After work the next day I came home to another Will note:
DEAR SLUMLORD,
JACKSON HAS BEEN WALKED AND FED.
I crumbled the note and grabbed Jackson’s leash to take him to the groomers. I decided to have him shaved that day. Shaving a yellow lab is not standard practice but it was hot and Jackson’s fur was all over the apartment. Anyway, he seemed like a happier guy after the shave, even if he looked a little weird. We left the groomers and headed to Tompkins Square Park for a nap on the grassy knoll overlooking the playground. I spotted a few café regulars and hippies from days past lying around on the tiny hill. I leaned back until I was flat in the grass and Jackson curled up and rested his head across my stomach. I closed my eyes to consume the ambient noise of the park that day. I heard the faint song of a harmonica and guitar and thought of Will. There were sweet sounds of children’s voices echoing in the distance, and I thought of Will. I dozed off, thinking of Will.
I only remember the last five seconds of my dream, which included Will’s hands on me. I felt the exquisite pulsing between my legs and sighed, which startled me awake. The feeling below, although out of my control, stopped abruptly. I was disappointed but relieved when I realized I was still in the park. Jackson was nestled beside me, sound asleep. Even though no one was close by, I could still feel my face flush as I thought about the dream. I wanted to remember more, but I couldn’t. It was dusk and eerie in the park. There were fewer people around, so I decided to head home.
As soon as I cracked the door, Jackson went barreling past me and right to Will, who had gotten down on his knees to greet him. “Hey, buddy, what happened to your fur? What did this evil woman do to you?” He continued petting and talking to Jackson. There were a few moments of silence before he looked up and said, “Hey.” He wore a small, sad smile. He was listening to God, but it looked like he didn’t like what he was hearing.
“Hi,” I said softly.
He got up and grabbed his guitar, calling back, “See ya,” as he walked out the door.
That night Jackson had another episode. It was getting to the point where I didn’t even try to move him. By morning he was fine and I couldn’t figure it out. At the café I did some internet research. It seemed like Jackson was having little strokes or quiet seizures. Either way, they were getting worse and I knew I would have to take him to the vet soon. I ordered some chicken from Sam’s to take to Jackson for lunch. While I was waiting for Denise to bring out my order, I heard Will playing “Pictures of You.” I loved the long guitar intro and even though the sound was muffled coming through the ceiling, I could tell Will was playing it perfectly. I grabbed the chicken and ran up to my apartment, hoping to catch some of the song. When I walked in and the sound registered, I stood there with my jaw on the floor. Will’s back was to me and he was singing in a perfect, melodic, and soulful voice. I knew Will wasn’t tone deaf; I had heard him sing a little before, but this wasn’t an impression of the vocals from the original song, it was Will’s amazing voice. He sang the next part with a vulnerable fervor that was so sexy my legs were trembling.
Screamed at the make believe
Screamed at the sky
And you finally found all your courage to let it all go
I lost it and stalked over to stand in front of him. He immediately stopped playing. I pointed and shouted in the most accusatory voice I could muster, “You can sing! Will Ryan, you can sing! What the hell?” It wasn’t really a question. Why was he screwing around with that lame band? Why was he keeping his amazing talent from everyone? My inner thoughts were spilling out. I kept flailing the bag of chicken around. “The universe needs you, Will!” I said desperately.
He quickly unplugged his guitar. “I’m still trying to figure it all out. Please just let this go.” He never made eye contact with me as he hurriedly threw his guitar in the case, grabbed his keys, and went to the door. He turned toward me with a wounded expression before looking down and muttering, “I’m not sure about anything.” When he looked up, his eyes kissed mine. “You get that, right?”
Of course I got it.
Back at Kell’s, Jenny was looking through bridal magazines… again. “What do you think about this kind of arrangement for the head table?”
“It gorgeous,” I said unenthusiastically.
“What’s wrong, girl?”
My mind was going a million miles an hour. “Did you know Will before? He said Tyler was his best friend.”
