“That chair was ugly anyway,” said Steve, before carefully extricating their tangled limbs and rising from the shattered ruins.
Chapter 12
“GOOD NEWS!” said Autumn as she opened the door to their apartment and came inside. Steve glanced up from the stack of papers he was working on and smiled. “I don’t have to work tomorrow after all!”
“Did Tammy switch with you again?”
“No, I got another job!”
“Oh yeah? At PetSmart?”
“No,” said Autumn, wrinkling her nose. “Sal just opened a tattoo parlor right on the river, and he said I can start the day after tomorrow!”
Steve’s smile faded and his lips pursed in a pout. “Sal? The ex-boyfriend Sal?”
Autumn put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Yes, we used to date. So what?”
“So you’ll be working for your ex.”
“Oh my god,” she said, shaking her head, “you’re jealous. I can’t believe that you of all people are going to get jealous of—”
“And how am I supposed to feel about it?”
“I don’t know, you could try and feel happy for me that I’ll be doing something I love, rather than asking some dipshit if he wants fries with his Big Mac.”
Steve sighed, rubbed his eyes. “I trust you, I just don’t trust him.”
Autumn rolled her almond shaped eyes, then sat down heavily in one of the surviving chairs. “Trust me, he’s not going to force himself on me, or anything like that. Sal’s a sweet guy, he just…”
“He just what?”
“Never mind. What are you working on?”
“Just some stuff,” he said, dragging the papers into a stack.
Autumn snagged a yellow sheet and peered at it. She set the paper back on the table and stared him squarely in the eye. “You’re paying bills. Let me help.” She dug in her purse for her billfold.
Steve put a hand on her wrist, stopping her. “I can take care of it. You make minimum wage.”
“I used to make minimum wage. Now I get ten bucks an hour, plus commission.”
“That’s very generous of Sal,” he said, unable to keep the grimace off his face.
“You want me to fucking quit?” Autumn leaned forward, slapping her palms on the table on either side of her purse. “I’ll fucking quit. I’ll just keep pouring coffee and smiling at every mouth breather who says ‘hey baby, do the tattoos go all the way down?’ I’ll keep the miserable fucking job I have now so you won’t have your manhood threatened.”
“I don’t want you to quit.”
“Yes, you do. It’s written all over your square-jawed face!”
“Maybe I do want you to quit, but that doesn’t mean I think you should.”
Autumn stood up and angrily snapped her purse shut. She stalked toward the door, limbs stiff and eyes narrowed to slits.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“Out for a walk, if that’s all right with my master…I mean my boyfriend.”
Steve winced as the door slammed with a shuddering impact. He held his face in his hands and sighed.
“Was I out of line, Ma?” Steve asked into his phone as he ate beans right out of the can. “Am I a jealous asshole boyfriend?”
“You’ll have to decide that for yourself,” said the warm, if a bit world-weary voice in his ear. “It’s up to you if you trust her or not.”
“Yeah, I thought you’d say something like that. Thanks for nothing.”
“Oh, Steven. Your father says Autumn seems like a nice girl. Try not to run her off like the last one, okay?”
“I didn’t run Cathy off. She dumped me because I wasn’t ‘mature’ enough for her.”
His mother chuckled softly into his ear. “Don’t you think your own fear of being abandoned is clouding your judgment? Either you trust her and she cheats or doesn’t, or you don’t and she cheats or doesn’t. All you’re doing is working yourself up and creating drama where there isn’t any.”
“Then what should I do?” he asked around a mouthful of masticated legumes.
“Go and meet this Sal. You might be surprised.”
“Bah,” said Steve, sending bean juice out to spatter on the floor. “That sounds like a waste of time.”
“Steve, you’re six and a half feet tall and more burly than your father. If nothing else, see it as a way to scare the hell out of him.”
“Now you’re speaking my language!”
“Try and be patient. The course of true love never did run smoothly.”
“No, no, it does not.”
“What’s wrong, honey?”
