When the trio announced an intermission and put their instruments aside, she got up and walked to meet them on their way to the refreshment booth, not knowing what she could say, or ask. She had met them only once and didn’t know them. Would they tell her anything?
Andy nodded at her when she approached him, unsmiling and eyebrows raised a little.
She asked hesitantly about Miles. “Why isn’t he with you?”
Andy shrugged, frowning, and didn’t meet her eyes. “He just up and left. He called me on Sunday and said he was leaving for Boston and didn’t know when, or if, he’d be back. Not like him at all.”
Her heart sank, leaving an aching hollow place. She waited until he had purchased a drink. “Did he give you a reason? A job somewhere?”
The big shaggy-haired drummer shook his head, obviously as perplexed and upset as she was. “No. He just said he had to leave, to get away for a while.” He looked at her speculatively over his cup of steaming spiced cider. “Did you two have a falling out or something?”
“Not on my part.” She looked across the throng of well-wishers, collecting her wits. “That’s all he told me, too, that he couldn’t stay here. He had to leave.”
“Maybe he had an argument with his cousin?”
“Not that I’ve heard.” She would have to call Glo and ask, even if she didn’t want to.
Andy shrugged. “He’s done this before, gone off somewhere, but it was usually for a job or something, and he always calls me, tells me where he is, and wants to know where we’re playing so he can join us. He goes back to Ted and Glo sooner or later. Ted doesn’t think about it very much. He’s used to it. Miles has always been like that.”
He glanced sideways at her. “They’re closer than brothers, you know.”
She had suspected that. That Ted would know. A hard knot formed in the pit of her stomach. I wish I knew him better, what he really thinks, just how much of what he told me is true. She said, “Well, thanks anyway, Andy. Let me know if you hear from him, will you?”
“I’d think he would call you first.” He hesitated a moment, not meeting her eyes. “We were all hoping that maybe you were the one that would settle him down, corral him so to speak. He talked about you a lot.”
She laughed without any mirth. “I guess he doesn’t want to be corralled.” She added, after a moment, “Not that I had any plans to do that.” But had she had that in mind? Is that what Miles was afraid of? Glo said he avoided commitments. Any kind of commitment outside of his music. And just what, how much, do I want?
Right now, to know where Miles had gone, to be sure that he was all right. That his fit of depression hadn’t led him deeper into despondency.
“Who knows about Miles?” Andy threw his cup into a trash barrel. “We need him in the group. He knows more about music than the rest of us combined. He keeps us on track.” He turned away. “Guess I’d better find something to eat before we play again. I’ll let you know if I hear from him. Or maybe, if he calls me, I can get him to call you.”
She didn’t want to comment on that. “Thanks.”
She watched the drummer walk toward the other musicians standing in front of a lunch wagon offering hot dogs and hamburgers. She put her own cup in the trash and turned her back on the gathering to walk back to her car. She couldn’t stay to listen any more. Without Miles it wasn’t the same, it lacked the particular spirit he put into the music, a part of himself.
It was that spirit she wanted. It was part of what had drawn her to him. And without him to listen to, she had no reason to stay. She made a donation to the cause, bought a raffle ticket for a basket of homemade baked goodies and another cup of coffee, and drove home in a cloud of gloom.
Tomorrow is Sunday. A week since he left. If he doesn’t want to talk to me, what more can I do? She knew there was nothing. She had a business to run. She had done it before Miles came along, and she could do it again.
But she would call Glo. She still had a deep need to know.
ALTHEA AND GLO
Althea debated with herself for a while, doubting the wisdom or the necessity of calling Glo and asking about Miles. She didn’t want to appear overly concerned. She didn’t know how much Miles had told her or Ted about their relationship, such as it was, and she was afraid she might reveal more than she intended, more than Miles wanted known. But she didn’t know what else to do, and she had to do something. She needed to know. Something. Anything.
Glo answered the phone on the first ring, as if she’d been waiting for a call. She sighed. “Oh, Althea. I’m sorry. I thought maybe you were Miles.”
“That’s why I called. I . . .”
“Do you know where he is?” There was eager hope in her voice. “Has he called you?”
“No. I thought maybe you knew.” She took a deep breath to calm her nerves and steady her voice. “This afternoon I went to a benefit where he was supposed to be playing but he wasn’t there. Andy said he hadn’t heard from him either, just a call before he left saying he was going to Boston and didn’t know when he’d be back.” She added when Glo didn’t speak, “And he didn’t say why he was going.”
Glo sighed again, a long drawn-out, sad expelling of breath. “I’ll be right down. I don’t want to talk about him on the phone.”
Althea could feel her worry, almost fear, in her voice. It matched her own but for probably much different reasons. “The stand is closed so come up to the house. I’ll have the tea ready.”
Glo arrived in fewer minutes than Althea would have thought possible. At least legally. She was out of breath, somewhat disheveled and without her usually perfectly groomed appearance. She was wearing little makeup and her distress was obvious in her pale face and her strained voice. “I’m sorry to come like this. I don’t want to bother you, or get you upset or anything, but when you called . . .”
