Lulu's Loves (10 page)

“I’ll wait.”

We snoozed a while. Later, we showered and dressed. Room service knocked on the door at seven. The young man set the table with our dinner and left us. Thom chose a bottle of wine, bringing it to the table. He pulled a chair out, motioning for me to join hm. I lifted the lid to allow the smell to escape.

“I’m starving.” He smiled as I said the words.

“Me too, but this meal won’t satisfy
that
hunger. After we eat, we’re going to go out for a bit, even if we only make it to the bench down there on the water. I need to get you out of this room. I see that bed from the corner of my eye, and I want to take you back there.”

“Oh!” I exclaimed, happily.

We made it to the bench, sitting there for a while watching the moonlight glisten on the ripples in the water like a starlit sky. A container ship crawled past as we watched. Thom’s arm was around my shoulder, holding me close. We didn’t talk; we listened. There was music from somewhere nearby, the sound of the water from the wake of the ship lightly lapping against the seawall, and the talk and laughter of others.

“This has been amazing,” I said, turning to look at him.

“Oh, Lulu, we’ve just begun.”

Finally, we walked a ways, holding hands as we moved toward the hustle and bustle of River Street. There was a pub near our hotel and Thom asked if I wanted to go in. We took a seat at the bar, and I observed a young man in the corner, playing guitar. I didn’t know the tune, but it was nice. The crowd in the packed bar seemed to enjoy it.

“I’ll be right back,” Thom said after the singer had played another song.

Slipping off the barstool, I saw him walk up to the singer. Suddenly, the crowd seemed excited and I turned to look.

“Look who’s back!” the guy who was playing guitar yelled. Thom was standing there with him. Several people yelled his name. I wondered what in the heck was happening.

“Thanks y’all. Thanks for letting me share the mic this evening. I’ve had this song in my thoughts for a couple of weeks. It’s a soulful song that makes me think of a beautiful lady I met recently. Thanks for indulging me.”

He sat on the stool with the guitar the guy handed him and started strumming.

              There’s a face I see

              Looking back at me

              Her eyes are filled with passion

              My heart beats wild

              She looks away from me

              But she’s all I see

              I cry out her name with emotion

              She’s my wildest dream

              She’s a part of me

              That I can’t seem

              To push from my thoughts and mind

              She’s all I’ve ever wanted 

I watched as he sang. The tune seemed familiar but I couldn’t place it. It didn’t matter though, because all of a sudden, it was the greatest, most beautiful love song I’d ever heard. My heart felt like it would beat right out of my chest. He watched me as he sang. His gaze caused others to turn to see whom his eyes rested on. Thank goodness it was a small place, but the discomfort of being watched was replaced with a feeling that I couldn’t explain.

Finally, the song ended. He thanked the crowd and was stopped several times as he returned to my side. “You’ve got some explaining to do, Mr. Miller,” I teased.

“I will, but right now I just want to go back and hold you.”

“What? We’re in Savannah–no pralines?” I laughed.

“We’ll stop on the way.” He grabbed my hand to hurry us along.

We left the pub and stopped by The Candy Kitchen, just a few doors away. Thom picked up a two-pound box and took it to the register.

“I only needed one,” I laughed.

“You’ll want more though. I want to be prepared for whatever you want.”

“Oh!” seemed to jump from my lips. His grin told me that he liked surprising me.

We returned to the room and stripped down to crawl in bed. He brought me a praline.

“Sweets in bed?”

“Oh, how I know this is true,” he said, with the most beautiful smile.

“Thom, tell me about the singing. They knew you, didn’t they?” I was curious how.

“I come here a couple times a year. Some of them are regulars, they remember me.”

“From taking a turn at singing?” I inquired.

“No, Lulu. I used to be the front man, the lead singer for a band in the late eighties, Tainted Dreamers.”

“I’ve heard of them.” Slowly, the idea that I’d heard the song before returned. He watched as the realization hit me.

“We topped the charts with five singles. One day, I woke up and didn’t know where I was. Not because I was hung over or high, that’s not my thing. We’d been touring for so long that I didn’t even know what city we were in. It was that moment that I realized I hated the road. I hated it. I missed the feeling of being settled, the sense of home.”

“The guys and I talked. They understood my decision, but they didn’t want to lose me because I wrote the songs that took the band to number one. So, the Tainted Dreamers are now Hidden Dreams. I write songs for them, and I’m happy to collect the royalties for their hits, but I don’t miss any part of the rest.”

“I have to be honest,” I said. “I wondered where you’d come up with enough money to own a pub and a beautiful home, you’re still young.”

“I don’t feel so young,” he chuckled. “I also received an inheritance after my dad passed. When he died, he left everything to me. I’m not rich by today’s standards, but I am very comfortable. Kiawah makes me happy. Lulu?”

“Yes?” I answered, pulling him close to me.

“You. You make me happier than I’ve ever felt. I never met anyone who stirred so many emotions in me. I want to love you, Lulu.”

