by Ann Lister
He smiled at her. “I’m taking you out for an early dinner to celebrate.”
“Oh? And what are we celebrating?”
“You coming back to Boston with me.” “I haven’t given you an answer yet.”
“I know. I was hoping you’d say yes. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t mind staying at Taylor’s place but I’d rather be sleeping in my own bed. And, it would be even better if you were sleeping in it beside me,” he said, squeezing her hand.
He raised her hand and kissed the fingers. “So, will you?”
“Will I what…share your bed?”
He nervously nodded. “Not just the bed, Annie, the whole house. I want us to be together and I want the baby to have her own room. You said it would take time to repair the damage I caused. Well, we need to be together to do that. Right?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, you’ll come?”
“Yes, I’ll go, but on one condition.”
“Anything.”
“You won’t pressure me to be intimate with you.”
“Deal.”
His eyes dropped to Sammi suckling and he smiled. “You know, I never thought I’d be jealous of a baby eating lunch before,” he chuckled.
She shoved him playfully on the shoulder. “You’re pressuring me again.”
“That wasn’t pressure,” he teased. “I was merely making an observation.”
“Yeah, okay.”
It was late when they arrived home and Bonita was already in bed. Annie quietly made her way up to the master bedroom to settle the baby while Michael went to the kitchen to check his mail.
Annie had her back to the door when he entered. She was setting the baby in the cradle Bonita had left for them. He came up behind her and set his hands on her shoulders. She bristled at this touch. Dejected, he stepped away and sat on the end of the bed.
“If it will make you feel more comfortable, I can sleep in one of the other bedrooms,” he stated glumly.
She spun around and faced him. His hands were clasped between his spread thighs, weariness creasing his face.
“I’m not going to ask you to leave your own bedroom.”
He closed his eyes and flopped back on the bed. “After all this time, you still don’t consider this your bedroom too?”
“That’s not what I mean,” she replied, moving into the bathroom to change. When she returned to the bedroom she was dressed in loose-fitting boxer shorts and a t-shirt.
“You shared my bed in New York and that worked out okay. I have no problem doing the same here.”
He rolled to his side and propped himself up on an elbow. “Okay, then I guess we’ve got a deal. I’ll stay.”
He stood slowly from the bed, his body painfully close to hers. She bit her bottom lip and stepped away.
“I’ll be in the shower, if you need me,” he smiled.
Annie sat on the bed. This was no different then New York, she told herself. So, why was her heart racing and her palms wet with perspiration? She pulled the clip from her hair and reached for her brush, only to realize she had left it in the bathroom.
She could hear the shower water running, as she approached the door. Pausing first, she dried her sweaty hands on her shorts. The knob turned easily in her hand and with trepidation she stepped into the steam filled room.
To her surprise he was not yet in the shower. Instead, he was standing before the sink, gazing into the mirror as if deciding whether he needed to shave. All clothing removed, he was gloriously naked. She gasped and quickly covered her mouth. It was the first time she had seen him naked in many weeks.
“I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I thought you’d be in the shower by now.”
He turned to face her. The more she blushed, the bigger his smile grew.
“Annie, you’ve seen me naked how many times, hundreds, probably thousands of times. Why does it shock you now?”
She reached for her brush on the counter beside the sink but his hand got to it first. He moved closer, until the front of his body almost pressed against hers. Then he pulled the brush through her hair, long languid strokes that made every strand of her hair tingle.
“I’ve always loved brushing your hair,” he whispered against her temple.
Tears bit at her eyes. She could feel his erection growing between them. Her bottom lip began to quiver. Her chest began to heave.
“Michael, please don’t.”
Reluctantly, he stopped. His eyes connected with hers. He saw the emotion balancing on the rim of her eyes and his heart sank. His touch still brought her to tears. He wondered if that would ever change. He ached for the day when he could love her completely, the way they used to, for hours on end.
“I’m sorry. I guess I shouldn’t have done that,” he sighed with regret.
She took the brush from his extended hand and left the bathroom. When the door closed, he muttered a continuous slur of curses that would have shocked just about anyone. Then he turned the shower temperature to cold and stepped beneath the spray.
That night he slept in an old pair of sweat pants but they were too hot. In the morning, he would ask Bonita to purchase several pair of men’s cotton pajama bottoms for him. The last thing he wanted was to pressure Annie with his nakedness in bed.
The next day he excused himself after breakfast, saying he had errands to do. Annie knew without asking he was on his way to his doctor’s office to have the blood tests done. At least she hoped he was.
When he was gone, Bonita poured herself a cup of coffee and sat at the kitchen table across from Annie.
“Okay, now we really talk,” Bonita smiled warmly.
“What do you want to talk about? I’ve already told you the details of my tour and all about the unexpected birth of Sammi. What else is there?”
“Why don’t you tell me what happened between you and Michael?”
Annie dropped her head to the half-eaten plate of scrambled eggs Bonita had prepared for her. “What makes you think something happened?”
