Weathering Jack Storm

by Lisa Gillis

  “I’m going to go tell Tristan bye. I will be right back...”

  Propping her elbows on her knees, she dropped her head summoning all her self-control not to cry. Jack was back in five minutes, and this time he hauled her into his lap as he sat down.

  The kiss was gentle, desperate, wild, and sweet. On and on, until his phone beeped. Stiffening, he brushed his lips against hers and then crushed them to her one last time.

  Her body immediately chilled without his warmth, and her ears cringed against the click of the door latch.

  The house felt suddenly and sickeningly empty. For five minutes, she glumly stared at the door before weakly pulling herself up from the stairs. In a drunken like stagger, she trudged the hall, pausing to check on Tristan, where he was napping on the couch with Rusty, before continuing to the end.

  The music room. Twisting the knob, she leaned against the door before pushing it open. With a flip of the light, she ignored the directors’ chairs, sliding instead to the floor with her back against the wall.

  The wall opposite where she sat was her focus. The blank spots, where guitars always hung, stood out now that they were empty. Nine. He had taken nine total, and she occupied her brain by recalling practices and creating a game of placing which guitar was missing with which song it went with.

  From the other room, she heard the lone beep of her phone and surged to her feet. Tristan looked up as she sprinted into the den, but sleepily went back to his show.

  JACK

  Missing you something awful

  11:45 PM

  ♪♫¨♫♪

  “He sent a text less than fifteen minutes after leaving,” Marissa made the confession to Olivia. The phone was on speaker and propped on the counter top, as she moved around the kitchen cooking cheese Quesadillas. “And he calls as soon as he wakes up, and we text all day. In fact, a couple of times, we talked all day since this part of the tour they are in the bus.”

  Marissa turned to the stove hiding her smile of recollection. They had done way more than talk. They had Skyped through one dirty phone session as, on his end his bandmates slept, and on her end Tristan slept. Then, there were the innocent Skypes where the iPad sat on the counter top while they all ate breakfast or lunch together.

  “And the guy Dax is there with you and Tristan?” Olivia brought Marissa out of her pleasant reverie.

  “Sort of. He’s not around much.” As she replied, she tossed Dax’s Quesadillas on a plate and set them aside for when he raided the kitchen later. At first, Dax seemed surprised any time she cooked extra servings for him, but quickly accustomed to it, he began hopefully searching the fridge when he came in.

  “Tell me about the lingerie shoot,” Olivia prompted.

  Marissa grabbed the phone clicking the speaker off even though Tristan, who was in the den slamming out chords on his guitar, could not hear the conversation. “I went out to lunch with Randi and–”

  “I still think that is weird,” Olivia interrupted.

  Again, Marissa contemplated telling her best friend the truth of Jack and Randi’s relationship, but it felt like betraying Jack in some way, since he himself did not even know the truth. “Well I’m good with it. So anyway, over lunch, and you would not believe the salads at this place, I never thought I would eat sushi, but sushi salad is amazing–”

  “O-M-G!” Olivia, who had not spoken in acronyms in years, busted out with one of her old favorites. “It’s not bad enough you are a California girl on the verge of modeling lingerie...you are becoming a sushi girl?”

  In that moment, Marissa wished her friend was on Skype. How she had missed those blue eyes dancing in amusement as she hurled some insult. Falling right back into their pattern, Marissa dished it back to her.

  “Shut up Liv! And I’m not modeling lingerie –”

  “But you said–”

  “Randi talked me into a shoot. But the pictures are for Jack’s eyes only.” Marissa went on to reiterate that the photos were strictly as a surprise for Jack’s upcoming birthday.

  “Except Jack will probably go ballistic knowing someone else saw you like that long enough to take the pictures,” Olivia wisely pointed out.

  “No. That is what is different about this. This photographer has set up an automatic studio.” Marissa defended and went on to explain.

