My family history is a bit complex.
My father got a girl pregnant when they were both in college. They got married, and soon after, their daughter Jayne was born.
I don't know much about dad's first marriage, only that he had an affair with another woman when Jayne was about ten. This girl became pregnant, too. The result of that pregnancy was - me.
When dad's first wife found out about this other woman, she packed her bags and left. She didn't take Jayne with her. It seems that they were never close. I gather that Jayne's mother wasn't happy married to my father, and she blamed Jayne for her having to get married.
Jayne wasn't very happy living with us. She blamed my mother for causing her parents to break up, which, I suppose, she did. But Jayne and I were always best friends.
As soon as she was old enough, about seventeen I think, Jayne left home. Of course the inevitable happened and she soon became pregnant. But Jayne decided not to get married, and to raise her daughter Tara by herself.
I didn't see much of Jayne or Tara for the next few years, but once I became old enough to travel by myself, I visited them as often as I could. Tara was about eight by then, and I used to spoil her. They both always seemed happy to see me.
After I graduated from college I took a job in the same city where Jayne and Tara lived, and I visited them often. Tara had by then grown into a beautiful young woman. And she was talented. During her last year at high school, along with several of her friends, she had formed a band.
One day I had a phone call from Tara. She was bubbling over with excitement. "Uncle James!" she gushed. "Our band is going to play in a concert next Friday. I'm so excited! Will you come?"
Of course I told her that I would.
I had arranged to pick up Jayne and Tara and drive them to the concert. But that morning I had a frantic call from Jayne. Her mother had suddenly taken ill. I tried to calm her down a little. I told her to go to see her mother. I would take Tara to the concert and look after her.
That evening, Tara was disappointed that her mother was going to miss the concert, but she soon cheered up at the excitement of performing in public for the first time.
At the concert, I went backstage with her to help her find the dressing room. It was a large room, filled with women in various states of undress. But none of them seemed to pay any attention to me, or to the several other men who were in there. I was introduced to the other girls in Tara's band, and then I left them to get ready as I found my seat in the audience.
