by Amy Lignor
Every nook and cranny held a new item that spoke to how much this woman knew and her passion to know more. Her screensavers flashed by—some were sports teams. Most I agreed with while some were squat, but it was always good to have debates on game day.
Raising my gaze to the second floor, I walked up the staircase to get closer to the truly beautiful posters that'd been mounted and hung on the wall. They were the covers of Beth's books. The one everyone was talking about stared back at me. The girl was lovely, but the nicks and scratches in her face and neck made her look like she'd gone through a war, wearing the brutal scars given to her by real life.
I nodded. I never got to read as much as I'd like, considering work was always at the doorstep, but I had read this. I remembered the characters, and the intense battle they'd gone through had been amazing to read.
I moved to the next in line. Apparently it was the 'Book Two' that everyone was waiting for, but this time a young man was on the cover wearing his nicks and scratches. This was the angel's partner, and his name was Matthew.
Moving on down the line, I was enthralled by the fact that a Western actually stood its ground among the supernatural and adventure. A book of a legend. Earp? The Kid? I made a mental note to find out whose history Beth had delved into, and then my gaze locked on the powerful eyes that'd been airbrushed on the top of the cover. Chocolate brown eyes stared out at the viewer, as if the author watched over the shadowed gunslinger below. Such beautiful eyes…
The familiar yin/yang symbol came next. Big and bold, the black and white was plain and simple, yet as the top opened up a light shone out that'd made readers scramble for this one as well. I knew this was the famous adventure series that'd begun in Beth's favorite library in the entire world.
The last one rested in the small alcove at the end of the balcony. This poster was small, offering the viewer a lone man sitting on a chair staring into the light above. There was one word, Father. It was a simple picture, but the look on the man's face was so poignant, so incredibly happy and full of hope, that I knew Beth had to have instructed the artist down to the very last detail in order to make sure they captured the emotions she felt in her heart.
I sighed, turning around and leaning on the balcony. This room definitely spoke volumes about Beth. She was not an easy mix, and this library mirrored that. Around every corner, buried in every shadow, was a new surprise just waiting to be discovered.
"I wondered why the door was open."
Her appearance made me jump so high I could picture myself going over the balcony. I looked down and immediately panicked. "Bobby let me in here. He told me to look around."
Her deep laugh rose up the staircase. "Don't worry. There's nothing in here you can't see."
Setting her bags on the emerald sofa, Beth stared up at me and nodded at the pictures. "I see you found my vanity wall. Total ego."
I laughed, knowing I had one at home just like it. "I love it. I love the whole place, in fact."
She stared at the ceiling and studied the walls that I knew she'd studied hundreds of times. "Yeah…it's relaxing in here. My world, I suppose."
"It's a nice world to have." I walked back along the balcony, as she picked up her bags and headed up the staircase toward me.
"I do need to be a little less scattered, however," she said, nodding at the notepads and paper strewn across one side of the desk.
"We're all guilty," I replied, thinking about the notepads strategically placed around my house and by my bed for any thoughts or ideas 'gifted' to me in the night for my songs.
She leaned up and kissed me on the cheek. Not ready for the surprise, I raised my eyebrow. "What's that for?"
Staring at what seemed like every line on my face before coming back to my eyes, Beth smiled. "Chris told me how you two met. So I guess that's for being a good guy."
I leaned in and touched her soft cheek with my lips, lingering a bit to breathe in the lavender scent before pulling away. "Bobby told me how you two met. So…right back at ya."
I glanced into one of the pink and black bags and caught sight of something green and silky. My imagination exploded. "What'd you get?"
"Perv." Beth punched me playfully in the gut.
"What?" I asked, attempting to register a look of shocked innocence. "So…entertain much?"
She sent a quick chuckle my way. "Girls like beautiful things."
"That's not what I asked." I tried to keep the lust from my voice even though my brain and body were not helping out.
