Crimson and Clover (31 page)

After dinner, they sat on the deck and watched the sun set. As the glowing ball seemed to melt into the Pacific, Katie sighed and reached for his hand.

“I’m really glad you came,” she told him with sincerity. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too, little girl.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. With a smile, he released her and looked out at the ocean. “I can see why you came here. This is nice.”

“Yeah, it is. Peaceful for the most part.” Closing her eyes, Katie breathed in the fecund scent of the ocean, letting her lungs fill with smell of life. “What have you been up to?”

“Just finished my solo album. We recorded it at Ardent in Memphis.” Satisfaction was evident in his voice. “I do think it’ll do well. If nothing else, I had fun doing it.”

Katie felt a stab of irritation and opened her eyes to glance at him. “Well, bully for you, mate.”

“I was wrong, all right?” Adam’s gaze stayed fixed on the water. “I went about it all wrong and acted like a horse’s arse. Is that what you want to hear?”

“Not unless you mean it,” Katie huffed. “You’re not writing song lyrics here, you know.”

“Touché.” Adam raised his beer can but paused with it halfway to his lips. “I am sorry, though. Really.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not the one you need to apologize to.”

He took a drink and wiped his hand across his lips. “If I could find him, I would, okay?”

“Good luck with that,” Katie muttered.

“I think he’s back in England.”

“Bully for him, too, then.” Katie leaned back in the comfortable Adirondack chair and sighed. “Sorry for dumping on you.”

“It’s all right.” Adam grinned. “Let me have it. You never held back before, so go for it.”

Katie snorted. “You have just as much right to unload on me, too. I don’t think I ever apologized to you for busting up your friendship with Jay. So feel free to tear my head off.”

A sudden gust of wind blew Adam’s hair into his mouth and he sputtered on his answer. It broke the tension and they shared a laugh. Katie took his hand again and squeezed.

“I am sorry, Adam.”

“Let me tell you something, okay?” He put down the can and twisted in his chair to face her. “Much as I love the bloke, it wasn’t easy being Jay’s friend, even before you chose him over me.” He paused at her grimace and arched his eyebrows. “You did, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” Katie sighed. “Sorry about that, too.”

It was Adam’s turn to snort. “Hey, you don’t choose who you fall in love with, right? Nothing to be sorry about there. But it was always like that with Jay. Not that he ever tried to move in on my girlfriends,” he added as she shot a venomous glare at him. “That’s not the way he works. But he always had this … I don’t know, this presence about him that made people want to be near him. Even though he never did anything, I knew that any girl I was with would leave me in a heartbeat if Jay even thought about crooking his little finger their way.” He shrugged. “He knew how I felt about you and I think if I hadn’t lied to him about the way things were, he would’ve left you alone.”

“No, he wouldn’t.” Katie shook her head. “For one thing, I wouldn’t have let him. And for another, he fell in love with me. Like you said, you don’t choose that.”

A shadow of pain crossed Adam’s face. “Yeah, he did fall in love with you. That was a new development and I couldn’t get past it. At first I thought he was just with you to pay me back for lying, but it became clear really quickly that it was a lot more than that. I guess that’s when I really flipped out over it.”

“He chose me over you,” Katie whispered.

Adam nodded, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow. “I never thought about it like that, but you’re right. I lost both of you at the same time.” He gave her a half-smile. “No wonder I was a prick about it.”

Katie’s answering smile held no amusement. “You were a total jerk about it if you want to know. But don’t sweat it. It doesn’t appear he loves me anymore, so none of it matters now.”

After a few moments of deep silence broken only by the sound of the waves hitting the beach, Adam took a deep breath. “I don’t agree with that. I think he still loves you.”

“Very astute, Adam,” she snarled. “What was your first clue? The fact that he left me with no explanation? Or the fact that he’s stayed as far away from me as he could without even the courtesy of communication to let me know he’s still alive? Which one of those displays of devotion brought it all home to you?”

Adam gave her a level stare. “Do you still love him?”

“What does it matter?”

“It matters.” He didn’t blink.

“Why?” After a few moments of squirming under his fixed regard, she sighed. “Yes, I love him. If I didn’t, none of what he’s done would mean a damn to me.”

“Then quit sitting around feeling sorry for yourself and do something about it.”

