Fiction: Taking Notes

Sy Retton made a leisurely lap of the New Year’s Eve party in his suburban Los Angeles home. The bartenders at all four stations were busy. All the right people had showed up – radio people, movie people, TV people, other music people – and were mingling nicely.

The fireplace was crackling along both for atmosphere and warmth as the evening started to get a little nippy. But Sy smiled, thinking about the frigid Wisconsin winters he grew up with. He had left the snow and the cold behind him, along with his birth name of Sylvester Rothahn and the slate of increasingly serious misdemeanors attached to that name. But hey! More than half the people in the room had pasts, many of them even more unglamorous and ill-spent than his.

Sy had found his new life writing music and had worked his way to the top of his profession. Movie producers, record producers, bandleaders – they all called him when they needed something new and special. He had always delivered, and that was why they were gathered in his beautiful home to ring in 1962.

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Fiction: Auld Acquaintance

“The Thurlow family New Year’s Eve party is certainly at full boil,” Will said to his little sister.”When is any Thurlow family party not at full boil?” Laura asked.”Want to escape for a while?”

“Of course.”

“I’ll go out first. Meet me at my Toyota in five minutes. Don’t grab your coat; it’ll be too obvious. I’ll turn on the heater.”

There had not been the slightest chance anyone in the rented Knights of Columbus hall had overheard them. The hall was filled with Thurlows and their children and those who married into the Thurlow clan and their children and those who were good friends of the family and their children. Will and Laura’s mother, Catherine, and their older sister, Ingrid, had spent hours directing the decorating of the hall.

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