Turning away from me, Beth walked to the polished wood door. "Bobby and I are headed for the bar, you both are certainly welcome to join us," she said, completely ignoring the moment. "I'm gonna shower and change."
I leaned back against the wall. "Huh. They were wrong."
"What?"
I looked through the crack of the door and spied the huge bed against the far wall. "I always heard they were gates."
Completely confused, Beth peered into the room. "What are gates?"
I smirked. "Heaven. You know? To get in you have to go through gates." I reached out and tapped on the solid wood. "Turns out it's actually a door."
The beautiful brown eyes rolled skyward. "Now that was a bad line."
Patting her on the shoulder, forcing myself back down the stairs and away from her as fast as possible, I laughed. "Well, us L.A. guys don't have much in our repertoire."
As the door closed, I took a deep breath. If I didn't learn how to exhale around Beth soon, I would see Heaven way sooner than I wanted to.
Twelve
~ His ~
The bar was cool.
Spending most of my time in New York and L.A.—home to all the busy and loud 'hot spots' which I tried never to visit—the small town atmosphere was a nice scene. The building was large and a long bar was the place of congregation for the milieu of locals shooting the shit.
The stage was set up for a band, and people of all ages were milling around the dance floor to the sound of piped-in music. Beer bottles were clanking against one another, and I could smell the very delicious scent of real barbecue being created somewhere behind the big, white doors behind the bar.
I thought we would look like a strange crowd, but as Bobby and Chris took the lead, the friendly greetings were immediate. Bobby's name rang out from more than a few people and I laughed. "Seems he's a popular fellow."
Beth smiled. "Oh, yeah. Bobby is the resident dreamboat."
I raised an eyebrow.
"No, seriously. He's gay, so he's safe as far as the men are concerned because they don't have to worry about him getting their girls. And the girls love him because he's a romantic dream to fantasize about, but he can also talk to them about men, fashion, and music while he's talking to their significant others about sports. He kind of fits every type. Chris will probably be bored, though."
"Why's that?"
"Because many, many people try to monopolize Bobby's time," she said, with a grin.
Walking through the open doors behind them, I stared at the couple who'd already trapped Bobby. Introducing Chris, who was smiling at his side, they all went to the tables together. "Something tells me Bobby will make sure he's included."
Beth smiled so sweetly I could actually see the happiness for her friend beaming in those stunning eyes. "I do believe you're right."
Without thinking, I placed my hand on her back and led the lady toward the bar. Voices shouted 'Beth' from every corner, and it was as if the Queen had just arrived.
~ Hers ~
Christie ran into my arms so fast I almost tumbled into Matt who was standing behind me. His arm tightened around my waist so I wouldn't fall, and I suddenly felt bad for the guy. It seemed like every five minutes I was landing against him or falling into his lap. He must be sick to death of me by now.
"Beth, thank god. I hoped you'd be here tonight."
I looked closer at Christie and saw the red lines around her eyes. She'd obviously been here for a while. "What's the m
atter?"
Tears burst from her as fast as the coffee had exploded from Matt's mouth. "I know he's cheating on me."
I sighed deeply. Christie had one of those relationships that all bad country songs were written about. But loving her to death, I led her across the floor to the bar, shouting out my greetings at friends passing by.
Halfway across the dance floor, I stopped and turned in Matt's arms, pointing to the nook that Bobby had selected where he and Chris had already set up shop for the night. I leaned into his chest and whispered in his ear. "Do you want a beer?"
The hot breath tickled my ear. "Yes, please."
Stepping back, I looked into the smiling face. "You got it."
I tried to turn, but Matt waited a bit before letting go, keeping his gaze on me until Christie practically ripped my arm out of the socket in order to make me move. "I'm serious, Beth. He's cheating!"
I sighed and turned away from the handsome man, giving my complete attention to the friend who, once again, had decided to give her heart to an utter moron.
~ His ~
You know that feeling you get when someone pulls something from your grasp that you have to have? It's probably what a baby feels like when you take their favorite blanket away, or when someone rips the 'the brass ring' from your hand in order to give it to the guy next to you who really doesn't deserve it.
