“Zach,” he went on, “you can pick from the two closest to the stairs. Mine’s at the end of the hall on the right, and the door across from it is the other master suite.” Kori cocked a brow and JT continued, “Yeah, there’s his-and-hers suites. The original owner didn’t like his wife much, I guess.”
“How do you know they’re his and hers?” Kori asked as she started down the stairs to snag her suitcases.
“’Cause the one that’s not mine is pink.” JT grinned when Kori froze halfway down the staircase. “But you can redecorate it.”
Kori approached the door to her new bedroom like it might reach out and maul her. Standing behind her with her laptop bag and carryon, JT leaned down and mumbled in her ear, “It’s not all pink, love. Just the wallpaper. And you’re welcome to flee to my room if all the pinkness keeps you awake.”
Kori shook her head and twisted the doorknob. “Oh. My. God.” It was a Victorian-era nightmare. There was an obscene amount of lace. Everywhere. White lace on the bed, lace curtains, lace doilies. Huge pink cabbage roses dominated the wallpaper and were repeated in a pattern on the carpet. White French Provincial furniture supplemented the overall paleness of the room. To, of course, make the pink stand out. Nauseatingly.
“Who decorated this? It looks like a twelve-year-old girl’s wet dream.” Kori set down her suitcase and, shuddering, picked up the nearest doily and tossed it on the bedspread.
JT shrugged. “Good guess. It was my ex-wife. The wallpaper and rugs were already here, and this was the only room in the house she furnished. After this one, I decided to leave most of the rest of the house as it was. Her taste was wretched.”
Kori began folding the bedspread in on itself and tugging it off the bed. “If I remember the stories right, you were only together a year after you bought this house, weren’t you?” That’s it, keep talking about him, his house, volunteer nothing and do not ask about the view from the music room.
“Yeah, this house cemented the end of my marriage. I’d known she was more about the money than me for quite a while, but when she took her own bedroom, that was it.” JT stared at Kori staring at the curtains with a definite yank-it-down look in her eye and chuckled. “You don’t have to redecorate it today, love.”
She shook her head. “Oh, I know. I’m just trying to get… comfortable. I have this feeling that you’re not going to let me leave until I let you back into my head, and I don’t know how long that might take.” Kori glanced at his face and then down to study a hideous pink rose on the carpet. “It’s not intentional, JT. This wall went up by itself and I don’t know how to tear it down. Or if I’m ready to try to yet.”
JT closed the distance to her in three long strides and folded her against his chest. “Fair enough, Kori. You’ve quite a lot to sort through. And you’re right, I won’t let you go.” He brushed a kiss over the top of her head, breathing, “Not ever,” into her hair.
***
After two days of nursing their jetlag with frequent naps, lots of reading and television and an abundance of nukable soups and stews (lovingly made by JT’s housekeeper, Stella), Friday morning found JT, Kori and Zach ready to do more than nod and mumble to each other in passing. Kori, who had finally slept a bit, was feeling less immobilized by grief and guilt since being removed from the home she and Mark had shared for years. She had set up the urn of his ashes on one of the ugly white dressers in her suite next to his photo, taken back when he’d been healthy and tan. She touched the urn and sighed. “What do I do now, honey? Stay? Go? I wish you were here so I could talk to you. I need your approval. Or at least your opinion. Damn.”
She hooked her laptop bag over her shoulder, grabbed her digital camera and set out in search of JT’s den and an internet hookup. She knew he had wi-fi, but JT said it was unreliable because the house was made of steel and cinderblocks, so the signal didn’t go very far and tended to quit whenever it felt like it. She poked her head into Zach’s room as she went down the hall and found him lying on the bed, reading his American Literature textbook. “You doing okay, honey?”
“Yeah, Mom. Is it okay if I finish one subject at a time instead of doing a little of each one every day? I feel like I only have enough energy to read right now.”
Kori smiled weakly. “Jetlag’ll do that. It’s like having the flu, you get so tired and your internal clock doesn’t match where the sun is. Go ahead and read all you want, and we’ll go over the questions at the end later. I’m going to try to remember the way to the den so I can get some work done for the website. If you need me, hunt me down, okay?”