“Nothing, and everything. I just realized I’ve been acting like a jerk, when Autumn’s got her own problems to work out.”
“All right, dear, I have to go. It’s very late here.”
“I know, Ma, and thanks for listening. I love you.”
“And I love you.”
He set his phone down and sighed. He glanced at the muted television weather report, noted that the temperature was in the single digits. Suddenly sick with worry, he grabbed his coat and left the apartment, donning the garment as he rapidly descended the stairs. On the way he checked to see if any of his half dozen texts had been answered, grumbling when he saw that they hadn’t. He burst out the door at street level just as a highly polished red BMW pulled up to the curb, streetlights reflecting off its surface. Steve’s brow knitted as he recognized Crawley in the back seat, and even more so when Autumn got out on the opposite side.
“Hey,” she said in a subdued tone.
“Hey,” he said, hands jammed in his pockets due to the cold.
“Just a second.” She ducked her head back into the car to say her farewells. When she rose back up, a slight smile was on her face. She stepped up onto the curb and went to him, wrapping her arms around his torso in a tight hug. He returned the embrace, laying his cheek next to hers.
“I’m sorry,” they both said at once, eliciting a burst of nervous laughter.
“I’m sorry,” said Steve, hand on the back of her head stroking her long hair. “I should have been more trusting.”
“Oh, whatever, I’d be pretty jealous too, if you started working for one of your exes. I’m just made of bitch.”
Steve pulled back from the embrace to look her in the eyes. “Don’t say that. I can be a pain in the ass sometimes, too.”
They went back into the apartment, her leaning heavily on his shoulder.
“So, how come the Crawleys were giving you a ride?”
“Oh, they found me at a diner down the road and fed me. I think I know why Creepy has so many problems.”
“Oh,” said Steve, fumbling with his keys, “why is that?”
“Her father is a tool.”
Steve arched an eyebrow and clucked his tongue.
“Well, he is. Not only does he think that the world is only six thousand years old, he wants Ellie to date a nice Catholic boy and squeeze out a half dozen puppies for him to dote on. And don’t get me started on what he thinks of a woman’s right to choose.”
“You left him breathing, right?”
“He’s in one piece,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. “Mostly!”
Crawley’s long, muscular fingers flew rapidly over Molly’s strings, a veneer of intense concentration on her fine features. Occasionally, she would make a mistake, and an odd note would cause her face to crinkle up. Despite her own harsh criticism of herself, the faces of her bandmates were pleased.
Phil, seated in his corner of Rex’s garage, had a wide-eyed smile on his face as his girlfriend shredded through “Freebird.” Rex, hidden behind his drum kit, was fiercely pleased with her performance, causing his own to be more vigorous.
The lead singer was nodding his head and holding up a lit lighter. He was tall and lanky, his tow head nearly brushing the low ceiling. His Slavic features, a long wide nose and decidedly pointed chin, made him look a bit silly, but nobody would never mock his powerful singing voi
ce.
Blinking the sweat out of her eyes, she ground through the outro.
When they were finished, Sven clapped his hands and whooped. “That was awesome, ja?”
“Oh, ja,” said Rex, standing up and clapping himself.
“I think we’re ready,” said Phil.
“Honestly,” said Crawley, though she beamed from the praise, “I think Rex shouldn’t be allowed to have any caffeine. He keeps speeding up when he gets excited.”
“Don’t be worrying,” said Sven, “the beer will counteract the effects, ja?”
“Yeah,” said Phil. “We took a road trip up to Maine and Rex showed up with his only suitcase full of beer.”
They had a laugh at Rex’s expense, though he seemed not to be too terribly offended.
“Explain to me again,” said Phil, coming over to speak with Rex while Sven tuned his bass guitar with Crawley’s assistance, “why we have to work on a night when everyone else is partying?”
“Exposure,” said Rex with a grin on his homely face. “This party is probably going to be huge. Chet has a six-car garage, and it was packed with people last New Year’s. Eve I told Chet he should have a live band next time, and he asked me if I knew any, and here we are.”
