Play With You (Loneliness) Page 7

  I gasp and begin crying anew, one hand covering my mouth.

  "Johanna Williams, will you do me the distinct honor of marrying me? Make me an honest man. I love you, girl, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Please say you'll become Johanna Hadley...put me out of my misery, girl!"

  I nod, tears streaming down my face. "Yes! Yes, yes, yes, I'll marry you, Marcus Hadley!" I hold my hand out to Marcus, trying to still the trembling.

  He's trembling nearly as badly as I am! He takes my hand and shakily slides the beautiful engagement ring on my third finger. It fits beautifully! Wrapping his arms around me, he cries, joining his tears to mine.

  "I've been in love with you since before we got together, Johanna. I love the way you think, the way love. I love how you treat people. I love your singing voice and work ethic. Johanna, I just want to be with you, as your husband, lover, friend, father of our children...until the day we are taken home," Marcus says huskily.

  "I'm glad you told me this...are you sure you're not feeling...trapped?"

  "Positive. The only regret I have..."

  "Regret?" I question.

  "Is that you have felt so deadly ill and ended up in hospital because of it."

  I exhale in relief. "So...you truly do love...us?"

  "With all my being, sweetheart," Marcus says with feeling.

  We want to go to bed and make love, but we have to get to practice. Marcus, my ever-inventive fiance, suggests a quickie. Now that I'm feeling human again, I enthusiastically participate. Our mutual orgasm is explosive. I feel his legs trembling as he allows me to slide down his body - my own legs tremble as well. I get dressed again and we give cheeky grins to each other as we leave for the concert venue. Before we get there, Marcus spots a small grocery store and asks the driver to stop. He buys me fruits and snacks to keep my belly full and calm. Practice goes very well. I am feeling strong and healthy again, so I sing strong and hit every note during practice.

  After the concert, we stop at an all-night restaurant - these are very common here in the United States - and order food. I am amazed - just a few weeks ago, I couldn't stand food and now, I can't seem to get enough of it! Of course, I do find that staying away from greasy or overly spicy foods is better for my well-being, so I stick with breakfast foods, salads or sandwiches.

  The next morning, we get up and prepare to fly to our last concert location - Spokane, Washington. When we arrive, we find that the temperatures are much cooler here, even more than Seattle, though it's still summer time. I had heard that the temperatures can range widely in this country, but until I actually experienced it, I was a bit skeptical about this information. The cooler temperatures mean that I exhale in relief as we step out of the bus's doors, pulling our luggage behind us. We decide to rest a bit before we go to the concert venue to practice.

  As a result of the plane ride, when the boys open their instrument cases, they find damage to their guitars and even to Linny's drums. This is disastrous. We had used the same instruments for nearly two years. Most of our equipment had large sentimental value. These can't even be repaired. They'll have to be replaced. All of us are livid. After he calms down, Marcus says he'll call a local music store to prepare what we need.

  "You lot buy what you need. I'll file a complaint with the airport."

  Half an hour later, we have replacement instruments loaded in a shuttle and Marcus has figured out how to file claims for everyone's damaged musical instruments. We arrive at our practice space and begin preparing our new, unfamiliar instruments.

  As it turns out, after several painstaking minutes of minute adjustments to each instrument, they are perfectly tuned. Practice goes well, although I still have to wear a headset to see if I can detect any deviations in any instruments. True to his word, Tim has a serious conversation with the concert hall's manager. He finds a large closet to which he says he has the only key. Tim gets this key and secures it to his key ring.

  "After we come back here this evening, I'll return your key to you," he promises the manager. We store the instruments and Tim makes sure the closet is securely locked.

  Before we return to the concert hall, Marcus finds a response to the claims he has filed for the damaged instruments.

  "Oy, Tim! Get the blokes in here!" he tells Tim. Five minutes later, we're all sitting in our room, listening to Marcus' news.

  "This is...definitely odd. I didn't expect a response this quickly. I have an email from the airline's baggage manager. Here's what it says:

  'Dear Mr. Hadley,

  I am very sorry for your group's instrument losses. Yours is not the only claim we have received. I am going out on a limb telling you this, but we expect many more.

