Heartstrings (19 page)

My heart tightens, and it’s just too much to go into.
Penny’s enthusiasm is twisting the knife of Slade’s threatened abandonment.
“Long story,” I write back, “Can’t talk now.”

A moment passes before a short, “OK. Text me later” pops up
on my screen. I shut down my phone and slip it away. I can’t deal with any news
from the outside world right now—I have a crisis to deal with right here. God
forbid my parents call and muck up my thought process further. I spot another
town car in the parking lot—the rest of the band must have beat us here. Slade
opens up the door to the diner, his eyes hard with pain. I hesitate for a
moment before going in. Why am I torturing myself like this? His mind seems
pretty made up. Still, there might still be a chance of salvaging things
between us. I put on a brave smile and walk into the diner with my head held
high.

A raucous cheer goes up as Slade and I walk through the
door. The diner is empty save for one big table in the back. Joe, Annabelle,
Dodge, and Eddie are all enjoying a round of beers, and Maggie the waitress is
standing by, beaming ear to ear. The sight of their happy party makes my heart
ache. I want to be able to celebrate with them. I want Jackson to enjoy this
victorious moment. But the cloud of our disagreement hangs heavy overhead.

I steal a glance at Slade and see that he’s grinning ear to
ear. Either he’s a wonderful actor, or he isn’t as devastated by this whole
mess as I am. I hope that it’s the former as I slide down into a chair opposite
Annabelle. She notices my forced smile right away, and clasps my hand
sympathetically over the table.

“You must be so shaken up,” she says kindly.

“What?” I ask. How could she know about our fight already?

“After what happened in the pit, of course,” she says.

“Right,” I say hurriedly, “The pit. Yeah. That was pretty
awful.

A look of curiosity crosses Annabelle’s features. Her big,
perceptive eyes don’t miss much. She can tell that I’m omitting something, but
she’s nice enough not to press me about it in front of the group. Across the
table, Eddie raises his beer in a celebratory toast.

“To Flagrant Disregard!” he says happily, “And the kickoff
of another excellent tour!”

“Cheers!” everyone says, clinking beer bottles. Slade won’t
meet my eye as I offer my bottle to his. I’m starting to get riled up by his
cold shoulder routine, but I swallow my annoyance as best I can.

“What’s everyone having?” Maggie asks, pad at the ready.

“I’d say a round of cheeseburgers,” Joe says, “Everyone OK
with that?” The group choruses assent, and Maggie heads back to the kitchen to
fetch our food. Dodge leans into the table, eyes reverently resting on Slade.

“That was pretty epic what you did back there,” he says.

“It’s starting to become a bit of a habit though, isn’t it?”
Eddie jokes, “Rescuing the helpless from the depths of the pit?”

“I’m not helpless,” I say sharply, glaring at the swarthy
manager, “I was attacked.”

“You probably shouldn’t have been in there in the first place,”
Joe says, “You have to warm up to that kind of thing.”

“I was forced in,” I tell him coldly, “By—”

“It was an accident,” Slade interrupts me, “Let’s change the
subject.”

I look at him incredulously. Why did he stop me from ratting
out that trio of evil band groupies? Is he trying to protect them, or
something? Preserve their place in the group, so that once I’m gone, there will
still be women on demand for the guys’ needs? I take an angry swig of beer to
keep from interrogating Slade.

“I’m just glad you’re both OK,” Annabelle says, “Now we
enjoy the rest of the tour together, bandages and all. You are coming on tour
with us, aren’t you Julia?”

All eyes turn to me as I try and think of something to tell
them. I look to Slade to supply an answer. I’m out of them myself.

“No,” he says quietly, “Julia isn’t coming. She has a trip
of her own planned.”

“Well, ditch those plans!” Dodge cries, “Come with us
instead!”

“She doesn’t want to,” Slade insists, “Rock isn’t her
thing.”

“I’ll be the judge of what my ‘thing’ is, Slade,” I say
heatedly. He’s not allowed to speak for me, even in band matters. “But no. I
won’t be coming. I’ve been looking forward to my own road trip for months. So.
That’s what I’ll be doing.”

