*Let me know in the comments if you would like me to continue this story
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"Thank YOU!" the text message read. There were a bunch of hearts and pointing finger emoji below it.
I laughed. I had never met the guy, but judging from the messages he sent, he seemed like a character.
A few hours later, I pulled up to a very large house about an hour out of town and rang the bell, thinking how out of place my beat up corolla looked out front. Everything was immaculate. The lawns were manicured, there were flower beds, and I even saw a man in a large straw hat working outside in the distance. I was definitely impressed.
"You must be Rachael." was the first thing he said to me when he came to the door. "I'm Jay." I shook his hand. It was warm and masculine. He obviously worked out, and had been blessed genetically with wavy dark hair and green eyes. He was wearing loose fitting clothes that reminded me of something a yogi or spiritual guru would wear.
"Thanks so much for letting me come by." I said.
"No, no! We really appreciate your willingness to play." His southern drawl was almost comical. "You're the 5th person we asked."
It struck me as odd. The pay for the gig was more than decent. Considering the going rate for a Sunday church service was about 150-200 dollars, he was paying 10 times that. It was kind of vague what the gig was, and my friend who recommended me hinted the job was out of the ordinary, but considering I would have to teach a lot of hours of piano lessons to get that kind of money, I was happy for the opportunity. Add that to the fact that it was summer and all my piano students were out of town, I could use the extra income.
He led me into the house, and I was taken aback by how spacious and well decorated it was. There were expensive looking paintings on the wall, and the couches and chairs looked extremely comfortable. Everything was light in shades of white and beige and the pictures on the walls seemed to depict the heavens. There were even candelabras painted white, and there was an airiness that I was convinced only money could create. It was a far cry from the bargain basements I shopped at as a professional musician.
"Wow, this is a really nice place." I told him, feeling self conscious. I thought I was just coming in to pick up music for the gig. My hair was tied in a ponytail and I was wearing yoga pants and an oversized t-shirt.
"Thank ya!" he said. Once again, I wondered where that accent came from. We were in Virginia, but it was rare to hear someone speak like he did with an over the top accent. "Let me show you the piano."
He took me though the house to a sunken music room, and I saw a 7 foot concert grand. I sat down feeling certain it was more of a show piece than anything and would be out of tune, but after playing a few notes I realized it sounded great. It had a stiffer action than my piano at home, but overall it was a good instrument.
"Do you play?" I asked, thinking somebody in the house must since the piano was in good working order.
"Naw." he said. "I play a little guitar, but that's about it."
I wondered if he was some kind of country music star I had missed. He was certainly attractive enough to be. That accent had to be put on though. No way did anybody actually talk like that. He reminded me of a televangelist from the 80's. The kind that got all worked up and demanded you put your hand on the screen to feel the holy spirit.
"So, what kind of music do you want for this...event?" I asked.
"Do you do chords or are you a note reader?"
I almost laughed. I was classically trained at a top conservatory. "I can do whatever" I said,.
"Well, let me tell you. The music is pretty easy. It's not too hard at all and you can do whatever you want with it." he said, and handed me a stack of sheet music. Love songs mostly.
"Ok?" I said with a question in my voice. The music looked straight forward. I'd have to play through it, but it seemed mostly sight-readable. Still, I was confused as to why 4 other people had said no to playing. I was glad they had though. Considering the pay, I'd expected him to hand me Rachmaninov concertos or difficult Chopin pieces. Not three chord melodies that any half competent piano player could handle. They didn't need a seasoned performer to do it.
"Well, there is one other thing." he said, and for the first time, he sounded subdued and I detected a note of desperation in his voice. Like he was afraid I was going to run out screaming. "Did Evelyn talk to you about it?" He asked, clearly hoping I'd say she had. "Well, It's not a huge thing, but it might be a bit...different for you."
"Well, she said something about it being an odd gig." I said, "But it seems straightforward to me." I said, totally confused..
He laughed shortly, "Odd. That's a good way to describe it." he said and hesitated.
I gave him a look urging him to explain.