  Your drum set and guitars, along with other checked baggage, were intentionally damaged by an employee who has since been fired. This employee felt he had a grievance against the airline and, rather than taking his issues through proper grievance channels, chose to act out his anger on our valued passengers.

  We will be reimbursing your band for the full worth of your instruments. All we will need, once you have landed in England, is faxed copies of purchase receipts and, if you have this information, any depreciated amounts. Again, we will be reimbursing you for the loss of your musical instruments, as it was clearly the fault of our former airline employee.'"

  "Wow!" I say. "What do they mean by 'full worth and depreciated amounts?'?"

  "We'll be reimbursed for the full current value of our instruments. Given that they are only two years old, we will be receiving nearly the full purchase value, reliant on the current exchange rate," estimates Tim.

  "Will that replace what you had to spend today?"

  "I don't know. Marcus, can you figure out today's exchange rate? I'd like to put this in our records for tax purposes," says Tim.

  "So, depending on today's exchange rate and the exchange rate for the date the airline receives your faxed receipts and depreciation paperwork, you could get less...or more?" I press.

  "It's entirely possible, Johanna. I just want to make sure that Nigel and the band's business manager have all the information they need so we don't have to take a loss - if at all possible."

  I collapse onto the bed.

  "Wow. Deliberate damage. Tim, I'm glad you locked the instruments up," I say.

  Linny speaks up. "You know, I do have a question about the U.S. law on something like this. We'd probably have to wait to get back home to find an answer. But, if we get damages from the airline, could we still go after the individual who did this? You know, to sort of teach him a lesson."

  Tim's eyebrows knit together as he thinks. "Marcus, will you Google Spokane barristers - attorneys, I think they call them - and ask that question? That's a good one, Linny! Thanks!"

  While we rest, Marcus finds the right kind of attorney and calls the office to speak to the assistant. When he hangs up, he sorts through his notes and grabs my hand.

  "Let's go to Tim's room. Knock on Linny's door and I'll raise Laslow. This is some sort of complex stuff!"

  In Tim's room, we discuss what Marcus learned.

  "There are a lot of variables in our situation. How much we're going to be reimbursed depends on the exchange rates. I suggest you lot hang onto your damaged instruments - more shipment costs - and take photos of them, because we can at least attempt to take this individual to court in what's known as 'Small Claims court' here in the United States. That court is limited to awarding damage amounts that are less than $5,000 total. Of course, the employee couldn't have done the damage while we were in the air. Tim, if need be - actually, if you find it's worth filing a lawsuit against this chap - one of us could fly back here to appear in court to see what, if anything, we'd be awarded. It would probably be the difference between what the airline reimburses us for and the actual worth of the instruments."

  "Let me see your receipts from today," Tim says. He totals them up. "God! Five thousand dollars? At today's rates, our damaged instruments would be worth..."
Tim opens up his phone and begins working quickly on calculations. "Maybe three thousand. Eh. I need to think about this because we'd still take a loss. Tell you what. We'll talk to the business manager and see what he recommends. At least the airline admits it was their fault - well, their employee's fault - and they say that we'll be reimbursed. That's a bit of something, at least. Marcus, I'm glad we had you along, not just for this. You've been invaluable, helping us out. Back to tonight's concert. I'm afraid we'll have to re-tune our new instruments, so we'd better be at the hall forty-five minutes earlier than usual."

  Despite all the day's difficulties, our final concert in the U.S. is a wild success. We tuned up after retrieving our instruments from the closet. We feel that we must end our tour on a high note; so, accordingly, everything we play and sing is perfect. Our audience is very appreciative as we smile and take our bows. As my eyes sweep over the crowd, I get a stray thought - what if the guy who damaged the drums and guitars is in our audience? Would he even make a connection between the items he damaged and our band? I mean, Tim, Laslow and Linny's names are on the luggage tags. In addition to that, we painted our band's name on the instrument cases as an extra layer of protection. So, it's not inconceivable.

