by Kylie Parker
“That sounds amazing!” Helen cheered, her eyes open wide.
“Okay, don’t get carried away, honey.” Michelle smiled. “It will only be for a month. You’ll still have to go back to Shandaken, when it’s over.”
“Who cares?” Helen spoke, her voice high-pitched as she leaned over her. “I mean, a whole month away from the mountain?”
“It gets better.” Michelle winked at her. “Most of my gigs are in L.A. and San Francisco.”
At that moment, the distant sound of applause drew their attention. Within seconds, it became louder, as James and Olivia entered the front yard, smiling and holding hands, as they waved at the people. Rick was right behind them; the sight of him was enough to wipe the smile off of Helen’s face.
“Oh, God…” She let out a desperate sigh, hitting her forehead with the palm of her hand. “I’d almost forgotten he was here.”
“Helen, what are you talking about?” Michelle raised her tone. “He was right there on the beach. We even took pictures with him.”
“I’ve been trying to ignore him,” Helen stated. “I’m not talking to him.”
“Why?” Michelle shrugged.
“Because!” Helen’s loud voice turned quite a few heads.
“Okay, this is awkward,” and Michelle hummed, looking up at the gazebo roof, as she scratched her chin.
“Um, Michelle,” Helen whispered, leaning over to her. “He keeps making inappropriate comments about my ass.”
Gina bit her lower lip, in a clear attempt not to laugh, but Michelle could not stop the fit of laughter that Helen’s words started in her. She burst out giggling, putting her fingers over her mouth as she leaned forward.
“Michelle!” Helen spoke through clenched teeth. “It’s not funny!”
“Actually, it is,” Gina interjected, a smile of embarrassment on her face as she dropped her eyes from Helen.
“Oh, my God,” Michelle chuckled. “That’s why you won’t talk to the guy?”
“Isn’t it enough?” Helen answered her question with a question. “I mean, he always calls me ‘sweet ass chic’, for crying out loud.”
“I’m going to show you my twitter account someday,” Michelle said, nodding at the same time. “Trust me: you’re going to find a hell of a lot worse crap than ‘sweet ass chic’ in there. Besides, he’s cute.”
Helen was about to speak once more, but then, a large shadow on the ground caught her gaze. It belonged to the same man she had spotted earlier. He wasn’t wearing his jacket anymore. Instead, he wore a black, sleeveless tee. The bronze skin of his long, muscular arms glistened in the moonlight, as he made his way towards the hotel lobby.
“Not cuter than that,” Helen remarked, her voice low.
“That’s not cute, mountain girl,” Michelle disagreed. “That’s hot. Is that ink I see on his shoulder?”
“Yep,” Helen said with a nod. “I can’t tell what it is, though. Do you know him?”
“I’ve never seen him before,” Michelle replied. “From behind he looks like a badass version of James.”
“Okay, I have to ask,” Helen said, as her lips curled into a sly smile. “How come you and James never got together?”
“Good question,” Michelle said with a grin, averting her gaze from the stranger. “I like James. He’s one big, handsome son of a bitch. It did cross my mind to ask him out, but, I don’t know, something didn’t feel right. Maybe we’re a little too alike. He can be pretty arrogant sometimes, loud, and everything. I can be the same. But mainly, I think it’s because of an incident, while we were recording Olivia’s song.”
“What incident?” Helen inquired.
“Well…” Michelle sucked in a deep breath. “James used to stay longer at the studio; he wanted to practice more on the piano. One night, I forgot my car keys. I went back upstairs, looking for them. I thought I’d hear him play the piano, but he wasn’t. He was playing the guitar, singing all by himself. I pushed the studio door open. It was quite squeaky; I thought he’d hear me and he’d stop, but no. He just kept playing, staring down at something. I got curious. I looked over at him. He had put Olivia’s picture on a stool and he was singing to it.”
“Talk about love.” Helen whispered, staring into the void.
“Exactly,” Michelle agreed. “He was clearly not over her, not to mention that if we dated, it would complicate things between us. Can you imagine what would happen if we didn’t work out?”
