Taurus Eyes

by Bonnie Hearn Hill

  Actually, I’m a little more interested in Jeremy than I should be. I can’t believe I just admitted that to myself.

  13

  IN TIMES OF TROUBLE, STAY TRUE TO YOUR SUN SIGN.

  IF YOU ARE FIRE—BLAZE. IF YOU ARE EARTH—STAY

  STRONG. IF YOU ARE WATER—SWIM. AND IF YOU ARE

  AIR—SPEAK YOUR MIND.

  —Fearless Astrology

  Well, I guess that made it pretty clear. I was an Air sign, and I had started speaking my mind. It was time for more of the same. It was also time for me to get more proactive and figure out what had really happened to Sean Baylor. Somewhere, someone knew the truth about him. It wasn’t Jeremy, and it certainly wasn’t Vanessa.

  The one person who just might remember him was my Virgo father. Last night, he had a fabulous meal set out for my friends and me when got home. Steak, pilaf, and spinach salad with cranberries, pecans, and blue cheese. Sure, Stella and Andy, Chili’s mom and dad, had helped him prepare it, but he had made the effort, in spite of his long hours at the ad agency. It felt good to walk into our house and smell the warm, comforting scent of all of my favorite foods.

  Although it was early for a weekend, I got up that morning, put on my Writers Camp tee and jeans, and hoped I would find him in the kitchen. He must be about the right age to remember Baylor.

  “What do you mean, you can’t be home?” The moment I heard his angry voice, I stopped in the hall. “This is our daughter, in case you’ve forgotten, Tess. She’s home for her first weekend from camp, and you can’t be?”

  I held my breath. He and Mom were fighting again.

  “But you promised Logan.” He lowered his voice, and I strained to hear. “I’m not sure how long I can keep doing this, Tess.”

  Then silence. One of them must have hung up.

  I turned and headed back down the hall toward my room. No way did I want to put pressure on their relationship. Yet I had, because my mom couldn’t come home this weekend, and because he knew I had hoped she could.

  “Logan, where do you think you’re going?”

  I composed a happy face then turned. In blue jeans and a T-shirt, he stood in front of the kitchen counter looking a little lost. “I came back to get my baseball cap,” I said. “Chili and Paige are coming to pick me up.”

  “Cool. Want waffles and bacon?”

  “Not today, Dad. No time.”

  I went back for my cap and then joined him in the kitchen. He’d piled toast on a dish, and I doctored it the way he liked it, with strawberry jam and a smear of peanut butter.

  He sat on the stool across from the counter, took a bite of toast and smiled at me. “You got my foodie gene. That’s for sure.”

  “Dad,” I said, and felt suddenly shy. “I need to ask you something.”

  He took another bite of toast. “If it’s about your mom and me, give it time, honey. That’s what we’re doing. This is a big adjustment for all of us.”

  My eyes stung, but I forced myself to sound upbeat. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about Sean Baylor, a folk singer who died back in the sixties.”

  “What about him?” He seemed relieved that I had moved to a safer subject.

  “Do you remember his music?”

  “Sure. At one time, I had a record of his, I think. It’s probably still around here.”

  That’s what I had counted on. He may be a pack rat, but he was an organized one.

  “Do you think you can find it now?”

  “I have to leave,” he said, “but I’ll look later. Why are you interested in such an obscure singer?”

  “He’s the subject of my article for Henry Jaffa’s class.”

  That seemed to please him. “So you’re writing about music instead of that astrology stuff. Good for you.”

  “Don’t mean to disappoint you, Dad, but Jaffa assigned the topic. I’d rather stick pins in my eyes.”

  “Don’t talk like that.” He got up from the counter and began shoving glasses into the dishwasher. I wondered what was making him so nervous. Did he believe that delivering Sean Baylor to me would make up for the fact that he hadn’t been able to deliver my mom?

  I wanted to tell him it was all right. I wanted to say that I loved both of them, and that, sure, I’d adore having a full-time mom the way Chili and Paige did. But I was okay with the way things were. More okay than I had been when Mom had been stuck home and miserable because she couldn’t pursue her dream of playing professional golf.

