When I wake for the last time it's almost noon. He left while I slept so I didn't get to tell him goodbye. I have the feeling this will not be for the last time. I'd like it if he'd wake me up when he leaves. Maybe I'll say something if I think it will do any good.
This is my punishment for being with a married (or as good as married) man. I wonder again what I'm doing but I've fallen so hard for him reason is being left behind.
He seemed to enjoy his little lovemaking "game" last night. I hope isn't an indication he's controlling. If he is he's going to find I'm not going to be very cooperative. I hope. He's nine years older than me and that gives him a certain amount of authority but he is not in control of my life--I am.
Gina tells me I'm glowing. I feel like I'm carrying around this wonderful secret that no one else knows (except her). So far it's been good—except for never knowing when I'm going to see him, never getting to wake up with him in the morning, not getting to do little things like cook dinner for him. You know, all those little things you take for granted in an ordinary relationship.
Or having his kid. I'm only twenty-three and motherhood is not on my agenda. I like my life, I like only being responsible for me. I had a scare last year and almost died. Since then I don't seem to need birth control—I haven't slept with a lot of men but I don't seem to get pregnant.
The message light was blinking on my answering machine when I got home from work. I push the button and hear him saying, "Come to the studio as soon as you get off work, or as soon as you get this. I'll keep a lookout for you. Come soon, baby."
Oh god. I rush into the bathroom and brush my teeth, then splash cold water on my face. I brush my hair, wishing I had time to do something with it, but it can't be helped.
I throw on my denim jacket then jump in my car. Fortunately, although it's not close, the studio isn't all that far away. That's not what's worrying me, what if the guys in his band don't like me? What if they see me as an intruder? These are men who are not exactly faithful to their wives but I don't know the protocol for girlfriends.
Nervous as I am, I am enjoying the drive. I love scenic drives and the highway along the coast, even in the dark. The water looks dark grey with light grey foam where the waves break. Malibu is beautiful, even at night.
I have butterflies in my stomach, I can feel them flitting around. I'm so nervous that I don't turn on the radio knowing that the music won't soothe me, just add to my nerves.
I park close to the studio, knowing no one is going to mind that my car is parked in the tiny lot. My heart is beating so hard it feels like it wants to jump out of my chest and there's no way I can slow it down. "Breathe," I tell myself, "breathe."
"Thought you'd never get here," a familiar voice comes out of the darkness. He walks over to my car and opens the door, then takes me in his arms.
I hold him tightly, "You know what time I get off work and how long it takes to get here. Unlike you, I don't drive like a maniac. I'm still wearing the same clothes I wore to work. I just now realized I forgot to fill the cat bowls, there'll be hell to pay when I get home."
"Come in and meet the guys," he says. He must see the look of apprehension on my face, "Hey," he says, "Don't worry, they're going to love you. We may not be the nicest bunch of guys you'll ever meet but we're friendly. They're waiting to meet you, don't be shy."
Shy is what I was, but I smiled and shook the hand of each member I was introduced to. Levon with his blond hair and blue eyes twinkling gave me a toothy smile. Richard, tall and thin with dark hair and eyes, shook my hand shyly. Garth is a big bear of a man but I think there's a devil in his smile. Robbie stares at me through his wire-rim glasses and examines me closely. When he shakes my hand he holds onto it a little too long and it makes me uncomfortable.
I wonder if Rick had been singing my praises and if that was a good thing. They were friendly, though, and nice. Rick was apologetic and said they had to get back to work but made sure I was comfortable and settled in an easy chair. They ignored my presence, which is exactly what I wanted.
They play, breaking off at times to discuss the finer points of a song, and should it be done with a different tempo? Louder? Softer? Sometimes they argued but never fought, and I got to listen to my own private concert. I wish I had a hidden tape recorder because what I was hearing was nothing like you'd hear in a concert or an album.
I was tired and sometimes I drifted off, but always woke to hear them playing something. Maybe I didn't hear a song being played all the way through, but I had the privilege to witness the actual construction of a song. That's a treat few people get to experience.
It was about three-thirty when Rick came and pulled me to my feet. "Come on, we're taking a little break," and he led me through the halls until we came to a bedroom. "This is mine, make yourself comfortable," which I soon understand to mean, "Take off your clothes."
Our lovemaking was rushed, the band was waiting to continue the rehearsal. So we reluctantly got dressed and he walked me out to my car.
"You don't need to do this," I told him, hadn't I said this before?
He only smiled. "Yes, I do. I want to make sure you're safe."
"I didn't get to say goodbye to your band, it seems kind of rude."
"I thought I'd save you a little embarrassment and teasing. They'll give you a hard time, but it's all in fun. Typical guy stuff, you understand. If they don't tease you it means they don't like you. In the meantime, drive carefully." He kissed me and helped me into the car.
I watched him in my rearview mirror as I drove off. He watched for a little while, then turned around and went back into the building.
