Daylight
Chapter Forty-Five
Pet’s POV
That night, it was my turn to drive to the hotel we were staying in. It felt a little strange again, to think that we’d only known each other a few weeks; events were so compressed at Warped, and everything seemed to move so fast, that the short time Joe and I had known each other seemed a lot longer.
I didn’t know whether that was good or not, but I was willing to go with it.
It was a little bit further drive than I’d thought, but I’d looked up the hotel—a Marriott Courtyard in east-central Tucson—and from what I could see, it was great. At least when Peter had the guys stay at hotels, they were nice ones. This one was, anyway. No restaurant of its own, except for their breakfast room; but as we drove down the main drag, looking for South Williams Street, we saw lots of places close by.
My stomach growled, and I realized Joe had been really quiet almost the whole way.
“You okay?” I asked, glancing over in his direction.
“Hmmm?” he mumbled distractedly.
“I said, are you okay?”
He finally turned his head in my direction; he’d been looking out the window almost the whole way. The sun was getting lower, turning the sky and his skin golden. His eyes almost looked sort of a topaz color too. They looked so beautiful that it was too bad that they were kinda blank when he looked at me.
“Sorry, uh…what’d you say, Pet?”
I laughed, confusing the hell out of him. “What’s so funny?” he blurted out.
“You,” I told him. “I asked you like three times if you were okay, and you’re totally spaced out. What the hell are you thinking so hard about that you can’t even hear a simple question?”
He straightened up in his seat and forced his vision to the front of the car. “I was just…lookin’ at everything,” he said in a tone of wonder. “I forget, and I gotta keep remindin’ meself…it’s so bloody huge, this country.”
I shrugged. “I guess so, but I never really think about it. You should see where I come from, it’s really spread out, lots of beautiful countryside.”
“Where’s that again, Pet?” he wondered.
“Minnesota. We’ll be playing not too far from where I grew up when we get to that part of the tour.”
“Hmmm,” he said again. “And your family’s still there?”
“Uh, sure,” I replied, thinking, didn’t we already have this conversation? “Mom and Dad, my sister and brother. Sean’s in fifth grade; Frankie’s in high school. So yeah, they’re still there.”
He nodded and went back to looking out the window. What the hell was on his mind?
We pulled the car into the hotel driveway, and Joe took our bags into the lobby while I parked. Even though the outside air was cooling off a bit, it was still a relief to be in a nice frosty building.
When we got up to the room, Joe fell onto one of the beds like a tree that had just been cut down.
“Oof!” he grunted as he hit the mattress. “Oh, Pet,” he then groaned, “this is so bloody great…you go on ahead without me, just leave me here to die…on this wonderful bed….”
I cracked up.
Suddenly Joe was silent, laying still on the bed.
“Jesus, don’t you wanna eat?” I asked him, crawling onto the bed next to him and shaking his shoulder. His body was limp; shaking him was causing his head to roll around randomly. Otherwise, he was unresponsive, not even a twitch.
“Joe?” I was suddenly afraid. I knew he wasn’t sick or anything, but what if he really had passed out? I’d heard from Tom that Joe could fall asleep anytime, anywhere.
I sat back on my heels and started to get off the bed, but before I could, Joe’s arm shot out and pulled me on top of him. I wasn’t sure if I should be mad or amused.
“Don’t leave me,” he said in a small, pitiful voice that contrasted with how tightly he was holding me.
“I won’t…leave you…” I choked out, struggling, “…but I…can’t…breathe….”
He loosened his grip, but didn’t completely let go. “Shower first, or food? Choose,” he growled.
“Food,” I said firmly.
“Shower,” he replied.
“Food,” I repeated, “I’m starving.”
“But I need to bath,” he whined. “I smell.”
(He kinda did smell, but I didn’t care.) “Too bad. I must be fed, or severe consequences will occur,” I announced. “You can clean up later. It’s Arizona, people are hot, things get smelly. We can eat outside!”
He made a face, apparently thinking over that last remark, and finally let me go.
I rubbed my arms. “Did I hurt yeh, Pet? I’m sorry,” Joe said, sitting up.
“I’m okay,” I answered, “but just for that, I get the shower first when we come back.”
He groaned and fell backwards again.