Her mouth fell open with astonishment. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. So you don’t know exactly where he is, big deal. Make it your business to find out. If I’ve heard he’s in England, then you could hear it, too, if you took the time to dig your head out of your ass and listen.” Ignoring her look of shock, he continued. “I’m not being noble by any means. I still want you and if I thought there was the slimmest chance you were over Jay I’d stick around and try to get with you. I came out here to do just that because it seemed you’d given up on him. And if it seemed that way to me, what do you suppose Jay thinks?”

“I … you … ” Katie shook her head. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“Sometimes I think I must be.” He got to his feet and leaned over to kiss her hand. “So quit moping about and get with it. Because if you don’t I’m going to come back here and woo you to death.” He laughed under his breath. “Then Jay will kill us both and we’ll end up as just another rock tragedy. I don’t know about you, but that’s not the way I want to be remembered.” He touched her hair as he walked toward the house. “Think about it.”

Pale ale left a lot to be desired, especially when one craved a stiff shot of Jack Daniel’s, neat. That wasn’t an option, though. Jay no longer trusted himself to drink anything stronger than beer. One shot of whiskey would lead to twenty, and before he knew it, he’d be under the table. Beer was safe; since he wasn’t fond of the taste, he had no desire to go overboard.

He raised the glass and took a swallow, wiping the thin foam from his upper lip. The pub was filling with people searching for a hot bite or a cold pint, and Jay slouched lower in his chair. For almost half a year he’d tried to travel to places where he could stay out of the public eye, not that he was always successful. Two weeks ago he’d ventured into London and managed to avoid media attention, even though he couldn’t go completely incognito. Still, being in London had been surreal with too many people, too much noise. He’d been glad to leave, especially since there was nothing left for him there.

The small Scottish village in which he found himself wasn’t London by any means, but he was still wary of being found out. If it wasn’t for Adam’s farm just down the road Jay wouldn’t have been there at all.

It took a kind of courage Jay hadn’t had in quite some time to go to Adam’s house and knock on the door, only to be told by the caretaker Adam wasn’t in residence. Frustrated, Jay thanked the old man and went into the village where he checked into a small inn. He still wasn’t sure why he was hanging around. Probably because he couldn’t think of anywhere else to go.

Two women, still dressed in the conservative skirts and blouses suitable for an office, approached Jay’s corner and he drew further into the shadows. Jay breathed an inaudible sigh of relief when they didn’t even glance his way, and listened with half an ear to their pleasant Scots burr as they discussed which records to play on the jukebox. They deposited their coins into the machine and soon the pub was filled with the familiar guitar riff that began “Smoke on the Water.” The women made another selection before returning to their table, leaving Jay in the seclusion he wanted.

He took small sips of his beer, enjoying the Deep Purple tune. For the first time in longer than he cared to remember his hands itched to hold a guitar, to feel the strings bite into his fingers, to make music. There was no pressure to create anything new; he wasn’t even sure he
could
come up with new music. No, he just wanted to play, and play for a long time. He thought he might start with “Smoke on the Water
.
”

The Deep Purple song faded out and the next record clunked onto the turntable. He grimaced as he recognized the piano intro to “Without You.” He closed his eyes as if doing so would shut out the words that seemed aimed directly at him, as well as sight.

“Hell of a song, innit?”

Jay’s eyes popped open at the voice that overrode the music and saw Adam sitting opposite him with a sympathetic smile.

“Where’d you come from? Your caretaker told me you weren’t here.”

“I got in last night and figured from the description it was you who’d come ’round.” Adam stretched his legs in front of him and crossed his feet at the ankles. “So I came into town and started looking for you. I can’t believe you’re still using the name Ben Dover as a cover.”

Jay couldn’t help but laugh at Adam’s grin. “It was either that or Mike Hunt. Can’t let all those good names we used go to waste.”

Still grinning, Adam summoned a waitress and ordered a pint before turning back to Jay. “So, what brings you to Scotland?

Jay pinched the bridge of his nose. There were no words to articulate why he was there, so he side-stepped the question. “Where have you been?”

“Memphis and California, here and there.” Adam accepted a mug from the waitress and handed her a few crumpled bills. He took a long draught of the beer and sighed with pleasure before pinning Jay with a hard stare. “Where the bloody hell have you been, anyway?”

