Songs Unfinished Page 13

  Before Jaymi could respond, they were interrupted by a knock on the apartment door. Jaymi shrugged, indicating she wasn’t expecting anyone, and left to answer it. Shawn followed.

  The words good morning were barely out of Jaymi’s mouth when Nikki strolled past them and sat down at the piano. “Hey, listen to this, will you?” she said, as she began banging out chords on the keyboard. “I’ve been working on it all morning and I can’t seem to get this one part right. You have to help me.”

  Jaymi rubbed her face with her hands as she let out a big sigh. “We’re rehearsing tonight, can’t it wait till then?”

  Nikki spun around on the bench. “You sick or something? It’s after noon and you’re not even dressed.”

  “I’ll put on some coffee. Would you like some, Nikki?” asked Shawn.

  Nikki scrutinized her boxers and sweatshirt, and then turned back to Jaymi with a glare, which Jaymi returned in full.

  Shawn maintained an innocent front, while she inwardly gloated over Nikki’s assumptions.

  Nikki swiped her song sheet off the piano and stood up. “No, thanks. You’re right, Jaymi, we can work on this tonight.” She let herself out.

  “What’s with her?” asked Shawn, as Jaymi collapsed into a kitchen chair.

  “Same shit, different day,” Jaymi muttered.

  Shawn placed a steaming mug in front of her and then went about cooking eggs and toast. “She has a problem with you dating, doesn’t she?”

  “It’s none of her damn business.”

  “Yeah, well every chance she gets, Nikki makes it quite clear that you’re determined to stay single and focus on your career.”

  Jaymi got up to pour juice and keep an eye on the toast. “Determined to focus on my career, yes, but as far as the single thing goes, to be honest, I haven’t stayed single on purpose. The timing just hasn’t been right. I needed time to get over Peach. At the same time I was dealing with that, my mother was ill. Then I had to deal with her passing away.” Her voice grew tight. “I’ve really needed this time for myself.”

  She buttered the toast as Shawn served the eggs. They sat and ate quietly, without much eye contact. They finished, and when Shawn got up to do the dishes, the silence was thick in the room, like a third person just waiting for an opening.

  “Shawn, to be honest, it’s very tempting to jump headfirst into a relationship. But I’d like for us to get to know each other better before we let this go any further. And I know that must sound hypocritical right now, because I know that I’m the one who initiated things last night—”

  “Alcohol can do that.” Shawn’s pain was evident in her hurt tone.

  Jaymi walked over to her, and when Shawn’s gaze remained down, staring into the sink, Jaymi touched her hand to Shawn’s cheek and gently turned her face.

  “Alcohol had nothing to do with it. Last night would have happened either way. I’m sorry. I need more time. And I’m afraid if I don’t take it, I’ll just repeat past mistakes and you’ll end up getting hurt.”

  Shawn pulled the drain plug and dried her hands. “I’ll get hurt? Jaymi, I’m the one worried about hurting you.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Because I’ve never been in a serious relationship before. The longest I’ve ever lasted with someone was three months, and that was with my first girlfriend in high school. I’ve never even tried being in a relationship. I can be wicked impulsive when it comes to women. I just act and don’t think. And not that it’s bad to just go with your heart, but I think I’ve finally smartened up and realized you need to use your head, too. See, that’s where we’re different, and I think maybe it’s a good thing. Because we can learn from each other.

  “I’ve changed so much lately. You know, living on the streets really opened my eyes and made me realize that I had to start making better choices, or I wasn’t going to survive. I thought the only person I had left in this world was my aunt Betty, and she’s gone. I wanted to die, Jaymi. Seriously. Wanted. To. Die. You might think I’m bullshitting you, but I believe it saved my life when I heard you on the radio that night. Because something in my gut told me if I could find you, you wouldn’t turn me away. And maybe, just maybe, I could find something to live for again. And I have.

