Sheet Music - A Rock 'n' Roll Love Story (60 page)

Just after the holidays, Annie received the final paperwork for her divorce.  It had been five months since she had seen Michael and still he remained close in her thoughts.  She cried the night she signed the papers, and again when they came back with his signature on them.  It was cold, sterile, and quicker than she expected.  His demeanor surprised and hurt her.  Since the day she had left him, he had made no attempt to contact her or inquire about Sammi.  He hadn’t protested any of the details to the divorce either.  It was as if he didn’t care.

The same week their divorce was filed in the Massachusetts court system, Annie and Lace received an invitation to present an award a the next American Music Award show to be held in New York City at Radio City Music Hall.  She also learned of a special tribute that would be given to Brian that same evening.  It would most certainly put Michael and Annie in the same room again.  For the first time, Michael would learn of his impending fatherhood in front of thousands.  By the time of the show, she would be eight months pregnant; large enough to make it impossible for even the most talented designers to hide.

The days preceding the music awards show were a blur of activity.  Her CD was complete and, in a matter of weeks, would be on the shelves of every music store in the city.  Her agent brought a box with him to the show and selectively handed them out like a proud papa passing out cigars.  It was a mad time in her life.  She was on the cusp of a new beginning.  One that both terrified and excited her.

Their presentation was scheduled to come on heels of Brian’s tribute and rather than sit in the audience, Annie choose to hide in the dressing room and watched the show unfold on the monitors that hung from the walls.  She gasped when she saw Michael sitting in the front row with his remaining band members.  Barbara sat to his left on the end of the aisle.

Michael’s face was colorless and his shoulders hung heavy.  Except for a deep purple silk shirt, he was a dressed completely in black and it seemed to fit his somber mood.  He looked agitated as if there were a thousand different places he’d rather be.  She wondered if Barbara was his date or if they were together as a group for Brian’s sake.  Then she cursed herself for caring.  When Brian’s tribute came, she was escorted to stage right with Lace to wait for their cue.

Emotions ran high and Michael was grateful for the dark sunglasses that hid his.  Several people gave memorial speeches while highlights of Brian’s career with Thrust flashed across an enormous screen behind the podium.  Through-out it all, Michael remained in his seat, hands tightly clasped, alcohol numbing his brain.  It was almost more than he could bear.

Images of his life with Brian played out before him in surreal fashion.  It was as if he were watching someone else’s life - not his.  It was too personal and he hated the fact it was being shared by all.  The tribute ended with a standing ovation that lasted an eternity.  Then Barbara rose to accept an award for Brian’s contribution to the music world.

A short time later, Annie, Taylor and Lacey appeared on stage to present the award for ‘Best New Rock Group’.  Seeing Annie glide across the stage made him slowly come to attention in his seat.  How long had it been, he thought, five or six months?  Taylor came out first followed by Lacey and then Annie.  He noticed the blond hair first, piled neatly on top of her head in a loose twist.  Her dress was pastel blue, the color of her eyes, and covered in sequins.  She positively glowed.

He watched her take a position beside the podium and had to bite his lip to prevent the gasp that wanted to escape his dry throat.  As his eyes scanned the length of her body, they came to an abrupt halt at her waistline.

“Jesus Christ,” he sighed, reaching for his forehead.

Her belly was once again swollen with life, he guessed around seven or eight months.  Using his fingers, he quickly tired to do the math in his aching head.  Was it his baby or perhaps someone she met after she left him?  He felt sick to his stomach.

“Looks like your little Princess has gotten herself into a ‘family way’ since leaving you,” Barbara chirped in his ear.

“Fuck you.”

It took all of his willpower to remain in his seat and not climb the stairs to the stage to speak to her.  But as soon as the show ended, he made his way backstage to find her.

A security guard stood vigil outside Annie’s dressing room.  When Michael attempted to enter, the man quickly stopped him.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” the guard asked.

“Inside,” Michael replied defiantly.

“I don’t think so, pal.”

Michael stepped into the guard's face.  “First of all, I'm not your
pal
.”

Annie heard the raised voices and opened the door in a sudden burst.  When she did she came face-to-face with Michael.  She felt the blood drain from her body.

