Summer Love Box Set

Drowning in Neptune’s Pool-5

I couldn’t really describe what I was feeling, though it was likely jealousy. There was nothing between Landry and me except music and a growing friendship. Anything else was probably in my imagination. So he flirted with me. Well, he was a friendly guy. And that guy at his place? I knew nothing about it, and it wasn’t my place to ask, was it?

When I got to work on Tuesday morning, a scowl had taken up residence on my face.

“Who pissed in your oatmeal this morning?” Pete asked as he gathered his supplies for his first job of the day.

“Nothing for you to worry about,” I grumbled.

“Ooh, touchy,” he replied as he headed for the door. “Is it the musician dude Corey told me about?”

“Can no one keep his mouth shut in this establishment?” I groused, sitting at my desk and sorting through paperwork.

“Hey, I sleep with the guy. What do you expect?” He shrugged and left.

As I reviewed my schedule, my cell phone buzzed. I had an idea who it was, but I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to respond. I decided not to check it.

By noon, I had ten texts from Landry. I sat and read them all. He apologized for the night before and wanted to know if I could come over tonight to practice. I didn’t think I could handle it.

I texted back, Sorry, no can do. See you Friday.

There were no more messages after that. I dealt with the amorous client again by mostly ignoring him. He finally got the hint and went away.

Friday night, I had myself firmly under control when I got to the roof. I greeted the musicians, ignored Landry’s pointed stare and sat to one side to tune my banjo. There was already a sizeable crowd, with drinks and snacks procured from somewhere.

Landry counted us off, and I did my part. The music was good, as always, but the circus feel to the whole thing turned me off. It wasn’t what I’d expected when I’d started this thing with the fiddler.

We played for hours. When it was over, our group got thunderous applause, and people begged for more. I left after the third encore, having had my fill.

Saturday mid-morning, as I was sorting my laundry in the living room before heading downstairs to use the washing machine, I heard a knock on my door. Curious, I went to open it. Landry was standing there. Surprised, I stepped back to let him in.

“Hey, Landry,” I said. “What’s up?” I went back to separating the whites from the colors in piles.

“You should have stayed last night. It was fun, man. And guess what! Some guy from the committee for a new bluegrass festival was there with a friend, and he wants us to play as the lead act. Isn’t that great?”

Definitely something I wasn’t interested in. I pushed the whites into one bag. “That’s real good, Landry, but you’ll need to find another banjo player.”

“What? Why?” he asked.

I looked up at his confused expression. He didn’t understand.

“When we started this thing, it was just the two of us hanging out, playing some tunes. I enjoyed that, you know? We play really well together. But now it’s turning into this big thing. Frankly, I’m just not feeling that vibe anymore.” I grabbed my bags and a small box of soap and walked to the door. “It’s too much.” I opened the door and waited for him to step outside before I locked it behind me.

“I…I didn’t realize this was so…I’m sorry, Jimmy. I thought we had something good, too.” He stared at me. “This isn’t because we didn’t get together, is it?”

I was stunned. “Really? That’s where your mind goes? No, Landry. It’s not. It would have been nice, sure. You’re a great looking guy and easy to be with. But I still would have stopped playing with you because it’s over the top, okay? It’s not what I was looking for.”

“That guy the other night, we have this off-and-on thing. It’s nothing serious, not really,” he said.

“And that’s fine. Your life is just way too complicated for me, Landry. I wish you luck.” I walked away from him, feeling his gaze on my back as I headed for the stairwell. It was all for the best, I told myself. I hoped I’d actually believe that, and soon.

* * * *

I stopped going up on the roof for a while. I spent most of my time playing my banjo in my room and thinking about Landry. Signs started showing up around town for the bluegrass festival. It would be in mid-July.

The bands listed were known to me, and the headliner, Flannery’s Revival was obviously Landry’s group. I wished them well. Landry texted me from time to time to see if I wanted to come over and hang out, but I always declined.

Knowing him, there’d be lots of other people there, and that wasn’t where my mind was, at all. Work became busier because it was summer, and people wanted their pools presentable for parties and sunbathing. I went home tired and dispirited most days, but at least I could pay the bills.

I went to the bluegrass festival when the day arrived. It was super-crowded that Saturday, and I was happy for the promoters that they’d at least get some of their money back.

Flannery’s Revival wouldn’t be on stage until later in the evening, but I wanted to catch some of the other bands, too. I grabbed a beer and bopped my head to Mama’s Strawhut, a cool mix of hillbilly funk that was pretty damn good.

The other bands that followed were kickass, too. And then finally, it was time for Landry’s group. My heart skipped a beat as he took the stage. There were now eight people, including himself, in the band.

I shook my head and smiled. That was just Landry. He drew people to him effortlessly. There was no way I could compete, had I wanted to. The group started with a rousing rendition of the theme song from the Beverly Hillbillies. The banjo players were spectacular, better than me, in fact, which was saying something since I’d been playing since I was knee high to a gnat.

Landry was beautiful up there, completely in his element. It was where he shone, and he couldn’t hide how gifted he was. How could any mere human compete with that? I knew I certainly couldn’t.

The band’s final number was the Charlie Daniels song we’d played together when we’d met. The crowd went wild. Flannery’s Revival got shouts for encores for minutes on end. Hell, I was shouting, too. They gave us two songs, and then it was over.

* * * *

I spent my last hour at the festival wandering the grounds, checking out the handcrafted items and the food. Around eleven o’clock that night, I figured it was time for me to go home.

I’d only had one beer and that was a long time ago, so I was okay to drive. As I checked my pockets for keys, a body bumped into me from behind. I turned to see who it was and recognized Landry. He was pretty wasted.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said as he stumbled back from me. “Didn’t mean to bump intho…into you.” He walked a little bit further then tripped over his own feet and fell on his ass.

Damn it.

“f**k, Landry. Where’s your car?”

The look he gave me from where he sat on the ground was just pitiful.

“Fine, I’ll figure it out myself.” I helped him up. “What color is your car?”

His speech was even more slurred when he replied, “Ith’s r-red. A pickup trush…truck.”

“Okay.” I managed to get us to the parking area, and I placed him on a bench where he promptly fell over on his side.

Christ.

I yanked him up and shook him a little. “Focus, Landry. Where are your keys?”

“Jeans pr-pocket.”

He almost slid down again until I finally held him against my chest with one hand and searched his pockets with the other. I found them and then left Landry listing to the side as I searched the field for his truck. At least the number of vehicles had diminished drastically, and, thankfully, there was only one red pickup truck to be found.

I unlocked the door and quickly started the engine so I could go pick up Landry. By the time I arrived, he was on his side again and snoring.

Great.

Landry’s gear was in the truck, so I didn’t have to worry about tracking that down, too. Since he was fast asleep, his body was deadweight as I dragged him into the passenger seat. After propping him up against the door and securing the seatbelt around him, I took us home.