Sheet Music - A Rock 'n' Roll Love Story

by Ann Lister

  “I’m sorry I raised my voice back there,” he said.

  Annie sniffed quietly.

  “Are you still upset?” he asked, tenderly stroking her cheek.

  She shook her head. “I’ll get over it.”

  He kissed her hand. “You do know how much I love you right?”

  “Yes, and I love you too.”

  “Then let’s go inside and finish making-up,” he teased, his face relaxing into a perfect smile.

  She burst out laughing. “You know, you are positively wicked, Mr. Wade.”

  He stepped out of the jeep and slammed the door. “Mrs. Wade, I’ve been called much worse.”

  After making love to Annie, Michael remembered a long-standing invitation he had for an annual celebrity charity event that Carly Simon held every summer at her Vineyard estate. She hosted the party on the same weekend every year and invited dozens of the Vineyard’s most infamous residents. It was to benefit a camp for kids with cancer and the event raised hundreds of thousands of dollars for the cause each and every year. Although he had never attended the event, he always sent along a large donation. This might be the perfect event to expose Annie to the limelight, he thought, rolling over to face her.

  “Which night are you playing out next weekend?” he asked nuzzling contentedly against her back.

  “Friday night, why?”

  “How would you like to go to a charity event on Saturday night hosted by Carly Simon?” he asked with a seductive smile.

  Annie studied his face for a few minutes, trying to judge whether or not he was teasing her. “You actually know Carly Simon?”

  “Afraid so. Carly and I go way back to when she was still married to James Taylor.”

  “You’re kidding?”

  “No. I’m not. Every time Beth and I were in New York we always made a stop at their place to party with them. Sometimes we’d go out clubbing or just hang out at their apartment.”

  “Wow.”

  “She does this annual charity event to help kids with cancer. I’ve never been, but we could go to this one together, if you want.”

  Annie sighed with reluctance and scrunched her face.

  “They’d be lots of stars and photographers too. It might be the perfect time for us to be seen together.”

  “I thought you hated crowds like that?”

  He laughed. “Well, it’s not my favorite way to spend a Saturday night, but I’ll know most of the people. It might be fun to see them on the island for a change instead of at an awards ceremony. Plus, I haven’t seen Carly in years.”

  “You don’t think I’d be too out of place?” she asked, cuddling up against his chest.

  “No more than I will be,” he replied, stifling a snicker.

  Annie went into town the next day and bought a body-fitting silver dress with spaghetti straps and scoop neck collar. It hung half way down her thigh and sparkled when the light hit it. Against her dark skin, the dress positively made her glow. When she got back to the beach house, she tried it on for Michael’s approval.

  “The invitation says, dressy casual, right?” she asked, shimmying into the garment.

  “I believe it did,” he sighed, taking in her beautiful curves. “You look amazing,” he added, shaking his head, as if he was at a loss for words.

  A few days later she firmly attached herself to Michael’s arm as they entered the ballroom-sized yard tent that had been set up in the backyard of Carly Simon’s Vineyard estate. White-gloved waiters greeted them at the door and offered them drinks. Michael politely waved them off.

  Annie’s eyes quickly scanned the crowded makeshift room. The tent was so meticulously decorated, once inside, you’d never know you were beneath fabric. A small jazz band played at one end, and two bars anchored the sides. Cocktail tables were scattered about with twinkling votive candles and potted trees lined the perimeter with miniature white lights which cast a romantic luminance over the entire enclosed pavilion.

  Annie stood in awe of it, unable to move forward. Then, one by one, she slowly began to recognize the attendees. Everyone from Walter Cronkite to Michael J. Fox filled the room.

  Suddenly Michael heard Carly call out his name.

  “I knew if I kept sending you the invitations, you might eventually manage to fit my party into your busy schedule,” Carly Simon said, while kissing Michael on the lips, making a loud smacking sound when she did. Then she wiped the evidence of her lipstick off his lips with her thumb.

