going to help you."

Robbie just looked at them. "Thank you, I think. But why would you want to help me? I mean, we just met."

"Hey, Robbie!" Sue yelled. "We're getting ready to start."

"Give me a minute," he yelled back to her.

"Because we may have a business offer for you," said Barry. "Can we meet for breakfast?"

"And because we like you," added Ginny. "I don't like cheaters. I want to help you. You are now stuck with me - with us."

Robbie smiled. "Barry, you are one lucky SOB. To have a girl like this as your wife. I envy you."

"Thanks!" Barry smiled and patted his wife's hand.

"Are there any more like you at home?" Robbie asked while looking at Ginny.

"As a matter of fact, there is," she smiled back at him. "And maybe someday, I'll introduce you."

"I'd like that!"

They traded contact information and decided to meet for breakfast. As he stood up, Ginny stopped him.

"Did you say you caught your wife and the guy in your bed?"

"Well, she was wearing her short robe and nothing else making coffee when I walked in. Then the bastard yelled down. I assume they were in our room. I plan on burning the mattress."

"No! Don't do that!" Ginny ordered. "When you get home, take all the sheets, pillowcases, comforters, and anything else on the bed and seal them up in a garbage bag. Then store it. You may need it for the divorce. Understand?"

"Understood!" He smiled. "I want to meet your at-home-you. If she's half as wonderful as you, I'll be in heaven."

"Ah, Mr. Foster, you make a girl blush. Now, get back up there and show us what you've got!"

"That's my girl," said Barry. "We'll see you in the morning, Robbie."

6

The next morning found the three of them seated at a Waffle House eating pancakes and eggs.

"How did you sleep last night?" asked Ginny.

"Like a baby," muttered Robbie. "You know the old joke about waking up every two hours and crying? That was me."

"It will get better," said Barry. "It just takes time."

"Yeah, probably about fifty years."

"No," interjected Ginny, "you'll never get over it. But you'll learn to live with it. And at some point, you'll be able to look at this event as a turning point. Or a decision point. Or simply realize that the pain isn't as sharp."

"Thank you, Ginny," Robbie smiled. "I know you are correct. But right now, it hurts like hell."

"And it will for a while," she smiled back at him. Then she pulled out a notepad as she pushed her finished plate back. "I talked to Frank this morning. He gave me the name of a good attorney. His name is Jeff Parker. Here's his contact information. He's expecting your call."

"Thank you," Robbie accepted the paper from Ginny. "I'll call him Monday."

"No, you'll call him when we finish. As I said, he's expecting your call."

"Yes, ma'am!" Robbie smiled at Barry. "Is she always this bossy?"

Barry just nodded. "She sure is!"

The waiter cleaned up their plates and refreshed their coffee.

"Now, let's get down to business," said Barry. "Robbie, you're a hell of a great guitar player and with a little work, you'll be a great singer, too. Price Records would like to sign you. "Baby's Theme" and a couple of your other original songs are potential hits."

"Wow," stammered Robbie. "You mean that?"

Both Barry and Ginny nodded.

"He means it," said Ginny. "I think you have that charisma that will charm audiences the world over."

"Thank you," Robbie was shaking his head. "The kind words are wonderful. But I'm a band director at the high school a couple of miles from here."

"That went to Juilliard," added Barry. "That played with the Boston Pops. That wowed a small crowd last night. And you did it during one of the lowest points of your life. Just think of the possibilities when you're one hundred percent."

Robbie looked down at his coffee and shook his head. "How would this work? And what about the other band members?"

"Regarding the band, I'm sorry but we are just interested in you. Are you okay with that?"

"I'll have to talk to them. I'm not sure but go on."

"Normally, I'd sign you right now," said Barry. "But your situation is different. You are staring at a divorce. If I sign you now, your soon-to-be ex will get half or more of your contract. I don't think you want that."

"I sure as hell don't!" snapped Robbie. "The bitch is already shacking up with a rich guy! I don't want to add to their money pile."

"Okay." Barry pulled out his iPad. "Round numbers, how much are you making at the school?"

"About $60k."

"And the band gigs?"

"Maybe clearing around $10k. More for fun than getting rich."

"I love that," added Ginny. "That makes you even more wonderful."

He smiled. "Thank you. I don't think my wife would agree."

"That's why she's almost an ex-wife after you call Jeff," she smiled at him.

"Touche!" Robbie smiled back at her.

"Okay," Barry turned his laptop towards Robbie and joined the conversation again. "This is a general outline of what we'd like to do. Normally, we do a 70/30 split of royalties, but with you I'll do 65/35 split. You'll get the 35%."

"Sounds fair," said Robbie. "But I own 100% of my music."

"Well," Barry sat back in his seat. "That's not how we do these things."

"It is now. I have a catalog of thirty songs. I write them, I play them, I teach others how to play them. But they are mine. That's non-negotiable."

Barry looked at his paperwork.

Robbie smiled. "Ginny, Barry, I want to thank you for breakfast. And for the kind words. And I'll call your friend Jeff soon. Good luck finding the talent you're looking for. I wish you all success."

