The talk often turned to the tour plans. They’d all be flying to Dublin in the morning. They’d hit Glasgow and London before leaving Great Britain toward the end of the week.
Micah was excited to play Wembley Stadium. He’d been to Canada, but never across the pond. “Tomorrow night, we’ll be busy getting ready for our first show. It’s happening so fast. But Sunday’s free, so I can get out and do some touristy stuff in Scotland. I can bring you back something!”
As the night wore on, I lost track of Stacy but thought I saw her laughing with Mark in the kitchen at one point. I worried I’d never get a moment alone with Adam. There was always someone else who wanted to talk to him. And occasionally to me. Some people had seen our video and commented on it. Adam must’ve trusted everyone there, because the entire night, he had his arm draped over my shoulder or around my waist when he wasn’t twining his fingers through mine. But he hadn’t cornered me in any dark rooms or even grazed my cheek with a kiss.
Late into the party, I heard a high-pitched titter and turned around to find a tall, platinum blonde entering the kitchen. She had colored streaks through that platinum and so much makeup on she looked more transvestite than girl. She walked straight over to Adam and leaned in for a hug, almost peering down on him from her height.
“Oh, honey,” she said. “I’m sorry I’m so late. We had to go to Carmen’s party.”
I knew this was Adrianna LaRue, but up close she looked different than on her videos. She was glamorous and beautiful in her way, but it was entirely plastic. Around the edges of that pancake makeup, her skin was the soft color of driftwood.
She was a tour de force and totally out of place in an ordinary Brooklyn townhouse. She made me feel totally out of place.
Adam touched her arm and said, “Eden, this is Adrianna. Adrianna, Eden.”
Adrianna’s eyes lit up, and she cooed. “Oh, this is the one?”
Adam blushed. “I’ve told Adrianna about us.”
She laid a hand on my shoulder. “I’m so sorry about any trouble I’ve caused you with our little fun. I’m incorrigible at best.”
“So did you bring the paparazzi with you?” asked Adam. “Or did you give them the slip?”
She laughed, and her mouth was a flash of unnaturally white teeth. “They’re out front. Careful if you go outside to take a whiz.”
“That wouldn’t be the worst picture ever. God, remember when they caught me with my hand on my ass?” He rolled his eyes. “They made it look like I’d had the world’s biggest crack itch.”
No, I didn’t remember that. But Adrianna’s mouth was wide with laughter. “Or when they caught you with your hand on my ass.” She fluttered her incredibly false eyelashes and then covered her mouth. “Oh, dear.” She bent toward me. “I’m only joking. That never happened.”
I fought the jealousy rising as they interacted. It made me feel better to know he’d told her about me, but he’d never talked to me very much about her. She was nothing like what I’d expected.
Adam touched my elbow. “Seriously. If it had, that picture would’ve been everywhere.” He waved his hands in the direction of everywhere.
Was he defensive? Surely he wouldn’t have told her about me if they had anything going on, but who knew how she might feel about a casual relationship?
I forced a laugh. Not that they noticed.
“So what do you have planned while we’re on tour, Ade? You gonna head back to California?”
Adam stood closer to me than to her. Absently, he’d touch my arm or lay his hand on my back. If I leaned toward him, he’d lean back. But his eyes were focused on her.
“Actually, I thought I’d go play in Europe for a little bit. See where the tide brings me.”
I sucked in a lungful of air and held it.
He nodded. “That’s great. Maybe we’ll cross paths.”
She tilted her head. “Actually, I was hoping I could beg a ride over to Ireland with you. I can find my own way from there. That is, if you have room on the plane.”
At last Adam broke eye contact with Adrianna, checking in with me instead.
Given what he’d said about sharing a bubble with her, maybe they had an arrangement. Maybe they were fuck buddies. I counted to ten, then exhaled. There was nothing I could contribute to this conversation. If I asked him to refuse her, I’d be the jealous girlfriend.
I checked the time on my phone, shocked to find it was nearly two a.m. “What time do you guys have to be up tomorrow?”
