“So hey Phil, I went by your place, saw your Honda was gone. Mom says you stopped by the house, looking pretty sheepish. Call me when you get there, okay? I hope you had a safe drive.” A small pause. “Asshole,” was followed by laughter.
“Hey Ray, it’s Phil. Just wanted to thank you for dinner the other night. Sorry I woke you up. So, yeah. Anyways, just wanted to say thanks, you know, it was great. I had a great time. So, uh, yeah. Not sure when I’ll be up there again, I mean, yeah. Okay well, yeah. Okay. Bye.”
“Hi Sunshine, it’s Julia.” A big chuckle. “We got your message, sorry about not answering you sooner. Ray and I hope to see you soon, you know, up here. But if not, that’s okay. No biggie. Just, uh, take it easy and we’ll talk to you later. Bye!”
“Hey Ray, it’s me. So, uh, I think we’ll be down here for another month, then try to spend August in Berkeley. I’ve called Lee, she’s watching the place. Says it’s something for her and Chuck to do. Makes him feel like he’s back on the beat or something. So, yeah, we’re, uh, here for the Fourth, gonna barbecue, I think. And, uh, that’s about it. Take care.”
“Hey Sunshine, happy Fourth of July! Hope you guys are soaking up the sun. We’re just looking at fog, no one told the weatherman it was supposed to be nice today. Okay, well, I love you! Take it easy.”
“Hey, uh, just wanted to tell you that we’ll be in Berkeley on Friday. Coming up early, and uh, I’ll give you a ring when we’re ready for visitors. Thanks Ray, for everything.” A short pause. “You too, Julia.”
“Hey Sunshine, Phil, just wanted to wish you guys a safe drive. Looking forward to seeing you, just give us a jingle, you know? Okay, well, yeah. Drive safe and we’ll see you soon. Bye.”
In late July, Phil and Sunshine sat alongside Ray and Julia on the tiny back patio of Phil’s rental house. The deck overlooked the bay, and the sunsets were one of the main reasons Phil wanted to come back, wishing to share them with Sunshine. It had nothing to do with Julia, he told himself, also informing her to that sentiment. She nodded, didn’t try to argue.
Sunshine’s arm was entwined with Phil’s, she was nearly asleep. As soon as the sun was gone, he would walk her inside and put her to bed. Then he would rejoin his guests, but they wouldn’t stay long. Then Phil would retrieve his guitar, come back outside, and make a little music. Sometimes he played his own songs, sometimes he strummed his father’s. Usually he played other artists, Jimi Hendrix or Eric Clapton from when he was with The Yardbirds and Cream. Clapton was enjoying a resurgence, but Phil preferred the older riffs, and would play until his fingers grew stiff from the cold.
None of the neighbors complained as music floated through East Bay evenings. Phil was so glad to be away from Los Angeles; Julia had been right, damn her ass, and if Sunshine ever felt able to leave LA, Phil would be out of there in a minute. They were talking about permanence somewhere else. Permanence between them was shaky; she had pawned the engagement ring, and neither spoke of what Phil had proposed. That she was close to him, not strung out, was a small miracle, and about all Phil could allow.
“You ready?” he asked, and she nodded. Phil stood, easing her from the deck chair, taking slow steps into the small house, but the interior was cozy, even on a cool evening. He escorted her to their bedroom, then watched as she slipped into a large nightshirt. She had lost weight, was trying to put on a few pounds. But she was clean, and hadn’t contracted any diseases. Phil had taken her to a doctor before they left Los Angeles, before he had slept with her again. They were sleeping together now, but only after she’d had a period, and after having been cleared for sexually transmitted illnesses. She was on the pill, far too early to think about babies. Maybe someday, Phil sighed, as she pulled the blanket over her shoulders. Maybe someday they would make another child.
He’d had to deal with that issue, as she dealt with coming clean. That was part of their problem too, she had pointed out, but something Phil hadn’t wished to acknowledge. The miscarriage and his proposal were why she had left him. She did want to marry him, but not with that loss in the way, and Phil had started seeing a shrink in Berkeley. As Sunshine said goodnight, Phil shut the bedroom door, walking through the brief space called the living room. Two bedrooms, one bathroom, and a dinky kitchen cost just as much as the LA house if he had rented it out, but he wasn’t going to. Berkeley was just for the summer. In fall, they would return south; Sunshine wanted to get back to school while Phil would… Do laundry, cook dinner, putter in the yard. Maybe play his guitar, but probably not. In Berkeley he felt able, even if most of the songs weren’t his.
