“So Julia, so yeah.” Laughter. “So like she’s still clean.” Big chuckles. “God, that sounds so blasé, Jesus. So, uh, what else? Oh, I know.” Phil cleared his throat. “So I was talking to Milt, about those demos. Said he really likes them. Said he thinks that I could easily make an album outta it, can you believe it? Said he heard my first record, thought it sounded like shit.” A long chuckle. “I told him no shit, and we laughed, you know, like what the fuck? So I sold my soul, who hasn’t?” A pause. “Julia, she’s really clean, been five months now. I, uh, need to tell you something else, but not over the phone. When I see you, when am I gonna see you next? Been too long, you can’t still be writing that article. Oh, how’s Chuck? Liz called me, said he was out of the hospital. I didn’t even know he was in the hospital, so I called Lee and you know how she is, played it way down, but then I’ve heard nothing from you, so what the hell? I mean, shit Julia, what the fuck?” A long sigh. “No, I’m sorry. Shit. Okay, well, I hear the car, she’s home. No, I wasn’t gonna say this to you in front of her, but then I guess I’m not really talking to you, just at you. Remember when you came back from Florida and you laid backwards on the sofa, pretending I wasn’t there? Oh hey, gotta go!”
Phil lay in bed with Sunshine. Having just made love, he was nearly asleep, but she was restless, which kept him from slumber. When sober, she was twitchy, as if all those years of using something to take the edge rustled within her. Still she was clean, and had been so since the summer of the previous year, 1986. She backed her soft, warm body into Phil, and he stroked her hair, still blonde but not as bright. She had stopped stripping, too tempting to be there and maintain sobriety. She set his hand over her belly, and Phil nodded, his touch tender. He needed to tell Julia, and he needed to do it soon.
“Phil, I can’t sleep. I’m gonna get up, okay?”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” She turned to him, and he kissed tears from her face. “Just gonna read for a bit. If I read for a while, I’ll be nodding off.”
She liked romance novels, a few of them scattered around the house, which was clean. She cleaned all the time, but since she wasn’t working, what else was there for her to do? Phil’s house was neat as a pin, would freak out Julia the next time she showed up. The last time had been a year ago in spring. Sunshine had been on her last legs, and how she had managed to keep stripping at that point, Phil didn’t know, but he had imagined whatever fuel she ran on, other than drugs, had kept her alive. She had snorted herself to a nub, but a fire had still burned, something about this woman he couldn’t ignore. With heavy eyes he watched as she stood from bed, wrapping a robe around her naked body. She had complained, putting on a few pounds since kicking the habit, but he thought she looked better for it, the weight landing on her hips, tummy, and thighs. She said she wanted to start working out, didn’t want to end up as a fat slob. Phil then considered that old broad on Julia’s beach and he shut his eyes, as if Sunshine would turn into Betty Galveston.
Sunshine left the room, closing the door most of the way. Then Phil listened carefully. With eyes still closed, he didn’t see the living room light emerge, but heard the old click, like the end of a message. It was just enough light so she could read. Then, as if he saw her pick up the novel, he heard her finger underlining the words. She wasn’t a fast reader, only with a ninth grade education. She was going to take summer classes at Los Angeles City College, wanted to get her GED. He was so proud of her, but sleep beckoned. She said she wanted to be a writer, wanted to tell her story so other young girls wouldn’t fall into the hell she had suffered. Phil tried to remain conscious, wanted to hear her read. Sometimes she said the words aloud, to better understand them. Not that romance novels were complicated, but for her own sense of how to write; Sunshine had actually gotten clean, she wanted to turn everything around. Phil struggled to stay awake, but a sated body and peaceful mind overruled. He fell asleep just as she began mumbling a new paragraph.
