Rocked by Him (19 page)

So before I could sink any deeper into the empty pit consuming me, I called my mom. She answered, and she actually sounded a little happy. Apparently the new pills were really helping. Dad seemed more and more like his old self
every day, and he couldn't wait for me to come down for Christmas.

Mom hadn't told him about the money, choosing instead to keep that a secret.
Because if she had been difficult so force it on, dad would be impossible. He'd flush all his pills down the toilet and promise to never take any again for fear of stealing money from his own daughter.

We both laughed a little at the image. Dad had always been so stubborn, even if it ended up hurting him in the end.

So I promised at least three times to come down as soon as possible, then finally got off the phone. The timer on the screen said the conversation lasted just over seven minutes.

And I actually felt a little better. I had my course charted, my path picked. Now all I had to do was take it alone.

***

Over the course of the next three months, New York changed. Snow settled over the city like a blanket most nights, only to be turned into
a disgusting grey slurry on the sidewalks and roads the following day.

Work went on. I did slideshow after presentation after marketing campaign for various new plastic products from
Styrex, and I found that pushing myself deeply into these projects mostly numbed me from Bud's daily flirtations.

Lucinda and I even grabbed lunch every now and then, finally.

That emptiness inside me never quite went away. But I managed to make it smaller and not all-consuming.

How?

Well, The Icons really were up-and-coming. They had an okay website (I could have done a much better one) that detailed all their upcoming shows. It also had a section of choice photos from various gigs.

They'd even made an announcement of signing a major record deal. And it was a major deal. In this era of MP3s and instant music streaming, few bands got that sort of
treatment anymore.

They'd even played Club 54 twice since Drake and I split. I'd almost attended, going so far as to go out to flag a taxi down. But I didn't. Looking at him over the internet would have to do.

And listening to his music, of course. It had real emotion in it, I found. Listening to the studio recorded stuff wasn't as good as attending a live show and feeling that incredible energy, but I made do.

I didn't begrudge Drake his success. No, in some way I felt like I was at least a part of it. I couldn't look for too long at the pictures, though.
Seeing him performing, even in a still image, sent my thoughts down a tumbling path.

He had his life, and I had mine, and they no longer intersected. That was that. There was nothing I could do about it, no matter how badly.

Well, I could wait for Bud to die. Then I wouldn't have to worry about losing my job. But with my luck, he'd live forever, always finding some way to keep me close by.

***

"Seeing anyone?" Lucinda said, wiping a little green strip of lettuce from the corner of her mouth.

"No.
No one. Why?" I said, uncrossing my legs and re-crossing them the opposite way.

I tugged at my scarf. It was a deep red one, and went so well with my winter coat. Unfortunately, it was also itchy. But looks before function, right?

Lucinda and I sat at a little cafe two blocks down the street from the Madison Ave building where Styrex had its office. We'd been coming here a lot lately for lunch. They made great paninis and wraps, and their selection of teas wasn't too bad.

"Just curious..." Lucinda said.

But I knew that tone of voice. She had some ulterior motive. And the way to bait it from her was to pretend you weren't interested. So I used my spoon to fish out the bag of green tea with jasmine from my cup, squeezing it gently against the side so that it wouldn't drip too much.

My efforts were rewarded. Lucinda tapped her foot, the shiny black boot she wore making a sharp noise. She then looked anxiously out at the street, at all the pedestrians in their winter getups.

Finally, she leaned forward, the twinkle of excitement in her eye.

"Actually... I've got this friend. His name is Don. He works for
GeneTech on the floor right under ours. And Jenn, not to oversell it, but you guys would be so absolutely perfect for each other!"

Lucinda was always so sweet and nice, and she always had the best of intentions. This Don was the latest in a line of suitors Lucinda took it upon
herself to lead in procession before me.

Last week, it had been Viktor (with a "K") and three weeks ago, a Stan. They all sounded like nice guys, but I just never felt up to it.

"Thanks, Luci, but I'm too busy for all that right now."

It wasn't really a lie. I did have a few projects going at once. Though I'd really gotten into the swing of things and I knew I could get them done at work within the deadline without having to take anything home with me.

"You're too pretty to stay single!" Lucinda said. She put her sandwich down and grabbed my hand, knocking against my saucer and sending my tea sloshing. "I don't know exactly what happened, but I do know how Bud can be. You can date someone... you just have to make sure Bud never sees or finds out."

Lucinda finished by shooting a conspiratorial glance over her shoulder. The cafe was pretty busy, every seat taken. Dishes clinked, and the drone of conversation managed to drown out most of the noise from the street.

Some of her apprehension leaked into me, and I found myself scanning the faces of those around us. Why was that guy near the corner wearing his sunglasses inside? And did he think that ridiculous mustache made him look cool?

Surely Bud wouldn't have some private detective keeping tabs on us? I remembered the fear I felt about all this the day I'd found out Drake left. And I decided I wouldn't put it past our sleazy boss.

Lucinda had some horror stories of her own to tell, and her sharing them with me in the weeks following the breakup had really helped me through.

It turned out that basically any girl at the office Bud took a shining to
went through all this. As soon as he found out they had boyfriends, he gave them offers they couldn't refuse.

Lucinda was the best paid secretary in the whole company, apparently.

But no one could be watching us right then, could they? We were being ridiculous. In any case, I still leaned in conspiratorially, the hair on the back of my neck prickling as though grazed by unseen eyes.

