CHAPTER SEVEN
MEL
Mel's day came and went. She spent an hour or so at the Times, catching up with co-workers and gathering
assignments. Bob was acting a little funny toward her, but she didn't let that bother her. It was possible that his wife, Leslie, had planned date night for them or something and he was nervous about that. Things like date night always made Bob a little squirrely. Showing his emotions was not something Bob did well and he knew that if his wife was planning date night, emotions would ensue.
Mel was sure that was it.
She left the Times and walked through downtown New York in a better mood. The city was doing a wonderful job of helping her forget the horrors of the night before. Well, maybe horrors was a strong word. She breathed in the New York air, smelled the New York smells--a mix of unhealthy carnival foods and car exhaust--and peered in the windows of the upscale boutiques as she passed.
She had made plans to meet up with her best "boyfriend," Manuel for lunch and cocktails after she left work.
This was exactly what she needed to help her get back to normal.
Whatever that was.
Manuel Martinez was fabulous. Not that he was a fabulous man, he was "fabulous" in every sense of the word. In short, Manuel was a queen. He was the ultimate fashionista and very gay. She had never met anyone so happy and proud to be themselves in her entire life. Mel envied Manuel for how completely comfortable and confident he was in his own skin. He was truly her inspiration.
Mel met her South American Adonis during her brief career as a detective with the NYPD. Coincidentally, the NYPD was also how she had met her late husband. At any rate, she met Manuel when she interviewed him as a witness when a girl was found dead in a very happening night club in lower Manhattan, at which he happened to be at, at the time the body was found. She and her partner had interviewed the entire club over the course of a week and she and Manuel hit it off. He had told her she had a special twinkle in her eye. She was drawn by the subtle eyeliner and mascara he was obviously wearing. It was fabulous love at first site.
From there, they hit it off. He introduced her to fashion and art and took her to all the happening, upscale
parties. He shared his boyfriend woes with her and gushed to her over her own husband. The dark, feather-haired, caramel-skinned man had been her escape and salvation on more than one occasion.
That day, Mel met Manuel at an outdoor table at a trendy cafe, kissed his cheek, and sat across from him. He must have been feeling exceptionally fabulous today. Her dark-eyed bestie was dressed in khaki-colored slacks, a salmon-colored button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled past his wrists. His feet were sockless and on them he wore a pair of expensive cream-colored loafers and around his neck he sported an aqua-colored ascot. On his wrist glittered a gold Rolex with a diamond face. Manuel would only be seen in the very best.
The pair ordered wine and then he smiled his brightest, pearly white smile at her. "So. I met someone."
Mel smiled back. "You did? Is he cute?"
"Honey, he's gorgeous! He's a banker. On Wall Street!"
She grinned wider. "Nice!"
Suddenly her phone rang. She wasn't expecting any calls. Drew was getting her headshots done and Manuel
was sitting in front of her. She looked at the number and didn't recognize it. She held the loudly-ringing phone up to Manuel's face. "Do you recognize this number?"
Manuel took a second to focus then shook his head. "Sweetie, I don't even recognize the area code."
Mel looked at her phone again. Tulsa. Had her mom gotten a new cell phone? Lord, please let this be her mother.
Hesitantly, she answered. She felt so bad being so rude to Manuel. But he seemed just as interested in it as
she was trying to be. "Uh, hello?"
There was a male on the other end. Her heart sank. She recognized the voice, but she didn't want to believe
it. "This is she..."
"Hey, Mel. This is Taylor."
She got goose bumps all over all of a sudden. Her throat swelled shut and her tongue felt like sandpaper.
She couldn't get a word out, even if she wanted to. And she honestly didn't want to.
She swiped her thumb over the end symbol as fast as she could and looked up at Manuel in shock.
"Melody," he said puzzled. "Who was that??"
She swallowed a lump before she answered. "A ghost."
"A ghost?" Manuel asked Mel.
"Yes," she said, attempting to collect herself. How had he gotten her number? How had--Drew! It had to be! She knew no good would come of her talking to Zac, she just knew it! She put 'kill Drew' on her mental list of things to do for the rest of the day.
"Well, is this a cute ghost?" Manuel asked, startling her out of her thoughts. "Maybe, a single ghost who maybe decided he was gay and now he's lonely?"
Mel smirked. "I wish, but no. As far from that as it can get. Manuel, can you keep a secret?"
Manuel hadn't had a chance to answer before the waitress came to the table.
"I'll have a Cosmopolitan," Manuel said. "Extra Cosmo." He shined his pearly whites at her.
"I'll have a chardonnay," Mel said. "The whole bottle."
Manuel raised her eyebrows at her. "The whole bottle, huh? This must be some kind of poltergeist demon or
something!"
As the waitress walked away with their order, Mel sighed. "This lunch date may just turn into a drink date.
My appetite seems to have fled the country."
"Oh, girl, tell me about it. I'm watching my figure anyway and I know if I look at that menu I'm going to want to order a dessert and it's so hard to resist. The cheesecake here is fabulous!"
