armrest and tried to imagine that she could really accept whatever fate would dish out. And if, by some miracle, she walked off that airplane unscathed into the salty Maine air, she wasn't quite sure whom she'd thank, but she knew that something deep inside her would appreciate life. Yessir – appreciate it deeply and fully, because you never knew what you were going to get.
Two
The cabin practically came unglued when the commuter jet landed at the Portland Jetport. Applause and cheers, as though the hometown ball team had just taken the World Series. She felt a grateful welling up of emotion, a moistening of her eyes, and found herself clapping and smiling too. It wasn't even in her nature to make public displays of emotion. But something deep inside her knew that their arrival hadn't been certain – fortune had smiled her own sweet smile, and now they were back on the ground. Sweet mother-of-Jesus earth.
She passed by the woman who had been holding the toddler as she deplaned. She exchanged a quick glance with the woman. The air around the woman's seat smelled like urine ( the poor kid had wet himself), but the woman's eyes said enjoy every second you have in this life, lady. You never know when it might get yanked out from under you.
Melissa Palmer continued off the plane and headed to the rental car counter. She hadn't bothered checking a bag, since the interview was meant to be an in and out kind of thing. She had booked a flight back to New York the next day.
Please don't let the world-renowned lyricist Liam Sims be a drugged out egomaniacal prick. I can't deal with someone like that right now. Just let him be normal. Please let him be normal. And please let there be a bathtub at my hotel room tonight. I really need to soak in a tub.
Three
She drove up the rocky coast from Portland, and just after Old Powerhouse Road she saw the sign for Falls Landing road, just like Liam had written in his email reply after she'd sent him a note asking for the interview.
She had found his directions amusing, in a backwoodsy kind of way – It's easy to miss, so don't drive up the road faster than about thirty or you'll have to make a u-turn. And Maine cops don't like out of state folks who make u-turns, so make sure you turn in the parking lot of Town Landing Market if you do miss it. Fourth house on the left down Falls Landing, white with green shutters.
She put on her blinker and made the turn ( see, I didn't miss it, did I?). It still struck her as odd that a world-famous rock star who had made his name tearing apart clubs in the Pacific Northwest with the force of his music would be here, two decades later, in a modest house overlooking the sea far from –
well, far from everything. That was odd.
She parked along the curb, pulling up on her emergency brake with two hands because, shit, this was a steep hill that led straight to the water. She'd taken the full damage protection on the rental car (magazine policy – interviews with rock stars were known to sometimes have unforeseen effects on hotel rooms and cars), but still, she didn't think she'd be able to look her editor in the eye and explain, 'I went inside to interview him, and when I came back outside the car was ass up in six feet of salt water two hundred yards away.' No, that wouldn't do.
Time to get this business over with. The sooner I get done with this, the sooner I can find myself a glass of wine and relax chest deep in some warm water.
She walked up to the plain red door of his house and knocked, then flattened out a crease in her skirt as she waited for the door to open.
Four
She heard footsteps from inside and he opened the door for her. His hair was just like in the pictures she'd seen, still hanging down to just above his shoulders, with a few light streaks of grey. His brown eyes seemed deep, and you'd never know it if you saw him in concert, but up close he had beautiful, long
Two
The cabin practically came unglued when the commuter jet landed at the Portland Jetport. Applause and cheers, as though the hometown ball team had just taken the World Series. She felt a grateful welling up of emotion, a moistening of her eyes, and found herself clapping and smiling too. It wasn't even in her nature to make public displays of emotion. But something deep inside her knew that their arrival hadn't been certain – fortune had smiled her own sweet smile, and now they were back on the ground. Sweet mother-of-Jesus earth.
She passed by the woman who had been holding the toddler as she deplaned. She exchanged a quick glance with the woman. The air around the woman's seat smelled like urine ( the poor kid had wet himself), but the woman's eyes said enjoy every second you have in this life, lady. You never know when it might get yanked out from under you.
Melissa Palmer continued off the plane and headed to the rental car counter. She hadn't bothered checking a bag, since the interview was meant to be an in and out kind of thing. She had booked a flight back to New York the next day.
Please don't let the world-renowned lyricist Liam Sims be a drugged out egomaniacal prick. I can't deal with someone like that right now. Just let him be normal. Please let him be normal. And please let there be a bathtub at my hotel room tonight. I really need to soak in a tub.
Three
She drove up the rocky coast from Portland, and just after Old Powerhouse Road she saw the sign for Falls Landing road, just like Liam had written in his email reply after she'd sent him a note asking for the interview.
She had found his directions amusing, in a backwoodsy kind of way – It's easy to miss, so don't drive up the road faster than about thirty or you'll have to make a u-turn. And Maine cops don't like out of state folks who make u-turns, so make sure you turn in the parking lot of Town Landing Market if you do miss it. Fourth house on the left down Falls Landing, white with green shutters.
She put on her blinker and made the turn ( see, I didn't miss it, did I?). It still struck her as odd that a world-famous rock star who had made his name tearing apart clubs in the Pacific Northwest with the force of his music would be here, two decades later, in a modest house overlooking the sea far from –
well, far from everything. That was odd.
She parked along the curb, pulling up on her emergency brake with two hands because, shit, this was a steep hill that led straight to the water. She'd taken the full damage protection on the rental car (magazine policy – interviews with rock stars were known to sometimes have unforeseen effects on hotel rooms and cars), but still, she didn't think she'd be able to look her editor in the eye and explain, 'I went inside to interview him, and when I came back outside the car was ass up in six feet of salt water two hundred yards away.' No, that wouldn't do.
Time to get this business over with. The sooner I get done with this, the sooner I can find myself a glass of wine and relax chest deep in some warm water.
She walked up to the plain red door of his house and knocked, then flattened out a crease in her skirt as she waited for the door to open.
Four
She heard footsteps from inside and he opened the door for her. His hair was just like in the pictures she'd seen, still hanging down to just above his shoulders, with a few light streaks of grey. His brown eyes seemed deep, and you'd never know it if you saw him in concert, but up close he had beautiful, long
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