Joe’s POV
I dunno if it’d surprise anyone that I lost the battle of clean vs. dinner.
We tidied up as best we could—remember, I warned her that I stank—and walked out into the fading sunlight to look for the restaurants they’d recommended at the front desk. Fortunately, we’d noticed loads of them on the way in, so we’d a good idea of where they were. The only question remained, what did we want to eat?
“What’re you in the mood for, Pet?”
She smiled. “Something…spicy.”
I did a once-over again of the boulevard. “We may be in the world capital of something spicy, luv. What’ll it be? Mexican? Japanese? Summat else?”
Pet laid a hand over her stomach. “I should probably take it easy—Tia and I had a big lunch about 11 am,” she commented.
“I’m sure yeh’ve worked it off by now,” I answered. “And where’d you go today?”
“We went to a mall in the northern part of the city,” she replied, scannin’ the horizon for food possibilities. “Great place, but a little too high-end for me. And we were so disappointed.”
“Oh, why?”
She grinned. “It was an expensive, upscale mall—with no Sephora.”
I was confused. “What’s that, then?”
Now she laughed. “A great place to buy makeup, perfume, stuff like that. Chicks dig it.”
“No doubt.”
We looked about for another minute. “Where to now?” I finally asked.
“Damn,” Pet replied, “God help me, I gotta have more Mexican. I just hope it doesn’t kill me—or you.”
I wasn’t too sure about that last bit, but decided not to ask. We held hands and walked to the Mexican place they’d recommended at the Courtyard.
Pet’s POV
After dinner, which I might add, was amazing, we wandered around, just checking out the lights and sounds of the city. Joe had his arm around my shoulder, keeping me close. It was interesting to watch him try to keep his walking pace close to mine, since I was so much shorter than he was. The end result was that we were walking very slowly, and most people attempting to walk by were giving us strange looks for blocking the sidewalk.
Finally we stopped at a corner. “How about we go in that place?” I asked, nodding at a bar not too far away. The sound of old-school R&B was pouring out of the doorway right then, and they had outside seating with plenty of tables available.
Joe hesitated briefly before answering. His eyes fixed on a point in the distance, not seeing anything in particular. I could tell he was listening intently, doing the same thing I was: making sure that they were playing one great song after another. When after a few minutes, the music we heard didn’t suck, he agreed, and we walked in.
An hour later, we were sitting in the beer garden, unable and unwilling to leave because the music was so good.
“I haven’t been in a place this great in forever,” I shouted to Joe, sitting across from me. “Bloody great, I know,” he yelled back.
I was nursing a Negro Modelo. I’d decided to have a beer to try and conquer the nerves that were starting to get the better of me. Taking a last swallow, I was about to suggest we get back to the hotel—and whatever awaited us there—when we heard the intro to “Tell It Like It Is.”
Joe’s eyes met mine. He leaned over the table and said into my ear, “Dance, luv?”
I nodded. He grabbed my hand and we joined the crowd already jamming the tiny dance floor. Hell, it was so small it looked like one you’d rent for a party.
Fortunately, that song isn’t one that requires a lot of room when you dance to it.
The melody is sweet; the singing is literally divine. It’s an all-time champ for Best Slow-Dance Song. But the lyrics are a warning:
If you want something to play with
Go and find yourself a toy
Baby, my time is too expensive
And I'm not a little boy
If you are serious
Don't play with my heart, it makes me furious
But if want me to love you
Then, baby, I will, girl, you know I will
Tell it like it is
Don't be ashamed to let your conscience be your guide
But I know deep down inside of me
I believe you love me, forget your foolish pride
Life is too short to have sorrow
You may be here today and gone tomorrow
You might as well get what you want
So go on and live, baby, go on and live
Tell it like it is….
I put my arms around Joe’s waist and rested my cheek against his shoulder as we danced. Yeah, I know, it was hot that night; it was maybe the warmest weather of the whole tour, and that’s saying a lot. But I could feel the heat burning between us right then out on that dance floor, making me feel like my head was gonna explode (in a good way).
I was thrumming with the music, the beat, the song itself; so much so that when the song ended, two and a half minutes and a lifetime later, and Joe asked if I wanted to go, all I could do was nod and let him lead me away.
