Broken Notes Page 6

  I turned off the stove; my sandwich was ready. I went to check on Jake one more time – thinking of only the letter. I gulped as I walked back, making a beeline for it. I took it out and set it down next to the plate, where my sandwich sat. There was nowhere for me to sit, so I hopped up on the counter and took a bite, staring at the letter. I took a few more bites and wiped my hands on my dress. I took the letter out and went straight for the last page – Love Always, Sophia.

  8

  Jake

  I found Aly sitting on the counter in the kitchen, eating. She’d looked adorable sitting there, with her legs dangling, looking windblown and reading something. As I approached her, she looked up, and her hand dropped suddenly to her side. She looked pained and shocked to see me. I noticed immediately the letter and looked at the opened drawer I’d put it in. I’d forgotten to throw it away – fuckin’ great.

  She waved the letter at me. “You were living with her.” Aly threw the letter at me and picked up her sandwich, chomping into it angrily.

  “No I wasn’t,” I said, and picked up the scattered pages from the floor, crumpling them into a ball.

  “It says for you to come pick up your things,” she said through a mouthful.

  “That’s because, yes, I have some stuff over there.”

  She swallowed and shook her head, hopping off the counter. “I don’t believe you.” She stuffed the last bit of her sandwich in her mouth and walked past me without another word. I just stood there, staring at the ball of paper in my hand, kicking myself for not throwing it out right after I read it.

  Aly sat in the chair in the corner of the bedroom with her phone in her hand, staring blankly at it. “Aly, I swear I wasn’t living with her. I mean, of course we stayed together. We lived in the same building.” She finally looked up at me upon hearing those words.

  “I don’t believe you.” Her chin dropped back down to her chest. “I feel terrible for her. How could you let this go on? She says she knows this has to do with me…how?” She paused, totally confused. “I mean, is that my future? Jake?”

  “No! No it’s not!” My heart raced as I tried to convince her. “Look, I told you everything that I thought you needed to know. I know I should have taken care of her months ago. I’m sorry. But it’s not like we haven’t talked about this. You knew she was still around, just like I knew you were still hanging out with what’s-his-fuck.”

  She glared at me. “His name is Nathan…and I wasn’t still fucking him.”

  Ouch – I’d never admitted that, but I wasn’t gonna deny it.

  “Jake, I just want this to go away. I’m here. I’ve uprooted myself for you…for us, for the promise of us. You’re being a complete sorry-ass…”

  I stood there, feeling like a total skid mark. “You’re right. Aly, I’m really sorry. I told you how I felt about this in London. It’s just a tough one, you know, because I don’t want to hurt her. I didn’t want to hurt her. I don’t want to hurt you either.” I sulked over to the bed, deciding to lay it all out there. “When I moved into the same building as her, we became quick friends. I didn’t know anyone here except the guys. We were friends for over a year before we hooked up. She’s a good-time, light-hearted, a bit of a party girl, but nothing over the top. She’s in the band scene, a promoter for clubs. She was a great wing-man during those dark days of getting over you.”

  Aly stared at me with empathy in her eyes – probably for Sophia. “How does she know this whole thing has to do with me?”

  I sighed heavily. Aly didn’t know about the song I’d recorded after her visit – it was ramping up for release as a single to our next record. “I recorded a new song, and she heard it and called me out on it. She knew, she just knew.” I shrugged, shaking my head, thinking about how intuitive it was. Girls always knew when shit was fucked up.

  I spent the rest of the night holding Aly and reassuring her that there was no intent to outright lie to her. She impressed me with her resilient attitude. I’m not sure I would have been as forgiving or accepting under the circumstances. I felt like I didn’t deserve her; maybe I didn’t.

  Our conversation drifted to the apartment. I curiously watched as Aly scoured the Internet for local home stores and she plotted our pursuit of furnishing. For a moment, I thought of bringing up what her parents revealed to me during our apology session – her choice of colleges and the possibility of her not staying in New York. I didn’t think she would be so into stuffing the apartment full of things she loved if she wasn’t planning on staying, so I didn’t bring it up.