  “Hey Carly, it’s great to see you again,” Michael smiled, as he loosely embraced her.

  “And I see you brought someone with you, too,” she replied, reaching out to shake Annie’s hand.

  “Yes, this is my wife, Annie Logan.”

  “Hi, I’m Carly Simon,” she stated, as if Annie might not know who she was. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

  “She’s a stunner, Michael,” Carly said, her eyes darting back to him. “I can see we have a lot of catching up to do. I hope you’ll stay for the evening so we can do just that.”

  “Of course,” Michael answered with a generous smile.

  “Great. Make yourself at home and mingle,” she instructed, drifting off to her arriving guests. “And for God sakes, eat something!”

  “Billy! I’m so glad you could make it this year,” Carly welcomed.

  Annie glanced over her shoulder in time to see Carly tightly hugging Billy Joel, who had just entered the tent with his wife.

  “My God, can you believe the people here?” she whispered to Michael. “Billy Joel is right behind us!”

  Michael laughed and kissed her mouth. “Come on, let me introduce you to some of your Vineyard neighbors,” he teased.

  They stayed for hours making conversation with practically everyone in attendance until Michael saw exhaustion registering in Annie’s eyes.

  “Are you ready to call it a night?” he asked, kissing her on the forehead.

  “As much as I hate to leave, I think if we don’t, I’ll fall asleep on my feet,” she relented.

  Michael had the valet bring the jeep back to them and they quickly made their way back toward town. Annie waited until they had reached the main road before letting loose with a loud rebel screech which caused Michael to swerve the jeep on the road.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked, his heart jumping wilding in his chest.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to scare you,” she replied in a much softer tone. “I was feeling the need to release the excitement of meeting all those celebrities tonight.”

  He turned and glanced at her in the darkness and reached for her hand. Lovingly, he caressed the back of it. “You didn’t seem nervous at all while we were there, babe. In fact, I’m actually quite proud of how well you handled the whole situation. You’re a natural at pressing the flesh,” he smiled.

  She returned his gaze and kissed the hand he had entwined with her fingers. “Thanks for taking me,” she sighed.

  “So, you had a good time?”

  “Oh my God! What’s not to like about meeting Michael J. Fox, Dan Ackroyd, Jim Belushi and…”

  Michael began to laugh. “Okay, okay. I get your point.”

  Annie was still verbally reflecting on her evening spent with the stars even after they stepped inside the beach house. Exhausted, she flopped herself onto the couch with a loud sigh. “It’s all so amazing to me,” she continued. “Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d ever be rubbing elbows with those people.”

  He listened intently as he slid off his suit jacket, hanging it carefully on the back of a kitchen chair. Then he pulled his silk shirt out of his jeans and began to slowly unbutton it. The whole time, Annie continued to babble with excitement about different conversations she had with each and every celebrity she had spoken with earlier. Michael pulled the coffee table closer, positioned himself directly in front of her, then rolled up his shirt sleeves.

  The smile was frozen on his face as he listened. Her eyes were closed now but still she
continued to talk. He took her slender calf in his large hands and began to massage it gently. His fingers moved down to her foot and removed her sandal, then tossed it with a loud thud onto the floor. The flesh of her leg felt smooth as glass to him as his hands moved slowly over the exposed areas. Resting one foot on his thigh, he reached for her other leg and repeated the manipulations. Annie was oblivious to his ulterior motivations, until he dropped to his knees before her and pressed his mouth to the soft flesh of her inner thigh. Only then did her head pop up from the back of the couch. The heat of his tongue had caused her to stop in mid-sentence. For a brief moment, the room was quiet.

  “Michael, what are you doing?” she gasped, feeling his hot breath exhaling against the front of her thong panties.

  “I’m doing what every man at that party was wishing he could do to you,” he replied, gently biting at the fabric of her undergarment.

  “Oh, be serious,” she squealed, embarrassed by his comment.

  Michael moved his face over to her hip. “Okay, then. I won’t tell you the comments I heard tonight.”