  The camera had a light on it. Red, yellow, green. It took a digital picture every three seconds. A screen on the wall in the room had a model prompting through suggested poses. In the end, the digital card was given to her to preview and to keep or delete the three hundred different pictures. The offer to have them professionally touched up and printed for a portfolio was there if she wanted.

  “It is like an elite photo booth,” she finished with a joking comparison to the coin operated machines.

  “That just sounds weird, Rissa. But the possibilities...Is that all you did was a lingerie shoot?” her friend goaded.

  “Yes!” Marissa lied.

  Olivia asked her to send one of the photos, but Marissa refused explaining that she wanted Jack to be the first to see. That was the truth because she had done so much more than strip to a beautiful undergarment set.

  The pictures were in her cloud storage, and after ending the call with Olivia, she slid through them silently appraising herself. The pictures were as glamorous as any she had seen in print. The preparation and process had taken all day while Tristan had played with his cousins at Candace’s house. The morning had begun with an airbrush tan of a light natural shade, and her hair and nails had been done again, as well as–

  “Mom, is lunch ready?”

  “Yeah Mom. Is lunch ready?”

  Marissa dropped the phone. Frantically, she snatched it up, clearing the sexy screen while sending Dax a grin of greeting. She was seven years older than he was, but this was the second time this week that his nearness had flustered her. If he felt some sort of sexual tension, he never let on, easily falling into little brother role.

  Strolling off with his and Tristan’s food, he stopped long enough to set Tristan’s lunch up on the sofa table and then plopped on the couch himself.

  It was okay to be attracted to someone else sometimes, she reminded herself. This was happening because Dax always looked hot right out of bed, and she had been almost a week with no Jack.

  As if reading her mind, Dax called, “Jack’s coming in for a night tomorrow, right?”

  “Yeah.” Marissa stood at the top of the step leading to the sunken den while munching her own Quesadilla.

  “I am not doing much the next couple of days. I was thinking that Tristan and I would hang out some. If you have anywhere you need to go today, or tomorrow, go for it.” There had not been many opportunities yet to enjoy her newest shiny red toy. Even the other day Randi had picked her up.

  ♪♫¨♫♪

  Sleep did not come easy these nights with Jack gone. That first night she had rolled around in her bed for an hour trying to get comfortable before falling asleep. The next night was much the same. She imagined Jack taking the stage as Tristan growled his own lyrics as he showered. She read his story then with a final kiss crossed through the bathroom to her guest room. Jerking the spread back, she stood for an indecisive moment before moving down the hall to the masters suite. After staring at the large empty bed, she turned, leaving the automatic lamp on and paused at the spare room across from her own and Tristan’s.

  The room was mainly a junk room, with old amps, tower computers and other paraphernalia cluttering it. She had learned that prior to her in, Dax had occupied the room she now slept in, which to her relief, explained the clothing in the dresser. Out of boredom, she eyed this room’s dresser, and since the area was tighter, was able to sit on the foot of the bed and pull open a drawer.

  No tee shirts or clothing was hidden away. Instead a mass of cell phones was crammed into the space. Dumbfounded, she observed the various models, some older flip tops. Slide pads. Newer cell tops. The last several years lay before her arr
ayed in dozens of the phones and in many cases their cords.

  Curious, she selected a few and searched the room for random plugs. This was silly, and immensely invasive, but she began going through the first when there was barely enough power to turn it on. Female numbers far outweighed the guys and the texts. She couldn’t look away and the one liners became a blur.

  ‘Baby what are you wearing?’

  ‘Same thing you saw me in last’

  ‘I’m going to take a wild guess and assume that means nothing?’

  ‘Really, you have to guess, you don’t remember?’

  ‘Course I do. Just wanted you all feisty.’

  ‘Baby the next few weeks are going to be crazy busy, no time for texts…’

  And that was the end of Shelia.

  ‘Girl, I just cracked a rib laughing so hard. Love talking to you.’

