Andy replied to tell me it was show time and the night before had gone well. Doctor’s orders were that I be without a fever for over twenty-four hours before I could be around the others. I sighed and took my temperature to find it was only 99.5. Ashley called back immediately to my text, and I managed to fill her in for fifteen minutes and then rested my voice, while she spent thirty more telling me about work and her crush on the newest resident. Unbelievably, I still felt tired, and while watching TV on the couch, I dosed off again. My health was steadily improving, though, because I realized for the first time the worst thing about being sick … not seeing the dimple for three days in a row.
My phone rang in the morning, still on the charger. Rubbing my eyes, I stretched from my spot on the couch while I tried to locate it.
“Good morning, sunshine. Glad you could remember how to use this lovely technology called a phone.” Jackson’s familiar voice greeted me, and I found myself smiling immediately.
“Hey, yourself. It was completely dead, and I honestly did not miss it one bit. I cannot believe I was so sick—not like me at all. Does anyone else have it?” I asked dubiously, wanting to believe I wasn’t the lone case.
“I think we’re all clear, so far. You missed some good shows, Lex. Good thing we were at the casino- it was a small stage and no fancy entrances, so it was safe. I sat for half the songs, I swear, but I sure miss your magic hands after three days.”
I sighed and rummaged for the thermometer to check my status. “I need to take my temp. Tell me more while I do it.”
“Well, the casino wound up giving me a suite to stay in here at their hotel due to your quarantine. I had Andy stay with me since there were two rooms. Shows went great, no issues there. We all ventured around the casino on the downtime. I had to stick to the VIP areas so I wouldn’t be harassed, which means I spent more money than I intended on blackjack. Gloria hit a slot machine one day for five hundred bucks. Someone said Travis did well at roulette, but I could give a shit. Anyway—”
The thermometer beeped, and I looked down to see 99.0 and let out a sigh of relief. “Okay, I’m at least 18 hours without a fever so far. What did you play for the second-to-last song?”
He paused for a long moment, which caught me off guard. Had I said something wrong? “Um, we actually stuck with the new one, trying to tweak it. Got the melody fine-tuned I think, and the background vocals. I, well, I’m surprised you asked. Do you care…what I sing for the second-to-last song?”
I swallowed and rubbed my lips back and forth. “I was just curious, Jackson. It’s become such a tradition and all.”
“Listen, Lex, I had quite a bit of downtime to think. I wrote you a letter, kind of how you wrote me one before—just to sort out what I wanted to say. Looks like I better stay on the gray bus for this next drive until you hit the twenty-four-hour mark. Then maybe I can give it to you when we get to Indy.”
“Okay, sure. When do we leave?”
“After lunch. I’ll have Andy bring you more food, and I’ll see you soon.”
We hung up, and I couldn’t breathe for a moment as I thought about his words. What revelations did he have? Was he completely over my ridiculous self-punishment, or professing his devotion to pursue us?
When the buses rolled out, I turned on my computer to catch up on work emails and document my absence from the normal therapy routine in Jackson’s chart. When we arrived at Bankers Life Fieldhouse, I quickly jumped in the shower and tried to become presentable for the real world again. I took my temperature, now 98.4 degrees, which was my normal, and it had been twenty-four hours without a spike.
With perfect timing, a knock came at the door. Andy stuck his head in, searching for me as if he were scared. I rolled my eyes and announced, “It’s not like I had the bubonic plague. I passed the fever test, so maybe y’all won’t all run away screaming if I come out?”
He chuckled at me and stepped in, setting a large basket on the counter and a few envelopes next to it. “Oh, get well gifts? You shouldn’t have,” I gushed and he laughed again.
“Get well cards, yes, but the basket is sanitizing stuff—every kind ever made. Have to get it sparkling clean before Jack can get back in here. He pulled out rubber gloves and began to don one, but I snatched them away.
“For goodness sake, you don’t have to get stuck cleaning. I’ll do it. When it’s one hundred percent sterile, I’ll come out and let y’all know.”
I cleaned for over an hour to wipe down every surface, spray everything I could find, and kill every germ within my sick ward. I had to open all the windows to help with the overwhelming smell of disinfectant burning my nose. It was a beautiful mid-May day in Indianapolis. The sun was out and a breeze blew, making me realize how long I’d spent cooped up.
Venturing out, I found everyone gathered at the kitchen bus for a stir-fry and eggroll buffet. It was fun to watch the expressions as people slowly noticed me. Some were still leery, others ecstatic and hugging me. I glanced up to meet Jackson’s eye. He winked and said, “You look like crap, Doc. Get some food before you waste away.”
We caught up on long needed therapy after dinner, spending two hours working on the swelling, tightness, tenderness, and loss of mobility. I had to readdress the hip, because he was limping more and had another trigger point in the piriformis muscle.
After e-stim, his grandma called to catch up, as they did each week. He held his phone with one hand, settling in for a long talk, and held out a sealed envelope to me with the other hand. My eyes stayed downcast as I took it from him, afraid to betray how nervous I felt. While he was distracted on the phone, I changed into my pajamas and pulled the curtain tight on my bunk, before I nestled in to read. Once I heard him shut his bedroom door, I felt at ease to break the seal and unfold the single sheet of lined paper.
