Blue Saturn

by Jay, Libby

  Mikey is having a sleep over at Cherry’s house tonight. I was half expecting Mikey to back out at the last minute, but when Cherry and Clarke came to collect him, he bounded out the door and got into the car with absolutely no hesitation.

  Gavin meets us outside. Wayne is here also, waiting to drive us to the party.

  The party is at an old retro nightclub. It shut down about ten years ago, but can be used for private parties. The decor is very seventies and I can’t decide whether it is the original decor or if it has been renovated to look that way. Either way, it looks great.

  I was worried that I’d be under dressed in jeans and a singlet top, but Mike was spot on in choosing my outfit. I fit in perfectly. There are a few girls wearing dresses, but the majority are wearing jeans or pants and in some cases, very short shorts.

  Mike is greeting people as we walk into the party. They shake his hand and thump his back and congratulate him on the success of the recent tour and ask when the new album is going to be out and if Blue Saturn will tour again.

  Mike is very gracious in accepting the compliments and answers the questions as well as he can.

  He introduces me to everyone, but it would take a miracle for me to remember any of these people. They all look the same. The men are either wearing suits or look much like Mike and the women are all beautiful and dressed immaculately. I don’t recognise anyone, other than Liane who is glaring at me over a glass of champagne and of course, Steve and Paul, who are standing not far from us talking to two very happy girls. And I say girls because they can’t be older than twenty.

  Mike holds my hand the entire time we’re mingling. And when he has to let go of my hand, he’s quick to take it again, or to wrap his arm around me.

  Mike hands me another glass of water. It’s warm in here and the coolness of the drink is welcome. Mike has suggested we make our way to the back of the room, he’s seen his producer and he wants to introduce us.

  It’s very slow progress getting across the room. Mike is stopped by just about everyone. Mike welcomes the interruption in some cases, but with other’s he is very quick to move on.

  I just counted woman number twenty two. This beautiful woman, with the dramatic black bobbed hairstyle is the twenty second woman to throw her arms around Mike and push her body up against him. And we’ve only been here for an hour. And I hate myself that I’m counting, but I can’t help it. I love Mike, I know he loves me but everything is still so new and sometimes I feel like I’ll never be enough for him. What do I mean “sometimes”. I feel that all the time.

  Mike reaches up and removes her hands from him and steps back. I know by the look on his face he should know this woman’s name, but he doesn’t.

  “It’s good to see you again,” he says smiling though his embarrassment. This is also about the twentieth time he has said this tonight, and it’s always been to women. “This is my girlfriend, Lyndsay,” he introduces.

  “Hi Lyndsay. I’m Meryn. Mike doesn’t remember me but we spent a few days together in Tokyo last year.” Meryn scans me with her bright green eyes. She has to be wearing contacts, no one’s eyes are naturally that colour. “Maybe by this time next year, he won’t remember your name, either.” Meryn turns on her heels and walks away.

  “I shouldn’t have come,” I say quietly.

  “Mikey, darling,” I hear from behind us. I turn around to see a blonde woman bouncing over to Mike and she plants a kiss right on his lips. “You never called.” She pouts and tilts her head to the side.

  I recognise this woman. The last time I saw this woman, she was wearing red lingerie and Mike was kissing her.

  Now that she’s dressed I know who she is. She’s Rachel Sweet. Actress and model. I know very few things about Rachel Sweet. I know that she’s very beautiful. I know that she’s very rich and I know that she’s very young. I’m sure she’s not even twenty two yet.

  “Hi Rachel,” Mike says. Finally he remembers someone’s name.

  “I’m not your sweetheart anymore.” She’s still pouting.

  “Rachel, this is my girlfriend, Lyndsay.”

  Rachel starts to laugh. “Girlfriend. Oh I’m so sorry. I thought she must’ve been your little sister or something.” Rachel puts her hand out to me to shake. “I’ve known Mike for a really long time,” she says. “We’re good friends.”

  “It’s nice to meet you Rachel,” I say while I shake her hand politely. And I want to tell her I know her relationship with Mike has gone far beyond the stretches of friendship, but I’m so angry and humiliated right now, I decide to keep my mouth shut.

