Kip shrugged and put his arm around Annie, leading her to the door. “Okay, then.”
Jack spun around, “Hold on! Hold on! I was kidding. This really is big news. You’re going to want to hear this.”
“Alright then Jacky, let’s hear it. Like I said, we really are leaving. So spit it out.”
“Kip, I just took a message for you from Lydell,” Jack said.
Kip looked at Annie and explained who Lydell was. “Our manager. He’s in California.” Annie nodded.
“The USO has asked us to do a concert in Afghanistan for the troops that are still there,” Jack continued.
Kip was taken aback. Back to the suckiness, he thought. He didn’t smile or react in any way. His face remained like stone. He was thinking.
“Cool, huh?” Jack said, smiling, trying to gauge Kip’s lack of reaction. “I mean, I know how patriotic you are. I knew you’d love the idea.”
Finally Kip’s mind came back into the room with the others. “What did you tell Lydell?”
“Well, it’s your band, Kip. I told him I would have to run it by you. But I did say that I thought you’d be onboard.”
Kip looked down at his feet, then over to Annie. “You ready to go?” he said.
Annie nodded but looked concerned. She wondered why Kip was not as happy about the prospect as she would have thought. Or as Jack would have thought. Again, there was a lot going on inside Kip that almost no one was privy to. She wished she had her notebook right now.
Kip took Annie’s hand and they headed for the door.
“Kip?” Jack said.
Kip turned his head over his shoulder back toward Jack. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.”
“But Kip, we’re kind of on a tight time frame here. If we agree, we have to leave by the weekend.”
Kip stopped and turned to him. He scratched his head. Bombs were going off inside there. What a strange dilemma he was just put into. He wanted to honor the troops. He was always telling the band and his fans to honor them. But to return to Afghanistan was something he had never considered doing. He left so much of himself back there and he had never intended to return to retrieve it. He woke up in bed sometimes even still screaming in pain at the torture he was subjected to. And that was in the relative safety of America. He wasn’t sure of returning to Afghanistan would be conducive to his mental health. He looked at Jack.
“Stage? Hardware?” He asked.
Jack nodded. “All arranged already by Lydell,” he said. Kip scratched his head again. Annie was watching him with intense curiosity, but had resigned herself to not ask any questions just yet while Kip struggled with whatever battle was obviously playing out inside his head.
“All we have to do is say the word, Kip,” Jack added.
“Lock and Stabbs?” Kip asked again.
“They are more excited about it than I am,” Jack said. “Lock just called one of the Becky’s over to celebrate.”
Kip nodded. “Call Lydell. Give the go ahead,” he said.
Jack smiled big teeth. “I think he’d like to hear from you, Kip.”
Kip looked at Annie and took her hand again. “I’m busy. If he wants me to, tell him I’ll call him tomorrow.”
“Okay Kip.” Jack said as Kip and Annie pulled the door open and headed to the hall. “Uh, you two have a nice night now. And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“Jacky, Satan himself would puke at the thought of doing half the shit you have done!” Kip yelled back into the room before he pulled the door closed behind him.
Cimiani’s was an Italian restaurant known for its great food, but even better known for its great views. Kip sat with his back to the curved glass so that Annie would have the window view as the restaurant rotated around the rooftop. Manhattan slowly rolled by behind kip. The lights of the city glowed with life until they disappeared to the left and the darkness of the harbor filled the window. Occasionally small flashes of activity would twinkle on the surface of the water below, betraying presence of ships and barges carrying people and cargo from one shore to another.
The curvy waitress had just brought their meals and Kip was cutting into his steak while it still sizzled on his plate. The beef here was aged 13 weeks and fired over hickory fueled flames. The restaurant was consistently voted the best steakhouse in the city.
Annie cut her steak and stacked the morsel with deep fried mushrooms. Before she took a bite she eyed Kip. “You’d think a place like this would require reservations,” she said.
Kip paused with his fork just inches from his mouth. “You’d think, huh?” he said then he shoveled in the bite. Annie held her fork with the steak at her mouth