Whirlwind Love: Libby's Journey

by Hendley, DiDi

  “Good point, bro! Seems this lady called it in this afternoon…now that’s planning ahead! Okay, we have…yellow-gel-o shots! Interesting choice,” Joe’s brow furrowed in question.

  The waitresses wondered around the room selling shots from their trays.

  “Okay, lock and load,” Joe called out. “Sue, wants us to dedicate these yellow-gel-o shots.” Joe laughs to himself as he reads the paper.

  “I think…I’ll just read this one. Here we go. Yellow-gel-o for my yellow-bellied fellow…you spineless, cheatin, no good, can’t-wait-‘til-you’re-my-ex-husband,” Joe paused for dramatic effect as he raised his shot.

  “To Buck!”

  A wave of laughter rolls through the crowd as Joe shrugs to Chuck, “It’s what it said, man,” he laughed.

  “SHOOT!” Joe yelled. He and Chuck threw back their shots as the crowd followed along with great enthusiasm.

  Chuck began playing the chorus of Hank Williams’ Your Cheatin’ Heart, and Joe chimed in with the words, followed by the crowd. A tall, large-bellied man with his arm around a very young, barely dressed girl glared at Joe from the opposite side of the room from Libby. He shoved the girl aside and made his way to the main entrance, elbowing and pushing through the crowd, leaving a wake of laughing patrons.

  “A woman, scorned,” Chuck said, nodding his head in approval.

  “You’d sure as hell recognize,” Joe added, without looking at Chuck. Both nodded, followed by hearty laughs.

  As Joe entertained the crowd with the story of how TBK came to be, Chuck’s eyes scanned the many ladies standing in front of him, crowding for a better position in his line of site. A young blonde with cherry-red lips and large blue eyes stood in adoration, tolerating the occasional shoves from behind with welcoming smiles in spite of the thrusts. Chucks eyes settled on her as Joe droned on.

  Chuck absently slipped his guitar strap from its catch and placed the instrument in a stand. His expression was completely disinterested in everything going on around him. He chose another guitar, standing behind him facing away from the audience. With his back to the crowd, he strapped the guitar against his body. Tuning, he turned back to his fans, and the screams from the ladies echoed across the room. Joe noticed their excitement and glanced back at Chuck.

  Chuck had again zeroed in on the blonde and raised an eyebrow in challenge.

  “Here we go,” Joe muttered, shaking his head as he continued to engage the room.

  Chuck’s guitar was a dark finished wood, with the etched lines adding the dimensions of a woman’s nude body. At the end of the large end of the soundboard, large breasts with raised nipples were carved and burnt for a shadowed effect. Where a smaller-than-normal sound hole implied a naval, the neck extended from an etched crotch. As Chuck smiled at the young groupie, his fingers mindlessly fingered the breasts and nipples of his guitar. Her eyes sparkled as her face blushed and she giggled and whispered to her friend next to her. They both erupted into a school-girl fit, along with the ladies standing around her. The sound of their screams overwhelmed Joe, and he swung his head around to glare at Chuck.

  “Will you behave?” Joe grunted.

  Chuck glanced at him and grinned. As soon as Joe’s head was turned again, Chuck’s fingers slipped up to the crotch area of the guitar. He began to pick a slow, sensual blues tune. His fans exploded.

  Joe threw his hands up in the air and took a drink from his bottle.

  As Joe continued his set list, Libby made her way through the crowd in front of the stage to take a picture and discovered her flash card was full. Joe’s eyes followed her as he sang. His gaze didn’t leave her as she made her way toward the back door and through the crowd of Chuck fans. Libby encountered a very large man standing guard just inside the door. She leaned into his ear, “I need to get a new card,” flashing the camera in his direction. The man opened the door and said “I’ll be here...just knock hard when you’re ready to come back in.” Libby slipped out the door and made her way toward her RV.

  She pulled the keys from her pocket as she crossed the access road where Joe teased her about becoming a speed bump. The memory made her smile. Close to her RV, a noise from the road behind her caught her attention. She turned to see the shadow of a large man, closing in quickly behind her. She took several quick sidesteps toward the RV, but he was beside her before she could get far. He shoved her into the front of the RV. A sharp pain in her left hand radiated up her arm as her fingers were pinched between the grill; her keys; and the camera, before they all fell to the asphalt. Libby let out a sharp yelp at the pain, which seemed to fuel the man’s anger.