The waitress seemed to return just as quickly as she left. After she dropped off their drinks and poured the
wine, and after they declined lunch, she was gone again.
Mel chuckled. "Someone's earning their tip today."
Manuel got to the point. "Okay, so this ghost. You know I can keep a secret. I never did tell anyone how I had to be your shield when you started your period all over your stark white Chanel in the middle of Fashion Week. I don't think I've ever seen such a heavy flow!"
"Manuel!" Mel hissed. "Could you say that any louder? Besides, what other flow have you ever seen?"
"Oh! I am so sorry! But seriously, yes. You can trust me, because now I must know about this ghostly hottie!"
"Promise not to laugh?"
"Uggh, I promise, now spill!"
Mel took a deep breath. "Okay. My ghost is Taylor Hanson."
Crickets.
Manuel stared at her blankly.
"Of Hanson? The band?" Mel added.
"I'm sorry, not ringing a bell. If I don't know him he must not be THAT hot, gay or straight."
"Well, he's not from the city."
"Then, girl, I don't even care!"
Mel sighed in frustration then brought out the big guns she was hoping not to have to use. If he didn't know it then, she was sure he'd been living under a rock. A big, gay, fabulously sparkling rock.
"MMMBop?"
Manuel gasped and covered his mouth. Mel waited on the laugh she knew was soon to follow.
"Oh my god!" Manuel said. "I totally know who you're talking about now!" He stopped to giggle, then
continued. "I had the biggest crush on those boys! They were the first boys I realized I had a crush on! I mean, I always knew I was different, but those boys helped me discover who I WAS! Who I am now!Wow...that middle one...girl, I was for sure he was batting for my team!"
"Well...that middle one is my ghost."
"Oh, honey. Stop breaking my heart."
Mel smiled as she poured her second glass of wine. Then she told him everything. She told him about hers
and Drew's teenage years that they spent with the guys and she told him about the fateful day she left Tay. "It was just getting so out of control," she said. "We were fighting all the time, like constantly, but neither one of us could bear losing the other one. I was his muse and he was the reason I breathed. But we, as people, were changing and life in general was changing, and it was going to fast that we couldn't control it. I remember it like it was yesterday. We were at a rest stop and we had all stepped off the tour buses. That summer Drew and I had traveled with the band. It was the first summer the entire Hanson family didn't come along. Only their dad. He rode on the other bus. He told us we could ride with the guys but if their mom ever found out it would never happen again. Their dad was pretty cool. Anyway, we had all gone to the restroom, visited the vending machines and did some walking around and Taylor had the cargo door under the bus open, frantically searching through his luggage. I asked him what he was looking for, even though I
already knew. Told me, 'get off my back, it's none of your business.' We had already been together a couple of years, mind you. I was taken aback but instead I offered to help. He yelled at me and told me to leave him alone. And by this time I was pissed and I said, 'You wouldn't be looking for that little Natalie whore's phone number, would you?' And suddenly he stopped what he was doing and turned around and looked at me. I charged past him and shoved the luggage back in and shut up the cargo door and told him he wasn't going to find it. And he was speechless. And if you ever knew this man, he is rarely speechless. But he was also pissed and I could see the rage building inside him. Most women would be afraid of a man after the fights we had but I never was. I knew he was lying and this physically amused me. I was so angry at him that I found it funny and I couldn't control my laughter. And out of nowhere I started giggling uncontrollably. The next thing I knew there was a slam on the side of the bus next to my head and I looked up and Tay was in my face. Behind him I was noticing we were gathering an audience made up of his brothers, Drew, and a couple of roadies. 'What in the fuck did you do?' He had the audacity to get pissed at ME for throwing away the phone number of the girl he was potentially going to cheat on me with! So I told him. I didn't care. I said, 'I found that whore's phone number two whole goddamn days after she gave it to you.' And then I smiled the sweetest smile a crazy bitch could smile and I said just as sweetly, 'And then I burned it up. Down to nothing but ashes. With YOUR lighter, in YOUR ashtray. YOU threw it away when you dumped your ashtray that night.'
And then he was speechless again."
Mel paused and finished her second glass of wine, then poured a third.
"Good for you," Manuel said. "I would have left the bastard, too. You had every right to be a crazy bitch!"
"Believe it or not, that's not actually what I left him for. After I told him my dirty little secret he said, 'What in the fuck gives you the right to go through my personal things?' And then all of a sudden, out of nowhere, the rage inside me just poured out and I started screaming. I said, 'What in the fuck gives YOU the right to hide things from me? Did you think I was going to let you cheat on me?' And he was saying he loved me and he wasn't going to cheat on me and all that crap, never once going to explain why he was frantically searching for the number if he had no intentions to cheat, right? And it all poured out, I couldn't stop myself. Our relationship and all of our fighting and mistrust and all the love/hate that went on just built and built up and it finally erupted and I let him have it, screaming at him at the top of my lungs in the middle of the rest area parking lot. He huffed and puffed, running his hands through his hair and I knew him and I knew it was coming but I was so mad, I didn't care. I felt invincible in the rage I was in. Then he started screaming back at me and my mind was such a cluster I didn't hear a word he said. Then all of a sudden he grabbed both of my wrists and slammed me so hard up against the bus that the back of my head bounced off. Between that and the iron grip he had on my wrists that was cutting my circulation off, I was in some pain. And then he was in my face, his nose almost touching mine, and said to me through his teeth the he loved me more than life and how I had to believe him that he wouldn't cheat and that I could not and would not ever leave him because then our lives would be over. It was freaky. I mean, we'd had some knock down drag outs but he'd never put a hand on me before and he certainly had never gotten creepy like that, ever."
