Sweet Thing

  I rolled my eyes at him. “It was nice meeting you, Mark. Thanks for the offer, but we better get going.” Mark didn’t seem disappointed. If anything, I thought I caught a look of relief on his face as we walked away.

  “Why’d you do that? He just wanted buy me a drink,” I said with mock disappointment.

  “There are male groupies, too, Mia. Next thing you know he’ll be at the next performance with your portrait silkscreened on his T-shirt,” he said, laughing.

  “I doubt that.”

  Back at the apartment, I stood in Will’s doorway as he sat on his bed removing his shoes. “I have to be at Kell’s early tomorrow so I’m gonna get to bed.”

  He stood up directly in front of me, head down, and took my hands in his.

  When his gaze met mine, I saw peace in his eyes. “You were great tonight. Thank you, Mia.”

  I felt my face flush. “You’re too kind. Really, you were amazing.” This time I threw my arms around his neck, reached up on my tippy toes, and gave him a big, long hug. He held me tight against him.

  “Goodnight,” he said and then kissed my cheek.

  I cried as I lay in my bed that night, thinking about how it wouldn’t be long before Will would go off and become a famous musician, leaving this little life we created behind. There would be models and celebrities vying for his attention and I would become just a blurry memory from the early years. I would see him in some interview on the internet talking about how he’d spent time in the East Village, playing in seedy venues and reading poetry in coffee shops. I cried because I knew that if I gave myself to Will, I would be left in pieces… left behind. The only way I could hang on was to be his friend, even though every part of me wanted more.

  Track 13: The Sound of His Soul

  On Thursday, I woke up feeling an unreasonable amount of excitement about going to the recording studio where Will was working on his demo. I took Jackson for a slow, meandering walk through the park. He was becoming more and more listless during our outings. Jackson always had sad eyes, but they were starting to look hollow. I knew he was growing old fast and that day I begged him to hang on for another year.

  “I need you, buddy, now more than ever,” I said to him. He wagged his tail and I felt my heart lift a little. It would be a good day; I could feel it, and for the first time in a while I looked forward to working hard at something; music never really felt like work anyway.

  When I got to the studio, Will greeted me with enthusiasm. He had already completed two songs and just needed the piano track for the third to complete his demo. He was including my song, which he named “Pray,” along with “All Fine” and finally the song “Polarize” that I would be working on.

  “Hey, baby,” he said, kissing me on the cheek. He quickly grabbed my hand and led me through the studio and past a few people sitting at on a couch in the lobby area. “This is Mia, everyone!” he shouted and then pulled me through a door and motioned for me to sit down at the mixing console. Frank was there and another man who I assumed was the engineer. “Mia, this is Jeff. Jeff, Mia.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I said, shaking his hand. I looked up at Frank and smiled. He winked back at me but remained quiet in the corner. I directed my attention to Will, who was all business, moving the dials and pressing buttons. I could barely wrap my head around what he was doing.

  “Listen, you have hear this and tell me what you think,” he said. It was my song playing and it sounded better than I could have possibly imagined it. As Will’s vocal began to rise in the second verse, I got chills; goose bumps covered my body. He held each note so long and steady and controlled; I couldn’t think of any way to make the song better.

  He looked at me sharply while I listened and then he said, “What do you think? Too much on the low end?” The look on his face was intensely serious.

  “No way! It’s perfect. That depth makes the song,” I said.

  “Yeah, I agree.” He worked at the board like every dial was a string on his guitar. I was astonished. Jeff the engineer literally did nothing; he was leaning back in his chair with his feet propped on a table. I’m pretty sure I saw dollar signs on Frank’s eyeballs as he shot me the most self-satisfied smile I had ever seen. Will was a perfectionist and there was no doubt that he was in his element in the studio.

  “Let’s do this, then,” he said while flipping a couple of switches. He stood up, reached for my hand, and led me into the soundproof room where I sat down at a gorgeous Yamaha grand piano. He spoke to Jeff through the window. “Okay, we’re gonna go, start to finish, one take, and then we’re outta here.”