Althea motioned her into a chair. The cups and creamer were already on the table and the water was almost hot. “So,” she said, mentally getting a firmer grip on herself, “About Miles . . .”
Glo blew out a long breath and reached for a tea bag. “We, me and Ted, were hoping you could tell us. We know he came to see you just before he left. He said that’s where he was going. The last time we saw him.” She glanced up, and Althea saw the worry in her eyes, traces of tears, and the quivering of her tightly drawn lips. “He’s never just left like that before.”
Althea poured water into the cups. “Like how?”
“He left us a note on the kitchen table. He didn’t say where he was going, or why, or anything.” She shuddered. “Ted checked and we guess all he took with him was an overnight bag and one of his guitars. His favorite one. A few clothes and we don’t know what else.” She shook her head in obvious disbelief. “All of his other instruments are still here. He’s never left them before.”
Althea couldn’t believe that, either. “What day was that?”
“Monday. He came in late Sunday night, after we’d gone to bed. We didn’t see him in the morning. We frequently don’t. He hadn’t gotten up yet when we left for work. There was just the note when we got home that afternoon, scribbled on the back of an envelope. It’s not like him. He never did that before.” She stirred sugar into her cup. “I know he’s erratic, comes and goes when he feels like it, won’t accept a regular position anywhere.” She glanced up at Althea. “He’s been offered several good jobs, but he doesn’t want to stay anywhere. He says he can’t, that’s not his style.”
Althea knew that it was a lot more than that, a deep-seated fear of more loss. She fixed her own cup of tea, trying to appear calm, searching for something positive to say, something to reassure Glo, when she had nothing. She said slowly, “I was with him for a while on Sunday evening. He stopped in after I closed the stand.” She hesitated, wondering how much she should say, how much or little she could
share. “We were planning to have supper, but he said he had to leave. He didn’t say where he was going.”
Glo waited, watching her intently. “Did he say when he’d be back?”
“No.” Althea rook a deep breath. Just how much privacy did she owe Miles? And herself? Glo and Ted were all the family he had, and they should know what happened and understand. She said carefully, “He was very upset.”
“Did he say why? What the problem was?” Her voice was taut, intense.
“I guess it was about our relationship, where it might be headed.” It was as close to the truth as she could come. She could not share that evening in the arbor with anyone.
Glo laughed shortly and visibly relaxed a bit. “Oh. You had reached the point where he couldn’t go any farther? So he said goodbye?”
Althea nodded, not looking at her, trying to hide the hurt.
Glo sighed. “He does that. Has done that several times. This time we thought it was different.”
Althea waited.
“He’s never really left before. Always before, he’s sort of shrugged it off, laughed about it, and took on a new job or two until he met someone else.” She looked down at her tea, not saying anything more, and seemed close to tears. “It never seemed to mean anything to him.”
Althea said, taking a chance on her diagnosis, “And this time you’re worried about him? Why? He did seem depressed when he left. Does he suffer from that, I mean seriously?”
Glo nodded. “But not to the point where he takes medication or anything. He does get into a funk every once in a while, and then he goes off somewhere, does something new and gets over it. It usually doesn’t take very long and he’s back to himself, making music again. But we’ve always known where he was, where he went, what he was doing. He’s been to a therapist a few times, but he always says it didn’t help, they didn’t know what they were talking about.”
Althea could understand that. He probably hadn’t told the therapist what the real problem was, so they couldn’t help him. She couldn’t say that, however. He trusted me with his heart, his soul, and then left. I can’t betray him now. He will come back.
Glo sipped at her tea, “He’s been so much better lately, since he met you. He’s been happier, doing more normal things.”
Althea didn’t ask what Glo considered normal. Miles wasn’t like any normal person, by which she meant ordinary, she had ever met, and his quirkiness was one of his endearing charms. She said carefully, “He was here once, caught outside during a sudden bad thunderstorm, and he told me why he was afraid of them. About the fire that killed his friend. He said he had seen the therapist about that, to get over his fears, but it hadn’t helped very much.”
Glo nodded in agreement. “Ted knows about that. He’s tried to help him, to be there for him, I guess you’d say.” She added after a moment, “Ted doesn’t have any brothers. It’s always been him and Miles. Since they were little.”
Althea sipped at her tea. That’s what Miles said. All he had was his Aunt Mary after his mother left.
“Ted thinks maybe it’s just his . . .” she glanced up half smiling, “what do you call it, artistic temperament?”
“He certainly has that. He sang a song for me, the one he wrote, the one he calls ‘Althea in the Rain.’ It’s a beautiful song.”
“He sang it for us once, or part of it, while he was composing it. He usually doesn’t do that.” She shook her head. “He keeps so much of himself secret.”
