Your Neighborhood Legend: Neighborhood #10

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Your Neighborhood Legend: Neighborhood #10 Page 4

by Tarrah Anders


  “And he knew that there wouldn’t be anyone in this town that I would listen to, other than you. He loved you like a daughter, if I know anything, I know that. Why not see where this will go? We’re adults now and we know better.”

  “I’m not sure if my heart can risk being broken by you a second time,” she looks up to me with sadness, the same sadness that I saw last night.

  “I understand,” I say.

  She slides into her car and I stop the door from closing, bend down and pull her by the chin to meet me halfway as I lightly brush my lips against hers.

  Ten

  Two weeks later, I’m on a couch in the studio with a notepad in my hands. Since the hotel with Leslie, I’ve been on a spree of creativeness. The guys are confused by the sudden burst, but they’re rolling with it. We haven’t seen one another since that night, despite my attempts and I cannot get her out of my mind.

  “So, you want to start out with a guitar riff, slowly adding some drums in and then powering out?” Will asks.

  “Right, I’d start singing the start of a melody or something then when we’re to full music, we begin pulling out with the stops when I hit the chorus, which is where you guys would come in. We’d slow it down and I’d bust out a chord or two and then we continue full blast.” I describe.

  “What has gotten to you? I think this is the fastest you’ve ever written something.” Pete asks.

  “He’s been day dreaming about that cop lady, and she’s shutting him down like a red light.” Will replies before I can.

  “We’re just old friends, and we’re working together to bring my father’s idea to fruition, that’s all,” I say lying through my teeth.

  “She’s iced you out man, admit it. The famous Caleb Mercy got iced out and now he’s writing all his feelings for the woman down.” Will laughs.

  “Fuck you man, that’s not what’s up,” I say throwing my pen in his direction.

  “Isn’t she coming over tonight to hang out? I noticed that you got a new haircut and beard trim, looking like you got all pretty for your lady friend,” Pete teases.

  “I hate you fuckers,” I reply standing. “I’m going to go take a shower, have fun playing with each other.”

  “He’s gotta go get gussied up for his lady friend,” Pete teases as I walk out of the room.

  Leslie arrives promptly at the time we discussed; she’s anxiously looking around as I show her into one of the dining rooms.

  “You haven’t changed the house any,” she observes.

  “While I may be a rock star, I still like nice things to remain in place,” I say.

  “No, I mean there’s still no touch of your own. I mean I know it’s only been a month since he passed, but you made your decision, right? You’re staying in Mercy?” she asks, but not for concern out of the plans that my dad left. No, these concerns, I can tell are all her own personal ones.

  “I will within time, I’ve been busy. We’ve been doing some writing and stuff. I’ve met with several lawyers and groups on dad’s list that he left, I haven’t had time to play interior designer. And I’m not too sure how much I want to. This place ain’t no museum, but I don’t want it to look trashed when we open this place up to the public.”

  “Well, let’s get to work then, to try to figure out just how this will work, I want wish one done as soon as we can,” she says.

  “Why, you tired of hanging out with me?” I ask trying to look offended with my hand on my chest.

  “I just want to make sure this is something that keeps its momentum, that’s all. Has nothing to do with you and nothing to do with me.”

  We sit down at the table that I had all the paperwork I’ve been working on for the past week on.

  She looks over the table with a quirked eyebrow then looks at me with her arm waving toward to table.

  “This is all you? What is this?” she asks.

  “It’s timelines, potential contracts, ideas and a rough draft of ideas. Over here is details about possible fundraising events, and then right here are ideas on new construction for the town.” I answer.

  “So, what you’re saying is that all three of your fathers wants, you’ve been working on? Not just one? Are you trying to get it over with?” she asks.

  “Not at all, I wanted to make sure to align everything together. You know we’re already going to be taking up residence at the bar, that’s part of it all too. This is how I work. Piece by piece, but ultimately looking at it as a whole.”

