Chapter 25
Written at 9:18 a.m. on 2004-11-23
CHAPTER 25
For a month after we talked all night, we were polite to each other but didn�t really have another talk like the one we had. I wanted to talk to him more. I was fascinated by him, actually. It was very disconcerting.
I continued my rehab and felt a little bit better everyday. However, I was really starting to feel a little stir crazy in my surroundings. I still had more than 4 months to go here, and it drove insane thinking about what I was going to do for that long. There was only so much TV I could watch.
When I did watch TV, I learned the heavy metal world was still going on without me. However, it was losing a lot of wind in its sails. A new kind of music, which seemed to originate in Seattle, was climbing up the charts and causing mild hysteria among those who just didn�t get heavy metal. It was fascinating to watch � almost like a train wreck. I couldn�t look away.
Pistol Whipped, however, was obviously an enigma. The band couldn�t fail, no matter how hard they tried. Gabriel was just a magnetic centerpiece, and the whole world reacted to him. He could do no wrong in the world�s eyes, and sometimes it would drive me crazy that he was virtually a saint in the media. �Superstar does the right thing!� The newspapers still screamed. Yes, he did the right thing, I get that. A part of me still didn�t understand, though. A part of me wondered if he ever missed me. There was a real love between us once. We really understood each other. I knew he was happy with his new life, but I also knew that what we had wasn�t so bad, either.
One day, when I was bored out of my mind, I came outside to see Joe mowing the spacious grass.
�Can I help?� I yelled.
�What?� He yelled back.
�I want to help!�
He put me to work on planting flowers in dirty beds. At first, I was skittish with getting my hands dirty, but I soon got over that when I realized how nice it felt to actually be doing something productive. I also saw that I had a bit of a knack for gardening.
When Joe was finished mowing, he came over to see my progress.
�Very nice,� he said approvingly. �I bet you had no idea you could do this, right?�
I laughed.
�I had absolutely no idea!�
He smiled.
�Hey, why don�t you let me make dinner for you tonight?� I asked. �I feel like being productive today.�
He smirked.
�Don�t look at me like that! I can cook! It is possible, you know!�
�Okay. I�ll be there. But on one condition.�
�What�s that?�
�Please don�t poison my food.�
I threw a pansy at him, and he laughed. It was almost a little frightening as to how well we were getting along lately. I knew if my parents came back to see me now, they probably wouldn�t believe their eyes.
Later, after I had taken a shower and gotten all the dirt out of my orifices, I found myself in the kitchen. I looked in the refrigerator and the freezer and the pantry and couldn�t decide what to make. I also had to admit to myself that I had no idea how to cook.
When I was deciding between making eggs or a sandwich, Joe came in the house and laughed with delight when he saw my obvious confusion.
�I should have known that a rock star wouldn�t know how to cook,� he said, getting some onions and peppers out of the refrigerator. �Don�t worry about it. I�ll cook. You sit down and read the paper or something.�
I made a face at him and did what he said. I read a magazine about the growing �alternative rock� scene coming out of Seattle. I couldn�t help but feel sorry for my heavy metal brethren. We all knew it had to come to an end at some point, but to be beaten out by this mellow, heavy on the bass and light on the guitar, whiny brand of music? That was just not fair.
After an hour of what sounded like a concert going on in the kitchen, Joe brought me a plate of the most divine looking food I�ve ever seen. There was veal in a bed of linguine. There was garlic bread. There was a salad with the greatest tasting Italian dressing I�ve ever had, homemade by Joe.
�This is incredible! When did you learn how to cook like this!�
His smile faded a little.
�In Kentucky, I shacked up with this nice girl named Arlene. She taught me how to cook as a way to try to forget about the drugs. It worked for a while, but you know what happens� I got tired of cooking and wanted my heroin. She kicked me out, of course.�
I genuinely felt bad for him. It also sounded way too familiar. Isn�t that one of the reasons why Gabriel and I didn�t work out? It was a thought that snuck up on me every now and then when I least expected it. Could Gabriel and I still be together if I had straightened my act out? I tried not to think about it too much.
