Miss O'Dell by Chris O'Dell & Katherine Ketcham

Author:Chris O'Dell & Katherine Ketcham
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: EDU040000
Publisher: Touchstone
Published: 2009-04-29T04:00:00+00:00

“C’mon, Chris, let’s go over to Keith’s.”

Mick and I were sitting on the floor of the wood-paneled study of the grand old Bel Air mansion I had rented for him. Bianca was out for dinner with friends, and their infant daughter, Jade, and her nanny, Sally, were upstairs in the nursery. The study was filled with deep-cushioned furniture and floor-to-ceiling bookcases. Heavy gold curtains lined the windows. Despite its elegance, though, the room had a musty, heavy, even slightly depressing feel.

I yawned and stretched. I was exhausted. I’d been working all day on the song lyrics for the Stones album Exile on Main street, and now the typed sheets were spread out in front of us on the floor as we listened to the acetates and checked them for accuracy. Mick had a pen in hand and was correcting the words I had typed in preparation to send them to the record company for the final go-through on the album. For the past week or so, it seemed that all I did was sit in front of the stereo, straining to decipher the lyrics—Mick’s words weren’t always easy to understand—writing them down and playing the same song over and over again to make sure I got it right. Then I’d type them, double and triple checking the finished version as Mick looked over my shoulder.

I looked at my watch—it was almost 10:00 p.m.—then gathered up the sheets of paper and grabbed my purse. I wasn’t all that excited to go to Keith and Anita’s place because I found it dark and depressing. I often stopped by there to do errands for Keith—deliver laundry from the dry cleaner, pick up a check to be cashed, get his signature on a legal document—but I rarely stayed for long. I wasn’t crazy about the hard-drug crowd that was always hanging around, and I wasn’t comfortable with Anita, who had a way of dismissing people with a flick of her hand and a few well-chosen words delivered in her heavy German-Italian accent. I didn’t take her bad manners or drugged-out behavior personally because I felt absolutely no connection to her. She was a man’s woman, not a woman’s woman like Pattie, and we pretty much ignored each other.

I liked Keith a lot. He had such a gentle way about him, and he was always kind to me and quick to express his gratitude for any little errand I would run for him. I worked for both Keith and Mick, but unlike Mick, Keith didn’t need much. He’d sign a bunch of blank checks, hand them over to me, and when he needed something—cigarettes, magazines, or cash for drugs—he’d call me. “Hey, Chris, would you have time to stop by the bank today?” he’d ask. I’d fill out the check for however much he needed and bring him the cash, the cigarettes, or the magazines.

“Thanks, Chris,” he’d always say with a smile and a little nod of gratitude. “Wanna hang out for a while?”

“Not today,

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