making more racket before the back door finally squeaked opened and slammed shut.
She let out an exasperated sigh to aspirate the tension, then hunkered down again. Surrounded by a blanket of silence and darkness, she focused on the hypnotic pattern of her breathing and let her mind wander back to fuzzy, soothing thoughts. She was nearly where she’d left off when a sonic bomb blast jolted her upright.
Love in an elevator! Lovin’ it up ’til I hit the ground!
She heaved off the covers and flipped up her sleep mask, furiously fumbling for her robe. Haphazardly, she threw on her robe over her tank top and boyshorts and stormed from the living room, through the kitchen and out to the Aerosmith concert in the backyard. There were a half-dozen guys camped out in lawn chairs, drinking beer around the fire pit.
“CJ?” she called out, straining above the teeth-rattling decibels thumping from the trunk of his precious Firebird. “CJ!”
“What?” he hollered back.
“It’s eleven-thirty. Turn that fucking music down or I swear, I’ll get a sledgehammer and do it for you.”
“Ooh.” One of his buddies mocked him. “Better do what yo mama tells you, boy.”
“C’mon, Day, it’s not that loud. Go back to bed.”
Another loser wearing a shirt that said All You Can Eat tipped his beer in her direction. “I’ll help you find your way back if you like, sweetie.”
Dayna immediately shut her robe and scowled. “I mean it, CJ. I need to get up for work in four hours. Turn it down right now or I’m calling the cops.”
“Go ahead, see if I care.” He lip curled arrogantly. “They’ll tell you I can play it as loud as I want for another half an hour. They can’t touch me ’til midnight.”
“Who is this chick anyway?” asked the first buddy as he fisted a handful of barbecue potato chips.
CJ dismissed her presence with an indifferent wave. “No one, it’s just my ex.”
“Thank the Lord for that,” she said. “Now turn the music down.”
“Maybe you’ve forgotten what good music is, now that you’re only listening to that country shit.”
“As if you would know good music, playing Celine Dion twice a shift.” She snarled. “I don’t care whether you’re blasting Metallica or Hank Williams. It’s too loud and I’m asking you to have some respect and turn it down.”
He glared at her with defiance. “If you want to talk respect, then you’d better respect the fact that this is my place. I make the rules and I can do what I want.”
“For the time being, it’s my place too. So stop being a child, set the volume to a reasonable level and I’ll get off your back.” Her eye twitched, but she fought back and successfully blinked it away as if battling a stray eyelash.
“You really are a bitch, you know that?” He hissed, then stomped off to the parking pad and leaned in through the car window. The volume instantly lowered.
“Thank you.” She turned her back and opened the door. As she stepped one foot inside the kitchen, there was a roar of jeering laughter behind her. “Assholes,” she muttered, finding her way back to bed in the dark.
Dayna didn’t stir again until the beep of her alarm’s wakeup call at three-thirty. She made up her bed, refolding the couch and replacing the cushions without a peep, then crept upstairs to shower as quickly as possible without disturbing CJ sleeping across the hall. Like a ghost, she tiptoed back down to change her clothes and finish doing her hair. She grabbed a banana, silently scarfing it down while packing her bag with notes and magazine clippings for that week’s shows.
With car keys gripped firmly in hand, she quietly edged open the front door and was about to exit the house when it suddenly occurred to her that she’d forgotten something. Slinking back into the kitchen, she flipped on the radio and set the dial to 103. Then she cranked up the volume as loud as it would go and left for work.
* * * *
Tack was accustomed to
She let out an exasperated sigh to aspirate the tension, then hunkered down again. Surrounded by a blanket of silence and darkness, she focused on the hypnotic pattern of her breathing and let her mind wander back to fuzzy, soothing thoughts. She was nearly where she’d left off when a sonic bomb blast jolted her upright.
Love in an elevator! Lovin’ it up ’til I hit the ground!
She heaved off the covers and flipped up her sleep mask, furiously fumbling for her robe. Haphazardly, she threw on her robe over her tank top and boyshorts and stormed from the living room, through the kitchen and out to the Aerosmith concert in the backyard. There were a half-dozen guys camped out in lawn chairs, drinking beer around the fire pit.
“CJ?” she called out, straining above the teeth-rattling decibels thumping from the trunk of his precious Firebird. “CJ!”
“What?” he hollered back.
“It’s eleven-thirty. Turn that fucking music down or I swear, I’ll get a sledgehammer and do it for you.”
“Ooh.” One of his buddies mocked him. “Better do what yo mama tells you, boy.”
“C’mon, Day, it’s not that loud. Go back to bed.”
Another loser wearing a shirt that said All You Can Eat tipped his beer in her direction. “I’ll help you find your way back if you like, sweetie.”
Dayna immediately shut her robe and scowled. “I mean it, CJ. I need to get up for work in four hours. Turn it down right now or I’m calling the cops.”
“Go ahead, see if I care.” He lip curled arrogantly. “They’ll tell you I can play it as loud as I want for another half an hour. They can’t touch me ’til midnight.”
“Who is this chick anyway?” asked the first buddy as he fisted a handful of barbecue potato chips.
CJ dismissed her presence with an indifferent wave. “No one, it’s just my ex.”
“Thank the Lord for that,” she said. “Now turn the music down.”
“Maybe you’ve forgotten what good music is, now that you’re only listening to that country shit.”
“As if you would know good music, playing Celine Dion twice a shift.” She snarled. “I don’t care whether you’re blasting Metallica or Hank Williams. It’s too loud and I’m asking you to have some respect and turn it down.”
He glared at her with defiance. “If you want to talk respect, then you’d better respect the fact that this is my place. I make the rules and I can do what I want.”
“For the time being, it’s my place too. So stop being a child, set the volume to a reasonable level and I’ll get off your back.” Her eye twitched, but she fought back and successfully blinked it away as if battling a stray eyelash.
“You really are a bitch, you know that?” He hissed, then stomped off to the parking pad and leaned in through the car window. The volume instantly lowered.
“Thank you.” She turned her back and opened the door. As she stepped one foot inside the kitchen, there was a roar of jeering laughter behind her. “Assholes,” she muttered, finding her way back to bed in the dark.
Dayna didn’t stir again until the beep of her alarm’s wakeup call at three-thirty. She made up her bed, refolding the couch and replacing the cushions without a peep, then crept upstairs to shower as quickly as possible without disturbing CJ sleeping across the hall. Like a ghost, she tiptoed back down to change her clothes and finish doing her hair. She grabbed a banana, silently scarfing it down while packing her bag with notes and magazine clippings for that week’s shows.
With car keys gripped firmly in hand, she quietly edged open the front door and was about to exit the house when it suddenly occurred to her that she’d forgotten something. Slinking back into the kitchen, she flipped on the radio and set the dial to 103. Then she cranked up the volume as loud as it would go and left for work.
* * * *
Tack was accustomed to
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