Ginny quickly looked at Barry as Robbie rose from his seat.

"Wait! Where are you going?" Barry realized what was happening.

"Well, that dog won't hunt in my world," said Robbie, as he stood and held out his hand to shake Barry's. "So, I guess this conversation is over."

"The hell it is!" snapped Barry. Then he took a breath to calm down. "Please, sit back down. I am simply trying to figure out how we can work around this."

Robbie sat back down and took another sip of his coffee. "But I'll concede this: any music I write from this point forward we share 60/40. The 60% to me."

Barry smiled. "You've done this before. I'm not dealing with a rank amateur, am I?"

Ginny patted Robbie's hand as she spoke to her husband. "No dear, I don't think you are. Robbie may be in pain, but he's no pushover."

"I've helped three of my students sign record deals over the years. And I've helped the attorneys write contracts. So, you are correct, I know what I'm saying."

"Then let's cut to the chase," said Barry, picking up his pen. "I want to sign you. I think we can go far together. And I want us together. You're a hell of a talent - both with your voice and with the guitar. And we love your music."

"We do," added Ginny. "Thank you for sharing your pain with us. I think part of your phenomenal performance last night was because of the pain. Some of the world's greatest art comes from pain and despair. And I want to help you get over the pain while holding on to that performance. I think you can do it."

"I appreciate the vote of confidence. From both of you. Alright Barry, what are you thinking?"

"Your terms," Barry said, as he amended the paperwork in front of him. "65/35 on royalties, 100 percent to you on your current catalog, and 60/40 on future songs. We get merchandise rights."

"No, I want 10% on merchandise. I think 90% to you is fair."

Barry took another deep breath.

Ginny's smile got even brighter. "Just give him what he wants, dear."

"Okay," mumbled Barry. "90/10 on merchandise. 90% to us."

"So how will this work?" asked Robbie. "I mean, the temporary part?"

"We will sign this agreement that you and I just did for five years. The start date will be given to us by Jeff when he tells us the divorce is final. So, we sign it today without a start date. Does that work for you?"

"And in the meantime?" asked Robbie.

"You go on our payroll at $5,000 a month. We'll cover expenses. That keeps you at $60k a year. We will track the expenses and split up the dollars after the divorce takes place."

"Sounds fair," said Robbie. "I need to sit down tonight with the band and talk this through. Also, I need to bring my daughter Lizzie in the loop. Another question - what would you suggest about my job at the school?"

"Robbie, we can't answer that," said Ginny. "That is your decision. But we are talking about putting you on a plane to Los Angeles as soon as possible. With what we will need to do and having to accommodate the divorce court, I don't think you'll be back in time for the fall semester. If you wish to go ahead, you will have to resign. On the other hand, Jeff may ask you to keep that position until the divorce is completed."

Robbie nodded and glanced down at the coffee cup he was cradling in both hands. "I thought so. If we were having this conversation last week - or even yesterday afternoon - I would have told you, 'Hell no'. But now, with Lizzie away at school, I don't have anything except friends and bandmates holding me here. And maybe I do need a change of scenery."

"Let's get together again here tomorrow morning," said Barry. "It'll give you time to meet with Jeff and your bandmates. And maybe decide on your job."

"Sounds good," Robbie stood up and hugged Ginny before shaking hands with Barry. "Again, thank you for your belief in me."

"Robbie," said Barry, "we're going far together."

"And we're going to get you well," added Ginny.

7

Jeff Parker's office was downtown in the Peachtree Plaza district. Saturday, the city center of Atlanta was eerily quiet. Robbie entered the building and was told to go to the 17th floor. Robbie was impressed and slightly worried that Jeff would agree to meet on a Saturday afternoon. This might be a little expensive.

His earlier phone call to Jeff had gone smoothly. Jeff gave him a list of documents, tax forms and bank statements that he needed to bring. Luckily, both he and Amy kept good records and always had them handy. He also thanked his lucky stars that Amy had not confiscated any of these files yet. He also checked his bank statements. Nothing had been touched.

"Must be nice to have a rich benefactor," he muttered to himself as he put all the documents in his briefcase.

Jeff Parker was a short and overweight bundle of energy. Wearing jeans and a polo shirt, he met Robbie at the door to the large law firm, then led him down the hall to his office.

Robbie truly felt intimidated by the opulence of his surroundings. The office screamed wealth. Of old wealth. There was no way he could afford the services of Mr. Parker.

"Mr. Parker," he started. "I'm afraid I may not be able to afford your services. I feel bad that I have wasted your time."

"Nonsense!" said Jeff. "And please call me Jeff. Ginny Danvers called me. Price Records will pay for my services. We've got a quid pro quo between our firms. We both benefit. And you are their new talent. You and they will make millions. A few thousand to handle a divorce is peanuts to them. But you are not off the hook. I need one dollar from you. And your signature on these forms. So, are we good?"