  ***

  I’d tossed and turned all night, watching Aly sleep, tempted to brush the hair from her face, to kiss her supple pink lips. I had to stop myself on a number of occasions. I’d told Aly I’d take care of Sophia first thing, and I did by waking up at seven AM and showing up at her usual pilates appointment – at least, I’d hoped it was still usual. My heart beat erratically in anticipation of seeing her. I paced the lobby, waiting. Watching the minutes change on my phone.

  Sophia came through the door, and my heart stopped. She had her blonde hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, and wore black body-hugging workout gear. She looked great. I felt like such an asshole. She saw me right away, and I thought immediately that I should have let her know – alarm covered her face. She glanced around at the other women making their way into the lobby, undoubtedly hoping no one would notice me. I walked to meet her with damp palms.

  “Hey.” I stuffed my nearly dripping hands into my pockets, and she just looked at me with gloomy eyes.

  She looked over her shoulder and back at me, tucking her arms tight to her chest. “What are you doing here?” she said bitterly.

  “I just want to say I’m sorry.”

  “Okay,” she said, and blinked, nodding her head twice. She turned to walk away from me and I grabbed her elbow.

  “Hey, don’t do this,” I begged.

  She swiftly turned, yanking away from me. “Don’t fucking touch me!” Her voice echoed loudly around the grey marbled lobby, taking me aback. I held my arms up in surrender. I looked around, and for a millisecond everyone stopped breathing, looking at us. “Have a nice life, Jake Masters. Come and get your shit out of my house,” she barked without turning around.

  “I’m sorry, Sophia,” I shouted out at her, not caring who was staring at me. I looked at the ladies who remained in the lobby. “I’m sorry,” I said to them, and walked out the door.

  At least I tried, I told myself, but I deserved her hatred. I have to do better, I repeated in my head over and over again during my cab ride home. As we approached my pad at 71st Street, I decided to walk from there.

  “You can pull over here,” I instructed the cabbie and paid my fare. It was just after nine AM, and my phone chimed out a text message from Aly, who was wondering where I was.

  I replied with – I’M AROUND THE CORNER, BE UP IN A SEC. I was heavy-hearted and hoped that Sophia would forgive me someday. I wiped my damp forehead. It had warmed up fast and the air grew thick with humidity. As I approached the corner, I spotted a couple paparazzi – Great, what the fuck do they want? Then I realized one of them was Marty – my usual stalker. I stuffed my hands into my pant pockets and pretended that my sunglasses were an invisible cloak – it didn’t work.

  “Hey Jake,” Marty greeted, overly excited, pacing me. Marty Jones was a tall, studious-looking guy who wore blue-rimmed glasses and neatly pressed button-ups. He wasn’t the usual t-shirt sportin’, bark-in-your-face pap. “Who’s the girl?” he asked as he shuffled next to me up the street. “Is it your high school sweetheart? I think I recognize her.” – “Is this your new address?” – “What happened with Sophia?”

  I abruptly stopped, grabbed his shoulder, and noticed a younger version of Marty following behind us, snapping pictures. “Who the fuck is that?” I pointed to the exclamation point of a boy, his hair sticking straight up.

  “That’s my little brother, Michael.” Marty pushed his glasses up higher
on his nose and gulped. His hand shook.

  I sighed, looking between the both of them, not sure what to think, and began walking again. “I’d like to make sure I have my information correct, but I’m pretty sure that’s Alyssa. Your muse.”

  Hearing the word muse made me stop. “Marty, you need to get a real job.” I encouraged.

  “This is my real job. I’m a music journalist.” He stood tall. He was proud of the label he gave himself.

  “What publication do you work for?” I’d never asked him that; actually, I’d never spent anytime conversing with the guy, always smiling, but waving him off. No wonder he was shaking like a leaf in a windstorm.

  Marty cleared his throat. “I work for myself. I have a music blog.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Nineteen.”

  Even though we were nearly the same age, I felt so much older. “You in college?”

  “No.”

