“I think that you should put family first. There should be no other priorities. That’s why I don’t plan to really settle down until I can give a wife and kids the attention they deserve. Right now my life is too busy and chaotic to even think about serious relationships.”
She leaned back. It wasn’t necessarily the answer she wanted but she couldn’t fault it either. “And what does that mean for my granddaughter?”
He glanced at me and took my hand in his. “Your granddaughter brings something to my life I need. I hope I can do that for her too in some way, even if it’s not traditional.”
This was not news to me, of course. It reinforced the original ground rules when I got into this relationship. All I could do was enjoy it for the moment and let the future take care of itself, but I wasn’t sure my grandmother would see things the same way.
“I still don’t understand why you can’t date in public. I’d really like both of you to come to church on Christmas Eve.”
“That’s for her benefit, Lydia,” he said, using the name she had insisted he use. “Andy is the only real thing in my life; I don’t want to see it get that complicated for her just because I decided to get into show business. My life is crazy. As my girlfriend she’d never have her own private life again. There would be no going to church with you or anyone without being tailed by the paparazzi. She wouldn’t even be able to go to the grocery store without some gossip columnist trying to figure out what she was doing and how our relationship was going. It’s not fair, but that’s just the way it is. Relationships are hard enough without adding all that to it.”
She nodded as she thoughtfully ingested what he said. “I can’t say I understand it,” she said, “but I guess if that’s good enough for Andy, it’s going to have to be good enough for me. Now let’s go eat.”
Grandma kept Vanni in stitches, and vice versa, throughout dinner where she stuffed him so full he could barely shovel down a forkful or two of his cake. “It’s delicious,” he told her graciously. “But what I really appreciate is your taking the time to do this for me. I haven’t had a meal prepared for my birthday in years. I had forgotten how much I missed it.”
She was warmed by his praise, as evidenced by the slight flush on her cheeks. My Vanni could charm anyone, young or old.
She spent the remainder of the evening showing him photo albums. There must be fine print somewhere that parents and grandparents get to drag out these embarrassing volumes whenever it would most humiliate the child in question.
But he seemed to enjoy every minute of our time at Grandma’s right up to where she began hiding her yawns behind the back of her hand somewhere around 9:15 p.m.
He gave her a big hug that lifted her off the ground before he left and she made sure she had his address so she could send him special treats to “fatten him up” by the next time she saw him. He kissed her cheek like they were family, and my Grandma winked her approval my direction.
He was quiet and thoughtful on the way back to my house. I wanted to ask what he was thinking but he looked so serene I didn’t want to disturb his thoughts at all.
Instead I drove us straight home, where we shrugged out of our coats to start work on our tree.
I had a small fireplace that he lit for us, and I played a radio station featuring Christmas carols. We sang as we strung the lights and then traded places hanging the ornaments. When it was done he dimmed my overhead lights and plugged in the tree, which twinkled with tiny white lights in the corner of my living room.
He took my hand in his and pulled me close so we could dance together to the music. He stroked my back with his fingers, and had the other arm around my waist. He glanced down at me for a moment and then bent for a tentative, slow, open-mouthed kiss.
I melted against him and wound my arms around his neck to press even closer. We swayed back and forth as we kissed tenderly, lovingly. Then, with his arm around my waist, he gradually pulled us both to the floor. I had a blanket folded on a chair by the tree, which he grabbed and laid under us.
He leaned me back against the blanket, his hands in my hair, his whispers dancing on my skin. Every time he called my name my flesh quivered as if it knew to whom it belonged.
With each kiss, each caress, another article of clothing was carefully discarded. Once we were both naked he poised himself over me.
“Let me go grab a condom,” I whispered as I tried to scoot away but his weight pinned me down.
“Not tonight,” he replied as he pressed up against me, his flesh strong and demanding. “Let me feel all of you,” he said softly. “No more barriers.”
“But…” I started but he silenced me with a kiss, or two… or three… while he stimulated me with his body.
“You’re on the pill, right?” he persisted as he stroked against me, driving me wild.
“Yes,” I answered in a gasp.
“Then let me feel you,” he said again, with movements to match the rhythm of his words. “Wet… warm… tight… mine…”
Suddenly I was climaxing and all I could do was cry out for him as he entered me bare for the first time. He rode each wave with gasps and cries all his own. His movements grew more urgent, and he kept whispering against my mouth words like, “I need you,” and “I want you.”
It was what he said when he finally came inside me that stopped my heart. I was barely able to whisper back, “I love you too.”
We woke up the next morning entangled on the floor. Memories of the night before washed over me in a warm flood of emotion as I watched him dream peacefully.
I was overcome by the love I felt for him. It felt like it filled my heart and overflowed into my soul. How had this happened? I wondered happily as I softly stroked my hand through his hair. A year ago almost to the day I was licking my wounds from what I thought had been his deceit. And now here he was, sprawled on my floor, wrapped in my arms, my body wearing the evidence of the love he had finally declared, though I’d never asked him to.