Robbie was amazed at his good fortune as he pulled out his wallet. "Yes, sir! Thank you. Now, what do you need from me?"

"Start at the beginning," said Jeff. He laid his yellow legal pad on his desk and started to write. "I want to know every detail."

So, Robbie retold the story in more detail about what awaited him when he came home yesterday. He then went into detail about their history, including the paternity test he had done to confirm Lizzie was his daughter, and that Amy did not know that fact.

Jeff nodded as he looked over his notes. "And what did she say about the divorce papers?"

"Only that she'd get them to me later," muttered Robbie. "She works for your compatriots over at Gorman & French."

"They're not my favorite people. But they're good. So, we'll beat them to the punch. What's her boyfriend's name again?"

"Henry Carter. I guess he owns the Fatsy Patsy franchises around town. And he lives in Buckhead. She was damn proud of that!"

Jeff smiled as he wrote more notes. "He'll be easy to find. And I doubt he's as well off as she thinks. I've helped a few of those franchise owners. Some do well, but most are treading water at best. In my home state of Texas, they've got a saying, 'He's all hat and no cattle.' It means he may be more talk than substance. I'm going to investigate him, too."

"Anything else?" asked Robbie.

"Yeah, the last twenty-four hours," asked Jeff. "Have you done anything?"

"Ginny Danvers suggested I bag up the sheets and pillows from our bed. I did that. I haven't done anything with regards to our money."

"Ginny is the greatest," Jeff was smiling.

"Absolutely agree," nodded Robbie. "Since it sounds like I'm headed for the dating pool again someday, she is my new gold standard."

"Well, she does have a sister."

"That's what she said. If she's at all like Ginny..." Robbie let his thoughts trail off.

"Yeah, I think you'd like her," added Jeff.

"Have you met her?"

"Just once in passing. Now, about the money, on Monday I want you to go to a new bank - not your current bank - and open a checking and savings account only in your name. Make it a national bank so you can access them from anywhere. Then, before transferring any money, I want you to pay off all joint credit cards. Do you know the balance?"

"I think we owe around six thousand on our joint cards. She's got one in her name only and I've got one in my name."

"Your joint cards - do you have enough in your checking account to pay them off?"

"Yes."

"Then do it. Like right now. Then I want you to cancel them."

"Right now?"

"Yep. Come on, I'll get you logged in to this computer." Jeff had Robbie follow him into an empty office. Jeff turned on the computer and logged in. He then stepped back and beckoned for Robbie to sit down. "I'll leave you to it. Come back over to my office when you're done."

Fifteen minutes later, Robbie was again seated in Jeff's office. "Done."

"Good," said Jeff. "Now, after you set up the accounts on Monday, I want you to withdraw exactly fifty percent from the joint accounts and put in the new accounts. I want that fifty percent down to the penny. No funny business. Understand? And I want copies of the bank statements from the joint accounts showing the before and after numbers. I expect her attorney will be coming after us for this little stunt."

"Yes, sir."

"Okay, here's how this is going to play out," Jeff spread some papers in front of Robbie. "After she is served, Georgia has a thirty-day cooling off period. That gives each of you time to think about what you're doing and decide if you want to back out or move forward."

"We're definitely moving forward."

Jeff nodded. "I thought so, but it's still the law. Now here's where you get to make some decisions. First, do you want to do No-Fault or Fault-Based? If No-Fault, it'll be done quicker and is the standard 'irreconcilable differences', but Fault-Based we can file for adultery. And add Henry Carter's name."

Robbie nodded. "Yeah, I want to nail them both. Fault-Based it is."

"Now, what about assets?"

"Not much," Robbie shook his head. "We bought the house seventeen years ago with a thirty-year mortgage. So, there's equity there. She makes as much as I do. Lizzie is in college. She's got some scholarship money, but Amy and I are funding the balance. We don't want her to work so she can concentrate on school. And she's taking summer classes. She'll be a junior in the fall. Otherwise, our 401k's and what's in the bank."

"Alright," said Jeff. "I'll review this, but I think you'll probably have to sell the house and split the proceeds evenly. There won't be child support but you each will be on the hook for Lizzie's education. Since income is about equal and she's moved in with her boyfriend, there shouldn't be any spousal support. Any questions?"

"No. Let's just get the ball rolling."

"Sounds good. I'll have the paperwork done Monday morning. Come around eleven in the morning and I'll have you sign off on everything. We'll serve her Monday afternoon at her office."

Robbie just closed his eyes and slowly shook his head.

"Is everything okay?" asked Jeff.

"Yeah. I'm just trying to wrap my brain around this. Twenty-four hours ago, I was happily married. Now, I'm putting the finishing touches on a divorce."

"Yeah," agreed Jeff as he stood to shake Robbie's hand. "Sometimes this is a rough business. But we'll get through it. "I'll see you Monday."

"Thank you, sir," Robbie shook his hand. "Monday, it is."

