Before Robert could spot it, I tossed the whipped cream into my hamper. I slid into bed and we talked. He told me his marriage had failed because he worked too much. He said he loved being a dad, but didn’t feel very close to Jacob because he didn’t get much time with him. The comment made me sad for him… and Jacob. I wondered how I could ever make it work with Robert if our relationship would only consist of a few insipid encounters each month. Then I let my mind wander to Will. I wished that we could go back to being silly, flirting with each other and playing music together.
After work the next day I came home to another Will note:
DEAR SLUMLORD,
JACKSON HAS BEEN WALKED AND FED.
I crumbled the note and grabbed Jackson’s leash to take him to the groomers. I decided to have him shaved that day. Shaving a yellow lab is not standard practice but it was hot and Jackson’s fur was all over the apartment. Anyway, he seemed like a happier guy after the shave, even if he looked a little weird. We left the groomers and headed to Tompkins Square Park for a nap on the grassy knoll overlooking the playground. I spotted a few café regulars and hippies from days past lying around on the tiny hill. I leaned back until I was flat in the grass and Jackson curled up and rested his head across my stomach. I closed my eyes to consume the ambient noise of the park that day. I heard the faint song of a harmonica and guitar and thought of Will. There were sweet sounds of children’s voices echoing in the distance, and I thought of Will. I dozed off, thinking of Will.
I only remember the last five seconds of my dream, which included Will’s hands on me. I felt the exquisite pulsing between my legs and sighed, which startled me awake. The feeling below, although out of my control, stopped abruptly. I was disappointed but relieved when I realized I was still in the park. Jackson was nestled beside me, sound asleep. Even though no one was close by, I could still feel my face flush as I thought about the dream. I wanted to remember more, but I couldn’t. It was dusk and eerie in the park. There were fewer people around, so I decided to head home.
As soon as I cracked the door, Jackson went barreling past me and right to Will, who had gotten down on his knees to greet him. “Hey, buddy, what happened to your fur? What did this evil woman do to you?” He continued petting and talking to Jackson. There were a few moments of silence before he looked up and said, “Hey.” He wore a small, sad smile. He was listening to God, but it looked like he didn’t like what he was hearing.
“Hi,” I said softly.
He got up and grabbed his guitar, calling back, “See ya,” as he walked out the door.
That night Jackson had another episode. It was getting to the point where I didn’t even try to move him. By morning he was fine and I couldn’t figure it out. At the café I did some internet research. It seemed like Jackson was having little strokes or quiet seizures. Either way, they were getting worse and I knew I would have to take him to the vet soon. I ordered some chicken from Sam’s to take to Jackson for lunch. While I was waiting for Denise to bring out my order, I heard Will playing “Pictures of You.” I loved the long guitar intro and even though the sound was muffled coming through the ceiling, I could tell Will was playing it perfectly. I grabbed the chicken and ran up to my apartment, hoping to catch some of the song. When I walked in and the sound registered, I stood there with my jaw on the floor. Will’s back was to me and he was singing in a perfect, melodic, and soulful voice. I knew Will wasn’t tone deaf; I had heard him sing a little before, but this wasn’t an impression of the vocals from the original song, it was Will’s amazing voice. He sang the next part with a vulnerable fervor that was so sexy my legs were trembling.
Screamed at the make believe
Screamed at the sky
And you finally found all your courage to let it all go
I lost it and stalked over to stand in front of him. He immediately stopped playing. I pointed and shouted in the most accusatory voice I could muster, “You can sing! Will Ryan, you can sing! What the hell?” It wasn’t really a question. Why was he screwing around with that lame band? Why was he keeping his amazing talent from everyone? My inner thoughts were spilling out. I kept flailing the bag of chicken around. “The universe needs you, Will!” I said desperately.
He quickly unplugged his guitar. “I’m still trying to figure it all out. Please just let this go.” He never made eye contact with me as he hurriedly threw his guitar in the case, grabbed his keys, and went to the door. He turned toward me with a wounded expression before looking down and muttering, “I’m not sure about anything.” When he looked up, his eyes kissed mine. “You get that, right?”
Of course I got it.
Back at Kell’s, Jenny was looking through bridal magazines… again. “What do you think about this kind of arrangement for the head table?”
“It gorgeous,” I said unenthusiastically.
“What’s wrong, girl?”
My mind was going a million miles an hour. “Did you know Will before? He said Tyler was his best friend.”
She chuckled. “No, Mia. I swear it’s a total coincidence. Last year Will and Tyler met each other in a web design class at East Village Community College. Will ran into Tyler at the café one day and we put it all together. They’ve been hanging out a lot lately. I guess Tyler is helping Will do a website for some project.” She paused and then said, “Oh, I wanted to let you know we asked Will to play a few acoustic songs at the wedding.”