He reached the sliding glass doors, but didn’t step outside, inhaling a strange peace. He loved it here, wished they could stay. He could pressure her into it, using the music and his therapy sessions as adequate grounds. He was seeing someone, she wasn’t, what did that mean? It meant that Phil dealt with his issues and Sunshine couldn’t. She was like Julia, able to take so much truth, but not all of it. She could quit using cocaine, but not face the reasons for it. Phil could make a lot of headway here, with his lifeless career and their dead baby. Yet Sunshine needed fair weather, not much of that in the northern tip of the East Bay.
Ray joined him, and Phil slid open the glass door. “Hey, we’re gonna get outta your hair.”
Phil nodded, stepping aside as Ray led Julia into the room. Ray Winston stood as tall as Phil, looked like Julia with blonde hair. The men shook hands, then Julia embraced Phil. “Thanks for tonight. She looked good.”
He nodded. “Thanks for bringing dessert. Gonna be working on that pie for the next few nights.”
Julia smiled. “Listen, call me, okay?”
“Yap yap,” he said, squeezing her hand as they headed to the front door.
Phil locked it behind them, then looked around the one room separated into a living and kitchen space. He put the few dishes into the sink, ran water over them, then turned off the lights. Into the spare bedroom he went, coming out with his guitar. He checked that the front door was indeed bolted, then made sure his bedroom door was closed. Sunshine wouldn’t have heard them leave, it was the music. Not that she wouldn’t have liked to listen, but Phil didn’t wish to share it with her. Then he wanted to kick himself; the shrink was trying to get him to work through that blame. Phil blamed her for losing a baby that hadn’t been planned, but better to not have a baby with a coke addict, or at least one not recovered. Now she was trying again to be straight. Phil wanted her to be healthy, and if they had a baby, great. If they got married he would be surprised.
He wouldn’t ask her again, another problem for the doc to help Phil to face; that she had pawned the engagement ring hadn’t shocked him, but his latent anger was somewhat stunning. Phil rarely stayed mad at anyone, not Julia when she was being a bitch, not his parents for their actions. Not record executives who wanted him to kowtow, not fans who had flocked to a piece of crap then ignored his second record. The real Phil Gideon had been shelved, and he accepted that, nothing else to do but sit outside in the cool Berkeley air, playing someone else’s music. Phil settled into his chair, set the guitar in his lap, strumming a few bars. Then he stared to where the sun had gone down, feeling a rush of inspiration. Fingers moved over strings as if someone else improvised the chords. Unlike his father, Phil could read music, and as soon as he felt able to move, he went into the house, writing down what he had just played. Then he strummed it again from memory. Then, feeling more tranquil than in ages, Phil Gideon put away the guitar and went to bed.
In the morning, he woke to coffee and a slice of peach pie. Sunshine wore her hair in a clip, looked about fifteen to Phil, some precious visage that made him smile. “Hey, good morning.”
“Good morning.” Her voice was soft. “How’d you sleep?”
“Really well.” He sipped the coffee, then sat up as she set the plate on his belly. “How long you been up?”
“Not long. Phil, I love you.”
He nodded, setting the coffee and pie on the side tabl
e. She sat on him, bedding in the way, but Phil just wanted to look at her. “I love you too. I wrote a song last night.”
“Really?”
“The music, no words yet. I haven’t done that in, God, too long.”
“You’re happy up here, it’s a good place for you.” She sighed. “Maybe we should just move, you know?”
She quivered as she said it, and Phil shook his head, stroking her face. “Nah baby, gotta get back home.”
She nodded, then took off her night shirt. She straddled him as he fondled her breasts. That another man had recently touched her didn’t enter Phil’s mind. That hadn’t been this Sunshine. This woman, clear-eyed and moving against him, was all Phil’s.
