The Resistance(57)

“How did you meet Cory?” I ask, leaning my head on the chain of the swing and watching her.

Her eyes find him across the yard. He’s laughing while pushing a popping kid’s toy and running from their son. She smiles, then turns to me. “Would you believe I’m from the streets of elite—a goth, Greek girl who grew up in Boston?”

I’m too intrigued to interrupt and I have a feeling most people would feel the same. She has a great energy about her. Her brown eyes are welcoming and her smile warm as she sways on the swing next to me, and continues, “I was born and raised in Boston, Beacon Hill to be precise. Well, raised is relative. I lived there until I was sixteen. I left at seventeen before I graduated.” She laughs, pushing herself off, and swinging with her legs out in front of her. “Feels almost stereotypical to say, but my great-grandfather was in shipping and freighting back in Greece and did very well. Very Aristotle Onassis of him. He moved to America, coming over on a luxury yacht, opting out of the rickety sea ships back in those days. He settled in Boston, feeling it was nicer than New York, which was going through an industrial transition at the time.”

She stops, her feet dragging in the grass below. “It’s my history that led me to Cory.” She stands and starts to walk and I follow, catching up with her. “I hear you have tattoos?”

“Just one, right here on my side.” I lift my shirt up just enough to show her, suddenly wanting her approval and friendship.

She stops and leans down as much as her baby belly will allow and studies it. “Johnny called it sexy,” she says casually. “I’d have to agree. It’s very sensual in the artistry of the curves. Does it represent anything special?” She stops and looks me in the eyes, genuinely interested.

“It represents my journey, everything that is my life.”

“It’s beautiful, Holli, and very you.”

“Thank you.”

She shakes her head as if a thought just hit her. “Oh, you were asking about Cory. So I decided the Colonial Colonies weren’t for me. Yeah, Boston wasn’t exactly Plymouth and not quite Massachusetts Bay, but it wasn’t me either, so I sat my parents down and had a heart to heart with them. I told them I was moving to the City of Lost Angels because it felt more like the place I was supposed to be.”

“And they just let you go?”

Laughter. “Um, no, but I was too determined. I packed one suitcase—five albums and three outfits in it. Pulled on my Doc Marten’s and caught a flight to L.A. the next day.”

A long story might bore some, but she’s so animated that I’m happy to listen till the end.

At the picnic table, she pours herself a glass of lemonade, offering me one, and continues. “My parents gave me a monthly stipend if I worked on my GED, which I did, and I got a full-time job at a guitar store. That’s where I met Cory. He was this geeky seventeen-year-old, who had mowed lawns all summer to buy a guitar, hoping to learn how to play and woo the ladies. We became friends because he hung around so much. I was self taught from the age of thirteen and gave him lessons five days a week. I sucked. He knew it, though he won’t admit it.” She shrugs and smiles again. “I don’t know what it was that drew me to him. He had no cool moves and he didn’t own a vintage rock shirt to save his life, but he was shy and really sweet when you got to know him. He made me laugh, made me feel pretty, and won me over.”

“Wow. That is such a romantic and sweet story.”

Her eyes are on Cory again and she smiles. “Just like him.”

I follow her gaze. Dalton’s talking to Cory, both of them looking our way. He sends a little wave in my direction, and I return one with a smile.

“We met Johnny two years later. He walked into the store with all this bravado and attitude—angry at the world, and very determined. We all got to talking one night over beers in this garage that he was renting and it just came together. The start of the band.”

Neil comes from behind her and tugs on her skirt. She looks down and around and a wide grin covers her face. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a little monkey to tend to.”

“Of course. No problem.”

While walking away, she turns around, and says, “I’m glad you came today. It’s really nice to meet you, Holli.”

“You too. Thanks for having me.”

“Anytime.” She disappears into the house.

A hand slides around my waist, and a warm whisper tickles my ear. “I’ve been missing you. That can’t be normal, right?”

I turn in Dalton’s arms and wrap mine around his neck. “You might need to see a doctor about that?”