“He’d ditch you in a heartbeat.” Helen let out a short laugh, watching as Olivia approached their table. “There she is: the lady of the hour.”
“It’s Mrs. Grumpy, ladies and gentlemen,” Michelle joked. “Where’s Mr. Grumpy?”
“I am.” Olivia admitted, smiling down at her, as she pulled a chair towards her. “He’ll be joining us in a second. He’s catching up with an old friend.”
“The biker!” Helen’s eyes sparkled with excitement.
“Yeah, that…” Olivia cringed, “Hairy guy.”
“I forgot she liked them smooth.” Michelle muttered under her breath.
“I heard that.” Olivia said with a hint of annoyance in her voice. “Why are you asking?”
“Just curious,” Helen shrugged.
“James was really surprised to see him,” Olivia added. “He said he hadn’t seen him in twelve years.”
“I’m confused.” Helen spoke in frustrated tones. “They’ve known each other for so long and James didn’t even invite him?”
“I’m a little too happy to care, my dear.” Olivia faked a British accent. “Tonight’s my wedding night. And I…” She paused and leaned towards Michelle and Helen, “…want to enjoy it.”
“Well, well, well…” Rick interjected, a silly smile on his face, as he sauntered towards the chair beside Gina. “This table shouldn’t be called ‘bridal’. It should be called ‘the table of cute asses’.”
“Oh, boy…” A huff of exasperation left Helen, as Michelle and Olivia glanced at each other.
“And what a fine specimen we have here,” he continued, seating himself next to Gina, “a tall redhead. A little thin for my taste, but still, a great piece of…”
“Don’t say it,” Gina grumbled, turning her head to the left to face him.
“Damn it, Rick!” Helen cried, slamming her hand onto the table as she glared at him. “Stop talking about asses!”
This time, her loud voice grabbed the attention of most of the guests. Helen could feel many pairs of eyes on her, as Michelle and Olivia burst into sweet, hearty laughter. In a split second, the yard was filled with more and more laughing sounds, adding to her immense embarrassment.
“No…” she whispered, lifting her hands to her face. Helen closed her eyes and covered them, bending down towards the table. “Kill me. Kill me now.” She said, hitting her head on the surface.
“Rick, I know you’re James’s best man, but, if you don’t do as Helen said, I’m going to give you something else to talk about,” Gina stated, her voice calm as she intensified her stare.
“What would that be, sugar?” He smirked.
“Crushed nuts,” she growled. Olivia found that so funny that she laughed even harder, burying her head against Michelle’s shoulder.
“I’ve found her.” Rick’s eyes glinted with amusement, as he pointed at her. “I’ve found a woman grumpier than James! I’ve found her!”
“Don’t point your finger at me!” Gina raised her tone, snatching his finger out of the air.
“Girls, I need to borrow your friend here.” Rick assumed a more serious voice. “Excuse us.”
“Helen.” Michelle gently squeezed her on the shoulder. “One o’clock. The biker’s leaving.”
Her words acted like a wakeup call. Helen opened her eyes and forced her gaze up.
“What do you think I should do?” She asked.
“Go talk to him.” Michelle encouraged.
“I thought you liked him, too.” Helen spoke, confusion written all over her face.
“Please, darling.” Michelle snorted. “There are thirty reporters in here, plus, the place is packed with ‘Platinum Media’ executives. Imagine the headline, if I go after him. ‘Former twerking queen loves bikers. Read all about it on page three.’ Just go, will you?”
“Thanks.” Helen said, rising from her seat. By the time she moved around the table though, the stranger was already at the gate. She was unwilling to draw any unwanted attention upon herself; so she maintained a slow pace, with her gaze fixed on the road up ahead.
“Alright, Mr. Biker. Who are you? Where do you know James and why in the world are you leaving so soon? I mean, you just got here. What’s your rush?”
The distinctive sound of thunder-headers rocked the beachside resort, as the motorcycle roared into life. Helen quickly climbed down the stairs, her pulse rising by the second. The ground vibrated under her feet, as he turned on the throttle. His crooked smile reappeared, as their gazes met.
