Life of the Party (57 page)

After supper we
all took our drinks into the living room, sitting before the
crackling fire and the soft glow of the Christmas tree lights.
Everyone was relaxed and happy. I was excited too; I knew that
soon, I’d get to do some more heroin. It was so easy to just sneak
away and take care of myself, and then come back and continue on
with total bliss and happiness. My family didn’t even seem to
notice. It was perfect.

Just when I
thought the evening couldn’t get any better, the doorbell rang.

My heart leapt
into my throat at the noise. I had been hoping … it’d be just like
him to … I jumped up and ran to the door before anyone else could
even think to open it. Sure enough, there, standing in the cold
with a smirk upon his face, stood Grey.

I jumped into
his arms. He was by far the best Christmas present I could ever
have received. I kissed his face, every spot I could reach.

“Thank you,
thank you, thank you ….” I repeated in a whisper. He laughed at my
exuberance, wrapping his arms around me and twirling me around.

“Merry
Christmas.” He spoke into my ear.

“Uh … hey …
come on you two, come out of the cold,” my dad, having come to see
who was at the door, forced pleasantness into his voice and
motioned us back into the house. I grasped Grey’s hand and pulled
him forward as Dad shut out the cold winter breeze behind us. I
took his coat and hung it up in the hall closet.

It suddenly
felt very stiff in the living room; the change was almost tangible
compared to the relaxed atmosphere I had left it in. Marcy and Greg
sat up, wary, and my mom didn’t seem to know what to do. Dad sat
down by the fireplace, his expression blank, and he too seemed at a
loss for words.

Grey cleared
his throat. He looked gorgeous in a black collared shirt and dark
blue jeans, but was obviously uncomfortable as well. I seemed to be
the only one still completely at ease. Grey had come over to my
parents’, just for me, even knowing how awkward it would be … and
it meant the world. But I didn’t want it to be awkward. I was
suddenly determined to make this one of the best evenings ever, for
everyone involved. I knew my family could love Grey if they’d only
give him a chance, and it seemed tonight—for whatever reason—would
be the best time to try.

“You have a
lovely home, Mrs. Taylor.” Grey acknowledged.

“Thank you,
Grey.” Her answering smile was tight.

“Hey,
Mackenzie, uh … why don’t you go show Grey your present?” Dad
suggested then, to the concealed relief of everybody else. While we
were out of the room, they could have a few moments to compose
themselves, to get a handle on the situation. And hopefully think
of some topics of conversation.

“Yeah, sure.
Come see.” Still holding Grey’s hand, I smiled and pulled him
through the house, into the garage. It was better when we were
alone. We were both able to breathe again, to act naturally.

“You got a
car?” He was as incredulous as I had been, stepping into the
three-car garage, obvious surprised written on his face.

“Yeah … what do
you think?” I smiled, sweeping my hand over the auto in a motion
very akin to Vanna White. “Pretty, hey?”

“Nice ride.”
Grey smiled and leaned in closer to inspect it. “Does it have a
radio?”

“Yeah,
why?”

“No reason.
Just get in.”

“Okay.” I
grinned with curiosity and got into the driver’s side. Grey sat
down in the passenger seat and looked down at his watch a moment,
then started playing with the radio dials while I turned the key
back to accessory.

“Wow. Thank you
so much for coming.” I smiled up at him as he fiddled, completely
ecstatic. “You made my whole day.”

“Well, Bruce
Willis had already saved the day, a few times, actually … and, I
wanted to give you your Christmas present.” He winked slyly.

“But I thought
we agreed not to get things for each other.” I protested.

“It’s just
something little.”

“Okay …?”

“Just listen.”
He turned up the volume dial. After a few minutes of DJ prattle,
suddenly I recognized Grey’s velvet voice, along with the rest of
the band, coming to me in crystal clear audio from over the radio
waves.

“Oh, Grey!
That’s you, on the radio! Wow!” I hugged him. “How does it
feel?”

“Awesome.” Grey
frowned. His expression didn’t match his answer.

“It doesn’t
look too awesome.” I giggled.

He sighed.
“They’re playing the wrong song.”

“Oh.” I
listened for a moment, but I didn’t see what the big deal was. Who
cared what song was playing? “Come on, Grey. This is you, on the
radio. This is huge!”