8

That evening Robbie joined his bandmates at Patrick and Sue's home. Patrick barbecued some burgers and then they sat around drinking beer. Both Steve and Noah brought their spouses, Jane and Carla, and the kids. Patrick and Sue had three kids, Steve and Jane had two, and Noah and Carla also had two. All were teenagers. Lizzie was the eldest child of the group and the first to go to college. The others were still in junior and senior high school.

As the sun went down, the hot day gave way to a comfortable evening. The adults had circled the chairs around the bonfire firepit that Patrick loved. The kids were inside watching a movie.

"So, Robbie, what now?" asked Jane. She and Carla had been just as upset as the others hearing about their now ex-friend Amy. They had always been close to her. But this bombshell was totally out of left field. No one had any clue of what was transpiring between her and this new guy.

Robbie took a swig of beer. "Thank you, Jane. That's why I'm glad Sue and Patrick brought us together tonight. I need to talk to all of you."

Carla reached over and patted his leg as she and Noah were sitting closest to him. "We all love you, Robbie. If you need anything, we're here for you."

Robbie nodded to her. "You guys are the best friends ever. But I have something I need to talk to you about. And to get your permission."

"Okay, pal, now you've got our full attention," said Patrick. "Whatever it is, you have our blessing."

"You haven't heard it yet," Robbie looked back at him. "You may feel different in a minute."

"Then out with it," said Noah.

"Okay," Robbie took a deep breath. "The couple from the Starlight last night that I talked to between sets. It turns out they're from Price Records in California. They've asked me to sign with them and move to LA."

"All of us, or...?" asked Sue.

"Just me." Robbie was looking at his feet, unable to face his friends.

"Well," Steve slowly spoke. "That is wonderful news for you. Jane and I couldn't follow you anyway. Not with Jane's parents here and the boys in high school."

"And we're in the same boat," added Noah. "Carla and I just bought the house, and my promotion just came in. And Penny and Chase would kill us if we tried to move now."

"And my roots are here," said Sue. "So, we're not leaving either. Right, Patrick?"

"Um, right," Patrick understood his wife's question. "Robbie, that's fantastic news! We're all super excited for you!"

"And you need to get away from here," added Carla. "A new start will do you a world of good."

"Are you guys sure about this?" Robbie looked at each of his friends. "I haven't agreed to anything yet. And I'm still going to be around while I go through this divorce. But I'm asking you as friends and family - do you think I should say yes or no? Because, two days ago, I wouldn't hesitate to say no. But now - well now you are my only friends. And you'd have to find a new guitar player."

"Ha! That'll be the easy part!" Sue exclaimed, though she had tears running down her cheeks. Then she spoke softly. "Robbie, you must do this. You need to do this. For Lizzie. Even for us. But, especially for you. This is your chance to prove that Amy made a terrible mistake. One that she'll lament for the rest of her life."

"Yeah, wouldn't that be the ultimate irony? A wife trades up only to find that the original one was the true winner! I love it!" Patrick took another swallow of beer. "We're behind you one thousand percent, man!"

"Really? Are you all in agreement? Because I'm supposed to give Barry my answer in the morning." Robbie scanned their faces.

They were all nodding.

"Then I guess I'll tell him yes. Guys, you are the greatest friends this poor guy has ever and will ever have." Robbie stood up. "I guess I better say good night at this point. It's been a long day."

All three women stood and hugged him. Sue was last and she hugged him the longest. "Just promise you won't forget us when you get rich and famous!"

"I'm sorry, what was your name again?"

She hit him in the chest. "Don't even joke about that! Or I'll definitely put you in your place!"

He smiled and hugged her again. "Thank you. All of you. I'm feeling really lost right now. You're my lifeline. If only Amy.... never mind. Well, I've got to go. I'm still going to be around for a while as I get my new life organized. So, this isn't goodbye."

"I'll walk you out," said Patrick.

After he left, the others continued to drink and were lost in their own thoughts for a moment.

"We've got to do something," Sue blurted out. "Something to help him. Or something to even the score a little."

"Like what?" asked Noah.

Steve leaned forward and smiled. "What's the bastard's name that Amy ran off with?"

"Henry something," said Noah. "Yeah, the guy that owns some of the Fatsy Patsy restaurants around."

"Henry Carter!" yelled Sue, as she googled the restaurants. "And now we know which ones he owns."

"I think we should make his life a living hell," smiled Steve.

"But how would we do that?" asked Carla. "We don't know the first thing about whatever it is we're thinking of doing."

Everyone laughed at that statement.

"But she's right," said Patrick. "We aren't teenagers anymore. What are we going to do?"

Noah perked up at that statement. He got up and opened the sliding glass door. "Hey kids, can you come out and join us for a few minutes. We've got something we want to discuss."

Everyone else joined his laugh.

Noah turned back to the adults. "Robbie can never know about any of this. Agreed? Which means we can't do anything till he leaves town. Are we all on board?"

Once the kids joined them on the patio, Patrick turned to them. "You guys know how much we all love Uncle Robbie. We need your help. Here's what we're thinking..."

