Authors: Cheryl Richards
Chapter
61
Saturday,
March 10th
Shopping
with Autumn for Spring’s wedding gift did little to get my mind off of Lloyd
and she knew it.
“Hey,
Sunny, he’ll come around. Stop worrying.”
“I
can’t Autumn. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’m going to the
Stone Toad tonight. I called around last night and found out his band is
playing there at eight. Want to come with me?”
“I
would but Alan’s home tonight. He’s been working the night shift, so I know
he’ll be in no mood to go out. What about Donna?”
“Donna will remind him of Sam.” I sighed. “I’ll go myself.
Better that way in case we make up.”
“That’s looking on the bright side,” she said smiling. “Come
on, we’ll go buy you a sexy outfit for tonight.”
At
seven-forty, dressed in my new emerald green satin blouse unbuttoned to show
cleavage and my black leather skirt that barely reached mid-thigh, I walked
into the Stone Toad after paying the ten-dollar cover charge. At least I knew
most of the cover charge would go to the band.
Being Saturday night, the tables were filled to capacity with
happy, cuddling couples. I managed to steer clear of the band’s table and took
a seat at the bar directly across from the stage, so I could watch the band
set-up. I recognized Lloyd’s black Fender Stratocaster on stage, but I did not
see him. I remembered him saying something about having a few drinks before
performing, so I assumed the guys were backstage tossing a few back.
Five
minutes later, I saw Fred coming towards the bar. He made eye contact with me, nodded,
but he did not come over to say ‘hi.’ Not a good sign. It meant he knew about
the breakup and blamed me. I concentrated on my drink until he left, wondering
what I expected to accomplish by being here. I found myself sympathizing with
Lauren and hoped I wasn’t as nutsy as her.
At
ten minutes to eight, Lloyd walked on stage and my heart fluttered. He looked
handsome as usual, in tight black jeans, a black graphics T-shirt, and black
and white Van sneakers. I watched him tune his guitar, test and adjust the
microphone and check the amplifiers. He walked over to Fred, who was sitting
behind his drum kit spinning his sticks and the two joked about something. Then
I saw Fred say something and nod in my direction and Lloyd turned around.
I
casually crossed my bare legs and his eyes locked on me. I felt a spark jump
between us, but he gave no indication that he knew I was there. He returned to
his conversation with Fred and my hopes for a reconciliation diminished.
The
rest of the band members were on stage now. The show was about to start. I
ordered a light beer for encouragement. An attractive man in his fifties with
graying temples offered to pay for it. I declined too politely and he moved in
closer. I told him I was married and he got friendlier. So I told him my
husband was the bouncer and he backed off.
Lloyd
began an intro to Foreigner’s “Cold as Ice” and while playing, he introduced
the band members each doing a little jam of their own. Rob, the last member in
the circle, introduced Lloyd as he had done the first time I saw the group
perform.
I
couldn’t help thinking the song was aimed at me. The first song and already I
was halfway through my beer. I needed to slow down. After paying the cover
charge, I only had two bucks left. I should have let slick pay for my drink,
before discouraging him.
It
hurt to be an outsider after once being part of the band’s inner circle. I
tried not to think about it, but it was difficult since the band’s table was
within my viewing area.
Deadly
Dosage was mixing it up with some late sixties songs tonight. The older crowd
was lapping it up and taking to the dance floor. The tunes were not exactly
danceable, but what the heck.
I was enjoying the music and my free beer courtesy of some
sandy blonde haired bloke with bad teeth. Thankfully, he was happy with a smile
and a finger wave.
On the last song before the break, Lloyd turned his back to
the crowd and signaled something to Fred. He began a long introduction to a
song that sounded familiar. As he took to center stage, fog rolled forward over
his feet and hazy purple and blue lights shone on him like moonlight.
Everyone’s attention zoomed in on him as he pulled and hammered the strings at
a phenomenal speed. It was the best I had ever seen him play and I wished I had
sat closer.
When he began singing, Rob took over lead on the guitar.