My fingers trailed possessively over his body, and even in his sleep his flesh responded to me. I kissed his chest, which tasted salty against my tongue. I explored his body slowly and liberally, until I wanted him so badly I ached.
I straddled his hips and rubbed against him with a gentle rocking motion, and then gently slipped him inside.
He awoke to our lovemaking, which was all it took for him to grab my hips and urge me on for long, leisurely strokes that relished a slow building passion we took our time to sate.
When it was over and I collapsed next to him in his arms, he kissed me and told me that I was his new favorite alarm clock. I giggled as I snuggled into the crook of his arm. We had nowhere to go, nowhere to be, nothing to do but just be together and love each other.
Like he said, all barriers were gone.
That afternoon he told me he wanted to go buy my grandmother a Christmas gift, to thank her for her kind generosity and accepting him into their family no questions asked. “I want to go to church with you tomorrow night,” he said, and the earnest expression on his face just made me love him more.
He selected a scarf and a hat for her to wear while she ran her errands on foot. I completed the ensemble with a locket which held a picture of my parents inside.
We wrapped our gifts together, and then spent the night at home watching TV, cuddling with the cat and kissing in front of the fire.
The next night we went to church and surprised Grandma, his idea, and he even offered to sing for the congregation, which meant he wasn’t there incognito. He stood at the altar with his hair tied back, an ivory turtleneck sweater (another gift from me) with a scarf casually slung around his shoulder. He was the most handsome man I had ever seen, and my heart filled to bursting with the love I felt inside. When he sang “O Holy Night” a cappella by candlelight, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house – including my grandmother.
The next morning I woke up to find the bed empty. I slipped out from under the covers. There on the foot of the bed was
a beautiful blue satin robe. With a smile I put it on and padded softly into the living room.
There were boxes of gifts underneath the tree, and a breakfast set up on the coffee table in front. The best gift was Vanni, in his pajama bottoms, sitting cross-legged on the floor with his hair spilling all over his shoulders, as he cuddled Simon in his lap.
“Merry Christmas, Andy,” he said as I approached, and he pulled me down to get a Christmas kiss.
I knelt next to him on the floor. “What did you do?” I said as I referred to the gifts.
“What can I say? Santa thought you were a good girl this year.”
I laughed as I reached for one. I felt like a little kid as I tore into the paper. It was a locket, similar to the one I bought for my grandmother. My eyes shot to his. “When did you do this?”
“I’m a Ninja shopper,” he confessed. “Open another one.”
A scarf, a cat toy for Simon, some opal earrings – my birthstone – and finally a music box.
“Open it,” he said with a smile.
As I did I expected to hear “Wanting Her,” but the tune was new and unfamiliar. Inside the box was a folded piece of paper, written in his handwriting. As the music box played he began to sing:
“I never thought I’d find someone whose heart was my ideal, whose eyes could see into my soul, and teach me what was real. She touched my hand, and kissed my lips and now I know it’s true. No one before quite holds my heart the way that you now do. I can’t promise more than this moment, girl, but please don’t give up on me. You touched my hand and kissed my lips and set my spirit free. No one can promise forever, it’s never ours to give. If only for this moment, I know this much is true. If only for this moment girl, I’m so in love with you.”
I was in tears as he finished, so touched by his song, his voice, his words… his love.
Vanni was right. We couldn’t promise more than the moment. But in that moment, all that I had, and all that I felt, and all that I was belonged only to him.
Seattle, January 2009
Talia
I was relieved to get off of the plane when we landed in Seattle, mostly to get away from all the people on board. I never did really like crowds, and planes especially are claustrophobic. I didn’t like the idea of breathing in all that contained air, squished up next to strangers with their fat, smelly bodies hanging over the armrests.
I collected my limited bags and used my new cell phone to call my new Internet friend, Tawnie Eaton. I met her on the DIB message board, and when I found out she was going to the concert it seemed like a great idea to meet up with her and stay at her place for the weekend while the band was in town.
Like me, she was introduced to the band by winning tickets to see him in New York when they premiered his video. Like me, she had the pleasure of being in the front row while he serenaded his fans face to face. Like me, she felt that instant connection that she could only share with someone who understood. And so we had bonded quite a bit in phone calls and emails that expressed our desire to get closer to this man who had so powerfully touched our souls.
Unlike me she wasn’t married, so she felt she was freer to explore something romantic with him than I was. I didn’t say much when she pointed this out, figuring that even though we were new best friends I didn’t need to share everything about my plans for Giovanni. But if I felt the same bond, and I knew in Vegas it was something he couldn’t possibly share with anyone else but me, then our friendship would just have to withstand his choosing me over her.
She was a pretty girl. She’d no doubt rebound quickly.
In fact, that was another way we were quite alike. We both had golden blond hair, although she kept hers cut short whereas mine was full of wild curls. We both had blue eyes and luckily shared the same size clothing.
This would help me because I wasn’t allowed to shop for concert wear before the trip. Ben thought I had gone to meet a friend only, not that I was going to spend money not only to see the band but to go to another meet and greet after the show.
It cost us a pretty penny, but Tawnie and I figured that it would be worth it just to feel his arms around us again, or get a close up look in those velvety brown eyes.
