Rock and a Hard Place

chapter 10

That night they cruised down the highway toward Rockvile in a sporty jeep. “Nice wheels,” Libby ran her fingertips over the butter soft leather seat.

“It’s a rental.” Peter grinned.

He pushed his hair to the side unaware of how great he looked. He held the steering wheel casualy, the seatbelt snug across his narrow hips. Damn he was gorgeous, and he was only driving.

“If you’re hoping to keep a low profile, I don’t think this is the best way.” The flashy red jeep would stand out in smal town Rockvile. The country roads led to the heart of historic downtown.

“I couldn’t resist. I can park in a dark aley, if you want,” Peter said.

“I’m not worried about me, I just figured you wanted to keep things quiet.”

“Fans expect to see Jamieson as a group, not one of us out alone wandering middle America. Plus, I brought a hat.” Libby shifted comfortably in her seat. Tonight was just them, flying under the radar. She managed to avoid Aunt Marge this afternoon. With any luck, the woman would be strung out and oblivious to Libby’s whereabouts. If not, wel, Libby didn’t care anymore. She’d turn seventeen in a few months and that was practicaly eighteen.

“Turn right at the stop sign, that’s Fourth Street. It takes you straight to Main.” Her breath caught in her throat at the thought of driving into the heart of town with Peter Jamieson. She felt the need to pinch herself.

They drove down the quiet neighborhood streets lined with giant oaks. Old Victorian homes stood witness as they passed. A bend in the street led them over an old stone bridge and the Rock River.

“This place is amazing. It’s like stepping back in time.”

“It is pretty.” Libby absorbed it with fresh eyes. She always thought of Rockvile as a purgatory she’d been forced to endure, not a quaint little town. They drove past the town square, where a pavilion graced the center and stone benches scattered the tree filed park. Fal leaves coated everything.

“It looks like a cool hang out place. Do you spend much time here?”

“Nope, never been,” she answered without regret. “It’s too far from my aunt’s house, almost five miles. I ride the bus to school and don’t have my license, let alone a car to drive.” She stopped asking permission to get her license months ago. Aunt Marge said it would only lead to bad behavior. Libby didn’t care about getting her license. She worried driving might be a constant reminder of the accident. The pungent smel of gasoline at the crash stil haunted her.

However her tolerance of Aunt Marge’s bizarre rules wore thin.

Since the issue with her Dad’s letter, she cared far less what her aunt said or thought.

“That’s why I hang out at Parfrey’s Glen. Anywhere else is too far.”

Peter reached over and held her hand, which amazed her every time. It was as if he could transfer al his love, strength and confidence to her.

After a turn onto Main Street and past a handful of shops, the lights of Ed’s Burger Joint appeared.

“That must be it.” Peter approached the old-fashioned drive up. A handful of cars occupied spots, each with food trays attached to their windows.

“Yep.” Libby nodded.

“This is going to be fun.” Peter puled into the lot and parked farthest from the restaurant and the bulk of the other cars.

After checking out the menu, Peter placed their order through a little metal box with a crackly speaker.

“Get cheese curds too,” Libby added.

Peter gave her a crooked look. “It’s a Wisconsin thing, right?”

“Oh yeah.”

They sat in the Jeep and talked about everything and nothing at al, oblivious to the other cars. When the food arrived, the twenty-something waitress looked twice at Peter, but said nothing.

As she walked away, she glanced back at him and then Libby, obviously weighing the likelihood of the recognized face belonging to the real Peter Jamieson.

“People don’t expect to see me, so they don’t.” Peter was here to see Libby and she wanted everyone in town to know it, but she didn’t want to share him either. She coveted their every moment.

Together they stuffed themselves with good ole greasy food until Libby thought she’d burst. She couldn’t remember the last time she ate out.

“So you aren’t one of those girls who barely eats on a date?”

“Why wouldn’t I eat?” She sucked the last of her chocolate malt from the bottom of the glass, creating a holow suction sound with her straw.

Peter laughed. “I don’t know, I guess some girls don’t want guys to see them in their natural habitat.”

Libby stirred the straw around the glass, scooting the last bits of malt together. “I love food.” She handed the empty glass back for him to place on the tray.

“Where to next?” Peter asked.

“First, the waitress needs to come get the tray off the side of the door. Otherwise, I guarantee you wil be noticed driving down the street with a food tray hanging on your window.”

“Oh yeah, guess I missed that little detail.” His brief look of embarrassment warmed her heart. The world traveler, Peter Jamieson, didn’t know how to do a drive-up restaurant. “Start the car or turn your lights on. She’l come.” Peter started the Jeep; the powerful engine hummed. Within a couple minutes the waitress returned for their tray. As she lifted it from the window, she eyed Peter again.