Lloyd looked straight at me and as he sung, I felt his voice drawing me closer
to him. I was hopelessly in love. Like the last time he sung for me, everyone
in the room disappeared and I only saw him. “
Somehow, some way…I know… I’ll
be beside you
,” he sang, “
To warm my heart and fill my soul
.”
He finished the song with a guitar solo. When he finished,
most of the audience, including me, gave him a standing ovation.
He
repeatedly thanked the audience, before announcing their band’s name, and
explaining they would be back after a short break. The guys put their
instruments down, psyched by the crowd’s reaction, and exited the stage. I
wanted so badly to be there at that table to enjoy the moment with them.
I
wanted to talk to Lloyd, yet I wasn’t brave enough to go to their table.
Rejection was hard enough without experiencing it in front of a live audience.
Eventually,
Lloyd made his way to the bar with Fred. They ignored me, so I took a final
swig of liquid confidence and jumped off the barstool. It was now or never. I
caught his arm as he was turning to go.
“Lloyd,
can I please talk to you a minute?” I asked nervously. He wasn’t surprised to
see me, so I knew he had seen me earlier.
“Yeah,
I suppose,” he replied. He said something to Fred, gesturing towards me. Fred
nodded and left with his beer in hand.
I
led him back to my barstool, where I had my coat draped over the seat. I gave a
little smile and received none in return. I hopped up on my seat trying not to
be discouraged.
“You
look pretty,” he stated more as a fact than as a compliment.
“Thanks.
I bought this outfit for tonight.”
He
took a swig of beer while his eyes studied my appearance from head to toe. His
eyes rested on my sparkly gold ankle bracelet. “How did you know we were
playing here tonight?” he asked placing his beer on the bar.
“Oh, I called around to find out what bands were playing
where.” When he didn’t comment, I continued. In a bold move, I took his hand in
mine.
“You were amazing, Lloyd. You brought the house down. I knew
you were good, but I’ve never seen you play the guitar like that. And when you
sang, so much emotion…wow! You took my breath away.”
For a moment, when he was staring into my eyes while I was
talking, I almost thought he was going to kiss me. Then the moment passed.
“Thanks,” he said as though he were bored with the
conversation and the company.
“That
song, I remember dancing to it. You told me it reminded you of me,” I said.
“It
did,” he said and downed some beer.
“Did?
As in past tense?” I asked sadly.
He
chose not to comment. Instead, he played with the braided leather wristband
tied around his left wrist of the hand I was holding. He twisted it back and
forth, as if he were a married man playing with his wedding band.
“Here alone?” he asked suddenly, glancing up at me. His
fingers absently moved from his wristband to my ankle bracelet.
“Yes.”
I swallowed my anxiety, and squeezed his hand tighter as his fingers touched my
skin. “Lloyd, I was hoping you might want to get together later. Maybe give
that makeup sex a try?”
His brow knitted and he closed his eyes. He inhaled deeply
before locking eyes with me. When he released my hand, I knew heartbreak was
coming.
“Sorry. Can’t,” he said, taking his beer off the bar.
“You
can’t or you don’t want to?” I asked in a quivering voice. I searched his eyes
for some small sign of affection.
He
cast his eyes downward, avoiding mine and tightened his lips. “Listen, I have
to go,” he said. “Thanks for coming.”
“Sure,”
I said standing up. “I have to go too.”
I grabbed my coat from the barstool and rudely pushed past
him and walked as quickly as I could for the door. I took a deep breath when I
got outside and when I reached the side of the building, the uncontrollable
sobbing started. I sat down on the cold, hard, sidewalk and pulled my knees
close to my chest. I put my head down and cried into my crossed arms.
Chapter
62
I heard
the sound of footsteps and then a hand on my shoulder.
“Sunny,
is that you? You walked right past me.”
I
looked up with tear-stained eyes at Nik who stood with a burning cigarette
between her long fingers, her nails painted black.
“What’s
wrong? I didn’t know you were here. Why weren’t you sitting with us?” she fired
the questions at me.