Slade’s jaw twitches, and the rest of the table falls
silent. Our cloud of tension has engulfed the entire table. I feel terrible for
dragging down the mood of the celebration. All the more reason I should get out
of their hair as soon as possible.

“Here we are,” Maggie says, returning to the table with
trays piled high, “Five cheeseburgers. Medium rare. I should have just brought
an entire cow out to the table, I imagine.”

“Thank you Maggie,” Joe says. “These look great.”

“Well, I know how you like them,” she smiles, “God knows
you've all been coming long enough.”

I look around the table, wondering what these people must
have been like before stardom swept them away. Were they better off for their
success or worse? Suddenly, their fame seemed like a burden rather than a
blessing. What if I had met Slade before he was famous? Or what if he had come
to my hospital as a regular man? Would we have had a shot then? It was
impossible to say. But it certainly seems like the preferable fate right this
minute.

The rest of the group digs into their burgers. I do my best,
but I can’t do much more than pick at my fries. My appetite has long deserted
me. All I want to do is crawl into bed and cry for a week. I can’t even look at
Slade across the table. It’s too painful. The others babble happily as they
fill their stomachs with diner food. Only Slade and I are silent. But the party
wraps up soon enough, and Eddie slaps the table with his hands.

“OK gang,” he says, “We’ve got a while to travel before we
can call it a day!”

“What?” I ask, “Where are you—?”

“New York, baby!” says Joe happily, “We’re gonna press on
until we get to the next city. Our tour bus will be here any minute. Talk about
service, huh?”

“Yeah,” I say weakly, “That’s...really cool.”

“Can you at least come with us that far?” Dodge asks.

“No,” I say, “I’d better not.”

“Probably for the best,” Slade says. His words are like ice
picks digging into my warm, bleeding heart.

“How are you getting home then?” Eddie asks.

“Oh,” I say, “My car is back in Philly.”

“Take a town car,” Annabelle says, “They can catch up with
us later.”

“Is that OK?” I ask Eddie.

“Sure,” he says, “That works out. Let’s get a move on then,
crew!”

We all say our goodbyes and thank you’s to Maggie and head
out into the night. Sure enough, an enormous tour bus swings into the parking lot
as soon as we emerge. I stare at the gigantic vehicle—it’s practically a
airplane, it’s so big. I look despondently over at the waiting pair of town
cars. They’re my ride, I suppose. I give Joe and Dodge big hugs, and even let
the slightly creepy Eddie fold me in his arms for a second. Annabelle squeezes
me tightly before handing me off to Slade.

He grabs hold of my elbow and walks me to Anders’ town car.
With his mouth pulled into a straight, serious line, he opens the door and
helps me inside. I go without protest, trying to salvage what little of my
pride is left to me. Slade leans into the cabin, looking at me with hard eyes.

“Take care of yourself,” he tells me, his voice gratifyingly
thick. Maybe he cares, even a little, that we’re saying goodbye.

“You too,” I tell him, “Change that bandage soon.”

“OK,” he says, lingering, “Julia...I really do care about
you.”

“I know, but this could never work, we both know that,” I
tell him, tears welling up in my eyes. “Goodbye Slade.”

“Goodbye,” he says, and he slams the door.

I watch his retreating form through a veil of tears. Finally
alone, I let the heaving sobs I’ve been holding in all night take me. I bury my
face in my hands, hot salty drops course down between my fingers. From beyond
my range of vision, I hear the tour bus roar to life and take off. He’s gone.
After everything that’s passed between us during this incredible week, he’s
gone from my life just as suddenly as he fell into it. I let the weeping cries
tear through my throat with abandon. I feel like I’m mourning someone who’s
passed away. I suppose he may as well be dead—he’s gone from my life forever.

