Sheet Music - A Rock 'n' Roll Love Story

“I think you already know the answer to that question,” Michael answered, kicking the door open with his boot.  “And I’m not leaving until you tell me what I want to know.”  He handed Gary a cup of black coffee.  “Here, I brought you breakfast,” Michael sneered.

Gary took the coffee and scratched his head.  “Look, I don’t have any information for you,” he said, sitting on the arm of his couch.  “And I already told you that in the message I left.”

“And I have a phone bill with your number all over it that tells me otherwise.”

Gary shifted uneasily on the couch.  A female voice called out to the living room:  “Gary, what’s taking so long?  Come back to bed.”

Michael stood in the hallway facing the bedrooms.  “Sweetheart, roll over and go back to sleep.  Gary’s going to be a while.”  Then his angry eyes narrowed and fell back onto Gary.  “So, start talking.”

“I’ve got nothing to say,” Gary replied, sipping the hot coffee.

Michael walked to the window in the living room and peered down at the street.  “Listen, I don’t think you understand.  I love Annie.  I’d do anything for her.  What you did was wrong and could have seriously jeopardized her health.  Did you bother to consider that?”

Gary stood.  “As a matter of fact I did!  Don’t think for a second that I don’t still care for Annie.  I do and I always will.  We’ve known each other since we were kids, so there’s a lot of history between us.  I’d do anything for her, too, which is why I helped her when she called.  I tried to talk her out of it but she made it crystal clear to me that it was also important to her health that she be as far away from you as possible.”

“And why’s that?” Michael asked, swigging his coffee.

“She said she couldn’t take the lies and the cheating anymore.”

“That’s bullshit!  I’ve never cheated on her - not once, ever!”

“Maybe that’s how you justify it in your world but that’s not how she sees it.”

“Look, I don’t have time for this, just tell me where she is and I’ll be gone.”

A long pause filled the room.

“Truth is,” Gary started.  “I don’t know where she is now.”

“What do you mean?”

Gary shook his head.  “I’m not supposed to tell you.  She made me promise.”

“Oh, and you’ve been so good at holding promises to her,” Michael quickly added.

Gary walked into the kitchen.  “There was a lot more to our marriage than how it ended, Mike.”

“I’m sure.”

“Last I saw her she was boarding a ferry to Martha’s Vineyard.  But that was a few weeks ago, so I don’t know if she’s still there.”

“Martha’s Vineyard?”

“Yes,” Gary said, sitting on a bar stool in the kitchen.  “She asked me to drop her off at the ferry terminal.  She was supposed to call me when she got settled but she never called.”

“Jesus Christ!  And that didn’t worry you?  You never bothered to track her down yourself?”  Michael began to pace.

“I never said that!  I made some calls but they were all dead ends.  You know how independent she thinks she is.”

“And you didn’t think it was important to let me know any of this?”

Gary shook his head.

“You better hope I’m not too late,” Michael spat, setting his empty coffee cup on the kitchen counter top.

“What’s that supposed to mean,” Gary asked.

“You seem to think you know what’s best for Annie, figure it out for yourself!”

Michael slammed the door to the apartment behind him.

From his car, Michael called the caretaker of his Vineyard beach house.  They were the closest neighbors to his house, retired locals, and hired to care for and keep an eye on his property.  For the past decade they had done a fine job.  As agreed to during their brief conversation, his cottage was to be prepared for his arrival and his jeep left waiting for him at the airport.

A few hours later, Michael boarded a private jet in Boston bound for Martha’s Vineyard.  Located seven miles off the coast of Massachusetts, it was an island Michael knew all too well.  It was here that he made his third and finally successful attempt at sobriety.  In fact, he came to love the island so much that he bought a small beach cottage after completing his stay at the rehabilitation clinic.  A year later, and upon the urging of his accountant, he purchased a popular island nightclub, mainly as a tax write-off, but it had been years since he had been back to the island, partly because of his constant touring schedule.  If he wasn’t on the road promoting his band’s latest album, he was in the studio recording it.  It seemed to be an endless cycle that didn’t allow him much time to relax.

The trip from Boston to the Vineyard took mere minutes but it felt like hours.  Michael found his jeep in the airport parking lot and tossed his travel bag into the back seat.  Not knowing the exact on-island location of Annie, Michael decided to stop first at his club.

Lola’s was located halfway between Oak Bluffs town center and Edgartown.  Year round, the club hosted the best in local island musical talent and offered a four-star gourmet menu in the adjoining restaurant.  The décor was a mixture of eccentric and eclectic, giving it a laid back feeling that the clientele seemed to appreciate.  They could eat like millionaires but weren’t expected to dress the part.