“Hey Phil, hey Sunshine! Wow, how long’s it been? Shit, too long. Okay, well, I’m heading to LA on Friday, hoping to see you guys. I’ve, uh, been busy. Dad’s doing better, but he’s still fighting being on oxygen. All his pride, the goddamned bastard, but maybe in another few weeks he’ll crack. He hates thinking that once he starts, he’s gotta cart that tank around for the rest of his life, but we keep telling him we want him to have a rest of his life. Liz keeps teasing, says she’s not gonna have any kids until he does, but shit, she just broke up with Javier, so what the hell? I, uh, yeah, Ray. Ray and I aren’t together right now, maybe you know. Well, you probably don’t, I can’t imagine he’d call and leave a message about that: Hey Phil, hey Sunshine, guess what? Julia found me fucking another woman so she left me. No, I doubt Ray would call and tell you that. So guess what Phil, Sunshine? I found Ray fucking another woman. Woo-hoo! Talk about killing my evening. I, uh, so that’s why I haven’t been to see you guys, between that asshole and Dad, shit, two fuckers never doing what they’re supposed to. Okay, well, this’s getting a bit crazy. I’m coming to LA on Friday. Gotta interview this coke-I-mean-dickhead metal guy, I have no idea why they send me these assignments. Uh, right. Okay. Well, yeah. I’ll call you when I get there. Okay. Bye.”
As she stood waiting to move from her seat to the crowded airplane’s aisle, Julia couldn’t get the end of that last message from her brain. She hoped Phil had listened to it alone, did Sunshine even check the machine? Since the end of 1985, when Lee had lied for Phil, excusing his and Sunshine’s presence in Columbus, Julia and Phil had left their messages for all, partners not excluded. It made for shorter quips; hard to spill one’s guts when others might be listening. Julia hadn’t meant to say coke, but it had slipped, was probably as true as not, but with Sunshine’s alleged sobriety, Julia wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. Phil would forgive her, Julia was certain, but she didn’t want to hurt Sunshine’s feelings or infer anything. Julia muscled her way into the aisle; she needed to reach a phone, call Phil, see if the aberrant sentence had reached lenient ears.
By the time she emerged into the terminal, she looked for him, as if maybe he had come hunting for her. She saw anonymous Angelinos, or people hoping to flee this God-forsaken city. Julia detested LA, wasn’t sure why. She wasn’t overly fond of San Francisco either; she wanted to be at home in Oakland, to pester her dad, support her mom, visit her sisters, and avoid an asshole named Ray. A bank of phones lined the wall. Julia sat at one, dialing Phil’s number. “Oh please pick up,” she muttered.
“Hello?”
“Oh hi Sunshine.” Julia’s heart raced. “How are you?”
“Oh Julia! Phil, it’s Julia. Oh hey, are you in LA?”
“Yeah, just got in.” To Julia, Sunshine sounded as usual, or a new-usual. Not coked-usual, and Julia grimaced. She could not use that word anymore.
“Here Phil. Hey Julia, I’m making dinner, a roast, you hungry?”
“Starving, but you didn’t have to do that.”
Sunshine laughed. “Well, what the hell else am I gonna do? But I’m taking classes this summer, so don’t expect this in July. Here, Phil. She’s at LAX. You’re at LAX, right?”
“Uh-huh.” As Julia answered, she noted a different cadence of breath.
“Hey, you made it! How was the flight?”
Phil’s jovial tone made Julia bite her tongue. “Oh, uh, fine. Hey, I, uh, everything okay?”
“Yeah, just waiting on you. You renting a car?”
“Yeah, gotta do that.” And collect luggage and confirm if I’ve made someone’s shit list. “So Phil, I, uh, left a message…”
“Yeah, she’s renting a car, so don’t start the peas yet.” His voice had been loud, then Phil spoke in a whisper. “She didn’t hear it, don’t worry.”
Julia bent over as far as the cord allowed. “Oh Jesus Phil, oh thank God!” She took deep breaths. “I didn’t even realize I’d said it until…”
He laughed. “She wouldn’t have cared, but no, it’s okay. Listen
, take your time. Why the hell did you book a late afternoon flight anyway?”
Julia still trembled. “I, uh, shit. I can’t think straight these days. Stupid fucking men!”
“Me included?” he chuckled.
“No, oh God no. Is she really okay?”
“Oh God Julia, yeah. Listen, go get your bags, get your car, then sit in traffic. We’ll be here, see you in, oh,” he laughed. “Five hours.”
Julia heard Sunshine in the background, aghast at Phil’s estimate. It was a joke, he told her, as Julia took more deep breaths, then hung up the phone. But she sat for another minute, as if having dodged a bullet.
At eight that evening, Julia finally got over her anxiety, a glass of wine assisting in that ease. Phil and Sunshine drank Pepsis, and the threesome laughed over Phil’s attempts at restarting his career. The album he had made after that initial platinum seller had bombed, his own music far different than what his record company wished to promote, tunes more intelligent and meaningful than a record he now publically disavowed. But it didn’t matter, as the public was ignoring him.