Zach nodded and stretched and went back to his reading.
At the bottom of the stairs, Kori tried to remember which way to go. I wish the blinds had been open in the den when we took our little tour, so I could have seen if it was in the back or the front of the house. All I remember is that it’s past the music room…
JT was sitting at his desk cleaning out his email inbox. No, I don’t need Viagra, want to participate in a Nigerian money scam, want government grants, I don’t care who wants to date me on Facebook… I really have got to adjust the spam settings. Once he was done deleting the junk, he opened the email from the band’s webmaster. As expected, it was a plea for something new from the band to post for the fans. The tour had been over for two weeks and a thanks was long overdue. He’d just started to key his reply when Kori peeked her head into the room and muttered, “Finally. Stupid huge house.”
“Lost, sweetheart? Or finally found?” He finished typing and looked up to find her heading for the tall, narrow table under the window.
“Both.” She hefted her laptop case onto the table and unzipped it. “Can I set this up here for now? And why is it so dark in here?” She grabbed the rod to open the blinds and twisted it. Sunlight crept in as the slats opened wider, then with a whispered, “Oh shit,” Kori stopped.
I know that tree. And the garden. Even mostly dead for winter, I recognize it. I know this view as well as any out the windows in my own house. If I ever doubted that he was where I fled to in my adult years, I can’t anymore. I wasn’t ready to think about how much we are part of each other, but here it is, staring me down. Jesus, how many times did I vacation in his head when he was in here?
JT turned to see her standing utterly still in front of the half-open blinds. “Something wrong, love?”
She shook her head once, very slowly. And the studio is right beneath us, in a sort of basement floor, because the front of the house is dug into a hill. It has a sliding glass door to go out onto the smoking patio. It’s the only place in the house where you can’t smoke indoors. I remember this like I’ve been there, like these are my own memories. And I guess they are, just once removed and kind of sideways.
She backed away from the window, gave JT an assessing look he didn’t know how to interpret, then turned and walked quickly out of the room.
Of course he followed her. She’d just gotten lost trying to find the room she’d practically run back out of. As he entered the hallway, he caught a flash of Kori as she entered the stairwell that went down to the semi-basement that ran the entire length of the back side of the house. There were only two things down there: his recording studio and the garage. He didn’t think she’d suddenly had an urge to go out driving. He shrugged and took the stairs two at a time.
A quick jog and a left turn later, sure enough he found her standing in the middle of the studio. She was speaking softly and he stopped in the doorway, straining to listen.
“There’s the tall pub chair Rafe and Ian fight over, Paul’s favorite stool, JT’s worn-out leather club chair he refuses to get rid of… the wine stain on the rug that Clay and Paul blame each other for…” She spoke louder without turning. “JT, the framed platinum album second from the end is still hanging crooked, isn’t it? And Rafe’s the one who put in the two screws uneven, right? While the rest of you were eating lunch and he was tired of tripping over it where it leaned behind the door to the room where you r
ecord the vocals.”
Whoa. “You saw that happen?”
Kori shook her head. “No, I saw what you saw when you came back from upstairs. A frame hanging crooked and Rafe telling you why he hung it. But I thought I dreamed it.” She turned around. “Do you know what this means?”
He cocked a brow and replied, “Not really.”
“Actually, neither do I. Except that I must have been jumping into your head more than I thought and told myself they were just vivid dreams. The only times I accepted that I was seeing the world through your eyes was when you were alone. And I still didn’t know who you were.”
****
After the studio incident that morning, JT thought the time was coming when he should give Mark’s letter to Kori. She still hadn’t let him into her head, but there were times that he was sure she’d invaded his. Mostly when he was drifting off to sleep. They were still sleeping apart, and he knew that appearances for Zach’s sake weren’t part of it. They’d slept in the same bed in Kori’s house, and Zach seemed to accept his mom and JT’s relationship as part of his life. If the right moment didn’t present itself in flashing neon within the next two days, he decided he’d just yank her into his room and give the letter anyway.
