Rock Star

by Roslyn Hardy Holcomb

  Callie smiled as she recalled Granny’s strong support. The women had slunk away; nobody dared talk back to Granny.

  Much to her surprise, many of the comments were positive and the town was absolutely abuzz with interest in her love life. Of course, it didn’t take long to realize that a great deal of that support came from people who had an eye towards capitalizing on the situation for their own benefit. Thus far, she had fielded dozens of requests for an entrée into the music industry. That had provided a great deal of comic relief, as people had taken to coming into the store to demonstrate their various talents. At any moment a seemingly normal customer would break into song or dance and sometimes most impressively, both. Their repertoire included everything from spirituals to operatic arias to hip-hop.

  The butcher had entertained them all with a soliloquy from Hamlet. Callie wasn’t sure exactly what his intentions were because she doubted that Bryan could get him into television or film, and the fact that he was pushing fifty made him an unlikely Hamlet, anyway. She was careful not to mention that to him, though. After all, the man had unlimited access to some very large knives. Not to mention his pride and joy, a brand-spanking-new meat grinder with which to dispose of any grisly remains.

  Through all the insanity, though, Bryan still had not called. It was almost surreal. He’d been calling continually for days but now that she actually wanted to talk to him, nothing. She could only conclude that it was just as Tonya had said. He’d put the ball in her court, and the next move was hers. Of course, she didn’t even begin to know what she wanted. Actually, that wasn’t completely true. She knew without a doubt that she wanted Bryan, but was she willing to risk having something like this happen again? There was no way she was going to become like those sad creatures she’d seen in California, mere appendages of whatever celebrity they managed to pull cover with. Callie had every intention of continuing her own life, and to the degree that it was possible, putting every aspect of her five-year plan into place. Could she do that while married to a superstar rocker? And who had mentioned marriage anyway? Bryan had said that he wanted to be with her, but there had been no proposal in the offing. After all, what did ‘it’s going to be all about us’ really mean? At the time she’d thought it meant marriage and long-term commitment. Now she wasn’t so sure. For all she knew, he didn’t even believe in marriage. They’d never really discussed it, and given his background, it wouldn’t be surprising if he didn’t.

  Callie was saved from her confused musings when Granny came bustling into the store. She stood and glowered down at Callie from her impressive height for a long spell, then asked the question that seemed to be in the forefront of everybody’s mind.

  “Granny, I don’t know what I’m going to do,” Callie responded resignedly.

  “You do know that boy isn’t going to wait for you forever? Many a woman’s missed out on a good man on account of listening to other folks,” Granny lectured her insistently.

  “I know that, Granny.”

  Granny pursed her lips, shaking her head decisively. “No, I don’t think you do. I think you’re letting all this foolishness folks are talking keep you from doing what’s right for you. I’ve always thought you were a right smart young’un, Callie, but in this you’re acting like a dumb missy.”

  Having Granny’s respect was very important to Callie, and she tried to explain. “But Granny…”

  Granny held up her massive hand to cut off any comment from Callie. “You listen to me. I don’t want to hear nothing you’ve got to say because frankly right now you’re not operating in your right mind, and it’s bound to be stupid.”

  Callie’s eyes widened in disbelief, but she didn’t dare open her mouth.

  “You young folks think you know everything, and you haven’t lived long enough to know nothing. But I tell you what I’m going to do. I’m not opening the restaurant until you do the right thing. I’m not feeding people who don’t deserve feeding.” With that, she turned with all the grace and dignity of the Queen Mary under a full head of steam and stalked out the store.

  Callie choked back the urge to scream. Oh hell, this was all she needed. If Granny went on strike, people would probably picket her store. She’d just gotten rid of the reporters and now she’d have a whole new gang of crazy folks at her door. The whole damned town would be at her throat if they were cut off from their soup! Not for the first time Callie wondered if she wouldn’t be better off just seeking another zip code. She’d heard that Fiji was wondrous this time of year.

