“So, where does this leave us, then?” he gently asked, pulling away only slightly.
“Tell me something. Why do I feel I know you? You seem so familiar.”
He shrugged. “Does it really matter? Should we question fate? Or go from here and discover ourselves?”
He sat quietly, waiting. I reached for my pack, which had the printouts from the library. Taking them out, I started the questions.
“I went to the library to use their computers, since mine is dead. I found this stuff,” I said, showing him a photograph. “Who is this—really?” I asked, trying to be tactful, handing him the printout.
“It’s my father. That was taken when my parents were in a band. He sang lead, my mother played keyboards. I think this was taken around 1959 or so,” he said.
His answer felt well-practiced. “You could be his twin,” I said as I watched Andrew approach with our drinks and what looked like a tray of appetizers.
“Thank you, Mr. Andrew,” I said as I took my glass of soda. Trying to be polite, I reached for a stuffed mushroom.
“Oh, just call me Andrew, Ms. O’Day.” He turned to go.
I raised my eyebrows at this; Geoffrey hadn’t said my last name when he introduced us. He must have talked about me before if Andrew knew it.
“Would you like one?” I asked, holding up a mushroom.
He took a long sip from his glass and smiled. “No, I’m good for now.” His eyes twinkled brightly in the dim lights.
The mushrooms were delicious but hot; I burnt my tongue and ended up chugging my pop. Then I slid down off the couch onto the bear rug in front of the fire, staring at the flames. I wrapped my arms around my legs and closed my eyes, just breathing.
She’s so close… yet she has no idea.
My eyes flashed open. I knew I heard his voice in those words. “What did you say?” I asked him.
“Not a thing. Is there something you’d like for me to say?” he countered. I turned back to the flames and tried to focus on the heat. My heart was racing; I didn’t understand what was happening.
Just then two others came in. I instantly recognized them from the band. First was Robert, with his Vogue magazine looks, kick-ass blonde hair that was constantly changing colors in the spotlights. He always seemed to be flirting with the crowd, but in the shadows, giving Geoffrey free rein of the front audience. Mitch was behind him. He was as big as a linebacker for the Seattle Seahawks. The man made Phil Collins look like a beginner on the drums, the way he made them sing.
There was something about them, though, that I picked up as they walked in. They were just as pale as Geoffrey. It was probably because they only played at night, and perpetual darkness will drain folks of color, even in the Northwest. What really caught my attention, though, was that they shared the same amazing eyes as Geoffrey.
They glanced over at me, then at Geoffrey, with the briefest of smiles.
“Hey, Meg. Nice to see you,” Robert said, reaching toward me to shake hands. I quickly put my hand out and noticed instantly that he had the same cold hands as Geoffrey, and just as strong. But hey, bass players have strong hands and arms, right?
Mitch nodded his head to me but didn’t say a word.
“Hi, Robert. Hi, Mitch. It’s nice to see you again. Would you like some?” I said, holding up the plate of mushrooms.
“Oh, we’re good, thanks,” Robert answered with a smile. “Hey, Geoffrey. Mitch and I had a couple of questions about the new set. We’re headed down to the studio for a bit to work on it.” He gestured toward the door.
Geoffrey turned to me, kneeling down so we were eye to eye. “Meg, I must beg your pardon for a moment, all right? Please make yourself at home. I shouldn’t be long,” he said, then he kissed my cheek lightly.
Every time we were near each other, and especially when we were touching, there was this crazy kind of connection between us. When they left, I felt very alone in the large open room. Taking a deep breath, I stood up and strolled back into the den. Pictures of various sizes, some black and white, others sepia, dotted the shelving between the books. They seemed to be family pictures: children playing, smiles, and holidays playing out. As I glanced at them, something tugged at my memories. I had no family pictures because of a fire that had consumed our home shortly after mom died.