“Physically?” I asked.

He nodded, but added, “Heartfelt love. I want to love you, Lulu. I want to love you like I’ve never loved anyone. Before you ask, I’ve never been married, never even a long-term relationship, and I have no children.

“You owe me no explanations.”

“But I do, it’s part of you getting to know me.”

I didn’t quite know what to say. I thought a moment. “Well then, I’ve never been married and I have no kids, either.”

“You’re a delight, Lulu.”

His smile is so gorgeous.

“And I love that we can sit here having this conversation, eating pralines naked, and you’re comfortable with it.”

“I like being naked with you,” I said. I felt heat on my cheeks. “You still make me a little anxious–antsy.”

“Why?” he asked. He lay down beside me, his head resting on his hand.

“I guess because I feel like you’re older. It’s not the age,” I added quickly. “You’re just more experienced than I am. I told you, I’ve only had one guy in my life.”

“Tell me about him.”

“He is my past. He was a jerk, but I didn’t know any better at the time. He’s a hot-shot quarterback for the Minnesota Vikings now.”

“The one who’s constantly a headline for getting in some kind of trouble?” I nodded and then, as though something startled him, he quickly sat up. “The one that slaps his girlfriend around? You said he’d hurt you physically and mentally.”

“He never hit me, but I have no doubt after our last visit, that he could.” Suddenly, thinking of that last night brought tears to my eyes.

“Tell me, Lulu.” He moved closer and held me in his arms.

“It’s the past.”

“Tell me.” It wasn’t a demand; it was his way of telling me that he wasn’t going to stop until I did.

“He forced himself on me, that’s all.”

“That’s all? Did you tell anyone?”

“My dad when I got home, but I just wanted to get past it. He called a couple of times, but then the ego of his newfound success brought him other girls, and he quit. We went to junior high school together and my first encounter with him should have been a clue, but he was sweet for a while. We dated all through high school. I think because it was comfortable to be with someone. He got a full ride to the University of Miami, and I went down for the first home game. He started drinking and got rough. It’s the past.”

I could tell that what I’d just shared with him made him angry.

“Thom, let’s get back on track, us, not the past.” I scooted closer to him and we slid down in the bed together. He wrapped me in his arms, cradling me as he’d done the first night we slept naked.

“I’ll never let you down, Lulu.”

The next day, we rode around Savannah in the Shelby with the windows open, touring. We stopped a couple of times to get out so he could share something he wanted me to see. I’d discovered that he loved history, and that I loved that he wanted to share that with me. I talked about books. In Charleston, I told him the story of
Porgy and Bess
. That day, I shared
Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil
.

“I love the history of these old seaside towns. Look over here.” We drove into a cemetery and parked. As though he knew exactly where he was, he took my hand and led me to a headstone.

“Johnny Mercer was a composer who hailed from Savannah. His songs are classics that you still hear today.”

He began to sing.

You must have been a beautiful baby

You must have been a wonderful child…

There was another group of people close by who joined in. I laughed because they were singing at the top of their lungs, loud and proud. When they finished, I applauded them.

“He’s a big deal around here,” an older black gentleman said.

“When I’m in town, I always stop by and pay my respects,” Thom said, shaking the older man’s hand. 

The older man started to sing and Thom joined him. The group that was with him moved close to me. I gathered that they were his family. We watched the two of them belt out a song, as though they’d been performing together on stage for years. Thom’s arm was around the older man’s shoulder.

Two of a kind

For your information

We’re two of a kind

Two of a kind

It’s my observation

We’re two of a kind

Like peas in a pod

And birds of a feather

Alone or together you’ll find

That we are twoooooooooo of a kind…

When they finished, the older man’s face beamed with happiness. He gave Thom a hug, excitedly thumping his back.

“Dad, that was awesome!” the woman in the group exclaimed. She was beaming with pride as she watched his pleasure at the little concert.

“It was fun! Daniel Meers,” he said extending his hand to Thom. “I used to play saxophone for the Tom Dees Big Band Sound. We were blessed to play for Johnny a time or two.”

“Thom Miller,” he said introducing himself.

“Thom Miller?” The older man thought for a moment. “Thom Miller, Jr.?”

“Yes sir.”

“I knew your father. We played together before. What was the name of the theatre we played together?” He tried to remember. He looked at the woman beside me. “This is my daughter, Andreta. Where was that?”

“It was Boston, Dad,” she replied with a smile.

“Fourth of July, 1976. How on earth did I forget that?” he asked.

“I was there with my dad. I was twelve,” Thom said, with a smile.

“Your dad?” the older man inquired.

“He passed in 1997.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“Mr. Meers, it was a pleasure to meet you. Maybe we’ll meet here again some day and share another song.”

I looked at the companions of Mr. Meers; they were all smiling. The one he referred to as Andreta had tears in her eyes. I saw her look at Thom and mouth the words, ‘thank you.’