“Hi…” She waved, hesitantly. “My name’s Helen. Helen Weir.”
“Hey, Helen Weir,” He gave an amused nod, his voice rich and deep. “I’m Marcus.”
“Marcus what?” Her next question did not find an answer. Marcus turned his gaze downward, as she took another step towards him. “Why won’t you stay a little longer?”
“Look, I have a plane to catch.” He spoke in a much louder tone. “I’ll be seeing you.”
Marcus kicked the powerful motorcycle into gear, before rolling on the throttle once again. The Harley bucked and leapt forward, the deafening racket reverberating through her skull, as he rode off. The echo of the thunder-headers was still lingering in the air, when Helen heard Michelle’s smoky voice.
“That couldn’t have gone well,” She remarked.
“This is James all over again.” Helen spoke, a touch of sadness in her fruity voice.
“No, it’s not.” Michelle disagreed. “Not unless you have a crush on this guy, which I seriously doubt. Did you even get his name?”
“Don’t be silly,” Helen smiled. “I just liked his looks. His name’s Marcus. He wouldn’t give me his last name.”
“James just joined us,” Michelle informed. “He wouldn’t even say that. He just said what we already knew: That the two of them had known each other for a long time. Come on. Let’s go back to the party.”
“Why is there all this secrecy?” Frustration was lingering in Helen’s voice. “Why…”
“This is our friends’ wedding” Michelle interrupted, her tone stiff. “Do you really want to start asking James questions about that guy? You know him a lot better than I do. Sooner or later, he’ll snap.”
“You’re right.” Helen nodded. “Mr. Grumpy will yell at me.”
“Yeah, he will.” Michelle laughed, offering her hand. “Let’s go.”
Without much thought, Helen took her Michelle’s hand with her own. The two friends climbed up the stairs, as James and Olivia stepped onto the empty dance floor. The band started playing Berlin’s “Take my breath away”, as they returned to their table. The image of the happy couple’s dance painted a smile on Helen’s face, as her mind drifted back to the night of their reunion.
What a night: loads of music, emotion, a huge hug and a long, sweet kiss. I’m happy for you two. You’re made for each other. Olivia, you’re the only one who can tame that brute. In a way, I’m relieved I’m not with him. James, you’re lucky to have her. Hold on to her. I just hope I can find something like this…
Chapter Three
Helen, Michelle and James embarked on one of the most important trips of their lives. James seemed to be the least affected of them all. For some reason neither of them could understand, James was very cool about it. On the other hand, Michelle was very anxious. She kept asking him questions about their venues, almost all the way through the flight. In her opinion, even the tiniest detail mattered, such as the seating arrangements. Helen remained silent and preferred to watch their conversations. After all, she had no idea about anything they were discussing and it was none of her business. Furthermore, although she did understand Michelle’s insecurity, she thought she was being nonsensical. Helen had every faith in her vocal skills; she had a good feeling about her concerts. If she did try to confront her, they very well could argue over nothing and humiliate each other on a plane full of people. Helen would not do that to the woman who had just given her a chance to escape her everyday routine.
It’s amazing how stress can consume people like that. Look at her. ‘Why this, why that’… I’m surprised she hasn’t asked if there are any outdoor bathrooms in those venues. Don’t worry, Michelle. You’ll dazzle them, just like you dazzled everybody, back in Williamsburg.
As soon as their plane landed, Michelle proved to them once more how tense she was. Despite the fact that they had just been through a six-hour flight, she stated her will to visit the first venue. Upon hearing her idea, James burst out laughing and with good reason. Michelle was scheduled to perform at “Rockstars”, an outdoor arena in Santa Barbara, almost a hundred miles away and it was 9pm already. Much to his frustration, though, she insisted. Unwilling to follow her, James notified John Donaldson, the venue manager on Michelle’s decision and went to their hotel. She asked him for directions on how to get there and also requested him to be there. Much to her liking, he was polite and agreed. Helen believed that her friend was being absurd, but she would not leave her alone. So, the two women rented a car and started towards Santa Barbara, on that warm, late-July night.