That night, it was my turn to drive to the hotel we were staying in. It felt a little strange again, to think that we’d only known each other a few weeks; events were so compressed at Warped, and everything seemed to move so fast, that the short time Joe and I had known each other seemed a lot longer.
I didn’t know whether that was good or not, but I was willing to go with it.
It was a little bit further drive than I’d thought, but I’d looked up the hotel—a Marriott Courtyard in east-central Tucson—and from what I could see, it was great. At least when Peter had the guys stay at hotels, they were nice ones. This one was, anyway. No restaurant of its own, except for their breakfast room; but as we drove down the main drag, looking for South Williams Street, we saw lots of places close by.
My stomach growled, and I realized Joe had been really quiet almost the whole way.
“You okay?” I asked, glancing over in his direction.
“Hmmm?” he mumbled distractedly.
“I said, are you okay?”
He finally turned his head in my direction; he’d been looking out the window almost the whole way. The sun was getting lower, turning the sky and his skin golden. His eyes almost looked sort of a topaz color too. They looked so beautiful that it was too bad that they were kinda blank when he looked at me.
“Sorry, uh…what’d you say, Pet?”
I laughed, confusing the hell out of him. “What’s so funny?” he blurted out.
“You,” I told him. “I asked you like three times if you were okay, and you’re totally spaced out. What the hell are you thinking so hard about that you can’t even hear a simple question?”
He straightened up in his seat and forced his vision to the front of the car. “I was just…lookin’ at everything,” he said in a tone of wonder. “I forget, and I gotta keep remindin’ meself…it’s so bloody huge, this country.”
I shrugged. “I guess so, but I never really think about it. You should see where I come from, it’s really spread out, lots of beautiful countryside.”
“Where’s that again, Pet?” he wondered.
“Minnesota. We’ll be playing not too far from where I grew up when we get to that part of the tour.”
“Hmmm,” he said again. “And your family’s still there?”
“Uh, sure,” I replied, thinking, didn’t we already have this conversation? “Mom and Dad, my sister and brother. Sean’s in fifth grade; Frankie’s in high school. So yeah, they’re still there.”
He nodded and went back to looking out the window. What the hell was on his mind?
We pulled the car into the hotel driveway, and Joe took our bags into the lobby while I parked. Even though the outside air was cooling off a bit, it was still a relief to be in a nice frosty building.
When we got up to the room, Joe fell onto one of the beds like a tree that had just been cut down.
“Oof!” he grunted as he hit the mattress. “Oh, Pet,” he then groaned, “this is so bloody great…you go on ahead without me, just leave me here to die…on this wonderful bed….”
I cracked up.
Suddenly Joe was silent, laying still on the bed.
“Jesus, don’t you wanna eat?” I asked him, crawling onto the bed next to him and shaking his shoulder. His body was limp; shaking him was causing his head to roll around randomly. Otherwise, he was unresponsive, not even a twitch.
“Joe?” I was suddenly afraid. I knew he wasn’t sick or anything, but what if he really had passed out? I’d heard from Tom that Joe could fall asleep anytime, anywhere.
I sat back on my heels and started to get off the bed, but before I could, Joe’s arm shot out and pulled me on top of him. I wasn’t sure if I should be mad or amused.
“Don’t leave me,” he said in a small, pitiful voice that contrasted with how tightly he was holding me.
“I won’t…leave you…” I choked out, struggling, “…but I…can’t…breathe….”
He loosened his grip, but didn’t completely let go. “Shower first, or food? Choose,” he growled.
“Food,” I said firmly.
“Shower,” he replied.
“Food,” I repeated, “I’m starving.”
“But I need to bath,” he whined. “I smell.”
(He kinda did smell, but I didn’t care.) “Too bad. I must be fed, or severe consequences will occur,” I announced. “You can clean up later. It’s Arizona, people are hot, things get smelly. We can eat outside!”
He made a face, apparently thinking over that last remark, and finally let me go.
I rubbed my arms. “Did I hurt yeh, Pet? I’m sorry,” Joe said, sitting up.
“I’m okay,” I answered, “but just for that, I get the shower first when we come back.”
He groaned and fell backwards again.
