Roxy rolled her eyes at their antics but spoke to me as I joined them on the floor. “This place is beautiful.”
“I know,” I said. This place was so big and beautiful. It was a shame he lived here all alone. “You should see Devlin’s studio in the basement.”
“What’s his last name, anyhow?” Suzie asked.
“No last name. It’s a stage name. Like Madonna.” Gretchen sniffed the cheese in her hand before taking a nibble. “I looked into him when he started at the SOOK but there wasn’t much. He just sort of appeared on the classical music scene a few years back.”
I thought about that. I would have to ask him his real name. Sure, and then he would just take off his mask and reveal all his secrets to me.
“Okay, now that we are full and more agreeable. Spill it,” Roxy demanded.
In as succinct a manner as I could, I replayed the events of the previous night, and a little before. I started with Devlin showing up at my house unexpectedly, then Carla’s sudden absence, the solo (pause forwoot-woots of appreciation), Roddy showing up, and then finally waking up here.
By the time I was done talking, I think an hour had passed and the wine was gone. I sipped my cider and eyed them over the rim as they took in my story.
Gretchen, of course, was the first to speak. “I can’t believe love note guy is back.”
I winced. I had sort of been hoping to keep that part out of the story. But when you only have two exes, and one is Jethro Winston—who obviously wasn’t the one dropping love notes—it wasn’t a surprise that she made the connection.
“Dang it, I hate being new. Who’s the love note guy? What’s that about?” Suzie’s cheeks were flushed, making her emerald eyes sparkle.
Roxy set her empty glass on the granite hearth in front of the fireplace and pulled a blanket to her chin. She yawned sleepily around her sentence. “It’s not just you. I don’t know who he is either.”
“You tell it, Kim. It starts like this, ‘This one time, at band camp …’” Blithe giggled at her own joke and rested her head on the pillow next to Roxy. With Blithe’s pale coloring and Roxy’s edgy-dark look, they were like a yin-yang.
The room had grown warm from the fire despite the chilling winds whistling outside. Our full bellies gave us all a lethargic peace, melting our limbs into wherever the nearest pillow was. I scanned the girls and couldn’t help my contented smile.
“To start, they weren’t love notes. Some were even harsh criticisms, actually. Also, I will have you know it was an orchestra camp—far less phallic-shaped instruments,” I said. “More F-holes, though. And wood.” We all laughed. “My parents basically sent me every summer growing up. Camp Hickory was for the kids of senators and super-fancy old-money types. It was tough to get into. People came from all over the world,” I explained. “You still had to apply, and some really successful people came out of it too.”
“Ohh, like who?” Suzie used the back of her hand to stifle a yawn. “Anybody I know?”
“Well, like Francesca Belia and Karl Norman.” I threw out the names of some of the biggest up and coming classical musicians only to receive blank stares.
“Oh, and YouTube boy … Gah, what was his name? You had the biggest crush on him,” Gretchen ratted me out. Again.
I scrunched up my face. I had really been hoping she’d forgotten about that.
“Who?” Blithe tilted her head in thought.
“You know, the one. He had that huge song and then fell off the map,” Gretchen said. “‘Thoughts of you, my soul on fire,’uh, something, something, ‘I look at you, but
you—’”
“‘You’re looking at him…’” All five of us sang the rest of the chorus.
“‘Can’t Look Back?’ Oh, I loved that song!” Roxy burst out excitedly before calming herself. “Not that I would ever admit it,” she added flatly. She reached for her phone. The white glow from the screen illuminated her face. “‘Erik Jones had a U.S. number one hit for ten weeks,’ blah blah, ‘Trouble with manager.’ Hasn’t been heard of since.” She lowered her phone. “I totally remember that guy. He was so hot.”
“Did you know him?” Suzie asked me.
“Oh, gosh no. He was older—a counselor by the time I went. Then he got so huge. He was already on his way to being somebody, but after that song happened, he exploded.”
“Crazy,” Blithe said.
“You were obsessed with that song.”
“Oh my God. Shut up, Gretchen.” Heat flooded my cheeks. “No more booze for you.”
“Come on, it’s adorable. You would listen to it all the time back then.”