She chuckled. “No, Mia. I swear it’s a total coincidence. Last year Will and Tyler met each other in a web design class at East Village Community College. Will ran into Tyler at the café one day and we put it all together. They’ve been hanging out a lot lately. I guess Tyler is helping Will do a website for some project.” She paused and then said, “Oh, I wanted to let you know we asked Will to play a few acoustic songs at the wedding.”
Will took a computer class?
“I think that’s great, he’s a very talented musician.” I paused. “Hey, did you know Will can sing, too? I mean, like really well?”
“Yeah, Tyler mentioned something about that. I guess The Ivans broke up and Will has been doing solo gigs at little dive bars and cafés.”
“What? Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
“Well you don’t exactly act like you like Will.”
“Why, because I didn’t sleep with him?”
“No. That’s not why. Honestly, Mia, you kind of act like Will’s a loser. He told Tyler that he stays away from the apartment at night because he feels like he’s getting in your way when Robert’s over. He cares about you, Mia. He’s a good roommate and a good friend. None of us can understand why you’re so resistant toward him.”
“Well, he’s been leaving me rude notes and the other day he called me evil. And… and he… he… he brings women over!” I exclaimed.
“You made it pretty clear that he’s not your type. He’s a man; do you expect him not to date? Anyway, he said you got all bent over the fact that he brought a friend over. I’m sorry, I love you girl, but I think it’s a little unfair the way you treat him.” Jenny’s words ruined me because they were true. I tried hopelessly to explain myself.
“Will has a lot of good qualities, Jenny. I hope he and I can remain friends. I want desperately to get along with him, but I’m not a fan of the whole starving-artist thing. The musician who has casual sex with all types of women, it just seems trite. I admire a man who has hopes and dreams for his future.”
“Every man has hopes and dreams for his future, Will is no exception. You know so little about him and you’ve already concluded that he’s worthless because he plays a guitar. That seems so hypocritical of you. What comes to mind when I think of trite is the girl who spends one vapid evening after another eating expensive meals and talking about money with her rich, investment-banker boyfriend.”
“Why are you trying to hurt me, Jenny?”
“I’m trying to help you. I see you meandering aimlessly through your life.” She brought me into her arms for long hug. “Every time I look at you, I see the pain from losing Pops. I know you’re still grieving. I know Will reminds you of him, but I don’t know why that scares you.” I began sobbing in her arms. I needed to cry. “You’ll figure it out, Mia, and I’ll be here for you. I think maybe you still have more to learn about Pops and yourself.” She paused, then whispered, “And Will.”
Jenny’s decisions about marriage, friends, and career always seemed so rash to me, yet she was sure of everything. Every word she said was the truth. I would discover more. Once I collected myself, I took a seat at the bar and faced the window. Martha came over and brought me some tea. She had been in the kitchen, so I knew she’d heard my conversation with Jenny. “Thanks, Martha.”
“Hi, Mia Pia.” She took a seat next to me and held my hand as we stared out the window.
“I’m so confused.”
“You’re twenty-five and you just lost your father, it comes with the territory,” she said
gently.
“Being here and living his life, it’s so dramatically different than my life in Ann Arbor. My father made decisions with his heart and my mom makes them with her mind and I can’t help but feel like I’m more like my mom, or I should be.”
She paused and looked straight ahead before speaking.
“You have to teach your heart and mind how to sing together… then you’ll hear the sound of your soul.”
It took me thirty seconds to process that single sentence, but once it sank in, I almost fell off my chair. I always appreciated Martha’s warmth, but I used to think her comments were esoteric crap. As I got older, I started finding profound meaning in what she had to say. Martha continued staring out the window. When I saw a little smile play on her lips I followed her gaze to see Will, who was standing across the street. He was in front of “Trax,” a store that sold rare vinyl and music memorabilia. He was wearing black jeans, his usual belt and wallet chain, and a plain white T-shirt. He was looking down with his hands in his pockets, talking shyly to a woman who looked to be in her early thirties. She had short black hair and a hip outfit and from what I could tell, she was pretty. She handed Will a piece of paper and then shook his hand; he pulled her in for a swift hug. When she walked away, he looked at the paper, then turned on his heel and trotted away exuberantly. I rolled my eyes.
