Sheet Music - A Rock 'n' Roll Love Story

by Ann Lister

  “Michael, do you remember what the doctors did to save my foot? Well, the doctors here did something similar for your arm except in your case they were working with nerves and bone.”

  He shut his eyes and skewed his face. “It feels like they cut it off! Maybe they should have.”

  “They were nervous of infection and wanted to amputate, Michael, but I refused to sign the paperwork. I told them who you were and what you did for a living and demanded they go back into surgery and do whatever was necessary to save your arm.”

  He sighed heavily and rubbed at his forehead. Stress marred his otherwise rugged features. “How long will I be living with this cast?”

  “I’m not sure. It depends on how fast you heal.” Annie lowered her head and toyed with her fingernails. “There’s something else about the surgery that I have to tell you, Michael.” She swallowed around the lump of emotion in her throat and met his stare. “The bullet hit you just below your shoulder and did a lot of damage to the bone on the way out of your body. They weren’t able to repair all of it and they won’t know the full extent of the damage until you heal.”

  He gazed at her blankly and blinked. “What the hell does that mean?”

  She fidgeted in her chair and exhaled. “It means, you might not regain all the feeling in your fingertips.”

  He turned his head toward the window and squeezed his eyes tight. For several minutes he was quiet. She watched his chest rise and fall and wanted more than anything to know what he was thinking. Quietly, she began to cry.

  “I couldn’t save him,” he said, his voice soft and wounded.

  Annie bent over him and pressed her face to his cheek. “Yes, I know, sweetheart, and I’m very proud you were brave enough to try. You took a bullet for him and risked your own life for his.”

  His gaze returned to the window. “How’s Barbara?”

  “She’s grateful you were there with him and that he didn’t have to die alone. She’s also thrilled you’re going to be okay.”

  “Did I miss his funeral?”

  “No, it’s on Sunday.”

  He reached for her hand. “I need you to make the proper arrangements with the doctors to get me released in time for that.”

  Annie shook her head. “Oh, I don’t think they’ll agree to that, Michael.”

  “They have to.”

  “I’ve already discussed it with them and they all agreed it is too soon and too risky to move you.”

  “I don't give a shit what they think! It's my arm, and if what you're saying is true, I won't be able to feel much of anything anyway so how much more damage could I possibly do to it?”

  She pushed the hair off his forehead. “Lets not argue, Michael. I’ve been so worried about you.” Tears pooled in her eyes as she pressed his fingers against her cheek. She watched the muscles in his face soften and he seemed to relax. Emotion made his eyes glisten.

  “How’s Sammi?” he asked, almost breathless with sentiment.

  “I swear she grows an inch every day.”

  He forced a smile to his lips. “I guess life really does go on.”

  Annie wiped a lone tear that threatened to spill from his eye. “Yes, it does.” She moved closer and kissed his mouth. “I want you to get better so you’ll be able to hold her when you get home.”

  Michael made it to Brian’s funeral and surprised everyone when he stood to give the eulogy. He spoke softly of the day they met and of the many years they shared and lived and worked together as brothers. Many in attendance laughed at his recalled memories but most wept knowing that there would be no more memories made. It was the end of something magical and mystical: the conclusion of an era in rock ‘n’ roll history, the significance of which rated up there with the demise of Elvis Presley and John Lennon.

  After the cemetery, Annie got Michael to agree to go home and rest. Michael approached Barbara to say good-bye. Barbara reached out and stroked his cheek.

  “Michael, you look exhausted and your arm must be throbbing by now.”

  He shrugged. “A little bit.”

  “Have Annie take you home and I’ll stop over to see you in a few days.”

  He moved closer and slid his good arm around her slender waist. “I’m only five minutes away. If you need anything, call.”

  Barbara ran her fingers down his cheek. “I’m really scared, Michael. I can’t remember what it was like without him in my life.”

  “I know, me neither,” he sighed, kissing her forehead. “This will be the hardest thing either of us has had to work through.”

  Barbara nodded and pressed her face against his chest.

  Annie watched the scene play out between them and wished she were closer in order to hear what they were discussing. Whatever it was, it was intimate. Too intimate, she thought, with touches that seemed all too familiar to them. It was as if they were old lovers. Jealousy began to simmer in Annie’s stomach. Ashamed of herself for thinking the worst, she turned away.

  In the car, Michael was quiet. Annie wanted more than anything to question him about his conversation with Barbara, but she didn’t. It would do nothing but cause an argument. By the time they pulled into their driveway, he was sleeping beside her in the passenger seat. She helped him into bed, and he slept for what seemed like days. The only time he left the bedroom was for a doctors appointment, and that was after much protesting.

  After two weeks, his routine had more to do with hiding from reality than with his recovery. He had managed to shut everyone out of his life, including Annie, and even refused to see visitors. No matter what she said or did, it seemed to cause an argument.

  He had searing pains and tingling sensations that intermittently shot through his arm all hours of the night and day; which kept him from sleeping soundly. Most often, he would sleep on the family room couch. He refused the pain medication offered by the doctors, wanting to tough it out by himself. But each day that passed, he sank into a deeper depression.

