Boy in a Band (A Morgan Mallory story)

by Lisa Loomis

  “I told Gayle not to wait up.”

  “You’re just plain bad,” I said, feeling dazed.

  He was quiet a minute while I stared out the window. He still could get to me, even if I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.

  “I think we established that a long time ago.”

  “I’ve been set up,” I said softly.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about Gayle’s motive. I would have guessed she would have told Mathew to go drown himself. Instead she let him pick me up. He had told her not to wait up? She was biting her tongue. Gayle was doing what she thought I would want. It had nothing to do with Mathew’s ways. She was forcing me to make my own decision, hoping I would make the right one. I heard her voice “it makes sense about your stupid behavior”. Was I even capable of love or was I truly damaged goods? Damaged goods I thought.

  “Are you dating anyone in particular or just the normal steady stream?” I asked.

  I wanted not to care. In a way I already knew the answer, he wouldn’t have gone to lengths to pick me up if he had a girlfriend.

  “Nobody in particular,” he said.

  “I guess Anna didn’t work out so well?” I asked, tormenting.

  “Anna who?” he answered.

  They had in fact dated last summer after I left. Bobby had reluctantly confirmed that for me.

  “I’m an idiot, okay? I’m sorry,” he said.

  I stared straight ahead, wondering what the hell I was doing. Why I even got in the car. Our exchange on the path in Capitola filled my head, colliding with flashes of our days alone on the beach. Unconsciously I raised my fingers to my lips and I saw him smile out of the corner of my eye. Gayle, what have you done to me?

  “There’s no sorry, remember?” I said.

  When we walked into Jack’s house, I could hear Jack talking in the backyard. Mathew went to the refrigerator.

  “Beer, wine?” he asked.

  “Got any white wine?”

  Yes, a drink would be good I thought.

  “I do. This is something new,” he said.

  I stood in silence watching him, the muscles move in his arm, his fingers, while he uncorked the bottle and poured me a glass. I numbly took the glass from him and he got himself a beer. He took my hand, and quickly ducked in for a kiss on my cheek. We walked out back into the sunshine.

  “How are you?” Jack asked as he stood, giving me a big hug.

  It was all too familiar, this house, this yard. Please let me blink and be in Kansas: Dorothy, there’s no place like home.

  “Emily,” I said, hugging Jack’s girlfriend as she stood.

  “It’s good to see you again,” she said smiling.

  Mathew pulled up some lawn chairs for us on the patio, and we joined them. He kept glancing at me and I wondered if he could sense my thoughts, the urge in me to run. It was a hot afternoon, and Mathew’s car had no air conditioning, so I was sweating. The wine tasted refreshing, and I drank half of it in a few sips. A sprinkler rotated on the lawn, sending water one direction then the other. The water seemed to be making the air somewhat cooler. I could smell the familiar sweet scent of jasmine in the air. The sky was clear and blue. I felt stiff, like my body was in defense mode. I looked at Mathew who was still watching me. I finished my wine wanting the liquid to slow my mind. Gayle, what have you done screamed like a siren in my head. I pulled my hair up, twisting it into itself so I could get it off my neck.

  “Can I get another glass?” I asked, a little embarrassed I’d finished it so fast.

  “I’ll get it,” Mathew said, jumping up.

  “There’s another bottle in the pantry,” Emily said. “You might want to put it in the fridge.”

  Mathew walked to the back door his blonde hair gleaming in the sun. He brought me back another glass, much fuller, I noticed. Emily winked at me. I felt the tension from the airport exchange start to ease.

  “How long you here for?” Jack asked.

  “Ten days,” Mathew said.

  “Staying with us?”

  “No, with Gayle,” I answered, shooting Jack an are you kidding look.

  He and Emily knew about my last exit. Mathew smiled at me apprehensively. I had the feeling he was going to try and change that. I realized how much I’d missed him. We sat having cocktails, enjoying the afternoon. It was nice just the four of us talking and laughing.

  “Jack, can I use the phone?” I asked.