  After Granny departed, Callie moved slowly over to the bench in front of the magazine rack and gingerly lowered her body to the seat, both hands tenderly holding her head as if afraid that it might fall off otherwise. Her mind whirled as she came to what had previously been an untenable conclusion. The butcher, the baker, and now the official soup maker. How had she lived in this town her entire life and never noticed that it was inhabited by full-fledged lunatics?

  Chapter 21

  The knock on the door was loud and insistent. Callie bolted straight up in bed, startled from a restless slumber. Her abrupt movement almost knocked Bartholomew to the floor, and she righted him from his precarious perch on the edge of the bed. Disoriented for a moment, she looked around trying identify the source of the disturbance. “What in the world…” But all she heard was the insistent rain, unusual for late spring, that had lingered all day. Just as she glanced over at her bedside clock, the knock sounded again. “Who on earth is knocking at one o’clock in the morning?” She jumped out of bed, hastily donning her bathrobe to cover her short cotton nightgown.

  She met Tonya on the landing. After contemplating for a moment who the caller could be, they moved cautiously down the stairs, Tonya at Callie’s back, carrying her upraised baseball bat. Callie hoped it wasn’t Sheriff Scooter. At this point she’d have no qualms about introducing him to the business end of that bat. The knocking continued as they very hesitantly approached the door. It was unlikely that anything good was showing up at this hour. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Callie called out from the safe distance. The reply gave her a start and she turned to give Tonya a disbelieving glance, then rushed to unlock the dead bolts.

  “Bryan, what are you doing here…” Bryan cut off that question by immediately pulling Callie to him in an all-encompassing hug. She relaxed against him for a moment, just absorbing the wonder of his presence, but abruptly backed away when she realized he was soaking wet.

  Bryan pulled her back up against him, closing his eyes as an intense wave of pleasure washed over him. “God, baby,” he murmured against her neck. “God, just give me a minute.”

  Tonya put her bat down, then leaned casually against the stair rail. Crossing her arms over her emerald green velvet robe, she drolly commented, “Damn boy, what took you so long? I was seriously starting to wonder about you.”

  Callie and Bryan were too absorbed in each other to respond. Finally giving a sardonic snort, Tonya turned and made her way back up the stairs.

  Callie finally broke their embrace. “Bryan, you’re soaking wet. Did you bring a change of clothes? I know you’ve had a bad cold; you’re going to catch pneumonia.” She took his chilled hand, leading him up the stairs to her apartment. Bryan nodded his affirmation to her question, and hoisted a disreputable-looking duffel bag onto his shoulder. Once they reached her apartment, Callie directed him into her bedroom to change clothes while she went into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. Apparently Tonya had already beat her to the task and stood leaning against the counter looking at Callie expectantly. Callie shrugged. She didn’t have any idea what she was going to say or do.

  Tonya gave her another significant look. “Callie, I haven’t said anything all this time while I watched both of you wallow in your own misery.” She paused, then gave Callie a sheepish grin. “Besides, I have to admit I felt a little bit guilty because I pushed you to hook up with him, and all this stuff happened. But he’s come to you now. Don’t mess this up.”<
br />
  “Tonya, nothing’s changed. He’s still famous. I can’t live with that. I just can’t,” she whispered disconsolately.

  Tonya threw up her arms in disgust and then left the kitchen to return to her bed. Callie moved to pour coffee for herself and Bryan, then took the mugs into the living room. As she sat down, Bryan came out of bedroom, toweling his hair dry. His black jeans and dark gray vintage Led Zeppelin T-shirt hung on his spare frame, telling the story of his recent weight loss. Bryan, like many other rock stars, had a fondness for vintage rock-and-roll T-shirts. Naysa had told Callie that she found them at Lo-Fi, a vintage clothing store in L.A., and for all its casual appearance, that T-shirt had probably cost a fortune. According to Naysa, the shirts were one of the few sources of sartorial excitement within the band, and the only truly fashionable thing she had little difficulty getting them to wear. Little wonder then that she had standing orders for them as they came in, even though the prices sometimes topped out at better than five hundred dollars as competing stylists drove the prices up.