That's what I felt like when Beth was pressed into me. My arms were around her and I suddenly had to let go for some young girl. I know, I sound like a five-year-old on the playground kicking sand in someone's face, but it really wasn't fair.
Beth's beautiful head of hair disappeared into the crowd at the bar, and I wandered over to the table with Chris and Bobby. Along the way I was asked for some autographs and did the meet-and-greet thing but thankfully, they weren't overbearing—which probably stemmed from the fact that they weren't star struck; some pretty big names were in the area on a daily basis.
Sitting down, I looked back at the bar, spying Beth with Christie in the corner. She had her hand on the girl's back as the dirty-blonde head leaned forward, crying so hard that I thought she might faint from sudden dehydration. Beth was whispering to her, and I could almost imagine the kind words that were coming through those sweet lips as she tried to console her friend…
~ Hers ~
"Christie, the guy is a dick! Why do you just keep going from one to the next? You know they'll hurt you, so why can't you just wait for a good one to come along?"
She raised her head and I reached for a napkin, trying to wipe the tears and runny nose. "Oh, come on, Beth. You and I both know we live in the middle of freaking nowhere. There are no nice ones here, and I'm not like you—I can't be a spinster this young."
I felt the kick in the gut even though she was completely right. But I didn't want to live alone; I wanted the touch of a man I loved and who loved me but…well, it just never happened. Unfortunately, they always opened their mouths and shot out some stupid line to make any attraction I originally felt fold like an umbrella in a hurricane. Except…
I shot a glance at Bobby's table, watching Matt as he wore that fake smile and signed a piece of paper for Marla. Marla was on it, as always. She was the resident Mrs. Robinson—older, wiser, clothed in a pencil skirt, and carrying a cigarette holder to make herself look more endearing to the younger man. I almost laughed out loud when I saw Matt's face change from the practiced celebrity stance to a boy who looked more than slightly worried that he was about to get attacked by this very determined woman.
"So?"
My focus snapped back to Christie. "So what?"
Her frustration was rising with her tears. "What do I do? How do I get him back if he's cheating on me?"
"If he's cheating on you why the hell would you want him back?"
She pounded her fist on the table. "Ohhh, you don't understand!"
~ His ~
Wow. I watched the older woman saunter away; her hips swayed back and forth like a pendulum as she sent me a 'cougar-like' smile over her shoulder.
Looking down at the paper with her phone number scrawled across it, I felt ill. No, not because she was at least three decades older than I was, but because she seemed to be carving a new notch in her bedpost even though I'd explicitly declined her very generous offer.
Glancing into the corner, I saw the blonde girl rise from her chair, kiss Beth on the cheek and head to the dance floor. She immediately began dancing with some guy, and I wondered if this was the man who had just stomped on her heart.
Beth just sat there on her stool, rolling her eyes and downing a beer. I went to join her, and just as I was about to sit down, an elderly man with a cowboy hat appeared and pulled her into his arms. "There's my Bethie!"
The smile that lit her face was one that should be framed and hung in a gallery, it was that lovely.
"Jerry! How are you?"
The cheerful man who resembled John Wayne more than a little, took a seat beside her, as she saw me turn to go back to the table.
"No, Wait! Matt, come here."
My heart jumped a bit, as she grabbed my hand and drew me to the other stool.
"Jerry, Matt. Matt, Jerry."
Jerry stuck out his hand and tipped his white Stetson. "How are you, son?"
As I stared into a face that'd really lived, I recognized him from the photograph in Beth's library. His voice was low and deep, with a gravelly tone that spoke of time, happiness and some whiskey mixed in for good measure. I felt as if Jerry was the owner of a life story that should be put to music immediately. "Pleased to meet you, Sir."
He waved his hand in front of his face, as if erasing the silly words. "Just Jerry." The old man shot me a sideways glance. "You being good to this gal?"