“He told me it wasn’t finished.” Will it ever be finished now? Now that he’s left me? How did he plan to finish it? She waited again watching Glo stir her tea. She needed some reassurance and Glo wasn’t providing it. She probably couldn’t. “If Miles is in the habit of going off like that, why do you think this is different?” She tasted her tea. “Why do you think something is wrong this time?”
Glo shook her head, keeping her attention on her cup. “It’s just a feeling Ted has. Miles has been acting different the past few weeks.”
Althea said slowly, watching Glo for a reaction, “Miles mentioned his mother to me. How she left them, him and his father, one day.”
“Really?” She looked up, wide-eyed. “I’m surprised. He never talks about her. But then, neither does Ted. At least not to me. I didn’t know her.”
“It really affected him.” Deep down affected him so that he never got over it, but how can I say that? Ted probably knows.
“It would. He would repress it, and I guess he did.” She put her cup down again. “I’ve known Miles almost all my life.” She smiled, fully and genuinely, obviously recalling better and happier times. “I always liked him, but it’s been me and Ted since about eighth grade. We’ve always been family.”
Althea could think of nothing to say to that, so she asked, “Is there a reason why he would go to Boston right now? Does he have friends there?”
“He went to school down there. He’s taken some classes since he graduated, worked for a while with a flute teacher, and played with a few groups. Maybe he has some friends he could stay with, but I don’t know who they might be.” She released a long breath. “If that’s where he went, at least we know something. More than we did before. Maybe Ted knows somebody. Or he could call Andy.”
Althea sipped at her tea, watching Glo gradually collect herself, calm down, gain a little color in her face. She tried to regain a little confidence herself, but couldn’t. She was the reason Miles had gone away. She was the last person here to see him, his agitation, and his despair. And apparently no one else knew about Elsa. And I can’t tell her. I can’t explain why he won’t, can’t, have a real commitment. Miles has to do that.
Glo said, “We’re probably worried about nothing. Miles is just being himself. He’ll be back. As usual, when he feels like it.” She paused, shook her head. “But I do wish he’d call and let us know he’s okay.”
“So do I. I miss his music.”
Glo smiled and picked up her tea cup. “I think you were good for him, Althea. He seemed to be changing, becoming a little more responsible, and working more at better jobs.” She glanced sideways at Althea. “You’re different from the other girls he picked up.” She laughed but not with amusement. “They were always floozies he picked up in a bar someplace, just somebody for the evening, to drink beer with.” She shook her head. “At least that’s what he said.”
And fall into bed with? She didn’t want to think that. Miles had not come across that way. Not with me. He was caring, considerate. Mostly. He loved me.
“He always laughed about them,” Glo said. “It was nothing serious. Ever. Until now. That’s why we thought things had changed.” She took a nervous sip of her tea. “Why Ted is so worried. Always before he called in a day or two. Or told us where he was going when he left.”
“I’m afraid I can’t help.”
“If something’s happened to him . . .” she looked up. “Somebody would look us up, call us wouldn’t they? I know he carries our address, our phone number with him.”
“I’m sure they would.”
Glo pushed herself to her feet. “I’m sorry I came here like this. I shouldn’t worry you, too. It’s not your problem.” She paused, picked up her purse. “But he was with you on Sunday . . .”
But it is very much my problem. It’s my heart he took with him, and he’s breaking it. She said, “I do care about him, Glo.” She mentally crossed her fingers. “We really hadn’t gone that far. I’ve never met anyone quite like him.”
“Yeah. He’s one of a kind.” She laughed shortly. “But thanks, I needed to talk to somebody, and Ted can call Andy. You know, man to man, just inquiring sort of thing. Maybe he’s heard something.”
“It’s a place to start. If he doesn’t call you. And he probably will.” She didn’t want to think of Miles in a bar somewhere drinking too much
beer with another girl beside him listening to his poetry. He should be here, making his own brew, singing his songs to me.
She opened the door for Glo and watched her walk back to her car. She had been no help at all.
And what can I do now except get on with my life, put Miles out of my mind, and pretend I never met him. He’s gone. He said he was leaving, that he had to go. There is nothing I can do about it.
She knew that wasn’t going to be as easy as it sounded.
ED’S ACCIDENT
Putting Miles out of her mind wasn’t easy at all, in fact, it was just as hard as Althea had known it would be. All day Sunday, Althea caught herself looking up whenever a car drove into the parking lot, her hope rising for a second before she recognized the vehicle, or at least knew it wasn’t the dented black Jeep she was hoping to see. Miles didn’t come.
Nor did Ted hear from him. He called Althea late in the afternoon. “It’s just not like him. I hope he’s all right. But he’s an adult and can do as he wants to. He’s his own man. Always was. He’s just off doing his own thing.” Ted’s voice was tired, he was obviously trying not to show his concern. “We have no reason to call the authorities or somebody.”
“I’m sure he’s all right,” Althea said, trying to sound confident, but she wasn’t sure, either. She’d seen him just before he left her, filled with despair, broken and torn, but she couldn’t tell Ted about that. Not yet. Not unless Miles failed to return and people were officially looking for him.
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