“Lloyd broke up with me last night,” I cried between sobs.
“I’m not wanted.”
She
took a long drag on her cigarette and blew out the smoke. She twisted her red
lips. “That explains it.”
“Explains what?” I asked irritated.
“Why Pills has been a jerk tonight. And why he played “Dreaming
”
when it wasn’t on the playlist. He played it for
you
.”
A glimmer of hope caused a break in my crying.
“Rob told me he freaked out when Pills began the intro. They
haven’t been practicing long and he was afraid he wasn’t going to pull it off.
It’s a difficult song.”
“They did an excellent job,” I said hoarsely. “But I still
think he hates me.”
Nik sighed. “Sunny, no offense, but I’ve known him way longer
than you. He planned to make up with you last night. What happened?”
“My old boyfriend was in my apartment when he came over.
Nothing’s going on between us, Nik. I broke up with him but Lloyd won’t believe
me.”
“Makes sense. Sunny, when Pills confidence is shattered, he
gets like this. I’ve seen it happen before. Let him work things out. Trust me.
He loves you a lot if he was willing to play that song tonight. Get up, Sunny,
you’re going back in there.”
I
looked at her dumbfounded. “Are you nuts? I’m going home.”
“No,
you are not,” she said stamping out her cigarette. “We’ll stop in the ladies
room first so you can fix your makeup. Pills is just having a temper tantrum.
He wants to make you hurt. Don’t let him. Sit at the band’s table with me.”
“That’s
asking for trouble, Nik. He doesn’t want me here,” I cried.
“I
don’t care what he wants. I want you here.”
I
still thought she was crazy but I got up and brushed off the back of my skirt.
I dug in my handbag for some tissues and came up empty.
“Here,”
she said handing me a small package of tissues.
I
wiped my nose and blotted my eyes. On shaky feet, I followed her back inside,
showing the bouncer my hand stamp.
When I
returned to the table with her, Lloyd stopped drinking and looked at Nik with a
mixture of emotions ending with frustration. He came over to me and pulled me
aside from the group.
“I
thought you were going home?”
“I
changed my mind. I paid ten dollars to get in here, so I want my money’s worth.
So I hope you don’t suck the second half of the set.”
I
saw a smile play at the corners of his mouth but he forced it away.
“Your
eyes are red. You were crying.”
Pride
kicked in. “No I wasn’t. I was outside smoking a joint. Always makes them red.”
He
looked at me with disbelief and then replied smartly, “Maybe you and Eric can
light one up after the show.”
“Great,”
I said. “He plays the guitar and sings too, right?”
Lloyd’s
eyes flickered dangerously and he walked away.
Sunny
one. Pills zip. I returned to the table feeling better with a small victory
under my belt. Nik handed me a beer and I took a gulp. I scoped out Eric
standing at the end of the table. Long, stringy, mousey brown hair, dangling
earring, pale blue eyes, pasty complexion, and crooked nose. Not enough alcohol
in me to flirt with him and I doubted any amount of libations would improve the
odds.
Every
once in a while I would catch Lloyd gazing in my direction and wondered if he
was wishing I would dry up and die. I couldn’t say I understood Nik’s reasoning
for having me join her at the band’s table. If Lloyd was pissed off before, I hardly
imagined my presence made things any better.
“Nik,
I feel as wanted as a fly on a birthday cake,” I complained into her ear. “I
think I should go.”
“I
know him, Sunny. Stop being so impatient.”
She
may as well have said stop breathing. It amounted to the same thing. Both were
out of my control. So I slammed the remainder of my beer down and minutes
later, had a good buzz going on which heightened my confidence.
“Hey,
Pills,” I yelled over. He sat at the corner of the table between Fred and Rob.
A diagonal line could be drawn between us.
He
turned and looked at me with a blank face.
“How
about singing “Street of Dreams
”
for me.”
He
clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes. “I don’t think so,” he said and turned
around to continue talking with Fred.
“Why?”
I asked, with cocky, drunken assurance. “Forget the lyrics?”