I thought it best to leave before I was caught wandering in his study. I opened the French doors that led out to a porch that ran the full length of this side of the house. The night wrapped around the house like a blanket, and a deep roof overhang hid the stars. I peeked out from underneath to see the sky full of diamonds on black velvet. There were no city lights here to diffuse their beauty. The porch was very wide and roomy, with a few wooden lounge chairs and small tables. A telescope perched near the end corner caught my eye. I spied through it to discover an amazing view of the heavens, full of color and pulsing stars.
The fresh air cleared my mind. The silence of the night was pleasantly heavy; the sound of wildlife that scurried up and down the trees and hillside made me feel like I’d left my own world, tumbling into this one. It brought back memories of when I was young and by myself, discovering and having adventures on my own. Which reminded me, of course, of the memory of Geoffrey, there in the collapsed cave with me. Had I imagined him in my dream? He couldn’t have been there, right? That was eighteen years ago; it seemed a lifetime ago.
Maybe I was losing it.
I stared out into the night, then closed my eyes, and felt as much of it as possible. A cool breeze came and I welcomed it. My eyes still closed, I slipped off my jacket to let the air pass over my arms and face, relaxing me from head to toe. I let my hands rest on the smooth wood railing. As a little girl, I’d wander through the woods when the stress of home would be at its worst. There I could sense the living creatures, not just hear them. I’d always had that little quirk, but I never shared it—not even with my mom.
“I see you found my hideaway,” Geoffrey said.
The sensation of his breath on my shoulder made me jump. “Holy crap, don’t do that!” I gasped. After my heart started again, I looked up at him. Part of me wanted to walk away; the other part found his smirk totally charming.
“I’m sorry. I beg your forgiveness,” he said. “Startling you wasn’t my intention.”
Okay, now I felt like a schmuck. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you.” I smiled, feeling more than a bit guilty. “It’s so beautiful here, so peaceful. I’m usually not this open to new things. But I feel completely at ease here, almost as if I’ve been here before.”
We stared at each other, our eyes locked as we wrapped our arms around each other. I found myself relishing the small bubble of joy that was welling up inside me.
“Look, I hardly know you,” I began, faltering. “But I feel as though I’ve known you for a long time.” I lost my train of thought, mixed with all the random memories coming up so fast. I turned my eyes away, my own self-doubt creeping up inside.
He took my chin in his hand, lifting it so I could see the empathy and gentleness in his eyes. “You can ask me anything, Megan. Just make sure you want to know the answer first, because I’ll never lie to you.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “Plus, I want to apologize for the other night. I didn’t mean to get so caught up, but you’re just so…” His voice trailed off and he smiled a little, his lips lifting on one side.
“So what?” I asked.
“Tempting. That’s is the only way I can describe it,” he said, looking sheepishly at me through his beautiful sapphire eyes.
Me, tempting? Now there’s a word I never thought would describe me.
“Apology accepted,” I said with a laugh. “Besides—” I rolled my eyes, grinning, “I didn’t exactly mind it.” I felt my cheeks burn with my lame attempt at flirting… but I had to be honest with him; he deserved that, since he did save me. “Geoffrey, it usually takes
me a long time to let someone get close to me—just ask Ashleigh,” I said, struggling for words. “I’m taking a chance letting you inside… it’s always easier to hide than hurt. I don’t want to hurt you either; maybe it would be better if I left now. But—” I looked away, not able to look at him anymore, “I’m finding that when it comes to you, I’m enjoying our time together a little. Well, not so little, actually.”
I felt so open, so raw. I was expecting reality to set in at any moment; he would make it clear that the attraction was one-sided. It wouldn’t be the first time a guy had done that. We leaned up against the railing as he took my head in his hands, moving in closer. His eyes never wavered. I didn’t move an inch myself, but my heart wanted to jump out of my chest.
“You’re free to go any time, Meg. But my wish is that you’d want to stay. When you’re beside me, I have a sense of being—”
“Complete.” I finished his sentence as he thought it.