  I wanted to lecture him that if he wanted to be a serious journalist, he needed to go to college, like I was some fucking expert or something, but I refrained. I decided to throw the guy a bone. Hell, I had a dream once. I knew what it was like. “Yes. It’s Alyssa. Yes, this is where we live, but if you print that anywhere, I’ll have to kick your ass. I don’t need people showing up here.”

  “I promise.” He swallowed, looking at his little brother. “You better not say anything either. This is important stuff.” He pointed at Michael, who watched, in awe of his big brother. Marty’s face was flush. I felt for the guy.

  “I tell you what,” I said, smiling at Marty. “Alyssa and I are going for a walk soon. Hang out, and I’ll let you take a shot of us without breaking your camera.” His eyes lit up like he’d just hit the lottery. “Ask something intelligent, and maybe I’ll give you an answer.”

  9

  Jake

  “Where’d you go?” Aly inquired as she pulled eggs and bread out of the fridge.

  My stomach churned with unease. “I took care of Sophia.”

  Aly stopped moving and stared at me as the fridge door swung itself shut. “Really,” she said dryly, her eyes locking in on mine. “And?”

  “It’s done.” I shrugged. Her chest heaved with a heavy sigh, but no words followed. She placed the food on the counter and went back to the fridge, removing more items. I wasn’t used to her being tight-lipped. “Not much else to say. Just relieved it’s over.”

  “Me too.” She smiled softly, a hint of sadness in her eyes. I assumed she felt for Sophia; I did. I waited for Aly to unload the customary cache of questions, but she never did. So unlike her. It made me wanna ask her questions, but I let it ride, and instead she changed the subject to our search for furnishings.

  Aly cooked a delicious breakfast of thick, crunchy French toast sprinkled with powdered sugar and bacon – reminding me of home. The whole notion brought me peace and an overwhelming feeling of contentment, something I’d not recalled having ever since my father died. My hope for my future with Aly was at an all-time-high.

  Without haste, we left and made our way through the lobby. The excitement of spending the day doing normal couple things had us giddy, and seeing Marty standing outside waiting for us made me stoked to officially unveil Alyssa to the world. Just like Marty said, she was my muse, and I wanted everyone to know. I picked up her hand and kissed the ring that I’d bought for her. I hoped that one day, maybe soon, that it would be moved to the other hand.

  Miguel held the door open for us, and we walked out into the damp warm air. Marty immediately bounced over to us, snapping pictures. “Hey Jake. Who’s this beauty?”

  I stopped and smiled down at Aly. “This is Alyssa.”

  Flash – the sound of the camera’s shutter moved at a rapid pace. “Ahh, the infamous Alyssa. How does it feel to finally have your muse at your side?”

  Aly looked at me, surprised, not sure if she should smile or frown. I looked back to Marty. “It’s awesome to finally have her with me. It’s been a long time coming.”

  “When will you be releasing new music? There’s been a lot of chatter that you’ll be releasing a slew of singles instead of an album. Is this true?”

  “Partially true,” I nodded. “New tunes are comin’ soon.” I took Aly’s hand in mine and decided that I’d do Marty Jones the biggest solid of his life. “Marty, give your info to Miguel inside.” I pointed. “I’ll give you an exclusive.”

  Marty’s mouth hung open, and he slowly dropped the camera to his side. He went white, and I worried he’d pass out. I looked at his little brother, and he too was slack-jawed.

  Marty gulped, regaining his composure. “When?”

  “I’ll be in touch.”

  I tugged at Aly’s arm. She was stunned. “That poor kid. I think he wet himself.” She giggled, covering her mouth as we walked away. “Wow, I think you just made his entire life. Did you see his face?”

  It made feel good to do something like this for someone like Marty. My label and my agent were going to have a fucking aneurysm, but I had a feeling about that guy, like he wasn’t the usual scum pap. He was always respectful of my space when Sophia and I would show up at events. I wanted to know his story.

  I kept glancing at Aly as we walked up 72nd to the Amsterdam Avenue subway station. She looked ethereal, wearing a flowing teal and white spaghetti-strap sundress – natural, beautiful and completely unaffected by the stares or what had gone down with Marty. She was fully enthralled by her surroundings, and I got kick out of watching the wonderment in her eyes. I loved experiencing life with her.