  “Dad,” I said. “I’m intrigued by astrology. Henry Jaffa is interested in it too. If I can prove myself to him, he might be willing to mentor me.”

  “What’s that going to take, honey? Because, whatever it is, I promise you we will make it happen.”

  “I’m in competition with another writer.” No need to mention he’s a hot guy writer. “He has sources I don’t. Whatever you can dig up about Baylor will help a lot.”

  “I’ll find that record this morning. It’s one thing I can do for you.”

  “You do a lot of things for me.”

  He gave me a strangely sad look.

  Just then, Chili’s car pulled into our drive.

  “I have to go,” I said.

  He gave me a hug. “Have fun. Remember what I told you.”

  I couldn’t deal with what was really happening here. I couldn’t deal with how alone he was, and how very much he was trying to hide it from me.

  “I’ll be back in time for dinner.”

  “Great. Stella and Andy invited us over. They miss you.”

  “Could we go out, just the two of us?” I asked. And because he got that fearful look he’d had when I caught him on the phone, I added, “I’d like to hear what you remember about Baylor.”

  “We can’t cancel so late. How about breakfast tomorrow?”

  “Okay, then.” I wondered if his smile was as phony as mine; I wondered if there was a conversation we needed to have, and if either of us had enough honest words for it.

  I wasn’t about to tell my friends how rotten I felt. It was enough to be with them. Paige had swept her pale hair up into a spiky pouf in back and was actually wearing makeup. I was betting the glasses would be the next to go. Chili wore a black sweater and a scarf that picked up the gold-bronze streaks in her hair. As happy as I was to be with them, I couldn’t help worrying about my dad. What would happen to him if my mom left for good? What would happen to me?

  We headed to Java & Jazz, where Nathan, my former boyfriend, was supposed to hang out every day. He wasn’t there. Neither was anyone else we knew.

  “It’s changed,” I told Chili.

  “It’s the same as it was a week ago,” she said. “You’re the one who’s changed.”

  “I haven’t.”

  “Sure you have. You like that weird guy, doesn’t she, Paige?”

  “He’s hot,” Paige said. “Those eyes.”

  “But he grabbed Logan.”

  “Oh,” I said. “That weird guy. His name is Jeremy, and he grabbed my arm because I was screaming at him.”

  “Nathan never grabbed you,” Chili said. “Which is another reason that we should wait a little longer. I kind of promised him that we’d be here today.”

  Nathan had done worse than grab me. He had betrayed me.

  “I think I’d like to go home.” I got up from the table. “I appreciate your concern, but I don’t want to hang out waiting for a guy who thinks I’m only here because of him.”

  “Logan . . .”

  “I mean it,” I said.

  Chili looked at me as if I were the most clueless person on earth. “So you really don’t care about meeting up with Nathan?”

  “No. I really don’t.”

  “All right, if that’s the way you want it.”

  “Come on,” I said. “This isn’t easy for me. You dumped Trevor because he was too secretive. Compare that with what Nathan did to me.”

  “Okay. I respect that you don’t want to see him. And, Logan, I shouldn’t have said w
hat I did just now. If you like the weird guy in Monterey, that’s all right too.”

  “Jeremy is not weird,” I said. “He’s just different.”

  “And, as I said, hot.” Paige the Pisces was getting more assertive. She was almost standing up to Chili.

  And poor Chili was just feeling bad because she’d broken up with Trevor.

  “If you want a guy who opens up more,” I told her, “you ought to find a nice Sagittarius. That’s your opposite sign.”

  “How do I find one?”

  “Look for someone who laughs and talks a lot. Possibly someone who likes to travel.”

  “You’re on.” She shook that vibrant mass of hair, and began to look like the old Chili again. “I feel better already.” Want to cure a Gem of a broken heart? Just mention the possibility of a new love.

  “Me, too,” I said.

  “So do you mind if we stay a little longer?”

  “Let’s stay, Logan,” Paige said. “It reminds me of this spring—all of that crazy stuff we did. And the guys . . .”

  “One relationship out of three that is still working out.” Chili could always make me laugh, even when I was laughing at myself. Talking to Paige and her reminded me of how it felt to want only a cute guy and a fellowship to a writers camp.