  ‘Love talking to you Jack Storm but mostly I love—’

  Marissa jerked her gaze away. Yeah, she loved that herself…Next girl.

  ‘Want me to leave some passes at the Detroit show?’

  ‘For you and a girlfriend, just making that clear, unless your man wants to watch?’

  Fresh irritation pricked toward Jack Storm and not the Jack Loren she loved.

  ‘Jackie, every day brings you closer.’

  ‘Heh, 2 nites, can’t wait...’

  ‘Jackie, could you have your guard unhand me?’

  ‘You make it home ok sweetheart?’

  ‘Great night, total agreement. Hey the next few weeks will be crazy no time for texts…’

  And that was the end of Kelly

  The text messages were addictive and before she knew it she had passed hours cyber eavesdropping through various phone numbers.

  “Knock, knock…” Dax’s voice caused her to drop the most current lit screen. She was mortified, but he grinned as he looked around at the clutter. “The hoarder room.”

  “I know this looks weird,” she stammered, “but a drawer full of phones was bizarre and before I knew it—”

  “No need to explain. I’ve used them for late night reading myself. Don’t know why he doesn’t just toss them. Probably, because one had your number in it,” he quirked a grin.

  “You mean he would use these phones for, his…” She couldn’t say hookups. But of course, it made sense that he would be stalked to death by random women if he gave them his lifetime listing.

  Yet, he had always used the same number with her. That is when it hit her. She had been given his original number from the first hookup. Not some toss away when done fake, phone number.

  “Does he ever use these again?” She could not stop the question and, as they spoke, Dax was pecking through one, grinning at whatever he was reading.

  “Nah. Actually they were cluttering the downstairs room and when I took over the downstairs room, I threw them in here.”

  Tossing the phone he was perusing back with the others, he said, “Oh, I came up ‘cause you weren’t answering text or anything. Jack is trying to get through.”

  Elated, she jumped up, not yet used to the routines of after show calls, then guardedly turned back. “Can you not tell him I found his secret harlot phone stash?”

  “Secret harlot phone stash safe with me.” A gesture of boy scout or other honor type motion went to his brow.

  Marissa was the one who spilled her own beans, unable to keep from ribbing him over the many women whose text breakups had ended with, ‘I’m going to be really busy…’

  “I got bored,” he defended. “Besides, you always had my real number…coulda used it at any time…”

  When she grew quiet, he apologized. “I’m sorry, Mariss. I just meant you were different from the beginning. I knew I never wanted to throw a phone with your number away…Get Dax to throw those things out. I can’t believe they are still around…”

  “They made for good reading.”

  “You didn’t!”

  “I shouldn’t have.” Suddenly, she was ashamed. “I can’t believe I snooped like that…”

  “It’s not snooping. Everything in the house is yours, Mariss, my honey. Just toss them when you are done with your fun.”

  “Haha.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” The suspicion in his drawl was extensive.

  “Just that sometimes there was too much detail. Like I say, I shouldn’t have snooped.”

  “Mariss? Take a shower for me…”

  “What a subject change. I must have missed that text. What was her name?”

  “Her name was not important. Cause every time I thought of her, I thought of how beautiful she was, all wet in the shower. So beautiful, I lost my sanity.” Through the iPad screen his eyes were dark, mysterious. “And on the bus at the most random times, I wanted to call her, see if she would take a shower for me. But, as much as I wanted that, I didn’t want her mad at me if that wasn’t her thing, you know?”

  If they had a phone sex relationship before she began to grow in girth, would it have changed the four they had missed years as a family?

  “So I would think of her long wet hair, how it kind of splayed over your tits…” His vague pronouns began to merge with her specifically. “…how the water streamed down her body into rivers that met…I remember how you were shaved, so beautiful and before I could kiss it again, cause I had never gotten enough of my lips against you in that bed…you dropped to your knees.”