  “Get ready.”

  “For what?”

  “For the world to really know who you are.” I wrapped my hand around the back of her neck, bringing her face to mine. “You are what made me. I’m nothing without you.”

  As we strolled closer to the subway entrance, steam rose through the sidewalk subway grates, and Aly pointed. “You know that famous picture of Marilyn Monroe? Isn’t that, like, where she stood, when her dress flew in the air?”

  “Yep, pretty much,” I replied. She nodded, and her lips puckered, tempting me to kiss them, so I did.

  She giggled as I tripped over my own feet. “Maybe you shouldn’t sneak up on me like that while we’re walking down a city street.” She pulled me back to her by the hand.

  “Noted,” I chuckled, a little embarrassed by my clumsiness. “I’m just head over heals for you,” I whispered into her ear. She squeezed my arm, sighing happily.

  “Pinch me,” she beamed.

  I guided her around the corner, down into the doldrums of New York City’s veins, with the tight masses of humanity. People jockeyed for position to purchase their Metro Cards at the automated stand, I had my prepaid card at the ready. I swiped it at the turnstile, pushed Aly through, swiped it again for myself. I grew a bit anxious knowing that before we embarked on our treasure hunt, I’d be taking her to my original apartment. I wanted to prove to her that I never lied to her.

  ***

  “So this is The Village? Greenwich?” Her eyes glimmered, taking in the neighborhood as we ascended the stairs from the subway station.

  “Yep. We’re almost to our first stop.” We cruised a couple of blocks, and the closer we got to my old place, I grew tense. It’d been over a year since I’d seen my apartment. My renter was out of the country. I pulled at her hand, stopping right before we reached our destination. “I wanted to do one last thing to prove to you that I wasn’t lying about living with Sophia. I want to show you my old place.”

  Aly’s shoulders slumped. “Jake you don’t have to do this. It’s over. You said you took care of it.” She glanced around, nervous. “I don’t want to run into her.”

  “I know. We won’t. She’s across town…I need to prove this to you.” I sighed, holding her hand and swaying her arm back and forth. “I guess I need to do this more for me than for you. I have to communicate better.”

  We walked up to a single door of a nondescript, eight-story brownstone building, and
I pushed the small red button at the intercom. A moment later, a buzz came, unlocking the door. I sighed as I pulled it open, hoping and praying that Sophia remained the creature of habit that she was, and was still across town sitting and reading at the coffee joint she went to after her pilates class.

  This will be a quick one, I thought.

  “No doorman?” Aly gave me a tight smile, nudging me.

  “Just no elevator,” I chuckled. “Sebastian is the doorman here, but it’s on the down-low.” Just as I mentioned his name, he came to greet us from around the corner.

  “Mr. Jake.” He smiled broadly with open arms, taking me into a firm, back-slapping bear hug. “It’s been far too long.”

  He backed away, and looked at Aly and back at me. I saw a bit of confusion register in his bloodshot blue eyes, wondering who she was. I wrapped my arm around Aly’s waist. “This is Alyssa.” I smiled, a bit uncomfortable, as the last time he saw me, I was with Sophia. “My girlfriend from California. She just moved here.”

  Sebastian didn’t miss a beat. He knew my story. He’d been by my side during many of my late night fights to not relapse, counseling me about love, loss and addiction in the very lobby we stood in. He had his own family stories. I was lucky to have met him too. His eyes crinkled at the sides like an accordion, smiling. “Ahh, Miss Alyssa, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  10

  Alyssa

  My first morning in New York City was everything I’d imagined it to be, with the exception of the Sophia issue. I refused to let her dominate my mind or my future. I’d trust in Jake¸ and that would be it. What did it matter if he lived with her, anyway? I was just jealous. I mean, what other choice did I have but to let it go? I’d either make our lives miserable browbeating him, or I could enjoy my summer and be concerned with making important decisions in the fall.