The guard gave Michael a firm shove out of the doorway.  “Sorry to disturb you, Annie, but this clown thought he had clearance to walk right in to see you.”

“It's okay, Scott.  The
clown
in question is my ex-husband.”

“I’m aware of who he is but I wasn’t about to let him in until you gave your approval.”

Michael pushed his way past the guard and shut the door in the man’s face.  For the first time in months they were alone.  Annie moved to the make-up mirror and continued to pack her belongings into a bag.

“What can I do for you?” she asked without looking at him because she couldn’t.  His presence, as always, was too powerful for her to handle.  Inside she shook but outside she remained calm and angry.

“It was a nice tribute to Brian, don’t you think?” he asked, pushing his hands into his pockets.

As he spoke she could smell the stale booze on his breath.  She closed her eyes and sighed.  “Yes, it was,” she answered, zipping up her bag, then reluctantly she turned around to face him.

Slowly he removed his sunglasses and wiped at his eyes.  Up close, he looked exhausted and defeated.  He had tiny lines around his eyes and his face was drawn.  He looked old to her, as if he had somehow aged several years in a matter of months.  She watched his eyes canvas her body and stop at her belly.

“You’re…”

“Pregnant?” she answered quickly.

He nodded.

“Yes, I am.  That’s very perceptive of you, Michael.  And, I’ll save you the trouble of the guess work.  This baby was conceived in July - while you and I were still together.  So, congratulations!  You’re about to become a father again to another child that will probably never know you.”

His eyes raised to meet her.  “I never would have agreed to the divorce if I had known about this baby.”

“I didn’t know myself until after I filed the paperwork.”  She turned away from his penetrating eyes.  “Besides, it doesn’t matter.  I’m already raising Sammi by myself, what’s one more?”

“I didn’t want it to be like this.  I’m not the one that wanted it to end.”

“And I didn’t want a cheating drunk for a husband either!”

“Annie…”

“I’m done fighting with you.  Our divorce is final and I’ve got nothing left to say.”

Annie shifted toward the door.

“Will you call me when the baby is born?”

“No.  Have your lawyer call mine.  She’ll have all the information.”

“Can I see Sammi?”

Annie spun to face him.  “The agreement hasn’t changed, Michael.  As long as you continue to drink, you will not be allowed to see her or this new baby.”

Annie jerked the door open with her hand.  “Do yourself a favor and sign your ass into rehab.  After you get sober, have your lawyer call mine and we'll arrange visitation.  Until then, stay the hell out of my life and away from my children.”

He followed her to the door and called her name.  She stopped and walked back to him.  Then with a spiteful smile upon her flawless face she spoke.

“Go to hell.  Do you hear me?  Go to hell!”

Seconds later she was gone from his sight.  He was still standing there staring off into the distance when Bull came up beside him.

“What are you looking at?” he asked.

“Nothing,” he answered glumly.  “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah.  Lets go.”

Bull waited until they were seated in the back of the limousine before he pulled the CD from his coat pocket.

“Here.  Don’t say I never give you anything,” he said, handing Michael the plastic case.

“What’s this?”

“Take a look and see for yourself.”

Michael’s eyes focused on the cover and saw the naked woman with the guitar.  “Do I know her?” he asked.

Bull laughed.  “You should.”

Michael’s eyes fell back to the CD. This time he read the title and the artists name.  “Holy shit.  Where did you get this?”

“There was a box of them out by the production department back at the music hall.  I figured you’d want one and decided to help myself.”

Michael’s eyes were still glued to the cover art when the limousine stopped in front of his hotel.

“Are you okay?” Bull asked, giving Michael a nudge.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“Come on, I’ll take you upstairs.” Once inside the suite, Michael immediately went to the bar and grabbed a full bottle of whiskey as if it were a lifeline.  Then he removed the disc from its case and loaded it into the compact disc player by the television.

“Do you want me to stay?” Bull asked, concerned with Michael’s actions.

“No. I should probably listen to this by myself, don’t you think?  But thanks.”

“Okay.  Call if you need anything.”

