Rock Bottom (39 page)
He laughed and hugged her. A tear streaked his cheek. “We both will. It’s perfect.”
“Three ‘perfects’ in one morning.”
“Three. Yeah.” He kissed her. “When can we go? Soon?”
She sniffed. “It’s probably about six. The pharmacy opens at nine.”
“A few hours. In the meantime, we can talk to your mom.”
“Or maybe we could sleep.” She wanted to nestle into him, feel his arms around him. And he’d been up all night. He needed to rest.
“Yeah.”
They walked back to the house, snuck inside. The bed creaked when she climbed in. He slipped off his jacket and shoes and pants, climbed in beside her.
She fell asleep, and awakened next to him.
It wasn’t a dream.
Oh, she had to pee, and felt parched. As much as she’d rather lie in his arms, she rose quietly and crept out, and then downstairs.
Her mom sat at the kitchen table. “I didn’t know we were expecting a guest.”
“Sorry, I didn’t know either. I really have to use the bathroom.”
“First check the bag on the counter.”
A pharmacy bag. “You went to town?” Grabbing the bag, she rushed to the bathroom and ripped open the package. Reading as fast as she could, she followed the instructions.
Holding the meter, she opened the door.
Her mom stiffened, then blinked back tears. Her mom always read her like an open book.
A happy sob escaped. She had to tell Jet. Jerry. She’d have to get used to calling him that.
Snores sounded from the bed. She sat on the edge and watched him. He’d driven all night looking for her. But he’d found more than her. She laid a hand on his arm.
* * * *
At her touch, his eyes fluttered open, and he struggled up to an elbow. “Is it time to go?”
She held up the meter. “It’s a plus.”
He glanced at it. “Plus? One?” As sure as if all the oxygen had been sucked from the room, his head swirled.
She grinned. “At least.”
With a whoop, he hugged her, kissed her, pulled her down to the pillow, smoothed her hair. “I love you, Billie.”
“This is too good to be real.”
“It’s just the start.” He pressed his lips to hers in the most perfect kiss he’d ever had.
He’d been right. The universe had waited to give them everything they wanted. And now he was ready for it. All of it.
The pearl-embroidered satin gown glowed in the late afternoon sunlight filtering through Billie’s bedroom curtain. “Do I look all right?”
Zinta’s smile contorted as her eyes welled. “You look beautiful.”
She held a hand to her stomach. “Not too much?”
“The baby bump’s hardly noticeable. It’s cute, in fact. You two are so cute, you make me want to puke. If he doted on you any more…” Zin hung out her tongue.
“I know. He’s been incredible.” Hardly leaving her side for the past month, since he’d arrived. When he left the farm, he brought Billie along. To New York to meet with Rob Hershey, his new manager, a Jersey guy who’d followed Jet’s career since the beginning. To Nashville for his first solo gig, playing with Neil Young, Springsteen and John Mellencamp to raise money for troubled American families. And to LA to meet with Chalmer, Kirk, Marlin and Steve to discuss the possibility of touring.
“I take it as a good sign the rest of the boys are here today?” Zin peered over Billie’s shoulder, adjusting her pearl headpiece with a short tulle train.
“Their meeting went really well. I’m hoping they’ll finally make amends, concentrate on making great music instead of fighting.” She pointedly glanced at Zin. “No interviews today. Any other day, but not today.”
Zin held up her hands. “I promise. But a full-blown reunion would mean touring for Jet.”
“I know. But it’s what he loves. And what he does--I’d never stand in the way of that.”
“You’re lucky. You know he’ll rush home as soon as he can.”
The door opened, and her mom leaned in. “How’s it going? Need anything? Something to drink?” As if anyone could hear, she murmured, “I make a mean mimosa. Not for you,” she said to Billie. “Yours will be plain orange juice.”
Zinta’s eyes widened. “A mimosa would be wonderful. Thank you.”
Halting, Billie’s mom gazed at her, then wrapped her arms around her. “Gorgeous, Willamina.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Ooo, wait--there’s a keeper.” Zin grabbed her digital and captured them cheek to cheek, glowing with happiness.
“I’ll be right back.” Mom exited.
Zinta fussed with the gown. “I love your mom. She’s so cool.”
“She’s been great. Having Jerry buy her farm and let her stay here made her so happy. And she loves him too. Sometimes I think she loves him more than me.”
“Never. I bet she can’t wait to be a grandmom, though.”
“I hope the house is finished by then. Not an actual tree house--but three stories, and lots of windows and surrounded by trees, so it’s like a grown-up playhouse.”
Zinta paused to grin. “You’re living the dream, kid.”
“I know.” It still felt surreal. But every day, waking up in bed with Jerry sleeping beside her, reminded her. “Anyway, being near Mom will be helpful when he’s on tour too. She offered to keep the baby if I wanted to meet him overnight sometimes.”
“You got the fairy-tale package. I’m so happy for you.”
A breathy laugh escaped. Billie woke up with that same thought every morning.
Mom returned with mimosas. “You’ll have to drink up. They’re almost ready for you.”
Zinta arched her brows. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.” Despite the whirlwind confusion of it all, she couldn’t wait. “Are you?”
“Absolutely.” Zin kissed Billie’s cheek. “See you out there.” Humming, she grabbed her champagne glass and floated to the door.
Billie turned. “Zin!”
“What?” Zinta’s smile faded, replaced with worry.
“I didn’t tell you how beautiful you look.”
Arms high, Zin twirled, her short red satin dress clinging to every curve. “Thank you. I do have good taste in bridesmaid dresses.” She winked and slipped out the door. Her singsong voice echoed down the stairs. “Don’t keep us waiting.”