  “Since I’ve been here I’ve done nothing but think—about everything. My life, my health, my music, my career. You. I thought about how grateful I am that my father is such a bastard and wouldn’t let me stay with him when I got back here. I’ve thought about how lucky I am that you live over a barn and I can indulge in my other love and take care of those beautiful horses. I’ve thought about how grateful I am for all you’ve done for me. You helped me find a job and you’ve supported me musically, and you’ve let me jam with Passion Play, and last night…last night that open mike fired me up so much! And to come home with you and spend the night together the way we did. I’ve thought about you and how badly I didn’t want to make mistakes with you either. You say you don’t want to repeat mistakes? Well, neither do I.” She ran out of words, feeling emptied and raw.

  “Shawn,” Jaymi finally said, “do you think last night was a mistake?”

  The sink gurgled as it swallowed the remaining dishwater.

  When she finally spoke, it was quiet and genuine. “Only if it’s ruined our friendship, because that’s the one thing I don’t think I can live without right now. And even if that’s all we ever are, it’s still a hell of a lot, and I’d be okay with that.”

  “I don’t regret what happened.” Jaymi spoke quietly. “But I do need you to be patient with me. It would be irresponsible of me to commit to a relationship right now. With you or anyone else. But I’m not a one-night stand kind of gal, you know what I mean? Don’t get me wrong—last night was really special and I do care about you, Shawn, but—”

  “But we can’t get involved. I understand. You have nothing to be sorry about. Last night was as much my doing as yours. I’m sorry, too.”

  “So we’re okay?”

  “Yeah, we’re okay. No pressure, I promise.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  Shawn smiled. “So, I guess that means no sex tonight, either.”

  “You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”

  “Oh, all right. Patience it is, then.”

  When Jaymi left the kitchen to shower and dress, Shawn meandered into the living room. She sipped her coffee and took in her surroundings. Afraid of getting ahead of herself, she fought the inclination to consider this place her new home. She had no idea whether she had a future with Jaymi or not. Being in a relationship would be taking everything to a new level of unexplored territory. Gone would be the days of casual sex and being on her own. It meant nothing less than a mature and serious commitment. All or nothing.

  Fear crept up her spine in a way she had never felt before. How was she going to live up to those expectations? The only thing she knew about being in a relationship dated back to her high school days with Mel when she had first come out of the closet. That was no comparison to the magnitude of what she would be entering into with Jaymi.

  For the first time since she’d arrived, Shawn took a good look at the contents of the large bookcase that took up most of the wall that separated the living room and kitchen. Aunt Betty once told her you could tell a lot about a person by their book collection. Shawn thought shamefully of her single photo album, one book on songwriting, and twenty or so paperback songbooks stuffed into the threadbare duffel bag on her bedroom floor. Not surprisingly, Jaymi’s books were as organized as her CD and record collections, grouped by genre and, in the case of fiction, alphabetized by author.

  Paperbacks filled the top two shelves. At least half were lesbian fiction, but there was a wonderful mixture of mysteries, young adult, and series collections. There were also old childhood favorites that she had saved—many of which were collections of comic strips, such as Peanuts, Garfield, and The Family Circus.

  The next two shelves were all hardco
vers. There were a few coffee-table books about the Red Sox. Martin Luther King Jr., Eleanor Roosevelt, Abraham Lincoln, John Lennon, and Melissa Etheridge were among the biographies. She had also kept many of her college textbooks. Most were from her music studies, but there were other subjects mixed in, including psychology, philosophy, Greek mythology, world history, and geography. Suddenly Shawn felt utterly ignorant. She had barely managed to graduate from high school. Jaymi had a BA and interests in a wide variety of subjects to boot.

  On one side of the bottom shelf were two neat stacks of music magazines and four large scrapbooks on top of a pile of newspapers. On the other side stood high school and college yearbooks and a row of seven or eight photo albums, all arranged chronologically.

  Curious, Shawn withdrew the oldest photo album and opened it to the first page. She beamed when she saw, in black and white, the beautiful, pudgy-faced baby grinning back at her. She slid the top entry from its sleeve and flipped it over. On the back, in what she assumed was Jaymi’s mother’s handwriting: Jaymi Lynn, one month old.