9

"Dad, that's the most awesome news!" Lizzie cried onto the phone when Robbie told her about the potential record deal and meeting Barry and Ginny. "I'm so excited for you! My Dad, a recording star! That is fantastic! And maybe I can sneak along sometimes and meet big-time celebrities!"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, okay?" joked Robbie. "But they do want me to fly out there and record. Possibly do some touring. I really don't know."

"When would you start?"

"Again, I'm not sure. The divorce must go through first," muttered Robbie. "Speaking of that, have you talked to your mother?"

"Yeah, and that didn't go too well. I basically told her she was a slut and a cheating whore!"

"Lizzie! She is still your mother. I want you to have a relationship with her. Whatever her problems with me are, she still loves you. Don't forget that!"

"See, look at how great you are, Dad. She craps all over you, and you tell me not to be upset with her! I love you, Dad! Her, not so much. At least, not now."

"Okay, but please don't burn that bridge entirely. Agreed?"

"Yeah, I guess," Lizzie hesitantly agreed. "But it'll be fun telling her about your new career!"

No, babe!" snapped Robbie. "You can't do that! We've got to keep this a secret. Just Sue, the band members and you know. Nobody else. We need to keep it a secret from her."

"Why?"

"Because if your mom or her boyfriend finds out about this, they'll demand half the contract. And I'm not paying one damned cent more to them than I must! Sorry for cussing."

Lizzie snickered. "Dad, I hear worse words every day. And remember, I'm a Foster! She won't get one iota of information from me!"

"Good girl! I love you," Robbie said quietly. "You may be contacted about the divorce. And I'll keep you posted on everything."

"Thanks, Dad," she responded, sniffling. "I love you, too."

10

Amy Foster slowly woke up Sunday morning forgetting for a moment where she was. Then she began to take in her surroundings. The sunlight dancing along the ceiling. The silk sheets. The large room. The king-sized bed. The maple wood furniture. Not until she looked to her right and saw the dark-haired man with graying temples still in a deep sleep. She smiled at herself. It was real. This was real. Her life. No apologies and no regrets. She rolled over and draped her arm over his torso before drifting back off to sleep.

11

At that same time, Robbie was meeting Ginny and Barry at the Waffle House again.

"I'm ready to sign," he smiled as they sat down. "The gang and my daughter have told me to go for it. So, I'm leaving my future in your hands."

"Thank you for having faith in us," said Barry. "You won't regret it."

"No," added Ginny. "I'm taking you under my wing. You are my project!"

"I trust you," Robbie smiled at her. "You, my daughter, my friend and bandmate Sue, and Carla and Jane are the only women in my life I trust. Carla and Jane are the other two wives of the guys in the band. I know you won't let me down."

"I won't," she smiled back. "By the way, how did your meeting with Jeff go?"

"Excellent!" Robbie nodded. "And thank you for covering his bill. I don't know how I'll ever be able to repay you."

"I do," smiled Barry. "Start by signing these papers after we eat. Then we're going to start creating music."

12

Monday at nine am, Robbie was at the First National Bank opening a checking and savings account in his name only with his daughter as beneficiary. With printed account statements, he transferred exactly half of he and Amy's money from their joint accounts into his personal ones.

Monday at eleven sharp, Robbie Foster sat in his attorney's office signing the paperwork to officially end his marriage of almost twenty years.

"Done," said Jeff, as he reviewed the paperwork. "I'll have her served this afternoon. It may get ugly from this point. Are you up for a potential war?"

"I am," Robbie nodded solemnly. "A hell of a weekend. And now, potential war. What a life!"

"I like your attitude," Jeff smiled at him. "Now, a couple of items. Did you get the banking done?"

"Yes." Robbie handed him copies of the statements.

"Excellent. When you get home, call your insurance company and transfer the beneficiary to your daughter - if that's what you want?"

"It is," nodded Robbie, as he wrote it down. "I hadn't thought of that."

"Also, do you have a will?"

"I do. I need to change that, too."

"Go through your other bills, too. Anything joint, either take her off or cancel yourself if possible. The only exception is household bills like power and water. Leave those alone so that you both are responsible for paying until the house is sold. And I'd suggest getting a realtor as soon as possible. Then you might want to get a two or three-bedroom apartment. Somewhere for you and your daughter when she comes home. But with you going to LA, you don't need a house anymore."

"Okay," nodded Robbie, again writing down his homework. "Speaking of going to LA, should I call my boss, Principal Joe Loftin, and resign? Or should I hang on for a while?"

"How long before you need to resign without leaving the school in too much of a bind?"

"Probably mid-July. About six weeks from now. That'll give them time to find a replacement."

"Then let's wait. I want your job to be with the school - not Price Records."

"Agreed!"

13

Amy Foster was straightening her desk when the pretty young lady stopped at the front counter of the offices of Gorman & French and asked for her. As she stepped out to meet the young woman, the woman just asked her if she was Amy Foster? When she affirmed she was Amy Foster, the young woman simply handed her a large envelope and said, "You've been served." She took a quick picture of Amy holding the envelope then turned and walked out of the office.