Lex,
I wanted to tell you I’m sorry for putting you through all the ups and downs we’ve had over the last two months. I wanted to say that, but I can’t if I’m being honest. I’m really not sorry, because you have opened my eyes to so many things I didn’t know existed, and you have pushed me to be a better man. I was happy to think my old reality was the only way it could be, but I can’t hide behind that anymore.
This is a huge blessing and a huge curse to me. Now, I know how I can feel, and I know what I’m striving to find … but, I’m not allowed to have it with you. You’ve set a very high bar, and I’m sure I won’t find anyone else to fill your shoes. So, I was determined to make you want to be with me, because it was right for me. After our night out in Louisville, what I realized is that it’s not right for you. I’m very selfish, because all I could think was that we should be together because it felt natural to me, and I ignored you trying to tell me that it wasn’t what you wanted.
My lifestyle isn’t easy, and I can see it’s asking too much of you. You looked sick after seeing those girls’ numbers after the record signing. And, I don’t want to see you get pushed away like you did the other night, and I sure as hell don’t ever want you to feel like I abandoned you. Because, really, how could I be truly happy if I was able to be with you, but you weren’t happy? I can’t expect you to make so many sacrifices to fit into my crazy world.
I need to let you go so you can find your perfect person. At least I’ll know I never held you down to a world in which you weren’t happy. This is me, finally being unselfish for once. I understand what you’ve been saying and why we can’t be together. I will let go and hope it stops these awkward moments.
Thank you for all you’ve taught me.
Yours,
Jackson
My reaction was to cry immediately and forcefully into my pillow. His letter brought so many emotions; I didn’t even know how to begin to process it all. I should have felt happy he realized we would never work. He was willing to do what I asked and let us go back to our friendly relationship. I should have felt happy I’d made positive changes in his life and he in mine. I should have felt happy to know he’d car
ed about me as much as I had about him. Nevertheless, I felt like grieving, because he also took away the possibility of us ever working out in the end—that far away hope I kept hidden, that somehow we could find happily ever after.
Chapter 12
Jackson was up early with plates of food steaming at the booth while he read the local Indianapolis newspaper. My stomach oscillated between ravenous hunger and unsettled rumbling, so I nibbled on a warm muffin and sipped tea. He peered at me over the paper a few times, while I was lost in thought. His letter professed to set me free to find my perfect person, but the Morrison had taught me you needed to accept flaws in the one you couldn’t live without, not try to make them perfect.
“Earth to Lexie …”
I snapped my head up to find his damn perfect teeth smiling right at me.
“Sorry, I was in another world there.”
“You know how to keep a guy in suspense. What did you think?”
I swallowed and made the right words come out, the ones I rehearsed in my head. “It was a wonderful letter, Jackson. Thank you for the kind things you said and for understanding where I’m coming from. I feel honored you think I changed you for the better, but it was probably just the timing.” I had to look away, because his eyes were excessively intense, and I could feel them calling, “bullshit.”
He let me slide, pursing his lips, then patted my hand, as a parent would do. “Then, let’s get to work, by all means.”
I was surprised at how fast he dismissed the topic as he headed to the couch and took his boot off to begin therapy.
After I finished my computer work, while he was still on ice, I checked Facebook for the first time in a week. I gasped and covered my mouth at the leading story.
“Well, damn, what happened? Somebody die?”
I shook my head. “No, but another marriage did. Oh, I feel like such an ass. I just saw her and didn’t realize there was a problem. It’s Holly, the friend I went to see coach while we were in Lexington. She just changed her status from married to single, and it has about a hundred comments of shock and sympathies under it. They’ve been together since freshman year of college.” I put my head in my hands, dismayed once again at the divorce rate.
When I locked eyes with Jackson a moment later, I knew he could read my mind. I was right all along; forever love doesn’t exist, and we were right to call it quits.
The following days in Indianapolis flew by as we prepped for shows on Thursday and Friday. Jack had a lot of big city press to do with Amos, which kept him gone the majority of the time. Travis would pop up when I least expected it, as was his standard behavior. I hung out with the dancers, loving my new role as they let me help with choreography. The videographer was back again, in need of more concert footage for the last song release off Jack’s album, because he had a deadline for a video premier at the CMA Music Festival in two weeks. Andy told us some rehearsal time before the shows this week would be to try the song out live on stage, even though the first time an audience would see it would be at the festival.
On Wednesday, the crew set up the stage, giving us a good deal of time to use it. I joined Trina and Kate that evening, and we looked out into the arena, wondering if we should make any more changes.
I snickered and nudged Kate. “I really feel like we need to incorporate Trina’s famous Robot moves into the show.”
Trina laughed and began to mock my booty shaking. “Only if we get a cameo of your famous Rump Shaker.”
Kate chimed in as we mimicked each other’s classic moves from the piano bar. Suddenly we heard loud clapping from the side of the stage and spun to see Jackson, Andy, and Charlie giving us their best whistles and hollers. We fell into a fit of giggles and tried to shoo them away.