Joe’s POV
I dunno if it’d surprise anyone that I lost the battle of clean vs. dinner.
We tidied up as best we could—remember, I warned her that I stank—and walked out into the fading sunlight to look for the restaurants they’d recommended at the front desk. Fortunately, we’d noticed loads of them on the way in, so we’d a good idea of where they were. The only question remained, what did we want to eat?
“What’re you in the mood for, Pet?”
She smiled. “Something…spicy.”
I did a once-over again of the boulevard. “We may be in the world capital of something spicy, luv. What’ll it be? Mexican? Japanese? Summat else?”
Pet laid a hand over her stomach. “I should probably take it easy—Tia and I had a big lunch about 11 am,” she commented.
“I’m sure yeh’ve worked it off by now,” I answered. “And where’d you go today?”
“We went to a mall in the northern part of the city,” she replied, scannin’ the horizon for food possibilities. “Great place, but a little too high-end for me. And we were so disappointed.”
“Oh, why?”
She grinned. “It was an expensive, upscale mall—with no Sephora.”
I was confused. “What’s that, then?”
Now she laughed. “A great place to buy makeup, perfume, stuff like that. Chicks dig it.”
“No doubt.”
We looked about for another minute. “Where to now?” I finally asked.
“Damn,” Pet replied, “God help me, I gotta have more Mexican. I just hope it doesn’t kill me—or you.”
I wasn’t too sure about that last bit, but decided not to ask. We held hands and walked to the Mexican place they’d recommended at the Courtyard.
Pet’s POV
After dinner, which I might add, was amazing, we wandered around, just checking out the lights and sounds of the city. Joe had his arm around my shoulder, keeping me close. It was interesting to watch him try to keep his walking pace close to mine, since I was so much shorter than he was. The end result was that we were walking very slowly, and most people attempting to walk by were giving us strange looks for blocking the sidewalk.
Finally we stopped at a corner. “How about we go in that place?” I asked, nodding at a bar not too far away. The sound of old-school R&B was pouring out of the doorway right then, and they had outside seating with plenty of tables available.
Joe hesitated briefly before answering. His eyes fixed on a point in the distance, not seeing anything in particular. I could tell he was listening intently, doing the same thing I was: making sure that they were playing one great song after another. When after a few minutes, the music we heard didn’t suck, he agreed, and we walked in.
An hour later, we were sitting in the beer garden, unable and unwilling to leave because the music was so good.
“I haven’t been in a place this great in forever,” I shouted to Joe, sitting across from me. “Bloody great, I know,” he yelled back.
I was nursing a Negro Modelo. I’d decided to have a beer to try and conquer the nerves that were starting to get the better of me. Taking a last swallow, I was about to suggest we get back to the hotel—and whatever awaited us there—when we heard the intro to “Tell It Like It Is.”
Joe’s eyes met mine. He leaned over the table and said into my ear, “Dance, luv?”
I nodded. He grabbed my hand and we joined the crowd already jamming the tiny dance floor. Hell, it was so small it looked like one you’d rent for a party.
Fortunately, that song isn’t one that requires a lot of room when you dance to it.
The melody is sweet; the singing is literally divine. It’s an all-time champ for Best Slow-Dance Song. But the lyrics are a warning:
If you want something to play with
Go and find yourself a toy
Baby, my time is too expensive
And I'm not a little boy
If you are serious
Don't play with my heart, it makes me furious
But if want me to love you
Then, baby, I will, girl, you know I will
Tell it like it is
Don't be ashamed to let your conscience be your guide
But I know deep down inside of me
I believe you love me, forget your foolish pride
Life is too short to have sorrow
You may be here today and gone tomorrow
You might as well get what you want
So go on and live, baby, go on and live
Tell it like it is….
I put my arms around Joe’s waist and rested my cheek against his shoulder as we danced. Yeah, I know, it was hot that night; it was maybe the warmest weather of the whole tour, and that’s saying a lot. But I could feel the heat burning between us right then out on that dance floor, making me feel like my head was gonna explode (in a good way).
I was thrumming with the music, the beat, the song itself; so much so that when the song ended, two and a half minutes and a lifetime later, and Joe asked if I wanted to go, all I could do was nod and let him lead me away.
♠ ♠ ♠
She lives!