  She sits down and picks up a folder, nods, and thumbs through the contents as I sit beside her.

  I give her the rundown of what I’m thinking and while she adds in her two cents here and there, ultimately after heavy details, we’re in the agreeance of where we will start first. We need to apply for non-profit status and then open the appropriate accounts. Some of the money that my dad left me, was for staffing in the event that I went with the route of a foundation. I had lists of credible professionals to set us up and after three hours of talking about plans, I’m starving.

  “I think Melly cooked lasagna, and you know when she does that there’s enough to feed the entire town, care to stay for dinner?” I offer her as I stretch in my seat, with her eyes going to the hem of my shirt where my stomach makes an appearance.

  She quickly looks up, knowing that I caught her staring as she clears her throat.

  “I don’t think that I should, I should probably head home, but thank you.” she declines.

  “It’s just a meal, c’mon. I want you to officially meet the guys, if you’re working with me you’re with them too,” I stand, pushing out the chair and offering her my hand.

  “I mean, Melly’s food is pretty good, it would be horrible of me to turn it down,” she shrugs and places her small hand perfectly in my large palm.

  She lets go of my hand immediately once she stands, and I lead her to the kitchen where everyone is hanging out, including Melly.

  “Hey Mel, we have enough for one more, right?” I shout as soon as we enter the room.

  Melly turns around and shrieks with her hands in the air above her head.

  “What in the world are you doing here darlin’? I feel like I haven’t seen yous in ages, what’s it been six or seven months?” Melly rushed to Leslie and pulls her into her arms while all talking in the kitchen ceases.

  “Hey Mel, what’s cookin’?” Leslie says into Melly’s shoulder.

  “Oh, this one is punny,” Pete laughs.

  “Dude, that just sounds dumb,” Will laughs punching Pete in the shoulder.

  “Ignore these buffoons, come, come. Tell me everything that you’ve been doing, child.” Melly pulls Leslie with her to the island in the kitchen and I know that she’s now distracted by Melly and it’s as if I’m not even in the room. I walk over to the guys, who are sitting at the dining set and take a seat.

  “What’s happening here?” Pete asks. “She seems to know your cook? She seems pretty familiar and at home here, is this her?”

  “Her?” I ask.

  “You know, the one from when we first started. You were drunk and crying her name like a little bitch,” Will asks looking in her direction. “Plus, you haven’t committed to anyone. Wait, is she the reason?”

  “I don’t commit to a woman, because we’ve been on the road for the past three years,” I tell him.

  “Yep, this is her,” Pete says leaning in.

  “Why are you guys so interested in my business?” I ask them only slightly annoyed that they’re picking on me.

  “Because, what else are we going to do? This is a small town and I’m afraid to leave the grounds in fear some millennial will see me and report it to the National Inquirer,” Will quips.

  “Don’t be a wuss man, there are some fine specimens that work at that bar in town, the diner too. And I’ve been out there, I haven’t seen my mug in any mags lately.” Pete adds.

  “That’s because no one wants to look at your ugly mug, bro. Everyone knows that I’m the heart th
rob of the group.” Will crosses his arms over his chest and pretends to flip his hair.

  “I think we all know that if anyone is the heart-throb it’s me, I mean have you seen me lately? All this healthy eating, the expansion of my diet from ramen to all the delicacies, shit man, I’m a hunk!” Pete continues.

  Their back and forth fades while I observe the interaction between Leslie and Melly. They have known one another for years, after all Melly has been at this house since I was born. In high school, Leslie was in and out of this house just as much, if not more than I was.

  I smile as they talk excitedly. I wish I was included in their conversation, instead of being far away and not hearing a word of what they’re saying.

  They both turn to look over at me, and time flashes back to when I last saw her in this house before leaving town.

