"Hello!" I was bubbly, the wash of morning gone. The sun had awoken me from my peaceful slumber by trickling around the drawn curtains. I hadn't been outside yet, but I figured it was still chilly.
"Hello, love. What time is it there?"
His voice was soft and smooth, like warm water down your throat.
"Only nine A.M. What about for you?"
"It is 11. We've just had breakfast, and now I'm calling. I wanted to hear the sound of your sweet voice to wake me."
"You're far too kind," I giggled and picked at the edge of my white sock.
"Love, I miss you so." He sighed. His cheery tone dropped and his voice was flat.
"I miss you as well. It is so lonely here without the sounds of your guitar and laughter."
"I feel that my heart has died without you. I can't believe how I feel. Every night I just lay in my bed, missing the feeling of you in my arms. This has never happened to me before, I've never felt this way. I fear that I am losing you, the distance between us too great."
"I know, I feel the same way. But you know you're not losing me. This is so- this is so odd, you know that, right?"
"What is?"
"The way we are. I mean, it was like one day we were just- I feel so silly saying this. But it's like one day we were just married. We met all of sudden and now I'm looking after your home, receiving your calls of despair like you're some down-trodden soldier looking for comfort."
I laughed as I wandered around the kitchen, moving as far as the chord would allow me. The room was messy, with dishes stacked in the sink and snacks left out on the counter. I felt bad for my lack of cleaning skills and was a little glad he wasn't here to see his house in a state of disarray. I didn't even want to think about what he would say if he saw the living room!
"I know that this is all a bit sudden and inane. But it feels right, doesn't it?"
"I suppose it does. But I can't help feeling that it's all a dream. I always think I'm going to wake tomorrow, back in my apartment, and wonder who you really are."
"Every day is a production of sanity, Guinevere. We are only sane if we believe we are. And I don't know if we've ever been. Why pretend the feeling is not there when it is? Even when we are apart I can feel the beating of your heart, the warmth of your hands on mine."
We finished our phone conversation shortly after his omission of feeling. There was a light in my chest, a calling of love. I worried about this and fought to push it down. Surely he tells every girl this. My eyes traced feminine figures up and down the stairs, in the kitchen, lying on the couch. I wonder how many women he'd conned into looking after him and his house. But that was the dark, the anxious part of my brain. It was the primal part. The center where my abandonment issues lingered, creeping out only to destroy things that I held dear. The whole of my mind was settled on the truth. And the truth was, he wanted me to stay at his house, offered for Lucy to join, and called me each day. The ringing was clockwork, a mysterious and unpunctual thing, but recurring nonetheless. When I heard the phone I was happy, knowing it was him. Sometimes I'd have an awkward conversation with a friend of his, occasionally having to turn away those looking to do business with him. I would pen their information and pass it along to Jimmy. But when I heard the operator, "distance call from Mr. Page", I was delighted. I wasn't into the business of lying to myself, and I couldn't deny how happy he made me. That was what frightened me the most, I suppose. He made me feel something, awakened that cold and slumbering organ in my chest.
-
"Distance call from Mr. Page." The operator was the first voice I heard. When these words were spoken I could feel my heart rattling in its cage, wanting to burst free from the shackles of my body. When the line gave way to his lilting accent of velvet and song, I could've cried in happiness. "Hello, love. How are you doing on this fine evening?"
"Well, it's not evening here. It's midday, but I'm doing fine. Just made something to eat and was settling down with some poetry and petting Lucy." I looked at the ball of fluff that was perched on the counter. I tried my best to shoo her from there when I could, not wanting Jimmy to see that I allowed her on there when he returned.
"That sounds lovely. What book are you reading now? Still the same as last time?"
"No, actually, it's a new one. It's a collection of works by Percy Bysshe Shelley. They're quite good. Mostly about love, which happens to be my favorite subject."
"You'll have to send me some. I would love to hear one."
"I will include my favorite in your next letter. That'll be sent to Iceland, correct?"
"Yeah, that sounds about right. I hate that we have to plan this stuff out. I'm sorry you don't have a normal relationship."
If it weren't for his charming and breathy laugh my chest would have ached in sorrow at his words. "Well, I wouldn't trade it for the world. You're a gem, one I don't mind waiting for." I could hear the smile in his voice as he went on, rambling about the tour and all the things he's seen. I enjoyed hearing his tales, occasionally getting interrupted by his bandmates or people wanting his attention. But he always turned them away, stating that he would be with them when his phone call was over.
