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.No arguments.”I allowed myself to be pulled along like a child and deposited in an ornate booth at a fancy steakhouse.Lanie chatted brightly about everything under the sun and downed red wine as if it were water.I gnawed on breadsticks and tried to force bites of charred steak down my resistant throat.“Excuse me,” I choked, running in haste for the restroom as Lanie ogled me with suspicion.Closed inside of a narrow stall, I sank to the floor and tried to fight down the waves of nausea.But my deep breathing only intensified the mingled stench of stale toilet water and sizzling meat.After I was finished heaving into the toilet I washed my face and reapplied my makeup.My skin was very pale and dark circles still showed under my eyes.Lanie insisted on paying the entire bill herself.Since I had eaten perhaps three bites of my expensive dinner I felt a little guilty.Despite my esteem for Stevie, I just wanted to go back to my bed and sink into the blackness of a long sleep, but Lanie had gone to some trouble and expense to obtain the tickets.I’d been to Fenway Park once before for a Red Sox game.The landmark was on my lengthy list of things to do the first year I’d arrived in Boston.I’d always been a rather noncommittal baseball fan, however I was as chagrined as the rest of my new city when that promising season ended in a crushing World Series loss to the New York Mets.Lanie clutched my arm as we were herded through the gates with thousands of others.I’d heard on the radio that the concert was sold out and as I was bumped and jostled from all directions I prayed I wouldn’t puke on anyone.The roar was deafening as the lady herself took the stage and launched right into ‘Edge of Seventeen’.It was among my favorites in her lengthy catalog but as she belted out the lyrics I only heard one.It resounded in my ears again and again.When I closed my eyes against the bright stadium lights it was there too, written in angular script across a well-muscled back.Seventeen.Seventeen.Stevie quieted the crowd with an exquisite rendition of ‘Landslide’.As she performed all the songs I knew by heart and loved I started to relax and simply enjoy the music.Until she began to sing ‘Talk to Me’.The lyrics struck a deep chord in my soul and brought him back.With each tortuous word I could see each moment we’d been together since he’d startled me at the block party.We had begun as something heady and dangerous but by the time he kissed me in the dark of his porch it was already something else for me.I’d caught him more than once gazing at me with a tense, waiting expression, as if there was more on his mind than I could begin to guess.Dammit Marco, what did you want to say? And that last night as you left me and walked away, if only you’d turned around…There had been so much hanging in limbo, so much unspoken; his prison time, our shared childhood, the specter of Cross Point Village, the nearly unbearable mutual passion which overcame us and the careless disregard of any costs in the quest to satisfy it.Lanie was so lost in the music she didn’t hear my thick sobs.I pushed blindly through the crowd, consumed by an overwhelming desire to get out of there.I’d made it outside and was leaning against a brick wall for dear life when I heard my name being called in strident, panicked tones.“Angie! Jesus, what the hell?”Lanie stopped dead when she got a look at my face.A trio of young professionals wandered past and looked at us with interest as I wiped the tears from my cheeks.Wordlessly Lanie took me by the hand and led me around to a dark corner.“Now,” she demanded.“WHAT?”Weakly I leaned my head back and in a halting, stammering voice I told her.Lanie was silent for a long moment as the wild sounds of the concert drifted outside.“Are you sure?” she finally asked.I nodded.“Saw a doctor this afternoon.”“And it’s definitely um…”“Marco’s? Yes.” I stared at the dirty ground, finding it unnecessary to mention that I hadn’t been with scrupulously cautious Brian since before my last period.As for Marco… “We weren’t exactly careful, Lanie.”My friend didn’t scold or accuse or ask me unanswerable questions about what the hell I was going to do.She just sighed and wrapped me in a hug and let me cry.Lanie didn’t try to urge me to stay out longer.As she deposited me in front of my BMW, she only gazed at me with sadness.“Happy Birthday, Angela,” she said softly.Though there had been a brief respite from the recurrent summer rains, drops began to fall thickly on my windshield as I drove back to Beacon Hill.As I walked the short distance from the parking garage to my apartment the rain began to fall more heavily but I made no move to quicken my step or shield my head.It was parked illegally and sitting in lonesome fashion in front of my place.I recognized it immediately.I knew that bike [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]