This part is interesting. Don't hate me by the end... lol. this isn't just another random post that will happen yearly. Im going to actually try to get this done within the next few months. And now... A recap, because holy shit I'm alive. Joe and Annie got their divorce. Annie spared the boring details, saying how it was a numbing experience. She knew it was something that needed to be done, just like everything else that's happened in her life. She doesn't hate joe for being unhappy. She promises herself she'll be okay one day. Steven and charlie continue to talk on the phone, now more frequently than ever. Steven pours his heart out to charlie, reminding her of their weekend at the lake when he realized she's all he needs. Before charlie is able to respond, Steven hangs up. And now......
//
Steven
Annie and Joe finalized their divorce. They signed the papers, and now Annie and Anthony live in that big house, and god knows where Joe is. I need to see Charlie again. I feel like that phone call wasn't enough. I need to tell her in person how much she means to me, I need to show her, and I need her to see that after eight years, I haven't stopped loving her.
I suppose that's why it was so easy for me to end things with Lainey. Sure, I was mad at her because she went and slept with my best friend. But looking back, even though I told her I loved her, even though I couldn't get her off my mind, and needed her on tour with me... it wasn't love. I guess I was just so elated to finally be feeling something again other than pleasure while I'm with a woman. Lainey is a nice girl, and she made me feel good in more ways than one. Lainey and I weren't together just for the sex, we had a friendship. And she's the first person since Charlie that I've had that with. And it was nice. But it wasn't love. I thought it was, because I'd forgotten what love feels like. No, it was just momentary happiness. Something that made me feel like I had a purpose. A reason to write, perform. She was an inspiration to me. But I never loved her. After running into Charlie at the grocery store, then at her dad's house; after yelling in her driveway; after talking on the phone... it's always been Charlie. And that's who it needs to be.
//
Joe
Lainey traced her fingers around my chest, half laying on top of me, half not. I lit a cigarette with one hand while keeping my other hand low on her bare back. The sheets were tangled at our feet. I just got divorced from my wife of seven years, and my best friend of, well, life. I just made love to a girl I've known for a few months. But this girl has made me feel things I haven't felt for years. Things I haven't felt since I lived in Hopedale.
Do I have regrets? Of course. I just threw away a lifelong relationship with my first love, and the way I did it is pretty douche-y. But do I wish it hadn't happened? No. Sure, things could have gone differently. I should have talked with Annie long before I decided to start talking to Lainey. Truth is, I've been having these thoughts since I first left Aerosmith. I wish I would have told Annie sooner. I wish I could have saved her from some of the pain I know she's in, but she's doing so well to hide. I know she'll be okay though. Like everything, there will come a time where she'll look at this moment and feel nothing. No sadness, no anger, maybe a slight memory of an emotion, but I know she will be okay. She always is.
//
Annie
I set three plates at the table, three napkins, three forks, three knives, three glasses. One with lemonade, two with wine. White wine, so that it would be sweet and so that we could tolerate the taste.
I served the roast beef onto the plates, added the mashed potatoes. I didn't cook it, but I called the two boys into the kitchen for the dinner. Neither one of them came.
I had to go up the stairs and down the hallway, to Anthony's room. He was sitting on the floor with his back to the door, playing some sort of game. Steven sat across from him, too intent on the game with Anthony to see me in the doorway. I watched the two for a minute, the way Steven interacted with him and how Anthony was laughing, playing pretend with his action figures. I'm not sure how long I watched the two for, but I felt my eyes welling up, despite the slight smile on my face. I didn't want to interrupt the two, but dinner was getting cold.
Steven noticed me then, glancing up. He gave me a smile and went back to playing with Anthony. A moment later, he said, "I think dinner's ready."
I nodded and headed back to the kitchen. The two boys followed close behind.
Steven's been around a lot lately. Whether that's to help with Anthony, keep my mind off Joe, or keep his mind off Charlie, I don't know.