Almost two hours later, they found themselves on a narrow, uphill road outside the city. The venue seemed small on the outside, as their car slowly rolled to a halt. John Donaldson, the aging venue manager was at the gate, with a sullen look on his face.
“Good evening, ladies.” He said, his voice firm, as they approached him. “Ms. Adams, I would really like to know what’s going on in that head of yours.”
“Excuse me?” Michelle squeaked.
“It’s rather late for me to be here,” Donaldson explained. “Anyway, follow me.”
Michelle let out an exasperated huff, as Donaldson walked through the gate. Beams of light were coming through the door, as they climbed up the dark stairs. The venue manager stepped outside and went to the right.
“Two thousand seats: about five hundred more on that stand over there;” he informed her, pointing to the left, as Michelle swept the well-lit arena. There were massive lights in each corner. Behind the seats, there was an amphitheatrical, spectator stand. “It’s not much, I know.”
“I wasn’t expecting the Rose Bowl.” Michelle said, with a smile of embarrassment on her face. “I’m so sorry to drag you out here so late. I was just too nervous about it, you know?”
“Ah, it’s ok.” Donaldson waved an understanding hand in front of his face. At that very moment, the ground began to vibrate beneath their feet. In a matter of seconds, the deafening sound of thunder-headers ripped through the air, shattering the silence around them.
“Michelle?” Helen’s voice was filled with curiosity. “Doesn’t that sound a little familiar?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Michelle scoffed, looking at her over her left shoulder. “Besides, all Harleys sound the same.”
Disregarding her friend’s reaction, Helen listened intently, expecting the motorcycle to speed past the arena. She didn’t appreciate Michelle’s tone, but, deep down, she knew that she had a point. Still, the Harley did no such thing. The noise of the exhaust pipes became even louder, as it gradually slowed down. Eventually, it stopped outside the gate. The powerful engine revved, as the biker turned on the throttle.
“It’s him!” Helen whispered to herself, her eyes wide open. Without much thought, she turned her body right. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she rushed down the stairs. Stopping at the bottom landing, she leaned forward and snuck a peek outside. It was Marcus. His motorcycle shone under the light of the tall lamppost hanging over it, as he pulled his helmet up and over his head.
“Marcus?” She cried, locking her eyes on his face as she exited the building.
“Helen Weir.” Marcus’s sexy smile reappeared, as he shifted his gaze to her. “Small world.”
“How…”
“Hop on.” He urged, waving her to the seat of his Harley. “Let’s go for a ride.”
“Could you wait here?” Helen requested, struggling to believe that their meeting was a mere coincidence. “I need to talk to my friend first.”
“We’ll be back in no time.” Marcus maintained. “Come on.”
Simply nodding to him, Helen started towards the motorcycle. She placed her right foot on the foot peg and swung her leg over the saddle and put her hands on the holds under the seat. The deep rumble of the thunder-headers shook through her bones, as Marcus turned on the throttle. Before she knew it, her hair was whipping against her face, as the Harley tore through the asphalt. They were not going fast, but still, this unprecedented experience gave her a unique sense of freedom. Helen closed her eyes, feeling the air blowing right into her face, as the powerful motorcycle climbed the hill.
Quickly, she realized that Marcus had been honest with her. Indeed, their destination was less than a mile away from the venue. He slowed down first and then turned left, onto a wide ledge. Her jaw dropped, as she noticed the thousands of city lights. The entire coastline of Santa Barbara lay before her. As much as she liked the breathtaking view however, the growing number of questions in her mind did not allow her to savor it.
“Now would be a good time to start talking,” Helen said, a hint of sarcasm in her voice, as Marcus dismounted his motorcycle.
“Okay, you got me.” He admitted, slipping his hands into his pockets as he turned around to face her. “I spoke to James on the phone earlier. He told me you were coming.”
“You live here?” She asked.
“I live in L.A.” Marcus responded. “Hop off. The view’s great from up here.”