  “Use whatever you need while you’re here, especially Mathew, I’m offering him up right away,” he said, laughing

  Mathew shot me a questioning look and watched me as I went inside. I picked up the phone to call Gayle. I stood holding the receiver; the line buzzing, and then put it back down. She would have questions that I currently couldn’t answer. I opened the fridge and poured myself another glass of wine. I noticed Mathew had put the other bottle in. I leaned against the counter, trying to sort my feelings; it wasn’t coming very easily. Emily came in the back door.

  “I was going to grab us some cheese and crackers or something,” she said.

  “Can I help?” I asked, feeling silly she’d found me standing alone in her kitchen.

  “No, go relax with Mathew,” she said, pulling stuff from the fridge.

  “Not sure about that one, Em,” I said.

  “Nonsense,” she said, shooing me out with a wave of her hand.

  “Yeah, pretty much what it’s been, nonsense,” I said.

  I un-did my hair and shook it out.

  “Stop. He’s missed you,” she said.

  I went back outside, thinking about him missing me; wondering if he was capable of such a thing or if my timing was just convenient. A slow time in the girl parade. Emily followed shortly after with a tray that had all sorts of goodies for us to snack on.

  “Thanks, Emily, for the food,” Mathew said.

  I nibbled on a cracker, but didn’t feel hungry. I liked the effect the wine was having on me. The crazy feelings that had been going on inside numbed.

  “I think I’ll help myself to another if that’s okay?” I said, standing.

  “Pour away,” Jack chuckled.

  I went into the kitchen and poured another glass finishing the bottle. I was sure they were talking about me. I left my glass on the counter and used the bathroom. I rinsed my face and then stared at my reflection in the mirror. You should run, Morgan. When I came down the back steps, they stopped talking. I looked at the three of them.

  “Okay, guys, what’s going on?” I asked. “I feel so awkward already, and now you’re talking about me.”

  Mathew stood up and he looked so good that it was almost like a physical stab to my senses.

  “Don’t mean to be rude, but I need to talk to this girl,” Mathew said, extending his hand to me.

  I didn’t take it. I wanted to stay and smell the jasmine, watch the sprinkler, drink more wine, anything but be alone with him. Sadly I knew it wouldn’t take much for him to pull me in. Everyone’s eyes were on me.

  “Go on,” Emily encouraged, “you need to go.”

  She had always liked me, been kind to me, like Jack. I was outnumbered, so I followed Mathew, familiar with the path to his room. It didn’t look so stark anymore. His things filled the top of the dresser, and he had put pictures and posters on the wall. There were several pictures of Kingdom Come on stage. A couple of him jamming live on his guitar, hair flying, one leg raised. I knew exactly why the groupies wanted him. I circled the room, looking at things, aware of him watching me. I finally sat down on the bed. I knew he sensed my discomfort.

  “Let me fill your glass,” he said, taking my half-full wine glass from my hand.

  “Can you play for me?” I asked, looking over at his line of guitars.

  “What do you want to hear?” he asked.

  “Whatever you feel like playing.”

  “Let me get the wine first,” he said.

  “You’ll have to open the other bottle.”

  He smiled. It took him awhile to get
the wine. I figured he was talking to Emily. I picked up his old guitar, the one I had known from the start. I rubbed the wood, pictured his fingers on the neck, plucked a string, it made me sad. I remembered all the times in his room, at the beach, the ski trips; my memories were from the simple times, not the band times. The band world wasn’t a world I knew. I didn’t fit in that world. I wondered where he thought I fit in, why I was here. Oh, Gayle. He walked back into the room with my wine and shut the door slowly.

  “Here you go,” he said, handing me my glass.

  He picked up his acoustical guitar, the one I just put down, and sat on the bed next to me. His first song was Led Zeppelin’s “How I Wish You Were Here”. I listened and was sure he had chosen it specifically, knowing I would hear the words, the story.

  “We’re just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year. Oh, how I wish you were here,” he sang.

  Next he played “Wild Horses”. He started on a song by Styx, which I recognized but couldn’t remember the name of. I got up and went to the bathroom as he played. I brushed my hair and touched up my makeup. I was definitely feeling the wine. I ached to touch him, lay with him, an effect he had on me by just being near. Near enough I could smell him, the lemon, vanilla, light musk smell all wrapped into one that made Mathew, Mathew. I took off my clothes, except my bra and panties.