Adam sighed. “In six hours. These guys are going to have to be poured onto the plane.”
I pretended to stifle a yawn. “Thanks for inviting me, but I think I need to go home. It’s been a long day.”
He didn’t ask me if I wanted to come to his place to sleep, but he did walk Stacy and me to my car. With a glance up the street to check for lurking cameramen, he took my hand in his and brushed my lips with a kiss, but whether because Stacy was standing right there, or because we were starting over, or because he’d lost his passion for me or had some side thing with Adrianna, he stepped back and let me climb in the car.
He stopped me from closing the door to tell me he’d miss me and would call me when he got to Dublin.
I started the car, fighting back tears. I didn’t even know if I was sad because he was leaving or because he didn’t seem to care.
* * *
Stacy and Kelly took me out on Saturday night to cheer me up, but I was terrible company, staring at my phone every time it buzzed, hoping to get some word of Adam. I knew he’d arrived in Dublin because Micah had texted me pictures from the private jet. I’d begun the automatic addition of five hours to the time that would become a knee-jerk reaction for the next several days. When my phone showed ten p.m., I simultaneously held in mind that it was three a.m. in Ireland. They’d likely all be asleep by now. And still no word from Adam.
Maybe my total lack of interest in anyone at the bar made me more desirable than usual. For some reason, more than one man asked me for my name, where I worked, what I was drinking, and other questions designed to hide their ultimate question: Can I take you home tonight?
I tuned them all out.
Kelly snickered, and I pulled my eyes away from my phone. “What is it?”
“Hold on. Just listen.”
I waited. Then the song came on overhead. She’d managed to get someone to put “Expulsion” into the music mix. It sounded weird coming out over the loud speakers that usually played country or pop. The radio version of “Expulsion” had a hard edge to it. Underneath the crunchy guitars and heavy drumming, it was a trite love song about lost innocence and falling into temptation before being cast out of paradise together. But the lyrics were allegorical and clever, a fact that was lost when the drunks in the bar sang along with the chorus.
Kelly hid her mischievous smile and nudged me. “You’re not laughing. What’s wrong?”
I forced a fake smile. “Stacy and I were out late last night. I haven’t caught up on my sleep yet.”
She had to know I missed Adam. It seemed kind of shitty to remind me by having his music play. It had been a mistake to come out here with them. I excused myself and went home.
The silence had started to eat at me. When I left the bar, it was four a.m. in the UK, and I knew he’d be sleeping, and I knew he’d been busy. Last night he’d been onstage, meeting fans, sleeping. Or sleeping with fans.
I knew he wouldn’t, but I stared at my phone and willed him to text. It wouldn’t be the same as a conversation. Or his presence. Or his kiss. But it would ease my mind.
Writing or calling him myself became a more and more distant option as time passed. I could hear him in my head telling me to talk to him, but that was the Adam who snuggled next to me on the sofa on a lazy Sunday with nowhere else to go. The more people reminded me of the disparity in our leagues, the more I needed him to make the first move. The more I needed him to be the one to call or write to me.
Not much of a role model f
or women’s lib.
But it wasn’t because I thought I couldn’t call him. I knew I could, but that wasn’t the point. I didn’t worry I’d annoy him. I could control this one thing, waiting. And that meant waiting to follow his lead. That might be perceived as giving him all the power, but he already held all the power in this relationship. My power play was to make him work for it. If he couldn’t call and let me know he was alive, I wasn’t about to make it easy on him.
Chapter 14
When I woke up Sunday morning, I checked my phone immediately to find that Adam had written me an hour after I’d gone to sleep.
Subject: Hi
I bit my lip and clicked through, always a little leery of the breakup speech. Now that we were separated, the complete absence of the physical chemistry that had sustained our relationship felt like the sword of Damocles. I couldn’t see any way he’d remain interested in me apart from me. Sooner or later, he’d wake up.
