The Obsession(69)
“A microcosm,” he countered, pleased she’d forgotten her reserve, distrust, whatever it was, long enough to tell the story. “It tells me you’ve got guts and spine, but I already knew that. You do album covers?”
“I have. Nobody major. Unless you’ve heard of Rocket Science.”
“Retro-funk.”
“You surprise me.”
“I haven’t even started. The band’s working on another CD.”
“Another?”
“We did one a couple years ago. Mostly for tourists, or when we do a wedding, that kind of thing. How about it?”
“You’re looking for a photographer?”
“Jenny’s cousin’s friend did the last one. It wasn’t bad. I figure you’d do better.”
“Maybe. Let me know when you’re ready, and we’ll see. How long have you been playing?”
“With the band or at all?”
“Both.”
“With these guys, about four years. Altogether, since I was around twelve. Kevin and I started a bandLelo on bass, just like now.”
Obviously surprised, she lowered her wineglass. “Kevin?”
“Do not ask him to play his Pearl Jam tribute. Trust me.”
“Does he play the guitar?”
“You can’t really call it playing.”
“That’s mean,” she said with a laugh.
“It’s truth. Let’s eat.” He took her hand again, this time tugging her inside. “We did some local gigsschool dances, parties. After high school, we lost our drummer to the Marines, Kevin did the college thing, Lelo stayed stoned.”
“And you?”
He pulled the takeout from the oven, where he’d kept it warm. “I hit trade school, worked here, picked up some gigs. Some with Lelo when he realized he wasn’t going to get the girls, and couldn’t play worth crap when he was stoned.”
She thought of the wall of books, looked over at it again. “No college for you?”
“Hated school. Trade school, that was different. But regular school. They tell you what to learn, what to read, so I opted out, learned from Hobart, learned from trade school, took some business classes.”
“Business classes.”
“If you’re going to have your own, you have to know how to run a business.”
He divided the salad from the take-out box in the fridge into two bowls, transferred the eggplant parm to plates, and added the breadsticks the pizzeria was locally famous for.
“This actually looks great.” She sat, and smiled when Xander pulled a rawhide bone out of a cupboard. “Smart.”
“It’ll keep him busy. What was your first picture? You had to have a first.”
“We had a long weekend in the Hamptonsfriends of my uncles. I’d never seen the ocean, and oh God, it was so amazing. Just amazing. Seth let me use his little point-and-shoot Canon, and I took rolls and rolls of film. And that was that. What was the first song you learned to play? You had to have a first.”
“It’s embarrassing. ‘I’m a Believer.’ The Monkees,” he added.
“Oh, sure. Really? It’s catchy, but doesn’t seem your style.”
“I liked the riff, you know . . .” He diddled it out. “I wanted to figure out how to play it. Kevin’s mom used to play old records all the time, and that one kept circling around. His dad had an old acoustic guitar, and I worked on it until I could more or less play it. Saved up, bought a secondhand Gibson.”
“The one in the bedroom?”
“Yeah. I keep it handy. I figured out, by the time I was fifteen, that if you had a guitar and could even pretend to play it, you got the girls. How’s the parm?”
“You were right. It’s really good. So you got the girls, being as you can more than pretend to play, but none of them stuck?”
“Jenny might have.”
“Jenny?” She set down her fork. “Jenny-Jenny?”
“Jenny Walker back then, and I saw her first. New girl in school, just moved up from Olympia, and pretty as a butterscotch sundae. I asked her out before Kevin. Kissed her first, too.”
“Is that so?”
“It’s Keaton/Banner history. I was about half in love with her, but he was all the way in love with her.”
“And there’s bros before hos.”
Grinning, he picked up a breadstick. “You said it, I didn’t. I ended up playing Cyrano to his Christian, finally got his guts up to ask her out. And that, as we’ve said, is that. I’m still half in love with her.”
“Me, too. And the package along with it. They’re like central casting called for a great-looking, all-American family, dog included. If you’re waiting for another Jenny, you’re going to be out of luck. I’m pretty sure she’s one of a kind.”