"All those people standing around and nobody stopped this??"
"Well, they did. Almost as fast as it happened, his brother Isaac pulled him off of me and grabbed him by the
collar and shoved him up against the bus next to me and screamed at him that he was to not ever lay a hand on a woman and whatever else. Drew and his other brother Zac ran to me and Zac caught me as I was falling because my knees had gotten so weak with shock, I just didn't know what to do with myself. I found out later that Tay had said to Ike as he had him by the collar that he'd blacked out and never meant to hurt me. They don't believe him but I actually do."
"Mel, that's no excuse."
"Oh, I'm certainly not excusing him for it. Not in the least. And I've never forgiven him for it. But I did know the guy and it seriously was out of character for him. I believe that he is genuinely sorry but it only takes once to lay a hand on me and then I'm done. But I knew we were over anyway, that was just the straw that broke the camel's back. Anyway, as soon as it was all said and done, he tried to say he was sorry but I knew at that moment it was over. I had the bus driver take me to the nearest airport on the way to the next city so I could fly home. I cried and he cried but I never spoke to him one word from the rest stop to the airport. I never even told him goodbye. And it's been ten years since and I've never spoken to him. I guess neither one of us technically had closure, but I don't feel he deserves it. Does he? What do you think?"
"Girl he tried to cheat on you and then he put his hands on you. He wouldn't even deserve it if you spit on
him."
"Thank you, exactly! It pisses me off, Manuel. It pisses me off because after that he got to go and have his
career and make his money--oh, you know he's married to the whore? The subject of his almost-cheating?"
"No!"
"Yes! Not only is me married to her, but they've been married for TEN years!"
"What a bastard!"
"I know! He gets to have his career and his happy little marriage. He gets to hurt me AND have his nice, cushy little life and what do I get? I dead husband! You know Tay is the reason I came to New York and joined the NYPD and learned the things I learned. I wouldn't have a problem putting the barrel of a gun right between his eyes and watching him shit his pants."
"Honey, I think maybe you've had too much to drink."
"Wouldn't be the first time I've heard that in less than 24 hours."
Suddenly, as if on cue, Mel's phone rang once more. It was the same number. "Oh my god, he's calling me
again!"
She ignored the call once again as the waitress came by with the check. As Mel and Manuel signed for their credit cards, her voicemail alert went off.
"Jesus Christ," she said. "I'm not even listening to this."
"Wait!" said Manuel. "Can I listen to it?"
Mel curled her lip in disgust.
"Seriously! I'm dying to hear what he has to say. I won't tell you if you don't want me to. But somebody needs to know. What if somebody died?"
"I would hope that I wouldn't be the first phone call."
Begrudgingly, and partly out of her own morbid curiosity, she handed Manuel her phone. He eagerly took it from her and dialed her voicemail. She tried to read his face as he listened but he was stone-faced. Best poker face in Manhattan.
He proceeded to erase the voicemail and handed her back her phone. "Do I need to hear it?" she asked.
"He has a cute voice."
Mel rolled her eyes.
The pair stood and began their walk down the street, away from the restaurant. That was why she preferred outdoor tables. Easy escape.
"So do you want to hear what he said?"
"I believe the question was, do I NEED to hear what he said?"
"I don't know. Does 'I understand why you don't want anything to do with me and I totally deserve it but I'd like a chance to talk with you about it,' constitute as something you might need to hear?"
Mel looked him square in the eye. "I guess if it didn't, it wouldn't have mattered now, would it?"
Manuel smiled his irresistible pearly white smile at her. "You'll thank me later."
Mel stuck her tongue out at him and they continued down the busy Manhattan street.
_______________________________________________
DREW
It took Drew almost the entire hour to get to her shoot. It only took that long because she detested the
subway. She and Mel both did and they only used it out of desperation which was rarely. So she decided to huff it, take a cab, and huff it some more.
On the way to the shoot, she thought of nothing but Zac. Their relationship had been anything but
conventional. Then again, conventional was something that Zac and his brothers definitely weren't.
She and Zac's relationship was built mostly on sex. Not saying that was all they ever did but it was starting to
seem like it. They honestly got along and they were great friends but it all was starting to seem like sex, sex, sex. So they decided to give sex a break. Surprisingly, it had been Zac's idea and he was the one who brought it up. Drew was kind of confused about it at first but she eventually gave in. She was in love with Zac and
would have done anything he asked her to do. And the more thought she put into it, the more she realized he was right. They did need to dedicate some time to their actually relationship. The sex part was passing with flying colors. So they decided to tone it down.