  Shawn jumped slightly when Jaymi appeared in the doorway. “Haven’t changed much, have I?”

  Shawn grinned, feeling like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “You’ve only grown more beautiful.”

  Jaymi ran a hand through Shawn’s hair and she could smell Jaymi’s clean scent, making her pulse race. Jaymi leaned in and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. “You are not making this easy, you know.”

  “I thought we agreed to take things slowly?” Shawn said, stepping back and sliding the album back into its slot.

  “Yeah, well, tell my hormones that.”

  Shawn let out a frustrated groan. “Just get outta here and go to rehearsal before—”

  “All right, all right. I’m going.” Jaymi disappeared around the corner to the music room to get her guitars. A moment later, she came back through and said, “If you see anything in there you’d like to look at or read, feel free.” She then added with a grin, “But if you tease me about my hair in my high school pictures, you’re in big trouble, missy.”

  Shawn laughed. “Sorry—can’t promise that.”

  “Fine. I guess that is asking a lot.” Jaymi hesitated, and Shawn wondered if she was fighting the temptation to kiss her good-bye.

  “You’re going to be late.”

  “Yeah. Right. I’ll see you later.”

  “Okay.”

  Shawn waited for the sound of her exit and resumed perusing. She pulled out the scrapbooks, which Jaymi must have started filling as a child. There were crayon doodles of singers and guitars and rock bands. There were album cover designs. There were spiral-bound notebook pages with song lyrics written in pencil in the whimsical handwriting of a child. There were newspaper clippings and magazine photos of her musical idols. There were picture advertisements for guitars that Shawn was sure Jaymi’d coveted and had most likely begged her parents for as birthday or Christmas presents. Shawn had done the same thing. I bet Jaymi had better luck with that than I did.

  The most recent scrapbook chronicled Jaymi’s college years and her career with Passion Play. Everything from college recitals, to a byline mention in a list of entertainers performing at a local craft festival, to local club dates, to participation in benefit shows, to promotional photos, to the interview in Happenings that Devin wrote. There were also numerous photos of the band, both onstage and random candid shots. Shawn recognized Sara and LaKeisha in some shots taken at a party.

  Shawn smiled deeply and fought a sting of jealousy. If only her career had gone as well. She gently reminded herself that it didn’t matter now—she was on the right track, and she wasn’t going to let the past deter her any longer.

  She laid the scrapbook back in its place and checked the time. Maybe she’d peek at a few more photo albums for the hell of it, though she did not want to linger too long with them. She needed to get to work in the barn. Her heart warmed as she imagined looking through them together with Jaymi, Jaymi reminiscing and filling in the blanks of the when, where, and who for every picture. The prospect of learning everything she could about Jaymi engulfed her with an excitement about the future she had never felt before.

  She skimmed quickly through the photo albums, randomly opening to three or four pages in each. When she got to the high school years, she squelched a chuckle. Nice do. She bet every gay girl in school had had an enormous crush on Jaymi.

  She spent more time with the last album—Jaymi’s college years and beyond. Filled with a mix of curiosity and dread, she went through page by page, scanning the faces, recognizing Nikki and Kay. About midway through, there were gaps. Random empty sleeves. Not one photo of Jaymi with another woman other than her bandmates or friends. Apparently, Jaymi’s sentimental side reached its limit when it came to ex-lovers.

  Shawn replaced the album on the shelf and wondered: Will there ever be a picture of me in there?

  *

  Jaymi arrived uncharacteristically late for rehearsal, though only by ten minutes, which by her own standards was unacceptable. Normally she looked forward to practice, but today she walked in feeling indignant and defensive. During the drive she’d wished she were lying in Shawn’s arms rather than driving to practice, and that thought alone made her cranky.

  Today’s rehearsal was of particular importance, though. They had the first of four booked gigs at a popular club in Boston tomorrow night. They’d played there twice last year, and those performances had drawn the attention of a local independent station known for showcasing unsigned New England artists. The station had been playing their songs ever since.