“Yeah,” said Phil, glancing nervously at Crawley, “but I’ve never had a girlfriend on New Year’s Eve before. I was kind of looking forward to—”
“You can play ‘hide the salami’ after our last set,” said Rex with a shrug. “Besides, look how excited she is. You know how much of a thrill it is to play for a live audience the first time, even if you’re not getting paid to do it.”
“We’re not getting paid?” Phil asked in alarm.
“A little bit,” said Rex, his eyes narrowing. “Three hundred in cash, plus we get to drink for free.”
“Guess it’s too late to back out now,” said Phil, running a hand over the peach fuzz he no doubt thought of as a mustache.
“Glad you see it my way,” said Rex. “Now shave that pathetic cunt hair off of your face!”
“Stop it,” said Autumn harshly, glaring at Steve on the sofa.
“Stop what?”
“Ever since you found that stupid bottle, you wince whenever I sneeze, groan, or fart. It’s annoying as hell, so stop it.”
“I hadn’t realized,” said Steve, chewing his lower lip.
“Well, it’s stupid and unnecessary, so stop it.”
Steve sighed, rubbed his fingers along the bridge of his nose, and then gave her a small smile. “I’ll try to keep it in check.”
“You’d better,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. “I never want you to treat me like a porcelain doll. Hell, you know how much I love it when you throw me around.”
Steve shook his head and smiled a bit bashfully.
“Oh, there he is again.” She leaned forward and put her hands on his face. “Your inner Puritan is back!”
Steve took her hands in his and gently kissed them. “I so don’t have an inner Puritan.”
“Yes you do,” she said, kissing him. “It’s one of the things that I like about you. I get to corrupt that god fearin’ little shit right out of you!”
“Corrupt this!” Steve suddenly tickled her in the ribcage.
“Stop!” she said through peals of laughter. “Don’t…Stop it!”
“Don’t stop it? Whatever you say.”
“Can’t…breathe…” said Autumn, tears rolling down her smiling face.
Steve stopped, and she gasped on the couch for a moment, trying to compose herself.
“That was dirty, getting me in my weak spot.”
“I can think of more delicate areas.” Steve pretended to be thoughtful with a finger pressed up to his lips.
“That’s not a weak spot; it can grab hold of you and give you a decent hump, can’t it?”
“I’d say more than decent,” said Steve, running his hand over her black sweat pants.
“At some point we have to start getting ready for this party.”
“Sun’s not even all the way down yet.” Steve began kissing her on the neck. He left a tender trail down to her shoulder, exposed due to the wide neck T-shirt of his she was wearing. Hooking his hands on the collar of the shirt, he jerked his arms back and ripped the garment in half. Autumn gasped, her toes curling in her Hello Kitty socks.
Chapter 13
“I GUESS WE’RE SETTING UP over there.” Rex pointed across the already crowded garage. His tone seemed to indicate he was less than pleased.
“Only place there’s room,” said Phil, ducking around a greasy engine clock suspended from a thick chain.
Crawley maneuvered Molly’s case around the same obstacle, wide eyes taking in the crowd. She licked her lips as she scanned to and fro.
“There’s a lot of people here.” She was growing a bit pale.
While the male band members were dressed casually, Crawley had dressed in style. She wore a short skirt with a leopard pattern, held up by a wide leather belt with a profusion of dull metal spikes. A dark pair of fishnets covered her legs below the skirt, until they reached the tops of her patent leather, calf-high boots. The heels were delicate and tapered, and Crawley was nearly Phil’s height in them. Her hair was done with a side part swept into a high ponytail, held in place by a pin designed to resemble a black widow spider. Dark red lipstick stained her mouth, and her eye shadow was far more dramatic and heavy than normal. Underneath it all, though, she still seemed like a scared girl. Phil took her free hand in his own and squeezed.
“It’s just a little stage fright, Ellie. I thought I was gonna pee my pants the first time we played live.”
“Ja,” said Sven, “except that the difference is Phil is peeing his pants all the time.”