“Yes. Complete. I never realized what I was missing. When Ashleigh introduced us, the only way I can explain it is that the puzzle pieces fell into place. And I haven’t rested since.”
We stood there, wrapped in a blanket of starlight. I sighed, looking up at him. He seemed to be listening to something; his eyes were shut, and his head was tilted just so, with a small smile creeping across his face.
He looked down at me. “It feels like your heartbeat is slowing down finally.”
My cheeks flamed again. He must be able to feel it, holding me. He raised my chin with his fingers, concern crossing his face for a split second.
“I should get you home. You’re tired.” His voice sounded sad at the thought.
“Is it that noticeable?” I said. But I didn’t want the night to end. And I still wanted answers to all my questions.
“Come on, let’s go,” he said, turning towards the glass door. “Andrew?” he called out, barely above a whisper, but instantly it seemed that Andrew was by the glass doors.
I was surprised he could he hear us outside.
“Yes, sir?”
“Could you bring the Mustang around? I’ll be taking Megan home.”
Andrew smiled and turned to go.
“Where are Robert and Mitch?” I asked. “Did they leave already?”
“No, they’ll crash downstairs,” he said as we crossed the dining room toward the entryway. We made our way through the front of the house and out to a lovely circular drive. Even in the darkness I could make out the gardens that melted into the night. Andrew pulled up in the Mustang, which was warming up quickly. I didn’t know all that much about cars but I could tell this one was very well maintained. It purred all the way down the long driveway and out toward the highway.
He tried to ask me about my parents, and my childhood home on the forested hill in Puyallup, but I just shrugged it off by mumbling something about there not being much to say. I avoided talking about my parents; there were a lot of hard memories that I didn’t want to relive. He seemed to understand and went on to more trivial things like my favorite color and what I liked to eat and drink. I blurted out responses without thinking much, and before I knew it we were pulling up to my place. Even though the sky didn’t hint at it, I knew morning was coming. I was feeling kind of sluggish, and by the time I undid the seatbelt he was already at my door, taking me by the hand to help me out. He really was old-school in style, I realized; it’s something guys just don’t do anymore.
As we approached the elevators, he asked again about my childhood. “What was your hill like?”
“We moved there when I was only a baby—about three months old, I think,” I answered, too tired to change the conversation. “The woods around our house were dense, old-growth fir trees and cottonwoods. There were always white tuffs of fluff floating in the air. My dog and I used to come home covered in mud, and my mom used to get upset when we’d come home completely filthy.”
I looked down at the floor, remembering that time. It seemed so far away now. I tried to find a happier memory to share. I didn’t want to sink down in the dark hole that always followed such recalling thoughts. He was so easy to talk to that sharing things seemed to be easier as well. I wasn’t used to that. It was almost too comfortable, if there is such a thing.
“One time, I found this really cool cave…” I trailed off, allowing the memory to replay before my eyes. It was like I could close them and I’d be right back there again.
He took my hand in his and raised it up, kissing my wrist with a thoughtful look on his face. Then we got inside the elevator and he pushed the button to force the doors closed. This time the lights stayed on. He glanced at me from the corner of his eye, looking up and down my body.
I could have sworn I heard him say, Is she strong enough?
“Did you just ask me something?” I asked. I tugged on my ears, trying to clear them out of whatever was causing me to hear voices as we got off the elevator and walked towards my door.
“No… but perhaps you wanted to ask me something?” His grin looked calculating. I knew that look; he was trying to get me to invite him in again, but there were still questions and doubts weighing on me.
“I’d like to invite you in—” He raised his eyebrow, leaning his body closer against my door. But I wasn’t going to fall for that trick. “But as much as I’d enjoy that, it’s late and I think we should call it a night, for now.” I didn’t want to totally shut him out; while I felt that maybe, just maybe, there was potential here, the chemistry was a bit addicting. I didn’t want to go full throttle into it—at least not yet.