  “You’re drunk, Morgan,” I whispered to myself in the mirror.

  My girlfriends in San Diego had turned me on to Victoria's Secret, and I only wore cute lingerie anymore. I had on a matching set that was pale pink with some black satin trim. The bra was a push-up, cut low, and it made my breasts look full. He would like it. He was still playing, but looked up from his guitar when I came back into the room. He stopped. I could see his pupils get large.

  “Had you planned on a hot date or what? 'Cause you certainly weren’t counting on me,” he said, setting the guitar to one side.

  I smiled as the butterflies soared into my chest.

  “I’ve gotten into nice lingerie. And no, I wasn’t counting on you.”

  “I like it,” he said undressing me with his eyes.

  He smiled up seductively at me before he reached out and lightly ran his hands over my bra, down my sides, moving to my rear, and then down my legs. His hands were warm and sensual and I shivered. He gazed into my eyes as he pulled me to him and then kissed my stomach. He could play my body like he did his guitar; he knew just how to touch me. Just how to ignite the fire within me.

  “I’ve missed you,” he said.

  “So I’ve been told…”

  “Can I kiss you?” he pleaded. “You haven’t even let me kiss you, Morgan.”

  I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. He’d erased time.

  “I haven’t decided if I’m finished being pissed off at you yet,” I said.

  I knelt down between his knees and leaned in to kiss him. His lips were soft and he put his hand on the back of my head cradling it. I wanted to ravage him, feel him inside me, feel his skin next to mine, but I could tell by his touch he wanted to relish it. He pushed his tongue into my mouth, circling, seeking my tongue, slowly giving me that kiss, over and over, the one that was able to send me to the moon with desire. He ran a hand around my back reaching for my bra clasp, opening it easily singlehandedly. As it fell forward from my body I could feel my nipples get hard and I moaned.

  He leaned away from me slowly removing the bra down my arms. Seeing my hard nipples he leaned in to suck on them leisurely, one at a time, he cupped my breasts in his hands and squeezed tenderly. I dug my fingers into his hair. When he pushed at me to stand I did so and he unhurriedly took my panties down my legs. Then he rolled back on his elbows and gazed at me with lustful eyes. I inhaled deeply.

  “Take off your clothes,” I ordered.

  We made love with the passion of old, one that never seemed to die. He took me on a roller coaster ride, sending me off the track with a small vulnerable whimper.

  As I curled into him I reminded him of the summer he’d told me to lose Ben. It by far had been the best summer. We talked, and laughed, catching up. We touched briefly on his behavior last summer.

  “Do you ever get hurt, or are you always the hurter? All the girls you’ve dated?” I asked as I played with the hair on his stomach, the happy trail.

  “I don’t know if I hurt them. It doesn’t work out for one reason or another.”

  “Maybe because there’s another girl right behind them, or right beside them, depending on your mood. We’re kind of funny that way, girls, I mean; we’re not big fans of cheating,” I said digging my chin into his chest.

  He went on, ignoring me.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever given my whole heart.”

  “Your whole heart? What does that mean?” I asked, the wine making me bold.

  “Promise you won’t get crazy?”

  I lifted my head and looked into his eyes.

  “No,” I said, “it’s a chance you'll have to take.”

  He smiled and pushed my head back onto his chest.

  “I think a chick’s hot, and that I want to be with her. Then I am for a while, and I realize no,” he said.

  “Hmm. Not-so-hot or not-so feelings?”

  “Not-so feelings.”

  I couldn’t help but wonder what was not-so about us, and if it was why had he missed me.

  “Damaged goods,” I said.

  “What?” he asked, confused.

  “Nothing.”

  I nuzzled into him. It felt natural and right. All the anxiety he’d caused by showing up at the airport had faded away. Oh, Gayle, you’re going to hate me.

  “You ever felt like he was it about a guy?”

  “No,” I lied.