“Fuck you, you overgrown strudel muncher!” said Phil, face flushing red as Crawley giggled behind her hand.
“Set up first, bicker and argue second,” said Rex in mock seriousness.
They threaded their way through the mingling mob of humanity, trying not to knock over any of the myriad drinks being held or sitting on the concrete floor of the garage. The ceiling was surprisingly high, nearly twenty feet at its apex. Fluorescent light fixtures buzzed above their heads, providing ample illumination.
“Hey!” said Crawley, turning around sharply. “Someone just grabbed my ass!”
“Sorry,” said a seated man, bulging with muscle that was quite visible under his thin T-shirt. He grinned at her with glassy eyes that said he had been celebrating the New Year a little early. A dark mohawk decorated his scalp, and numerous tattoos could be seen on his arms and neck. “It was an accident!” His peal of raucous laughter indicated that it was probably not an accident.
Phil stepped up to the man, put a hand on his shoulder and tightened his grip. “That wasn’t a very heartfelt apology,” he said harshly.
The man slowly stood up, a smile on his face saying that he had gotten exactly what he wanted. He rose to tower over Phil, the smaller man disappearing from Crawley’s sight behind his massive frame.
“Too fucking bad,” said the mohawked man, jabbing his finger in Phil’s chest.
“Just let it go, honey,” said Crawley, seizing Phil’s bicep and dragging him away. “He’s just jealous ’cause you’re in the band.”
“Yeah, Train,” said a man nearly as inebriated as his robust friend, “don’t start a fight with the band.”
“You’re lucky,” said Train, turning around and returning to his conversation at high volume. “Did you see that guy? What a little pussy, won’t even stand up for his woman.”
Crawley hooked her arm in Phil’s and dragged him toward the staging area. “Ignore him, honey,” said Crawley, using her calloused fingers to pull his face back around when he seethed at the comment. “I’m going home with you tonight, because you’re more of a man than that alpha male creep will ever be.”
Her words helped, but still Phil felt as if the only balm for his soul was the sweet crack of knuckles on the jaw of
someone who desperately deserved it.
They finally got over to where Rex and Sven were talking and laughing with their apparent employer. He was about the same age as Rex, maybe a bit older, with a handlebar mustache peppered with gray. He wore a sleeveless T-shirt, a Confederate flag tattooed on his right arm, while an American flag graced his left. He was spotted with freckles and possessed a tan complexion that spoke of many hours in the sun. His thickly calloused palms, almost painful on Phil’s hand when he shook it, seemed to confirm that he was a laborer of some sort.
“Howdy! I think we might have met once or twice at Rex’s place, but I’m Chet.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Phil.”
“And who is this vision of loveliness?” Chet asked, playfully taking Crawley’s hand and kissing it, causing her to giggle.
“Our new guitarist, and my girlfriend, Eleanor Crawley.”
Chet raised an eyebrow at the declaration but smiled easily enough. “Hope you’re as good as Rex here says you are. I happen to love the Scorpions, and if you don’t nail the solo there might be a riot.”
“Then I’d better get it right!” said Crawley, beginning the arduous task of setting up and tuning Molly.
Phil busied himself with carrying in the components for his keyboard. He was careful not to pass too close to Train and his entourage, and was able to avoid another incident. He was puzzled by the addition of a saxophone in the trailer bearing their gear.
“Hey, Rex,” he said, coming up to the older man with the instrument still in its black plastic case. “How come you brought a sax? I thought we dropped ‘Who Can it Be Now?’”
“We did,” said Rex with a grin, “because you couldn’t handle the bass so Sven could play the sax. But Steve is gonna be here, so…”
“Dude,” said Phil, shaking his head, “don’t put him on the spot.”
“Oh, he’ll love it.”
Phil sighed, feeling outranked by Rex as always.
“The ball drops at midnight, hon,” said Steve, sitting on the sofa and seeming quite bored. “You going to be ready sometime before then?”
Forever Autumn Page 14