All Summer Long

Part Two -- August
Page Two

      (August 11) "Okay, what was *with* you two last night?" Daniela hissed as Mari photocopied sheet music at Wesson's Drugstore. "Actually, what's been wrong with you two for the past few weeks?"
      "I don't know what you're talking about."
      "The snapping, the bossing, the glaring. As far back as the studio session. Don't think we don't notice. Chris and Davy are guys, so they're just going to ignore it, but I, dammit, am going to make a big deal out of this."
      "Daniela, lower your voice, please." Mari glanced around the pharmacy, sure that someone was listening in. "We can discuss this later."
      "You keep putting me off, but I know something is wrong."
      "Nothing is wrong, okay? At least, nothing I can't fix. By myself," she added emphatically, when Dani looked to add another two cents to the conversation. "All married people have problems. We just have a lot of them because we're so young. But we'll deal, okay?"
      "Riiiight... Meanwhile, you're writing songs about escape, and he's getting even more melancholy and depressed than usual--"
      "What the hell are you talking about? Someone who goes out every stinking night of the week *cannot* be depressed. The one that stays home gets depressed." Mari snapped her mouth shut in surprise, realizing she'd just said way too much.
      "I knew there was something stupid behind this," Dani muttered.
      "Well, thank you so much for validating my feelings," Mari snorted. She snatched up her copies and headed for the register. "I'll be sure to support you when you have problems. Although I suppose people like you never have problems."
      "People like me? Just what is that supposed to mean? Hey! Get back here." Dani stalked after her sister.
      "Thanks," Mari smiled as she took her change. She led Dani out to the car. They were on a very short break from rehearsal and needed to get back to their new rented rehearsal space as quickly as possible. Time, in this case literally, was money. And money was in short supply, even with the new flow of cash from the Sphere Archipelago EP sales.
      "So," Dani pressed as they sped off, "Blaine's been out a lot lately?"
      "It's not that he's out more than usual," Mari sighed, giving up on keeping Dani out of it. "It's that he's out with that awful cousin of his-- Matt-- and the frat boys. And I don't even mind the frat boys, so much as the frat girls. And the other people that are with them sometimes. Dani, they smoke. I can smell it on him. And he says he doesn't, but the second-hand smoke has just got to be bad for his lungs. And mine, third-hand."
      "Ah. Now I understand," Dani said. "Yes, I see now."
      "You see nothing. You hear nothing. And you definitely do not say a damn thing, have you got that?"
      Dani blinked. "Oh, sure. Absolutely. Problems? What problems?"
      "Thank you."

***

      (August 18) Mari sighed and rolled over. Three AM and Blaine was still out with that horrid cousin, Matt. And those other guys who-- ugh-- *smoked*. Blaine would ruin his voice if he kept hanging out with them.
      She sat up to stare at the new Matisse print on the opposite wall. What the hell had happened to them? They'd barely been married two months, and already they were growing apart. If Blaine wasn't out till all hours or grumbling about classes, they were arguing about the artistic direction of the band, or the apartment, or what to have for dinner. She'd gotten so busy trying to make him happy, she hadn't seen her friends in ages. She'd forgotten about her own happiness.
      She'd turned into her mother.
      The realization made her shiver. Well, no more of that silliness. Tomorrow-- uhm, today, that was, after sunrise-- she would start anew. She would focus on herself. To hell with Blaine, anyway. He was just a man.
      Heck, he was just a boy. A boy who didn't deserve the greatest years of her life. Didn't deserve the sexy body that had emerged through her illness after being booted out of the Wizardship program, when she could barely eat for months. The hard, toned muscles from surfing. And especially her intelligence, her wit, her musical talent. Her passion. He didn't deserve any of her splendiferous self.
      If he wanted her, he'd damn well have to *work* for her from now on!
      Mind settled, Mari flopped back down on the pillows and closed her eyes.
      When Blaine crept in at dawn, exhausted and guilty, he barely noticed the new set of his young wife's jaw as she slept.