Beth smiled wide. "Jerry, Matt is not a boyfriend he's a friend."
"Another Bobby, huh?"
I chimed in. "No, not a Bobby, a friend."
"Uh, huh."
"Jerry, stop. Matt is a very nice man who's going to perform Father on Broadway for me."
Jerry sat back on his stool; his cobalt blue eyes looked like they belonged in the face of a man half his age, what with the sparkle that was coming from them. "That right? You're an actor?"
I nodded. "Try to be, Sir…Jerry."
The deep laugh came from the gut. "Ahh, Missy loved actors." He turned to Beth. "Remember?"
Beth nodded. "She sure did, but Newman was the fav, I believe."
He sighed. "Oh, yeah. When that guy moved into town, I knew I was in for a fight to keep that gal of mine."
Beth patted his hand. "I think Newman had a gal, too."
Jerry winked. "Not as lovely as mine."
"Did he come in here a lot?" I asked, absolutely intrigued by the man before me.
Jerry shook his head. "Not often. Just when he raced his car up at the track. Nice enough, fella. So…you act. Must live in New Yawk?"
I grinned at the accent. "For a while. I actually live out in California most of the time now."
"Oh." Jerry's eyes rolled. "All that sunshine is bad for you."
Beth squeezed the weathered hand. "Sunshine is good for you, Jerry. Lots of Vitamin D."
"I see the TV. All those women showing off everything God gave them in those disgusting bathing suits. No ladies out there," he said, sniffing the air.
Beth slapped his shoulder. "Jerry that was Baywatch. I'm sure there are very nice and very classy ladies out in California."
Jerry reached out and touched her cheek. "We claim the classiest."
I couldn't disagree.
"So, boy. What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be over on that Broadway?"
I cleared my throat, wishing I could tell him the real reason I couldn't leave his town. "I needed the author's help to make sure my performance is good enough. I want to deliver."
"Oh, man, I forgot!" Beth jumped up from her stool and touched me on the shoulder. "I totally drank your beer. Be right back."
Watching her head to the bar, I moved
my gaze back to Jerry as fast as possible, staring into the 'knowing' face. Any man will tell you what this looks like. It's the look one guy gives another—no matter what the age—that says, Don't bother lying because I can see right through you.
Jerry waited for me to speak.
I took a deep breath. "I'm doing the play and I met Amber, so I do want to do a good job. Beth has trusted me with a truly fantastic script and I want to make her proud."
He waited; those blue eyes seemed to turn into silver steel and never wavered from my face.
"And…I wanted to get to know Beth better. I think she's…remarkable."
He nodded slowly. "How long you been here?"
I looked down at the table; I actually couldn't believe the answer. "I met Beth yesterday morning in New York."
The laugh that came from Jerry's throat was the laugh of a man who had seen the bad in life, so when he was happy he made sure that everyone knew it. He grabbed my shoulder. "Yeah, that's about what it would take with Beth."
I laughed with him.
"It only took me an hour."
"I'm sorry?"
Jerry smiled; his eyes grew distant. "One hour before I fell for the love of my life."
I grinned. "And where is she tonight? I would love to meet her."
His smile immediately vanished and I suddenly felt like crawling under the table. "I'm so sorry," I whispered.
The twinkle returned to his eyes. "So am I. But…Missy and I had fifty-six years together, so we had a good, long run. And I'll see her again. Soon, hopefully."
"Where did you two meet?" I had to ask. As a romantic at heart, I love a love story.
"She was a nurse in WWII, I was a soldier. I know, sounds like a romance novel, but Missy was the one who took care of me after the Japs took their shot."
"You were…were you at Pearl Harbor, Sir?
His mind seemed to go back in time to an image I would assume one never forgets. "Believe it or not, part of the Independence. I wasn't aboard that day; I was off-base. Ran, I did, when I heard those planes. Shrapnel, hospital, dead brothers, the whole nine yards…but we don't need to talk about that."