So I covered the tickets with the cunning use of money orders, telling Ben that we were paying for extra tests to find out why we hadn’t yet been able to conceive. For her part she bought the clothing, which included tight jeans and even tighter concert tees. Our standard size 8 figures with the optimal 36-C cup chests would no doubt get his attention.
Tawnie teased that we would probably look like twins, but I was sure he’d be able to tell the difference.
If we look that much alike maybe that was why she felt the connection with him initially. He was waiting for me all along.
Tawnie squealed when she saw me and ran over to give me a big hug. It was like having a sister, and I can’t say I minded. We had only been communicating about six weeks but already we were as thick as thieves. We called each other Sis on the website forum almost from the moment we met, adopting each other out of our mutual interest. It was surprisingly easy to go from being strangers to sharing our intimate life details over the safety of the Internet. I almost worried how we would communicate face to face.
But I didn’t have to worry. We both had to fight to get a word in edgewise we were so excited about our weekend together.
I could hardly contain my excitement as we drove back to her apartment, and we giggled and squealed like schoolgirls as we listened to the CD in the car, singing loud with the windows down as we sailed down the freeway.
In just four hours, we’d be in the front row, standing directly in front of Giovanni.
I could hardly wait.
We spent the next few hours doing each other’s hair and makeup, and by 5:00 p.m. we were ready to hit the bar around the corner from where she lived for a jumpstart on our evening with happy hour drinks.
Two margaritas later and we were back on the freeway, flying down the road toward the arts center where the concert was being held.
The line was long when we got there, but no one seemed to care. We sang songs and all the groupies, predominately female, were talking loud and high on the idea of seeing Giovanni perform live.
Without a shirt.
In leather pants.
The thought made me weak at the knees, so I held onto Tawnie as tightly as she held onto me.
They began loading us in at 7:15 p.m., which gave us about an hour until show time. It was the slowest hour of our lives. Every time someone came out on stage the entire crowd erupted, only to find out it was a roadie or stage hand.
Finally, at about 7:55 p.m., all the lights dimmed and the spotlights that had been trained on the stage were extinguished. I was so nervous I shook in my shoes, and held onto Tawnie’s hand tightly.
At 8:00 p.m. a big screen scrolled down and the musical instruments came alive with the first notes of “Make It Happen.”
“You got something that you want?” Giovanni screamed off stage. I screamed as loud as I could but my voice was lost in the roar of the crowd. “I said – you got something that you want?” Amazingly the roar got louder.
“HEY SEATTLE!” he sang/screamed into the mic from somewhere on stage we couldn’t see. “You got something that you want?”
“You know what you gotta do, don’t you?”
The crowd was in a frenzy chanting, “Make it happen! Make it happen!”
“You gotta MAKE IT HAPPEN!!”
With that the spotlight exploded on stage as he jumped out of the shadows in his tight leather pants, glistening bare torso and black leather cuffs on either wrist. He launched into the song, racing around the stage like a Wildman, singing to everyone in the front row and making us respond right back.
When his eyes met mine during the chorus and he made me sing it right back, I instantly knew that he remembered me from Vegas. He remembered what he wrote on my CD. Our connection was as strong as ever.
And
it didn’t take a genius to know what it meant when the next song was, “Baby, Say My Name.” He may have sung some of that song to Tawnie, but I think he might have confused her for me.
Several dancing girls in skimpy clothing joined the guys on stage, climbing tall poles on either side of the band. He interacted with them, allowing them to grind against him and wind around his body like a snake, but I understood that was just part of the act. There’s no way he could be attracted to those girls. They were so skinny they looked like boys, and had tattoos and piercings to boot.
I wasn’t especially threatened no matter how sexually they danced.
A couple of songs later he slowed it down and sat on the edge of the center stage, near us. “I gotta take a moment and tell you about a special girl,” he said to someone in the front row. “I wrote her a song,” he continued as he glanced over at me. “I think about her when things get crazy.” He glanced down at one of the rare men in the first row. “You know what I mean, man? She brings peace to my soul.” He scanned the crowd. “I don’t know where she is tonight. Is she out there, Seattle? Is she thinking about me the way I’m thinking about her? Is she out there standing lost in the crowd, thinking that no one will ever know how beautiful she is?”
The girls all went crazy, hoping he meant them. They were so silly.
“I just gotta take this moment… and tell you about the girl I love.”
Yael played the piano that was standing off to the side, something new brought to the band probably for this important song. Giovanni hopped down in front of the stage, and glided down the front row, touching every hand, and singing to every person. “I never thought I’d find someone whose heart was my ideal, whose eyes could see into my soul, and teach me what was real. She touched my hand, and kissed my lips and now I know it’s true. No one before quite holds my heart the way that you now do. I can’t promise more than this moment, girl, but please don’t give up on me. You touched my hand and kissed my lips and set my spirit free. No one can promise forever, it’s not our give to give. If only for this moment, I know this much is true. If only for this moment girl, I’m so in love with you.”
The Complete Groupie Trilogy Page 14