“That would be extremely boring, Will.”
“Are you telling me that baseball isn’t boring? I used to get bored playing it as a kid.”
Distracted, Tyler looked up to the ceiling. “What’s this song called?”
That bar always played the most recognizable classic rock songs. “It’s ‘Long Cool Woman in a Black Dress.’”
“Oh, man, my dad used to love CCR,” he blabbered.
“This isn’t Creedence Clearwater Revival, bro, it’s the Hollies.”
“You’re full of shit. My dad would play these guys nonstop. Anyway, who else sounds like this?”
“The fuckin’ Hollies do, I’m telling you.” I opened my eyes really big for emphasis.
“You don’t know everything about music, Will. I know you think you do. This is CCR. I’d bet money on it.”
“Okay, fine. If you’re right, which you’re not, I’ll buy everyone in this bar a drink. If I’m right, all you have to do is buy me a drink.”
“Deal,” he said, but before he Googled it on his phone, he stood up and made an announcement. “This genius,” he said, pointing his ginormous index finger at the top of my head, “doesn’t believe this is CCR on the jukebox.”
The eight random people in the bar all shook their heads and said, “What?” and “Of course it’s CCR.”
Tyler continued, “I’m going to Google it and if it’s CCR, then this guy will buy this bar a round.”
The other daytime drinkers-slash-alcoholics all cheered and clapped. I watched as Tyler Googled it. His silly, smug grin was washed from his face in seconds.
He stared at the screen and then under his breath he said, “It’s the goddamn Hollies.” He looked around the bar and yelled, “We lost, people. Sorry. Better luck next time.”
When things settled down, I remembered that I wanted to interrogate him about the pregnancy-test thing. “Do you and Jenny have any news or anything?”
He looked over at me. “No. Why?”
“I was wondering about the baby thing.”
“The baby thing?” He seemed pissed. “Is that how you ask if Jenny’s pregnant?”
“Shit. Sorry, bro. I didn’t mean to be rude. Yeah, I guess I’m asking if Jenny’s pregnant.”
“No, she’s not, but we’re still trying, and I don’t mind that part.” He waggled his brows. “What about you guys? You gonna wait until after you’re married?”
“I don’t know. At first we were like rearing to go, but our jets have cooled. We’re definitely waiting until after we’re married and then some. Dude, it’s hard enough having a puppy, and with the studio launching, we’d be crazy to go there. I want kids for sure, but we’ve got plenty of time.”
“Yeah, man. I hear ya. So you guys are getting married in two weeks. That means we have to do the bachelor party next weekend. I’ve been brainstorming.”
“I don’t need a bachelor party.”
“Hell, yeah, you do, and I have the perfect idea.”
“What?”
“Pub crawl and then lap dances.” He arched his eyebrows and nodded, saying, “Hmm, hmm, whaddya think?”
“I don’t even know what to think. Whatever your plan is, you best run it by Mia. I don’t want to be divorced before I’m married.”
“All right, then it’s set for next Saturday. It will all be planned and I’ll tell Mia almost everything.”
“No nudey bars or strippers,” I said nonchalantly.
“That’s like a rite of passage. What’s happened to you?” Tyler’s long arms started waving around. He normally talked with his hands, but when he was really passionate about something he would get both arms into it. It was creepy.
“I just don’t want to.”
“Liar.”
Standing up from my stool, I threw a five-dollar bill down on the bar. “There. I’ll get mine. Everyone thinks that song is by Creedence Clearwater Revival; don’t sweat it. I gotta bolt.”
I gave Tyler a typical guy shoulder hug and headed out the door. I heard him call back, “I’ll see you at eight on Saturday!”
Before heading up to our loft, I stopped at the studio. Frank was sitting on the lobby couch, talking boisterously on his cell phone. The lobby was a tiny room in the front of the building. There were no windows aside from the two glass double doors. Inside the lobby sat a small couch and two leather captain’s chairs facing an Indian-inspired wooden table that Sheil had given us. There was a small desk in the corner where the receptionist, Maggie, sat. She was always insanely preoccupied with her looks. When I walked in, Frank held a finger up to me. I glanced over at Maggie, who was looking at herself in a compact mirror.
“Mags,” I said in a loud whisper. When she looked up, I jetted my thumb toward Frank and mouthed, “Why is he here?”
She shrugged and then went back to applying a coat of lipgloss. She’s grossly overpaid.
I took a seat next to Frank and waited for him to wrap up the call.
“Saturday, yes, that should work,” he said into the phone before pressing End and slipping it into his pocket. He took his fedora off and placed it on the table. This was a sign that Frank had something important to tell me. He leaned forward and clasped his hands between his knees.
“You really cannot control yourself, can you?” he said calmly.
“What are you talking about?”
“That was Chad’s lawyer. She’s a mean bitch, Will.”
I took a deep breath and shook my head. “He doesn’t have a case.”
“Apparently they’re trying to bring assault charges against you. Chad’s inner ear is damaged from your little tantrum. Singers usually need their hearing intact, Will.”
My heart started racing. “There is no fucking way in hell that I fucked up that kid’s ear.”