Michael nodded and sat on the couch to remove his boots.  When he heard the door click shut, he hit the play button.  The room quickly filled with the sound of Annie’s voice.  It echoed inside his head and vibrated through his body.  He remembered some of the songs but most were completely new to him.

At times, she sounded like a wounded child and at other times her voice was filled with bitterness, anger and regret.  The lyrics were a perfect portrait to what she had been through – what
he
had put her through.

The impact of this personal glimpse into her soul hit him like a bus.  When his emotion surfaced it was unstoppable and all-consuming.  He openly grieved for his losses.  He cried for Annie and he wept for Brian; which was something he still hadn't done since his death.  His failures seemed to outnumber his successes.  His greatest achievements seemed worthless now. 
He
felt worthless.  The more he wallowed in misery, the deeper he slid into an abyss that had become his life.

When the liquor behind the bar was depleted, his body filled with rage.  He cursed everyone in his life.  He cursed himself.  With each regret he threw another glass at the wall.  When he ran out of glassware, he started with the furniture, turning over whatever was too heavy to throw.  Staggering from exhaustion and booze, he tripped over a broken leg of a coffee table and fell to the floor.  In the pre-dawn hours, Michael, bloodied from a gash on his forehead and several more cuts on his hands and arms, hit his proverbial rock-bottom. 

Several hours later, Bull entered the war zone that was once the living room of one of Trump Tower’s finest suites.  He rushed to Michael’s side and slowly lifted him upright.

“Jesus Christ!  What the hell did you do?”

Michael’s eyes rolled and tried to focus.

“Oh man, you’re bleeding,” Bull exhaled, visually searching the room for a phone.  “You’re going to need stitches.”

“No doctors,” Michael moaned.

Bull pulled Michael to his feet and dragged him into the bathroom.  With one arm holding Michael upright, he managed to clean the blood and glass off his boss’s face.

“You know something?  I’m getting tired of cleaning up your messes and it ain’t getting any better.”

He lifted Michael’s face and held it pinched between his fingers.  “You need help, man.  The kind I can’t give you.  Are you getting my drift?”

Michael nodded.

“Then what do you suppose we do?”

Michael closed his eyes.

“You’re not passing out again, man!  Now what do you think we should do?” he asked, shaking him awake.

“I need help,” Michael muttered softly.

“Finally, a rational thought comes from your mouth.  Where do you want to go?”

Michael sighed.  “As far away from here as I can get.”

“Fine.  I’ll take care of it.

Before the end of the day, Bull had Michael’s forehead stitched and then admitted into one of California’s finest rehab facilities.  It overlooked the city of Los Angles and was the best money could buy.  It would take sixty days for Michael to recover completely, physically and emotionally; and when his time was over, he vowed to take back control of his life and reclaim his family.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Annie patiently waited in a long line of cars at the Woods Hole ferry terminal for the ten o’clock steamship that would take her back to Martha’s Vineyard.  It was mid-June and the sun was already hot in the early morning sky.  Beside her, and safely secured in her car seat, was her two-month-old daughter, Angel.  Sammi sat in the backseat, eyes wide with enthusiasm for her next great adventure - a ferry ride to the island.

Annie recalled the tearful good-bye she had with Taylor the day before.  For such a long time, Taylor had been her life preserver, mentor and best friend.  Taylor knew more about her life than anyone except for Michael.  They shared great highs and extreme low points in their lives but it was time to move on and they both knew it was for the best.  Taylor was taking her band on tour in Europe for the summer and Annie wanted to slip into seclusion with her babies and immerse herself in motherhood.  It would be a new beginning.  A step she was nervous to take without Taylor’s watchful eye, but, nonetheless, it was necessary.

Now she sat unassumingly with her blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, a baseball cap pulled down over her brow and sunglasses to conceal her eyes.  Taking a car over on the ferry was a maneuver Michael never would have attempted, she sniffed with sarcasm, feeling bold that she would attempt such a venture.  She scolded herself for allowing the thought of him to enter her mind at all.  It bothered her to admit it, but even now, months after their divorce, she still felt as if she had something to prove to him.