Over dinner, Joe let me talk about Gabriel and Bailey and how I�ve had the groupie itch practically since the day I was born.
�You know, I always saw you and Gabriel in the papers and on TV, and it never really looked right to me,� he said. �You both looked somewhat happy, but there was always something else in your eyes. I don�t think you were meant to life the rock star life, Olivia.�
I was shocked.
�What are you talking about? What else am I supposed to do with my life? Be a housewife? Be a teacher? Being a rock star is in my blood, Joe. It�s who I am.�
�So are you saying that as soon as you leave this farm, you�re going back there?�
�Where else am I supposed to go?�
He didn�t know what to say to that.
�I don�t know� I just don�t see you in that world anymore, you know?�
I didn�t argue with him. The truth was, he was being very sweet. A small part of me was starting to melt. It was the part of me that eventually let myself fall for Gabriel. It was such a small part of me, a part I rarely saw, and it scared me. I tried to conceal it from Joe as much as possible, but it was getting increasingly hard.
A week or two later, I was helping Joe out with some of the gardening. It was actually becoming a bit of a hobby of mine. After a few hours of accumulating sweat and dirt, I went into the house to get a glass of water, only to see Joe standing in the kitchen with his glass of water.
�You�re doing a good job today, girl,� he said, chewing on a piece of ice. �This place is really starting to look good with the woman�s touch.�
I tried not to bristle at the word �touch.� The truth was, I could barely contain myself at this point. He was standing before me in the kitchen, sweaty from all the work he had been doing. His big muscles were peaking through his shirt. His hands were dirty and rough. I was unbelievably attracted to him, but in a different way than I was used to. I wanted to have more than a sexual connection with him. I wanted a spiritual connection. I wanted an emotional connection.
What, was I in love with him or something? The thought terrified me more than I thought it ever could. How could this happen? This was not something I had prepared myself for, not at all!
I poured my water and sat down on the sofa. I turned on the TV to a show I wasn�t paying attention to at all. Joe came over and sat next to me. It made me nervous � he wasn�t the kind to watch TV in the middle of the day.
Our arms touched, and I couldn�t decide if it was electricity emanating between us, or if it was just a comfortable state of being. I couldn�t decide if I wanted him, or if I just wanted to be friends with him. All I knew is that our arms were touching, and it was making me crazy.
�Joe� I-�
�I know. I know.�
We stared at each other, not sure what to do next.
Before we could take a second to think about it, we were kissing. We were kissing with more passion than I had ever experienced in my many years of seduction. It was even more intense than it had been with Gabriel. Don�t get me wrong � Gabriel and I were on fire when we were together. But Joe had been right� there was something always missing between the two of us when we were together. I couldn�t put my finger on it, but I think it was mutual respect. I don�t think I ever respected Gabriel as much as he deserved, and I think he felt the same way about me. I think our break-up came as no surprise to him. In fact, I think in the back of his mind he always knew I was never going to get it together for him. That wasn�t fair, but it was probably true.
I climbed on top of him on the sofa and kissed him hard, biting his lip and sucking his tongue. He took my shirt off and quickly unhooked my bra. He took my breasts in his mouth like he needed them to breath. I gasped with aching pleasure.
We were both sweaty and dirty from the gardening, but that didn�t stop either one of us from being all over each other. Our passion for each other was brand new. Neither one of us had counted on it, but it was so much more intense than I could even dream. We had the most passionate sex I�d ever had in my life, filled with clawing and grabbing and biting and extreme orgasms that shook my entire body. His hands were rough and dirty from the years of farming, but they felt so good on my body. His lips were chapped and his face was rough from days worth of stubble, but I couldn�t get enough of his kisses, his tongue, his body, his hands.
When the sex was over, we looked at each other and laughed.
�I don�t know where that came from,� he said, kissing my shoulder.
�I don�t know either, but I know I want it again, and soon.�
