excerpt from Chapter 18: "Like a Rolling Stone"

Mick’s voice shook me from my musings, “What would you like to hear?”

Surprised he noticed me, I hesitated a moment before answering, “How about ‘Waiting on a Friend?’”

“That’s a nice change,” he said. “Most people just want to hear ‘Satisfaction.’”

Mick began singing in a soft falsetto to save his voice, and Charlie started beating out a rhythm with his feet and hands. Ronnie added the occasional harmony, and Keith joined in after a quick trip to the bathroom. Mick danced closer and closer to me as he sang, looking into my eyes and inching right up to the brink of embrace before pulling away. My heart skipped the first time it happened, but I soon realized that he wasn’t really singing to me, only performing to an audience of one. They were still on stage, and the impromptu concert was allowing their energy to settle. Except for the cocaine, they reminded me of a bunch of kids hanging out, cracking jokes, and having fun.

On one of his return trips from the bathroom, Keith brought out a joint and handed it to me. I passed it along to Bill, and as he took a long toke I burst out laughing. Half-stoned, Keith slurred out, “What's so funny love?”

“He looks… He looks… He looks like a raccoon.”

The room shifted its attention from me to Bill. His black eye shadow had run during the concert, and he looked exactly like a raccoon smoking a joint. Everyone erupted into hysterics. When we finally regained our breath, Ross popped his head up and chimed in from a sofa in the corner, “You're too much, Donna.”

I turned to look at him, but he had already lowered back down again. He had hunkered in with a bottle of bourbon as soon as we got there. Mick and I looked at each other and he rolled his eyes at me.

I shrugged my shoulders, “Ross is Ross. What else can I say?”

Mick smiled in acknowledgment and then returned his attention to the music, improvising vocals to a new chord progression Ronnie was working on. I nursed my orange cup of Jack Daniels for the rest of the night, and another hour passed, full of songs and laughter.

Radha with her blind cat Omar,
the summer she hung with the Rolling Stones