“Honestly, I don’t really remember.” With a deep feeling of thanksgiving, Jay heard the record come to an end. He was tired of having to talk over the music. “India for a time, then down in the Caribbean. I was in North Africa for a bit. Just here and there.”

Adam was still staring. “And did it help?”

Jay looked him in the eye. “Not until recently.”

After a moment, Adam nodded and picked up his mug again. They drank in silence for a bit and Jay felt his frazzled nerves start to calm. Adam’s appearing out of thin air had made him distinctly jumpy.

Adam’s beer was almost gone when he spoke again. “I’m guessing you didn’t come here because of the golf course.” Both men snorted with laughter, remembering their shared disdain of the game. “So I reckon we should probably talk. Come on, we’ll go to the farm.”

“I don’t want to barge in on Carlee,” Jay hedged. In fact, he’d do just about anything to avoid Adam’s unpleasant wife. And much as he’d like to see Samantha and Lily, he wasn’t in the mood to deal with children.

But Adam was shaking his head. “No worries, she’s not here.” He got to his feet and inclined his head toward the door.

The farmhouse hadn’t changed in the year since Jay had been there. Adam had installed a new kitchen and up-to-date plumbing when he’d bought it, but left the rest in its original rustic condition. Unlike Jay, Adam was enchanted with the thought of “roughing it” and accepted the drafty windows, the patchy roof and uncertain heat as charming and proof of his commonality with regular people. That was utter bullshit since a bottle of Adam’s shampoo would feed a family of four for a month, but Jay never tried to burst Adam’s bubble. If he wanted to act as if he didn’t have money, so be it.

At least the kitchen was warm and full of the smell of vegetable beef stew the caretaker’s wife left simmering on the cooker. Jay declined Adam’s offer of another beer and Adam turned back to the stove. In a few moments, the warm scent of coffee brewing mixed with the stew and made the kitchen a cozy oasis.

“Here you are.” Adam set a steaming bowl in front of Jay and took a seat across the table, plunking down his own bowl. “Eat up. You’ve lost a lot of weight.”

“Mm-hm,” Jay agreed, his mouth full of the most delicious stew he’d ever tasted. He swallowed and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “I’ll gain it all back now.”

“Oh.” Adam nodded. “That’s good, then. You’re clean?”

“I wasn’t hooked, Adam. I tried a lot of things, but I was never addicted. I did, however, develop quite a taste for alcohol in the past few months. I’m all right now, though.” His lips twisted in a wry smile at Adam’s questioning look. “And I’m staying that way.”

“I’m glad.” Adam’s voice was matter of fact.

“So am I.” Jay was making headway on his stew, but couldn’t ignore another aroma in the kitchen, faint, but still present under the beef broth and coffee smells. “Is it just me or do you smell buns?”

“I do!” Adam looked perplexed. “I’ve looked all over, though, and I can’t find any.”

“Did you check the oven?”

Adam looked exasperated. “She wouldn’t leave buns in the oven. They’d burn.”

Repressing a sigh, Jay shook his head. “I didn’t say the oven was on. But maybe she put them there to keep warm.” Adam’s exclamation of delight upon discovering a tray of fresh-baked buns made Jay grin. “You are the most inept person in the kitchen I’ve ever met.”

“Now that’s a case of the pot calling the kettle black,” Adam observed as he set the tray on the table between them. “You can’t boil water.”

“I do, however, know enough to put things in a gas-powered oven to keep them warm.” He dipped a bun into the stew and put it in his mouth, chewing with pleasure. “So when’s your family joining you?”

“They’re not.” Adam kept his eyes on his food. “Carlee and I are getting divorced.”

A number of responses popped into Jay’s head, including the observation it was about time, but as it didn’t seem appropriate, he kept silent. Adam added nothing and they devoted themselves to their food without further comment. They were on their second helping of stew when Adam remembered the coffee. Jay watched him pouring and grinned.

“I’m surprised you don’t have one of those new drip machines.”

“I do in London.” Adam handed Jay a hot cup. “But Mrs. Wilson won’t have one here, so we make do with that one. It’s the pot Katie gave me for Christmas in 1968.”