Metal Urge

by Wilbourn, E. D.

  “I lied to you, Thom. I never told my parents about my miscarriage. I don’t think they could have survived such shocking news.”

  He nodded, understanding why she would keep that painful secret from them.

  Deanna brushed her fingertips down his cheeks and along his jaw line. “It hurts me to say this to you, but my parents will condemn you for playing what they call the devil’s music. They will never accept your long hair, or your clothes, and they’ll never accept you as their daughter’s husband.”

  “Are you trying to say that you’ve changed your mind?”

  “No, absolutely not!” She hugged him tightly. “I love you, and I can’t wait to be your wife.”

  “So, let’s get married this weekend,” he blurted out impulsively.

  “But we haven’t made any plans…”

  “Why mess about? We can get a license in London tomorrow, arrange for a vicar in Bilston, get married at my dad’s house, and perhaps spend a couple of days in Brighton after. If you fancy a proper wedding we can plan that later.”

  “But, my parents...,” she whimpered.

  He cupped her chin and smiled. “All your parents need to know is that I love you with all of my heart and soul. I’ll take care of you, protect you, and do everything in my power to give you the life you’ve always dreamed of and deserve.” He smiled at her and shook his head. “That sounded like a rehearsed speech, but I meant every word of it, Deanna.”

  “I know you did, my love. It’s just that I really want my parents to be here to see their only child get married to the most wonderful man in the world.” She hugged him tightly, “Despite what I've told you, I really love my mom and dad, and I miss them like crazy.” She straightened up and wiped her eyes. “You've obviously thought a lot about this. I love that you’ve planned it all out in such perfect detail even if it is a bit spur-of-the moment. I just wish...” She stopped herself from saying the hurtful words that would bring more pain and tears and leaned into his embrace.

  “I’ve been planning for you all my life, sweet girl,” he whispered against her soft curls. “Don't you know that?”

  Chapter 30

  The five men were talking quietly from their makeshift seating on the stage when Thom entered the rehearsal hall. Andy Trent called out a greeting as he trotted up to meet him, draping his arm around Thom’s shoulders. “We thought something had happened to you.”

  “Sorry about that, lads,” Thom said as he made his way onstage. He laid his guitar case down and undid the clasps while everyone watched him curiously. It was completely unlike Thom to be late for rehearsal. Especially an important rehearsal meant to gear up for recording their next single, “Beyond the Darkness” at Glaston Hall before they were off to America.

  “Well?” Brad asked him.

  Thom set the guitar on its stand and looked at each one of his band mates, his gaze lingering on Nigel’s puzzled face, dreading the fallout from what he was about say. “I was talking to my dad about a rather important matter…you see I'm getting married at his home tomorrow.”

  “Deanna said yes!” Jayson shouted and ran over to give Thom a congratulatory thump on the back.

  Alistair and Brad looked at each other in surprise, and then at Nigel who got up from his chair and left the stage.

  Andy stared helplessly as Nigel headed for the entrance of the rehearsal hall and disappeared through the door without a word on whether or not he planned to return. “What…?” Andy sputtered.

  Alistair shook his head, finger pressed to his lips. Andy shrugged and stared at the door wondering if Nigel was going to walk back in with a bottle of champagne to celebrate or what. This could not be happening now---not on the eve of the band recording their new single and their first tour. Brad patted Andy's shoulder and steered him toward Thom who was shaking Alistair’s hand and grinning from ear to ear, obviously chuffed.

  “It'll be alright, mate,” Thom assured a sweating and trembling Andy Trent. He directed Andy to a chair before apologizing to his band mates for being unable to invite them to the nuptials. “It’s just a family affair because the wedding's taking place on such short notice. When we get back from our tour of the States I promise we’ll have a blow-out party so Deanna and I can properly celebrate with our friends.”

  Everyone assured him that they understood completely and when it became apparent that Nigel was not coming back they decided to rehearse as best they could without him. It wasn’t the ideal situation but what choice did they have?