  Brian, in addition to his skills on drums, was also the mastermind creator and manager of the band’s website. He’d set up a live chat session with the band on the site for the day after the show, and based on RSVPs, they were anticipating a large crowd. Though her bandmates were looking forward to it, Jaymi was dreading it. She had always been fiercely protective of her privacy, despite knowing that the group needed the publicity. She had terrible nightmares about the invasive treatment celebrities received from tabloid magazines.

  She shook off the cold as she made her way downstairs, bracing herself for the attitude and teasing she was sure to get from Nikki after their awkward encounter earlier. She apologized for keeping everyone waiting.

  “No need to be sorry.” Kay shrugged. “For God’s sake, you’re the one that’s always here first.”

  “Well, looks like we can get started now, since Her Highness has decided to grace us with her presence,” Nikki said as she descended the stairs.

  “Stuff it, Nikki.” Jaymi knelt on the floor and opened her guitar case and Nikki cornered her.

  “Ooh, a little testy, are we? I would think you’d be on cloud nine. After all, it’s not every day the princess of pure gets laid.”

  Jaymi sensed the withheld gasps of surprise from Kay and Brian and shot up in front of Nikki. “What did you just say?”

  Nikki smiled widely, then feigned a look of apology. “Oh, I’m sorry. Was I not supposed to say anything? Or maybe she sucked in bed and that’s why you’re so tense. Sexual frustration is an awful thing, isn’t it?”

  For the first time in her life, Jaymi felt an uncontrollable surge of anger overcome her. The others watched in amazement when Jaymi grabbed Nikki by the shirt and got within inches of her face.

  “What goes on between me and Shawn is none of your fucking business. I’ve had it with you and your bullshit! I’m sick of your disrespect, and your drinking. You strut around like you’re God’s gift to women and fuck anything that feeds your overgrown ego. You think just because you can sing and prance around onstage that makes it okay to treat people like shit? What fucking right do you have to call me out on who I sleep with?”

  Kay and Brian managed to pull Jaymi away and direct her to the couch on the other side of the room. Nikki brushed herself off, shaking her shirt back into place and trying to finger-comb her gelled hair. She was obviously trying to appear c
alm, but her flushed face and shaking hand betrayed her. Jaymi sat sandwiched on the couch between Kay and Brian, each with an arm around her, and she finally began to calm down.

  Nikki glared at the threesome, pursed her lips, and nodded. “I can see how I rank around here. Jaymi assaults me, but let’s not comfort Nikki. It’s poor Jaymi. It’s okay. I’m fine. Not that any of you gives a shit.”

  Jaymi freed herself and walked over to Nikki. “I’m sorry. I lost it, I know. But what do you expect, huh? How many times do you think you can taunt me and treat me that way and think it’s okay? It hurts me, Nikki. I thought we were friends. And I don’t understand it. I don’t understand why you’re so bothered by my friendship with Shawn—which, by the way, that’s all it is. What you assumed happened last night never did, and even if it had, what difference does it make? What’s it to you? You should know by now that the band is my number one priority. Nothing, not even a girlfriend, if I had one, is going to change that. Can’t you have a little faith in me? Can’t you have just a little confidence in the person I’ve grown into over the past few years?”

  Nikki’s expression softened and she dropped her gaze to the floor. For the first time in years, Jaymi saw the warmhearted friend she had come to know in college.

  “I’m sorry, Jaymi.”

  “Nikki,” Jaymi said, “you’ve changed. I mean, yes, you’ve always been a little cocky, and that confidence is a big reason why you’ve helped us become so successful. But a slice of humble pie would do you a world of good.”

  “Hey, you can’t deny I’m just as much a driving force behind our success as you—”

  “I’m not saying you aren’t. And”—she motioned to the other members of Passion Play—“so are you two. But lately, when we’re not onstage, it just hasn’t been fun, and it’s because of you. You’ve become unbearable. Because, honestly, Nik, if your head has swollen this much with the little success we’ve seen so far, I don’t think I can bear seeing it get any worse if the band really starts to take off. It’ll destroy us, and it’ll make for a very bittersweet career. And that’s not the career I want.”