This lasted an entire week. One. Whole. Week.
Well, if the attraction is there, is there really a point in fighting it? Not really.
Drew's grandparents were wealthy. They lived on the East Coast and they were constantly traveling, so to make up for their continued absence, they wired her money and bought her expensive gifts. One of these was a car. A navy blue, T-top Camaro V6. Whenever she and Zac were in it together, it drove him crazy, and not in the good way. Drew wasn't exactly known for her driving and as soon as she had pulled up in her new car, everyone had placed bets on how long the car would actually last.
Driving was actually a big reason why Drew loved New York--because she didn't have to. The only car she owned now was a Lexus that was parked at her grandparents' beach house in the Hamptons so she could have something to drive around town when she visited.
Anyway, one particular day when she and Zac were in the Camaro, he had her pull over so that he could speak to her without fear of throwing up mid-sentence. He had told her that maybe the break was kind of silly and he knew that taking a break from sex wasn't going to work in their relationship. Perhaps they could just work on taking it slow, he had said. Try a little harder on the relationship, a little less on the sex.
And it was the first time he told her he loved her. He had nervously explained to her that he had a hard time
expressing his feelings because he was afraid to get too attached. And that sex had seemed like a suitable substitution. If they were having sex, they weren't talking about their relationship. And then he wouldn't
have to talk about his feelings. And everyone was happy. But he wasn't and that was why he felt the need to halt on the sex, so that he could get his thoughts together. Coherently.
And then he had laid her out on the hood of her Camaro and they had sex right there on her car. Thank god for deserted roads.
Hearing his voice on the phone the previous night had taken her back to that very day. Every second of that
time on the side of the road felt just like it happened yesterday. Every single second.
The cab came to a stop and interrupted her thoughts. She paid the driver and walked the next two blocks to the shoot. In the studio, they did her hair, her makeup, changed her shirt and then she spent the next hour sitting on a stool and turning her head in about a bajillion different directions as they click-click-clicked away at her. Normally, headshots were the bane of her existence, but not today. Today, she was thankful she had some work to focus on.
Afterward, as she changed shirts in the "dressing room," if you wanted to call it one, her agent suddenly came bounding down the hall, excitedly. "Oh my god, Drew, they loved it!" What was up with gay men? They were prettier than women these days. He was even pretty as he jumped and clapped at her.
"Huh?" she asked, puzzled.
"The casting director! For the movie! Your video audition! They saw it and you got a call back! They want to see you ASAP! As we speak, I'm just waiting for the time and place! This is it, Drew, I can feel it!"
Drew was stunned. All of a sudden, life was moving too fast. She had just reconnected with Zac and her life
was already trying to whisk her away. This had to be how the guys felt every time they went on tour.
_________________________________________________
After the shoot, Drew came home and drew herself a bath. She had literally just showered hours ago, but they had no hot tub in the Brownstone, so the bath was the next best thing to relaxation she was going to get. She started the water, making sure it was extra steamy, and added lavender bath oil to her water. Changing out of her clothes and into her robe, she wandered into the kitchen for a glass of wine and came back to the bathroom to light some candles. She then slipped off her robe, switched on her radio to some light jazz, stepped in the tub and made herself comfortable. She smiled to herself and closed her eyes as sweat from the
hot water began to form on her forehead. This was the life. She had the apartment to herself, she had her music and her wine and her lavender. She could finally relax.
"DREW!!!!"
Mel's voice boomed her name from outside her bedroom door.
And it scared the shit out of Drew. Her eyes flew open and her body jolted to the reaction of the sound of Mel's voice. Nobody was supposed to be home! Jesus Christ, could she bathe herself in peace today??
"TUB!" Drew yelled back.
In seconds Mel burst through Drew's bathroom door. "Do you have any fucking idea what that man is up to???" Mel spotted Drew's half-empty wine glass on the side of the tub and in one swift move, grabbed it and downed it faster than Drew could blink.
"Wha--that's--" Drew said, trying to object to the already empty wine glass. She sighed in defeat. "Dare I ask?"
"He has my goddamn phone number!"
This stunned even Drew. "Who, Taylor? How?"
"I don't know! But he's already called twice!"
"Well what did he say?"
"I didn't talk to him. The first time, I hung up on him. The second time I let Manuel listen to the
voicemail."
"Well what does Manuel say he said?"
Mel rolled her eyes. "Oh, stupid bullshit about how he understands if I won't talk to him and that he deserves it but he wants to talk about it. Please, as if that's going to happen."
It was clear that Drew was not going to get through this bath. Her water was already starting to cool off.
And it was also clear that Mel had been drinking. Again.
"Okay. Let me get finished up in here and then I'll meet you in the living room. Stay out of the alcohol!"
Mel didn't make any promises but she did leave Drew in peace to finish what was left of her bath.
'And here we go again,' Drew thought to herself. 'Ten years later and some things never change.'
