Rock and a Hard Place

chapter 6

Libby’s worn out shoes padded through the discount store.

She wanted to go unnoticed, but the bright store lights shone down revealing her presence. Guilt hung on her shoulders like a heavy chain.

She found the entertainment section filed with electronics, video games and DVDs. She searched one aisle and then another.

Nothing. Panic crept over her. She had little time to return to school and catch her bus.

“Can I help you?” A middle-aged man with a big bely held a scanning device in his hand and waited for her response.

“Uh, yes.” She whispered, then cleared her throat and spoke louder. “I was wondering where you keep the CDs?” Desperation began to sink in. She needed the CD. It had to be here. She had to have it.

“Down this aisle on the end.” He walked that direction, assuming she’d folow. She trailed after him. Did he wonder why a high school kid was in the store during the middle of the afternoon?

He turned the corner. “Country and show tunes are on this side, rock and jazz on the other, new releases are on the aisle end.

Is there anything particular you’re looking for?” He waited. She didn’t want to confess her purpose for being there. It might expose her true feelings, someone might overhear.

She glanced around, but found no audience. The man folowed her gaze. He raised his brows in question.

“Jamieson?” she answered, quieter than she meant to.

“Their display is on the end, you can’t miss it.” To Libby’s relief, he turned and went the opposite direction.

Libby tried not to rush as she moved to the aisle end. There stood a six-foot-tal cutout photo of a smiling Peter, Garrett and Adam, advertising their latest CD. Libby stood back in awe. Her hand reached out and touched the glossy cardboard imitation of Peter. It was almost as good as the real thing. The huge display dominated space next to a wal of Jamieson CDs. Copy after copy featured Peter Jamieson smiling back at her.

Never in her wildest thoughts did she imagine he was so famous. He gave none of it away when they’d been together. She wanted to scream with joy. She picked up a plastic encased CD, his handsome face exactly as she remembered. She grinned back at him then cradled the coveted CD. The risk of cutting classes and coming al this way was worth whatever punishment Aunt Marge might dish out.

When Libby checked out, her hands shook as she passed the stolen bils to the checker. She walked out of the store and looked both directions to be sure no one watched. She darted around the side of the store, and puled her prize from the bag. She ripped the packaging off as quickly as she could with her stil shaking hands.

Then the clear tape wouldn’t let her by. She picked at it, then used a nail file to lift the edge. Finaly, she won the battle. Inside the case lay a perfect, untouched CD, and a glossy booklet containing lyrics and more pictures of Peter and his brothers.

Her heart sang. She kissed the CD cover then hugged it. Her eyes watered with giddy excitement. It belonged to her! After a couple minutes of idol worship, she reluctantly tucked it back in the bag and into her smal pack. She rushed back to school afraid she would miss the afternoon bus home or get caught in the act of walking up to school as everyone else left.

Later back at Aunt Marge’s, Libby snuck up to her room.

She placed a chair against the door in case her aunt came up. The rest of the afternoon and that night she poured over the glossy booklet cover to cover, while listening to the CD through oversized headphones she’d dug out of a box in the hal closet. She recognized Peter’s amazing voice in every song and stil couldn’t believe she’d spent a sunny afternoon talking to him just days before. Late in the night Libby drifted off with the glorious sound of Peter’s voice luling her to sleep. There were no bad dreams that night.



# # #

“Dad, come on. It’s not even out of the way.” Peter continued to push. He refused to back down. Garrett and Adam watched, eager to see who won the power struggle.

Why couldn’t anything in his life be private?

“We’re already behind schedule. We’ve got production meetings on the video shoot for tomorrow, you boys have interviews and wardrobe fittings, plus I’ve got some tour issues to iron out.”

Dad could be immovable at times. He wanted life to be neat and tidy like his pleated Dockers and shoes with tassels.

“Just because this isn’t important to you, doesn’t mean it isn’t important to me,” Peter said. “I gave my word. That should be worth something.” He stood his ground, waiting for the response he wanted. The only way to get through to his dad was to out-logic him.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to start letting girls influence your life. You’ve got plenty of girls chasing after you on tour.

What’s so different about this one?”

“That’s the point; she is different. She’s not like al the other screaming fools. She’s interesting and fun, and she doesn’t care about al the band stuff. She never even heard of Jamieson before I told her.” Libby’s friendship was like a special secret no one else knew about. No publicist or paparazzi to spoil it. No outside interference could get to them when they were at Parfrey’s Glen.

Just two people hanging out.

“I thought everyone on the planet knew us,” Adam piped in from the couch, as he clicked through the camera’s stored photos.

Peter turned and fixed his little brother with a stare.

“Peter, it’s pouring rain out there. If this girl has any sense, she won’t be standing in this deluge waiting for you, and if she is, wel that’s another issue,” his dad said.

Peter turned to his mother. “Mom, please, ya gotta help me out here.”

“You know, Jett,” his mother’s voice held that soothing, ‘I’m gonna get my way’ tone. “We’ve always encouraged the boys to have lives outside of their music. This is another chance for that.”

“I was talking about playing soccer, not chasing girls.”

“If it’s so important to him, why not let him spend some time with this girl? He’s seventeen. If I recal correctly, you spent a lot of time with girls at that age.”

Peter’s eyes darted from one parent to the other as if watching a tennis match. He didn’t dare say a word to distract them.

“Wel.” His dad wavered.

Peter held his breath. His mom was good. She knew how to handle the man.

“What could it hurt? We’l fit everything in. We always do,” she added.

“Alright, but no more than an hour. I’m not sitting around in the rain waiting for Romeo here.”

“We’l go grab a quick lunch while Peter checks to see if . . .” she turned to Peter, “What is her name?”

“Libby.”

“Yes, that’s right, Libby. Wel grab lunch while Peter checks to see if Libby is there.”

His father grunted his assent.

“Thank you.” Peter mouthed to his mom.

She responded with a smile and a pat on his arm.

“Score,” he said under his breath, pumping his fist.