  The band played for almost two hours before Nigel returned sporting his mirrored sunglasses which he didn’t remove for the rest of the evening. The smell of alcohol wafting from him was strong, but he performed flawlessly, his vocals driven by a raw, razor-edged emotional power that he had never possessed before. His band mates reckoned that he must be hurting, but he forged on with a professionalism that would have knocked the skeptical Trevor Hampton on his arse had he witnessed it. They were all proud of him, especially Thom. He'd been knocking about the idea of having a talk with Nigel so they could try and mend the rift between them---they were no longer rivals after all. He didn’t want to rub his old mate's face in his victory, but Nigel would probably feel that he was doing just that. Although Nigel had broken it off with Deanna, he still acted as though she should be hanging about like a love-sick puppy. Stupid, juvenile behavior for a bloke who always liked to be in control---there was no doubt about that. Still, he wanted his best mate back, and he was willing to wait until Nigel came to terms with losing Deanna once and for all.

  ****

  The drive to Bilston was tiring in the cramped little Mini. Thom made a few stops to get out and stretch his legs. Deanna had never attempted to drive in England and had no English driver’s license so she couldn’t give him the much needed breaks he required. Part of the problem was his desire to put as much distance between them and London as possible making it difficult for him to relax and enjoy the drive. Visions of Deanna demanding that he turn around and take her back to London plagued him. It was irrational, but he still felt terrified that she would change her mind. He feared he might never shake off the feeling that she would bolt at the first opportunity because she was still in love with Nigel. He had watched the two of them closely during the weeks Nigel spent at their flat co-writing “Beyond the Darkness” with him. There was never any indication that anything covert was going on between them. They were polite to one another, but they never engaged in any lengthy conversation or stole secretive glances when they thought he wasn’t looking. It was all business and apparently no pleasure was involved. It was during those weeks that he realized how much he missed Nigel’s friendship, and on the rare occasions they shared a joke or looked at each other in complete synchronicity regarding their new song, Thom realized what an absolute bastard he had been. He regretted his behavior even though it had been necessary at the time, and wondered if Nigel would ever be willing to forgive him.

  It took a moment for him to realize that he was seeing the hazy lights of Wolverhampton in the distance. He reached over to gently prod Deanna’s arm to wake her. She had fallen asleep a couple of hours earlier and he reluctantly let her sleep while he wallowed in his dark, paranoid thoughts. That probably wasn’t the best idea but he knew she was tired after working extra hours this week so he let her slumber on while his mind spun round and round until he was almost dizzy. Thom left the M6 motorway heading towards Bilston where his father still lived in the house he and his sister grew up in. He was anxious to see his dad but the awful memories of the tragedy that tore their family asunder in that house sent chills up his spine. It was so much easier to ignore what had happened to his sister, and soon after to his poor grieving mum when he was miles away. As he pulled up in front of the perfectly manicured front yard an iron fist squeezed his heart until the pain became almost unbearable.

  Deanna stirred and stretched her arms, smiling sweetly at him. “Are you okay?” She looked at him with concern as he clutched the steerin
g wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white.

  “Yeah, of course,” he said, willing his death grip on the steering wheel to relax. She didn’t know how his mum or his sister died or why, and he wasn’t about to tell her on the night before their impromptu wedding. Instead, he pointed at a light shining brightly in the downstairs window of the house and laughed. “No matter how old I was, dad would leave a light on so the house wouldn‘t be dark when I got home. I reckon old habits die hard, yeah?”

  The front door opened and a very handsome gentleman who looked much younger than his fifty years came bounding out to meet Deanna and Thom as they unloaded their luggage from the boot of the car. The similarity between father and son was immediately apparent, and Deanna realized that she was looking into the face of her husband-to-be roughly twenty-five years in the future. Ian McCordy’s blonde hair had only a touch of gray at the temples, his physique was still fit and toned, and when he gathered her in a tight hug, she could feel his vigorous strength.