“They have an eye witness that said you dragged him around the studio by his ear.”
“Oh my God, this is insane. I barely tugged on it. He’s lying. The kid wanted credit for our songs, and he couldn’t even play ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb.’ Frank, this is bullshit.”
“Live Wire contacted me, wanted some insight, and then gave the lawyer my number, but this is totally out of my league. You better lawyer up. You have a meeting this Saturday, and I think you’ll probably want representation.”
I was stunned. “My bachelor party is Saturday,” I said quietly to myself.
“His lawyer is from Topeka, the town where the kid is from. I guess it’s his great aunt or something. She can only be here Saturday. You better work it out. They’ll be here at ten a.m. to take a statement.” He said the last part as he stood, placing his fedora back on his head.
I was completely quiet and still as a statue as Frank left the building. I glanced back at Maggie.
“You’re screwed,” she said.
“Thank you, master of the obvious.”
Her face scrunched up with pity. “Sorry.”
“It’s five o’clock, Mags, you can go.”
I went around shutting off lights and locking doors. Walking through the sound room, I paused at the piano and thought about Mia writing that song for Chad. Even though Mia rarely wrote lyrics, I would always ask her what the music was about, what she was thinking of when she wrote a piece. She said the song for Chad, which we’d eventually titled Lost N Found, was about the people we encounter in life who just tarry along, never really letting anyone get to know them. It’s those people who don’t understand what loyalty means; they bounce from one set of friends to another, never building strong bonds. They’re like the pieces of paper floating around at the wind’s mercy.
I sat at the bench and began playing it. We had written lyrics and then tweaked them to fit Chad’s vocals and image, but the original was ten times more meaningful. I felt the conflict rise in me again. This is what I wanted, the normalcy of coming to the same place every day, of having a stable job, but whenever we had to give away a piece of ourselves through the songs, I felt like a sellout. I sang the original quietly to mys
elf that night as I played Mia’s beautiful music.
Gravity has got the best of me.
She takes a hold,
won’t let me go.
She rips me into pieces.
Coming home,
I’m left alone with nothing but a box
of mismatched socks
and missing puzzle pieces.
I’m lost but never found.
I’m riding the wind
and coming down
until I’m swept away again.
You’ve said cut ties.
You’ve said count lies.
Break your best intentions and leave no trace.
All the hurt can be erased if you stay with me on the surface.
I’m lost but never found.
I’m riding the wind
and coming down
until I’m swept away again.
That song had way too much depth and meaning for a fuckwit like Chad. I wasn’t at all bummed he wouldn’t get to sing it. I had no idea what would happen with the lawsuit, but I chose that night to keep it to myself and wait until after the wedding to bring it up with Mia.
I shuffled up the stairs to our loft with the weight of the world on my shoulders. As soon as I opened the door, a sweet scent flooded my senses. It smelled like Mia had been baking. The only light on in the apartment was coming from above the stove. It was seven o’clock, but it appeared Mia had already gone to bed. I walked into the kitchen area with June bouncing around at my feet. I picked her up and leaned over the stove. Wrapped in cellophane were three chocolate croissants. Mia had been baking goodies like that most of her life during the summers when she would come to New York and work in her father’s café. She rarely ever made stuff like that at home. I slid one out and devoured it while June tried ineffectively to chomp off a piece. She squirmed around in my arms.
“Why aren’t you in your crate?” I said to her. She looked at me with her big, round puppy-dog eyes. “I’m a sucker, I would have let you out too.”
I headed down the short hallway. We called our apartment a loft because it had one large room with high, gabled ceilings. The walls that separated the bedrooms and bathroom didn’t reach the ceiling, so essentially we lived in a loft with some walls.
Our bedroom was dark but there was enough light coming from the hallway that I could see Mia curled up under the covers. I went to her side. Once I moved out of the doorway, the light shone on her face. She was sound asleep at seven o’clock. I took a quick shower and slid into bed in my boxers. She stirred and opened her eyes just a crack.
“Hi, baby,” she said. “What time is it?”
“It’s seven fifteen.”
“Oh my gosh. I was just gonna take a little nap. I made croissants,” she mumbled, then yawned with her eyes still closed.
“I had one. They’re delicious.”
She scooted toward me, sank down and then nestled into my chest. We wrapped our arms around each other. She was so warm, like a little oven.
“Do you want me to get up and make dinner?”
“No, I had a long day. I just want to lie here with you,” I said.
“I’ve been exhausted too.”
“Is Jenny making you crazy with the wedding planning?”
“Kind of.” She said it in a way that made me think she didn’t want to put Jenny down. Mia was insanely loyal; she never talked shit about people even though we both knew Jenny was driving her mad.
“She’s not pregnant,” I said.
“I know. It sucks.”
“It will happen for them.” A few seconds later, I laughed to myself, thinking about Tyler in the bar earlier that day.
“What are you laughing about?”
“Today Tyler and I got into a debate over who sings a song. He got everyone in the bar involved.”
She rolled over and tucked herself into me so that I was spooning her. “What song?”
