Capricorn Season - Jimmy Page

Chapter 14

"Hello!" I was bubbly, the wash of morning gone. The sun had awoken me from my peaceful slumber by trickling around the drawn curtains. I hadn't been outside yet, but I figured it was still chilly. 

"Hello, love. What time is it there?" 

His voice was soft and smooth, like warm water down your throat. 

"Only nine A.M. What about for you?"

"It is 11. We've just had breakfast, and now I'm calling. I wanted to hear the sound of your sweet voice to wake me."

"You're far too kind," I giggled and picked at the edge of my white sock. 

"Love, I miss you so." He sighed. His cheery tone dropped and his voice was flat. 

"I miss you as well. It is so lonely here without the sounds of your guitar and laughter."

"I feel that my heart has died without you. I can't believe how I feel. Every night I just lay in my bed, missing the feeling of you in my arms. This has never happened to me before, I've never felt this way. I fear that I am losing you, the distance between us too great."

"I know, I feel the same way. But you know you're not losing me. This is so- this is so odd, you know that, right?"

"What is?"

"The way we are. I mean, it was like one day we were just- I feel so silly saying this. But it's like one day we were just married. We met all of sudden and now I'm looking after your home, receiving your calls of despair like you're some down-trodden soldier looking for comfort." 

I laughed as I wandered around the kitchen, moving as far as the chord would allow me. The room was messy, with dishes stacked in the sink and snacks left out on the counter. I felt bad for my lack of cleaning skills and was a little glad he wasn't here to see his house in a state of disarray. I didn't even want to think about what he would say if he saw the living room! 

"I know that this is all a bit sudden and inane. But it feels right, doesn't it?"

"I suppose it does. But I can't help feeling that it's all a dream. I always think I'm going to wake tomorrow, back in my apartment, and wonder who you really are."

"Every day is a production of sanity, Guinevere. We are only sane if we believe we are. And I don't know if we've ever been. Why pretend the feeling is not there when it is? Even when we are apart I can feel the beating of your heart, the warmth of your hands on mine."

We finished our phone conversation shortly after his omission of feeling. There was a light in my chest, a calling of love. I worried about this and fought to push it down. Surely he tells every girl this. My eyes traced feminine figures up and down the stairs, in the kitchen, lying on the couch. I wonder how many women he'd conned into looking after him and his house. But that was the dark, the anxious part of my brain. It was the primal part. The center where my abandonment issues lingered, creeping out only to destroy things that I held dear. The whole of my mind was settled on the truth. And the truth was, he wanted me to stay at his house, offered for Lucy to join, and called me each day. The ringing was clockwork, a mysterious and unpunctual thing, but recurring nonetheless. When I heard the phone I was happy, knowing it was him. Sometimes I'd have an awkward conversation with a friend of his, occasionally having to turn away those looking to do business with him. I would pen their information and pass it along to Jimmy. But when I heard the operator, "distance call from Mr. Page", I was delighted. I wasn't into the business of lying to myself, and I couldn't deny how happy he made me. That was what frightened me the most, I suppose. He made me feel something, awakened that cold and slumbering organ in my chest.