I cherished these moments with him when it was just the two of us on this phone. I pulled up a white chair and sat next to the hanging rotary phone that belonged to Jimmy, in his house, wearing his clothing. I was entirely engulfed in him and I enjoyed every second of it. The lack of stability once scared me, not long ago. But ever since he'd made me his girlfriend I felt better than ever. With the letters and phone calls, I felt less lonely, but nothing ever satiated my thirst for him like having him in my presence. I would have to settle for hearing his voice and reading his sprawling script.
"Hi, Gwenythn! I hope you're having a great time in dreary England. Not too much fun, I suppose." Bonzo was yelling over Jimmy, being his usual obnoxious and garish self. "That was right in my ear, Bonz. What the hell!"
"Sorry, Jim, I wanted to say hi to the broad. Tell her what a good boy you've been."
"Here, let me talk to him." I laughed. When I could hear the phone being passed I spoke once more, "I know he's being good, I've got him nice and whipped. Are you being good?" His laughter pelted my ears, thunderous and full, as always. "Of course!"
"No shenanigans, right? You're not messing up any hotel rooms or tearing up any stages?"
"Of course I am. But that is good for me, I suppose. Are you taking a lot of photos? Being as charming and impish as ever?"
"I'm trying, at the very least."
"You and Pagey are a match made in heaven. You both spend too much time in those pretty little heads. I always wonder what he's thinking, wearing that stone-cold face, fiddling with his hands."
"You and me both. If you think it's hard to be his bandmate, imagine how it is to be his girlfriend!"
"Girlfriend? Oh, we've made things official. Way to go, Pagey! You better marry this one, I think she really likes you." He laughed once more, no doubt annoying Jimmy. I could see his sour face now, features twisted in annoyance and anger. "Okay, okay, I'll leave you be. Have to call my wife, and talk to the kids. Enjoy your night, Gwen."
"You as well, Bonz," I spoke but he was already gone, replaced by Jimmy's sighing. "I apologize for that. He's being himself, as always."
"I'm quite used to it, fortunately. I enjoy his teasing, especially when it's aimed at you. Your face is so cute when you're pissed off."
"Oh, shut up." He was laughing now too, a glorious sound of light and glee. I never tired of hearing this. "You can't even see me."
"Yeah, but I know you're grimacing right now."
-
"I have some news to share with the group." Bonzo was wearing a cheeky smile. Trouble was brewing when he was painted pink with this look. "Well, go on." Peter was intrigued, thinking the news was of any real importance. "It seems our friend, James Page, has truly ended his reign over the female gender. Parents will no longer need to lock up their daughters and hide their hairspray, as he's found the girl for him. I thought all this "I'm done with the groupies" muck was just talk, something he'd put aside quickly. But no, it seems to be true. He's made our dear photographer, Gwen, his girlfriend. Told me herself just an hour ago."
Robert was the only one really interested now. Peter rolled his eyes and turned around, sick to death of their poking and prodding at one another. He swore they were actually a group of women, the way they fought like catty birds. Jonesy was happy for the couple but didn't care for the display of Jimmy's private business. He enjoyed Gwen's company and saw that their love was true. Bonzo tended to take things too far and Jimmy was especially touchy. Mostly in the matters of his personal life. The dealings of a man's heart concerned only him, Jonesy thought.
"You have? Well, isn't that wonderful! We'll have to call up the chapel and prepare the rings." Robert matched Bonzo's smirk, now teasing his guitarist. They were double trouble, tag-teaming an assault on Jimmy's peace. "Will you two shut up? Don't act as if you've never had one."
"No, not a love as grand and deep as yours! Tell us, she sends you love poems, doesn't she?"
"Even my wife doesn't send me letters. This girl must really care about you."
"Guys, c'mon, leave him alone. He's clearly not right in the head. This woman must have you pretty lovesick to quit the groupies." Richard nudged Jimmy with his elbow, earning a glare from him. "You all think you're so funny, don't you?" He grimaced. "Downright hilarious," Robert said. "We must be if it's bothering you." Bonzo smiled with a shit-eating grin. Jimmy stood and stomped out of the room, arms crossed and anger on his face. "You all just have to take the piss, don't you? Well, I hope you're happy." Peter followed suit, mirroring the grumpy guitarist's actions. "Jeez, what's up everyone's ass today?" Bonzo asked. "I'm not sure. But we all know if Jimmy's not happy, no one can be."