“You wouldn’t happen to be . . .”

“Nope.” Peter interrupted, then flashed her his famous smile as he put the Jeep in reverse.

The waitress stepped out of the way. Libby saw her glance down at the tray and see the twenty-dolar tip. She looked up at him, her face more confused than ever. Peter backed up and then puled onto Main Street.

“So which direction is the Trivoli?”

“We’re going to a movie?” Libby hadn’t seen a movie in ages.

“Of course, it wouldn’t be a proper date if we didn’t have dinner and a movie.”

Libby couldn’t have asked for a more perfect night. She directed him further down Main. They had a half hour before the show started, so Peter parked and they wandered along the river.

“So how did you convince your parents to let you come?” She looped her arm around his.

“I held them at gun point,” he said with a straight face.

“No realy?” She poked him in the arm.

“It wasn’t hard at al . . . considering it’s my eighteenth birthday.”

Libby stopped. “It’s your birthday? When?” She faced him and blocked his path.

“Today.”

“You jerk, you didn’t tel me.” She grabbed the front of his leather jacket and tried to give him a good shake; he laughed at her.

“What was I supposed to say? It’s my birthday, so you have to be realy nice to me and bake me a cake?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what you were supposed to say,” she brooded. “I would have gotten you a present.” How, she didn’t know. It would have been worth cleaning the school lunch room again.

“Spending time with you is al the present I need.” He put his arm around her and puled her close.

His words blew her away. Today was his special day and he came al this way to celebrate with her. “Wel you need a birthday present. Eighteen is a big deal. When I turn eighteen, the world is going to know.”

“My life is filed with over the top, I wanted something meaningful.”

Libby gazed into his gorgeous eyes then reached and brought his face down to her. She kissed him sweetly on the mouth. It felt like her birthday today, not his. She reached behind her neck and unhooked her necklace.

“I know this isn’t much, but it’s one of my favorite things. If it isn’t too dorky or weird, I’d like you to have it.” She held the pendant out for him to see. It was one of her most prized possessions.

He touched the onyx carving, strung on a leather string, his eyes connected with hers. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she stated. “It’s an ancient symbol. It represents trust.”

“It’s awesome. Very rock and rol.” He rubbed his thumb over the smooth stone.

“You think?” Libby nibbled at her lip. She wanted him to love it as much as she did.

“Yeah.” He touched the tip of her nose with his. “Where’d you get it?”

“My mom gave it to me after a trip she and my dad took.” She liked how the leather cord lay against Peter’s skin.

Peter sighed, his tone serious. “Oh Libby, are you sure?” His eyes searched hers. “It’s too important.”

“If you don’t want it, that’s okay, but if you do, I’d love for you to have it. I don’t think it’s very girlie, I think it was actualy meant for a guy, but Mom and I thought it was cool.”

“Yes, I want it.” He closed his hand over hers. “And it isn’t girlie at al. I wondered why you always wore it.” Libby squeezed his hand, glad to share this connection. It solidified everything in her heart and proved Peter’s goodness. Her mom would have liked him a lot.

“Help me.” Peter leaned close.

She placed the thin leather cord around his neck and attached the clasp, then stood back. Satisfied, she nodded. “I like it.” Her neck felt bare without it, but on Peter the pendant looked perfect, as if created for him alone.

Peter touched the carving against his skin. “Me too.” He leaned down and kissed her, sending little thrils through her body.

They left the river behind and meandered down Main Street, his arm slung over her shoulder, and her head rested against him.

“The town is so quiet. Where is everybody on a Friday night?”

“At the footbal game. The town practicaly shuts down for Friday night footbal.”

“Would you rather go to the game?”

“Gosh no, and hang around those idiots? No way. Plus, you don’t have to worry about getting recognized. Everyone under the age of forty is at the game.”

“What makes them idiots?”

“They’ve just always treated me horrible. I wasn’t born and raised here, so that made me an immediate outsider. And my aunt is a total whack job, so that doesn’t help. They know about my family.” She stopped talking for a minute. Peter looked down at her, his face sincere. “They don’t know the details, just that Mom died and Dad left me here.”

Talking about her family hurt. She missed them so much. Her throat tightened.

“Hey, you’re not alone any more. Okay?” He stopped, his eyes focused on hers.

“Okay.” They began walking again. Peter put his around her and held her close.