  “So, the bitch has me followed...does she? Well, I’ve got news for her...she needs to think again! I’ll hand her...her ass on a paper plate!” The air around the man reeked of alcohol. As his fist recoiled--preparing to land another blow, Libby stared up in terror, with nowhere to go. The RV grill was firmly behind her back, and her hands scrambled for anything to keep her from falling further to the ground.

  Before she could speak, an arm came from nowhere and locked inside the big man’s cocked arm. His body fell backwards, crashing to the ground. Joe suddenly appeared between the drunk and Libby. As he fumbled to his feet, he lunged at Joe, who sidestepped easily, again throwing the man onto the road face down. Now bleeding, the man staggered to his feet. He stood several inches above Joe, with more than twice Joe’s weight to his advantage. Had he not been so inebriated, Joe might have actually been in a fight.

  He again lunging at Joe, and Libby heard her voice scream, “NO!” just as Joe swiftly met the man halfway, throwing his weight into the man’s waist and driving him across the road into the TBK trailer. She heard the man grunt loudly on impact. Joe’s hand recoiled, ready and aimed at the man’s face.

  She heard Joe’s voice, now low, rough and authoritative, “Your choice, pal...what’s it gonna be?”

  The man, apparently sobered by the blows to his body and his ego, acquiesced. She could hear the man gasping for air as he put his hand on his ribs. He stumbled sideways, glaring at Libby the entire time. “This ain’t over...YOU TELL HER...this ain’t over!” he huffed, pointing a stubby finger before he turned and limped away.

  Joe turned to Libby, “You alright?” He trotted quickly across the access road to her. She nodded slowly, struggling to find her footing.

  Joe steadied her, then picked up her camera. Glass fell from the lens. “Oh no!” he said gently, handing her the camera.

  As she took the camera in her left hand, she whimpered. Joe stuck it under his arm and took her arm in his hands. He pulled her out of the shadow to look closer at her hand. “Is it broken?” he looked concerned as he gently touched her fingers.

  Libby shook her head, pulled her hand back, and tried not to wince, “Nah, probably just a sprain or something...it’ll be fine. Hey, imagine what I’d look like if you hadn’t come out when you did,” she laughed nervously.

  She looked around for her keys. She and Joe both reached to pick them up at the same time, their faces…a breath apart. Libby heard nothing—as if all sound enveloped them in a vacuum. Her eyes locked onto Joe’s. She became aware of every heartbeat, growing louder and faster. The electricity between them was fierce. Libby’s knees began to buckle, but Joe’s hand unconsciously steadied her. As they rose together, Libby heard the traffic from the highway and laughter from the bar replacing the silence of their moment. Catching her breath, she stepped back...her head was spinning.

  Joe’s voice was strained. “You, you okay?”

  Libby smiled nervously as she avoided his gaze and took a deep breath. She stumbled around the RV toward the door. “No...um, I’m fine. Thanks.”

  “You’re, not letting some ol’ drunk run you off, are you?” Joe looked concerned, although he was trying to be glib.

  Libby looked at his face, so handsome in the moonlight, “No...I, I came out for a flashcard, b
ut...now...well,” she stammered, looking at her broken camera lens.

  He laughed. “I saw you leave. I just didn’t want you to get away without getting the chance to ask if you’d like to join me for dinner, or an early breakfast.”

  Libby laughed nervously...setting the broken camera inside the opened RV doorway. “I guess my photography career is in question now,” she replied, and they both laughed. “I don’t know, Joe. Doesn’t that just point the way down the road to regret?”

  The dim solar-lights outside the RV cast faint shadows across their faces.

  “Wow…easy, now. Somebody sure danced on your heart. It’s…just dinner. We can talk about my pictures.” He studied her face.

  “Come-on,” he urged, “Besides, you shouldn’t be driving out there. It’s late. All the drunks on the road,” he laughed.

  She studied his lips as he spoke, then caught the gaze of his blue eyes--studying her.