“No one gives a shit about anything real,” he sighed, setting the empty can on a coaster. “I’m gonna lie low for a while, then make a comeback.”
Sitting in a comfortable chair, Julia noted soothing cream walls that were tastefully dotted with charming prints, complementing the soft blue mini-blinds that were mostly closed. The dark, cloistered feel of before had been swept away and Julia gazed at the couple entwined on the sofa. Phil was enraptured with a woman who to Julia’s amazement had quit snorting cocaine. It was in the brightness of Sunshine’s eyes, the ease of her smile, the way she walked, not with a stripper’s flair, only a young woman freed. Her body looked the same, maybe a little softer, more flesh to her bones, which Julia considered as a small joke. Sunshine’s boobs were still huge, but she no longer looked like she might topple over.
“A comeback,” Julia murmured, wanting Phil to know she was listening. It was hard paying attention to him and take in what seemed like a different household, a new woman. Phil was the same; he needed a haircut, swigged soda like someone else used to sniff coke. But Sunshine looked new to Julia, her hair not so blaring, her manner not jerky, or weepy. Or furtive or helpless, only besotted. She was wrapped around a man she couldn’t seem to live without, but not because Phil was a shield. Julia ached for their happiness, and her loneliness. Then she smiled. “So Phil, in the meantime, what are you gonna do?”
“He’s gonna be a househusband,” Sunshine laughed. “I’m going back to school full time in June, and he’ll be doing the cooking.”
Phil nodded and Julia giggled. “Won’t be as good as what you fixed tonight.”
Sunshine smiled. “I know. We’ll both have to get used to mediocre grub.”
“Hey now, I am offended by that statement.” Phil stood, hands on hips. Then he smiled, taking the empty can to the kitchen. “You women think you’re God’s gift to a radar range.”
Sunshine sat up, smoothing her hair. Then she stood, stretching arms over her head. “You know it baby. Okay,” she said to Julia. “I’m beat. Gonna get my book and hit the hay.”
“What are you reading?” Julia asked.
“Just girl-stuff, nothing heavy. Not gonna tax my brain until summer. Baby,” she shouted to Phil. “You make sure the stove’s clean before turning in?”
“Will do.”
Julia nearly laughed, as if watching a sit-com from their childhoods, but this seemed real. Sunshine was more concerned with the cleanliness of her kitchen than doffing her panties. A G-string actually, but instead she wore sweats and an old t-shirt that Julia recognized as Phil’s. It was big on her, and Julia noted a book along the side table that Sunshine collected, the title making Julia’s eyes bug out: Having A Baby.
Julia only smiled, then said goodnight as Phil returned, offering Sunshine a quick kiss. Then he patted her butt, which was more to their routine, but Julia was still slack-jawed. Comfy clothes, a few pounds noted, the nesting instinct; Julia wanted to scream at Phil, but kept silent as he sat across from her, stretching over the sofa. “So, how was the flight and how’s your dad?” he asked as if nothing else mattered.
Julia inhaled, then wished to slap him. “Anything you wanna tell me?”
“Uh, well, Sunshine felt bad that the peas were overcooked, but…”
“Is she pregnant?” Julia hissed, then regretted her temper. “Phil, why didn’t you tell me?”
He sat up, then slipped from the couch, kneeling in front of her. “Oh Julia, no, shit! You saw the book, didn’t you? Julia, no, listen…”
“Are you sure, I mean, shit Phil!” She stood, nearly knocking him over. “This place looks like fucking June Cleaver moved in and she’s, she’s…” Julia’s tone was soft, but she pointed with vehemence. “She’s like, like, like I don’t even fucking know!”
He stood, pulling her close. “I know, Julia, it’s like, Christ, some miracle. But honey, oh God, yeah, there’s something I need to tell you.”
“What Phil?”
She looked at him, tears at the corners of his eyes. “Oh Phil, no, she wasn’t, she didn’t…”
He nodded, then led her to the kitchen. “She quit because we lost a baby.”
It was just an accident quietly reverberated in the small room, which had also repainted. The floor was scrubbed, counters wiped clean. Plants lined the narrow windowsill; Julia caught all those changes, but Phil hadn’t mentioned a miscarriage and Julia hadn’t been around. “When Phil, oh God, when?”