  “What? Will, what do you mean?”

  “You know the song, Mia, we’ve played it hundred times. The room is already miked for it. I want to do piano, guitar, and vocal… organically, like this… together.” He paused and assessed my look, which must have been pure fear. “We’ve got this, you and me, remember… mystical alchemy.” And then he winked, grabbed his guitar, and took a seat in front of the microphone. I shook my head frantically, but he just shot me an arrogant smile and said, “It’s a recording studio, they’ll let us have another take if we need it, but I have a feeling we won’t.”

  And we didn’t. The acoustics in the room were magical. Will was right; recording the song that way gave it more identity. After we finished our take, he went to the mixing console and started the playback. He was ranting to Jeff about push-ins and drum tracks, so I decided I should get out of his way.

  I put my arm around his shoulder and said, “I’m gonna get outta here unless you need me?”

  “Yes! I need you. Why, where do you have to be?”

  “Nowhere. I just don’t want to get in your way.”

  “You are never in my way. I want you here; you’re the only one who knows the sound I’m going for.”

  I was so incredibly flattered that Will felt that way. I stayed the entire day and into the night working with him to tweak each song. It took him several hours to perfect the drum track on “Polarize.” I didn’t even know Will could play the drums before that day, but he was competent enough at it that he was able to achieve the sound he wanted. When Frank and Jeff left, Will put some final touches on the last song and we listened to the completed demo tape all the way through. He was leaning back in a big leather chair. When I walked over to sit at the console he pulled me onto his lap. I leaned against him, resting the back of my head on his shoulder as we listened to music we’d created.

  On the subway ride home, he seemed truly at peace and satisfied with his work that day. He thanked me over and over and I just kept thanking him back; I told him it was one of the best days I’d had in a long time. When we got home we took turns in the shower and then went to our rooms. Will yelled at me from his bed, “Night, pretty baby!”

  “Night, Will.”

  It was getting colder in the city, Halloween came and went without fanfare and Will and I saw less and less of each other. He was working a lot, trying to keep himself busy while he waited to hear from the record labels. Jenny and Tyler were back, but not really; they weren’t kidding about wanting to start a family right away. I’m, pretty sure they only got out of bed to go to work. Sheil started dating a fellow sitar player; I was really happy to see her moving on, but for me it still felt like a reminder that my father was gone forever. I kept at it with the café, even though the daily business of running it started to feel mundane. I hoped that I would find more studio work to keep me busy, so I started working on putting together my own demo tape to offer people looking for a pianist.

  One morning at Kell’s I noticed Jenny looking a little pale. There was a line of patrons forming, but she and the old monster weren’t keeping up. Sheil popped in and started helping while Jenny leaned against the back counter, looking ill. I told her to go up to my apartment and rest. At lunch I went to see her and found her listening to Will’s demo.

  “This freakin’ rocks!” she said, bobbing her head.

  “Yeah, Will is going to be
big.” I feigned enthusiasm. I knew it was selfish; I wanted to be genuinely happy for him, but the thought of him moving on was becoming a giant void in my heart; a void that I tried desperately to ignore. “You seem to be feeling better.” There was a long pause.

  “You’re going to be an aunt, Mia,” she said with a huge smile.

  “Oh my god!” I wrapped my arms around her for a long hug. “I’m so happy for you guys. “

  Jenny and I spent the afternoon together at Kell’s, talking about babies and pregnancy. I realized I was extremely uninformed on the topic. I was an only child, no younger siblings, no nieces and nephews; I didn’t even have friends with kids. My only experience was the small amount of time I’d spent with Jacob and a few music lessons I’d given in Ann Arbor. Jenny told me she wanted Will and me to be the kid’s soul parents. I looked at her with amusement. “Is that like godparents?”

  “I guess it would be like godparents if we were religious… it’s like backup parents, you know?”

  “I’m totally honored, but don’t people usually pick a couple for stuff like that?”

  “I think best friends will suffice.”

