Following him up the walkway, she took a deep breath of the crisp, clean air to clear the hospital stink from her nose, drinking in the beauty of the multi-colored flowers which flanked the stone path leading up to the front entryway. She glanced back at the tree-lined street whose bright, sunny sidewalks epitomized the perfect summer day. Shivering in the warm sunlight she realized that nothing, not even this beautiful Chelsea neighborhood, could make her forget the terrible events that brought her here.
Thom unlocked the front door and ushered her inside. The wood-paneled walls were covered in photographs, color and black and white, depicting everything from laughing children to lonely stretches of sandy beaches at sunrise. Deanna wanted to look at each photograph in detail but Thom called to her from the stairway, insisting she let him show her to her room so she could rest.
“Doctors’ orders,” he said when she started to protest.
He opened a door at the end of the hall and stepped inside, waiting for her to join him. As she entered she couldn't help but smile at the whimsical decor, dominated by colorful masks, brightly hued and glittery in the sunlit room. Shelves were decorated with ceramic and porcelain figurines of fairies and woodland animals cavorting and posing in ridiculously cute ways.
“Is this a child's room?” she asked, noticing the wooden Punch and Judy puppets hanging in the corner above a large handmade stage complete with velvet curtains.
“No,” Thom laughed. “The bloke who owns this flat is a photographer. That's his work decorating the walls downstairs. His wife is an artist.” Thom waved his hand around and continued, “She makes these masks and figurines for the shops on Kings Road and the High Street.”
“Are they friends of yours?” Deanna asked.
“Acquaintances, really. The photographer, David, took the band's photos for the cover of our album. He took photos at the Hammersmith Odeon concert as well. That bloke is absolutely brilliant with a camera.”
She nodded and smiled with delight at the all of the whimsical treasures decorating the sunny room.
Thom set her bags on the bed and asked her to follow him. He showed her to a bathroom down the hall which was decorated in cabbage roses and meandering vines, obviously hand-painted and very life-like.
“This is your private loo,” Thom said. “My bedroom and loo are on the ground floor so you have the first floor all to yourself.”
Deanna looked around and sighed, I can't believe how beautiful this place is. It's obvious that very talented artists lived here.” She reached out and clasped his hands. “I don't know how to thank you...,” she began but Thom shook his head and squeezed her hands.
“No thanks necessary. You're doing me a favor actually.”
“What do you mean?”
“David asked that someone be around to take care of Mims and seeing that I'm not very good with cats, well, I suppose you're Mims new caretaker---that is if you don't mind.” Thom smiled sheepishly.
“Mims?” Deanna laughed delightedly. “Where is she?”
“Probably hiding from the big, bad guitarist who mistakenly played a few ear-splitting notes of “Bone Crusher” last night without his headphones plugged into the amp, causing Mims to pee on David's Persian rug in terror.”
“Oh Thom, that's so mean!”
“I didn't do it on purpose. I simply forgot about poor little Mims.”
“What about the poor little neighbors?” Deanna asked and laughed when Thom shrugged and tried to look innocent.
“I'm going to try and find her. Show me where the cat food is. I bet she'll come running considering she probably hasn't eaten since you scared the piss out of her...literally,” Deanna said dryly.
They looked at each other and burst out laughing. She playfully slapped Thom's arm and pushed him towards the stairs so he could take her to the kitchen to get Mims some food. He opened a door leading into a large pantry and let her slip past. She checked each shelf and finally found the cans of cat food neatly stacked near the back of the first shelf. She chose tuna with egg and cheese, and handed it to Thom.
“I think you should open it and put it in her bowl as a peace offering,” Deanna said and crossed her arms.
Thom wrinkled his nose at the strong fishy smell that wafted from the can as he opened it and dumped it into a metal bowl embossed with “Mims” in large pink letters. A loud mewling sounded all around them when Thom placed the bowl on a placemat also sporting the cat's name.
“Mims,” Deanna called. “Here, Mims. Here, kitty, kitty.”