  Annie’s face flushed instantly and she covered her cheeks with her hands. “Seriously?”

  “I speak the truth. There wasn’t a man there tonight that wasn’t wishing he could take you home.” He switched his position on the floor and slid his hands up beneath the flimsy fabric of her dress. “Lift your hips for me,” he asked, hooking his fingers around the waistband of her thong.

  Annie cupped his face with her hands and smiled knowingly. “Why don’t you let me take a quick shower and I’ll meet you in bed,” she suggested seductively.

  Shamelessly he grinned back. “I don’t want to wait that long. I want you right here…as you are.”

  Hearing the lust in his voice, her stomach turned to jelly and her heart began to race. Without further protest, she allowed her panties to be removed and shivered in anticipation as he draped each of her legs over his shoulders. Then she closed her eyes and sighed.

  He played her like he played his guitars; with knowledge and expertise but, as it was with each time he played an old Thrust classic, the riffs were always slightly different, offering the audience some unexpected thrills. Tonight she was his lone audience, her body was his prized instrument and the thrills were all hers.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Over the next several days, Annie became distant and despondent. Michael sensed something was building within her, but all his attempts to bring it out in the open had failed.

  On the fourth morning, Michael woke to an empty bed. He quickly checked every room in the cottage before he allowed a wave of panic to wash over him, then he rushed to the outside deck to scan the beach. His eyes stopped when they reached the boat pier. Still dressed in her nightshirt, she sat at the end of the wooden structure, leaning up against a pylon. Relief flooded his body, but the questions about her behavior remained.

  As he walked out to greet her, many fears crowded his brain. Was she so unhappy living with him that she was preparing to leave again? He shook off the thought and crouched down to sit beside her. She made no acknowledgment of his arrival. Her face was ashen and frozen, as she stared blankly into the depths of the water below. Her eyes appeared swollen from crying.

  “What’s going on, babe?” he asked. The fear of her leaving made his head ache.

  Annie drew a deep, exhausted breath into her lungs, while he waited to hear an explanation.

  “Talk to me, Annie. Don’t shut me out.”

  She turned to face him. She studied his eyes. Then she shook her head in disgust and looked away. “You don’t know, do you?”

  “Know what?”

  “What today is.”

  His head began to swirl with possibilities. Then it hit him like an atom bomb exploding in his lap. “Oh, my God, Annie. This is the anniversary of your accident,” he answered, feeling like a jerk he hadn’t been more attuned to her emotions.

  “It wasn't just my accident, Michael. Sammy was in that car, too, and he died. Remember?”

  He squeezed his eyes shut tight, clenched his teeth and sighed. “Jesus, Annie. I’m sorry.” He slid an arm around her shoulder and attempted to pull her close to his body. Her skin was cold to the touch. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  She sat frozen, unyielding to his embrace. “Not really. It’s something I have to work through myself.”

  He pushed the wind swept-hair off her face. “You don’t have to deal with this alone, you know. I’ll listen as long as you want to talk.”

  “I know, and I thank you for that. But I really just want to be alone for a while.”

  He nodded in acknowledgment; hurt but understanding. “Are you cold?” he asked, rubbing her arms in an attempt to warm her skin.

  “No, I’m fine,” she replied, her shoulders beginning to heave in giant sobs and then she turned to him and crumbled before his eyes.

  He quickly enveloped her with his arms and massaged her back with his fingers. “It’s okay, babe. Let it go. I’m right here,” he kept repeating, kissing her forehead.

  Her tears came in torrents, lasting for what seemed like forever. Throughout it all, he held on tightly. Finally, she was quiet; peaceful except for the occasional quake of her body. Exhaustion had put her to sleep. Gently, he picked her up and carried her back to the cottage, lovingly putting her into bed. When he had her safely tucked beneath the sheets, he turned to leave the room.

  “Stay with me,” she asked in a hushed tone.

