The service was beautiful. I flew my wife, Jessica, home to be buried on her family's farm.
Jessie's mother and her sister, Marilyn kept staring at Cherry. Marilyn pulled me aside to ask me about her. "Who is she?" Marilyn asked.
"Cherry is Mike, my bass player's ex-wife. She and Jessica were...very close. Cherry took her to the ER when she fell. When Jessie got sick, she was there every day. She took care of Jessie and me these last few weeks." Cherry must have sensed we were talking about her. She turned and smiled. Even in mourning, she looked beautiful. Her blonde hair and southern California girl look was too much to hide even draped in black.
"She's so..." Marilyn started to say. "How did Mike..."
"They met when we were recording some tracks in L. A. She delivered for the deli down the street. Eventually, he built up the nerve..."
Marilyn scoffed. "No. That's not what I meant."
"What did you mean?"
"How did Mike ever score a piece like that?" I almost spit out my drink. Marilyn chuckled and said, "You gotta admit Mike's not the best-looking guy and she is...hell, she's so hot I'd do her."
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