  Unconsciously, her fingers skipped ahead, remembering him on his knees…but his thoughts had jumped on ahead…

  “Mariss, I remember thinking I had to be hurting you, and I asked you…”

  He had licked her ear while asking. She could still remember pressing closer into the millimeter he had eased away.

  “Since all you can do is throw the iPad at me, I’m going to risk that question that I did not ever have the guts to ask…”

  “It won’t mess up the iPad to be in a steamy room?”

  “Guess we will see…”

  ♪♫¨♫♪

  Marissa took Dax up on his offer and late the next morning coasted down the canyon road. Gradually, she was learning her way around their section of Los Angeles.

  For some reason after that shower, Jack had been recollecting his stay at her house and the chicken gumbo he loved came into the conversation.

  Pulling into a parking lot, she secured her car, and walked inside a grocery store for the first time in almost a month. Guiding the cart up and down aisles, she enjoyed pricing and picking through the cereals for the favorites she and Tristan might have forgotten about. Although she had come in for gumbo ingredients, she wound up in the checkout line with a buggy full.

  Jack phoned while she was swiping the credit card he had given her, and as she accepted the call, she sent an apologetic look to the cashier who was bagging the last of her items.

  “Hey you!” It was going to be all she could do to keep the meal a secret since he had picked this opportune time to call.

  “Mariss, my honey, what’s up?”

  The attendant began to wheel the buggy out. With a smile of thanks, she kept a few paces ahead to lead the way to her car while telling Jack she was doing some shopping.

  “Shopping huh?” he teased, warm intimacy infusing his words. “Thought you and Randi did that a few days ago?”

  “Well I’m shopping again,” Looking ahead, she gauged the distance to the car, and that is when she saw the long snoot of a camera.

  “Guess I am going to have to come home before you get too bored, or I may be too broke to fly home.”

  Ironically, their faces always stayed hidden as they captured the faces of their targets. The signature shoulder bag hung down one arm and rested on his hip.

  Paparazzi.

  Here, at the grocery store! How would word have even gotten out? And why were they so interested in having a photo of her, minus Jack?

  “Hey? I’m kidding. You know that,” Jack sweetly ventured when she remained quiet for too long.


  “Marissa!” The faceless stranger spoke. “Hi. A smile would be great.”

  From thousands of cellular jumps away, Jack continued, “Buy whatever you want. As long as you buy something sexy for me.”

  “Just one shot,” the voice behind the camera persisted.

  “No, I’m sorry not this time,” she politely parroted one of Jack’s lines and put her head down.

  “Mariss, honey, is someone there? What’s going on?”

  “One second for one shot, Marissa. That’s all.”

  Shaking her head, she dropped her chin letting her hair fall in front of her face and tried not to slow her steps.

  “Sir, could you leave the premises?” The skinny kid had moved from behind her cart of groceries to step front of her and made a valiant stand.

  Her car was a few car bumpers away, and that is when she saw the other paps blocking her way.

  “You never say a thing to any of us. We are just trying to do a job. Do you think you are too good for us?”

  The tone quickly became hostile, and when she tried to step around, one of them would step the same direction.

  “Mariss, honey, is Dax there to handle that?” Jack’s voice sounded as desperate as she felt.

  “Marissa give me some of that southern hospitality, girl!”

  “Please, I just want to get to my car...,” she spoke to the asphalt.

  “I’ll go for security...” The skinny teen abandoned her cart and ran for the store.

  “Mariss! Honey, listen to me. Turn around walk away from your car,” Jack instructed. “That’s what he is after. A picture of you with the car. Don’t give it to the asshole.”

  “Okay,” she finally spoke to Jack and was surprised at how much her voice shook.

  “Hey! Word is you hit Jack when you caught him at a titty bar!”

  Appalled, she looked up and blinked while wondering why the camera even flashed in the brightness of the day.

  “Walk away, Mariss. Go back in a store, honey.”

  “Okay.”

  “How did your little boy break his arm!”