  I had never thought of Will and me as best friends, but we were and everyone else knew it.

  “We would love that, Jenny.”

  I noticed an unkempt, grumpy-looking little fellow approach the counter with his iced cappuccino in hand. He set it on top of the refrigerator case.

  “Can I get a paper cup for that?”

  “I’m sorry, we don’t have paper cups here.”

  “I’ve got to be somewhere and I’d like to take my three-dollar coffee with me,” he said, his voice rising.

  “Like I said, I’m sorry, but we don’t stock paper cups here.” I was trying to tug at some environmental heartstrings he clearly didn’t have.

  “You’re kidding? Well, you can expect a Yelp review from me.”

  What an assclown. I had no patience for his crap. “If you want a three-dollar cappuccino in a paper cup, there’s a Starbucks around the corner—they’ll even write your name on it.” I gave him a condescending smile.

  He pushed the glass over toward me, intentionally spilling the contents directly down my shirt. That’s when mama bear lost it. Jenny flew around the counter with a metal pitcher of steaming milk. “Get the hell out of here, you scary little psycho man!” She had rage in her eyes and I had no doubt she would have scarred that man’s crabby little face if he hadn’t turned and hurried out the door. When she noticed the shock on my face, she smiled and said, “What? It’s the hormones. Anyway, what kind of man does that? What a crank-ass.”

  “Yes! I love it, Jenny, that’s my new favorite word.” We laughed and then I made an ill attempt at cleaning my white shirt.

  “Go ahead and go home, Mia. Tyler will be here any minute; he can help me close up.”

  “Thanks, girl.” I kissed her on the cheek. “Congratulations again. I’ll see you guys soon.”

  I leapt up the stairs to the apartment where I found Will and Frank sitting across from each other on the couches. They were both leaning forward over the coffee table, reading documents. My heart started racing when I realized it must have been a record deal. They both looked up at me and then directly to my shirt. Will raised an eyebrow.

  “Occupational hazard,” I said, pointing to the stain. “Hi, Frank.” I shot my hand up and headed back to my bedroom to change. Will followed me and then stood in my doorway, quietly observing. I pulled my shirt over my head and threw it on the floor and then stared blankly into my open closet, wearing just my jeans and bra. I glanced up at Will, who seemed to be appreciating my bold behavior. “Nothing you haven’t seen before,” I said in a singsong voice as I grabbed a shirt off the hanger.

  “We need to talk tonight after Frank leaves.” I sensed vague sadness in his tone, yet he was wearing his sexy, crooked smile. He leaned into my room, gripping the molding above the door with both hands. I focused on his tensing muscles as he rocked forward ever so slightly.

  “Jenny’s pregnant,” I said as I pulled a T-shirt over my head.

  “I know. Tyler told me. I think it’s great.”

  “Yeah, me too.” We smiled serenely at each other. When I turned away toward my dresser, he was suddenly wrapped around me. He folded my arms in with his and pulled me back tight against his chest, his fingers intertwining with mine. His mouth went to the crook of my neck without caution. I tilted my head slightly, giving him access, where he trailed delicate kisses all the way up to my ear and whispered, “I gotta get back to Frank. Don’t fall asleep on me, okay? We need to talk.”

  “I won’t.”

  He held me with fervor, so tight I could barely breathe, and then he nuzzled his face in my hair and inhaled deeply before letting me go and walking out.

  I let out the huge breath I was holding and then almost collapsed from the warm feeling running through my body. I took a shower and then sank into Will’s bed while he continued his conversation with Frank in the front room. Will’s gesture in my room earlier had me reeling; I thought it must have been some kind of goodbye embrace. I fought my heavy eyelids and tried to prepare myself for whatever he planned on telling me that night. When I could no longer keep my eyes open, I curled on my side and snuggled into his pillow.

  I started awake when I felt him pulling me into his chest from behind. “You fell asleep on me. I like you in my bed,” he whispered.

  “What time is it?” I asked.

  “A little after eleven.” I had only been asleep for an hour or so.

