Sweet Thing (19 page)

“There they are. Sunbathing on my dime… fucking assholes,” he said in a low voice. I stood behind him and looked out the window to where Audrey and Dustin were lying by the pool, sharing a chaise lounge. I wrapped my arms around him from behind and gave him a squeeze. He brought my hand to his mouth and kissed it. Turning, he picked up his bag and headed for the door, never letting go of my hand. We held hands all the way to the Jeep. As we headed back to the city, I closed my eyes and dozed off to the sound of the wind in my hair.

I didn’t wake up until Will was halfway up the stairs to our apartment with me in his arms. I hooked my arm around his neck and let him carry me all the way up. He looked down at me and smiled. “Hi, sleepyhead. You were out for the count.”

“Yeah, I was exhausted.”

He set me down on the landing and opened the door. “I’ll take the Jeep to Jenny’s parents’. Go ahead, go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning,” he said and then waited for me to respond. I hesitated a moment and thought it would have felt perfectly normal to reach up and kiss him, but I knew that would be blurring the lines, so I didn’t.

“Okay, thank you. Will, you’re the best.” He winked at me and then trotted down the stairs.

The next morning when I heard Will in the shower, I got up and headed to the kitchen. I poured myself a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter while I flipped through
The New Yorker
. I flinched when he wrapped his arms around me from behind.

“Easy, jumpy cat; just wanted say good morning.” And then he kissed me behind the ear.

“Morning. Why are you up so early?”

He walked over and poured himself a cup of coffee. “I have a meeting with Frank.”

I turned around and hopped up on the counter in my usual sweats and T-shirt. Will was wearing nothing but a towel. It hung low, showing off the cut lines of his lower abdomen. I gaped at him until I noticed he was watching me. He tilted his head to the side and smirked. “Hi, friend,” he said in a low voice.

I shook my head and took a deep breath through my nose. “Okay, so are you going to fill me in on what Frank says?”

“Absolutely. I have work the next five days, but let’s make dinner here on Saturday night and then we can jam a little. What do you think?”

“Yes, let’s do that.” He walked over and stood between my legs, running his hands up my thighs. I took a deep breath and placed my hands over his. “I have to get in the shower,” I whispered.

“How ‘bout a bath?” he said, arching his eyebrows.

I smiled shyly and shook my head.

“Have a good day then. I’ll see you later.” And then he made kissy lips, so I leaned in and gave him a peck.

“You too.”

He lifted me off the counter and then smacked my butt as I walked away. I huffed and pretended it annoyed me while I tried unsuccessfully to hide the permanent grin on my face.

Wednesday afternoon Jenny called me drunk from her honeymoon in Cozumel, wanting to know what had happened to Will after the wedding, so I filled her in on the details.

“What? You’re kidding me? For Dustin? What the hell was that girl thinking? Well at least the door is open for you to jump his bones.” Her voice was slurred.

“There will be no bone-jumping, Jenny. We’re friends and I’m really starting to feel close to him. I want it this way… for a long time.”

“Okay girl, whatever you say. Tyler and I are workin’ on babies over here, so you better put on your auntie pants,” she said, giggling. I could hear Tyler in the background telling her to hang up.

“I love you guys. Have fun!”

On Saturday when I got home from Kell’s, Will was already cooking. He was making my favorite pasta dish. I noticed there was wine on the counter and one of my father’s Nick Drake albums was playing softly in the background. We sat at the table and ate while we talked about our week; being with him that way felt like home. Will always had a handful of interesting bar stories to share. I told him about Jenny and Tyler trying for a baby and that led into an unexpected conversation.

“That’s awesome—they love each other,” he said and it seemed that simple to him, just like it was that simple to Jenny and Tyler.

“Well, they’ve only been together for a few months; they haven’t even lived together,” I argued.

“Listen, my sister was married for ten years before she and her husband decided to have a kid. They were divorced three months after the baby was born. You never know—it’s a crapshoot, a leap of faith.”