“I know, but, I
wanted them to play … I thought the first single was going to be …
your song.”

“Oh.” It took
me a moment to realize what he was saying. “Wait … do you mean …
you recorded my song?”

His blue eyes
shone at me. “Yeah. That’s why we were at the studio for the extra
week.”

“Really?” Happy
tears stung my eyes. I stared up at Grey, amazed, completely
overwhelmed by his gift. “I still can’t believe you even wrote me a
song,” I smiled gloriously at him. “… and then to record it ….
Thank you.”

“It’s just the
first of many.” Grey shrugged. “And, if you can’t hear it on the
radio, I guess you’ll just have to listen to … this.” He pulled
something from his pocket then; it was square and flat and had a
picture of … him. And Zack, and Alex … and there was Lucas and
Jimmy … and cover art ….

“Your CD.” I
grabbed it from his hands. “They’re out now? Grey, this is awesome.
That’s you right there. Are there more pictures? Does it have the
lyrics …?”

Grey laughed at
my enthusiasm. He pulled me across the console and into his lap,
kissing my smiling lips. “You, Mackenzie, are one of a kind.”

“No, I’m not.
You are.” I replied seriously, gazing up at him. I placed my hands
on his dark, stubbled cheeks so he would understand the sincerity
of my words. “I’m so proud of you. Really.”

Grey smiled,
his cheeks reddening ever so slightly—but I could tell my words
made him happy. He ripped the plastic off the CD case.

“Do you want to
listen?”

“Of course.” I
nodded enthusiastically. Grey peered at the dashboard of my car a
moment, and then he chuckled to himself.

“What?” I
wondered.

“I think CD’s
were a little before your car’s time.” He tapped the cassette deck
in the dash face and smirked.

“Oh.” I hadn’t
realized my car was that old. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. We
can get you one of those adapters. But I guess this will have to
wait.” He put the CD back in its case and then snapped it shut.
“For later.”

“No it won’t.
Come on, I have the best idea.” Eagerly, I turned the key off and
opened up the door. “My parents have a stereo. Let’s go blow their
minds.”

Grey followed
hesitantly, unsure. “Um … somehow I doubt that our music is your
parents’ style. It’s a bit … heavy, don’t you think?”

“Oh, I’m sure
they can handle some shaking up.” I smiled and grasped his hand
again. “Seriously, they’ve been … really cool today. I don’t even
know how to explain it … but I think … I have a feeling that
they’re going to love your music. Like really love it too, not just
pretend.”

“You think so?”
He seemed sceptical, but there was no denying the hopefulness
there, apparent in his face. Despite everything, he really wanted
my family to like him. I could tell.

“I’d bet money
on it.”

“Okay then.
You’re on.”

I held up
Grey’s CD triumphantly as we rejoined my family in the living room.
He watched me, hanging back, unsure of the spotlight as I turned on
the stereo and put the disc in the tray.

“What’s this
Mackenzie?” Mom wondered.

“Grey’s CD.
It’s finally done.” I showed them all the case.

“Can I see
that?” Marcy asked, holding out her hands. I threw the jewel case
expertly into her clutch and she opened it up, flipping through the
booklet inside.

“So, what type
of music do you play?” Dad asked Grey.

“Uh … it’s hard
rock … I guess you could say. It’s not exactly seasonal.”

I giggled at
his description and then hit play. We sat back and listened as the
first song came on—chugging heavy guitars and screaming, thrashing
vocals. I looked over at Grey from the corner of my eye, and
smiled. He tried to keep his mouth straight, his features composed,
but as Zack wailed into a screaming guitar solo the laughter burst
out of him. I couldn’t help myself; I had to laugh as well.

It didn’t take
long before everyone was laughing, whether we were all in on the
same joke or not, I couldn’t tell. But it helped to ease the
tension in the room.

“It’s okay; we
don’t have to listen to it.” Grey offered. “It’s a bit heavy.”

“No, I like
it.” Dad insisted. “I used to know a thing or two about rock and
roll. Just ask Deb here.”