***

      (August 22) "I tell you, Mare's gotten weird," Blaine confided to Davy as they waited for Mari, Daniela, and Chris to return from picking up lunch.
      "She was always weird," Davy pointed out.
      "But it's not in the same way," Blaine insisted. "When we first met, it was her independent spirit that attracted me. After we got married, she got kind of devoted to me, but she still had all kinds of projects going on-- the band, the party for Brian Wilson, redecorating the apartment. She had her friends. Then out of nowhere, she got psychotic-- practically coddling me."
      "Coddling?"
      "Babying. And I almost got used to it, or at least managed to avoid it by going to school and work, and hanging out with the guys. But I think all that time, she just gave up her friends and projects and waited for me to come home. And now... she's back to independent."
      "So?"
      "It's ultra-independence. Like we're not even married. Davy, when she went out with Lynette and Dream last night, she left her wedding band on the bathroom sink."
      "She probably just forgot about it," Davy shrugged. "Took it off for her shower or something."
      "In two months, she never once took that ring off. Not for a shower, not to clean the toilets."
      "So she's relaxing. I think you ought to relax, too, bro. She's probably just gotten confident that you're not going to abandon her to that guy she was contracted to."
      "You think?"
      "Not often, it hurts my head," Davy cracked.
      Blaine punched his brother in the arm. "Yeah, I bet."
      "Hey, don't I need that arm to play drums with?"
      "The way you play? Nah," Mari joked as she walked in, with a bag of grinders (a special kind of hero sandwich found only in Connecticut, Rhode Island, and Layla:) ) tucked into the crook of her arm. Daniela followed with a bag of chips, and Chris trailed behind with a couple two-liters of soda. "Lunch, gentlemen, is served."
      There was a flurry of activity as grinders were handed out and drinks were poured, then everyone settled into their meal.
      "So, I wrote another song last night," Mari said around a mouthful of genoa salami. "That makes three good songs so far."
      "We don't know this one is good yet," Dani said.
      Mari glared. "I will take away your harmony part."
      "Okay, it's another good song!"
      "It's called 'First Impressions', and it probably won't take long for you guys to learn. Here, I'll give you the sheets to study while we eat." Mari reached into her bag and produced a sheaf of papers. "There's all of six chords in it, pretty predictable. It's the vocal harmonies that are important. Daniela."
      "Like I said, good song," Dani nodded.
      As soon as the grinders were finished and the grease wiped from fingers to napkins, Mari strapped on Blaine's bass.
      Blaine was left wondering precisely what she intended for him to play. She glanced at a tambourine, then smiled sweetly.
      "Dani actually learned her part this morning, so we'll just run through, and you guys follow along."
      Dani took another sip of orange soda, readjusted her microphone, and nodded her readiness.
      As the sisters sang and played, Blaine was hard-pressed to find anything wrong with the song. It was technically proficient, the lyrics were precise and even beautiful... and he'd never heard Mari sing with such barely constrained *rage*. He shivered. Something had gone seriously wrong in their relationship.