  “Girl’s gotta eat, right?” he added with a gorgeous smile.

  She looked deeply into his eyes, thoughts flashing so fast she couldn’t speak. Should I go? He is so handsome. His eyes...those eyes...I’ll bet nobody ever says no to him. I just want to touch his face, to kiss...

  Libby unconsciously licked her lips.

  “Sounds…nice,” she heard herself say as she squirmed onto the first step. His lips curled into a smile as she stood above him. The light caught his eyes: they sparkled. The electricity again hit Libby, and she trembled. She tried to cover up her reaction by backing up the RV stairs, but stumbled up instead. He stepped toward her, but she caught herself before he touched her again. Even still, a chill ran through her body in the anticipation of his touch.

  As she side-stepped up the RV steps, he flipped his thumb toward the building. “See you in there then,” he said, backing toward the roadway.

  She nodded, smiling awkwardly, and took the final step inside the RV.

  “Besides, the road to regrets might not be as bad as you think. Sometimes you just gotta buckle-up and ride it through. Never know…it might be the ride of your life,” Joe laughed and looked back at the bar. “I better hurry back…” Turning back to her, he added, “You know, you’re very…different…from most women I meet. You…intrigue me,” he turned slowly, smiling, then walked quickly back to the bar.

  * * *

  Inside the RV, Libby locked the door and muttered, “Flarflebloo, girl. What’s wrong with you?” She then became aware of the blood smeared on her shirt from a gash in her elbow, not to mention her throbbing finger. She pulled off her hat and wisps of curls sprang free from the bondage of the elastic band. She grabbed a breakfast burrito from the freezer, and held it against her finger as she rushed into the bathroom to wash her arm. She pulled open the drawer for first aid items and patched the gash with a large bandage. Filling the sink with cold water, she pulled off her shirt and dropped it into basin to soak.

  “What are you doing, Libby?” Libby faced herself in the mirror. “He’s a musician! An angry one, at that!” Libby shook her head as she walked back to her bedroom. She grabbed a clean shirt from her closet and slipped it on as she returned to the kitchen and snatched her hat from the floor, then walked into the RV den and sat on the sofa. She took a deep breath, trying to comprehend the events and the emotions that welled up inside her.

  “This is crazy, you don’t get involved with men! Especially one so…” Libby sat back and stared into space for a moment, searching for a word to describe Joe. Libby shook her head. Still holding the frozen burrito in her left hand, she picked up her camera and awkwardly pulled out the flash card. She inspected it for damage before inserting it into her computer. As the computer read the card, Libby inspected the shattered lens. She attached another lens from her camera bag, popped in another flash card and shot a picture of the front window of her RV. It seemed to be working. She glanced at the images on the card as they downloaded to the laptop, smiling as they rolled across her screen. She checked her finger, it was swollen and turning colors. She grimaced as she tried to move it.

  Libby wondered if the drunk may have come back. She looked around for something to swing at him, just in case; but all she found was an umbrella.

  “Yeah. Right. That won’t work.”

  Filling a small zippy bag with ice for her finger, she tossed the burrito back into the freezer. Libby checked through the window of the front of the RV and noticed the bouncer standing behind the SUV and trailer—maybe he was waiting for her? Relieved, she stepped outside the RV, locked the door and hurried across the parking lot.

  As he heard her footsteps, he smiled and gestured to her to come on. He opened the propped door for her and both returned to the party. Joe and Chuck had the crowd dancing as Libby returned to her table. Shortly thereafter, she joined the crowd, dancing beside her table: the drunk and the broken lens were soon forgotten, although the throb in her finger lingered.

  * * *

  After the close of the show, Joe and Chuck graciously greeted fans, signed autographs, posed for pictures and answered questions. Libby waited at her table, but her resolve began to fade as she mentally questioned her agreement to stay. Her mind raced with reasons to stay…and to go. When most fans seemed satisfied, Chuck began breaking down his equipment, and Joe did whatever he could between fans. Both paused intermittently to pose as fans requested pictures. The impatient staff stepped in to lend a hand and soon everything was loaded back into the travel trailer.

