Then, before anyone can exclaim, I select one of the guitars and place the strap over my shoulder. Fagan pauses his drumming, silencing the hi-hat with his hand, then clicks his sticks together above his head in a four-beat countdown. While my brothers are staring up at me mouthing what the fuck? we launch into our own blasting version of Born to be Wild, me belting out the vocals.
Ignoring everyone else, I focus on my old lady, my wife, seeing the love beam from her eyes. Alicia pulls her mom closer to the stage, gives me two thumbs up and starts moving energetically to the beat.
When I look away, I notice Salem and Pennywise standing with their arms folded, and I know they’re thinking I’ve been holding out on them. Right now, I don’t give a damn. All I’m focused on is doing the favour I promised to do for my wife.
We give Highway to Hell a good shot, then I slow it down, swapping out my Strat for my Les Paul and making that guitar sing as I launch into the haunting MainStreet which I know Mary loves.
The club girls are standing together with linked arms, swaying to the beat. Lost and Patsy are slow dancing in each other’s arms, and, following their lead, Dart and Alex do likewise. Then Dart steps away to allow Tyler to dance with his mom. Alex is short, and while the kid’s only nine, the height difference isn’t very remarked. I don’t miss Dart taking Isla from Eva, and is now dancing with her. From the way her head’s thrown back, the toddler thinks it’s great fun.
I glance behind me, catching Fagan’s eyes—they’re alight and gleaming. He’s enjoying this as much as I am. Kurt plays that bass like a master, and Jon Boy makes the rhythm guitar come alive. Suddenly I realise how much I’ve missed playing to an audience.
Not that I’d parade myself on stage in front of strangers, but this? Well, if the brothers want us back, then I’d be happy to oblige.
It’s only then I wonder whether I’m making a fool of myself, and any seeming enjoyment is pretend. Let the old man have his moment.
Suddenly something lands at my feet. Half expecting a rotten egg, I glance down to see it’s a pair of panties. Looking up, I catch Mary’s mischievous eyes. One’s she’s been wearing?
Not to be outdone, suddenly the sweet butts are reaching under their dresses and skirts and several more pairs fall at my feet.
I grin wide. Guess the old man’s still got it.
Doubling down, I give everything I’ve got, feeling my voice strain, belting out the songs as we go down our playlist. When I’m almost at the end, I step up to the microphone.
“Folks, only a few more songs to go.” I pause to allow the welcoming groans and protests sound. “As today is my wedding day, I’m going to play a song for my wife.”
Another guitar exchange, this one for my acoustic. Somehow someone dims the stage lights so I’m in the spotlight, my band members in shadow. Then I launch into If I Were a Carpenter. When I sing the line, Would you marry me anyway, would you have my baby? my eyes fall on my beautiful wife, and my voice cracks a little as I think for not the first time, how the fuck did I get so lucky at this stage in my life?
Alicia puts her arms around her mom whose eyes are glistening.
Then I signal to Connor who seems to have taken over the lighting tonight. He illuminates the whole stage as we launch into Born to Run, my voice augmented by everyone in the clubhouse. When the final chord rings out, I start to take off my guitar.
“More! More! More!”
Voices are chanting, boots are stomping, and Fagan starts to play a beat I recognise instantly. Again, we get the whole club, members, prospects, sweet butts, old ladies and visiting guests singing along to Born in the USA.
When it ends, they continue clamouring, so I move toward Fagan. Jon Boy and Kurt draw close. I whisper to them. They grin widely and nod. It seems a fitting end to play This Life, the theme song from the popular MC series.
“Amen, Brother!”
“Right fuckin’ on!”
As cries of approval ring out, whistles come from mouths and fists are raised in the air, I call out loudly in response, “Ride Satan’s Devils. Satan’s Devils Ride together!”
They pick up the call I’ve started as fists now slam against hearts. The chorus echoes around the walls of the clubhouse, and I feel a wave of emotion. That’s my wife right there, and these are my brothers.
I’m living the life, and will until I die.
I wait for a moment, then replace my guitar on its stand. The bass and rhythm guitars are likewise put away safely, and Fagan puts down his sticks.
A slow hand clap starts, and feet stomp again.
I step back to the microphone. “That’s all for tonight, ladies, Brothers.” I pause for a beat letting the cries for more wash over me. “I need a fuckin’ drink, and then I’m gonna fuck my wife.”
Mary’s hand covers her face, Alicia’s mouth falls open, but then she’s doubled up laughing.
As I descend from the stage, I’m subjected to back slaps which almost have me stumbling. Glancing behind, I’m pleased to see my bandmates are being subjected to similar treatment, though perhaps more lightly.
There’s only one place I’m heading for, my old lady, needing her more than that drink, more than air probably. As soon as I get close enough, I pull her to me.
“You were amazing.” Her shining eyes, her whole expression shows that she’s being truthful.
“Not bad for an