I was on a high. I felt sexy, attractive, and even if I wasn't loved I felt that way. I woke every morning and when I looked at my face in the mirror I saw a reflection of the woman he saw in me. I was feeling beautiful and it was an unbelievable high.
There was something about our relationship that felt like it was meant to be. It was kismet, it was fate. If I'd wondered why I'd never been in a long-term relationship I understood that it was because I'd been waiting for him.
Or so I told myself.
A week went by and I didn't hear from him. No matter, I told myself, it's usually a week before I hear from him anyway. Then another week and still no word, that hadn't happened since we first started seeing each other.
Nothing is wrong, I told myself although inside I felt panicky. Maybe introducing me to the band had been a ruse, he'd been planning to leave me. Maybe the guys didn't like me so he decided to get rid of me. Maybe his girlfriend suspects something and he's either going to break us up or lay low for a while.
All sorts of scenarios were playing themselves out in my head. All I knew was that I should have heard from him and I was afraid he didn't want me anymore.
I had taken a shower and was getting ready for work. I heard someone knocking at my door and I wrapped a bath sheet around me and went to see who it was.
I looked through the peephole and there he was. He knocked again, saying, "Let me in baby, please."
I undid the chain and unlocked the door. I cracked it a few inches and asked him, "It's been two weeks, why haven't you called?"
"Let me in, please, and I'll tell you all about it, okay?"
I couldn't resist him, I never could. I opened the door and let him in, apprehensive, and not trusting. I didn't know what he wanted until he pulled the towel off me and threw me over his shoulder.
"No," I said, "You can't do this. You haven't called or talked to me for two whole weeks. You can't expect me to..."
He swatted me on my bare bottom. "Stop talking, we'll talk afterward and I'll tell you what's going on. I feel bad about not calling, but there's a reason."
When we finished, he lit his "after sex" cigarette. He looked around on my nightstand for something to use as an ashtray, and since I'm a non-smoker nothing was there.
"Would you get me a saucer or something I can use for an ashtray?" He gave me one of his charming smiles, but it didn't work.
"You're the one smoking in my apartment, you want an ashtray, you get it, or better still, why don't you just not smoke when you're here? You smoke too much anyway."
His look said it all, he definitely would smoke if he wanted to. The not smoking idea would not fly. He got up and I watched his slim body with the nice ass as he made his way to the kitchen and back to the bedroom. He settled back on the pillow and gave me a cryptic look.
"How hard is it for you to get days off? I mean, if you needed a specific day or two off how hard would it be to get it, and could you get three? "
"Two days? I can schedule two in a row. I'll ask Dorothy and if she gets stubborn I'll bribe her with one of my carrot cakes. Three days is not impossible, but more complicated. What is this about, anyway? And you told me you'd tell me why I haven't heard from you."
He stubbed his cigarette out. "Look, the reason I haven't called is that we're going on tour and we're doing a lot of rehearsing. I haven't even been home much to see my girlfriend and my kids. I should have called, I'm sorry, things get hectic when we prepare for tours."
"Kids, huh?"
"Yeah, a girl and two boys. Do you mind?" He seemed suddenly unsure of himself.
"Why should I mind? I'm somebody's daughter. No, I don't mind."
I was a little caught off guard by this, but then again, it was something new I'd learned about him. I hope he was a good dad.
"You had me kind of scared, I didn't know what to think. I mean you always call, especially when you know you're not going to have a chance to see me."
He took my hand, "Okay, I get it, I do. Look, we'll have a weekend for our wives and our kids but I can't have you come then. I'll talk to our tour manager and see what I can set up. We're going to be on the road for three months and that will be a long time to not see you. I'll work something out, I'll get you tickets and you can fly out to meet me."
"Three months seems like a long time."
He sighed, "We've done it for longer and I won't pretend that it's easy. It's hard on the families, it's hard on us. And once we get home, we'll start working on the new record."
"I thought touring was the time when the boys get to be bad and get away with it."
"Oh, there's a little of that, well, maybe more than a little," he grinned sheepishly, "But not as much as you think."
He started to pull on his clothes. "Do you have to work?" I nodded, "At six?" I nodded again.
"You'll have to give me at least two weeks, preferably three to ask for specific days off. When do you leave?" I asked him.
"Two weeks. I won't be able to see you again until we meet up. The tour manager will get in touch with you, he's nice so don't worry. And by the way, the guys did like you. Levon thinks you're cute and offered to take you off my hands."
I was tearing up a little so he took my hands, "I know this is hard, but this is what you signed up for. I promise I'll make this worth your while. We've got the odds stacked against us, but it doesn't mean we can't do it. Come on now, give me a smile and a kiss."
I threw my arms around him, wanting to ask, "Do you love me? Are you doing this because you love me?" But I didn't, I gave him his smile and his kiss and watched him walk out the door, wondering what in the world made me think I could do this?