Page 12 of Feuds and Interludes
“But when I got back, I found out the two had come to blows. I felt terrible!Iwas the cause of their friendship falling apart. It was awful, Boone. After their fight, Bruce left and no one heard from him for days. John came to my apartment, and he asked me to marry him. It felt terribly unfair to say yes when I still had feelings for Bruce, but I knew that if I married Bruce, I’d lose myself, my career. John was the driven one. He was very career oriented, and he supported mine as well. I suppose I felt likechoosing John was the responsible thing to do…if you can call marrying a rock star responsible.”
I chuckled. “I think that’s a stretch, Gran. I think even Papa would laugh.”
She reached over and placed her hand on my cheek. “He would. We both loved Bruce and we felt awful, but when he didn’t return for months, I finally agreed to marry John. I tried sending word to Bruce, wrote him letters. He responded with, ‘I wish you both happiness and a long life together.’ It broke my heart, but we went ahead with the wedding.”
Her eyes drifted over to their wedding photos still hanging on the wall. I’d never seen a more beautiful couple.
“So what happened then? That wasn’t when they broke up, was it?”
She shook her head. “California stuck together for a couple of years after that. Bruce was kind to me, stiff with John, but we were all civil with each other. Then John decided to go solo, and then we had Jean…Bruce didn’t even put up a fight when the band called it quits. John attempted to keep up their friendship, but he was always so sad when he came back from seeing him. I think he regretted losing his best friend, and as close as we were, I could never be to him what Bruce was.”
“I’ve always dreamed about finding someone I could connect with on a musical as well as a romantic level. I know it’s cliche, and rock and roll marriages rarely last, but look at Paul and Linda McCartney, or Pat Benatar and Neil Giraldo. And you and Papa. I want a love like that, for the ages.”
She smiled, her eyes teary. “And I wish that for you, dear boy. Don’t settle for less.” She looked at the clock on the mantle behind me. “Oh, my. I’ve got to hurry. I told Bruce I would meet him at eight.”
I slumped on the bench. “Are yousurethis is a good idea?”
She turned to face me with her mascara wand in hand and immediately donned the Gran posture, the one that let me know I was about to hear it.
“Boone Randolph Collins. It is a perfectly acceptable idea. I am having dinner with an old friend?—”
“Who just told the whole world he’s still in love with you.”
She threw a makeup sponge at me. “He did no such thing. Now, quit your sulking. You need to find something to do with yourself tonight. I don’t want to come back and find you on a bender.” She raised her eyebrows and turned back to the mirror.
I fell back on her bed with a huff. “I already threw out all the ice cream and cookies. Maybe I’ll do some online shopping. All of my pants are falling off.”
“What a terrible problem to have,” she said and winked at me in the mirror. “You’re doing so well, dear boy. I know it’s hard, and I’m so sorry you’re having to deal with this.”
I shrugged. “Guess it’s time for me to develop some responsible habits.”
She burst out laughing and she sounded so like a girl, I sat up. She stood in front of her full-length mirror, smoothing down the flowy dress she wore. It was a navy layered chiffon number with spaghetti straps that gave her an air of whimsy. I could imagine it reminded her of the time when she was in a love triangle with two brilliant musicians and the world held in thrall.
I didn’t want to be the weight tying her to the pain in her past. I wanted her to keep smiling like she was right now.
“I’ll get my keys and drop you off.” Gran never drove at night because she hated wearing her glasses. She’d gotten over a lot of her vanity since stepping back from Hollywood, but every once in a while it showed through.
“My dearest dear boy.”
I didn’t even care that she still called me a boy.
The drive was fraught with traffic hazards, but I kept my cool while listening to her sing along to Dionne Warwick and Carole King. She had such a lovely, soft, breathy voice, but anytime I’d compliment her, she’d laugh it away.
“No, you boys were always my singers.”
I pulled up to the back entrance and put the car in park. I started to climb out and Gran placed her hand over mine.
“Don’t be silly. I’ll call you when I’m finished.”
“I’ll be nearby. Be safe.”
She smiled at me like a teenager headed out on a first date, and then leaned over and kissed my cheek.“Thanks, Boone.”
Oh, now I’m Boone? Not dear boy?
The valet opened the door for her and she smiled regally, giving him a nod and a thank you. Her dress hung low in the back and she walked steadily on three-inch heels.
Man, I hope I’ve got it that good when I’m sixty-six.