  “Let’s talk.”

  “It can wait.” He sighed and then pressed himself against me.

  “No! What’s going on?” I sat up and folded my legs underneath me.

  He leaned up on his elbows. I turned the light on, arched my eyebrows, and waited for him to speak. “I was offered a deal from Live Wire Records. They’re an independent record label and they’re willing to give me a lot more creative control than the others. I have until February to make a decision, but they’ve asked me to go to California in January and open three shows for Second Chance Charlie. It would be San Francisco, San Diego, and LA.” I was familiar with that band, mainly because the female lead singer is drop-dead gorgeous and plastered on every magazine cover. I swallowed back the huge lump in my throat.

  “Okay, and?”

  “Well, they want me to work on a couple of songs at a studio in LA while I’m there, so I’ll be gone the whole month of January and I just wanted to know if maybe… you would want to go to Detroit with me for Christmas and come back here for New Year’s before I have to leave. I want to tell my parents about the deal in person and I want you there with me.” He had hope in his eyes and it made me smile.

  “Can we go see my mom and David while we’re out there?”

  “Of course.”

  “I’ll have to figure something out with Kell’s and Jackson; I don’t want to take him on a plane,” I said, biting my lip. Leaving him worried me, but I really wanted to spend the holidays with Will and meet his family.

  “I’m sure Martha will watch him.”

  “Okay… Christmas Eve until the twenty-seventh, that’s all I’d be able to swing.”

  He sat up and gave me a hug. “Thank you.”

  When he let go, I leaned back and looked into his eyes, trying desperately not to cry. “I’m so proud and happy for you… congratulations. Honestly, Will, I knew it would happen.”

  “Then why do you look so sad, sweet thing?” he said with a pained expression.

  “I just… I don’t know. I want you in my life and I’m afraid…”

  “There’s nothing to worry about. You’re my BFF, best friend forever; we’ll always have this,” he tilted his head to side and smiled.

  “Promise?”

  His lips flattened and his expression turned serious. “I promise.”

  He remained motionless as I leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek. In the doorway I turned to say goodnight and
noticed he had the listening-to-God look. I wondered if was the first time he realized how much I truly cared for him.

  Will had to work on Thanksgiving; I guess hotel bars never close. I thought it was weird that he hadn’t quit his job since he would be collecting an advance from the record label once he signed the deal. When I asked him why he didn’t agree to the terms straight away, he simply said there was no need to rush it, but I wondered if he was waiting for something better to come along.

  Jackson and I went to Jenny’s parents, where they had the full holiday spread. I almost choked to death on piece of turkey when Jenny’s mom, Carol, asked me if Will and I had plans to marry.

  “They’re just friends, Mom,” Jenny said, laughing.

  “Oh, I thought… never mind,” Carol said, smiling.

  After dinner, I helped Carol clean up while Jenny sat on the couch, looking uncomfortable. She was whispering something to Tyler when Carol noticed her posture. “What’s wrong, Jenny?”

  “Nothing, I just feel crampy.” The room went silent. Jenny’s parents and I froze where we were standing. Those were not words anyone wanted to hear from a pregnant woman.

  “It’s normal to feel a little crampy this early, right?” Jenny said to her mom.

  “I think so, but should we call the doctor just in case?”

  Jenny stood up and then instantly doubled over. “Ow!” she shouted before scurrying off to the bathroom.

  I heard her cry out and then Tyler ran over and yelled, “Open up, babe!”

  He walked in and slammed the door behind him. I didn’t know what to do; I stared at Jenny’s mom and dad, who were both pale and motionless. I heard a guttural moan from Tyler and then Jenny began sobbing loudly. The door swung open and he walked out, carrying his shattered wife.

  “I have to take her to the hospital,” he said through heavy breaths. Jenny looked like a frail child in his long arms. Tears began streaming down my cheeks as I walked behind them out to the driveway.

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can, Jenny.” Tyler, Jenny, and her parents rode to the hospital together while I waited for a cab so I could take Jackson back to the apartment.