“Last May, after we saw you, right after Challenger exploded. We’d only known for two weeks and then she got really high; she ran into one of her cousins, God, she’s got a million of them all over the valley. She said their grandfather was in the hospital, had cancer. The motherfucker died in August, that really helped her, knowing he was dead. But in May, when he was still in the hospital, she just freaked out, went on a binge. I didn’t see her for a week, was about ready to call the cops.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“Chuck was sick then, how was I supposed to call you?”
“Phil!”
“Julia, shit! We knew, I mean, she was late, took a test, we hadn’t seen a doctor yet, but when she came home, she was sick as a dog, and then, oh my God.” He stood, moving to the sink, gripping the counter. “When she started bleeding, it was like, I could handle it. How many nosebleeds has she had, and for a few seconds, it was like, okay, I’ve done that, I can do this. But then…” He stared out the window, darkness beyond leafy spider plants. “Then I just fell apart. I had to call an ambulance, get her to the hospital.”
“Phil, how’d you keep this outta the papers?”
He turned to her. “No one gives a shit about me right now. Funny, huh? A one-hit wonder, and who cares if his cokehead girlfriend’s losing his baby?” His voice was stilled, but he held fists at his sides. “I could fall off the fucking planet and no one would bat an eye. Who’s Phil Gideon? That shitty album caught attention for about two seconds. No one our age knows who my dad is, that’s the only reason that record got made, not because of what I can do, and so yeah, my girlfriend lost a baby. Big fucking deal.”
“Oh Phil, oh my God!” Julia joined him, then uncurled his fists. “What happened then?”
He sighed, then stroked her face. “She felt so guilty, really just fell apart. It wasn’t just the baby, but that was the turning point, like everything she’d been ignoring fell out of her too. She quit cold turkey, both coke and work. Her grandmother called here, I don’t know how she got the number. Sunshine probably gave it to her when she was wired. I answered one of the calls, gave that bitch the what-for. Nearly changed the number, but then, shit.”
“If you’d changed your number, you’d have to tell me. Me and Helen and… Oh Phil, they don’t know, do they?”
He shook his head. “We’re gonna go see them at Easter. Sunshine can’t wait, Grandma can’t either. We didn’t go at Christmas b
ecause, well, I wanted to make sure she was over it, didn’t wanna stress her out. I told them we were just gonna stay here, and they seemed to understand. Grandpa knows, I mean…”
“You told Daniel?”
“I had to tell one of them something!” Phil stood back, running a hand through his hair. “How the hell was I gonna keep hiding her? He doesn’t know about the baby, only the coke, said he’d wondered if it was something like that. Told me to hang in there, that he loved me, couldn’t wait to meet her, but that he would, that they would. I have no idea what he told Grandma, she probably assumes something like this already.”
“Probably,” Julia said. “Phil, oh God, I’m so sorry!”
“Me too, but you know what?” His voice became circumspect. “Better this way. She got clean; I never thought she could do that. She really wants to go back to school, wants to get her GED. Wants to write a book,” he laughed softly. “She wants to help others. It’s like I knew this person was in there, if only she could quit the drugs. And yeah, I’m glad she stopped working, I can take care of her. Of her and whoever comes along.”
“Are you, I mean…”
“No, no. I want her to start school, shit, she’s only twenty-two, lots of time. I kept thinking about that, how much shit she’s suffered, but if she can pull it together now, then God, we’ll have our whole lives, all the time Stan and Jo-Jo never did.”
“You want that, don’t you?”
He nodded. “I never realized it, like who’s the big dope?” He smiled, then sat at the table. “I don’t even have to make another record in my whole life. Like I will,” he sniffed. “But you know what? Stan’s royalties, my God. There’s more money there than, well, Paul McCartney’s worth more,” Phil laughed. “He called me, wanted to know if I’d ever sell Stan’s songs. He owns Buddy Holly’s, guess he was looking to start a collection.”
“Doesn’t own his own, guess he wants to make up for it.”
Phil laughed. “Yeah, don’t put him and Michael Jackson in a room together. Paul’d beat the shit outta him.”
“You’d never sell them.” Her voice trembled.
“Never. And it’s not the money.” He laughed again. “It’s like you with Laura’s books. If someone offered you a billion dollars…” Phil leaned back, setting hands behind his head. “They’re our parents, and I never thought about what that meant until Sunshine was losing, oh my God. I had no idea Julia, none at all.”