He snuggled further down into his blankets and closed his eyes, relaxing his mind and hoping Kori might tuck herself into a corner of it for a while like he felt she’d been doing since their first night in his house.
Kori laid back and closed her eyes, willing sleep to come and fighting the temptation to poke into JT’s head to alleviate her loneliness. That portion of the wall had been melting for nearly a week, and she’d picked up random emotions since then, usually after he’d gone to bed. But since their arrival in England, she’d had to resist the urge to reach into his head for more. She kept telling herself that it was just because she was out of her element and she was grasping for something familiar to anchor herself to. Pretty lie, that. Truly, she missed their wordless communion, the comfort of his thoughts twining through hers, and she felt guilty for wanting it. Her husband’s soul had moved on barely two weeks prior and already she was ready to move forward with living. How astoundingly selfish.
She closed her eyes and sighed. Then stretched one little tendril of her awareness across the hall.
She fell asleep and dreamed that she was packing her house and waiting for JT and Zach to return with fast-food hamburgers.
****
After her nearly normal behavior the previous day, JT was completely flummoxed to find Kori wouldn’t meet his eyes and barely spoke while she sipped her morning coffee. He peered at her face while she stared into her mug, noting that her undereye circles were fading nicely.
He decided to test the waters. “You’re looking rested this morning, Kori.”
She responded by shrugging one shoulder.
“Feel like taking a proper tour of the house after breakfast? See all the parts we skipped?”
She finally looked up, and her eyes were a dull almost-gray. “I know the house, JT. Now that I’ve realized that I was visiting and not dreaming. I even know where the rack of car keys is. And the gate code.” She shook her head. “You really ought to pick something other than your own birthday backwards. That’s not too secure.”
“Yeah, but since hardly anybody knows it’s my house, I’m comfortable with it.” He’d gotten her talking, but wondered about the backwards shift in her mood. He remembered falling asleep feeling her curled up in the corner of his mind and thought they’d moved forward somewhat. So what that she’d mainlined my life when I wasn’t looking? All the better, in my opinion. He got a quick flash of guilt that was not his own and she looked back into her mug.
Ah, crumbling just a bit, I see. Letter. Today. She’s ready. Even if she isn’t, she’s getting it today. Because she has got to stop beating herself up. As soon as she’s done with her coffee and heads upstairs to shower, I’m pulling her in to my room. She needs to see what Mark wanted for her future.
Two rather quiet mugfuls and a cigarette later, Kori excused herself with a mumbled comment about showering. JT said he’d walk up with her, since he was heading back to his own bedroom. At the top of the upstairs hallway, JT snagged her arm without preamble, pulled her in to his suite, and closed the door.
Kori was puzzled and more than a little pissed. “Joseph Blackwood, what in the hell do you think you’re doing?” As she rounded on him and growled, “You said you’d back off and give me time, and -”
he hushed her with two fingers to her lips. “It’s not what you think, Kori. Truly. Come sit with me,” he said as he led her to the edge of his bed. “I have something I have to give you.”
JT reached into his nightstand and pulled out an envelope. “This is for you, love. Mark told me to wait just a bit after his passing to give it to you, said I’d know when you were ready.” He held it out to her, and she just stared at the words written on it in the loose, loopy handwriting that had become Mark’s during his last month of life.
My Heart.
Twin tears slipped from her lashes and her hands shook as she took out the two folded sheets and began to read. She swiped at her eyes and sniffled, then smiled and shook her head. Her bottom lip quivered as she read the second page and she sucked it between her teeth. She seemed to read that page, which only held two real paragraphs, either very slowly or over and over, JT couldn’t tell which. When she was done, her hands dropped into her lap, still clutching the two pages of Mark’s final words. She crumpled in on herself and her shoulders started to tremble. JT gently pulled the letter from her fingers and wrapped his arms around her. Kori buried her face in his bathrobe and the tears finally came.