They fooled around, then made love. Then Phil ate his pie, took a shower, then glanced over the sheets sitting on the coffee table. The melody was strong, it was good work. It was from this place, where he wished to stay. It had nothing to do with Julia across the bay or her parents just to the southeast. It had to do with sunsets, and with the woman who stood at the sink, washing dishes.
“Okay, well, I’ll be back, maybe in an hour and a half. We need anything?”
“Just some milk.” Sunshine turned off the water, then faced him. “I love you.”
His appointment would last fifty minutes, and if he stopped at the store down the street, he could be home in just over an hour. He wanted her again, wanted to shove as much of this place into him to hold them both for what waited in the vacuous hellhole to the south. “I love you too honey. Whatcha gonna do?”
“There’s a yoga class at eleven. If I’m not home when you get back, I’ll be there.”
He kissed her, then held her close. “Don’t overwork yourself.”
“Gotta work off that pie,” she laughed.
He could feel the back of her ribcage, but said nothing. “I need to find out where Julia got it. Best peach pie I’ve ever had.”
“Go on Phil, you’re gonna be late,” she smiled.
“Yeah, okay.” He kissed her again, then was out the door.
“Hey Julia, well, we made it, back in record time. One long drive, wham bam thank you ma’am, and she’s sleeping now, she’s, uh, I dunno. If I could’ve hog-tied her up there, but my shrink gave me some names for down here. They’ll probably drive me up the wall. At least up there I felt I was making some headway. Down here, no heads to be found.
“So anyways, we’re home, lawn looks like shit, but at least the house is clean. I never thanked you properly for that, even if you wouldn’t wash my shorts.” Laughter. “No really, thank you. I mean, well, thanks Julia. Thanks.”
“Hey Phil, glad you’re there, well, really I’m not. I wish you were still in Berkeley, are you gonna keep that house? You never said. So, is she enrolled in school? Are you still making music? I wanna hear those songs Gideon, I mean it. I think it’s great that you’re gonna try to see someone down there, I mean, I think you should. Better you than me.” A chuckle. “Really Phil, it’s good for you to get that sorted. I wish, I mean, I hope she can manage. I wasn’t gonna say anything while you guys were here, but now that you’re not…” A giggle. “She looked really, well, vulnerable, but not like before. She looked so young, so much like how she might’ve looked a long time ago.” A throat is cleared. “Phil, you’re not the one who needs a shrink, we all know that. You’re the most together out of all of us, and that’s the truth. You’re always telling me I fudge things, but that’s one of the most God-honest things I know, have ever known. I don’t care what the shrink tells you, they’re fulla shit, just want the business. Really, you’re okay Phil. I wish I could say that for the rest of us, but I mean it, you’re fine. If you see one or you don’t, you’re gonna be okay. I, oh God, I didn’t mean to go off on some tangent, shit! Okay, that’s all. I love you. Talk to you later, bye!”
“Hey, uh, Ray, Julia, I just wanted to let you know that I, uh, she’s gone. We got into a huge fight last night, and she, uh, I don’t know where the hell she is. I’m gonna stay here through the weekend. If she’s not back by Monday, I’m coming north. She left all her stuff, notebooks, everything. I, uh, just can’t take it anymore. I nearly called the shrink, but didn’t. I did call the landlord, the Berkeley house’s still vacant. Gonna just stay there, so don’t worry about clearing your sofa.” Small laughter. “I mean, at least not yet. If I get drunk at your house again, well, we’ll worry about it when I cross that bridge. I’m ready to cross some bridge, I’ll tell you. Okay well, heads-up. I might see you this coming week. Yeah, okay, yeah. Bye.”
“Hey Julia? Hey, I’m, uh, here, just got in. Well, actually I’m down the street at the phone booth. But yeah, listen, if you get this and wanna come over, go ahead. I, uh, need to talk to someone. Bye.”
“So did she ever come back for her books?”
“Not that I know of.” Phil stood, then looked at the cherry pie on the counter. He cut a slice, eating it standing up. “She has a key and I told Gordon just to keep an eye on the place for the next week or so.”
“You going back down there?”
“Yeah, in about ten days. If she hasn’t come back, I’m packing up her stuff, will leave it with Gordon. He said he had room in his garage, I’ll give him a little money, you know.”
“Phil, are you really that serious?”
