Sheet Music - A Rock 'n' Roll Love Story
- Автор: Lister Ann
- Серия: Sheet Music #1
- Год: 2011
- Язык: голландский
- Год: Lulu.com
- ISBN: 9781105173578
- Жанр: Прочая древняя литература
Электронная книга - «Sheet Music - A Rock 'n' Roll Love Story». Краткое содержание книги:
“I had my nurse write all the instructions for pain medication dosages and other information on paper for you. Make sure you give this paperwork to your home care professional and have Michael read through it too. It’s extremely important that you follow the dosage recommendations for the pain meds. It’s very easy to become addicted and dependent on these drugs so be careful not to over do it - and, call if you have any questions. Is that what you’re concerned about?” the doctor asked, as he continued to scribble notes into Annie’s case file.
“No, actually I was wondering about…sex.”
“Sex?” the doctor asked, raising his eyes from the clip board and meeting Annie’s.
“Yes. I was wondering if it would be okay for us to have sex,” Annie blushed and hobbled over to her suitcase to pack the last remaining personal items.
The doctor smiled. “Annie, sex would be fine - within reason. I wouldn’t go attempting anything out of the ordinary. Use your best judgment. If there’s pain, then stop and I would advise against pregnancy at this point. It would put too much stress on your healing body to carry a fetus full term, so take the necessary precautions. Does that answer all your questions?”
“Yes, I guess it does.”
Michael came back into the room pushing an empty wheelchair, his face beaming with happiness. “I’ve come to bust you out of this place,” he joked.
“I’m not riding in that thing,” she protested.
“I’m afraid so,” the doctor said. “It’s hospital policy.”
Defeated, Annie obliged and plunked herself into the wheelchair. “Fine! But, this is the last ride I take in this stupid contraption.”
Michael nodded at the doctor. “I can’t thank you enough,” he said, extending his hand to the doctor to shake.
“No thanks necessary, Michael. It’s my job.”
Michael glanced toward the door and noticed Bull’s bulky body filling the frame.
“Looks like security is here,” Michael smiled. “I guess this means we can leave.”
After a few last minute hugs, Bull led them to the elevator and out to the curb where a limousine waited. A crowd had gathered and Michael wasted no time getting Annie safely into the back seat of the sleek car. Two cameramen snapped photographs and Michael could not have cared less. Happily, he smiled and waved before disappearing behind the privacy of the tinted windows.
“You’re free,” Michael whispered, moving in close for a kiss.
“Thank you for everything,” she replied, her voice cracking with emotion. “You were pivotal in me getting out of that place. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
Michael beamed. “You had more to do with it than you think,” he said, brushing away a few loose strands of hair from her eyes. He slid an arm across her shoulders and pulled her close. Then he took her hand and entwined her fingers with his. Neither spoke. The moment was perfect as it was.
After a brief stop at Annie’s apartment to pick up a few personal items, they began the trek to Michael’s house. An hour later, the limousine pulled around the circular drive in front of Michael’s estate.
“Wow! Your house is gorgeous,” Annie squealed with delight, as her eyes took in the perfectly manicured grounds and Italian marble house façade. Her mouth was still hanging in amazement when Michael picked her up and set her into the wheelchair then pushed her up the ramp toward the front door. Suddenly the solid mahogany door swung open and Michael’s housekeeper greeted Annie.
“Annie, this is Bonita Blasques. She and her husband take care of me and the house.”
“Hello, Miss Annie,” Bonita said in broken English, and extended her hand for Annie to shake. “It is wonderful to finally meet you.”
“Hey, where’s Manny?” Michael asked.
“He went to town to pick up a few things for dinner,” she answered, helping Michael navigate the wheel chair through the doorway.
Annie was now inside the foyer and raw emotion washed over her before she could get it under control. Embarrassed to be seen crying in front of Bonita, she quickly covered her face with her hand.
“This is it,” Michael stated proudly but Annie didn’t respond. Curious about her silence he crouched down before her feet, level with her face. Then he noticed her tears. “What’s up? Are you all right? Are you in pain?”
Annie shook her head weakly.
“Are you two hungry?” Bonita asked, making her way to the kitchen.
“Give us a minute, Bonita. I’ll get back to you on that.” Then he turned to Annie. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she sobbed. “It’s stupid. Really. You don’t want to hear it.”
“Annie, if it bothers you this much then I want to hear it.”
She closed her eyes and sighed. “You have no idea how many times I fantasized about coming here with you. But, not once, did I ever imagine myself getting pushed into your house in a wheelchair.”
“Annie, you’re alive,” he replied seriously, “And that is all I care about. Besides, once you get acclimated with the house layout, you can use your crutches or the cane. I even had an elevator installed so you won’t have to use the stairs.”
“You are unbelievable,” Annie replied and forced a smile onto her tear-stained face. “And this house is too!”
“Would you like to see something other than the foyer?”
Annie nodded.
Michael pushed Annie through the succession of adjoining rooms that made up the first floor. Her face lit up with excitement when he brought her into the family room.
“And I call this the trophy room,” he teased.
“My God, I had no idea Thrust had won so many awards!”
“We got most of them in the last few years. The award committees tend to give more trophies to the dinosaurs in the business. Maybe they figure they better hand them out to bands like us before we croak.”
“Michael! Don’t’ say things like that!”
Annie’s favorite spot was obviously the music room. Her eyes quickly darted around each corner and wall stopping on the most extensive collection of guitars, key board, piano, drum kit, and recording gear imaginable, preserving every detail to memory.
“So, this is where it all happens?” she asked in awe.
“Sometimes. Other times, not. But, for the most part, our ideas tend to gel here.”
“Do you record in this room too?”
“On a rare occasion, we might. But, Brian prefers some of the other studios we’ve used in the past.”
“You could probably write a book on the history that has taken place in this room,” Annie commented.
“Yeah. Historical fights between egos, is more like it.” Michael replied, sitting on the piano bench and pulling her close. “You look tired. Do you want to lie down and rest?”
“I’d like to see the upstairs first and I should probably unpack,” she smiled.
“Sounds like a plan,” he answered, and wheeled her toward the elevator. “I’ve already had the bulk of your things moved into my room, Annie,” he said, as the elevator door closed behind them.
Annie reached up and took his hand. She was too nervous to say anything and gulped hard.
“Would you like to see the spare bedrooms first or would you like to see mine?” he asked, stopping the wheelchair in the upstairs sitting area.
“Yours.”
“Good. The other bedrooms are pretty basic. The guys in the band use them from time to time and that’s about it.”
“Oh, Michael,” Annie gasped, as he pushed her into his room.
“I had most of the house re-done after my divorce - especially this room. I didn’t want any traces of Beth left in here.”