“Anyway, the people in this town are so smal-minded, especialy at school. Anyone different is an outcast. I’m so over it.” She slid her arm around his waist and hooked her thumb in the edge of his back pocket. It felt nice to belong again.



# # #

After the movie, Peter drove them back toward the stifling farmette. His gut ached thinking of leaving Libby with her pot-smoking aunt.

“Are you sure you’re okay there?”

“It’s fine. I’m used to it.” She sighed.

“Wel I’ve been thinking . . .”

“That’s dangerous.” Her voice chimed.

He reached across and squeezed her leg. “Would you be quiet, this is serious.”

“Yes sir,” she giggled.

“Actualy there are two things.” He returned his hand to the steering wheel. “First, I think its time we get you out of here.” There, he’d said it.

“What are you talking about?” She sat upright and stared at him through the dark.

“It’s terrible for you here. You have no ties to anything except your psycho aunt. She sounds like bad news, and honestly, I’m surprised your dad would leave you with her.” Libby sat silent and contemplated his words. He knew they struck close to home.

“I’m sorry, that was cruel. I’m sure your Dad did what he thought best.” Peter couldn’t imagine how a father could leave his own daughter. If he ever lost Libby, he’d go insane.

“It’s okay, I know what you mean. He wasn’t in his right mind.”

“Grief is a powerful thing and you’ve both lost a lot. Listen, I’m eighteen now and I want you to come be with me. You’d be safer.”

He’d said it. Finaly. Peter could picture how much fun they’d have together and how happy Libby would be away from Rockvile. He hoped she agreed.

She sat wide-eyed. She opened her mouth to speak and then stopped. He could almost see the wheels turning in her mind.

“I would love to escape this town and be together 24/7, but how would we do that? Where would I live? Would I go on tour with you?” Libby asked the same questions that roled around his mind.

“I haven’t got it figured out, but I’m working on it.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to run away with you, but somehow I don’t think your family would be too keen about some strange girl showing up. What about school? And what about my dad? He’s coming back.”

Peter wanted to say that if he hadn’t come back in the past year, it wasn’t likely he’d return any time soon, but he kept it to himself.

“I know, it’s a lot to think about, you’re in a bad situation surrounded by people who don’t care about you, but I care, and I want you with me.” He reached for her hand and held it firmly. “I’ve got al kinds of money, it should be good for something. Maybe it can help get you outta here.”

“That’s the nicest thing any one has ever said to me.” She sounded hopeful. “You say the word and I’m outta here. I’m so happy I could cry, but I’ve already done enough of that for one day.”

“Good, I don’t think I could take any more tears. When you live in a house with four guys, crying doesn’t exist. Garrett beat that out of me when I was three.”

“So what was the other thing you wanted to tel me about?” Peter couldn’t wait to lay this one on her. “I think we should go to your Homecoming dance.” He watched for her reaction.

Libby stared at him, her mouth agape. “You’re nuts. You just agreed I have nothing here and now you want to go to the Rockvile Homecoming?”

“Why not go? I never got the chance to go to a school dance and it’s something everyone should do once. It would be normal. I never get to be normal, and think how surprised everyone wil be to see you with me.”

“Aren’t we a little ful of ourselves?” she said. “Actualy they would be shocked to see me with a date at al. Heck they’d be shocked to see me out after five o’clock.”

“Then it’s a date.” He wanted Libby by his side. He wanted to show the world his beautiful girlfriend.

“I think you’re crazy. How do you know you can even make it? What if you have a concert or something?”

“If I have a concert, then obviously it won’t work. I guess we’l have to crash some other school’s dance. Get the date and we’l figure it out from there.”

“I’l have to deal with the crazy aunt issue. I’m not sure how tonight is going to go over. I might be locked in the castle tower for the next month.”

“Then I’l come rescue you.” And he would. Anywhere.

Anytime.

“Sweet.”

Peter drove past the entry to the preserve.

“Where are you going? You need to drop me off.”

“I’m not dropping you off in the woods late at night. I assume your aunt’s place is up ahead.”

“Yeah, but don’t go there. Drop me off at the corner, I don’t want her to see you.”

“No.” He turned on to the side road that led to the old farm house and slowly puled into the gravel driveway, then faced Libby.

“This was the best night of my life you know,” she said.

“Me too.” He grinned. Their date far outshined any concert he ever played. They leaned together, he put his hand behind her neck, held her gently and kissed her goodnight.

Libby’s door whipped open, light flooded the Jeep. A crazed woman, who must be her aunt, glared at them. The whites of her eyes stood out next to her yelowing teeth. Libby cringed and leaned away.

“Where’ve you been?” She shrieked.