He swallowed, then set the unfinished piece on the counter. “I can’t take this anymore.”
“You said anything yet to Helen and Daniel?”
Phil blinked away a few tears. “Julia, there’s something I haven’t told you. Grandpa, he’s, uh…”
She stood, then wrapped him close. “No, don’t say it.”
“Prostate cancer, they only just told me, and it’s not good.”
Julia sobbed, soaking through Phil’s t-shirt. “Oh no! No Phil, no!”
He nodded. “I’m gonna give her through the end of October. If she’s not back by then, if I haven’t heard anything from her, I’m going to Columbus. I don’t know how long he’s got, but I need to be with them, with him.” Phil wiped both their faces, then gripped her again. “I can’t take her anymore, I mean, I’d give my right arm to make her better, you know that, you know I would!”
“I know you would.”
“But I can’t help her, or now him, shit!” Phil inhaled, then blew his nose into his sleeve. “Shit, no Kleenex, no napkins, no paper towels. Okay, I gotta make a list.”
“Phil, listen, I know you like it here, but why don’t you stay with us for a few days?”
“Because here I don’t have a phone yet.”
“What?”
He looked at her. “If she calls, she’ll call you. Better that way Julia.”
“What about Helen and Daniel?”
“I’m getting a new line in this week. I’ll give them the number. But I can’t talk to her right now. I just can’t.”
Julia nodded. “Okay, yeah, sure. That’s fine. We’ll run interference. Phil, I love you. What else can we do?”
“Nothing,” he said, scribbling grocery items. “Let’s see, toilet paper, milk, juice, what else?”
“What?”
“Julia, what else do I need?”
She stared at him. “A break.”
He laughed. “Yeah, okay, a break. Got it. Oh, eggs.”
“Phil?”
“Yeah?”
“Look at me Phil.”
“What Julia?”
“You need to go to Ohio now, today. Well, tomorrow. Ray and I’ll make sure the phone gets installed. I don’t want you going back down there. I want you to go to Columbus.”
“Julia…”
“Phil, I mean it. Sunshine can just deal with it. She doesn’t know, does she?”
“No, she does.”
“She does?”
“Yup. One of the reasons, or so she said, for getting fucked up again.”
Julia slammed her hands against her thighs. “That stupid fucking cunt!”
“Yeah, my thoughts exactly,” Phil said, s
till writing items on the list.
Julia approached him, taking his pen. “Phil, look at me. You can’t do this anymore. She’s the one who needs the shrink, but you need to go to Columbus. Phil, please, he needs you, Helen needs you. And honey,” she said, stroking his face. “You need them. You need reality, even if it is shitty. Not California, certainly not fucking Los Angeles. Please, for me? If not for them, will you fly to Columbus for me?”
He shook, then smiled. “Fly to Florida for you, now Columbus. Anything else you want?”
“Hug him for me.” Then Julia burrowed into Phil’s chest. “Tell him I love him, oh God, please Phil. Please tell him how much I love him, Helen too!”
Phil only stood because Julia held him upright. “Okay honey, sure, I’ll tell him. I’ll tell him.”
“Hey, just wanted you to know I’m here, and thanks, from all of us, for being such a pushy… Well, I’d say something else, but Grandma’s tapping her foot. Listen, if she calls, don’t tell her where I am. I don’t want her calling here, although she probably will. But at least for a few days, or weeks, or months.” Laughter. “Who knows how long?”
“Hey Helen, Phil, Daniel. Just a friendly Californian, wanting you to know we send lots of love. Glad you’re gonna have turkey there Phil, but we’ll miss you. I, uh, wrote you a letter. Now, don’t fall off your chair. I got bored, and, well, I’m not writing anything else at the moment, so consider yourself graced with my virtual presence. Okay so we’ll chat, hopefully in person, and if not, then soon. Bye!”