“Yeah, you were
a regular Paul McCartney.” Mom rolled her eyes, which set us off
laughing again. There was no way I could picture my dad—with his
straight-laced suits and ties—liking anything that resembled actual
rock and roll. He was a Simon and Garfunkel fan, through and
through. But it was nice that he was trying.

“We can’t stop
listening until you hear the best part.” I grinned. Grey cleared
his throat as I flipped to the last song on the CD. He crossed his
arms and leaned against the wall.

The music
started slowly, quiet, with just the gentle plunking of a piano and
the soft strumming of his guitar. As Grey’s warm, velvet voice
sounded through the speakers, I melted back into my chair, closing
my eyes and letting the sweet sounds of his voice and the words of
his lips sink deep into my heart.

“
Sitting
here in the dark, Mackenzie’s next to me.

She’s lying in
the moonlight, shining silver in the sheets.

And though it
pains me so, I know I have to go.

I have to leave
Mackenzie lying all alone.

Mackenzie, I
hope you miss me

When I’m gone,
when I’m gone.

I gotta go now,
but you need to know how

Much you’re
loved, how much you’re loved ….

In the dark
alone, now there’s only me.

I’m staring at
the moonlight shining silver in the streets.

The city lights
are twinkling, glowing like her eyes.

No matter where
I go, she’s always on my mind.

Mackenzie, I
hope you miss me,

When I’m gone,
when I’m gone.

I’m away now,
but you need to know how

Much you’re
loved, how much you’re loved ….”

The room was
struck with silence as the song slowly ebbed, the beautiful notes
fading softly away.

“Wow.” Marcy
was the first to speak, her voice awed, no louder than a whisper.
“That was really good.”

Mom’s eyes had
actual tears in them. She smiled at Grey. “That was beautiful.” She
nodded. “Really. Beautiful.”

I glanced over
at Grey. He accepted my family’s compliments with great aplomb, but
his blue eyes didn’t leave my face for a second—like my opinion was
the only one that mattered, the only one he really needed to
hear.

There was
nothing I could say to do it justice. Completely oblivious to the
family members surrounding us, I crossed the room and threw my arms
around his neck.

“Thank you.” I
whispered in his ear. “I love it.” And then, because that wasn’t
enough either, I kissed him deep and long, my hands around his
neck, my fingers twirling through his dark hair.

We stayed that
way, oblivious, until Greg cleared his throat uncomfortably. The
noise was enough to jolt us back to the present. I had totally
forgotten our surroundings, had totally forgotten everything but
Grey’s lips on mine. We broke away, sheepish, but no one seemed
appalled or annoyed by our affection. They looked at Grey, and then
they looked at me, and whatever they saw there made them actually
smile. Maybe it was the simple happiness that I could feel
radiating from me, shining like the lights on the Christmas tree.
Whatever it was, they seemed to approve. And then I knew, without a
doubt, that Grey had won over my parents. Grey had won over my
family, just like I knew he would. All he needed was a chance.

Nothing could
have made me happier. It was all so easy after that. Grey spotted
my as of yet unopened chess set and challenged Greg to a game. I
opened my mouth to stop him—Grey was setting himself up for a
slaughtering—but I held my tongue. Greg smiled at the challenge and
helped Grey set up the board on the coffee table.

I sat by Marcy,
who looked stunning in a white cowl neck sweater and the dangly
silver earrings I’d given her, and we watched our men play chess. I
didn’t understand a thing; I made up my mind to give Grey the chess
set as soon as we got home, because he seemed to be holding his own
against Greg—of all people—which was impressive to me. Mom and Dad
sat nearby, dad had an arm slung loosely over mom’s shoulders and
they looked very cozy, and happy, watching the game and laughing
whenever someone made a joke. It was very peaceful.

But I knew one
thing what would make it even better.

The first
symptoms of withdrawal were already hitting me. I’d been
distracted, with Grey’s arrival and the car and the CD and
everything, I hadn’t really noticed the severity of my craving. It
had my full attention now. I couldn’t ignore the sweat that broke
through my skin, the sudden weakness in my limbs. I couldn’t wait,
I didn’t want to wait. I wrapped an arm around myself, fidgeting
and uncomfortable. I needed to do some more heroin. And I needed to
do it now.

“Mackenzie, are
you okay?” Grey eyed me cautiously, instantly aware. He gave me a
knowing look.