  Her hair was down, wavy from hanging out at the pool all day. Her freckles stood out, sun-kissed along the bridge of her nose and across her cheekbones. Her pale pink lips smiled at me as I playfully locked her out of the house. The shaking of her head as I pretended to walk away, but then when I turned around, she wasn’t there anymore. Confused, I walked over to the sliding glass door and opened it, peering out back. But she isn’t anywhere to be seen.

  A tap on my shoulder makes me hit my head against the side of the entry way of the door.

  And there’s my girl, with a smirk on her face.

  “Don’t forget Mr. Mercy, I know this house just as well as you do. All the other doors that lead to which entryway, yeah, sir, don’t you underestimate me.”

  I pull her closer to me by her waist as she wraps her tanned arms around my neck, I lower my head and brush my lips against hers and kiss her with everything that I have.

  Fingers snap in front of my face and my eyes focus, my head twisting to my bandmates.

  “What?” I ask.

  “You stopped paying attention to us, is this what it’s like when you’re in a relationship?” Pete asks grinning.

  “I’m not in a relationship,” I tell them.

  “But you want to be,” Will adds as Leslie makes her way over to us.

  “So, you guys must be the other part of Mercy’s Grind?” she asks coming to stand beside me.

  The guys introduce themselves while I pull up a chair for her to sit in. We all hang out until dinner is ready and Melly steers us into the dining room, also joining us for dinner as she usually does. Dinner is relaxed and everyone talks around one another. After dinner, the guys take all the plates to the kitchen and leave Leslie alone after Melly heads to her room.

  Eleven

  “I have a question for you,” I begin nervously, “have you thought about the night at the hotel?”

  I can tell that I am catching her off-guard as she doesn’t answer me right away. I can tell that there’s remorse in what she’s about to say to me.

  “Of course, I do. But I just don’t think it’s the smartest thing to do in this moment,” she says taking my hand in hers. “I just think that we need to be able to work together on this project without anything personal interfering with the plans. Maybe, later on down the road, we can revisit. But I don’t think it would be smart for us to get involved, like that.”

  “The night at the hotel?” I ask.

  “Was amazing, and everything that I remember about you. But it was a passing moment, I was weak, and you are familiar. I let down my guard when I shouldn’t, and I think that anything more would complicate things.”

  I’m hurt that she basically said that fucking me was a comfortability aspect and that it doesn’t matter, but I’m not going to let on that it bruised my ego. Instead I clap my hands, clear my throat and stand.

  “Well, okay then. It looks like it’s getting late, and I don’t want to keep you too long.” I say.

  She stands up with a confused look. “Listen, I’m sorry–”

  “There’s nothing to be sorry about, Les. I’ve got some band stuff to take care off with Noah in town over the next few days. But I will make sure that the non-profit stuff gets done right away. I’ll work on a few of the other matters too, maybe we schedule to meet up same time, next week for a progress update, or we can just do it over the phone, your call.”

  It’s not often that I’m flustered, but I am. I want to pretend that I didn’t bring up the topic and that she didn’t just turn me down. But deep down, I understand her concerns. I know she doesn’t fully trust me and that quite possibly all I was to her that night was a warm body that she knew. She didn’t say anything that I didn’t already know.

  She makes perfect sense, but I can’t help it that my ego is bruised.

  I go in search of my bandmates, who are in the theater room and take my normal seat in the middle.

  “She’s hot,” Pete smiles.

  “Don’t even think about it. She’s off-limits!” I say gruffly.

  “You going to hit that?” Will asks. “Or just because we want to, you’re calling dibs?”

  “It means she’s off limits,” I repeat.

  “We know, we know. We’re just yanking your chain, you grumpy asshole. You guys talk all the business that you needed to?” Will asks.

  “As much as needed. I’ve got some homework to do, but maybe we should jam a bit?” I ask.

  “You need to get some energy out?” Pete smirks. “Unless you just want a quickie and you’re coming down from that.”

  “Fuck you.” I spit back at him.