"Now Anthony," Steven says, before any of us can take a bite of our food, grinning evilly and glancing at me. "You don't have anything to worry about with this food. It isn't gonna get up and wander off, because it's actually food."
Anthony looks confused, and I was intrigued where Steven was going with this.
"You see," Steven said, taking a bite, "your mother didn't make it. So don't feel any sort of worry when you eat it."
This made Anthony laugh, he's familiar with Steven's jokes about my awful cooking. I didn't cook the food, no. I simply helped keep it warm and kept an eye on it while the chef played with my son, to give me a break or something. Steven made it. And it was good.
Steven helped with the dishes afterward, making small talk probably to keep our minds from wandering.
He helped me put Anthony to bed, and then I sat on the couch looking at the tv, but not watching whatever was on. Steven said he was going to make a phone call. I knew he'd be calling Charlie.
I used to love this man. And for the longest time I'd forgotten why. Things were bad in the seventies, but the core of what Steven and I had was good. It was very real, and we both felt it. I'm seeing the things in him that I used to love, as he hangs around more. He's a good person, he really cares and loves with all his being. And I'm sorry that I'd stopped seeing that for the longest time.
//
Steven
Annie got up from the couch to make herself a drink, silently asking if I wanted one too. I declined, knowing I'd get one once I get off the phone.
"Hey," I said when Charlie picked up the phone. Annie had finished making her drink and was back on the couch. I felt bad leaving her alone to make this phone call, but she had assured me it was okay.
"Hi Steven," was Charlie's reply. I love the way she says my name.
"How're you doing?" I asked her, genuinely curious.
There was a pause, I could hear her take a deep breath before answering. "I'm okay," she said. I can't be sure if she's lying or not. "Busy, y'know, working and stuff. You?"
Neither one of us have acknowledged what I'd said to her a few nights ago, about our time at the lake. "I'm fine," I lied. "Also working." I chuckled, but it was awkward.
"Oh yeah," she said, "you guys are putting out an album." For the first time, what she was saying didn't sound rehearsed.
"Yeah." I was so excited that I was actually getting her talking. "Yeah, we are. Aerosmith's first album since getting back together."
"That's exciting," she stated. I knew she meant it. "How's it sound?"
"It's pretty good, I think." This small talk is killing me. While I love it, I just want things to feel normal again. Will they ever? God, I miss her.
Am I really just gonna sit here and do nothing about it? Part of me says let things play out as they want to. But another part says that life is short and you need to forgive quickly and love truly.
"Hey–" I said suddenly, breaking the short silence. I'm sure my sudden serious tone caught her off guard. "Listen, I want to apologize for the other night. Me, pouring my heart out. I feel like I could have gone about that differently."
Charlie is silent, taking in my words. "Are you sorry for what you said, or for saying it?" she finally asks.
Now it's my turn to be silent. No, I don't regret saying it, and no I'm not sorry for what I said to her. I just feel like I could have told her differently. Maybe not all at once. "No," I eventually say. "I meant every word. But maybe you weren't ready to hear it. Maybe it wasn't right to ask for a second chance. I don't expect you to feel towards me how I feel towards you."
"I–" she begins, "I don't..." I can tell she wants to say something, but isn't going to say it. "I don't know. I don't– I just don't know, Steven." She sighs. "This is a lot. All very suddenly. It's been eight years of nothing. Just completely cut off from each other so suddenly. And now just as suddenly, we're talking and you want a second chance." I can't tell if she's angry. "I can't do it. I just don't know–"
"I'm sorry, Charlie," I cut her off. "I'm so sorry for everything. I'm sorry I'm trying..."
At the same exact time, Charlie says quietly, "Don't stop trying."
My eyes start to burn and I know I'll be crying soon. I don't know what to say.
"I don't know Steven," she repeats. "I have to go... goodnight."
"'Night," I whisper, hanging up the phone.
I wipe my eyes and make myself a drink, heading for Annie on the couch. She looks at me and opens her arms, offering a hug. I collapse next to her on the couch and we hold each other.