“So, how many kids you gonna have?” she smiled.
“Oh hell, I have no fucking idea. But you know what? Now we can. Before, shit, no way. But she’s been clean for six, no, seven months. Seven whole months and I love her, I really love her. Or maybe I’m letting myself really love her. She’s not Einstein, but she wants to say she finished high school, she wants, oh Jesus.”
Julia set her hand on Phil’s, easing his shakiness. “She wants to love you, be with you. Phil, that’s incredible.”
“Yeah, it is. And now she can. I’m not gonna fool myself, she might have a setback. It’s possible, hell, more likely than not. But I won’t leave her, I won’t do that to her.” He took a breath. “I’m not my dad Julia. Stan left Jo-Jo, but I will not leave Sunshine.”
“I know Phil. I know you won’t.”
As a threesome, they visited various Los Angeles hangouts, taking in a band that Phil couldn’t stop talking about, but Guns N’ Roses was the sort of group to make Julia shudder. Hair metal she sniffed, but Phil met with the group backstage, leaving the women sitting at a table for twenty minutes. When he returned, he stood with guys his age, but with such different appearances. Phil looked nothing like the bedraggled, sweaty musicians that he introduced to Julia and Sunshine as the next Rolling Stones.
Julia had spent her days interviewing a similar band of reprobates, and had no interest, while Sunshine nodded politely. Phil was just a few years older than these… Assholes sprang to Julia’s mind, but the lead singer raved over the man for whom Phil was named, couldn’t believe Stan Gideon’s son was standing there with them. Julia excused herself to the bathroom, asking Sunshine if she needed to go.
In the tiny space that doubled as a women’s toilet, they groused over Phil’s sudden infatuation, then decided to take a cab home. Julia had grown protective over Sunshine during her visit as Sunshine confirmed all Phil had said, her honesty often too much for Julia. Instead Julia embraced Sunshine’s sobriety, forgetting the incident to force the initial habit.
When they emerged, Phil was waiting alone, yet smiling in a manner Julia found curious. “What,” she said, tapping her foot. “You’re not gonna start playing that sort of shit are you?”
He laughed, taking each woman by the arm. “Oh, not me. They’re gonna be huge, got an album coming out this summer. But no, I’m not gonna be the next Axl Rose.”
“Axl Rose, what the fuck kind of name is that?” Julia sneered.
“I don’t know, Julia Rose Penn.”
“Ha ha.” She slugged Phil as they reached his car. The wood-paneled Pinto had been replaced by a Honda, not very rock and roll-like, she noted. “I bet those guys don’t drive Hondas.”
“Soon enough they’re not gonna need to wipe their own asses,” Phil said.
“Only fill their noses,” Sunshine added.
Julia had taken the back seat, couldn’t see Sunshine’s face. Her voice was disdainful, and Julia watched as Phil held his girlfriend’s hand.
Julia stayed with them another week, finishing her interviews with the band that seemed no different than the one over which Phil still raved. He promised that he wouldn’t make any hair metal, to which she made him sign a declaration to that effect. Sunshine witnessed it, and Phil bought a cheap frame, hanging the document in the spare bedroom. “If I violate this agreement, you may string me up by my testicles right over Mulholland Drive.”
“I don’t even know where that is,” Julia sighed.
“He won’t do any such thing,” Sunshine said, standing next to Phil. He pulled her against him, and Julia felt a pang of jealousy. She hadn’t heard from Ray at all during her stay, even though he knew where she was. She had left him several messages, some long, some clipped. Some she wished hadn’t been left, but sometimes it worked out; Sunshine hadn’t heard the coke-head reference, and had even sat in a club, sipping Pepsi. Julia had to admit Phil’s girlfriend seemed to have beaten her addiction.
On the first Monday of February, Julia readied to leave. First she would visit her father, then if she felt brave, she would stop at her apartment. If Ray was fucking someone in their bed, she might shoot him, she joked to Phil, not in Sunshine’s hearing.
Phil laughed, then clasped her hand. “Honey, whatever you do, be good to yourself.”
She nodded. “You too Phil.” Julia wanted to hug him, then she giggled. “You know what?”
“What?”
“We don’t kiss each other anymore, not like the old days.”
He smiled, caressing her face. “No, we don’t. What, you miss me?”