“No such thing,” I said with a wry smile.

“How can you say that? You can’t predict how others will behave in certain situations.”

“Cause and effect. The decisions we make for ourselves have the most impact on where we end up in the future. Your sister should have seen the signs, or maybe she did and that’s why she waited ten years to have a kid. It’s not a crapshoot, the writing’s on the wall long before we take that so-called leap of faith.”

“The problem with that theory is that you are assuming everyone is a perfect judge of character. The leap of faith is giving it a chance and not projecting your own crap on someone else because you’re afraid of failing.” It was the first time Will had ever really talked seriously to me about life and even though we were talking about other people, I knew he was referring to me.

“Well, what about you? Why haven’t you signed a deal yet?” I said, arching my eyebrows.

“I’m glad you brought that up. I’m scheduled to go into the studio to cut the demo next week. Can you make it in there on Thursday to lay down that piano track we worked on?”

“Yes, definitely,” I said. “Forward progress, Will… keep making it.”

He narrowed his eyes and cocked his head to the side. I thought for a second that I’d offended him and then he said, “I have a show tomorrow night at Dropzone; do you want to come and play?” He looked hopeful but poised for rejection. I waited twenty seconds before answering.

“Okay,” I said in a low voice.

“Really?” He stood up from the table, grabbed my face with both hands, and planted a hard, close-mouthed kiss on my lips.

“Will!” I protested.

“Lighten up, Mia. Come on, let’s practice.”

We played music into the wee hours of the morning, eventually narrowing down our set list for the show. Before heading to bed, I decided to take a shower. Through the frosted shower curtain I watched Will walk into the bathroom, brush his teeth, and then turn and lean against the counter. He crossed his feet and arms and put his head down into Will’s standard
I’m being respectful
posture.

“Hey… do you need me to wash your hair or your back or anything?” I could hear mischief in his voice.

“Nope,” I said, shutting off the water. I wrapped myself in a towel, flung the curtain open, and stepped out. I paused and turned as I walked out the door. Grabbing his face in my hand, I leaned in and gave him a peck on the cheek.

“Thanks for asking, though. Night, buddy.”

“Night, sweet thing.”

The show at Dropzone was a success and even though we were performing under the name Bokononism, Will’s fans were on to him, so we had a good turnout. Because of all the solo shows, he had perfected the skill of live looping. It was actually quite remarkable. He would have a few instruments along with a recording device that he could control with foot pedals. He’d play a guitar riff or pluck the violin and record it live onstage to play in a loop while he was strumming another guitar and singing. Because it requires so much coordination and instrumental expertise, the process really wowed the audience. His gifts were incontestable when he was performing.

The Dropzone had an old grand piano with clunky keys and a rattling string reverberation that gave the sound a rich character. Will introduced me as his little sister, which threw me for a loop, but I went with it. It reminded me of the way Willie Nelson always introduces his piano-playing sister. I thought about Willie’s song “Angel Flying Too Close to the Ground” as I watched Will strumming his guitar and singing with his eyes closed and his head tilted to the heavens. I thought that song could have been written for him.

After the show, we were swarmed by people asking when he was going to release an album. His only response was
soon
. I was approached by a good-looking guy named Mark who wanted to buy me a drink. Will must have overheard because he came up from behind and wrapped his arms around me. He bent down and whispered, “We gotta go,” and then placed a lingering kiss over my ear. Mark looked at me, somewhat disgusted. I had gotten used to Will touching me that way, so I ignored him. I looked at Mark and thought briefly that I might take him up on the offer just to spite Will for being the over-protective roommate.

“You guys aren’t really brother and sister, are you?” Mark asked with a smile.

“Yeah, we are,” Will said quickly and then smacked me on the ass. “Let’s hit it, sis.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “It was nice meeting you, Mark. Thanks for the offer, but we better get going.” Mark didn’t seem disappointed. If anything, I thought I caught a look of relief on his face as we walked away.