I used to be so in love with this woman. And for the longest time I'd thought she was the one. Things were bad in the seventies, but the heart of what Annie and I had was good. It was very real, and we both felt it. She cares and loves truly. She's always been good to me. It feels like she's the last shred of sanity and love that I have.
She's crying; I hear her sniffle. We release the hug and I study her face. "What do you think Joe's doing right now?" she asks, finishing off her second drink.
I have an idea of what he's doing, but I don't want to tell her. "I don't know," I say instead, taking a long drink.
"I know he's with her," she says, getting up to make another drink. I watch her, she makes two, as mine was half empty already. "Any progress with Charlie?" she asks, sitting back down close to me.
"I dunno," I sigh. "I confessed everything to her a few nights ago, asking for a second chance. And then tonight I apologized for doing it."
"How'd she react?" Annie asks, drinking kind of fast it seems. But then again, so am I.
I close my eyes. "I fucked up," I say. "I don't think things will ever be okay."
Annie puts an arm around me, brushing my hair in a comforting way. "Don't say that," she says. "You and I are okay, after everything."
"Yeah..." I agree, taking her hand and removing her arm from around me. I keep her hand in my mine, resting in my lap. We sit in silence for awhile, finishing off our drinks. She must be a little tipsy by now, because I'm feeling a little dizzy myself. Nonetheless, after a minute, I get up to make another drink. Annie follows me to the kitchen, standing close to me as I pour some coke into our glasses. She leans against my side, and when I put the bottle of coke down, I turn to face her and she leans into me, snaking her arms around me and pushing her head into my chest. I accept the hug, resting my chin on the top of her head, rubbing her back. I'm not sure how long we stood like that, slightly rocking back and forth, but eventually she broke away and I followed her back to the couch.
"I love you, Steven," she said, resting her head on my shoulder.
"I love you too," I said, kissing the top of her head and reaching for my drink.
"Am I gonna be alone forever?" she asked, definitely tipsy.
"No," I said. That'd be ridiculous! "You're too beautiful a person to be alone, Annie."
We again sat in silence. Will I be alone forever? Will I ever find love? Shit, will Annie? She could be with anyone, she's gorgeous. But will anyone love her the way she deserves to be loved? This woman deserves all the love in the world. She deserves someone that will bring her joy, make her laugh, make her an even better version of herself. She deserves the world. She deserves to be loved in the same way that she loves others.
"You're too good," I say to her. "You're too good and all you get is fucked over."
"You're drunk," she says, smiling sadly.
"Which means you are, too," I say. She laughs then, and it's a beautiful sound.
"You're good, too Steven," she says, putting her head back on my shoulder and looking up at me. I rest my head on hers after kissing her forehead. "God, is getting drunk the only time I'll feel good?" she wonders out loud.
I snort ruefully, agreeing with her.
"Thank you for being here," she continues. "It really helps, not being alone. And Anthony loves it."
"Thanks for letting me," I say with a sad smile. "I'd rather be here with you than be alone. You're great company. It's nice to be around you..."
"You too," she says. "I'm tired of being sad."
Ain't that the truth... "Well," I say slowly. "Lets do something fun," I suggest. "Get our minds off of shit."
"Like what?" she asks, almost laughing. "I sure as hell can't drive right now, and neither can you. And I have a kid."
"Something here, then," I say, spotting the Atari.
And so we drunkenly played video games, and Annie was laughing so hard that tears were streaming down her face. But it was okay, because they were good tears. We continued to drink, like the responsible adults that we are not.
It was around two in the morning when we called it quits for video games. Our brains felt fried. "Bedtime," Annie stated, stretching with a yawn.
I was happy to agree, reaching for the blanket on the chair next to the couch. But Annie stood in front of me, looking down at me. I smiled up at her, wondering what she was doing. Maybe she wanted another hug. I'm too drunk to think straight. I reached out to give her hand a squeeze before dropping my hand back into my lap. "You're too good," she said again. "Too good."
I smirk and shrug. "Go get some sleep."