  “So lovely to meet you, darlin’.” Thom has told me so much about you, I feel as though I’ve known you all my life.”

  Ian McCordy’s voice still carried traces of his Irish heritage, the country where he was born and raised until age thirteen. His blue eyes sparkled with genuine welcoming warmth and Deanna took to him immediately. She watched as father and son embraced, her eyes filling with tears at the love she saw in Ian’s eyes when he pulled back and looked at Thom.

  “My boy, it is so good to have you home again.”

  “It’s good to be home, Da,” Thom said reverting back to the Irish term for “dad.”

  Thom gathered up their luggage, and Ian offered his arm to Deanna. She smiled shyly and slid her arm through his as they walked up to the house. Once inside she couldn’t help but smile at all of the knick knacks so lovingly placed all around the rooms. The house was immaculate. Not a speck of dust anywhere and nothing out of place. It was obvious Ian McCordy was house proud as the British would say. Considering the man’s good looks, his clean and tidy personal habits, and his charm, she found it hard to believe he had never re-married until she spotted a picture of a stunningly beautiful woman with perfect golden hued skin, huge doe eyes, and long, dark hair, so thick it almost overpowered her tiny frame. Deanna suddenly understood that no other woman could ever compete with Thom’s mother.

  Ian carried a large tray out of the kitchen and cocked his head towards the dining room so that she and Thom would follow him. The intoxicating smell of strong, dark tea filled the room as Ian poured cream into their cups along with a couple of sugar cubes before filling the cups with the fragrant brew. Deanna breathed in the heady scent and sighed. Surely this tea would calm her frazzled nerves. It had been a whirlwind evening after Thom returned from rehearsal and they began their preparations for the “big day.” This was not how she imagined her wedding day: three guests sitting in a tiny garden in Bilston while she and Thom said their vows in front of a Vicar neither of them knew. No other family, with the exception of Thom's uncle and aunt; no friends…not one familiar face. She had to blink back tears, hoping neither Thom nor his dad noticed. To her relief, they were deep in conversation, not paying her any attention at the moment.

  She excused herself and went upstairs to the bedroom Ian had pointed out was hers. She took the dress she had purchased at a tiny bohemian shop in Chelsea out of its bag. As she laid the dress on the bed, the fabric was soft and sumptuous in her hands. She loved the feminine feel of it against her palms and between her fingers. After carefully smoothing it out over the embroidered bedspread, she stepped back to get a detailed look at the beautiful dress. The bodice was fabricated in soft ivory velvet, with pink satin ribbon laced through small, gold grommets running up the center of the velvet which could be cinched tightly to accentuate her trim waistline. Long sleeves made of delicate hand-made lace in the same ivory shade and embellished with pink and white seed pearls trailed down to a wide bell shape. She picked up the dress and pressed it against her body, admiring the way the top was designed to drape off of her shoulders while billowy, lace fabric flowed from the bottom of the bodice all the way down to the top of her feet. The sales girl at the shop had placed a tiny wreath of flowers on her head and declared that she looked like a fairy princess.

  So why didn’t she feel like one?

  Deanna quickly shoved the thought aside and hung up the dress. She was sorting through the rest of her things when Thom came up behind her and slid his arms around her waist. He nuzzled the back of her neck and murmured how much he loved her. Turning to face him, she kissed him with an ardor and a hunger that belied the anxiety gnawing at her guts. She broke their passionate kiss when she heard Ian McCordy clear his throat.

  “Sorry to interrupt, but I forgot to mention that you can meet with the vicar when his office opens at eight o’clock tomorrow morning, not eight-thirty as we were first advised.”

  “Cheers, Da.” Thom turned back to Deanna to resume their deliciously pleasurable kiss. He felt a tap on his shoulder right before his dad pulled him gently away from her.

  “Come along, boyo. Don’t you know that it’s bad luck to spend time with your bride the night before your wedding?”

  Thom shrugged and looked helplessly at Deanna while she laughed along with Ian at his dismay.