“Why’d you do that? He just wanted buy me a drink,” I said with mock disappointment.

“There are male groupies, too, Mia. Next thing you know he’ll be at the next performance with your portrait silkscreened on his T-shirt,” he said, laughing.

“I doubt that.”

Back at the apartment, I stood in Will’s doorway as he sat on his bed removing his shoes. “I have to be at Kell’s early tomorrow so I’m gonna get to bed.”

He stood up directly in front of me, head down, and took my hands in his.

When his gaze met mine, I saw peace in his eyes. “You were great tonight. Thank you, Mia.”

I felt my face flush. “You’re too kind. Really, you were amazing.” This time I threw my arms around his neck, reached up on my tippy toes, and gave him a big, long hug. He held me tight against him.

“Goodnight,” he said and then kissed my cheek.

I cried as I lay in my bed that night, thinking about how it wouldn’t be long before Will would go off and become a famous musician, leaving this little life we created behind. There would be models and celebrities vying for his attention and I would become just a blurry memory from the early years. I would see him in some interview on the internet talking about how he’d spent time in the East Village, playing in seedy venues and reading poetry in coffee shops. I cried because I knew that if I gave myself to Will, I would be left in pieces… left behind. The only way I could hang on was to be his friend, even though every part of me wanted more.

Track 13: The Sound of His Soul

On Thursday, I woke up feeling an unreasonable amount of excitement about going to the recording studio where Will was working on his demo. I took Jackson for a slow, meandering walk through the park. He was becoming more and more listless during our outings. Jackson always had sad eyes, but they were starting to look hollow. I knew he was growing old fast and that day I begged him to hang on for another year.

“I need you, buddy, now more than ever,” I said to him. He wagged his tail and I felt my heart lift a little. It would be a good day; I could feel it, and for the first time in a while I looked forward to working hard at something; music never really felt like work anyway.

When I got to the studio, Will greeted me with enthusiasm. He had already completed two songs and just needed the piano track for the third to complete his demo. He was including my song, which he named “Pray,” along with “All Fine” and finally the song “Polarize” that I would be working on.

“Hey, baby,” he said, kissing me on the cheek. He quickly grabbed my hand and led me through the studio and past a few people sitting at on a couch in the lobby area. “This is Mia, everyone!” he shouted and then pulled me through a door and motioned for me to sit down at the mixing console. Frank was there and another man who I assumed was the engineer. “Mia, this is Jeff. Jeff, Mia.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said, shaking his hand. I looked up at Frank and smiled. He winked back at me but remained quiet in the corner. I directed my attention to Will, who was all business, moving the dials and pressing buttons. I could barely wrap my head around what he was doing.

“Listen, you have hear this and tell me what you think,” he said. It was my song playing and it sounded better than I could have possibly imagined it. As Will’s vocal began to rise in the second verse, I got chills; goose bumps covered my body. He held each note so long and steady and controlled; I couldn’t think of any way to make the song better.

He looked at me sharply while I listened and then he said, “What do you think? Too much on the low end?” The look on his face was intensely serious.

“No way! It’s perfect. That depth makes the song,” I said.

“Yeah, I agree.” He worked at the board like every dial was a string on his guitar. I was astonished. Jeff the engineer literally did nothing; he was leaning back in his chair with his feet propped on a table. I’m pretty sure I saw dollar signs on Frank’s eyeballs as he shot me the most self-satisfied smile I had ever seen. Will was a perfectionist and there was no doubt that he was in his element in the studio.

“Let’s do this, then,” he said while flipping a couple of switches. He stood up, reached for my hand, and led me into the soundproof room where I sat down at a gorgeous Yamaha grand piano. He spoke to Jeff through the window. “Okay, we’re gonna go, start to finish, one take, and then we’re outta here.”