  After the final curtain on our U.S. tour goes down, I ask the guys this question.

  "Ohhh, Johanna, I truly don't want to know if that idiot is out there!" says Linny. "I'm not usually a violent man, but I'd want to do him an equivalent amount of damage."

  "Oy, Linny! You're definitely not violent! Still, I do agree - knowing that bloke is out there isn't a wonderful thought." I sit in the green room, where we're all gathered. "Marcus, are we going to ship the instruments back home?" I ask him.

  "It's probably best to do so," he says thoughtfully. "We can insure them for their full value and, given that they're only a day old, we would be better-served that way. I did check around. The shipping companies here can take them and we'd have them in five days, tops. Hopefully undamaged."

  "Do it." Tim speaks decisively. "It's bad enough that Nigel and the business manager will have to figure out exchange rates for two sets of instruments, even as we're working out whether it's worth coming back here to file and appear for a small claims lawsuit."

  "Right. I went on Google Maps and found some nearby shippers - UPS and FedEx. We can take our instruments there and pack them in boxes and that bubble wrapping - a lot of bubble wrapping - then have them sent to England by the fastest route available."

  "Excellent. We don't have to be at the airport until ten a.m. for a one p.m. flight, so we'll just leave the hotel extra-early. Let's plan on meeting the shuttle at, say, eight-thirty. We'll eat before we go and buy loads of snacks. If you bought any souvenirs here, we'll need to declare them before we land in London."

  'If' we bought souvenirs? I bought a whole new suitcase just so I could store everything! I keep the receipts handy in my carry-on luggage so I can declare everything correctly.

  Back in our hotel room, Marcus and I make slow, lazy love. He's worried about hurting me or the baby, so wild sex is out for the duration. Hey, as long as I can still make love with him, I'm fine with that! I doze off and sleep very well. In the morning, Marcus arouses me with a gentle shake of my shoulder.

  "Hey. It's time for us to get up. We need to get to the shipping company," he murmurs in my ear.

  I stretch luxuriously in bed next to Marcus. I smile...I get to spend every night with him, now! My murky brown eyes gaze right into his emerald-green ones. I sit up and push my messy brown hair back. Ever since I got pregnant, it seems to have grown! When we get home, I am setting an appointment with my hair dresser, because it's so out of control! For now, I untangle it and style it in a French braid. I choose one of my new maternity outfits and slip into this comfy outfit. At least, now on the flight back home, I won't be worrying about a too-tight waistband that hurts or makes me have to be sick. I check to make sure that I haven't forgotten anything - iPod, e-reader, crochet, toiletries - and load everything into my bags.

  Marcus won't let me carry anything. The most I'm allowed to carry is my carry-on bag and my purse, which I'll stash into my carry-on before we take off. He rolls his suitcase and mine down the hall. We meet up with the rest of the band and go downstairs as a group so that we can meet the driver. As we board the mini-van, Tim asks the driver to take us to the UPS station.

  "We need to ship our instruments back."

  "Those cases are new," says the driver.

  "Not only the cases - the instruments. A disgruntled airline employee took it upon himself to destroy our instruments and the luggage of other passengers when we left Eugene the other day. When we found the damage out, we filed a claim with the airline, and they realized the extent of the damage. We felt it to be more prudent to ship our instruments back to England, given what happened," Tim says.

  "Damn!" says the dumbfounded driver. "Not that the airline employee knows who you are, that he'd even try this - shit! Bet he doesn't work for that airline anymore."

  "No, he doesn't," Tim says. "I'm sorry he's out of a job in this economy, but he should have figured out a better way to let his employer know of his unhappiness."

  "Yep. Sucks, doesn't it? Hey, keep every receipt, just in case you decide to sue the loser."

  "Yes, we are."

  Ten minutes later, we pile out of the mini-van and carry in the bulky instruments and sound equipment. After talking to the UPS manager, we decide on the best way to ship the instruments back and we pay for the shipping fees. We are promised delivery within seven days. Thankfully, we have replacement instruments back in England that we can use to practice.