  “Sure,” I said.

  We had just sat back down when the door opened, and Nathan walked in. His Leo mane of blond hair had started to grow back, and he looked different, older and, if possible, even better than before.

  He glanced at our table and lit up when he saw me.

  I smiled and took a step toward him.

  “Logan,” he said. “You look wonderful.”

  “You too, Nathan.”

  He beamed. “Chili told me that you were going to be here. Sorry I’m late, but I . . .”

  “So, there you are.” Standing in the doorway, her long legs covered by a tight pair of jeans and most of her streaked blonde hair hidden by a cap, was Geneva Hamilton. She looked just as feline, just as smug, and just as shameless as when she’d taken him away from me at the end of the school year.

  Nathan was speechless. Clearly, she’d followed him here. He looked back and forth, from her to me, then back at her again.

  “This was where I left off,” I said. “Come on, girls.”

  “I’m sorry,” Chili whispered once we were outside. “He told us they had broken up. You are all he could talk about. I know he wanted to see you.”

  “Only if he could have sneaked out to do it,” I told her. “I’m glad that I didn’t make a complete fool out of myself twice. Once was bad enough.”

  When we got back home, my dad was gone. Probably at the advertising agency where he spent most of his life designing labels for wine bottles. One of those bottles was sitting on top of a piece of paper, the way he always left notes for me.

  Back in time for dinner at the C’s. I thought you might enjoy looking at this.

  “What is it?” Chili asked.

  I held up the record album. “Sean Baylor at the 1967 Monterey Pop Festival,” I read. “Oh, Chili, this is what I need. We’ve got to find a way to play it.”

  “Good luck.” She picked up the album and stared at the cover. “I’ve got to say, he was sexy. They both were.”

  “Both?”

  She turned it around so that I could see. The black-and-white design was as artistic as one of my dad’s wine labels—all shadow and light with a squiggle of violet here and there. It illuminated the face of a beautiful dark-haired girl who was shaking a tambourine. She and three blondes—all tangled curls and large lined eyes—leaned in toward the duo on stage.

  A skinny guy playing a guitar, faced the microphone, dark hair flying. Beside him was a drummer, clearly slamming. His large Afro was lit in hues of purple.

  “What’s wrong,” Chili asked. “You look as if you’ve seen . . .” She stopped abruptly.

  “No,” I said. “Not a ghost. Far from it. Sean Baylor wasn’t a solo act, Chili. He had a partner.”

  NOTES TO SELF

  Although Chili’s parents were as warm and supportive as always, I couldn’t wait to go home. The group known as Baylor wasn’t just Sean. It was Sean and a drummer. Once we left, I badgered my dad with questions. He promised to try to find a way to play the “LP,” as he called it. I didn’t have much hope in that department. Although he is the most creative person I know, my dad has been known to short out our electricity while trying to repair a table lamp. It’s all right, though. I will find a way to listen to Sean Baylor’s music. In the meantime, I am going to start seriously looking for the drummer.

  There can’t be that many people with the name of Eldon “Cookie” Burke. I might as well start by figuring out his sign.

  14

  THE FIXED SCORPIO WALLOWS IN THOSE ENDLESS

  EMOTIONAL WATERS MORE THAN MOST SIGNS (EXCEPT

  PERHAPS FELLOW WATER SIGNS, PISCES AND CANCER).

  AND IT WORKS, MOST OF THE TIME, AT LEAST.

  ALTHOUGH A PERSON BORN UNDER THIS SIGN MIGHT

  NOT BE ANY MORE LONG-SUFFERING THAN ANYONE

  ELSE, YOU WON’T CONVINCE THE SCORPIO OF THAT.

  DON’T BOTHER TRYING. IT’S A SMALL PRICE TO PAY FOR

  FRIENDSHIP WITH THIS ETERNALLY LOYAL COMRADE

  WHO WILL KEEP YOUR EVERY SECRET.

  —Fearless Astrology

  I didn’t have to go far. Cookie Burke’s birth date was on the first Web site I checked. He was born on November 2. A Scorpio. From the description in Fearless, it wouldn’t be easy prying information out of him.