  Mike and Rachel are talking but I’m not hearing a single word of what they’re saying. I allow the noise of the room to drown out my thoughts and consciousness and I drift away. If I don’t, I’m worried I’ll do or say something I’ll regret.

  “Lynd’s?” Mike’s voice suddenly snaps me out of my reverie and I look up into his eyes. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “I’m really sorry about that. She’s always been affectionate.”

  “Affectionate?” I say. “Of course she’s affectionate. You had sex with her not so long ago, Mike. Or do you not remember?” I know my voice is accusing and I’m sure the look on my face matches it.

  Mike glares down at me. He opens his mouth to say something but decides against it. Instead, he grabs my hand and pulls me through the throngs of people. We walk down a narrow corridor and into a room which is far too brightly lit and full of instruments. “Lyndsay, you can’t get angry at me for what I’ve done in the past because that is exactly what it is, the past. It means nothing to me.”

  He’s let go of my hand and he has his back to me, standing just out of arms reach. He’s rubbing his face and neck.

  “I’m not angry at you...” I start.

  “You are angry at me. It’s all over your face.” He turns around now and looks at me. “This look you’re giving me right now is the exact same look you gave me when I first met you. And don’t tell me you weren’t angry at me then.”

  I take a deep breath in to stop the tears. “Mike, it’s hard for me to see all these beautiful women throwing themselves at you and expecting that they’ll be the one you take home tonight.”

  Mike shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter what they expect. I’m going home with you.”

  “It does matter.”

  “It doesn’t!” he yells at me. “I love you Lyndsay. I don’t know what I have to do to prove it to you. But I love you. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you and I never will.” His voice is still raised. He’s panting for air, his chest heaving as he tries to calm himself. He steps toward me and I instinctively step away.

  Then there is a knock at the door and a man comes in wearing a headset. “Mike, you’re on.”

  “I’ll be right out,” Mike says, still looking at me.

  The door closes and Mike steps toward me. He takes my right hand and slides the diamond ring from my finger.

  “I don’t know what to do to make you realise how much I love you. And I don’t know that I should have to prove it.”

  I take a staggered breath in. He’s going to end it, end us. My heart tears in my chest and the tears that are in my eyes are suddenly on my cheeks. Mike looks at the ring in his hand and then...he’s kneeling down in front of me. His brown eyes are pleading with me. He takes my left hand in his and I see his mouth move, but I don’t hear the words.

  ‘Will you marry me?’

  The door opens again and this time Gavin comes in. “Whoa,” he says. “Mike, what’s going on?”

  “I’m asking Lyndsay to marry me. Because I love her. And because she is the most beautiful woman in the world and because I can’t live without her and I need to lock her in before she realises she can do a whole lot better than me.”

  I shake my head. “No,” I say.

  “No?” Gavin and Mike both say.

  “Yes,” I say.

  “Yes,” Mike says sounding ho
peful.

  “No,” I say again.

  “What the hell is this?” This time, Liane comes into the room and stands next to Gavin.

  “I’m asking Lyndsay to marry me and she keeps changing her mind,” Mike says. The dark pleading look has gone and his face looks a little more relaxed now. He’s almost humoured by what is happening.

  “Well, maybe you should get up on stage and play a few songs and let the girl think about it,” Liane says.

  “No,” Mike says.

  “Yes,” I say.

  “Yes?” Mike and Gavin say in unison again.

  “No,” I say. I kneel down in front of Mike and take the ring from him. “Yes, I do love you. No, I am not the most beautiful woman in the world. Yes, you can live without me and no, I can’t do any better than you.” I slide the ring back onto my right ring finger. “Mike. I’m sorry. I can’t consent to marry you, not right now. We need more time together.”

  “Thank goodness someone is thinking with their head,” Liane says.

  “Mike, I will wear your commitment ring and I will never ever doubt your love for me. I promise you that.”