“No.” She sat on the bed and gazed around her childhood bedroom. The room she’d shared with Jerry for six weeks. In the haze of early morning, his handsome face on the pillow seemed a dream. But then he’d awaken, see her and smile. Pull her to him. The memory drew her outside. No, she wouldn’t keep him waiting. Or herself.
When she went out the kitchen door, Tom hastily straightened from where he leaned on the banister. “You look beautiful, sis.” He held out his arm.
She linked her arm in his. “You clean up pretty nice yourself.”
Chalmer, Steve, Marlin and Kirk struck up an electrified version of “Here Comes the Bride.”
Billie and Tom descended the few steps to the white vinyl path strewn with rose petals. About ninety people rose from their chairs on either side of the carpeting.
At the end of the path, beneath the wide flower-garlanded archway, waited Jerry. Stunning in his tux, his eyes bright as he watched them approach, Adam’s apple bobbing when he gulped.
He seemed nervous. A good sign. He also appeared eager. And happy. Great signs.
When he returned her smile, warmth flushed through her. She couldn’t wait to begin the rest of her life with him.
* * * *
As she approached, Jet shifted his stance to prevent his legs from giving out. More fucking nervous than he’d been in his life. Meeting her gaze, he calmed. He’d never seen anyone so beautiful, glowing with happiness.
She and Tom passed the final row when the whir of a helicopter sounded beyond the trees. Not one but three approached in a line and circled over.
His euphoria deflated. “No.” Never would a camera follow the intimate details of their life. They’d agreed.
She hurried to him. “Oh no! We didn’t want any media.”
His openmouthed surprise turned to burning anger. “Someone must’ve found out and leaked it. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” She laid a hand on his chest. “Let’s give them a nice shot. Maybe they’ll leave. Kiss me.”
Could he get any luckier? She knew cameras would follow them everywhere from now on. “Gladly.” Encircling his arms around her, he pressed his lips to hers. For a moment, he forgot about the helicopters, and the family and friends who now pointed their cameras, capturing the moment.
Easing away, he murmured, “I love you.”
The helicopters hovered lower, long-range lenses pointed out.
“I love you too.” Her declaration of love ended in a squeal as her veil lifted, and the whirring blades sent a rush of wind that flattened the flowers, riffled his hair. Too much. It had to end. Now.
He called to his new manager. “Can you do something about them?”
Rob interrupted his cell phone call. “I reached a few people. They’re calling the dogs off now.”
Zinta leaned over Billie’s shoulder. “I really like your new manager, Jerry.”
Jerry grinned. “He’s a good guy. I hear he likes you too.” He’d listened to it all morning.
“Yes. The rehearsal dinner was a blast. I’m looking forward to the reception too.”
Rob glanced up and winked at Zinta.
Delight in her eyes, Billie gasped. “You didn’t tell me.”
Zin smoothed her hair. “You’ve had your hands full. And I didn’t want to jinx it. Do I look all right? Freakin’ paparazzi.” Zin appeared nervous enough to be serious.
“Beautiful.” Billie beamed at her friend.
The helicopters lifted away one by one and disappeared over the tree tops.
Jerry took her hand. “Sorry about that. But it’s bound to happen.”
She sighed. “Pseudo reality will intrude, I suppose.”
He rested his forehead against hers. “Never as good as our reality.”
“They’ll have to be content with wild speculation.”
He ran his hands across her back. “You know what Bonnie Raitt says.”
“Oh yeah. We’ll give ’em something to talk about.” Smiling, she pressed her lips to his.
Aware of every moment, the short ceremony etched in his memory. Jerry slid a platinum band on her ring finger. When she slipped the ring on his, he grasped her hand, eyes sparkling as he drew her close, not waiting for the minister to finish proclaiming them married.
Two long portable canopies shielded the buffet from the late day sun. After dinner, with the blue sky deepening, the band took up their instruments.
Jet joined them for a Rolling Stones song. When he sang about being in love, he finally felt the emotion in the lyrics. Gazing at Billie, he sang, “
Keep me happy
.” He pulled the guitar strap over his head. “Ah, hell. Take over, Chalmer. I have to dance with my wife.”
Chalmer picked up the tune and Jerry whisked Billie into his arms.
Laughing, she swayed her hips in time with him, in their own rhythm.
When the song ended, Billie called to Chalmer. “I have a request.”
“Anything.”
She smiled at Jet. “It’s a Paul McCartney song.”
“I think I know which one.” Chalmer muttered to the band, and they launched into “Jet.” Chalmer jogged over and shoved the cordless mic in her hand. “You should sing this one.”
Wide-eyed, Billie watched Chalmer return to the band, then turned to Jerry. “He’s right. I need to sing these lyrics.”
He sent her off with a kiss. Faking the ones she couldn’t remember, she knew the most important lines. Jerry beamed as Billie sang to him about wanting Jet to always love her. He sang along, replacing “Jet” with “Billie.”
When she finished, she rushed to him. Catching her in his arms, he kissed her, thinking no one could have scripted it better.
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Cate Masters has made beautiful central Pennsylvania her home for the past 20 years, but she’ll always be a Jersey girl at heart. A lover of all great writing, she aspires to entertain and enthrall with her own stories. Music has always had special meaning to Cate, so she loves to incorporate it into her books. Most days, she can be found in her lair, concocting a magical brew of contemporary, historical, fantasy/paranormal stories with her cat Chairman Maiow and dog Lily as company. Look for her at www.catemasters.com, http://catemasters.blogspot.com, and in strange nooks and far-flung corners of the web.
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