A Different Kind of Forever - By Dee Ernst Page 0,17
been looking down as he spoke, his hands folded over the curve of the guitar. He suddenly lifted his eyes and his smile went out across the audience. “I had forgotten. Diane with the sexy tattoo reminded me. I want to thank her for that. So this song is for the Carlucci girls, who are responsible for so many of the good things in my life.”
He began to play ‘And I Love Her.’ Diane felt a rush of tears to her eyes, and she clamped her hand to her mouth. Michael’s voice was deeper than Paul McCartney’s had been, and he sang the words slower, not to a lover, but with gratitude and a touch of sadness. The guitar had a different touch, but still exquisite. When he was done he quietly said good night, and the stage went black, and a deafening roar went to the ceiling and Diane sat dumb, tears streaming down her cheeks.
The house lights went on suddenly, and Diane blinked against the brightness. She wiped tears off her face and turned to look at Sue.
Her friend shook her head. “Oh. My.God. You have just become a piece of NinetySeven history. The Web is going to be on fire with this.”
Diane looked past Sue to Megan further down the row. She was talking excitedly with Becca and Joann. Then Diane turned her head toward Emily. Her other daughter was staring at her.
People were beginning to move. She felt a tug on her sleeve. Megan was reaching over.
“Mom, are we going backstage?”
“Yes. Wait for the guy. Yes, we’ll go.” Her breathing was returning to normal. She fingered the pass around her neck. In minutes, the arena had become chaotic. She was being pushed, jostled. They waited ten, fifteen minutes. She saw the security guard waving to her. She and Sue herded the girls together, and they followed him as he shouldered effortlessly through the crowds. They went around to the side of the stage, then through a series of doors, until they were in a long corridor. There were people everywhere, all with passes dangling from their necks. They turned a corner, and there was Michael.
He was leaning against the wall, his head tilted back as he drank from a large bottle of water, a white towel draped across one shoulder. A man was standing beside him, talking intently. Michael pulled the water bottle away from his face and the water spilled over his face and neck. The man was still talking, but Michael was shaking his head, turning away from him. He caught sight of Diane. He smiled and wiped his face with the towel.
“Hey.” His body seemed drained, his face white and pinched. “You all have fun?”
Diane took a deep breath, smiled and put her arm around Emily. “These are my daughters, Emily and Megan.” Megan crowded against her mother’s side
“Hello. I’m Michael,” he said easily. They immediately started talking. They gushed about the show, the music. They introduced their friends. Sue Griffen stood quietly, watching her friend. Diane’s eyes never left Michael. He did not look at her, just concentrated on the young girls, flirting just a little. He could really work a crowd, Sue thought. It also seemed to her that he was very aware of Diane, and when he finally turned to her, their eyes met and Sue could feel a jolt. Holy shit, she thought to herself.
“Come on back.” His voice was very light. “There are a bunch of people here, lots of food.” He reached toward Diane, his hand catching her arm, sliding up to her shoulder. Sue pursed her lips. Michael moved his hand to the small of Diane’s back, and they walked into a noisy, crowded room, people everywhere, and the smell of food. The girls bunched together, and Sue moved them toward a long table set against a back wall, laden with platters and steam trays.
Diane felt his hand on her back. She half turned toward him and rested her hand lightly against his chest.
“You look exhausted,” she said softly. “Are you sure you want us here?”
His eyes focused on her sharply. “Yes, I want you here. What did you think of the show?” His eyes were very close and serious. His hand left her back, and he was running his fingers lightly down the back of her arm. Diane’s hand went to the collar of his shirt, and she brushed her fingers across the smooth V of skin at his neck.