“Ha! Keep dreaming.” She looked around the room, thinking to past times. It was 1987; they had known each other coming on seven years. Her birthday was a week away, but she wouldn’t spend it here, turning twenty-seven somewhere else, maybe Oakland. She thought about her father, then Phil’s dad. Chuck wasn’t overly well, but was still chugging along. She and Phil had outlived Stan, even Sunshine had managed that. Next up was Jo-Jo, and maybe Sunshine would surpass Phil’s mother. A year and a half ago Julia wouldn’t have bet on it, but perhaps Phil’s girlfriend would be all right.
“What Julia? You’re thinking about something.”
Could she tell him? He had lost a baby, or some part of himself. Since he told her, they hadn’t discussed it in depth, as if that child was like their dead parents, so fleeting neither recalled them. Laura and Stan had been joined by some formless mass of goo made by Phil and Sunshine, Miss November. Julia giggled, then shook her head. “Not thinking about a goddamn thing. Can’t do that here in La
-La land.”
He nodded. “Yeah, I’m thinking the same.”
“What, you gonna move?”
“Nah, I mean, she’s happy here.” He looked around the room. “She did all this you know, after she’d kicked it and quit work. Needed something to do, and I told her to just do whatever made her happy. No one had ever told her that, no one ever gave a shit for her.”
Julia folded arms over herself. “You really love her, I mean, I know you love her, but is she the one?”
“I don’t know. I mean, if that sounds flippant, it’s only because to tell you the truth, I don’t know very much at all.”
She bristled, then shrugged. “Who does?”
“Exactly. I mean,” he laughed. “I know that band, those guys are gonna make a ton of money.”
“Phil, they’re shit!”
He nodded. “To your urbane ears.” He set his hands along the sides of her head. She noted he didn’t move to her temples; he used to love to touch her there.
Sunshine had left for a yoga class run by the local community center. Phil and Julia hadn’t been alone for more time than it took Sunshine to shower, but she wouldn’t return until noon, by which time Julia would need to be on her way. But in that moment, Julia closed her eyes, hearing Phil’s effortless breaths. She inhaled, as if to breathe the same.
“Phil, I’m glad, you know. For you both. Especially for her.” Julia opened her eyes, saw his face so close. “But you too honey. Oh God Phil, what if, what if she…”
“If she does, I’ll deal with it. Right now, she’s okay.”
“What if she gets knocked up again?”
“Then I’ll be a daddy.”
“Oh Jesus!” She stepped back, then turned away from him.
“Is that what you’re afraid of?” Phil asked.
“No.”
“Good, because neither am I, not anymore.”
She faced him. “How can you say that?”
“Because I nearly lost her. Hell, I’ve been nearly losing her since I realized she was an addict. But last year she could’ve died, either from the miscarriage or quitting coke. Neither killed her, and every day I love her a little more.”
“God Phil, that sounds like a song.”
He smiled. “Yeah, good and crappy, but sometimes Julia, the trite, fluffy shit is just as real as the nitty gritty.”
Again she flinched. “You’re good at the nitty gritty Phil. Me, not so much.”
“I know, and that’s okay. Neither is Sunshine.”
Julia looked at the coffee table, romance novels in a neat stack. “Does she really read this shit?”
“She’s reading, hasn’t done that since she was a kid. Said she used to love stories about horses. Said Black Beauty was one of her favorites.”
“Oh God, that’s such a depressing book!”
“Yeah, I thought so too. I bought her a copy, she asked for it, and after she was done, I read it. Pretty easy, kid’s stuff, except it’s not. It’s about people, about human nature. Claire and Arthur should read it. I bet your mother did.”
She shuddered, for he didn’t mean Lee. “Yeah, maybe.”
“Laura read that book, I know it.”
“Yeah, how?”
“Because after I read it, I reread your mom’s last novel. It’s about horses too, you realize that?”
“Yeah, I mean, they’re a metaphor but…”
“But no difference. She doesn’t mention Anna Sewell, but she should’ve. If Anna Sewell was still alive, she could’ve sued your mother for plagiarism.”
“What are you talking about?”
He laughed. “Well, okay, inspiration. Or at the very least subtle hinting. But maybe in the late 1950s, no one was reading Black Beauty anymore.”
“What’s it about Phil, huh?”
“It’s about,” he paused. “You read it, then tell me.”
“Shit! Stop being so damned melodramatic.”
“It’s about Sunshine, Julia. It’s about finding one little piece of your mind.”