  “And Lyndsay, I will never give you reason to doubt.” He holds the back of my head and pulls me into him. He kisses me in a way that I know will never give me reason to doubt his intentions.

  “Okay, break it up, or do I need to throw a bucket of cold water over you?” Liane steps toward Mike and I. “You’re needed on stage, Mike. Or have you forgotten you are first and foremost a musician and entertainer?”

  Mike pulls out of the kiss and looks at me. He just looks at me.

  And again, I feel him.

  23.

  Steve wants to make us waffles again. It seems to be his favourite breakfast. Paul is here too. I don’t know how it all happened, but it happened very quickly.

  Last night, I watched Mike do his solo acoustic performance at the party. I think Mike had given Gavin some pretty strict instructions not to leave my side, because Gavin watched over me like a hawk. He stood behind me with one hand protectively on my shoulder.

  After Mike’s set, he wanted to leave immediately. Gavin was all for joining us. Somehow, Paul and Steve ended up in the car with us and they both stayed the night at Mike’s.

  I don’t know what’s going on with Paul. He’s been very quiet this morning. I think he’s trying to behave himself, hoping he’ll get his job back. I overheard Steve tell Mike that he’s not getting any offers from other bands. He even auditioned for a new band last week, but didn’t get the gig.

  “Lyndsay, do you know where the waffle iron is?” Steve asks me.

  I think for a moment, recalling some vague conversation about impressing a girl...

  “Gavin has it,” I say. “I’ll go get it. You start on the batter.” I am starving.

  Although we live in separate areas of the house, Gavin and Mike have the understanding that they can go into each other’s space and take whatever they damn well please. That “courtesy” has been extended to me. Last week, I caught Gavin going through the bathroom cupboard looking for tampons. Apparently his one night stand had left her handbag in the taxi.

  So it’s with no hesitation that I walk into Gavin’s kitchen to search for the waffle iron.

  I’m kneeling down in front of a cupboard when I hear footsteps behind me. “Gavin, where is the waffle iron?”

  “I’m not Gavin,” a feminine voice answers.

  I look up and am faced with a woman who looks like she’s come straight from the 1980’s London punk era. Her hair is shaved at the sides and the small amount of hair she has on top of her head is raised in a Mohawk. Her hair is bright white and pink. Her nose, lips, eyebrows, and cheeks are pierced, as are her ears, from the lobe all the way to the tip. She’s wearing purple lipstick, her eyes are decorated with black eyeliner and green eye-shadow, and her face is white. She’s wearing faded tight, blue denim jeans with black braces over her shoulders. On top, she’s only wearing a lacy top, which barely covers her breasts, which are not supported by a bra.

  On her arms, stomach, chest, neck and I’m assuming her back, are a variety of tattoo’s, all black, in various shapes and scripts.

  “Gavin is upstairs. You must be Lyndsay,” she says.

  “Yes, I’m Lyndsay. I’m looking for the waffle iron.”

  The woman nods her head. “Sorry, I don’t know where the waffle iron is.” She takes a seat at the bench. “I’m Jasmine, by the way.”

  I stand up quickly and I know my mouth has fallen open in astonishment. “You’re Jasmine.” It’s not really a question, more a statement of pure shock.

  “I’m Jasmine.”

  “His year is up,” I say. “Is Grace here?”

  “Yep. She’s upstairs with Gavin. They’re in the bath.”

  I laugh because the thought of Gavin in the bath with a baby is funny.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Jasmine.” I’m kind of flabbergasted by her appearance. The name Jasmine conjured up images of a blonde beauty, in my mind anyway, a sweet caring woman who didn’t want to spoil her daughters’ childhood by exposing her to drunken hooligans. But Jasmine seems far from the motherly type as I could possibly imagine.

  “Gavin has told me a lot about you,” she says. “Probably a lot of stuff you’d rather I didn’t know.”

  “Oh,” I say, knowing that she knows about my teen years.

  “Sorry, but he needed to tell someone. He was really upset about it. He loves you, you know, in a brotherly kind of way.”

  “I kinda love him too,” I say.