"I can't imagine what it's like to be Gwen. With him around, it's already like having a girlfriend." Robert rolled his eyes. Everything had to be a certain way around Jimmy, it had to be his way. "She must be a lesbian." Richard cracked. This caused the guys to laugh, even Jonesy joined in.
-
Dearest James,
I thought you would find this interesting. I read about an artist named A.Y. Jackson. He's Canadian and paints beautiful landscapes, but is known for his paintings of war. It's not garish or gory like you'd think, rather it's wonderful and shows the beauty of Canada. There was a school in Toronto that opened with his name and he attended the opening, that's where I heard about him. I enclosed a clipping of the paper I found. I figure you miss the papers here, the American ones are a daft drag. I'm starting to sound so British, aren't I? By the time you get back, I'll have the accent and everything.
I hope your tour is going well and I hope you're enjoying yourself. I am having a great time here, working away at a job I hate. I feel like I'm performing slave labor! Johnathan has me doing the most menial tasks. I think he wants to punish me. For what, I am not sure. But it feels like a punishment. I got him a fucking coffee yesterday. I am supposed to be taking actual photos! Ever since I did that shoot with The Who he's been upset with me. Maybe that's what has him so pissed. Anyway, I hope this letter finds you well. Tell me about your travels and tour stories.
I have also included my favorite poem from my book! It is titled "Indian Serenade" and was published in 1819. I hope you enjoy it.
I arise from dreams of thee
In the first sweet sleep of night,
When the winds are breathing low,
And the stars are shining bright:
I arise from dreams of thee,
And a spirit in my feet
Hath led me—who knows how?
To thy chamber window, Sweet!
The wandering airs they faint
On the dark, the silent stream—
The Champak odors fail
Like sweet thoughts in a dream;
The Nightingale's complaint,
It dies upon her heart;—
As I must on thine,
Oh, belovèd as thou art!
Oh lift me from the grass!
I die! I faint! I fail!
Let thy love in kisses rain
On my lips and eyelids pale.
My cheek is cold and white, alas!
My heart beats loud and fast;—
Oh! press it to thine own again,
Where it will break at last.
Love,
Gwen
Fair Guinevere,
I found some works by A.Y. Jackson and they are lovely. I appreciate you passing the message of his genius along. I enjoyed looking at his work so! I hate that you're not having a good time at work. Perhaps talk with Johnathan about your role at the company? He seems to have a stick up his ass. I'm sure he's just intimidated by your talent.
We're currently in Iceland and it is wonderful. It is a Nordic nation that has beautiful scenery of geysers, volcanoes, hot springs, and lava fields. A lava field is something I'd never heard of before traveling here. It is an ocean of dark and muddied lava, shielded by grass and dirt. With a name like Iceland, you'd think it's a Taiga wasteland, but it's not. How misleading! There are great and bounding stretches of green land, adorned with caves and cliffs. Robert said it reminded him of Middle Earth, and I have to agree. It is so beautiful here, I only wish you were here. The only sight that would be better than these sprawling hills and hot springs is you. I miss the smooth skin that covers your lithe frame, the delicate chin, and eyes you possess. Luckily I will be home soon, back in our home and in your arms, where I most certainly belong.
That poem was very lovely. It made me think of how much I miss you and your lips. I read it many times over and even showed it to Robert, although he only laughed at you sending me poems. I'm sure he enjoyed it nonetheless. At the risk of sounding ignorant, what is Champak?
Lastly, do not think I overlooked your greeting. As you know I admonish the moniker of "James". But I will let it slide because you are so lovely.
Yours truly and always,
Jimmy.
-
It was a new day and a new chance to talk to Jimmy. I missed even the smell of his sweat. I didn't know what was happening to me. I was feeling so deeply for this man. We barely knew each other. Did he even know what state I'm from? Did I even know where he was from? No. But did I miss him and want desperately to see him again? Yes. I guess that is infatuation. It is without reason, brings the sanest of men to trembling knees with quivering lips and teary eyes.