All of the emotions that she had walled inside after Mark’s death blasted into JT’s head as the barricade exploded. She sobbed her grief, her sadness and loss, her shame and guilt. He pulled her in tighter, as much to hold himself up as to give her comfort.
JT struggled to find his voice through the onslaught. Or even identify which part of his brain was his. Her bawling grew louder and he gave up any hope of being heard even if he could speak. He soothed her with his thoughts and hoped she got them.
–Just let it out, sweetheart. Let it go and I’ll take it in. I’ve got you and I’m not going anywhere.
Kori shook her head against his chest, shuddering in a breath.
**No. I do not need support. I never fall apart.
–Guess what, love? You’re doing it right now.
**No. I have to make it stop. No more blubbering like an idiot.
She hitched in another breath and hiccupped it back out. JT rested his cheek against the top of her head and smoothed his hand down her back.
–Cry ‘til your eyes dry up, sweet Cherri. You’ve always been able to cry to me. And you always will be.
**Josie?
–Yeah, babe?
“Get out of my head.” She gave a loud sniffle, trying in vain to hold back more tears.
He chuckled into her hair. “No way in hell, Kori.”
He expected a push, but to his astonishment, Kori didn’t close him out. She wept quietly into the terry cloth of his robe, her thoughts and emotions streaming through in a tangled mess. Guilt at not being there in the ambulance with him because it might have changed things, guilt at waiting too long to call the ambulance in the first place, guilt at taking the job with the band, guilt at all the travel, huge guilt and a large measure of shame over every aspect of her relationship with JT. Especially the sex. Guilt that Mark knew, and shame that he understood. So many regrets, so many what-ifs, too many if-onlies.
She cried and he held her until her tears soaked through the robe to his skin, all the while dragging his fingertips over her spine and murmuring into her hair. As her sobs gave way to sniffles and juddering breaths, the maelstrom of emotions slowed, leaving a few clear feelings with the rest being kicked to the corners or tucked back away in the shadows. The center of the storm had been guilt and it was still there, marching b
ack and forth in her head and trumpeting loudly. Thankfully, its minions of shame and remorse were missing. And standing in the wings trying to take the stage were her love, trust and understanding. JT knew he probably couldn’t get rid of the guilt entirely, but he intended to at least punch a few holes in it.
Pulling back slightly, he took her face in his hands, swiping the last of her tears away with his thumbs. Tilting her face up toward his, he brushed his lips over her swollen eyelids and the reddened tip of her nose. “Kori, Mark and I had a long talk on New Year’s Eve after the show. We’ve never talked about that night, when you found me kicking that groupie Tina out of my room and down the hall. That’s why I looked such a mess and was half-undressed. I had a huge headache by the time I left Mark. I went into my room without turning on the lights so my head wouldn’t explode, started taking off my clothes and found Tina naked in my bed.”
Kori finally looked up, her bloodshot eyes a bottomless turquoise he was afraid he’d get lost in before he could finish. “He told me that he knew I was in love with you, and was pretty sure you felt the same.” Her eyes widened and he felt the shame try to nudge its way back in. “He admitted that it hurt, but at the same time, he was glad that you wouldn’t be alone, and that the person you’d be busy not being alone with was the same one you’d known all your life. Me.”
She looked up toward the ceiling, tears threatening again. “He also promised to haunt me for eternity if my intentions were anything less than to marry you and make you happy for the rest of our lives.”
“He actually said that?” She looked back down and any trace of tears was gone. “Really?” A sad smile hinted at her lips.
JT nodded. “Yup. If I didn’t intend to marry you, he told me to back off now, while he could still comfort you. And if I didn’t let you go but I didn’t marry you, he’d spend his afterlife terrorizing me.” He tilted his head slightly and locked his eyes on hers. “I told him you took my heart when I was a boy, and that I’d be adrift without you.”
Kori’s eyes widened but she didn’t utter a word. JT sensed her hope and her heart battling with the guilt. So he pressed on.
Dream Me Off My Feet (Sex, Love, And Rock & Roll) Page 61