  He smiled and went back to her, slipping in beside her and taking her in his arms again. Within minutes, she had fallen asleep against his bare chest. He waited until she was in a deep restful sleep and then retreated to the living room, shutting the bedroom door behind him. Annie continued to sleep most of the day.

  It was almost dusk when she appeared in the doorway opening onto the deck. Michael sat upright when he saw her and reached for her body. She fell softly onto his lap.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, kissing her cheek.

  She nodded. “You know, I missed Sammy’s funeral.”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry you had to.”

  “Can you tell me about it?”

  Michael reflected on the memory for a moment before answering. “They had the service at a Baptist church in his hometown. I remember there was a lot of music, really good soulful tunes that I know Sammy would have loved.”

  Annie closed her eyes and smiled, as if to visualize it. “Go on. Tell me who was there.”

  “Hundreds, maybe close to three hundred or more packed the church and the over-flow stood on the lawn surrounding the building. They set-up a special audio system for the people standing outside to hear. Brian and myself, and the whole band went, spouses and all. Our group took up two pews. At the cemetery, I even noticed Gary, Buzz and Ivory. I waved but I didn’t get a chance to speak with them.” Michael sighed at the memory. “Sammy would have loved it. It was the perfect tribute.”

  “The night before the accident I stayed at his apartment, you know. He stayed up all night listening to me cry about you. In the morning before we left, he gave me two autographed guitar picks. He gave them to me more as a joke, but now they’re very special to me.” Annie fought to hold her tears at bay. “I remember it all so clearly. He signed his name and then placed them in my hand. And he laughed, as only Sammy could laugh, and said, ‘who knows, maybe someday after I’m dead, they might be worth something.’”

  “Sounds like something Sammy would do,” Michael commented.

  “Part of me wonders if we hadn’t stayed up all night talking, maybe he wouldn’t have been so tired and the accident wouldn’t have happened.”

  “Annie, the speedometer was stuck at ninety-two miles an hour. I think the accident had more to do with speed than with sleep deprivation.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” she exhaled. “I have to let it go. Sammy would want it that way.”

  “Absolutely.”

  The next day Michael took Annie hiking
up the highest peak on the island. They brought fruit for lunch, a blanket and lots of water. The view from the top was spectacular. In the distance, you could see the outline of Cape Cod in the hazy sun. After finding a soft grassy spot on the southern slope, Michael spread out the blanket and sat on it. Annie sat beside him. The sun was brilliant and a gentle breeze blew up the ridge to cool them.

  He stretched his legs out and laid down, folding his arms beneath his head, forming a pillow. Dark sunglasses concealed the blue sea of his eyes. His long curls were pulled back in a ponytail and a baseball cap adorned his head. He wore a white loose-fitting tank top, black spandex bicycle shorts and sneakers. Nothing about him advertised the rock star enigma that he was.

  She was dressed almost identically in black spandex shorts and a white sports bra. She gazed at his body, long, lean and very tanned. There was a peace about him now, a serenity that came from within. She ran her fingers down the length of his torso, continued past the elastic waistband of his shorts, down the length of his muscled thigh and shin, and stopped at his ankle. She didn’t touch him out of lust this time, but from a complete fascination of his physical state of being.

  He rolled his head and watched the progression of her hand over his body. “Like what you see?” he asked coyly.

  She jumped when she heard the sensual tone of his voice. Without glancing back at his face, she removed her hand. “Yes, the view is breathtaking.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” he teased.

  “I know what you meant,” she smiled to herself, and placed her hand back on his knee.

  He sat upright, shoulder to shoulder with her and sighed. “I wish life could always be this effortless,” he said, gazing off toward the rolling farm fields of Chilmark.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Do you realize this is the first time I’ve been able to completely relax in years?” he stated, matter-of-factly.

  “Then I guess you were overdue,” she replied sympathetically.

  “Have you noticed I haven’t even picked up my guitar in days? And you know what? That fact doesn’t bother me in the least. I’m beginning to really like doing whatever the hell I feel like - even if that means doing nothing at all.”