She stands for a moment more, then walks away slowly, turning around halfway there. She busted me watching her walk away. She raises an eyebrow, questioning me. Before I'm able to stop myself, I blurt, "I hate to see you go, but..."
Her face breaks into a smile, cheeks pink. Whether that's from the alcohol or something else, I don't know. "Don't you dare finish that sentence, Asshole," she says.
I laugh, embarrassed about my lack of control. "G'night, Beautiful," I murmur, laying down. I watch her walk the rest of the way to her bedroom, just down a hallway off the living room. It's just like old times. We used to stay at Annie's apartment, I'd sleep in the living room, and watch her walk off to her bedroom. I remember one time, we were considerably drunk, much like tonight, and she was wearing this red dress that made her figure look so good... it buttoned all the way down her back, and she needed me to undo the buttons... I unhooked her bra and made it seem like an accident. She still thinks it wasn't intentional. I wonder if she remembers that.... God, that was forever ago. I close my eyes, reminiscent.
Not even a few minutes after disappearing, Annie comes out of her room in pajamas, I guess. I peek through my eyelashes at her, but pretend to sleep. Her long blond hair is in a knot on the top of her head. She wears nothing but a black shirt that is too big on her, the front reads 'Yardbirds,' just like the shirt I owned so long ago. I can see the freckles on her face, now that she's taken off all her makeup. I look her up and down; long, tan legs, tall socks scrunched down by her ankles. She looks over at me and I snap my eyes closed. She walks to the kitchen, reaching for the bottle of rum we'd been making our drinks with. Back to me, she undoes the cap and brings the bottle to her lips. Raising her arms makes her teeshirt go up, revealing part of a gray pair of lacy underwear, hardly covering her ass. I know I should look away but I can't. She takes three big gulps of the rum before placing it back onto the counter with the rest of the liquor. She leans against the counter, shirt again raising. I know she's cringing at the taste of the rum, anyone would.
Annie turns to head back to her room, not quite walking straight. Like the first time, she stopped halfway and turned around. What is she trying to do to me...
I don't close my eyes this time. We look at each other for awhile. She said I'm too good. I said she's too good. She deserves the best, she thinks I deserve the best. Someone that knows just how amazing she is... why not me? I've known her all this time. She's known me all this time. She's my last piece of sanity that makes me feel like love is still possible in the world.
The sober part of my brain knows this will be a mistake. It knows we're both drunk, it knows we don't have feelings for each other. I'm sure she's feeling the same. But the drunk part of my brain just watched her take three consecutive shots of rum, watched her stare at me with some sort of look I can't explain, wink, and watched her walk slowly back to her bedroom. She didn't shut the door. She always shuts the door.
I met her in the bedroom, where she shut the door instantly, grabbed my ass, and pushed me against herself. I, at the same time, wrapped one arm around her waist and let the other hand roam her body, starting at her thigh and going up her back, then back down. I pushed my lips roughly onto her neck, her jaw, then her lips. It was sloppy, but it was hot. And it had been too long for the both of us.
She pulled my shirt off as we collapsed onto the bed, I hovered over her, balancing on one arm while my other hand went up her shirt to play, and then in her panties.
She undid my pants which were quite constraining, as I kissed her neck and continued to tease. She kissed me hard. "Fuck me," she murmured breathlessly, somewhere between a whisper and a moan.
I removed her panties and soon after, her shirt. She managed to focus in on my face as my eyes danced over her body, a beautiful picture I haven't seen in years. We locked eyes and she nodded towards the night stand, I knew what she meant. My pants came off and we kissed again, long, messy, and hot. And that's how the night went too. I watched her face as her hands tangled in my hair, eyes half closed, mouth curved up in a half smile. When we'd lock eyes, I'd see the fire in hers, and pleasure written all over her face. We moved together, like a dance we'd learned long ago and were slowly reminding each other of the parts we'd forgotten.
It wasn't slow, sweet, and loving. It was sexy, hot, and pure pleasure. And it's the best I've felt in a long time.