"That son-of-a-bitch," she muttered to herself. "He beat me to the punch."

She went back to her desk and called Bob, her coworker and a divorce specialist. Twenty minutes later, she was in Bob's office as he reviewed the paperwork.

"This looks pretty straightforward," he said, as he moved from page to page. "Equal split of assets, selling the home and splitting the proceeds. One daughter, in college, so no child support, but each of you splitting her college expenses. No alimony."

He frowned as he read the next section. "Divorce due to spousal affair. With Mr. Henry Carter. Mrs. Foster has vacated the family home and now resides with Mr. Carter."

He looked at Amy. "Is this true? Have you moved in with Henry?"

Amy nodded as she looked down at her folded hands resting on her lap. "I have. We have fallen in love. I left Robbie. I planned on seeing you today to get the ball rolling for a divorce. I didn't think Robbie would beat me to the punch. This just happened last Friday."

"Wow," muttered Bob. "Well, Jeff Parker is no slouch in this business. If your husband hired him and you were served this morning, then he has paid him a pretty penny. Have you checked your bank account since you left Friday?"

"No, I didn't think of that," Amy said.

"I'm guessing that exactly half will be missing. Probably down to the penny. Jeff is very precise that way. Also, your investment accounts. You've got a retirement account here with us, don't you?"

Amy nodded. "I do."

"Good. They won't touch that. But they'll also stop you from touching his accounts." He looked over the rest of the papers. "So, about Henry - Georgia doesn't recognize affairs as a punishable offense, but it does look like they are going for a fault-based divorce. That means you and Henry will always be the reason for the marriage dissolution."

"That really makes my blood boil," she muttered. "But I guess it is the truth. Can we fight it?"

"We can," said Bob. "But I don't recommend it. Because, as you just said, it is the truth. There's really nothing to fight."

"Okay," she sighed. "Anything else?"

"Yeah, a couple of things." He leaned back in his chair and looked directly at her, as he steepled his fingers. "Georgia has a thirty-day cooling off period. So, nothing will happen till this time next month. So, if you or Robbie have a change of heart, this will all go away."

"I don't foresee that happening," she smiled.

"I didn't think so," he nodded, as he leaned forward. "Now, how well do you know Henry?"

"I met him here," she said as she readjusted herself in her seat. "He was meeting Mr. French. We hit it off, he invited me to lunch, and we shared our histories. We started seeing each other regularly after that."

"Normally, we take a dim view of staff and clients getting together, Amy," Bob chastised her. "But it looks like your husband is not including us in any way according to these papers, so I'm going to let it slide. However, let me tell you a little bit about Mr. Henry Carter."

She nodded to him to continue.

He again leaned back in his chair. "His wife Mae died of a heart attack a little over three and a half years ago. Six months before she died, she sat in the same chair you're sitting on planning her divorce. It seems that Henry likes the ladies and he had several affairs. She had finally reached the end of her rope with him and decided to just end it. Before we got the paperwork done, she had visited her doctor, and he gave her the news that she had heart disease of some sort. So, she decided to stop the divorce. She didn't want him to get any of her money in alimony. She simply had us rewrite her will."

"Really?" asked Amy, now very interested.

Bob nodded. "Yeah. And she was the rich one. I know Henry owns a few of the Fatsy Patsy restaurants and some other real estate, but I also know he didn't get much from her estate. So, he may not be as rich as he looks."

"But I'm in love with him," said Amy, emphatically. "I know he'll treat me right."

"For your sake, I hope so," said Bob. "But don't sign anything he puts in front of you. Make sure you show it to me first. No prenup, no mortgage, no nothing. Understand?"

"I do." She looked down at her hands. "Thank you."

"Okay, I guess that's it. You might as well sign these papers. Your twenty-year marriage is officially done."

14

"Robbie, it looks like it's already over." Jeff Parker was on the phone with Robbie.

"Really? This soon?"

"Yeah," Jeff replied. "Bob Harris is her acting attorney. He works in her firm, but this is a small brotherhood and he's one of the good guys. I'm guessing she admitted to moving out, so he knows they don't have a leg to stand on."

"So, what now?"

"It'll take the court about ninety days to finalize. In the meantime, you've got to sell the house. Those proceeds we'll split with them after all the mortgage, taxes, and real estate broker fees are subtracted. So, get it up for sale ASAP. Then get an apartment or condo or something. I'll reach out to Bob and ask if there is anything in the house that she wants. Is there anything you won't budge on?"

"Not really. I'm taking the computer, the files, my books, music, and guitars. I could care less about the furniture. But if she's moved into a Buckhead estate, I'm sure our simple furniture won't cut it for her. Maybe I should just auction it all."

"That's not a bad idea," said Jeff. "I'll float that offer to them. Again, you'll split the proceeds. Also, since she has now signed, you have my permission to resign from your job. But make sure they don't contact Amy in any way."

"My next call is to my boss, Joe Loftin, to resign. Thanks again, Jeff! You've been a lifesaver. Oh, I just remembered, do I need to keep the wrapped up sheets from the scene of the crime?"