Track 7: What Would J.C. Do?
The next week consisted mostly of me moping around my apartment alone. I wore the same outfit for four days straight. Everyone at Kell’s gave me pitying looks, but other than work-related topics, no one uttered a word to me. I was starting to feel like I lived alone—Will was home for all of five minutes that week and Jackson was becoming more and more sluggish. The engagement party was coming up that Saturday and since my standing dates with Robert were on Saturdays, I figured why not take him. It was time to introduce him to my pseudo-family. I planned to work and sleep until then, but Jenny wouldn’t have it. She insisted that I go to poetry night, saying that the grand finale was going to be Will playing a few songs. How could I resist?
That night the usual poetry party showed up. When Will and Tyler walked in together, Tyler came straight to where Jenny and I were behind the counter. Will immediately took a seat without acknowledging me. Halfway through the readings, a group of college girls walked in and sat down. They were giggling and eyeing him. Then the dark-haired woman I’d seen him with in front of Trax came in. She sat at the window bar and turned her stool to face the tiny, makeshift stage where a ninety-year-old man was doing a slam about waffles. When Will spotted her, he shot her the peace sign and turned back toward the stage. I didn’t know what to make of it, but she was obviously there to see Will, as was the table of giggling girls.
When it was time for Will to go on, Tyler helped him bring his amp and guitar in to set up. I had butterflies in my stomach. I could barely contain my excitement about hearing Will sing, but I was still a tad bitter that he hadn’t spoken to me. He seemed nervous as he adjusted the microphone.
One of the groupie girls moved her chair in for a closer look, inadvertently tugging on Will’s guitar cord in the process. “Hey, don’t do that!” The girl looked shocked and embarrassed. When Will noticed, he softened his expression. “Just give me some space, okay, baby?” he said to her with his sexiest smile. She nodded sheepishly.
After he finished tuning his guitar, he leaned into the microphone and spoke hesitantly. “This is a song for my friend.” He looked right at me… and then I fucked up again.
“Play Ziggy Stardust!” I blurted out.
Looking shattered, he narrowed his eyes at me and shook his head, then quickly changed his tuning. I knew he had decided on a different song and I wondered for a second if he was going to play my request.
“This is a song for my friend, who doesn’t know what she wants,” he mumbled and then barreled into “Yellow Ledbetter.” I have to admit, Will choosing an Eddie Veddar Pearl Jam song was very apropos. Will was the rock-and-roll type I’d swooned over my entire life and I still wouldn’t give him the time of day. He knew me better than I knew myself. Will left the lyrics out; instead, he played a fifteen-minute instrumental version with his eyes closed. He was aggressive, but he played flawlessly. I was completely and utterly mesmerized watching him. Toward the end of the song he teased the audience with just one word, a pitch-perfect, lingering “oh” before the final guitar riff. He unplugged and gathered his things. People clapped but seemed dumbfounded that Will hadn’t sung and yet he was packing up to leave. The shorthaired girl wrote something in a notebook before she scooted out the door, never looking back. I spotted Jenny, who was shooting daggers at me.
“Why would you ask Will to play a song about an egomaniac guitarist who breaks up his band?”
An ashamed giggle escaped my mouth. “I didn’t think anyone would get it.”
Tyler walked up behind Jenny and put his arm around her. “Will and I are going to get a bite.” Will was already standing out on the street; I could see him cursing himself and acting like lunatic.
“Will you tell him I’m sorry?”
Tyler looked at me speculatively. “There was a record exec here to see Will sing. You know he’s been playing around town right?”
“God, I feel terrible.” And I meant it. I hadn’t realized. I thought it was just another girl there to swoon over him.