  Of course, none of this was on Bryan’s mind at the present. Feet bare except for a pair of athletic socks, he padded over to Callie and took the mug she offered before sitting down on the sofa next to her.

  Bryan took a few appreciative sips. The rain had left him more chilled than he’d realized. Then he said, “I know you know why I’m here. Since you won’t talk to me on the phone, could you please be so kind as to tell me what the hell’s been going on?”

  Callie shifted restlessly under the intensity of his dark-blue gaze and moved over into the corner of the sofa, resting her head against the sofa’s high back. She had never thought that Bryan would just show up like this, and was totally unprepared to deal with him. She had gone to great pains to avoid just this confrontation and his tone made it clear that this was going to be as tough as she’d expected.

  “I don’t know, Bryan. All of this has been so confusing. I just didn’t know what to say to you.”

  “Did you have to just cut me off like that? I had no idea what the hell was going on with you!”

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you, but I just don’t think I can be with you…”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Bryan shouted. “I knew this would be tough on you, Callie, but I thought you had more backbone than this.” He ran his fingers through his damp hair in frustration, his efforts adding to its disheveled look. “Yeah, the reporters suck, but it’s not the end of the freaking world. They will eventually go away and suck some other poor bastard’s blood.”

  Callie couldn’t believe he had the audacity to say such a thing. “Backbone? How dare you? Do you have any idea what I’ve been through these last few weeks? Do you?” she shrieked.

  “Yes, Callie, I know exactly how bad it’s been. Remember, while you were giving me the brush off, I was talking to your roommate. At least she had the decency to talk to me,” he snapped back irritably, his entire body practically crackling with his anger.

  “No, I don’t think you do. You couldn’t possibly know what it’s like to have hundreds of people in your store all day long…”

  Bryan interrupted, “Callie, I live with it every freaking day! I’ve been dealing with it for at least ten years, ever since the band hit big, and pretty much even before then.”

  Callie continued as if he hadn’t said anything. “Reporters beating on the windows, hiding in my closet…and a redneck sheriff going through my garbage. I’m not a rock star, and I shouldn’t have to put up with this!” she shouted.

  Bryan was caught off guard. “Reporter in your closet? Sheriff in your garbage? Nobody told me about that. Are you okay?”

  “Do you care, Bryan? Do you really give a damn?”

  “Callie, I don’t even believe you could ask a question like that. What the hell else do I have to do, woman, to convince you how I feel? Frankly, I’m getting tired of the whole damned routine,” he retorted wearily.

  Callie closed her eyes. He had every right to be angry. She was being incredibly unfair to him. “You’re right, Bryan, I don’t have any doubts about how you feel.”

  Bryan threw his hands into the air in mock wonder. “Well damn! Stop the presses. Callie finally admits that she knows I love her. I guess I should be grateful for that anyway,” he returned snidely. “So what is it, what’s the problem, Callie? Why are you doing this to us? Don’t you think I deserve some type of explanation?”

  “Bryan,” Callie sighed, moving closer to him, “it’s a lot of things. You know I had doubts from the very beginning…”

  Bryan gritted his teeth. “Doubts I thought we overcame a long time ago.” He didn’t know how much more of this he could take.

  Callie, sensing that he was at the end of his patience, decided to compromise. “Bryan, I really don’t know what I want, okay? Maybe to you this is all normal, but for me, it’s been really freaky. Can I please have some time to work it all out?”

  Bryan was in no mood for anything short of unconditional surrender. “Jesus, Callie! You’ve had weeks, while I’ve just been hanging on wondering what the hell was going on. What more do you need to work out? Look, Callie, do you have any idea what I’ve gone through to get here? I landed in Atlanta barely an hour ago, caught absolutely the last flight after our show! Thank God for the time difference or I never would’ve gotten out. At the airport, I hired a taxi to get me here. I’ve got to be back in New York by this time tomorrow night. I’m tired as all get out, but I had to talk to you.” Bryan paused and took a deep breath as he realized he wasn’t being totally fair to Callie either. After all, she didn’t even know the whole story. He flopped back on the sofa. “The worst thing is, I haven’t even told you what all is going on. You’ve got to hear everything before you make any decisions.”

