Will took a computer class?
“I think that’s great, he’s a very talented musician.” I paused. “Hey, did you know Will can sing, too? I mean, like really well?”
“Yeah, Tyler mentioned something about that. I guess The Ivans broke up and Will has been doing solo gigs at little dive bars and cafés.”
“What? Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
“Well you don’t exactly act like you like Will.”
“Why, because I didn’t sleep with him?”
“No. That’s not why. Honestly, Mia, you kind of act like Will’s a loser. He told Tyler that he stays away from the apartment at night because he feels like he’s getting in your way when Robert’s over. He cares about you, Mia. He’s a good roommate and a good friend. None of us can understand why you’re so resistant toward him.”
“Well, he’s been leaving me rude notes and the other day he called me evil. And… and he… he… he brings women over!” I exclaimed.
“You made it pretty clear that he’s not your type. He’s a man; do you expect him not to date? Anyway, he said you got all bent over the fact that he brought a friend over. I’m sorry, I love you girl, but I think it’s a little unfair the way you treat him.” Jenny’s words ruined me because they were true. I tried hopelessly to explain myself.
“Will has a lot of good qualities, Jenny. I hope he and I can remain friends. I want desperately to get along with him, but I’m not a fan of the whole starving-artist thing. The musician who has casual sex with all types of women, it just seems trite. I admire a man who has hopes and dreams for his future.”
“Every man has hopes and dreams for his future, Will is no exception. You know so little about him and you’ve already concluded that he’s worthless because he plays a guitar. That seems so hypocritical of you. What comes to mind when I think of trite is the girl who spends one vapid evening after another eating expensive meals and talking about money with her rich, investment-banker boyfriend.”
“Why are you trying to hurt me, Jenny?”
“I’m trying to help you. I see you meandering aimlessly through your life.” She brought me into her arms for long hug. “Every time I look at you, I see the pain from losing Pops. I know you’re still grieving. I know Will reminds you of him, but I don’t know why that scares you.” I began sobbing in her arms. I needed to cry. “You’ll figure it out, Mia, and I’ll be here for you. I think maybe you still have more to learn about Pops and yourself.” She paused, then whispered, “And Will.”
Jenny’s decisions about marriage, friends, and career always seemed so rash to me, yet she was sure of everything. Every word she said was the truth. I would discover more. Once I collected myself, I took a seat at the bar and faced the window. Martha came over and brought me some tea. She had been in the kitchen, so I knew she’d heard my conversation with Jenny. “Thanks, Martha.”
“Hi, Mia Pia.” She took a seat next to me and held my hand as we stared out the window.
“I’m so confused.”
“You’re twenty-five and you just lost your father, it comes with the territory,” she said gently.
“Being here and living his life, it’s so dramatically different than my life in Ann Arbor. My father made decisions with his heart and my mom makes them with her mind and I can’t help but feel like I’m more like my mom, or I should be.”
She paused and looked straight ahead before speaking.
“You have to teach your heart and mind how to sing together… then you’ll hear the sound of your soul.”
It took me thirty seconds to process that single sentence, but once it sank in, I almost fell off my chair. I always appreciated Martha’s warmth, but I used to think her comments were esoteric crap. As I got older, I started finding profound meaning in what she had to say. Martha continued staring out the window. When I saw a little smile play on her lips I followed her gaze to see Will, who was standing across the street. He was in front of “Trax,” a store that sold rare vinyl and music memorabilia. He was wearing black jeans, his usual belt and wallet chain, and a plain white T-shirt. He was looking down with his hands in his pockets, talking shyly to a woman who looked to be in her early thirties. She had short black hair and a hip outfit and from what I could tell, she was pretty. She handed Will a piece of paper and then shook his hand; he pulled her in for a swift hug. When she walked away, he looked at the paper, then turned on his heel and trotted away exuberantly. I rolled my eyes.
Track 7: What Would J.C. Do?
The next week consisted mostly of me moping around my apartment alone. I wore the same outfit for four days straight. Everyone at Kell’s gave me pitying looks, but other than work-related topics, no one uttered a word to me. I was starting to feel like I lived alone—Will was home for all of five minutes that week and Jackson was becoming more and more sluggish. The engagement party was coming up that Saturday and since my standing dates with Robert were on Saturdays, I figured why not take him. It was time to introduce him to my pseudo-family. I planned to work and sleep until then, but Jenny wouldn’t have it. She insisted that I go to poetry night, saying that the grand finale was going to be Will playing a few songs. How could I resist?
That night the usual poetry party showed up. When Will and Tyler walked in together, Tyler came straight to where Jenny and I were behind the counter. Will immediately took a seat without acknowledging me. Halfway through the readings, a group of college girls walked in and sat down. They were giggling and eyeing him. Then the dark-haired woman I’d seen him with in front of Trax came in. She sat at the window bar and turned her stool to face the tiny, makeshift stage where a ninety-year-old man was doing a slam about waffles. When Will spotted her, he shot her the peace sign and turned back toward the stage. I didn’t know what to make of it, but she was obviously there to see Will, as was the table of giggling girls.