  “Michael, lets go for a drive and take Sammi to the park or something,” Annie suggested, sliding the bedroom drapes open to illuminate the darkened room. “It’s gorgeous outside and you could use some fresh air and sunshine.”

  He rolled away from her in bed and barely acknowledged her presence. “I don’t want to. Go without me.”

  Annie sat on the edge of the bed. “And, I don’t want to go alone.”

  “Then find someone else to go with you and let me sleep.”

  Annie stood from the bed. Tears burned in her eyes. She carefully smoothed her summer sundress down over her hips and headed for the door.

  “Shut the damn curtains on your way out, please,” he mumbled.

  The tone of his voice caused rage to fill her body. She stomped across the room to the wide expanse of windows, then deliberately opened the drapes further and pushed open the French doors, filling the room with sunlight and the scents of summer.

  Michael propped himself up on his good arm. “What the hell did you do that for?” he yelled.

  Annie spun around and faced him. “It’s been weeks, Michael. It’s time you got out of bed and out of this house! Now, get your ass dressed. We’re going for a drive.”

  She stormed from the room before he had time to reply and went down to the kitchen. She paced nervously, wondering if he would come down at all. Thirty minutes later, he finally appeared, wearing an old pair of sweat pants, bare-chested, and ungroomed. His eyes met hers with an angry glare. Annie felt her blood turn cold.

  “You’re not dressed,” she said quietly, refusing to back down.

  Without looking at her, he poured himself a cup of coffee. “And I have no intention of getting dressed,” he answered. He took the newspaper from the kitchen table and headed upstairs, and presumably back to bed.

  Annie began to follow, but the ring of the telephone interrupted her plan.

  “Hello.”

  “Hi, Annie. It’s Barbara.”

  Hearing a familiar voice, Annie sighed heavily. “Hi Barb
ara. How are you doing?”

  “Okay. Every day is different. I have my good days and then there are those days I’d like to forget. How is Michael doing?”

  Annie sat at the breakfast bar and ran her free hand through her hair. “Not too good. I mean, physically, he’s healing nicely. He got a new cast put on which is much smaller and easier for him to cope with. And his doctors are pleased and hopeful with the results of their surgery too. But emotionally, he’s a mess. He won’t leave the house, let alone the bedroom, and refuses to visit with anyone that should happen to stop by. All he wants to do is sleep and argue.”

  “I figured as much, since he hasn’t called me. I suspect he’s in for a rough ride dealing with this.”

  “I even suggested he get professional help to deal with his loss and that about started World War III. All I’m trying to do is help and he keeps pushing me further away.”

  “They were a lot like brothers, Annie. There’s a big void there now; which I’m sure he’s finding out, as I am.”

  “How are your kids doing?” Annie asked.

  “Okay. The youngest clearly doesn’t understand. She wants to know when Daddy is coming home. I think she believes he’s on tour or something. The oldest…well, he too has been spending a lot of time in his room. It’s gonna take time for all of us.”

  “Well, I’m at my wit’s end. I’ve run out of ideas to help him, and besides, he doesn’t seem to want any help. The baby is already three months old and I’m not even sure he cares.”

  “Of course he cares, Annie. Before Brian died, all Michael talked about was being a father again.”

  Annie sighed heavily. “Michael’s son was supposed to stay with us for a month this summer and I don’t dare have him come now - considering Michael’s condition. I told our lawyer to reschedule the visit with John until after Michael is healed.”

  “Well, maybe I can help Michael work through this,” Barbara suggested.

  “How so?”

  “I’ve got dozens of boxes packed with Brian’s personal stuff that Michael could browse through. He can have anything he wants in them. The rest I’ll either throw out or save for the kids. It might help him to see some of it. If nothing else, it will get him out of the house.”

  “I’m not sure that will help, Barbara. It might only make things worse if he’s confronted with the memories he shared with Brian.”

  “We can take it one day at a time. If it seems too overwhelming for him, I’ll send him home. But, to be perfectly honest with you, I’d love the company. With the kids visiting my sister, the house is awfully empty. I would love to hear the sound of a man’s voice around here.”

  Annie thought about the proposal. She wasn’t sure how she felt about Michael spending ‘private’ time alone with Barbara reliving memories from their past, but something had to change. “I can’t make any promises, Barbara. All I can do is run the idea by him, and what he decides to do is anyone’s guess.”

  She hung up the phone and remained deep in thought. Barbara wanted the sound of a male voice in her house. Annie had a man living in her house and she craved the same.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Annie made her way up the front staircase and into the master suite. Michael was out of bed and sitting in a chair on the deck off the bedroom. At least he was in the sun, she thought.

  He saw her coming and set his coffee mug down on an end table beside the chair. “Look, if you came back to harass me about going for a ride, I’m not in the mood.”

  “Barbara called,” Annie stated flatly. Michael’s eyes immediately went soft. “When did she call?”

  “Just now.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me she was on the phone?”

  “Like everyone else that has called here lately, I didn’t think you’d want to talk to her,” Annie replied.

  “Don’t assume you know what I want, Annie,” he answered coldly, sipping his coffee.

  Tears quickly formed in her eyes. “Michael.”

