A Second Cup of Coffee
Originally posted on January 24, 2010
Radley: Good morning, Jacie.
Jacie: Oh, hello, Radley. How are you today?
Radley: I’m quite well, thank you….. However, I find myself wanting your perspective on something. Coffee today?
Jacie: Oh dear - I can’t, not today. I’m waiting on a delivery. They said it would probably be early afternoon, but I don’t dare leave the house in case they come early.
Radley: I see. Another time, perhaps.
Jacie: I’ll tell you what – I make a decent cup of coffee, even if it isn’t fancy and expensive. Would you feel comfortable coming here for your morning cup?
Radley: If you’re sure I would not be imposing.
Jacie: Yes, of course. I mean…. yes I am sure you’re not imposing.
Radley: Very good. Give me directions to find you, and I will try to time my arrival for the usual hour.
Jacie: Come in, Radley. Coffee’s just about finished brewing. Oh and…. please pardon the mess. Things are jumbled around in here, waiting for my new washer.
Radley: Your home is charming, Jacie. It looks comfortable and inviting.
Jacie: Thank you for sayin’ that. I’ve never been much of a homebody, but these last two years I’ve had plenty of time for putterin’ around the house.
Radley: Do you work outside of your home?
Jacie: No right now, but I will have to, and sooner than I wanted. Last month I had to replace the refrigerator; this time it’s the washing machine. A few months before that, it was our truck. No matter how careful I am with my savings, a run of bad luck with a few ornery machines is all it takes to…. Oh, listen to me – I’m sorry to be bendin’ your ear with my household doin’s.
Radley: What kind of work will you do? Will you re-assemble your musical group and tour again?
Jacie: No…. I won’t be doin’ that. I can’t, you see. When Daddy died and I lost my voice, the band split up and went every which way. We’d have to start all over again, Ben and I - not that I’d be much help anymore.
Radley: What happened? How did you lose your singing voice?
Jacie: Shortly after my father passed, I started havin’ trouble, and one mornin’ I woke up and…. my voice was just gone - I couldn’t sing; couldn’t even talk. I had surgery to correct the problem, but after almost two years of treatment and constant therapy, I still can’t sing. The doctor doesn’t even try to make predictions anymore – and I got tired of his “wait and see” a long time ago.
Radley: Have you had a second opinion?
Jacie: I…no, I suppose I should…. but the plain and simple truth is…. I’m a coward. What if I’m told it’s all over – that I’ll never sing again? What if I have to resign myself to promoting festivals, watching other performers do what I so dearly want to do? I don’t know if I could stand it.
Radley: You would cope – there’s not a doubt in my mind. Think about it, Jacie. The prognosis may be the last thing you want to hear, but at least you would know, and be able to move on from there. On the other hand, you might also get some real answers; answers that could help you regain your voice and your livelihood.
Jacie: I’ll do some thinkin’ on it it. Thanks… for helpin’ me look at it in another way.
Radley: I imagine I’ve only verbalized what you’ve known all along.
Jacie: You said you had something to ask me about?
Radley: Yes, that’s right. I wonder, would you mind very much looking over something I am working on? The setting is rural, much like this area, and something about it refuses to ring true.
Jacie: Of course I don’t mind. Do you want me to read it now, or keep it for when you’ve gone?
Radley: Now would be perfect. If you have the time, that is.
Jacie: What would you like to do then, while I read?
Radley: I have my thoughts to occupy me, and will be able to concentrate on enjoying my coffee. Which is excellent, by the way. Thank you.
Jacie: You’re very welcome.
Jacie: Hmm….I have an idea. Hold on a sec. *Jacie goes to the stereo and inserts a CD*
Jacie: Something for you to listen to, while I am busy with your manuscript.
Jacie reads while Radley listens to the recording. When it finishes playing, she puts down the manuscript with a deep sigh
Radley: I recognize the Bluegrass influence by the instrumentation. Was it your group?
Jacie: Yes. Our one professional recording. Although we never finished it… we didn’t get the chance.
Radley: So that must be your voice on most of the tracks?
Jacie: Yes.
Radley: I am honored that you would share this with me, Jacie. Does it bother you to listen to it?
Jacie: Sometimes. I don’t play it often – mostly Ben is the one who does. That’s him on the guitar. He misses playing with the band something fierce, but he says he won’t go back on the road until we can go together.
Radley: He’s very accomplished. As is his mother.
Jacie: *sighs* I may have been…. once.
Radley: *gently* It would be a shame if your audience was deprived of enjoying your beautiful voice forever. Especially if something could be done to restore it.
Jacie: I know… I really should get that second opinion, but… it might be a little…. complicated.
Radley: I understand - I won’t bring it up again…
Radley: *pauses, listening* Sounds like your delivery may have arrived.
Radley: I should be on my way.
Jacie: Wait! I mean, here…. *hands him his manuscript* We didn’t have a chance to talk about this…
Radley: It will wait for another time. Keep it until then, if you’d like.
Jacie: All right…. Radley…..
Radley: Yes?
Jacie: About that other time….I have to be in town next Monday. I could…. I could make a side trip to the coffee shop…although I might be a little later….
Jacie: …if that’s all right with you.
Radley: It is most definitely all right. I shall be looking forward to it.