“Hey Julia, got your letter. Or really, your memoir. If you never actually finish that novel and if I outlive you, I’ll publish the behemoth that probably put the postman’s back in traction. So, what can I tell you? Grandpa’s sleeping right now, Grandma’s at the store. What she told him, really it’s a support group for widows-to-be. Those are her words, she’s taking this pretty well. He’s not, and what I mean is that he’s in denial. Which I guess is to be expected. I’m not fazed, I’ve been living in denial for what, three years now? Three or four, when did I have Thanksgiving at your house, shit, that was ’85, and I’d been seeing her for what, two years already? I’ve been in denial for five years Julia, pretty damn dumb of me. But you were right, I needed to be here, and yeah, she called a few nights back, said she had something to tell me, but she was so wired, it’ll never change. I told her I wasn’t coming back, told her Gordon had her stuff. She hadn’t even gone looking for it yet. Shit! It’s over, it really is. I can’t do this anymore, and I won’t. I told Grandma everything except about the baby. She only nodded, told me I was a good boy, like I was ten again. Maybe she’ll always see me like some helpless kid. Anyways, at least she knows most of it. Grandpa asked, I told him we were split up, he’s not asked anything else. Julia, shit. Listen, I’ll, uh, be here till after Christmas, then probably come back there, get the rest of my stuff moved up to Berkeley. I’m not gonna keep two houses, that’s just stupid. I’m tired of being stupid Julia, been dumb for too fucking long. Okay so that’s the plan. I’ll call you at your folks, wanna chat with Chuck for a minute. Better that Grandpa goes first, you know, he is older than your dad. Better this way Julia, better this way.”
“Hey Phil, it’s me. Listen, I, uh, got a call from her today, and if you could call me, like soon, that’d be great. Thanks. Uh, hi Helen, hi Daniel. Hope you all have a great turkey day!”
“Hey Julia? I’m at home, in LA. Listen, I, uh, she’s here Julia. She’s in the bedroom. She’s, uh, Julia, pick up please. Julia? She, uh, she’s dead. Please pick up?”
“Phil, shit, are you there? Listen, Ray’s making arrangements, we’ll be down there as soon as we can. Phil, whatever you do, don’t move. Don’t go in there Phil. Phil? Phil, please pick up baby! Phil?”
“Julia?”
“Phil? Oh my God, oh Phil, Jesus Christ!”
“I called 911. Julia, she shot herself.”
“Oh Phil, no fucking way!”
“Julia, she knew about Dad. I just told her, God, in Berkeley, just weeks ago, months I guess. Julia, she knew that’s how he died.”
“Oh Phil!”
“Julia, she, uh, she’s all over the wall. I found her, maybe she’d just done it. I was too late Julia, too late.”
“Phil, listen, just stay right where you are. Just wait for the cops. Jesus fucking Christ. Just sit there and I swear, we’ll be right there. Oh God! Phil, Phil?”
“Julia, she was pregnant.”
“What?”
“She was pregnant. She sent me a letter two weeks ago, told me she was pregnant, that’s why I came back here. Said she was gonna keep it, in the letter you know. She wrote that even if things between us weren’t gonna last, she was gonna keep the baby.”
“Phil, are you fucking shitting me?”
“She looks it, I mean, she’s lying on the bed and…”
“Phil, Jesus Christ! Just stay there. No wait, as soon as they take her away, go over to Gordon’s. Is Gordon home?”
“I, uh, I dunno.”
“Phil, listen to me and do exactly as I say. As soon as the cops arrive, just let them deal with it. You go over to Gordon’s and stay right there. Ray and I’ll be in LA sometime tonight. Phil, you listening to me?”
“She shot herself just like Dad did Julia, right through the temples.”
“Okay Phil, I hear you. Phil, repeat what I just said.”
“Okay Phil I hear you.”
“No Phil, before that. What are you gonna do when the cops show up?”
“Go to Gordon’s after they leave. Stay at Gordon’s till you get here.”
“Okay Phil, that’s good. Now, what are you gonna do?”
“Sit here until the cops arrive. Then go to Gordon’s after they’re gone.”
“Okay Phil, good. I love you Phil. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“I love you too Julia. Hey Julia?”
“Yeah?”
“She was gonna have our baby and she shot herself just like Dad did.”
“I know Phil, I know and I am so sorry honey. Just sit tight, okay?”
“Uh-huh. Okay Julia.”
“Okay Phil. Phil?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you Phil. Promise me you’ll be at Gordon’s when I get there.”
“I promise Julia. I promise.”
Chapter 7