  At the restaurant, we decide to eat a healthy breakfast. I'll be requesting some snacks on board so that I can keep my stomach from going empty. Unfortunately, post 9/11, we can't take our own snacks - or even water - aboard. I shall be keeping those poor flight attendants very busy. After we eat, our driver takes us to the airport. Once our baggage has been checked, I shuffle through my carry-on for my e-reader. We have three hours before we board, and I want to read. Yes, it's in there. We go through X-ray and customs, and then take seats in the International terminal. Here's where I pull my e-reader out. All of us have come with activities to keep us busy - music, Sudoku puzzles, books, e-readers and, in my case, crochet. If I finish my current project, there's no cutting the yarn on the plane. I'll have to stop at that point and just wait to weave off the ends until I get home.

  On board, Marcus and I sit together. He bends his head near mine and brings up a topic I'd been wondering about - moving in before we get married or waiting. My father's pretty traditional, so I let Marcus know that.

  "I'll keep my apartment until the day we marry. Then, I'll stop my lease," I tell him.

  Chapter 8

  Our flight is uneventful - until we hit turbulence in the North Atlantic. It's late summer, but this part of the world is still buffeted by cold winds. The unpredictable motions of the plane wreak havoc on my tummy. Before long, I am retching into a sick bag. The flight attendant brings a wet washcloth to Marcus for me then fetches hot water and a teabag. I'm sipping carefully on my tea as Marcus goes through my carry-on, looking for the anti-emetic medication. Finding it, he gives it to me with a significant look. I take it, hoping to keep it down. Fortunately, the turbulence smooths out, for now, at least. The medication makes me drowsy and my head slowly slides over until I'm nestled into Marcus's side. I barely feel him taking my e-reader out from under my hand before I fall into deep slumber.

  I wake up when the flight attendants tell us that we are now over England and they instruct us to buckle our seatbelts and raise our trays fully upright. I check Marcus' wristwatch and find that we still have half-an-hour before we land, so I continue to crochet. Finally, I feel the plane beginning to lose altitude and I tuck my crochet away. Fifteen minutes later, we touch down on British land again. After our plane has taxied to the terminal, we remove our carry-ons from the luggage bins and get ready to leave t
he plane. I apologize to the flight attendants for my illness over the North Atlantic.

  "Oh, miss, it's no problem! You've got a little one in the oven, so it's to be expected," says the tiny British flight attendant. "I just hope you're feeling more normal again."

  "Much better, yes. But after a night in my own bed, I'll be even better," I tell her.

  In the terminal, we go to the baggage claim area and find our bags, thankfully, all in one piece.

  "Hey, now, we get to drive on the correct side of the road!" Laslow jokes.

  We all laugh. This was one of the hardest things for us to get used to - traffic driving down the right side of the road. I kept wanting to tell our drivers that we should be driving down the left side of the roads we were on, but eventually, that urge went away.

  Finally, we get home! Marcus gives me a soft kiss, promising to be at my place later that evening. I nod sleepily. Right now, all I want to do is sleep! Once I lock my flat door behind me, I leave my luggage in my living room and make a beeline for my bedroom. Covering up - its cold - I fall asleep immediately. Several hours later, I wake up to hear my phone ringing.

  "Hello?"

  "Johanna? It's your mum. How are you?"

  I nearly slip and tell her that I'm pregnant. Biting back that response, I tell her, "Napping. It was an intense tour, mum."

  "Are you coming over?"

  I have to finesse this one. They don't know that I'm expecting a baby, much less that I'm already wearing maternity clothing.

  "Actually, I am very tired. I need to wash and get my bearings now that I'm back home. I'll call and let you know when I'm alert - besides, Tim's going to want to have a meeting with the band, if not a full practice," I tell her.

  "Okay, darling, just give us a ring and we'll get something for dinner," she promises. After I ring off, I roll over and fall asleep again. I don't wake again until about ten minutes before Marcus calls me. I really needed that sleep! I feel much better - stronger, even. However, I do need to think about how I'm going to break my big news to mum, dad and my siblings.