  His career, although far less dramatic than Sean Baylor’s, had lasted much longer. He and Baylor had started out in a folk band called The Twa Corbies, named after some Scottish ballad. I remembered from Ms. Snider’s English class that corbies meant ravens or crows. And twa, as far as I could tell, meant two. Then Baylor’s star had begun to rise, and the duo’s name had changed to simply Baylor. Now, Cookie Burke was listed as, “Jazz man,” on the Internet. “Home base, Monterey.”

  I shivered when I read that. Once class was over on Monday, I was going to look for this guy.

  As usual, Candice had a party going on in our room that Sunday when I returned. She and the out-of-staters, as they had started calling themselves, had remained on campus and partied all weekend. I wondered if that included Jeremy. At least, he wasn’t in the room that night. Vanessa was.

  When Chili, Paige, and I walked in, she stalked out as if we were the ones invading her space.

  “Who’s the chest?” Chili asked.

  Tati had been more than happy to fill her in.

  Monday morning, Tati and I sat next to each other in class, as I wondered how I was going to find Cookie. From the back of the room, Jeremy gave me that same dark stare he had after Chili had yanked me away from him on Friday. He was dressed like an East Coast kid, all in black. Remembering the scene with Chili seemed strangely funny, and I had to look down to hide my smile and keep from laughing.

  “Ghost Seekers will be here next week,” Jaffa said and pulled his dorky scarf closer around his neck. “Today, I want to hear what you wrote, based on Friday’s interviews. And I also want to know what progress you’ve made on your research.”

  “I had a terrible time, Henry.” Vanessa sat straight in her chair as if to emphasize her seriousness. “I mean, astrology is just so dull, and those sites online are all the same.”

  “And her problem is?” Tati whispered. “She probably thinks research is supposed to be like flipping channels.”

  “Tatiyana.” Jaffa said her name the way a judge in a court-room might, just before delivering a guilty verdict. “Do you have something to add?”

  She shot him an innocent look and pushed back the hair that had fallen over one eye. “I’ve heard it said that there are no boring topics.” Only boring researchers. She wouldn’t dare say that. “When that happens in my own research, I try to challenge myself, and if I learn one new fact from any source, I consider it
worthwhile.”

  “Excellent.” She had won him over again, and Vanessa was clearly fuming.

  “I did challenge myself.” Vanessa tilted her head and glanced from Jaffa to me. “I helped Jeremy research Sean Baylor last weekend.”

  I turned. Now Jeremy was the one looking down.

  “How did you do that?” I blurted without thinking.

  “Oh,” she said, and waved a hand in little circles as if illustrating their journey. “We went to a bunch of the places where Baylor had played, and I tried to conjure his spirit.”

  What I could see of Jeremy’s face through the hair that was hiding it was a deep shade of red. Good.

  “That’s great,” I said. “I did some Baylor research of my own.”

  “Really?” Her smile was superior. “I thought you just went home.”

  I hoped that Jeremy could hear the nastiness in her tone. If this was what he wanted, he could have her.

  “Yes, I did.” I looked at Jaffa as I answered the question. “I was certain I could locate a Baylor recording there, and I did.”

  “You did?” Jeremy’s voice from the back. I didn’t turn around.

  “You found a recording?” Jaffa asked. “You see, class. She didn’t have to go on the Internet, although I’m sure she did that as well. She went beyond that and found the real thing.”

  “I can’t wait to play it,” I said. “It was recorded live at the Monterey Pop Festival in 1967.”

  Jaffa continued questioning everyone, and I knew that I had impressed him. I also knew that I had delivered an unexpected blow to Jeremy’s smug existence.

  After class, I walked slowly out of the room and guessed that he would soon catch up with me.

  He didn’t waste any time. “Where did you find the recording ?” he asked me.

  I kept walking. “Just doing research, the same as you and Vanessa did.”

  “Logan,” he said. “It wasn’t like that.”

  I took my cell phone out of my backpack and checked for text messages. One from Chili. I needed to reply.

  “See you later,” I told him. “Good luck with your research.”