“Well, that’s nice Phil. Christ, I’m gonna come back here and you’re gonna have turned into fucking John Lennon.”
He laughed. “Maybe. She wasn’t kidding about the househusband thing. Says she’s gonna be in class all day, up to me to make sure we eat.”
“Well, good luck. If I remember right, you’re not that culinary.”
He nodded, crossing his arms. “You remember what you like.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Listen, you better get to the airport, don’t wanna miss your flight.”
Julia tapped her foot. “Well, yeah, okay. Suppose I better go fight traffic.”
He carried her bag to the rental car, parked behind his Honda. She gazed at the ragged front yard. “So, Miss November not into gardening?”
He laughed. “Said that was my domain. Suppose I should shake a leg.”
“Shake something or else she’ll leave you Phil.” Julia cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t very nice.”
“Sometimes we’re sorta bitchy to each other.”
“Maybe so.” She wanted to give him a good-bye kiss, but instead she headed to the driver’s door. “So okay, well, take care.”
“You too. Call when you get to, well, wherever you’re going.”
“Uh, yeah, probably the folks first.”
“Give them my best.”
“Yeah, I’ll do that.”
“Great. Okay, well, be safe.”
She stared at him, that long hair resting along his shoulders, but it wasn’t as shaggy as that crappy band he seemed to adore. He smiled, then waved, as if hurrying her off, and she didn’t like that feeling. Instead she played with the door handle, scuffing her foot along the street.
“What Julia?”
“I feel like you’re mad at me.”
He laughed. “I love you. Get your ass to LAX!”
“Phil…” She pulled back her hair, now about the same color as Sunshine’s. Did Phil like his women blonde, was Julia still Phil’s… “Phil?”
“What?”
“Will you just c’mere a minute!”
He took his time, and she was equally pissed at his tardiness and smile. “What Julia?”
“Am I losing you?”
“What?”
“You heard me. Am I losing you?”
“No, why?”
“Because…” She began to cry. “Because you love her, a lot. More than you love me.”
Instead of taking her tears in sweeping motions, Phil cupped her jaw in his hand, then used his thumb gently along her cheek, then the other one. “Oh Julia.”
“I mean,” she sniffed. “That’s probably fine you know. I don’t own you, and I have Ray, or I had Ray. I probably still do, he loves me, can’t get enough of me. Well, he can, but not that easily. He wants us to have a baby, but I told him no and…”
“Oh Julia! Why didn’t you tell me?”
“How Phil? After what you said, I mean, Jesus!”
“You wanna come back in the house and we can talk about this?”
“No, I mean, I gotta go. Traffic remember? Shit Phil, why do you live so fucking far from the airport?”
“Julia…”
“Just promise me one thing, okay?”
“Anything baby.”
She looked toward the blue sky, the day warm, even in early February. Then she considered how this man appeared no differently than when she had met him, the weather the same in May. Phil always complained it was perpetual summer in Los Angeles, yet he chose to live here, far from her in Oakland. He could have moved north, made music in San Francisco, probably the kind of music he always wished to create, melodic and honest. Julia stiffened. “Just promise me that if you and she don’t, I mean, if something happens, you’ll, you’ll…”
“I will never break up with you Julia. I love you forever. It’s different, you know that.”
“We can never have sex Phil, never.” r />
“I know,” he sighed, releasing her face. Then, as if to remind them both, he kissed her. Tongues met, darted, then retreated. Then Phil stepped away. “I know,” he repeated, sounding hoarse.
She nodded, unable to speak. Only then did Julia get in her car, start the engine, revving it there on the street. Then she pulled away in slow motion.
“Hey, I’m here, just wanted you to know. He knew I was coming in today, maybe he wants to make up. Flowers are all over the goddamn place, smells like, well, a French perfume factory. I’m gonna take some to Mom and Dad. I, uh, went straight home first. Ray’s not here, left me a note. Said he was helping a friend, would be home around seven. He has to work tonight, but not until late. Phil, I love you. Thank you.” Laughter. “Thanks for frenching me. I, uh, really needed that. I think, oh shit, I did it again! Christ Phil, you gotta erase this, oh Jesus! Okay, Sunshine, if you hear this, he only kissed me because that’s all we can do, I mean, oh my God, this’s ridiculous. That’s it Phil! I am not leaving you any more fucking messages, goddamn your…” Click
Chapter 5