Page 47 of Poetry By Dead Men
Me: Bobby needed a writer for an article with Rolling Stone. He asked me to do it. And before you try to talk me out of it, I agreed. In exchange, he’s going to sign with Harrison’s firm. This is a good thing.
Three little dots appear on the screen, then disappear. This happens about three times before the phone rings.
“This is a horrible idea,” Molly says with no preamble or greeting.
“You promised you’d stay calm,” I remind her.
She half laughs, but it’s tense. “I didn’t promise anything. Beth, have you lost your mind? Do you not remember me having to literally drag you into the shower after weeks of you lying in bed in the same clothes after what happened?”
Even though she can’t see me, I roll my eyes. “That’s a little dramatic. It was four days. And I’ve moved on.”
The bus door hisses as it opens, and a familiar voice from long ago meets my ears. "What’s the surprise, dude?"
“Listen, Molly. I have to go. But Iamokay. And I willstayokay. I love you, and I’ll call you later,” I say, hanging up before she can argue.
A text from Harrison pops up before I put my phone away:Did Robert pick you up this morning?
I bristle.You made me take this job and then were too busy to take me.I want to say.
Nerves churn in my stomach.No. One of his drivers,I text back.
It’s a lie, but what’s one more on top of everything else? I don’t want to argue with Harrison again, and our doorbell camera is grainy, at best. There’s no way he’d be able to tell for sure it was Bobby with him disguised in a hat and sunglasses.
"You’ll see," Bobby answers as I put my phone down, his voice full of mischief.
"It’s quite the surprise," another voice I recognize as Patrick chimes in, and my chest warms. Losing Bobby meant losing a lot of otherpeople I cared about, Patrick and Johnny included. It wasn't fair, but are breakups ever?
The bus door closes with a hiss, and there’s a thud of a guitar case being set on the floor.
"Well?" Johnny asks.
I stand from the chair next to Bobby’s bed and run to the bathroom to find a hairbrush, then quickly wipe a streak of mascara from beneath my eye. With one last look in the mirror, I straighten my shirt and walk to the door.
Footsteps approach from the other side, but I don’t wait for whoever it is to get here as I step out into the hallway.
"I'm guessing I’m the surprise?" I say, coming face-to-chest with Bobby. He smells like soap and leather and coffee, and my head swims.
"Holy shit! Is that Bethy?" Johnny shouts from the front lounge, and the use of his nickname for me makes me grin. There’s a thundering of feet and suddenly Johnny’s there, shoving Bobby out of the way. He grabs my shoulders and holds me at arm’s length, his eyes narrowing.
"You found a clone of your girl. Bobby. This is creepy, dude. Did youactuallyclone her?"
"Shut up, Johnny," Bobby snaps, and I choke on my laugh at the way they still seem to be arguing, even after six years.
"Not his girl," I say. "And not a clone."
"Reunion!" Johnny pulls me into a hug, and I return his embrace, realizing how much I’ve missed him as his warmth envelopes me.
"This is amazing! The best surprise ever. I mean, really. I can’t believe you guys are back together." Johnny says, bouncing on his toes.
I look at Bobby over Johnny’s shoulder, but he’s avoiding my gaze. Instead, he’s staring at my ring finger, his posture strained.
"Back together forworkpurposes," I say, stepping away. "I’m writing the Rolling Stone article about the famous Robert Beckett. Would you like to go on the record and tell me all his deepest, darkest secrets?"
"You know the guy's spotless. I guess I could make some stuff up. Just to add a little bit of spice," Johnny jokes, and Bobby rolls his eyes.
"You think on that. I'll be around for the next couple months, so enjoy having me here while you can," I say, not wanting to egg Johnny on about making up stories. I don't doubt that he'd do it, and then I'll have to wade between the truth and lies to figure out what I can actually include in my tell-all.
"I’ll have you anytime," Johnny says with a smirk, and I roll my eyes.