"No," Jeff laughed. "Trash them or use for fire kindling."

"Love it! That's a great idea!"

15

The next thirty days were busy ones for Robbie. Lizzie came home to help him find a new apartment and move in. He rented a nice 3-bedroom place with one bedroom for himself, one for Lizzie or guests, and the third for an office or practice room.

They moved several items from Lizzie's old room and a few pieces of furniture that Robbie wanted. They offered the rest to Amy, but she had no need for anything other than her personal clothes, jewelry and a few trinkets.

The rest was auctioned and the house sold quickly. After expenses, each made a tidy profit. The shared life of Amy and Robbie Foster was over. Lizzie was now the only common bond between the two.

Robbie met with Joe Loftin soon after and explained the entire situation about the divorce and his desire to start a new life. He went into detail about his potential move to Los Angeles to pursue a professional singing and guitar playing career. He also asked that Amy not be contacted. Joe was sorry to see such a valued and talented teacher go, but he understood and wished him well. He also reminded Robbie that the door was open anytime to return and that the students would love to see one of his performances. Robbie promised that it would happen.

After one tear-filled goodbye with Lizzie as he dropped her off at school, and another tear-filled goodbye with his bandmates, Robbie locked his apartment and caught a plane for Los Angeles and a new life.

16

Eddie Caldwell readjusted the slides on his master board while the musicians on the other side of the glass were warming up and tuning their instruments. His boss, Jerry Grayson, was pacing back and forth behind Eddie. This was going to be the first time they were going to hear Barry's new talent, Robbie Foster. Jerry had recruited some of his top session musicians to back Robbie. For the last two weeks, they had been practicing fifteen different songs that Robbie had written.

"Okay, boys," said Jerry, leaning over Eddie and talking into the microphone to Robbie and the guys. "Are we ready?"

"Yeah," Robbie nodded, as he took a deep breath. He had perched himself on a barstool, holding his Gibson resting on his right leg. He glanced at the other members of his new group. They all nodded back at him.

With a go signal from Eddie, Robbie hit his first chord as the band slowly joined in playing 'Baby's Theme'. Robbie had given some thought to the song that he had improvised that night at The Starlight and now had written the entire score for each instrument. It was a much tighter version.

His new group was made up of fantastic musicians. Each had a long resume working with some of the top entertainers of the past decade. Their talent reminded him of his days with the Boston Pops. He had to pinch himself that only recently he was directing high school band. Even his Stormer pals weren't at this level. And they were following him!

When the track ended, he asked to do it again. One of the words came out wrong. The second track was better.

"Play it back for me, Eddie," he said, leaning into his microphone.

"No problem," said Eddie.

Robbie was shaking his head as he listened. "No."

Eddie stopped the playback. "What's wrong?"

"Me," stated Robbie. "Turn down my guitar a notch. And turn up Steve, Harry, and Mark."

"Are you sure?" asked Eddie.

"Yeah."

Jerry leaned forward and watched as Eddie redubbed the instruments, before playing it again. With the lead guitar a little quieter, and the rhythm guitar, the bass, and the piano a little louder, the entire piece sounded even better.

"Wow," muttered Eddie to Jerry. "This guy's amazing. And he has no ego. I don't know where Barry found him, but I'm impressed."

I agree." Jerry was smiling and nodding his approval through the glass to Robbie.

But Robbie was still shaking his head. "Not quite right. Do me a favor, Eddie. Bring up only my guitar mike."

Robbie put on headphones and set his Gibson down and picked up his acoustic. He put on his thumb pick. Again, he nodded to Eddie to start. In the bridge and chorus sections, he started picking some blues and different flamingo riffs sliding into simple chords to end with the other guitars.

"Okay, play it back," said Robbie, pulling off the headphones.

They were all speechless when it ended. All the band members just smiled at each other.

"That was fantastic!" yelled Jerry, as he stormed into the studio. "You guys are great! Robbie, I think you've got a hit there! A big hit!"

"Thank you, sir," said Robbie. Then he turned to his bandmates. "And thank you, guys."

"Okay," said a smiling Jerry as he straightened up. "Back to business. You've only got fourteen more to go."

"Yes, boss!" said Mark, as he twanged his bass. Everyone else laughed.

It took two full weeks in the studio, but the band got the fifteen tracks laid down. They were all quite proud of their work. Eddie and Jerry were going to work on editing and cleaning up background noise. Then it would be up to the public to vote on whether that pride was justified.

17

Twenty-five thousand people stood and cheered at the top of their lungs for their superstar heroine, Maleena Skye, as she stepped on stage in Dallas. The beautiful thirty-eight-year-old brunette started singing one of her twelve number one hits as the audience went wild. And for the next two and a half hours, she belted out one great song after another. She owned that stage.