"I really just can't. Maybe in a few more months, okay?" I squeezed Lucinda's fingers,
then withdrew my hand. I needed to drink more of my tea before either A: it got too cold or B: Lucinda managed to knock it over in her efforts to comfort me.

"I suppose... But let me know when you're back on the market. I could get you fixed up with someone great so fast!"

I knew she could, too. I knew if I wanted, I could be with someone right at that very moment. When we'd ordered, the baristo behind the counter with black hair and a chin to make a Greek statue weep had winked at me. He always smiled and flirted whenever we came in. But I never let it get beyond that.

It just felt wrong, as though I was betraying Drake's memory. And even I knew that didn't make much sense. With The Icons picking up so much steam, I knew that Drake probably had his pick of whatever women he wanted, and that he'd certainly forgotten about the quiet girl who'd helped him avoid a fine.

So we finished our lunch, chit-chatting about what movie to go see this weekend. The tea was a warm sensation in my stomach, and I hoped the heat would last me through the walk back to Styrex and its climate-controlled office.

Pretty much as soon as we stood, a couple guys in NYU jackets took our seats. We began weaving our way between the circular, bistro-style tables towards the door and the cold winter air beyond.

I almost didn't hear it, and I doubt I would have heard it if a woman in a long purple coat didn't suddenly push her chair back, making me dodge out of the way, too startled to be angry.

A familiar voice called down from above. I looked up and saw the fine grating of the speaker built into the ceiling.

Shock lanced down through me, pegging my feet to the floor as the song washed down over me.

"What? What is it?" Lucinda said. She came up beside me and looked up as well.

"That's Drake," I said, "That's him singing."

I knew his voice so well.
Probably even better than my own. I also knew the words to pretty much every one of The Icons' songs. But I didn't know this one. This one was new.

It was a song about sweet love like a freshly bloomed flower, and the bitterness it left behind when someone took that love away. It was about regret, and also about hope. The raw emotion emanating from Drake's voice, from the catchy guitar riff and the heavy bass underscoring it all really got to me.

"It's about me..." I said.

"That was the Drake you were talking about? Drake from
The Icons? You never told me that!" Lucinda said, "I love this song. They've been playing it all week. I woke up to it today! Don't you listen to the radio?"

Listening to the news every morning depressed me. So I found an alarm app for my phone that played a variety of natural noises instead. Today, I'd woken to the chirping of what my phone told me was a blue jay. I almost threw my cell out the window.

"Not if I can help it," I said.

"It's such a great song! Are you sure it's about you?" Lucinda said. She started humming the tune and
lip-syncing.

The song ended then, the instruments fading out to let Drake's final lyric, "Maybe someday I'll find you again," dissipate.

"And that's 'Remembering You' by The Icons. That tune's really climbing the charts...!" the DJ said. I stopped listening to him.

I licked my lips, my eyes searching the cafe for I knew not what. A sudden rush of hope filled me, then. Drake still felt something for me! That meant there was still a chance.
A chance for me to see him and set everything right.

"You okay, Jenn?" Lucinda
said, her concern for me breaking past her incredulity at Drake from my life and Drake from The Icons were the same person. She squeezed my arm.

"What? Yeah, I'm fine.
Actually... I think I'm going to take a half day. If Bud asks, will you tell him I suddenly felt sick or something?"

"I'll tell him something. Not that, though. He'll think you're pregnant,
then you'll never hear the end of it," Lucinda said, her lips pressing thinly.

"You're the best,
Luci!" I said. Then I hugged her. That got a few people turning their heads, but I didn't care. There was something I had to do.

"You just have to tell me everything that happens. Oh... And if you see him, Drake I mean, can you get him to sign something for me?" Lucinda said as I walked away.

Despite the lunch hour rush, I made it back to my apartment in okay time. I didn't even really pay attention to the strange smells that somehow lingered in the subway despite the cold.

Back in my apartment, I sat on the couch with my laptop perched on my knees. The Icons' site was in my favorites, and in just a few moments I was looking at their list of upcoming appearances.

It turned out they were playing Club 54 that night! It was serendipity. It had to be. It couldn't have been any more perfect!

A few clicks later, I bought a ticket with a backstage pass from Club 54's site and I heard my printer whine to life in the other room as I printed it off.

They weren't starting until 9 PM. I glanced at the clock, saw it was coming up to 2 PM. That left me only a few hours to wash myself and to figure out the perfect outfit, and to think of exactly what to say to Drake when I saw him.

I didn't really think about the logistics involved.
Like getting to see him in the first place. That was what the backstage pass was for. That was all I thought I needed. I assumed several things, like Drake wanting to see me, like Drake still being interested in me.

Pulling up YouTube, I found Remembering You and loaded it up. My crappy little speakers didn't really do the song justice, but I still managed to let myself get lost in Drake's music.

***

I left my apartment that evening with a pile of pants, shirts, dresses, and skirts on my bed. I'd found an amazing black dress I couldn't even remember buying that would have been perfect if it wasn't for the weather.

But then I recalled the way the people had dressed the first and only time I'd been to Club 54. I settled for a pair of blue jeans that I'd had in college. They were torn in the knees, and the blue was so washed out it looked almost grey. With that, I pulled on a black tee with a V-neck, and over that a nice leather jacket cutoff at the waist. It would be cold, but I looked good.

Unwilling to brave the subway, and wanting to get there faster, I opted for a cab. New York looked so amazing at night. Especially in the winter, as I'd been observing for a bit now. The chill seemed to bring
clarity to the air, sharpening everything, making it all somehow more real.