Bonita reached across the table and touched Annie's forearm. “Let me tell you something, Dear. I've known Michael for a long, long time. He's the son Manuel and I were never fortunate to have ourselves but I couldn't love him any more if he were my blood son. I know his moods. I know his body language and I know something dreadful has happened. It was written all over his face this morning and it pours from your eyes now. So, tell me, Annie. Tell me what happened and maybe I can help.
Annie wiped her cheeks. “It’s too personal, Bonita. I don’t think Michael would want me talking about it.”
Bonita nodded and patted Annie’s arm again. “You’re probably right. But if it makes you feel better to talk about it, I’m a great listener.”
Bonita stood and took Annie’s plate to the sink. Annie cradled the coffee mug between her hands, studying the liquid inside it. Then without raising her head she blurted her statement.
“I caught him with a woman out in California.”
Bonita dropped the glass she was washing and jumped when it shattered. Muttering a string of heated Spanish slurs she began picking up the pieces of broken glass.
“Bastard,” she finally said in English.
“He can’t know I told you, Bonita.”
As she dried her hands on the apron tied around her wide waist, Bonita slowly turned to face Annie. “Anything you say stays between you and me. Okay?” She went back to the table and sat. “Are you okay?”
Annie nodded. “Funny, everyone keeps asking me that. I guess I’m okay. I think a better way to put it is, I’m coping with it. He begged for another chance but, to tell you the truth, I’m not sure I’m strong enough to follow through with it.”
“You should at least try for the sake of the baby.”
“Yes, I know. Part of me wants to believe he can be faithful but reality tells me differently. I’m not sure he’s capable of it or that I should try and force him to attempt a lifestyle that is obviously unnatural for him.”
Annie took a sip of her tea and shook her head. “I can tolerate a lot, but it ends with cheating and lying. I won’t raise a baby in that type of environment.”
“What are you saying?”
“I told him if he cheated again I was gone. Simple as that.”
“He loves you Annie. That woman means nothing to him.”
“Maybe so, but it hurts too much to share him. I won’t put myself through it again. It’s been months now and I still can’t bring myself to touch him or let him touch me. The thought of touching him makes me think of her and then I feel sick.”
Bonita forced a smile onto her pudgy face. “It will work out, you’ll see.”
“I’m not sure I share your positive thinking, Bonita.”
At the end of the week, Michael received word of a band meeting Brian was holding at his house. On impulse, he arrived early in hopes of resolving a few of the open issues between them from their stay in California. Brian’s housekeeper let him in and instructed him to head out to the sound studio. When Michael opened the door to the studio the lights and sound boards were off, the place was remarkably quiet.
“Hey, Bri, it’s me,” Michael called out, as he switched on the lights. When the rooms became illuminated, he heard muted curses from a back office. Then a young girl, no older then sixteen and dressed in a school uniform, slammed into him on her way out of the studio.
“What the hell are you doing?” Michael asked his friend in disgust.
“I should be asking you the same. The meeting isn’t scheduled for another hour,” he replied, tucking his shirt back into his pants. “Why the hell are you here so early?”
“I didn’t know I needed an appointment to see you,” Michael sneered.
“Yeah, whatever.” Brian answered, flopping his body onto a leather couch.
Michael picked up the latest issue of ‘Guitar World’ magazine and began flipping through the pages. “Does your wife know you’re screwing the babysitter?”
Brian shifted his weight on the couch. “She’s not the babysitter. She’s my sister-in-law’s step-daughter.”
Michael spun around and tossed the magazine back onto the coffee table. “You are one crazy motherfucker! She doesn’t even look legal, not to mention she’s related to you!”
“Not technically.” he shrugged ambivalently.
“So that makes it okay?”
“Fuck you,” Brian answered. “I really don’t give a shit what your opinion is. Truth is, she came on to me. Pranced around here for weeks in that damn uniform, practically begging to suck my dick. So I figured, what the hell, and threw her a couple of shots. Big fucking deal!”
Michael shook his head. “Yeah, and I’m sure your wife wouldn’t think it’s a big deal either.”
Brian rubbed at his groin. “Well, she’s not around and I have my needs, so what the hell am I supposed to do?”
“Jerk off!”
“Maybe you should have taken your own advice out in California. It probably would have eliminated the ass kissing you’re stuck doing to your wife now!”
Michael smiled knowingly. “I don’t mind ‘kissing’ her ass or any other part she wants kissed. It’s all good.”
“Who’s getting their ass kissed?” John, the drummer asked, as he strolled into the studio.
Brian glanced at this watch. “Doesn’t anyone come on time anymore?”
“Hey, for a change, I’m early,” John replied.
“That’s my point,” Brian reprimanded. “If I had wanted you to come at an earlier time, I would have said so!”
“Get over it,” Michael chimed in.
One by one, the others arrived and the meeting commenced. The subject of the recording didn’t come up until the end. Two out of the five voted to take the summer off before heading back into the recording studio and Michael was one of them. He also put his two cents worth in for finding an east coast studio to finish in rather than heading back to the west coast. Brian was not pleased and asked Michael to stay behind after the others left. As soon as they were alone, he was on him.