The mewing grew louder and continued while Deanna and Thom searched the flat for the traumatized and hungry cat. Thom went upstairs, looking in all of the closets and small spaces which might serve as the perfect hidey holes for a cat to secret itself in.
“I found her,” Deanna called from the bottom of the stairs.
She led Thom back to the kitchen and pointed up to the cabinet above the washing machine which held laundry soap and fabric softener. Two huge golden eyes stared down at them from behind a bag of clothespins.
“Come on down, Mims. Come on, sweetie,” Deanna coaxed gently.
The glowing golden eyes stared directly at Thom, as if accusing him of being responsible for their sad predicament so Deanna suggested he leave the kitchen just to see if Mims would come down. He looked slightly insulted by the cat’s refusal to forget his accidental assault on her overly sensitive ears, but he left the kitchen as requested. Deanna continued to call the cat softly and after a few minutes Mims ventured out from behind her temporary fortress formed by the overstuffed clothespin bag. She perched on the edge of the open cabinet for a moment before jumping down onto the washing machine and then to the floor, skirting Deanna's reaching hands to make her way to her food bowl. Deanna watched her gobble the food down and began to stroke her back, delighting in the feel of the cat's spine arching up to meet her hand. Mims was purring loudly so Deanna felt certain that she had gained her trust.
When Mims had eaten her fill, she meowed loudly and rubbed against Deanna's legs. The cat trotted out of the kitchen and stopped to meow at Deanna. She followed her into the living room and sat next to the cat after she jumped on the couch, kneading the cushions with her paws. Mims was a lovely flame-point Persian with long creamy fur and ginger accents on her round flat face, paws, and the end of her tail. It was apparent that she was well loved---her coat was glossy and she was quite plump, most likely from being fed table scraps by over-indulgent owners. The cat climbed into Deanna's lap and purred contentedly as she stroked her and scratched behind her ears.
Thom approached cautiously from the stairway where he had been sitting like a dejected outcast. Mims meowed once and then closed her eyes, enjoying Deanna's attention. There was a brush on the coffee table which he picked up and handed to Deanna before settling into an overstuffed chair across from the couch. He watched Deanna brush Mims, her long, delicate fingers running through the cat's lush fur after each brush stroke. Closing his eyes, he envisioned those beautiful hands stroking his long, thick hair. How marvelous her fingertips would feel against his neck and scalp. For a brief moment he actually felt jealous of Deanna's attention to Mims. He was a bit surprised by the whirlwind of emotions whipping through him as he watched the stunning Yank work her magic on the cat. How could he have forgotten that night at Trevor's party? A vision in blue satin, Deanna breezed into the room and he forgot to breathe as time stood still...until Nigel trailed in behind her. What he would have given to have a chance with the American beauty, but Nigel had gotten there first, charming her into submission with his high voltage smile, and his phony snake-oil salesman pitch. Given time she would forget all about that self-serving bastard. The prat would never have the power to hurt her again.
Light was filtering through the living room shutters. A shaft of bright sunshine played against Deanna's eyelids, waking her. Mims was nestled against her belly, Thom was snoring softly in a chair across from her, and she realized they had all fallen asleep in the living room. She
stretched and yawned before sitting up, waking Mims who mewed as if to ask why she was disturbing her catnap. All she wanted was coffee---sweet, milky coffee with lots of sugar and a dash of cinnamon to take away any bitterness. She stumbled to the kitchen, Mims close at her heels, and searched for a coffee pot but all she found was an electric tea kettle. She sifted through the contents of a couple of cabinets and found two oversized mugs which she placed on the countertop. Mims cried insistently and wound around her legs so she opened the refrigerator and found a carton of cream, pouring a generous amount into Mim’s water bowl. While the cat slurped her fattening treat, Deanna hunted for teabags, finally locating them in the pantry.
While the water heated up she went to the living room to wake Thom and ask what he wanted for breakfast. She reached down to shake his arm but abruptly pulled her hand back. With his flowing blonde hair and perfectly chiseled features, he looked like an archangel from a renaissance painting. She couldn't believe that this was the first time since their fateful meeting that she had noticed what an incredibly handsome guy the guitarist was. Where was the equally beautiful femme fatale whose sole purpose would be to hover and fawn over the gorgeous musician while she waited on him hand and foot? Why had he had invited damaged goods to share his space? And not only damaged, but rendered incapable of feeling anything but shame and regret by a love gone wrong with the lead singer of his band, Metal Urge.