  There is so much that goes with creating a non-profit that I wasn’t expecting. I hired a non-profit lawyer at the urging of my manager and have created my to-do list.

  After rounds of meetings with every lawyer on my payroll and half the list from my father, I am exhausted, but I know that I need to work on the next steps. I want the foundation up and running for the next summer season. I have delegated the planning of dates for our residence to Will and have my publicist working on crafting a plan for our small-town tour, so the majority of my focus is here.

  While I want to do as much as I can, I want to keep Leslie up to date and involved as much as possible.

  It’s been a week before I call her, but now we need to create a board of directors and the final steps to get the ball rolling.

  I’m sitting in a corner booth at the bar, waiting for her. I’m observing the space, the atmosphere and the folks who come in here. There is no specific demographic for the bar. You can tell there are people who live here and then there are people who are passing through the town.

  “Hey, just cruising the scene?” Noah asks, taking a seat across from me with a rag over his shoulder.

  “Nah, I’m meeting Leslie here for some business stuff.”

  Noah wiggles his eyebrows.

  “It’s not like that. We’re just conducting business. Old friends.”

  “You mean, she’s not falling all over for the hometown hero?” Noah asks with a tilt of his head.

  “Dude, nothing about me is a hometown hero,” I shake my head.

  “I call bullshit on that one. Look, you may have been absent from Mercy, but you never really were. People around here knew that Mercy’s son was a big shot, and sometimes people can’t handle the small town. You were born for the big city. And now look, anyone could have taken whatever their father’s wishes were and just say ‘fuck it, he’s dead, he’ll never know that I didn’t do as he asked.’ But you’re actually doing it. So yeah man, you’re the hometown hero.”

  “Sounds like quite the name to have to live up to,” Leslie says at the end of the booth with her hands in her back pockets.

  Noah and I look up at her and smile, Noah scoots out of the booth and holds his hand out for Leslie to slide in after him then looks back at me as I speak.

  “Will and you are working on our schedule, right?” I ask.

  “Yeah, we’re meeting tomorrow night here if you want to join and approve everything. If all looks good, first show is in two weeks.”

  “Nice. No need though, he’s got it. I trust
him. I just need to make sure my manager and publicist get the information.”

  I get a thumbs up as he walks away, and I offer a smile to Leslie.

  “How does it work in the group? You don’t make all the decisions?” she asks.

  “We talk about everything before we make decisions. But we’ve been together for years, they know just as much as I do pertaining to all the business end, I don’t need to be involved in all of it.”

  “The band is named after you,” she points out.

  “Yup, because I was an arrogant prick when we first got started. Anyways, we’re not here to talk about that. Shall we get down to business?” I ask.

  “I’m not sure you really need me anymore,” she tells me with a shake of her head and a laugh under her tone.

  “No, I do. I want you to be involved in this as much as possible. In fact, my lawyer was talking to me about a BOD and I want you on it.” I declare.

  “A BOD?” she questions.

  “Board of Directors, I want to include town figures as well as talent. I’m in talks with a few other major industry folks. But I want to reserve a spot for you.” I say.

  “How about you just put me in the foundation on a line level position, I don’t need to be on a board,” she says.

  “Are you sure? I want you involved, Les. This was my father’s wishes and you have remained someone to him, when I didn’t. You are entitled to everything that I am as far as I’m concerned, probably more.”

  She looks at me with tears brimming her eyes for a moment before casting her glance sideways at the floor. She uses the sleeve of her sweater to wipe her nose and then offers me a half-smile.

  She convinces me to look for a board and we make a list of potentials.

  “Thank you,” she says.

  We continue talking and I fill her in with everything that the lawyers have told me, the topic of conversation turns to what life has been like for her with a badge. She talks about how my father and her would watch cop movies and how he inspired her. She filled me in on stuff about my father that I missed over the years, how he would talk about how proud of me he was and then about how it was when he started getting ill.

 

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