Eden,
I’m sorry I didn’t call last night. When we got to Dublin, we had some major issues with the arena. As soon as I arrived, I was on the phone with Jane until we got everything resolved. We had to scramble to get our set built and at last put on a show. Don’t go looking for reviews. I’m sure it was pretty shaky. But we pulled it off. We’re heading to Glasgow right now. Thankfully, Jane scheduled a day between our first two shows for just this kind of hitch. It’s not uncommon.
But I still should have called you. It’s the middle of the night there now, so I don’t want to wake you.
I’m sitting alone on the front of a bus that’s flying through the darkness. All I can see out the window are the divided lines in the highway shooting us like lasers. All I can think of is you.
And I can’t sleep.
I hope you’re thinking of me.
Adam
That was all the invitation I needed to call. It was one p.m. Glasgow time.
He answered on the second ring.
“Eden?” His voice gave me goose bumps.
“Good morning . . . or, I mean, good afternoon. I just got your e-mail.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m glad you called. It’s great to hear your voice.”
“How’d Micah do in Dublin?”
“Awesome. He’s opening now, but I predict he’ll have his own tours within the next two years. The crowds love him.”
I relaxed and settled in to talk to him. We talked casually for an hour. He told me about the tour antics that had already started. They had to find ways to kill the long hours between shows, and the tour usually began with fun camaraderie, pranks, and group mayhem—all of which would slowly die down as the exhaustion and boredom of four weeks on the road ground on them.
“When I opened a drawer to pull out a pair of boxers to sleep in last night, there was nothing but diapers.”
I giggled. “What did you do?”
“I went commando.”
“So right now—?” The image of him sitting half naked on the tour bus might push me from vaguely missing him all the way into physical pain.
“Sweat pants. Very attractive.”
“That’s good. I was about to book a flight.”
His voice changed. “You should.”
Not that it wasn’t tempting, but . . . “Can’t. Work. Besides, I’d be in the way.”
“No, you wouldn’t. For now, everyone is still filled with excitement, but after two days on the road, I feel more alone than I remember it being. It’s hard to explain. I’m surrounded by people constantly, and half the time, I want to get away to myself. I enjoy the guys, but . . .” His voice dropped, quiet. “I guess I’m just missing you.”
“You better. At least you have something fun to do. Same old same old here.”
“Come here. Meet us in London. Or Paris. Come see the show and travel with us. Doooo it, Eden.”
I laughed. How many women would jump at the chance? The idea seemed so crazy, but I said, “I would if I could.”
He wasn’t laughing. “If you change your mind, contact my agent, Jane. I’ll send her instructions to take care of you. Think about it.”
Later in the morning, my mom called and told me she needed my help getting together the Halloween decorations. Dad was carving a pumpkin when I arrived. It always surprised me that my mom got into Halloween at all given her feelings about the underworld. But any theme she could mine for a party seemed to fall into the realm of the acceptable. She avoided anything that touched on witchcraft or devilry and stuck to the more savory spooks—bats, skeletons, cobwebs, spiders, tomb stones. Death and creepy crawlies were just a part of life.
I recalled one year when Micah had wanted to dress up like a warlock, but my parents said there was no such thing as magic and made him choose something else. He ended up going out dressed as a Jedi Knight. I still didn’t understand their logic.
As I was stapling the cobweb netting to the front-porch overhang, Dad came out and asked if he could be of any assistance. He stood beside the ladder, one hand bracing the side. Ever so casually, he dropped his payload. “Mom’s a bit concerned with some of the rumors going around.”
I finished putting up the decoration and climbed down and thanked him. “Dad, there’s nothing for her to worry about.”
“I’m sure.” He looked down at me, saying more with his dark eyes than he ever would with words. He patted my shoulder, an overwhelming sign of solidarity and affection. “Maybe you should go talk to her?”
“Thanks, Dad.”
I found my mom upstairs, putting her hair up. She didn’t take her eyes from the mirror. “Oh, Eden. Could you hand me that comb?” She put a bobby pin in her mouth, and I grabbed the comb from the edge of her vanity.