“It’s not all your fault, Mia. Will needs to have a thicker skin and get used to the fact that people are going to say things. He was doing really well, playing at little dives, and then when word got around that Will Ryan was something to see, he started booking shows under different names. There was The Wilburs, then Idio-Secret Agent Man, and then the last one was The Asshats. Every time he would gain a little following, he would change the name. He has a lot going on and he’s trying to figure things out. I know he really takes what you say to heart. He thinks you’re a brilliant musician.”
“Really?” I sighed. “I feel terrible—please tell him I’m sorry.” I walked away with a lump in my throat the size of a bus. I couldn’t look at Tyler and Jenny’s faces anymore. I hid in the back until everyone was gone and then I locked up and went home to bed.
A peace offering was needed, so the next day I bought Will a digital four-track recorder and left it on his bed with a note.
Will, I’m sorry about how I have behaved toward you lately. You are one of the most talented people I know and I won’t get in the way of that again. I care about you and I want us to be friends. Please accept this gift so you can continue making that beautiful music and know that this is your home too. I promise to respect that.
Later that day, Will and I ran into each other on the street. He had a carefree look about him. “Hey, Roomy! Thanks for the four-track and your sweet note, it means a lot.” He gave me a big bear hug. “I want to jam with you soon. I have some ideas for a couple of songs.”
“I would love that, Will.” I felt unreasonably happy. I was relieved almost to the point of tears that he was back to himself.
“I have to work tonight, but I’ll see you at the party tomorrow.” He gave me another hug.
“Okay, I’ll see you.” When he walked away I heard him call to Sheil, who he spotted standing farther down the street. I looked back; Sheil was dressed in a beautiful orange, red, and black sari. She was a stunning, exotic beauty. Will ran toward her to catch up. I had introduced Will to Sheil one day in the café but they seemed more familiar as he jogged toward her. It gave me an uneasy feeling.
Jenny and I spent the entire day Saturday making food and decorating Kell’s for her engagement party. We hung Chinese lanterns and twinkle lights everywhere. We closed the café to the public and went back to my apartment to get ready. I decided to live on the edge and wear a super short, all-black shift. Jenny looked angelic in a knee-length, flowing white dress. Robert met us at the apartment. He wore the typical “I’m a banker” suit. He eyed my dress dismissively.
“Do you like?”
“Yeah,” he said. “It’s interesting.”
“Okay, then. Let’s head over.”`
We walked over to Kell’s. Martha was there along with Seth, our friend from the poetry group who was going to deejay the party. We put some last-minute touches on the food and decorations before guests started arriving. I introduced Robert to everyone, but at times he seemed disinterested or preoccupied with his phone. Seth played wonderful big-band music while the champagne flowed. When Will arrived, I saw him shake Robert’s hand and then he hugged Jenny and Tyler before making his way toward me.
“Hey, you look hot,” he said as he hugged me around my shoulders.
He was wearing black pin-striped suit pants with his belt and wallet chain and a black, short-sleeved dress shirt. Black on black and smelled divine. I inhaled deeply as he hugged me.
“So do you.” I laughed shyly. “I mean you look handsome.”
He took a step back and drank me in. His hand went to the hem of my dress and I flinched as he grabbed the fabric between his fingers and tugged. “I like this.” He winked and shot me a sexy smile. I laughed and shook my head. Some things never change… who would want them to?
I saw Robert observing our exchange. I elbowed Will and winked back at him and then walked over to stand by Robert. We continued to mingle and I noticed Jenny and Tyler were happier than I had ever seen them, which made me feel more carefree than I had been in a long time. I noticed that Will chatted with Sheil for what seemed like an hour and it made me wonder, but I figured Will could talk to anyone about music for hours on end and Sheil would be a great sounding board for that. When the party was well on its way, Will stood on a chair to get everyone’s attention. I scooted over so that I was standing right below him.
Sweet Thing Page 9