  He heard the quiver in her voice and looked up from his paper.

  “Every day that passes I feel like you want me here less and less. If that’s what you want, I’ll throw some things in a bag and head back to New York this afternoon because I can’t take much more of your attitude. Nothing I do is right and you seem hell bent on pushing me away when all I’m trying to do is help.”

  He rolled his eyes at her, which only fueled her fire. “I don’t want you to leave but I would like you to back the hell off.”

  “Go to hell,” she spat.

  She spun to leave but Michael caught her by the arm and stood, getting right into her face. His face contorted with an anger he hadn’t felt in quite some time.

  “Look, I'm trying to deal with this by myself and maybe you think I'm doing a shitty job, but considering I lost my brother and my career all with the same bullet, I think I'm dealing with it just fine! Thanks for asking.”

  Annie stepped away, putting space between herself and his fury. “The point is, you don’t have to deal with this by yourself! There are plenty of people that are more than willing to help you get through this; for example, me. God damn it, I’m your wife and you won’t even open up to me!”

  He reached out and pulled her against his chest. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, kissing her temple. “This is more than I ever thought I’d have to deal with in my lifetime and it hurts. It hurts a lot. I hated him on more days than I loved him but, now that he’s gone, I can’t think of anything else. I miss him.”

  Annie crumbled against his body. It was the first time in weeks he had touched her or expressed any real affection. “I know you do. We all do.”

  “Then understand that what I need right now is time and lots of space. It’s the only way I know how to deal with this. That doesn’t mean it’s the right way to grieve but it’s the best way for me. Okay?”

  She nodded and dried her cheeks. “Barbara said if you’re feeling up to it, she has some boxes with Brian’s things you can go through.”

  Michael sat back in the chair and rubbed at his chin. “I don’t know. I’ll have to think about that.”

  “Do whatever makes you comfortable,” she answered and left the deck.

  An hour later, Michael appeared down stairs, freshly showered and shaved. He had on a clean pair of jeans and a white t-shirt that matched the plaster cast on his left arm. The keys to the car jingled in his hand. Annie jumped at the sight of him.

  “I’ve decided to take Barbara up on her offer,” he spoke softly.

  “Okay. Do you want me to drive you over there?” Annie asked, standing from a chair.

  “No. I think I can handle it.”

  Annie stepped closer. “Are you sure? The doctors don’t want you driving.” Instantly, she saw him tense and back away.

  “Yes, I believe I can handle it.”

  She followed him to the front door. Part of her was thrilled he was actually leaving the house but another part wanted to go with him. Her heart ached for any scrap of attention he might give to her but instead, he was going to Barbara. When the door closed behind him, she cried for hours.

  The first visit led to a second and then a third. Annie thought the trip down memory lane was meant as a one-time offer for Michael and began to question Barbara’s intentions. As far as she was concerned, he was spending too much time at Barbara’s house and not enough time with her and the baby. Her jealous streak was getting the best of her.

  Annie and Bonita were doing the last of the lunch dishes when Michael entered the kitchen. He was dressed and ready to leave again.

  “Where are you going?” Annie asked, setting down a glass onto the counter.

  “Where do you think?” Michael answered with sarcasm as he collected his keys from the counter.

  “I thought you were going to the beach this afternoon with Sammi and me.”

  Feeling uncomfortable with Annie and Michael’s raised voices, Bonita beat a hasty retreat into the laundry room.

  “D
oes that have to be today?” he asked.

  “I suppose not, but that’s not the point. You said we’d all go together.”

  “Well, I’ve already promised Barbara I would start cataloging the shit in the studio today.”

  “Does that have to be done today?”

  “Annie, I’m sorry. We can go tomorrow. Does it really matter if we don’t go today?”

  Annie turned her back to him and shrugged her shoulders. “I’ll take Sammi by myself,” she said with disappointment. “I’m getting used to doing things with her by myself.”

  “Look, I’m doing the best I can to keep everyone happy, Annie!”

  Hearing his words, Annie spun around in anger. “I'm your wife! As far as I'm concerned, I should be the only one you should worry about keeping happy.”

  “Can we argue about this later?” he asked, drifting toward the door.

  “Go to hell.” The slam of the door echoed in her head for several minutes. Feeling angry and dejected, she called Barbara’s house.

  “Michael?” Barbara chirped.

  “No, it’s me, Annie. But rest assured, he’s on his way.”

  “Is there a problem?” Barbara asked, sensing the hostile tone in Annie’s voice.

  “I don’t know. You tell me.”

  “I’m not sure I know where this is going, Annie.”

  “Then I’ll get right to the point. I don’t like Michael spending so much time at your house. Emotionally, his visits over there seemed to have helped slightly, but I need him here too. Sammi needs him. And I get the impression he thinks you need him there every day. I want you to tell him that you don’t.”

  “Annie, Michael is a grown man capable of deciding what he wants to do. As long as I’ve known him, he has never done anything or gone anywhere that he didn’t want to.”

  “So, what are you suggesting, that he prefers being there with you more than being home here with me and the baby? And more to the point, what exactly are you offering that keeps him going back to your house every day?”