***

      (August 25) Mari hummed through her teeth. She sat in the middle of the big bed in the 'lei' room, surrounded by clothes that needed mending, bank statements that needed filing, and miscellaneous piles of stuff that needed sorting. Just general household-running stuff, nothing too challenging. But she found it exceptionally difficult to concentrate when there was a rip-roaring party going on in the living room.
      Blaine had invited a bunch of his frat brothers over, including his ever-annoying cousin Matt who Mari still refused to speak to since their first meeting last February. Supposedly, they were just going to watch Layla:) U's soccer team's away game, broadcast on cable live from Atlantis. Then someone went out for beer.
      At that point, Mari had meaningfully glared at Blaine, who didn't understand, then had sequestered herself in the bedroom with all the things she'd been procrastinating about. But instead of doing all that menial work, she was listening to drunken co-eds (since girls from L.U. has shown up an hour ago) shouting at each other over loud music. And she was fuming.
      Glancing at the clock, she saw it was much too late to call any of her friends, or her sister. She needed to vent, though, or she might go out there and kill someone. Probably Blaine. And she was really too young to be a widow, never mind too young to start serving a life sentence for murder.
      She hummed tunelessly again, thinking. "Well," she thought as her eyes alit on the window, "there's always the fire escape."
      Making sure the bedroom door was securely locked, so none of the lovely college people could destroy at least *that* part of her house, Mari pushed open the window and dropeed onto the creaky old fire escape. From there it was down to the ground and the still night air of Layla:).
      Unfortunately, the air behind her building was also rather fetid, seeing as it was trapped by a narrow alley filled with dumpsters and who knew what kind of wildlife. Accordingly, Mari dashed around the corner of the downstairs neighbors' apartment to the common parking area.
      Only to find that her car was entirely blocked in by the vehicles of Blaine's frat buddies and their girlfriends. How infuriating.
      Before she could start smashing windows and slashing tires, Mari forced herself to walk. She didn't really pay attention to where she was going (and it didn't matter, since she knew Layla:) like she knew mental blocks), so it was a bit of a surprise when she stopped an hour later and found herself at the edges of the "It Is Not A UFO" Swamp.
      The Swamp was just south and east of the Airfield, a narrow swath of packed dirt that served as runway for the occasional small plane in or out of Layla:). There was a control center (not even a tower), and no terminal. Near the swamp were six parking spaces in a graveled lot. The swamp itself was protected wetlands. Mar had never actually been down here, herself, but Dream occasionally went birding in the area. She always returned excited over some rare swamp bird, and bitten up by mosquitoes. Mari always joked that Dream was going to get malaria someday.
      Tonight, the swamp wasn't much to joke about.
      Sure, the sky was clear and starry, the moon bright if not more than half full. The oppressive heat of August had disappeared, leaving only the most vaguely uncomfortable warmth. The salt of the marshes filled the air. The birds were silent, their airspace taken up by mosquito-eating bats. But, as comfortable as Mari was with bats and other night animals, the swamp was still a bit of a bummer.
      She couldn't quite pin down what was bothering her about the swamp... something more than what had been bothering her tonight in the first place. The feeling of being watched.
      Cautiously, Mari eased down a mental block and extended her psychic radius. She searched the area for an aura other than her own. Yes, there was definitely someone there. She turned and stared into the darkness, putting her mental blocks back up as she did. It wouldn't do to be caught out at such a vulnerable time.
      Slowly, a shape emerged in the darkness. Human. Stocky. Finally, male. And familiar, sort of.
      "Who are you?" Mari asked distrustfully. Heck, would you trust a shadowy figure following you around in the middle of the night? In a swamp? On the outskirts of town?
      "I'm sorry if I'm bothering you. I'm Justinian," he said.
      "Hmm."
      "I'm your biggest fan!"
      Oh, well, that explained everything. A stalker. Mari sighed. "That's very nice for you, but I need alone-time tonight."
      "It's dangerous out here at night," Justinian informed her helpfully.
      "I can defend myself, thanks."
      "But--"
      "Would you like an autograph?"
      "Already have one."
      "Then why, pray tell, are you following me?"
      Justinian thought about that for a while. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You looked bummed."
      "I am bummed. But like I said, I need to be alone to think."
      "Do you need anything?"
      "I need to be alone." Good lord, this guy was persistent. "I don't want to be mean, but I really seriously just want to be by myself. That's why Ieft my house. How old are you, anyway?"
      The abrupt change of topic threw Justinian off. It took him a moment to answer. "I'm fifteen."
      "My sister's age. Shouldn't you have a curfew?"
      "Nope."
      "How about the good sense to go inside after dark?"
      "Nope. How about you?"
      Definitely not your average stalker. This one was impertinent. "I'm a married woman. I can do whatever I want."
      "But you're still a minor in the eyes of the law."
      "And you're still here, even though I keep saying I want to be alone."
      Justinian just stood there. Apparently, nothing was going to sway him from his decided course. Whatever that happened to be.
      "Okay. What would make you happy?"
      "Your happiness."
      "And failing that?" Mari asked drily.
      "Huh?"
      "If you don't think I need to be alone, what *do* you think I need?"
      "How about a milkshake?"
      Mari sighed. Better than standing out here getting eaten by mosquitoes, she supposed. "At the Reveille Diner?"
      "Only place open this late," Justinian agreed.
      So they walked the ten miles to the diner in Foret des Reves (Mari was sure she'd be wicked sore in the morning, but what else to do without a car?), and Mari had her milkshake, and Justinian was assured that only he would be bothering Mari that night.
      Shortly before dawn, Mari climbed back up her fire escape and through the window. The apartment was silent. She unlocked the bedroom door, peeked out into the living room.
      Blaine was curled up on the futon, the television glowing blue with a test pattern. There was no trace of the party. When he couldn't get into the bedroom, he'd assumed Mari had fallen asleep with the door locked. Unable to simply fall asleep, he'd then decided to clean up his friends' mess.
      She felt a little twinge in her stomach, looking at the slight frown on his face as he slept. He looked almost innocent, she thought. But she'd already made up her mind, and nothing was going to change what she'd decided that night. She went back into the bedroom, to catch a few hours' sleep before true morning. She locked the door again.

***

      (August 26) Mari woke up, showered, dressed. The living room and kitchen were deserted. Blaine had left for school hours ago. Mari had definitely overslept, but last night had been a very long night.
      She had a quick breakfast, but couldn't eat much because of the smell of beer in the kitchen. Blaine had left all the empty cans by the door. In a garbage bag, yes, but not rinsed out. It reeked.
      She went back to the living room and opened the Venetian blinds. She straightened the few magazines and books on the coffee table, fluffed the futon, wiped up a spill Blaine had missed in his clean-up last night.
      She went to the bedroom and took out a large suitcase that had traveled with her from her parents' house. She took all of her clothes out of the closet and the dresser and put them neatly into the suitcase. She put her guitar-- the one she'd just bought, so she could write songs without borrowing Blaine's guitar-- next to the suitcase, by the bedroom door.
      She made the bed, dusted the nightstands. She did all the filing and sorting she had meant to do last night.
      By the time that was done, it was nearly four, but still a few hours till Blaine would be home from school. Mari decided she was still tired after her late night, so she locked up the bedroom door again and lay down for a nap.
      She woke again when she heard Blaine trying to open the bedroom door. She waited until he gave up, then stood up, brushed out her hair, and walked to the door.
      When she opened the door, Blaine was already sprawled on the futon, watching TV. He glanced up as she stood in the doorway.
      "Something needs to change," she said.

***