Deanna moved to the couch and sat down, watching Thom sleep. She vaguely remembered a heated exchange between him and Nigel before he took her away. She ran her hands through her hair and over her face not wanting to recall anything else, especially the horrifying events after they left Nigel's flat. Being here with Thom and Mims had helped to ease the hollow ache in her soul left by the loss of her baby. She had even laughed and teased Thom after he admitted what he had unwittingly done to the poor cat. For the first time in days she felt a semblance of normalcy. The pain was there but it wasn't the agonizing nightmare that had tormented her unceasingly while she lay in that cold, soulless hospital ward. Those simple, comforting exchanges helped her to forget for a while, even affording her enough peace to sleep soundly without the terrible dreams she had suffered in that lonely hospital bed. There was no way she could ever repay Thom for all he had done, and was still doing for her. Deanna felt the prickle of tears and blinked them away, afraid that if she started to cry, she might never stop, and they would all drown in the unfathomable depths of her sorrow.
Without warning, Mims streaked in from the kitchen and jumped onto Thom's chest, jolting him awake.
“What the fuck!” He yelled.
Mims scrambled over his shoulder and leapt off of the chair, racing away before he could grab her and throttle her for scaring him.
“Payback’s a bitch,” Deanna said austerely.
Thom stared at her in bewilderment as she got up and announced that she would make scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast for breakfast. The tea kettle whistled shrilly and Deanna laughed at the goofy look on Thom's face as she walked away feeling the negative thoughts fade while chuckling over Mims’ clever payback stunt. There was no doubt she was right where she needed to be. Soon she would feel strong enough to begin putting the shattered pieces of her life back together. She had Thom McCordy to thank for that. That and his selfless act of offering sanctuary to a stupid, naive girl who had lost her way with no hope of finding her way back until now.
“I'm going to take a shower,” Tom announced from the kitchen entryway.
“Don't take too long. Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes,” she said while breaking eggs into a large ceramic bowl. “Do you like omelets?”
He nodded, his eyes scanning the room for Mims who was hiding behind Deanna's legs, golden eyes wide with fear. He pointed at the cat and growled, “You’d better watch your furry back you little slag.”
“Thom!” Deanna scolded. She shooed him out of the kitchen and they both laughed when Mims peeked around the entryway with a wary look.
“I'm just teasing you, Miss mucky-muck,” Thom said to the cat and reached down to pet her silky head. She shied away at first but soon began to purr as he scratched under her chin and murmured silly endearments to put her at ease. “Have we reached a truce?” he asked Mims who meowed in answer. Thom stood up and grinned at Deanna. “Alright then, I'm off to the shower.”
Deanna shook her head and chuckled as she returned to the kitchen to finish preparing breakfast. The omelet bubbled as she spread shredded cheddar cheese over the top, and she heard her stomach growl. Just as she placed two slices of bread in the toaster the doorbell rang. She called out for Thom to answer it but realized he was still in the bathroom. She grabbed a towel to wipe her hands and ran to the door, opening it. Metal Urge's drummer, Jayson Rawley and a pretty red-haired girl looked at her quizzically before apologizing for having the wrong address.
“Are you looking for Thom McCordy?” she asked Jayson.
“Yeah. This is the address he gave me but, uh,” he stammered and Deanna smiled and opened the door, gesturing for them to come in.
“This is Thom's flat,” she said and cleared her throat. “I'm staying here for a while...just until I find a new place.” She could feel her face reddening as Jayson raised his eyebrows and glanced at the redhead standing next to him, her arm linked through his.
“I smell something burning,” the girl said.