The band was in top form. And she travelled with a big band. There were two of almost everything. She had two drummers with full trap sets, two lead guitar players, two rhythm guitars, two piano players, two bass players and six backup singers. And a horn section. They would double up on different songs, or step back and let the other group back her up on a few of the songs. With the light show and the pyrotechnics, the fans got their money's worth. This was a show that would be remembered for a long time. And this was only one show out of twenty-two they were doing around the country. But it was number twenty. Just two more and this tour would end with them back in Los Angeles.

Maleena came out for two encores. With the last one, she sang a quiet ballad that calmed the audience down enough for a quiet goodnight. This was her usual way of ending an otherwise raucous show.

At that point, she was escorted to her trailer with her bodyguard, Jose, by her side. As it was dark and they were behind the stage, they quickly and quietly made good time to the trailer. Jose opened the door for her but stayed outside. Maleena's assistant, Lea, was waiting for her.

"You sounded good," Lea said.

"Yeah, it was a good crowd," said Maleena, as she collapsed on the sofa. Lea moved to a chair in front of her and had Maleena raise each leg so she could help pull her heels off. Lea then took a moment to massage each foot.

Maleena smiled. "That feels terrific. I definitely need that!"

"The only news is that your sister called," Lea offered.

"Did she say what she wanted?"

"No. Just that she'd like you to call when you get a minute. She said there wasn't any emergency."

"Okay," said Maleena. "What time is it?"

"A little after eleven here," said Lea.

"That makes it just after nine in LA. Where's my phone?"

Lea reached over to the counter and retrieved the phone. "Want some privacy?"

"Yeah," Maleena was opening the phone. "Lea, why don't you call it a night. Since we're leaving bright and early tomorrow, go get some rest. I'll see you in the morning."

"Okay," Lea stood up and moved to the door. "Good night."

Maleena hit the number for her sister. "Hey, big sis!"

"Mel! I'm so glad you called! But you didn't have to call tonight! Didn't you just get off the stage?"

"Yeah, and I'm tired, so let's make this short. But I love talking to my sister."

"Well, how was the show?"

"Good. Some minor screw ups. Mervyn again missed several intros. I'm sad for him but it is kind of frustrating. He needs time to grieve when we get home before he gets his head back in the game. But a good guitarist is hard to find."

There was snickering on the other end of the phone.

"What's so funny?" asked Maleena. "Ginny, is this an inside joke?"

"No!" said Ginny. "It's just the reason for my call. Barry and I found a super talent that doesn't realize how good he really is. And he's a double threat. Not only can he sing and play a mean guitar, but he also writes phenomenal songs. I'm going to send one to you now. It's called 'Baby's Theme' and I think you'll like it."

"Okay, I'll give it a listen. But no promises."

Ginny laughed again. "Oh, I know that. But I also know he's handsome and available since his wife walked out on him."

"You know I've given up men! Especially since my last fiasco!"

"And he's sworn off women! So, I think you guys are perfect for each other. I'd chase him myself except I'm already married." Ginny was laughing.

"Well, maybe you should chase him and allow me to steal Barry!" Maleena was also laughing.

"Careful what you wish for, little sis!"

"Right back at you, big sis!" Maleena was still snickering. "Okay, I'll listen to your new super guy. What's his name?"

"Robbie Foster. He was playing with a group down in Atlanta when we found him. His day job was as a band director for one of the high schools. But he went to Juilliard and did a summer with the Boston Pops. So, he's got a resume.

"I also sent you a picture. I've taken him on as a project since his wife walked out on him the very same afternoon that we met him. He is still broken. But we helped facilitate the divorce."

"God, that's awful!" cried Maleena. "That afternoon?"

"Yeah, I guess she called him a loser and left to move in with her lover. He had the gig that night and his bandmates talked him into playing through the pain. And play he did! He's impressive."

"You do have it bad, don't you?" laughed Maleena.

"Yeah, I do," said Ginny. "But in a sisterly way. I want him to see that life is worth living. And I have this beautiful sister that allows me to really act in a sisterly way!"

"Alright, big sis," said Maleena. "I've really got to get a little rest. I'll listen to your guy and call you tomorrow. Love you!"

"Love you, little sis! Later!"

Maleena shook her head and opened her email on her laptop and clicked play.

As the opening notes of 'Baby's Theme' started coming through her speakers, she clicked on his picture that Ginny also sent. She quietly leaned back in her chair as she listened to the words and music while staring at the picture of Robbie in front of her. It was like his eyes were boring right through her. As the song ended, she realized she had tears running down her face. That was one of the greatest songs she had ever heard. It was so moving, so sad, yet so full of love.

She pulled her phone out and texted Ginny. "Damn you, big sis! That was awesome! And he is a catch! I'm crying!!!!"

Ginny sent a smiley face emoji. "I'll introduce you. You won't be disappointed. I love being a matchmaker! Now, go to bed! Love you."

Maleena did crawl into bed, but not before playing 'Baby's Theme' again. This was a powerful and moving song. It'd been a long time since a song had that kind of effect on her. She closed her eyes humming, crying, dreaming of a new man and wondering 'What If'?

Part 2 (final) coming tomorrow.