“What do you mean you refuse to record until the Fall?” Brian attacked.
“Don’t twist what I said. I’m not refusing to record but I won’t be going back to the west coast anytime soon. There’s no way in hell I’ll get Annie anywhere near that state now and I won’t go without her and the baby.”
“What about the album?”
Michael saw the rage building in his friend. Not wanting a major battle, he moved toward the door. “Sorry. She and the baby come first.”
Brian folded his arms across his chest. “I think your priorities are messed up.”
“No, I don't think so. I can live without this band. I can't say the same about Annie. That's the difference between us Bri'. Your life revolves around the band and everything else comes second. I think that's messed up.”
Michael opened the door and stepped out into the night air.
“You’re not the only guitarist in the world,” Brian yelled from the doorway.
Michael kept walking toward his car. “Do what ever you have to, Bri’. I’m not going back to the west coast.”
The bedroom was in darkness when Michael opened the door. As quietly as he could manage, he made his way toward the bathroom to undress. He showered quickly and made his way across the room to the bed.
“How’d the meeting go?” Annie asked when she felt the sheets pull back.
“Did I wake you?” he answered, sliding in beside her.
“No, I wasn’t really sleeping.”
He pulled her up close to his body and inhaled the scent of her skin. She had an instant calming effect over him. “Brian wants me to head back to the west coast and resume recording,” he said flatly. He felt Annie stiffen in his arms.
“What did you tell him?” she asked.
“I told him I wouldn’t go, and he didn’t like it. In fact, he threatened to hire another guitarist to finish the tracks. Can you believe that?”
“Michael, that doesn’t sound good.”
“He’ll get over it. Point is, there are plenty of studios right in this area we could use. He’s just throwing his weight around.”
“Did you want to go?” she asked quietly.
“Would you have come with me?”
“No. The west coast holds nothing but bad memories for me.”
“And, I wouldn’t have gone without you.” Annie rolled over and fell into a tight spoon position with him. She could feel his breath deepen against the nape of her neck.
“Michael?”
“Hmmm,” he replied lazily.
“You’re getting hard,” she smiled.
“I know. You should be used to that by now,” he answered. “Don’t worry. It doesn’t bite and I promise not to let him out of his cage.”
Her smile grew wider as she listened to him drift off to sleep.
Five days later, the envelope they had both been expecting arrived. Annie left it on the kitchen counter for Michael to open when he returned from his manager’s office. She was working in the music room when he drifted into the kitchen. She watched him sift through the mail, take the envelope from the lab and slide it into the back pocket of his jeans. Then he came to her and sat beside her on the piano bench.
“Working the ivories?” he asked with a smile, then kissed her lightly on the cheek.
“I love the sound of this piano. It makes the material sound better.”
“Did you see what came in the mail today?” he asked, pulling the envelope from his pants.
“Yes, I did.”
“Why didn’t you open it?” he questioned, ripping through the seal.
“It was addressed to you.”
He unfolded the letter and handed it to Annie. “Here, you read it. I already know what it says.”
She was nervous, more than she expected, as she took the paper from his hand. Then she scanned through the information and digested what she could. When she reached the bottom, she neatly re-folde
d the paper and handed it back to him. Emotion overwhelmed her and she began to cry. It wasn’t the reaction he anticipated and for a moment he allowed himself to think the worst.
He took the letter and quickly read the results. Every test was negative. Then he looked at her. “Everything is negative, babe. Doesn’t that make you happy?”
“Tremendously.”
“Then, why are you crying?”
“It’s bittersweet.”
“Why?”
“Because it reminds me of why you had to have the tests taken in the first place and that makes me sad.”
He stroked her back. “Please, Annie. Somehow we’ve got to try and put all this behind us. This paper proves it.”
“I know, and sometimes even I think I can move past it, but then something happens to stir a memory and it all comes rushing back to me.” She looked at his face and tried to smile. “I’m sorry. You’ve been so patient but sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever be able to put it behind me.” She looked away from him. “You could be waiting for nothing, only to have me leave in the end.”
He pressed his face close to her ear. “Don’t say things like that. If you think it will help, we can go to counseling, whatever it takes to make this work. I want it to work.”
Annie dropped her head to his shoulder, and he circled her with his arms.
Suddenly, Bonita appeared in the doorway of the music room with the telephone in her hand.
“What is it, Bonita?” Michael asked.
“It is Mr. Brian. He’s asking to speak with you.”
“Tell him I’m busy and I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”
Bonita mumbled her instructions into the receiver then pressed the phone against her stomach. “He says he will not wait.”
Michael pulled away from Annie and released a never ending sentence of curse words as he crossed the room.
“I said I was fucking busy! What the hell do you want now?” he shouted into the phone.
Michael paced the music room with the phone pressed to his ear. “I just saw you! Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”
Seconds later he threw the telephone at the couch in the corner of the room. “God damn it!” he screamed. That guy does nothing but bust my balls!”