  “Goodnight sweetie,” she said as Ian led him out of her bedroom. She could hear Thom protesting loudly but it was all in fun, and when she finally snuggled under the bed clothes she felt almost at peace with her decision to marry the gorgeous, audacious Thomas Ian McCordy.

  Chapter 31

  Deanna awoke to the steady jarring thump of the steel mill. Thom once told her that its incessant pounding became the normal rhythm of Midlands’s life. You would carry it with you in your bones until the day you died.

  She thought it would drive her mad.

  Unable to ignore it while showering, she began to notice a familiar pattern which she suddenly recognized as the foundation of every Metal Urge song. “Creeper, Creeper,” she sang softly, the cadence of the lyrics in synch with the steel mill’s endlessly beating metal heart. At last she understood the meaning of “heavy metal” and why it was the perfect musical style for the five young men who grew up in the middle of this relentless industrial noise. She felt ridiculously pleased with herself and laughed. At times it had been hard to support Thom’s heavy musical tastes; she recalled craving ear plugs every time she heard Metal Urge perform. Now a light had gone off in her conservative little head, and she felt proud of the bands creative use of such a negative force. Despite her revelation, she still resented the steel mills’ intrusion on her wedding day.

  Grabbing a thick cotton towel, Deanna dried off quickly, and threw on a ragged pair of jeans and a sweatshirt bearing the Arizona State University Sun Devils football team logo. She hurried down to the kitchen and poured a large glass of orange juice. It was just a few minutes after six a.m., and she was the only one up to greet the pleasantly cool dawn. She had been forbidden to go into the back garden so she headed for the front yard to drink her juice and watch the neighborhood wake up on this early Saturday morning---the morning that would change her and Thom’s lives forever. She shivered in the nippy air and took a long drink of the deliciously tart juice. Next door a little boy was tossing a ball back and forth with a man she assumed was his father. She was wondering why a small child would be up so early when the ball bounced into the yard, landing at her feet.

  “Sorry!” The man called out. He jogged out to the sidewalk and stood at Ian’s wrought iron gate smiling at her.

  She picked up the ball and carried it to him thinking that he looked vaguely familiar. The boy ran up and hugged his leg, huge eyes staring up at her in fear of being scolded for letting the ball bounce into her yard.

  “Cheers, love,” the man said as she handed him the errant ball. He studied her and then cocked his head. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before.”

  She stared at his bright hazel ey
es and frowned.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” he said, embarrassment coloring his face.

  “Oh no, you weren’t prying. It’s just that you look sort of familiar.”

  “I’m Neville Guilford, but I don’t believe we’ve ever met.” He thrust out his hand, but Deanna was too shocked to take it.

  “Guilford?” she spluttered, her heart pounding.

  “How stupid of me!” he laughed. “You’re at the McCordy homestead so you must be Thom’s fiancé. Ian has talked nonstop about you to my parents.”

  Deanna laughed weakly and took a drink of orange juice to try and moisten her parched throat but it burned like fire making her cough.

  “Are you alright?” Neville asked, taking a step towards her.

  She jumped back and held out her hand. “I’m fine. Really.”

  He looked as though he ought to feel a bit insulted but shrugged and smiled at her instead. “Well, cheers again. For the ball, I mean. Max loves the silly thing.”

  “Max?”

  “My son,” he indicated the little boy still clinging to his leg.

  “Maxwell,” the boy said and then hid his face in Neville’s trouser leg.

  “It’s nice to meet you Maxwell.” Deanna leaned towards the boy and he shouted, “Max!”

  “It’s nice to meet you Maxwell Max.”

  She looked at Neville and he winked at her when the boy came out from behind his leg and placed his hands on his hips. “Maxwell Max isn’t a name, you silly lady. It’s just Max.”

  Deanna wanted to laugh. She straightened up and nodded at the frowning child. “You’re absolutely right so I'll call you Max; that is if you don’t mind.”