“Long Cool Woman in a Black Dress.”
Through a yawn she said, “Oh that’s the Hollies.”
I laughed quietly and then moments later, I felt her go boneless. She was asleep. I nuzzled my face into her hair, inhaling her sweet, clean scent. “God, I love you,” I whispered.
Saturday morning, with Mia cuddled in my arms, I finally asked her, “What was it that made you come around? When did you know you loved me?”
“I knew the day I met you.” She kissed my chest and then laid her head flat again before she started rambling. “I was stupid, Will. It took me a long time to see that. I wish we could take that year back. My father would still be alive and I would just meet you on a flight somewhere. We would meet and decide right then and there to live the rest of our lives together in some paradise, playing music on a beach. You know?”
“I think everything happens for a reason. All those months getting to know you… Even if we weren’t together, it meant a lot to me. I don’t want to take it back and I don’t think you should want to either. I just meant when did it click in your head?”
“When I saw Lauren.”
“Who’s Lauren?”
“This woman I met in the airport, the same day I met you actually.”
Something rang a bell about what Mia was saying, even though we’d never talked about it. “Wait a minute. I met a Lauren in the airport that day too.”
“You’re kidding?” She sat up in bed and turned toward me. “A dark-haired woman, kind of a mess? With two little boys?”
“Yes, that’s her.”
“Crazy coincidence.”
“Totally. She was probably on our flight but we didn’t notice because we were busy.” I smirked.
She laughed. “You make that sound naughty.”
“Well?”
“Well, anyway, after L.A., after you said I ruined you… I ran into her at Tompkins Square Park.”
The mere mention of Mia breaking my heart in L.A. sent a jolt of terror through my body. “And?”
“And she told me about falling in love with her husband. She said something like you can’t know the future for sure; love is having faith in the other person and yourself. It’s trusting yourself to know who is right for you. Something did click after that. I tried to get a hold of you.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I just needed to be sure that you weren’t…” I swallowed.
“What, Wilbur? That I wasn’t what?” she said with a playful smirk.
I began tickling her, pinching at her sides and behind her knees until she was flat on her back, writhing around. I hovered over her and held her arms braced above her head.
“I needed to make sure you weren’t fucking with my heart again, you little tease.” I ducked my head and ran my tongue up her neck and continued the torture up her cheek and to her forehead.
She squirmed, screaming, “Yuck! Let me go!”
We were laughing hysterically until finally we were cuddled up again, dozing off with the morning light blasting us through the window.
Mia was gone when I woke up again. She’d left me a note saying she was going to a dress fitting with Jenny. I looked at the clock. It was nine forty-five. I got dressed and bolted down to the studio where Frank was already waiting outside.
“I think you should have hired a lawyer, Will.”
“Look, I’m not talking today. We’ll let them say their piece. I’ve seen nothing yet to make me think I need to hire a lawyer. No charges, no court papers. This is a scare tactic.”
“I hope you’re right.” As I unlocked the door, I noticed someone walking toward us in the reflection.
“Charlene Fretas,” Frank said loudly. “I’m Frank Abedo.” He was reaching out to shake her hand as I turned to introduce myself. I immediately froze, as did she.
I had met Charlene months before Mia and I had gotten together. She’d come into the bar I used to work in and basically propositioned me. I’d initially turned her down, but then after a long, depressing night of putting up with obnoxious bimbos at a club and feeling utter rejection from Mia, I
’d given in and met Charlene—Charlie—in her hotel room.
She was quite a bit older and she had told me that she was a lawyer in town for business. When I’d gone to her room that night, I’d fully expected to find a sex- crazed cougar. In fact, I was kind of hoping for it after learning about Mia and her then-boyfriend. Instead, Charlie and I had done nothing but basically spill our guts about recent heartbreaks. Past the rock-hard exterior, she was kind and compassionate. We’d cuddled. It sounds stupid, but we just slept in the same bed and held each other. It was exactly what I’d needed at the time.
She was not the person I expected to see that day outside my studio. I could tell right away that she was wearing her lawyer hat because she barely broke a smile when she saw my face. “Mr. Ryan,” she said to me as she shook my hand.
“Charlie,” I replied.
“It’s Charlene. Let’s keep this professional.”
The memory of our night together vanished. Showing up at my studio and threatening to sue on behalf of Chad annihilated any respect I’d had for her.
“Okay, fine. Charlene it is. So, Charlene, you’re Chad’s lawyer?”
“Yes, and I’m also his aunt. I wanted to get that on the record.”
“Duly noted. Although, I heard you’re his great aunt?” I said, smirking.
“Yes, great aunt. My sister had his mother when she was fifteen, so that made me a very young aunt.”
“That’s neither here nor there,” Frank said, gesturing toward the door. “Shall we?”
We took seats in the meeting room, which had nothing but a coffee maker and a large oval conference table and chairs. Charlene immediately pulled out a digital recorder.
“No,” I said.
She shrugged and then took the battery out and set it next to the recorder on the table. It was a gesture to earn trust.
“I don’t even know what this is about, Charlene. Why don’t we start with a conversation? Why are you here?”