  “Yes, but you’re in love with Mike.” She says it so matter of fact that I don’t try to deny it. Why would I? I am in love with him.

  “I am,” I say.

  “Good. Hey listen, woman to woman, or girl, because you’re so young, I’m still crazy in love with Gavin. But he can’t know, because I want to make sure he’s not with me just to be with Grace. He’s asked me to move in with him, but I don’t want to.” She pats to the stool next to her. “Come sit for a minute, I want to ask you something.”

  I’m suddenly nervous because I don’t want to say anything that’s going to get Gavin into trouble and I can see where this conversation is headed.

  “I know Gavin has been with other women while we’ve been apart. I know, mostly because he’s told me he’s been with a few,” she emphasises the word ‘few’ by making quotation marks with her fingers, “but mostly I know because he needs to have sex. He can’t go without it for more than two days.” She reaches out and takes my hand in hers. “Have you slept with Gavin?”

  “No!” I answer instantly. “No never.” I shake my head to back up my statement.

  “He said the same thing.” She lifts my hand to her lips and kisses it. “We can be friends.”

  I find myself laughing because the thought of Jasmine and I having anything at all in common is beyond ludicrous. But she’s smiling at me. She has a sparkle in her eyes.

  “I’ve never had girl friends before,” she says. “I know I’m not particularly feminine looking, and a year ago, I would’ve punched you in the nose before kissing you. But I’ve softened a lot. Grace has made me more temperate. That girl has changed my life.” She looks toward the staircase. “And I’m hoping I can ask you for advice if and when I need it. Sometimes, I can’t help but think I’m the worse mother in the world.”

  “I think all mothers feel that way at one time.”

  “I feel that way all the time. It’s been really hard, being on my own, but I was so determined that Gavin had to get clean and prove himself. You have no idea how many times I wanted to call him and beg him to take me back.”

  “Well, he’s proved himself now.” I get up from the stool and go back to searching for the waffle iron. “Would you like to join us for breakfast? Steve is making waffles, Mike should be up by now. Have you met Mikey?”

  “No I haven’t, but Gavin says he’s a real cute kid.”

  “He is. Paul is here too.” I scre
w up my nose.

  “Not a fan?” Jasmine asks.

  “Not of Paul.”

  “You just need to kick him in the balls. That’s what I did. He’s never so much as frowned at me.”

  I laugh. “The next time he crosses the line, I’ll definitely take your advice on board.” I open another cupboard, and finally find what I’ve been looking for.

  Mike gathers Jasmine into his arms and lifts her clear off the ground. That’s some feat, considering Jasmine is not all that much shorter than Mike. He kisses her cheek and laughs. “It is so good to see you.”

  “It’s good to see you too, Mike. You’re looking good, or should I say, looking better. You’ve always looked good.”

  She hugs Steve and glares at Paul, who much to my amusement, steps away into the corner of the room.

  “So where is Grace? I’ve heard so much about her,” Mike says.

  “She’s having a bath with Gavin. I’ll go check on them in a few minutes.” Jasmine takes a seat on the couch and relaxes back. “Or maybe I won’t. This is the first time I’ve ever been without her.”

  “Don’t you have family who can help out?” I ask Jasmine.

  “My family are all in The States. They moved there when I was sixteen, but I flatly refused to go. I answered an ad in the window of the local milk bar requesting a roommate. That’s how I ended up living with Steve. That’s how I met Gavin.” She looks at Steve and smiles. Steve smiles shyly and looks away. “Those were some crazy years, hey Steve?”

  “They sure were,” Steve says.

  I look at Mike and he just shrugs his shoulders. I wonder what’s gone on between Steve and Jasmine. I also wonder just how many of the Blue Saturn extended family, Steve has slept with. Cherry and now Jasmine? I look at Steve and wonder what it is that the girls see in him. He’s not particularly good looking. He’s quiet, almost shy, unless he’s high or drunk. And then he’s just an idiot.

  “He’s a good kisser,” Jasmine says, as though she can read my thoughts. “And once he kisses you, you can’t stop. You open yourself up to him entirely.”