I was a victim of this terrible thing most people would call love, but I knew it was not that. It was in fact infatuation. We were not, nor would we probably ever be, in love. That was something that was built over time and took many hours and hands to construct. And I didn't think Jimmy and I would ever get that far. It was illogical to think that.
I was delighted by the ringing of the phone. When the operator transferred me over to him I greeted him with a smile in my voice. "Jimmy!" I was giddy, due to my missing him more than ever. It seemed everything reminded me of him. The running tap water sounded just like his laugh and the TV dials looked just like his face in the morning. And don't even get me started on the radio! Whole Lotta Love was playing nonstop and it almost made me weep each time.
"Good morning, love."
"It's not morning here, more like mid-day. Where are you?"
"Pheonix, Arizona. It's so bloody hot here I feel like I could melt. I thought it would be a little colder here, given that it's not even May yet."
"Oh, yeah, I'm sure it's hot there. Pheonix is close to the equator. Make sure you wear a hat."
He laughed at my words. It was gentle and quiet, almost a whisper, but was the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard. I missed hearing it so much. I was lost in nostalgia, remembering all the wonderful times I'd heard him giggle. I almost didn't hear him at first.
"I have something I need to talk to you about."
I was troubled by what he said. I was afraid it was something serious, perhaps our relationship was in jeopardy. In my mind, fires were set and I needed to put them out. My thoughts wandered in eradicate patterns, trying my best to solve imaginary problems. It was a long moment before I spoke. "What is it?"
He must've heard the tension in my tone. He gave another laugh and assured me it was nothing serious. I felt like I could breathe again. I breathed a sigh of relief and he began, "We have a break in touring for a few weeks, right after our last show in London, on April 23rd. Robert suggested we go to this little cottage in Wales called Bron-Yr-Aur. It hasn't electricity or running water. It sounds lovely for writing. We both feel we need a break from modern society, it would help us greatly. Robert's wife and daughter will be coming along and I was hoping you would accompany me."
"That sounds great but won't it be kind of awkward to bring me? I mean, we haven't been together very long and-"
"Nonsense, we'd all love to have you!"
"Um, I think I have to work and my birthday is coming up"
"We can have your birthday there, it would be so nice! Imagine it now, lying in bed with nothing but each other, spending our days trudging through creeks and admiring the nature. Wouldn't you say it sounds great?"
I sighed. How do I let him down easily? It helped that I couldn't see the disappointment on his face. I just had to put on my big girl pants and tell him how I felt. "I'm sorry, Jimmy, but I just don't think it would be a good idea."
"Well, why not?" He sounded just as hurt as I feared he would. I was wrong, it didn't make it easier that I couldn't see him. If anything, it made it worse. All I could do was picture how his face looked and his reaction after we ended our call.
"It feels too soon for me."
"Too soon? What does that mean?"
I sighed again. This conversation was taking a sour turn. I was happy at first that he'd called, I missed him dearly and I wanted to talk to him. Now all I wanted to do was slam the phone on the hook and pretend this wasn't happening. But I pushed these feelings down and trekked forward with honesty. I knew I wasn't going to get anywhere by lying. He saw right through it. "We haven't been together for that long. Going on a trip sounds a little..."
"A little what?"
"Soon."
"Oh, love, I was afraid you would feel this way. I just want you with me and I thought you would be overjoyed at the offer."
"I am- I am happy that you offered, but I don't want to rush things."
"Okay, I guess I can understand that. I can't say I'm not disappointed, but I respect your honesty."
"I'm glad you can see it from my point of view. It doesn't mean I like you any less, I promise. I just need time. I'm sensitive, you have to be careful with me."
"I know, I know. That's one of the reasons I admire you, one of the many at least."
"Oh, stop, now you're just trying to flatter me so I'll come with you."
"No, no, I swear. It's all true. But not that I'm thinking of it, you mentioned your birthday coming up. You've never told me your actual birthday. When is it? I'd like to be home to celebrate it with you. Even if that means cutting my trip short."
"Luckily, you wouldn't have to. My birthday is May 10th"
"May 10th? What a lovely day! I'll make sure I'm there to celebrate with you."
"You don't have to do that."
"Of course I do. Remember what you said to me on my special day? I want to make it equally as special for you. My wonderful and beautiful Guinevere."
I could hear his smile through the phone. As if his cheesy words weren't enough to tip me off. "Stop! You are too kind to me."
"I could never be."