I sat on her bed, one leg under the other, and ran my eyes across the room. She’d changed minor things over the years: the comforter, the curtains, the carpets. But the furniture and wall hangings had been the same since we moved into this house. The bright red wooden horses from Sweden had stood silent watch for a decade. The only significant change had been in Mom. I leaned over and placed a finger where she’d been pinning her hair. It used to be blond with hints of white. Now the roots were silver with a few golden holdouts. If I took after her in any way, I’d have a pretty shade of gray to look forward to. But I didn’t. I was Dad’s kid all the way. I’d have black hair until I was wearing dentures.
She finished and held the hand mirror to inspect her handiwork. Then she turned around with a deep exhale. “Eden, I know you’re dating that musician.”
I snorted. That was going to be impossible to deny. “Well, yeah.”
Her eyes narrowed. “It’s not serious, is it?”
“A little. He invited me to fly to Europe and tour with his band.” No big deal. I dropped that on her and stood up. I didn’t like where this was heading.
“You’re not considering it, are you?”
Micah was right. I needed to get out of there. “It’s none of your business, Mom. I’m twenty-eight. I can make my own decisions.”
“Eden, sit down.” I leaned against her bed, neither sitting, nor standing. She scowled, but let it go. “You can be so obstinate. All I ever wanted was for you to be happy.”
I took in the fine lines under her eyes, the deep groove between her brows. Did she have matching etches in her cheeks when she smiled?
“Are you happy, Mom?” I hadn’t meant it to come out like a challenge, but my hackles were up.
Her frown deepened. “Of course, I am. Why would you think otherwise?”
Because you focus so much attention on my life? And always have. At least since—
“Mom, whatever happened on that mission trip?”
“What?”
“Why did you take us off that bus and come here?”
She shifted. “That was a very long time ago, Eden.”
“But you’ve never explained it to me.”
“Eden, we weren’t supposed to be on that bus for more than a mon
th or two.”
I chuckled. “Because the world was supposed to end?”
She looked at her hands. Was she embarrassed about that chapter in her life?
“I’m sorry, Mom. Go on.”
“I began to realize that we were neglecting our responsibilities to you children. We had a tutor on hand to keep up with your school work, of course. But Micah was becoming so wild.”
“So you came back?”
She exhaled. “Not at first.”
“So why?”
Her shoulders dropped, and she made eye contact with me. “We ran out of money.”
Something clicked into place in my brain. “We were broke?”
She nodded.
“So that’s why we lived with Mor-Mor until Dad found work? Did you move us here so we could be resocialized?”
“That’s a harsh way to describe it. But yes, I wanted to move on and make sure you kids had a healthy environment to grow up in.”
“After you realized we were actually going to grow up?”
“Something like that.”
“You do know that I’ve grown up now. You don’t need to keep protecting me.”
She smiled weakly. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
I bit my cheek. “You know you can’t control that.”
The groove in her brow deepened. Maybe I’d put it there. “I’m not sure why you waited so long to turn wild. But you of all people should know those musicians don’t lead the kind of life you need. They don’t know how to keep a relationship going.”
“Ugh, Mom. I haven’t gone wild, and anyway, half the guys you set me up with are divorced.”
“But they’ve got homes and stable careers.” Her hands were tiny fists in her lap. “Go on then. I guess you’ll have to learn from experience. The door is always open here.”
There was so much I wanted to say, but my mom’s prejudices about me were as fixed as the Dala horses guarding her nightstand. Her notion of my Mr. Right couldn’t encompass someone like Adam. And I’d let her worldview influence my own.
As much as I’d fought against her attempts to settle me with a man of her choosing, I’d inherited her myopic assessment of people, even if I’d twisted it to create my own arbitrary standards. Was I any better than my mom for ruling out entire groups of people because of their career? Or for writing off so many people as unsuitable for me based on something as superficial as their hair color or their tattoos?
Some Kind of Magic Page 16