  “You seeing anyone at home?”

  He was curling a strand of my curls around his finger, around and around, and then let it go. It made me think about another time in Tahoe.

  “No,” I answered.

  “Would you tell me if you were?” he asked.

  “No,” I replied.

  “That hurts.”

  He squeezed me to him.

  “I’m not,” I chuckled. “I swear. The bigger question: are you, or maybe how many?”

  “Nope, zero. I’m all yours if you want me,” he teased.

  Moonlight was streaming though his window. I could see his face in the dark. I thought about last summer as I lay my head on his shoulder. He’d hurt me, he knew he’d hurt me, and yet here I was in his arms. I hoped his promise of there being no one else would last past the night.

  “Look at the moon,” I said.

  He pushed my hair back as I wrestled with what I wanted to say, how it should sound. I didn’t want to come off as whinny or demanding, and least of all hurt.

  “I’m here for ten days. I hadn’t planned on seeing you,” I said.

  I was trying to choose my words carefully, not to relay too much of my true feelings. Not to let him know he’d already sucked me back.

  “I figured you wouldn’t even know I was in town. I planned to avoid you at all costs. Now you and Gayle have blown that all to hell on day one.”

  He sighed. I reached up and put my hand around his chin.

  “I will only put up with one Mathew. The one that is here right now. Don’t expect me to put up with the other one. I won’t, not for a minute,” I said.

  He pulled me tight to him, wrapping his arms around me.

  Chapter 38

  I called Gayle the next morning as he showered. I figured she would be over-the-top-anxious to hear from me, wondering, and worrying, about what had gone down. I realized she expected me to run; she had bet on it and lost. Jane answered the phone.

  “Hey, Jane, it's Morgan.”

  “Hi there, Gayle’s been waiting for your call. Gayle,” she called out into the house.

  “I’m surprised she didn’t answer it, she’s been sitting on it like a hen. Here she comes, Morgan.”

  I could hear the phone being
shuffled, and Gayle came on. I could hear her breathing; she had probably run down the hall when her mom called.

  “Well?” she asked, a hint of anger lacing her question.

  “Well? Nice secret the two of you cooked up. Since when did you, of all people, become a Mathew ally?”

  “I haven’t become a Mathew ally. He can be very persistent when he wants something.”

  “Really?” I said sarcastically. “Explain.”

  I pulled the phone cord and sat down at Emily’s kitchen table.

  “He wanted to know if you were coming: when, where, all the details. I resisted at first, knowing how last summer ended. In fact I was rude to him. I told him what an asshole he was. He asked if you were seeing anyone. I told him I thought you definitely were.”

  “Gayle,” I scolded.

  She’d given him exactly what I’d hoped for.

  “Couldn’t help myself, I wanted to hurt him, if that’s even possible. He said he really wanted to see you. He felt bad about last summer. I told him I didn’t think that would be happening.”

  I laughed.

  “You’re so funny. I can just hear you,” I said.

  “I was serious. I saw what he did to you last summer. Miss ‘I can’t get hurt by Mathew’, got her heart ripped out of her chest more than once. I thought with the first phone call, the discussion was over, but he wouldn’t let up. He kept calling, asking the same fucking questions. He finally convinced me to let him at least pick you up. The deal was, if it didn’t go well, he would leave you alone. No asking, no harassing, done.”

  I could picture her sitting on the wooden built in desk in the kitchen. She always sat on top of it, never in the chair.

  “I wanted to run initially. Get far, far away. I was pissed you let him come,” I said.

  She sighed.

  “I expected a call from the airport.” she paused. “Why didn’t you run, Morgan, why?”

  I’d thought about this, over and over, knowing she would ask and I just didn’t have a very good reason, except maybe she’d been right, I’d loved him forever. Maybe I didn’t know how to stop.

  “He wouldn’t let me,” I said quietly. “He pushed softly as only Mathew can do. He took me to Jack’s. We had drinks in the yard. It was hot outside. I kept thinking I needed to go, but I didn’t. I even picked up the phone to call you and then hung it back up. I drank wine instead, and then he played his guitar for me, like he used to.”