MEL
Mel's day came and went. She spent an hour or so at the Times, catching up with co-workers and gathering
assignments. Bob was acting a little funny toward her, but she didn't let that bother her. It was possible that his wife, Leslie, had planned date night for them or something and he was nervous about that. Things like date night always made Bob a little squirrely. Showing his emotions was not something Bob did well and he knew that if his wife was planning date night, emotions would ensue.
Mel was sure that was it.
She left the Times and walked through downtown New York in a better mood. The city was doing a wonderful job of helping her forget the horrors of the night before. Well, maybe horrors was a strong word. She breathed in the New York air, smelled the New York smells--a mix of unhealthy carnival foods and car exhaust--and peered in the windows of the upscale boutiques as she passed.
She had made plans to meet up with her best "boyfriend," Manuel for lunch and cocktails after she left work.
This was exactly what she needed to help her get back to normal.
Whatever that was.
Manuel Martinez was fabulous. Not that he was a fabulous man, he was "fabulous" in every sense of the word. In short, Manuel was a queen. He was the ultimate fashionista and very gay. She had never met anyone so happy and proud to be themselves in her entire life. Mel envied Manuel for how completely comfortable and confident he was in his own skin. He was truly her inspiration.
Mel met her South American Adonis during her brief career as a detective with the NYPD. Coincidentally, the NYPD was also how she had met her late husband. At any rate, she met Manuel when she interviewed him as a witness when a girl was found dead in a very happening night club in lower Manhattan, at which he happened to be at, at the time the body was found. She and her partner had interviewed the entire club over the course of a week and she and Manuel hit it off. He had told her she had a special twinkle in her eye. She was drawn by the subtle eyeliner and mascara he was obviously wearing. It was fabulous love at first site.
From there, they hit it off. He introduced her to fashion and art and took her to all the happening, upscale
parties. He shared his boyfriend woes with her and gushed to her over her own husband. The dark, feather-haired, caramel-skinned man had been her escape and salvation on more than one occasion.
That day, Mel met Manuel at an outdoor table at a trendy cafe, kissed his cheek, and sat across from him. He must have been feeling exceptionally fabulous today. Her dark-eyed bestie was dressed in khaki-colored slacks, a salmon-colored button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled past his wrists. His feet were sockless and on them he wore a pair of expensive cream-colored loafers and around his neck he sported an aqua-colored ascot. On his wrist glittered a gold Rolex with a diamond face. Manuel would only be seen in the very best.
The pair ordered wine and then he smiled his brightest, pearly white smile at her. "So. I met someone."
Mel smiled back. "You did? Is he cute?"
"Honey, he's gorgeous! He's a banker. On Wall Street!"
She grinned wider. "Nice!"
Suddenly her phone rang. She wasn't expecting any calls. Drew was getting her headshots done and Manuel
was sitting in front of her. She looked at the number and didn't recognize it. She held the loudly-ringing phone up to Manuel's face. "Do you recognize this number?"
Manuel took a second to focus then shook his head. "Sweetie, I don't even recognize the area code."
Mel looked at her phone again. Tulsa. Had her mom gotten a new cell phone? Lord, please let this be her mother.
Hesitantly, she answered. She felt so bad being so rude to Manuel. But he seemed just as interested in it as
she was trying to be. "Uh, hello?"
There was a male on the other end. Her heart sank. She recognized the voice, but she didn't want to believe
it. "This is she..."
"Hey, Mel. This is Taylor."
She got goose bumps all over all of a sudden. Her throat swelled shut and her tongue felt like sandpaper.
She couldn't get a word out, even if she wanted to. And she honestly didn't want to.
She swiped her thumb over the end symbol as fast as she could and looked up at Manuel in shock.
"Melody," he said puzzled. "Who was that??"
She swallowed a lump before she answered. "A ghost."
"A ghost?" Manuel asked Mel.
"Yes," she said, attempting to collect herself. How had he gotten her number? How had--Drew! It had to be! She knew no good would come of her talking to Zac, she just knew it! She put 'kill Drew' on her mental list of things to do for the rest of the day.
"Well, is this a cute ghost?" Manuel asked, startling her out of her thoughts. "Maybe, a single ghost who maybe decided he was gay and now he's lonely?"
Mel smirked. "I wish, but no. As far from that as it can get. Manuel, can you keep a secret?"
Manuel hadn't had a chance to answer before the waitress came to the table.
"I'll have a Cosmopolitan," Manuel said. "Extra Cosmo." He shined his pearly whites at her.
"I'll have a chardonnay," Mel said. "The whole bottle."
Manuel raised her eyebrows at her. "The whole bottle, huh? This must be some kind of poltergeist demon or
something!"
As the waitress walked away with their order, Mel sighed. "This lunch date may just turn into a drink date.
My appetite seems to have fled the country."
"Oh, girl, tell me about it. I'm watching my figure anyway and I know if I look at that menu I'm going to want to order a dessert and it's so hard to resist. The cheesecake here is fabulous!"