“No, seriously, it was really fun to watch y’all,” Andy said, “Girls usually take themselves too seriously to cut loose.”
Kate smiled and even blushed as she went toward him. “Alright, stalkers, is dinner ready?”
Charlie nodded, his toothy grin highlighted with rosy cheeks. “That’s what we came to tell you before we got caught up in the show.”
Trina and Kate high-fived and headed off the stage with Andy and Charlie. Jackson held up a hand to stop me. I could picture his wheels turning, then he surprised me by promptly sitting on the floor of the dim stage, so I followed suit.
“Great idea,” he mumbled. “I think that’s exactly what we need.”
“You lost me.”
“Have you even heard the new song? The one the video is being made for and we premier at the festival?””
I shook my head and cringed. “Remember, I don’t own the CD.”
He glared at me playfully. “It’s called ‘Dance Like No One’s Watching,’ and you may actually enjoy it. It doesn’t mention booties or cheap sex. I wrote it to be an anthem on the dance floor; it has a good, stomping beat. My inspiration was thinking of how when we were young, we’d all get out and dance and cut loose, and as we get older, we get all stiff, shy, and afraid to let go. I agree with Andy, watching you guys at the piano bar and now, just spontaneous and having fun—if you have a signature move, use it! Who cares if it’s from this decade or not?”
I stared at him in disbelief. “I didn’t know you thought so deeply about dance at all.”
“Well, thank yourself for that, I’ve thought about it a lot more since you came along. You can move crowds and make people happy, Lexie. I’ve seen it. So, I’m thinking this song needs a line dance. And, I think you need to be the one who creates it.”
My mouth fell open.
He took advantage of my stunned silence to continue. “Imagine something that caught on so everyone wanted to dance together. Just like the message, let’s get everyone moving and not worried if they look perfect. Anyone can line dance, right? We could premier the dance with the song at the CMA festival and put it in the video—”
“Whoa, hold on, let me get this straight. The festival is just a couple weeks away. You want me to create a dance for this song and premier it live to a huge crowd? I think you have me confused with someone else.”
“No, you’re the right one to do this, Doc. You have the talent, the background, the training, and mostly, you have the passion. Think about it, you lost something so special in your life; this is a great way to have part of it back. Its low key dancing that won’t hurt your ankle. You just have to create it and teach the others. It’s a win-win-win.”
I felt like my eyes might bug out of my head, so I closed them and took a deep breath. Visions of all of my years of dance buzzed through my mind and I felt a pang. “Can I at least hear the song before I even think more about this?”
He clapped his hands together, as if I’d had the best idea he’d ever heard. He struggled to his crutch as I rose to help steady him, and we headed out to the buses.
I listened to his iPod during the meal, where I sat at the end of a table with ear buds and set the song to replay. I didn’t even realize, by the last bite of lasagna, I was singing the words and moving to the beat. The chorus had a perfect drum strike on the word “dance” as he repeated “dance like no one’s watching” three times. I got up to throw my plate away and caught Jack’s eye. I tipped my head in approval and continued on my way, deciding to take a walk while I formed some eight counts in my head. Travis tried to wave me over as I walked by his table, but I was so absorbed in the song I just waved and continued with a purpose.
During therapy, before we headed to bed, I told Jackson I was game to try it. Even as I said it, I felt a cold sweat of fear and tried to brush it away. The image I saw for bringing the song to life kept me confident enough to take the plunge. I went to sleep with the images of choreography floating through my head.
The following morning, the band set up after breakfast so they’d have the day to practice the new single and the videographer could get plenty of footage. I saw Jackson pull the man aside at one point, and they both looked at the dancers and then me as they discussed the change
s to come. The first few run-throughs of the song were rough, but the band finally got their groove and timing down pat. I watched from the front row, taking mental notes, eventually joined by Jill and Jessica, with Andy popping in and out.
After a lunch break, while back in the arena, I felt the presence of a big hat sit next to me. Travis leaned in. “You’ve been a stranger lately.”
I tried to smile politely, but I was obsessed with my new task, and I wanted to concentrate. “Hey, Travis, how are ya?” I dared to poke his hat so it uncovered his eyes. I hated how much it shadowed his face, hiding his expressions.
He looked surprised at my audacity and then grinned. “I heard you and Jack have come to a better understanding lately.”
My forehead wrinkled at his audacity this time and I snapped, “We always understood, but we did rehash it again, just for fun.”
My tone made him grin wider and he said smoothly, “You’ll have to let me take you out sometime soon. Think about when, because I don’t take no for an answer.” He tipped his brim and glided away in his lanky, confident stride, leaving me shaking my head.
I took out Jackson’s iPad and recorded the band’s last performance of the new song so I would have it to use for my choreography. It was time for the concert rehearsal, and then the crew had to switch out the set for Travis’s band in time for him to rehearse as well. Over dinner, I asked Jack not to tell the girls about the line dance yet. I didn’t want them hovering over me to see what I was creating until I felt more confident in it.
Muse: ( Groupie Volume 2 of 2) Page 7