Deanna cursed and ran to the kitchen, grabbing the blackened pan which was smoking furiously off of the burner and shoving it under the faucet to try and staunch the foul, billowing smoke. In her panic she forgot to grab a pot holder and the red hot handle seared the palm of her hand, the metal sticking to her sizzling flesh. She cried out in pain and dropped the pan in the sink just as Thom rushed in to see what had caused all of the smoke. He scooped up a glob of butter from a nearby butter dish and grabbed her hand, slathering her blistering skin with the oily mess. The girl handed Thom a cold, wet cloth and he pressed the dripping cloth against Deanna's palm.
“Hold this against your hand for a few minutes.” He said and turned to the redhead. “Cheers, Penny.”
She nodded and looked at Deanna who was grimacing with pain. “Will she be alright or d'you think we should call a doctor?”
“No doctors please,” Deanna whimpered, tears rolling down her cheeks.
Thom eased her hand open and sucked in his breath. “This is bad, love. We've got to get you to the emergency room.”
Ignoring her pleas, Thom made sure the cooker was off and hustled her out of the flat and into his car. Jayson and Penny climbed in the backseat and Penny rubbed Deanna’s shoulders, assuring her everything was going to be fine.
Although hospital staff took Deanna to a room almost immediately, the three antsy friends still spent hours waiting while she was treated in the burn unit. The doctor didn't feel it was necessary for her to stay overnight, but he was adamant that she return to have the bandages changed the following afternoon. He would re-assess the situation at that time. He gave Deanna a prescription for painkillers and released her into Thom's care with strict instructions to bring her back the next day. This clumsy accident was the second time that the poor guy had been forced to rescue her from a “burning building” in little more than a week, and Deanna wouldn't be surprised if he dropped her off at the nearest hotel, washing his hands of her for good. She was like the Flying Dutchman of medical mishaps. It was mortifying. She rested her head against the car seat and watched the city lights refract into prisms of color against the window.
Thom reached over to pat her arm and she pulled away in embarrassment. Unable to understand why she flinched from his touch, he felt hurt that she refused to let him try and comfort her. He wondered briefly if she would welcome Nigel's touch, but refused to waste any more time on that nonsense---it would only serve to increase his escalating hatred for his old, boyhood mate. For the sake of Metal Urge, he had to remain neutral. Trevor had made it perfectly clear that he would take legal action against ea
ch and every band member if they broke their contract by any means---brawling or otherwise. A tour of the States in October, and two more albums---he could live with that. What choice did he have? This war was between him and Nigel; the other three lads were innocent bystanders, and he would never do anything to hurt them. “Bide your time and carry on;” a silly phrase his dad loved to say when times got tough. Yeah, he’d bide his time until he could throw Nigel out of the band once and for all, and Metal Urge would carry on quite nicely without the worthless sod.
Penny helped Deanna undress and slip into her nightgown so she wouldn't have to use her injured hand. As the girl tucked the bedclothes around her, Deanna smiled and said, “You've been so kind. I'm embarrassed to say I don't even know your name.”
The pretty redhead smiled at her sweetly, “I’m Penny Laine’.”
Deanna couldn't help but giggle and Penny shrugged, grinning widely. “The only saving grace is that my surname is spelled L.A.I.N.E., otherwise I would've been scarred for life.”
Both girls laughed as Penny handed Deanna a pain pill and a glass of water. She gladly took the pill, hoping it would ease the hot, throbbing agony in her hand which had returned with a vengeance, as well as the renewed pain in her aching womb. It was unbelievable how quickly the shot she was given at the hospital had worn off.
There was a soft knock and Penny asked who it was. Thom identified himself, asking if he could come in. Penny said good night to Deanna letting Thom in as she left the room. Happy to see him, Deanna patted the bed inviting him to sit next to her.
“I'm so sorry,” she said.
“Whatever for, darlin'?” He brushed a stray curl away from her cheek just as he had done when she was in the hospital, so alone and vulnerable that it broke his heart.
“I've caused you nothing but trouble. I mean, that's how we met isn't it? If I were you I'd run for the hills.”
“Actually, we were introduced at a music rehearsal last May,” he reminded her. “It was a couple of weeks before the band left for Glaston Hall. I recall being very impressed by your grace and beauty.”
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