The waitress seemed to return just as quickly as she left. After she dropped off their drinks and poured the
wine, and after they declined lunch, she was gone again.
Mel chuckled. "Someone's earning their tip today."
Manuel got to the point. "Okay, so this ghost. You know I can keep a secret. I never did tell anyone how I had to be your shield when you started your period all over your stark white Chanel in the middle of Fashion Week. I don't think I've ever seen such a heavy flow!"
"Manuel!" Mel hissed. "Could you say that any louder? Besides, what other flow have you ever seen?"
"Oh! I am so sorry! But seriously, yes. You can trust me, because now I must know about this ghostly hottie!"
"Promise not to laugh?"
"Uggh, I promise, now spill!"
Mel took a deep breath. "Okay. My ghost is Taylor Hanson."
Crickets.
Manuel stared at her blankly.
"Of Hanson? The band?" Mel added.
"I'm sorry, not ringing a bell. If I don't know him he must not be THAT hot, gay or straight."
"Well, he's not from the city."
"Then, girl, I don't even care!"
Mel sighed in frustration then brought out the big guns she was hoping not to have to use. If he didn't know it then, she was sure he'd been living under a rock. A big, gay, fabulously sparkling rock.
"MMMBop?"
Manuel gasped and covered his mouth. Mel waited on the laugh she knew was soon to follow.
"Oh my god!" Manuel said. "I totally know who you're talking about now!" He stopped to giggle, then
continued. "I had the biggest crush on those boys! They were the first boys I realized I had a crush on! I mean, I always knew I was different, but those boys helped me discover who I WAS! Who I am now!Wow...that middle one...girl, I was for sure he was batting for my team!"
"Well...that middle one is my ghost."
"Oh, honey. Stop breaking my heart."
Mel smiled as she poured her second glass of wine. Then she told him everything. She told him about hers
and Drew's teenage years that they spent with the guys and she told him about the fateful day she left Tay. "It was just getting so out of control," she said. "We were fighting all the time, like constantly, but neither one of us could bear losing the other one. I was his muse and he was the reason I breathed. But we, as people, were changing and life in general was changing, and it was going to fast that we couldn't control it. I remember it like it was yesterday. We were at a rest stop and we had all stepped off the tour buses. That summer Drew and I had traveled with the band. It was the first summer the entire Hanson family didn't come along. Only their dad. He rode on the other bus. He told us we could ride with the guys but if their mom ever found out it would never happen again. Their dad was pretty cool. Anyway, we had all gone to the restroom, visited the vending machines and did some walking around and Taylor had the cargo door under the bus open, frantically searching through his luggage. I asked him what he was looking for, even though I
already knew. Told me, 'get off my back, it's none of your business.' We had already been together a couple of years, mind you. I was taken aback but instead I offered to help. He yelled at me and told me to leave him alone. And by this time I was pissed and I said, 'You wouldn't be looking for that little Natalie whore's phone number, would you?' And suddenly he stopped what he was doing and turned around and looked at me. I charged past him and shoved the luggage back in and shut up the cargo door and told him he wasn't going to find it. And he was speechless. And if you ever knew this man, he is rarely speechless. But he was also pissed and I could see the rage building inside him. Most women would be afraid of a man after the fights we had but I never was. I knew he was lying and this physically amused me. I was so angry at him that I found it funny and I couldn't control my laughter. And out of nowhere I started giggling uncontrollably. The next thing I knew there was a slam on the side of the bus next to my head and I looked up and Tay was in my face. Behind him I was noticing we were gathering an audience made up of his brothers, Drew, and a couple of roadies. 'What in the fuck did you do?' He had the audacity to get pissed at ME for throwing away the phone number of the girl he was potentially going to cheat on me with! So I told him. I didn't care. I said, 'I found that whore's phone number two whole goddamn days after she gave it to you.' And then I smiled the sweetest smile a crazy bitch could smile and I said just as sweetly, 'And then I burned it up. Down to nothing but ashes. With YOUR lighter, in YOUR ashtray. YOU threw it away when you dumped your ashtray that night.'
And then he was speechless again."
Mel paused and finished her second glass of wine, then poured a third.
"Good for you," Manuel said. "I would have left the bastard, too. You had every right to be a crazy bitch!"
"Believe it or not, that's not actually what I left him for. After I told him my dirty little secret he said, 'What in the fuck gives you the right to go through my personal things?' And then all of a sudden, out of nowhere, the rage inside me just poured out and I started screaming. I said, 'What in the fuck gives YOU the right to hide things from me? Did you think I was going to let you cheat on me?' And he was saying he loved me and he wasn't going to cheat on me and all that crap, never once going to explain why he was frantically searching for the number if he had no intentions to cheat, right? And it all poured out, I couldn't stop myself. Our relationship and all of our fighting and mistrust and all the love/hate that went on just built and built up and it finally erupted and I let him have it, screaming at him at the top of my lungs in the middle of the rest area parking lot. He huffed and puffed, running his hands through his hair and I knew him and I knew it was coming but I was so mad, I didn't care. I felt invincible in the rage I was in. Then he started screaming back at me and my mind was such a cluster I didn't hear a word he said. Then all of a sudden he grabbed both of my wrists and slammed me so hard up against the bus that the back of my head bounced off. Between that and the iron grip he had on my wrists that was cutting my circulation off, I was in some pain. And then he was in my face, his nose almost touching mine, and said to me through his teeth the he loved me more than life and how I had to believe him that he wouldn't cheat and that I could not and would not ever leave him because then our lives would be over. It was freaky. I mean, we'd had some knock down drag outs but he'd never put a hand on me before and he certainly had never gotten creepy like that, ever."
