white-shirted waiter comes and he orders white wine.
“I was looking at that crowd at the Fillmore. Dru nk, stoned, flying on acid—I’ve seen more than enough of that when we’re on tour. It’s like Tommy and the people he hangs out with, too. He’s worse at 22 than I was at 17—but the whole scene was too much for me tonight.” Then he adds in his honey voice: “It doesn’t have anything to do with you, baby.”
The waiter brings the wine, two glasses , pours and leaves.
He takes my face in his hands and kisses me on the forehead.
“Why did you do that?”
“Because if I kissed you on your mouth I don’t think I could stop and I don’t want to be arrested for making love to you in public.” He has a smile on his face and I realize it is a joke—sort of. Then he adds in his honey voice. “When we make love for the first time, Julia, I want it to be someplace quiet and beautiful.”
He runs his fingers gently across my lips.
“You know we’re going to make love, don’t you?”
I start to turn my head away. It’s truth or dare again—times 10. His hand grasps my chin and he gently pulls my face back toward him.
“Don’t do that, baby. Don’t turn away from me. It won’t do you any good. It’s going to happen and you know it.”
I feel panicky. My heart is pounding. Part of me wants to say : ‘Yes. Yes.’ But part of me is afraid. What if I do say ‘Yes’ and he decides the next day that he is done with me and drops me like some disposable groupie. It couldn’t handle that. I don’t want to get hurt. But I want it to happen. I want him. I am afraid. I don’t know.
He laughs softly. “I’m not going to drag you off by your hair, Julia. Come on. Smile at me.”
I smile. And then we talk of other things. But my doubts, my longings linger, distracting me.
It must be close to midnight when he says: “I think we’d better call it a night. I’m driving down to L.A. tomorrow and we want to get an early start. We’re going to begin rehearsals and recording this week. And I want to talk to Joe about Tommy. Tommy was his big idea.”
Oh, this is it. He’s leaving San Francisco. I guess it’s better that I didn’t say ‘Yes’. Now I won’t be hurt too much. In time it will just be a brief adventure as the rock ‘n’ roll girlfriend I can look back on. In time.
The front gate squeaks as he opens it and we walk to the front door. He puts one arm around me and with his other hand lifts my face up to his and kisses me. At first soft ly, then more intensely. I put my arms around him and melt into him. It feels so good. He feels so good. I want this to go on and on.
Then he pulls me away from him and kisses my forehead. “Sweet Dreams. ” Then kisses it again: “Dream of me. I’ll call you, Julia.”
Chapter Eight
Ali is talking about the antiwar demonstration she and Drew attended yesterday downtown. She is seeing him often. I don’t know whether it’s because she really likes him or she likes the politics of the antiwar effort or simply likes going out a lot. They were disappointed in the turnout. Maybe Sunday at a downtown location was not a good idea.
“Julia, did you hear a word I said?” Ali asks. Her voice sounds concerned.
“Yes. You said downtown on Sunday wasn’t a good idea.”
“Well, you’re at least partly here. Why don’t you just go to bed with him? You know that’s what you want to do.” She smiles.
“He’s in L.A.”
“When did he go to Los Angeles?”
“ Yesterday morning.”
“ And how long is he going to be there?”
“ A week or two. He said they’re starting to record their next album. He said he’d call.”
“Oh Julia , I hope that’s true. But maybe it’s…” Her voice fades then she goes on: “Let’s fix something for dinner. Would you like linguine with walnuts and ham? The recipe for it sounds quick and
“I was looking at that crowd at the Fillmore. Dru nk, stoned, flying on acid—I’ve seen more than enough of that when we’re on tour. It’s like Tommy and the people he hangs out with, too. He’s worse at 22 than I was at 17—but the whole scene was too much for me tonight.” Then he adds in his honey voice: “It doesn’t have anything to do with you, baby.”
The waiter brings the wine, two glasses , pours and leaves.
He takes my face in his hands and kisses me on the forehead.
“Why did you do that?”
“Because if I kissed you on your mouth I don’t think I could stop and I don’t want to be arrested for making love to you in public.” He has a smile on his face and I realize it is a joke—sort of. Then he adds in his honey voice. “When we make love for the first time, Julia, I want it to be someplace quiet and beautiful.”
He runs his fingers gently across my lips.
“You know we’re going to make love, don’t you?”
I start to turn my head away. It’s truth or dare again—times 10. His hand grasps my chin and he gently pulls my face back toward him.
“Don’t do that, baby. Don’t turn away from me. It won’t do you any good. It’s going to happen and you know it.”
I feel panicky. My heart is pounding. Part of me wants to say : ‘Yes. Yes.’ But part of me is afraid. What if I do say ‘Yes’ and he decides the next day that he is done with me and drops me like some disposable groupie. It couldn’t handle that. I don’t want to get hurt. But I want it to happen. I want him. I am afraid. I don’t know.
He laughs softly. “I’m not going to drag you off by your hair, Julia. Come on. Smile at me.”
I smile. And then we talk of other things. But my doubts, my longings linger, distracting me.
It must be close to midnight when he says: “I think we’d better call it a night. I’m driving down to L.A. tomorrow and we want to get an early start. We’re going to begin rehearsals and recording this week. And I want to talk to Joe about Tommy. Tommy was his big idea.”
Oh, this is it. He’s leaving San Francisco. I guess it’s better that I didn’t say ‘Yes’. Now I won’t be hurt too much. In time it will just be a brief adventure as the rock ‘n’ roll girlfriend I can look back on. In time.
The front gate squeaks as he opens it and we walk to the front door. He puts one arm around me and with his other hand lifts my face up to his and kisses me. At first soft ly, then more intensely. I put my arms around him and melt into him. It feels so good. He feels so good. I want this to go on and on.
Then he pulls me away from him and kisses my forehead. “Sweet Dreams. ” Then kisses it again: “Dream of me. I’ll call you, Julia.”
Chapter Eight
Ali is talking about the antiwar demonstration she and Drew attended yesterday downtown. She is seeing him often. I don’t know whether it’s because she really likes him or she likes the politics of the antiwar effort or simply likes going out a lot. They were disappointed in the turnout. Maybe Sunday at a downtown location was not a good idea.
“Julia, did you hear a word I said?” Ali asks. Her voice sounds concerned.
“Yes. You said downtown on Sunday wasn’t a good idea.”
“Well, you’re at least partly here. Why don’t you just go to bed with him? You know that’s what you want to do.” She smiles.
“He’s in L.A.”
“When did he go to Los Angeles?”
“ Yesterday morning.”
“ And how long is he going to be there?”
“ A week or two. He said they’re starting to record their next album. He said he’d call.”
“Oh Julia , I hope that’s true. But maybe it’s…” Her voice fades then she goes on: “Let’s fix something for dinner. Would you like linguine with walnuts and ham? The recipe for it sounds quick and
Similar Books