Chapter Thirteen

* * * * *

I jump as I hear the car door ease open and feel someone
sidle in next to me. It’s not Slade, I know the weight of his body well enough
by now. I peer through the tears that cling to my eyelashes. Annabelle closes
the door behind her and turns to pull me against her small body. Our engine
roars to life as the drummer hugs me tightly. I feel a fresh wave of tears
pouring down my face at her simple act of compassion. I pull away just slightly
and look up into her concerned face.

“Wh-what are you doing here?” I ask, sniffling. “You’re
supposed to be on the bus!”

“The town cars are both coming with us,” she says, “I can
hitch a ride with them.”

“But...why?” I ask, “I’m sorry. That was rude. It’s
just...what are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” she says. “We should both
be on that tour bus, but here we are. Headed in the exact opposite direction. I
can tell when something’s wrong with Slade, you know. I’m pretty perceptive.
And you, my dear, are rather an open book.”

“I’m sorry,” I say again, “You don’t have to worry. I’m just
a little emotional after tonight. I’ll be fine. You should go back and join up
with the guys.”

“Too late,” she says, as the car begins to move, “You’re
stuck with me now. And I want to know what’s going on.”

“Won’t Slade be mad that we’re talking?” I ask. It would be
wonderful to talk to a woman about what’s going on with me right now, but I
don’t want to cross any lines.

“It’s fine,” she assures me, “Slade is a big boy. But I’ve
known him since he was a little boy, you know. We’ve all known each other all
our lives. Which means that I was there when his dad died, and he became the
man of the house at age ten.”

“That must have been horrible,” I say softly.

“It was,” Annabelle says, “Slade locked himself in a suit of
armor and refused to be anything to anyone but the rescuer, the protector.
Which was fine with his mom and sisters, but when girls became a part of the
equation...Well, let’s just say that Slade’s longest relationship has lasted
about three months. He’s always refused to let anyone in, because once he does,
he feels solely responsible for them. And he can’t do that to himself anymore.”

“Is that why he’s closed off to me?” I ask.

“Closed off?” Annabelle says, “Julia, you’re the first woman
I’ve seen him open up to. Ever. He already cares about you, I think he even
loves you, in a way that means he has to protect you no matter what."

Did she just say
he loves me
?

"He’s not sending you away to keep you at arm’s
length," she continues, "You’re in his heart, now. He’s just doing
what he thinks he has to, so that you’ll always be there. He’s trying to do
right by you the only way he knows how.”

“It doesn’t feel right,” I say, “Leaving him feels so
wrong.”

“That’s because it is,” Annabelle says, “You two should be
together. I’m not saying you have to settle down and get a dog and a backyard. I’m
saying that right now, you’re important to each other. I can see it. There’s
something between you that has to be consummated. Pardon the phrasing. You owe
it to each other to see this thing through, wherever it leads. And this time,
Julia, you have to be the bigger person. You have to go to him and refuse to
leave. You have to cure him of this delusion once and for all. I know it’s
unfair, but it’s what you have to do.”

“What if he doesn’t want to be cured?” I ask.

“Then you’re out a trip to New York. Big deal,” she says.
“Blow off your road trip and come get your man. He wants you, I know he wants
you. He just has to let himself, without worrying about consequences. And you
do to.”

We travel on in silence for a while, and I let Annabelle’s
words sink in. She’s perfectly happy to let me dwell on her orders. When we
finally reach Philly and stop beside my parked car, I pull myself out of the
seat and take deep, steadying breaths. Annabelle peers out after me as I
approach my little car.

“You know what’s right, Julia,” she says, “Don’t deny
yourself. I hope everything works out. I hope that you get to be happy.”

“Thank you Annabelle,” I say.

She smiles and closes the door. The town cars race away,
leaving me alone in the abandoned parking lot. I’ve never been more conflicted
about anything in my life. I sink into the driver’s seat of my car and stare
through the windshield. Do I go home, get my things together, and head West on
my solo road trip? Try and force Slade out of my mind with the open road and the
breeze in my hair? Or do I head East to New York City, force him to move beyond
his fears and doubts, and accept the gift we’ve been given. I turn the key and
close my eyes. In my most secret of hearts, there’s only one option. And I’ve
known what I have to do all along.