"All those people standing around and nobody stopped this??"
"Well, they did. Almost as fast as it happened, his brother Isaac pulled him off of me and grabbed him by the
collar and shoved him up against the bus next to me and screamed at him that he was to not ever lay a hand on a woman and whatever else. Drew and his other brother Zac ran to me and Zac caught me as I was falling because my knees had gotten so weak with shock, I just didn't know what to do with myself. I found out later that Tay had said to Ike as he had him by the collar that he'd blacked out and never meant to hurt me. They don't believe him but I actually do."
"Mel, that's no excuse."
"Oh, I'm certainly not excusing him for it. Not in the least. And I've never forgiven him for it. But I did know the guy and it seriously was out of character for him. I believe that he is genuinely sorry but it only takes once to lay a hand on me and then I'm done. But I knew we were over anyway, that was just the straw that broke the camel's back. Anyway, as soon as it was all said and done, he tried to say he was sorry but I knew at that moment it was over. I had the bus driver take me to the nearest airport on the way to the next city so I could fly home. I cried and he cried but I never spoke to him one word from the rest stop to the airport. I never even told him goodbye. And it's been ten years since and I've never spoken to him. I guess neither one of us technically had closure, but I don't feel he deserves it. Does he? What do you think?"
"Girl he tried to cheat on you and then he put his hands on you. He wouldn't even deserve it if you spit on
him."
"Thank you, exactly! It pisses me off, Manuel. It pisses me off because after that he got to go and have his
career and make his money--oh, you know he's married to the whore? The subject of his almost-cheating?"
"No!"
"Yes! Not only is me married to her, but they've been married for TEN years!"
"What a bastard!"
"I know! He gets to have his career and his happy little marriage. He gets to hurt me AND have his nice, cushy little life and what do I get? I dead husband! You know Tay is the reason I came to New York and joined the NYPD and learned the things I learned. I wouldn't have a problem putting the barrel of a gun right between his eyes and watching him shit his pants."
"Honey, I think maybe you've had too much to drink."
"Wouldn't be the first time I've heard that in less than 24 hours."
Suddenly, as if on cue, Mel's phone rang once more. It was the same number. "Oh my god, he's calling me
again!"
She ignored the call once again as the waitress came by with the check. As Mel and Manuel signed for their credit cards, her voicemail alert went off.
"Jesus Christ," she said. "I'm not even listening to this."
"Wait!" said Manuel. "Can I listen to it?"
Mel curled her lip in disgust.
"Seriously! I'm dying to hear what he has to say. I won't tell you if you don't want me to. But somebody needs to know. What if somebody died?"
"I would hope that I wouldn't be the first phone call."
Begrudgingly, and partly out of her own morbid curiosity, she handed Manuel her phone. He eagerly took it from her and dialed her voicemail. She tried to read his face as he listened but he was stone-faced. Best poker face in Manhattan.
He proceeded to erase the voicemail and handed her back her phone. "Do I need to hear it?" she asked.
"He has a cute voice."
Mel rolled her eyes.
The pair stood and began their walk down the street, away from the restaurant. That was why she preferred outdoor tables. Easy escape.
"So do you want to hear what he said?"
"I believe the question was, do I NEED to hear what he said?"
"I don't know. Does 'I understand why you don't want anything to do with me and I totally deserve it but I'd like a chance to talk with you about it,' constitute as something you might need to hear?"
Mel looked him square in the eye. "I guess if it didn't, it wouldn't have mattered now, would it?"
Manuel smiled his irresistible pearly white smile at her. "You'll thank me later."
Mel stuck her tongue out at him and they continued down the busy Manhattan street.
_______________________________________________
DREW
It took Drew almost the entire hour to get to her shoot. It only took that long because she detested the
subway. She and Mel both did and they only used it out of desperation which was rarely. So she decided to huff it, take a cab, and huff it some more.
On the way to the shoot, she thought of nothing but Zac. Their relationship had been anything but
conventional. Then again, conventional was something that Zac and his brothers definitely weren't.
She and Zac's relationship was built mostly on sex. Not saying that was all they ever did but it was starting to
seem like it. They honestly got along and they were great friends but it all was starting to seem like sex, sex, sex. So they decided to give sex a break. Surprisingly, it had been Zac's idea and he was the one who brought it up. Drew was kind of confused about it at first but she eventually gave in. She was in love with Zac and
would have done anything he asked her to do. And the more thought she put into it, the more she realized he was right. They did need to dedicate some time to their actually relationship. The sex part was passing with flying colors. So they decided to tone it down.