  Joe walked over to Libby’s table and asked, “Ready?” as if he was waiting on her. Libby laughed at the thought, then nodded as she rose. Her mind raced with indecision. The two went out the door as the bouncer followed behind. He stayed until they were safely in their vehicles, then closed the bar door.

  Libby fired up the RV and pulled alongside the SUV, thinking she’d just offer an excuse now—then she could easily drive on to Laura’s. Joe leaned out the window, “Just follow us—it’s not far.” Before she could offer her excuse, Chuck gunned the SUV and pulled the dented trailer onto the deserted highway. Libby followed behind; fretting that she should’ve told him she needed to go.

  “I could just keep driving,” she mumbled to herself. “I know, Mama…I wasn’t raised that way,” she snorted. “Okay, a quick meal, just be polite, and then I’m outta there,” she resolved.

  They drove about five miles out of town and pulled into the parking lot of an old, 1950’s style diner. Both pulled through, parking between the diner and a small motel that looked to be from the same era. Chuck and Joe had a short conversation outside the vehicle, and Chuck walked over to the motel. Libby muttered under her breath, “They are brave to stay in a place like that. Hope it looks better on the inside.”

  She stepped out of the RV and locked the door. As she turned, Joe met her. “Hungry?”

  Trying to cover her startled response, she quickly replied, “I could eat,” she smiled in return. He held his arm toward the diner and waited for her to proceed. She felt his hand gently touch her back, then blinked when the strong aura of whiskey caught her by surprise. She hadn’t noticed it before when they were together. Then she thought about the crazy man and it made sense that she wouldn’t have noticed it.

  Suddenly visions of crashed vehicles, lights and sirens flashed in her mind as they walked toward the diner. Her father’s voice resonated in her ears, at first laughing, “Ah...that’s my Libby-girl...I love ya, Red, you’re the best.” The words echoed from a distant memory. Libby’s heart suddenly rose to her chest.

  “I know this place doesn’t look like much, but the food is pretty good.” Joe’s words snapped Libby from her thoughts with a jolt.

  If he noticed her jump, he didn’t show it as he opened the door to the diner, “In our line of work, you learn to appreciate food that tastes good, regardless of what the restaurant looks like. I’ve eaten in some swanky places where the food tasted like yesterday’s garbage, if it
even had a taste at all.”

  Large banners draped the wallspace above the row of stools against a bar, reading Home of the 2AM Hangover Medley: 2-bacon, 2-sausage, slice of ham, 2-eggs, hashbrowns, and tomato juice read one and another, Steak-n-Tater Special 24 hours. Libby nodded politely as Joe ushered her to a booth at the back end of the long single row of booths next to the window, far from the three occupied booths. Joe sat beside her with his back toward the doorway. He motioned a wave of recognition to the diner’s staff.

  “Hey Sue, sweetie, how ya doin? George! Good to see you again!” Joe called out, and they responded in kind.

  “Funny, I’d have pictured you as a ‘back against the wall’ kinda guy,” she smiled.

  He laughed, “Chuck’ll be here soon enough. It’s easier if folks don’t see me around these parts. It’s the difference between hot and cold food,” he smirked. As he spoke, the whiskey on his breath made her catch her own.

  Her thoughts flashed momentarily back to her Dad and Tommy packing the boat for their fishing trip, and she stiffened.

  “Besides, if we put Chuck in the corner with his back to any woman with potential that might walk in,” Joe laughed harder as he seemed to picture the image, “I’m talkin’ whiplash!”

  She quickly turned into the menu, missing his joke. She smiled and nodded.

  “So, did you get a chance to see our pictures...how’d we do?”

  “Fantastic, I’d say,” she smiled. “You’re very photogenic. But then again, you probably already knew that, didn’t you? That reminds me…why aren’t there good photos on your website? Everything seems to be blurred or distant.”

  Joe squirmed in his seat. “Long story. Basically, it all boils down to a pathetic excuse for a manager. We had the best…Marty, Marty Frost.” He was great for us and our career. But…hey, are you gonna tell me what that scent is that’s driving me nuts?” he grinned.

  From seemingly nowhere, “Hey Joe, good to see ya! I figured you’d be in. Did ya get my shootout?” she laughed. “You all want coffee?” the waitress began setting coffee cups and ice water glasses around the table, even before they answered