Page 29 of Together in Harmony
I should start wearing glasses. Just plain glass ones, but that will give me an extra layer of security.
“Babe, you OK?” asks Lennox, “where’d you disappear to?”
I give myself a shake. Pull yourself together, Harmony.
“I’m good,” I tell him.
“Sure?”
I nod, and he smiles. Turning around, Lennox knocks on the trailer door. It’s all very familiar. After Mom died, Dad would sometimes get a wild hair to take us with him on tour. He’d take us, then completely forget about us.
And that left my brother in charge.
I remind myself that my brother will not be in this trailer.
“Come in,” says a female voice. It’s an older woman’s voice. Lennox opens the door.
“After you…”
“You first,” I tell him. He looks confused by my behavior. I don’t blame him, I’m acting pretty weird. He steps inside and I hear, “Darling boy. So glad you are here.”
I take a breath and step inside.
Lennox has in his arms a tall woman with a mass of lacquered hair. She is wearing an amazing rhinestone jumpsuit. They part and turn to me.
“Harmony, this is my dearest friend, Clara Duville. Clara, this is Harmony.”
Clara Duville, the grand dame of folk music, icon of the ages, gives me a broad smile. I return it and try to pull myself together.
“Hi, so pleased to meet you. Your music is incredible.”
She comes forward and kisses me on each cheek. I’m engulfed in a cloud of soapy perfume.
“Darling, no need to gush, I’m just an old broad who sings for her supper.” Her voice has a slight rasp to it, and looking her in the face, I just see kindness.
“Not gushing,” I say. “You are amazing—a legend!”
Clara Duville? I think I love her as much as I loved Dolly Parton. I’ve never met her properly, but she’s been at my dad’s parties a few times, so I'm nervous.
Clara puts her hand in mine and then directs our clasped hands towards Lennox. “I hope my Lennox is treating you right,” she says. “You come to me if he’s not being gentlemanly.”
The image of Lennox’s tattooed, nail-polished fingers doing very ungentlemanly things enters my head.
I’m blushing.
Clara smiles. “Hmm, a little innocent?” she says to Lennox. “That is unlike you—you’d better be good to her.” I glance at Lennox. He is smiling broadly.
“Clara, this girl has no idea how good I’m going to treat her.” He steps towards me and runs his hands through my hair, pulling it back from my face. “Look at her Clara, I think I’m in love.” He laughs again, but his casual words make my stomach flip. It’s just nerves, I’m sure.
Lennox then moves away to a counter. It is stocked with all kinds of alcohol. And also a tea kettle and various teabags.
“Still no vodka?” he asks.
The trailer door opens again. No knock. An elderly man, all fake tan and fake white teeth enters. “I’ve got gin, if that will tickle your fancy?” he says.
“Hello, darling.” Clara goes over and pushes her cheek against his.
“Lenny, do you remember Teddy? Teddy Jones, Lennox Pittock.”