This lasted an entire week. One. Whole. Week.
Well, if the attraction is there, is there really a point in fighting it? Not really.
Drew's grandparents were wealthy. They lived on the East Coast and they were constantly traveling, so to make up for their continued absence, they wired her money and bought her expensive gifts. One of these was a car. A navy blue, T-top Camaro V6. Whenever she and Zac were in it together, it drove him crazy, and not in the good way. Drew wasn't exactly known for her driving and as soon as she had pulled up in her new car, everyone had placed bets on how long the car would actually last.
Driving was actually a big reason why Drew loved New York--because she didn't have to. The only car she owned now was a Lexus that was parked at her grandparents' beach house in the Hamptons so she could have something to drive around town when she visited.
Anyway, one particular day when she and Zac were in the Camaro, he had her pull over so that he could speak to her without fear of throwing up mid-sentence. He had told her that maybe the break was kind of silly and he knew that taking a break from sex wasn't going to work in their relationship. Perhaps they could just work on taking it slow, he had said. Try a little harder on the relationship, a little less on the sex.
And it was the first time he told her he loved her. He had nervously explained to her that he had a hard time
expressing his feelings because he was afraid to get too attached. And that sex had seemed like a suitable substitution. If they were having sex, they weren't talking about their relationship. And then he wouldn't
have to talk about his feelings. And everyone was happy. But he wasn't and that was why he felt the need to halt on the sex, so that he could get his thoughts together. Coherently.
And then he had laid her out on the hood of her Camaro and they had sex right there on her car. Thank god for deserted roads.
Hearing his voice on the phone the previous night had taken her back to that very day. Every second of that
time on the side of the road felt just like it happened yesterday. Every single second.
The cab came to a stop and interrupted her thoughts. She paid the driver and walked the next two blocks to the shoot. In the studio, they did her hair, her makeup, changed her shirt and then she spent the next hour sitting on a stool and turning her head in about a bajillion different directions as they click-click-clicked away at her. Normally, headshots were the bane of her existence, but not today. Today, she was thankful she had some work to focus on.
Afterward, as she changed shirts in the "dressing room," if you wanted to call it one, her agent suddenly came bounding down the hall, excitedly. "Oh my god, Drew, they loved it!" What was up with gay men? They were prettier than women these days. He was even pretty as he jumped and clapped at her.
"Huh?" she asked, puzzled.
"The casting director! For the movie! Your video audition! They saw it and you got a call back! They want to see you ASAP! As we speak, I'm just waiting for the time and place! This is it, Drew, I can feel it!"
Drew was stunned. All of a sudden, life was moving too fast. She had just reconnected with Zac and her life
was already trying to whisk her away. This had to be how the guys felt every time they went on tour.
_________________________________________________
After the shoot, Drew came home and drew herself a bath. She had literally just showered hours ago, but they had no hot tub in the Brownstone, so the bath was the next best thing to relaxation she was going to get. She started the water, making sure it was extra steamy, and added lavender bath oil to her water. Changing out of her clothes and into her robe, she wandered into the kitchen for a glass of wine and came back to the bathroom to light some candles. She then slipped off her robe, switched on her radio to some light jazz, stepped in the tub and made herself comfortable. She smiled to herself and closed her eyes as sweat from the
hot water began to form on her forehead. This was the life. She had the apartment to herself, she had her music and her wine and her lavender. She could finally relax.
"DREW!!!!"
Mel's voice boomed her name from outside her bedroom door.
And it scared the shit out of Drew. Her eyes flew open and her body jolted to the reaction of the sound of Mel's voice. Nobody was supposed to be home! Jesus Christ, could she bathe herself in peace today??
"TUB!" Drew yelled back.
In seconds Mel burst through Drew's bathroom door. "Do you have any fucking idea what that man is up to???" Mel spotted Drew's half-empty wine glass on the side of the tub and in one swift move, grabbed it and downed it faster than Drew could blink.
"Wha--that's--" Drew said, trying to object to the already empty wine glass. She sighed in defeat. "Dare I ask?"
"He has my goddamn phone number!"
This stunned even Drew. "Who, Taylor? How?"
"I don't know! But he's already called twice!"
"Well what did he say?"
"I didn't talk to him. The first time, I hung up on him. The second time I let Manuel listen to the
voicemail."
"Well what does Manuel say he said?"
Mel rolled her eyes. "Oh, stupid bullshit about how he understands if I won't talk to him and that he deserves it but he wants to talk about it. Please, as if that's going to happen."
It was clear that Drew was not going to get through this bath. Her water was already starting to cool off.
And it was also clear that Mel had been drinking. Again.
"Okay. Let me get finished up in here and then I'll meet you in the living room. Stay out of the alcohol!"
Mel didn't make any promises but she did leave Drew in peace to finish what was left of her bath.
'And here we go again,' Drew thought to herself. 'Ten years later and some things never change.'