He slowly reached up, brushing the few stray strands of hair out of my eyes and gently kissed my forehead. It was either his cologne or his breath that was intoxicating, I didn’t know which.
“Till tomorrow, then. Sweet dreams.” I unlocked the door, and he turned and walked away, making me wish for a do-over. Before he stepped on the elevator, he turned to look back at me one more time as I stood there on the threshold, and he winked. Even from here, his blue eyes gave me goosebumps in the best possible way.
I tossed my keys and pack on the table, wanting to stay awake long enough to make sense of everything: the images, the voices, and what they were saying inside my head. Was I going crazy? Is this what falling for someone felt like? So many
questions—and just as equally, so few answers. I peeled off my clothes, raked a brush through my hair, and didn’t even try to brush my teeth, I was so tired. I grabbed my iPod and ear buds, wanting nothing but music to soothe away the confusion.
Soon the images became dreams, or maybe it was the other way around? I didn’t know when I fell asleep. Images of Geoffrey, my cave, and even The Stage played out over and over in my mind. His skin, his sweet breath, and his eyes boring into my soul—all of these were keys; I knew it in my heart.
But keys to what? I couldn’t make the pieces fit in the puzzle that was Geoffrey. I felt him walking with me into the woods, and then I saw him in the cave, lifting me out of the hole. The images flickered back to his house, then to the alley. I kept turning around in circles, seeing all the scenes from my life merging, blending. It meant something.
I reached out, trying to make sense of it. My hands looked the same as his: pale yet glowing, bright under the spotlight of the stage. He stood next to me, his arms wrapped around me. We smiled at one another. Why was I on stage? What could I possibly be doing on it? I’m terrified of being out in public—let alone having attention pointed toward me. I tried to speak, but he put his fingers to my lips.
“Shh. Trust me. Don’t be afraid. I’m here just as I’ve always been.” He brushed my cheek with the back of our intertwined hands.
I backed away from him, not understanding what was happening. Is this real? Am I still dreaming? I could see him and the other band members—Pepper, Robert, Mitch, and even Tracy—and I could see Ashleigh in the wings, waving her arms, gesturing at me to
come over to her. And Chase, of all people, was climbing up on the stage as well, extending his hand toward me, pointing to the exit door, wanting me to come with him.
What’s going on? Why did Ash and Chase want me to go with them? I closed my eyes, willing them to go away. I spun around, trying to leave, but around and around the images swirled; Geoffrey in the cave, Geoffrey on stage, never eating, never aging. His movements were too quick, his voice was too compelling, and the way he talked—the words he used—no one talks that way anymore.
I tried to leave the stage by walking through the curtains, but I got tangled up in the fabric. I twisted and thrashed about, trying to break out, but the more I struggled, the more entangled I became. At last I broke free and raced into a whiteout, the light overpowering everything around me. I squinted, covering my eyes with my hand. My breathing slowed and I peeked out through my lashes. It was a new day.
Suddenly, like a bolt of lightning, all the scrambled puzzle pieces fell into place. Every little detail that I knew about him came together and made perfect sense; the clarity was so precise that there was no room left for doubt. It was a good thing I was lying down. My senses were on overload with fear, with curiosity. I was no longer asleep.
Him! It wasn’t an accusation, but a realization. He was the one who saved me in the cave when I was little, and his was the presence that I’ve always felt—the voice I’ve always heard.
Chapter 9
I held my breath, unsure of what came next. As I child, I’d wander our woods, daydreaming of mythical creatures, anything to escape the violence of my stepfather, who made it a regular job to verbally abuse my mother and me. She’d do her best to shield me—even put herself in his path when words weren’t enough to vent his rage.
I used to escape through TV shows and movies; they were the only refuge from life as I knew it. But there was no movie screen in front of me, playing out scenes from horror flicks, rescued damsels in distress—and certainly no holy water to ward off evil spirits. My dreams over the last month had been trying to tell me something.
The Stage Page 9