  Callie looked at him apprehensively. What more could there possibly be? She didn’t know if she could stand it if this situation got any worse.

  Bryan didn’t really want to tell Callie about B.T.’s involvement in this whole fiasco; she was already skittish enough and ready to bail on him. But if he kept this from her, it was bound to flare up someday and then she’d accuse him of lying to her. As he tried to collect his thoughts, his eyes drifted over her legs left bare by the short terrycloth robe she was wearing. She was sitting lotus-fashion with her legs up on the sofa facing him. He ran one finger up and down her firm calf. The feel of her skin beneath his hands was still a powerful lure, and he was momentarily sidetracked as he began to recall how that warm golden brown skin felt under his lips. He’d always thought Callie’s skin looked like cinnamon dipped in honey, and after the long drought he could think of nothing that would taste better.

  “Baby, do you have any idea how much I want to make love with you?” he whispered, his voice raspy with desire.

  Callie gave him a longing look. She was more than willing. Being with Bryan had awakened all her carnal desires, and her body craved the physical satiation he offered.

  “No.” He shook his head firmly, needing to convince himself more than anything. “Much as I wish it was otherwise, there’s no way we can get through this without talking first. I just hope you don’t get pissed off and stop speaking to me again when I tell you what happened.”

  “Bryan, I wasn’t angry with you, I just…”

  Bryan placed a gentle finger against her lips to silence her. “I know. Well, actually, I don’t know, but you haven’t heard the whole sorry mess yet, either.” He sighed heavily. “Just relax and let me tell you a story.” She might not have been angry before, but Bryan had no doubt that by the time he related B.T.’s perfidy, he’d be lucky if the fireworks didn’t set the building ablaze. He then relayed the tale of B.T.’s complicity in their story being published in the tabloids.

  “Why that…” For the first time that she could recall, Callie was at a total loss for words. She hadn’t felt this confused since that day in first grade when her father accidentally dropped her off at the wrong school. “I can’t believe this. Yo
u mean he put us through all this just to break us up?”

  Bryan felt compelled to defend his former manager. After all, fair play was fair play. “Actually, he didn’t start it, he just didn’t try to stop it.”

  Callie’s eyes widened in amazement. “Don’t you think you’re splitting hairs here? What possible reason could that man have for trying to break us up?” Her teeth snapped together as the obvious motive occurred to her. “It’s because I’m black, isn’t it?”

  Bryan really didn’t want to get into this area, recognizing its relationship-wrecking potential. He thought back to the conversation they’d had that day they’d gone to get Callie’s hair done. God, he’d been so naïve! “Callie, I know you tried to tell me all this…but I didn’t listen. It never occurred to me that anybody would give a damn who I fell in love with. I really did think all that was ancient history and didn’t have anything to do with us. I was such a frigging idiot. Baby, I’m sorry…”

  Callie shook her head as she interrupted him. “You don’t have anything to be sorry about. How would you know? You didn’t have any experience with it. I, on the other hand, knew better.” She continued regretfully, “I don’t know why this caught me by surprise. I should’ve been expecting it all along.”

  Bryan shook his head mournfully, his self-disgust evident. “Well, you did tell me, but I was just…I don’t know, I was just so happy that I couldn’t believe that anything like this would happen. And I never thought they’d go after you. Baby, I’m so sorry I didn’t take better care of you. My only excuse is, I thought B.T. had my back. I won’t make that mistake again.”

  “Hmmmph, I just can’t believe this guy. If he had problems with our being together, why didn’t he say something earlier?” She sat up as a thought occurred to her. “Did he say anything to you about us?” Surely Bryan wouldn’t have kept something like that from her.