Chapter Six
Nothing meant more than music and dance,
Not even True Love’s kiss,
Selfish, perhaps, but this was his chance,
And he refused to miss.
Lyrics from the folk song “Crossroads Coyote”
Johnny heard Clementine’s laughter when he walked through the front door. She hadn’t laughed in their house for a long time. He didn’t realize that he’d missed the sound, until he heard it again.
She was in a good mood. That must mean that she wasn’t holding a grudge about him transitioning her out of the band. Not that he’d been worried, of course. Clementine adored him! He’d known she’d come around.
More laughter from the direction of Clementine’s room.
Johnny’s own mouth curved in response, as he headed towards her. He had plans with Rosalee, but he had a few minutes to spare. Maybe Clem could fix him dinner. Why not? It would make Clementine happy, and she made great chicken and dumplings.
Johnny liked to take care of his body. He owed it to the public to look his best. But he could make an exception on healthy eating for Clem’s chicken and dumplings. It would be like old times, where they ate her food and discussed his music until all hours of the…
“Bill, stop!” Clem got out between more gales of laughter. “Put it down. It was silly enough hearing it the first time.”
Johnny stopped smiling. Bill? She was in there with Bill? What the hell was going on? Righteous outrage filled him, as he slammed into Clementine’s room. He shoved the door open so hard that it went careening into the sod wall.
Clementine’s laughter turned into a yelp of surprise. She was standing by her bookcase and her head snapped around. Green eyes widened, like he was the last person in the world she expected to see. “Good Lord, Johnny.” She flattened a palm over her chest. “Can’t you knock?”
His gaze was fixed on Pecos Bill. The coyote was sitting on Clementine’s bed, as if he had a perfect right to be sitting on her bed . The dirty bastard looked completely out of place, luxuriating amid Clem’s mismatched, multicolored pillows. Johnny and Clementine’s high school yearbook was lying open on his lap, where he’d apparently been reading aloud from the long list of class superlatives.
Was that what Clem had found so funny? That was a little insulting, considering Johnny had won “Most Talented.” The award had been totally deserved. Everybody knew it.
Ice-blue eyes glinted. “Howdy, Johnny.” Bill didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed that he’d been caught barging into places he didn’t belong.
“What are you doing in Clem’s bedroom?” Johnny demanded. Clementine never had men in her bedroom.
“Bill’s helping me pack.” Instead of sounding grateful for Johnny’s protection, Clementine seemed annoyed. “What are you…?”
Johnny cut her off. “Pack? Why are you packing?” He glanced around, noticing for the first time that cardboard boxes were piled up around the room. “What’s going on?”
Clementine gave a helpless sort of shrug. “I’m broke.”
His brow furrowed, because honestly…? He hadn’t considered her financial circumstances before. Why should he? Artists didn’t worry about the day-to-day mundane shit. They focused on the bigger picture.
“Do we have to talk about money? It diminishes my creativity, when you reduce life to cash amounts. I’ve told you that.”
“I know you have, Johnny. But you have to understand that I can’t pay my half of the rent, if I don’t have money to pay my half of the rent.”
“Well, whose fault is that? You should get better at budgeting, Clem. Seriously, muses can be so ditzy sometimes.”
Clementine winced, probably knowing he was right.
“Hey,” Bill held up the yearbook to the page with Johnny’s senior picture, “how come you never mentioned your real name is ‘John Jacob Jingleheimer-Schmidt’?” There was a lot of frozen wrath in his usually impassive expression. “Why, that’s got a real catchy rhythm to it. I just wanna keep on saying it, now. To everyone .”
“I only go by my stage name.” How could Clementine have allowed this outsider to peer into the embarrassing parts of his history? It was a violation of his privacy!
Clementine ignored the angry glare he slanted her way, focused on herself. “Johnny, it’s not a matter of budgeting. Affording my medical care is a huge challenge, so I don’t have much extra to save for emergencies.”
Johnny waved aside her attempt to deflect. She was always talking about her health issues, like that excused her general flightiness. He couldn’t keep carrying her forever. “Well, I’m sure you’ll think of something.”
Bill closed the yearbook with an annoyed snap of its covers. “She has thought of something.” He said in a flat tone. “She’s gonna move.”
“You’re not going to move.” Johnny scoffed, his eyes on Clementine. “We’ve lived together for years. You and I chose this house because it was so spacious and modern and perfect for us. You love it here!”
Clementine had marred the purity of the sod architecture’s lines with silly knickknacks and frilly pillows, but she surely saw the quality of the place. Fashionable neighborhood. Great yard for parties. Plenty of space for Johnny’s instruments. It was the ideal house for the number one, up-and-comer in Red River Valley. Everybody knew it.
Clem sighed and rubbed at her forehead. She did that whenever they argued, right before she gave in. Clementine didn’t like conflict. Now, she’d apologize, and tell him she’d figure it out, and she’d stop this nonsense. He crossed his arms over his chest, ready to forgive her.
“Is this the only room where you keep your stuff, Clem?” Bill asked, lazily getting to his feet. He tossed the yearbook into a box labeled “Photos & Memories.” Clementine had written the words, because there was a looping, scribbled flower dotting the i. Disregarding Johnny, Bill started taping the cardboard flaps shut, as if Clementine really was going to move away. “We might hafta get more boxes.”
Clementine blinked. “No, everything I own is right here. Johnny doesn’t like it when I keep my stuff in the common areas.”
“Huh.” Bill said mildly.
Clementine frowned, like she heard a lot in that single syllable. Green eyes flicked back to Johnny, and she no longer seemed on the verge of backing down. “Bill makes a great point. I’ve been paying half the rent here, but only you get to make the decisions about this house. Why is that?”
“Because I’m Johnny Jacobs!” He flattened a hand over his chest, pushed past his usual limits of good humor. “We wouldn’t have any of this, if it wasn’t for me and my hard work. You don’t understand how tough it is to be the one creating the art and not just ‘inspiring’ it.” He added air quotes around the word.
Clementine stared at him.
So did Bill. The coyote’s gaze reflected some inexplicable combination of anger, and revulsion, and glee. Like he was furious that Johnny had said what he said, but also perversely pleased by it.
It was that evil, satisfied delight that clued Johnny into his misstep. Anything that made that asshole happy was sure to be Bad news.
Silence filled the room, for a long moment.
Johnny cleared his throat. He didn’t like the way Clementine kept watching him without saying anything. Her gaze seemed… different, all of a sudden. Like she was looking at a complete stranger.
“Listen Clem, we’re both upset. Let’s just forget this whole thing. What do you say? Put your stuff back and we can have some dinner together. I was thinking you could make chicken and dumplings…”
She interrupted him, her voice more assertive than he’d ever heard it. “I’m moving out. My half of the rent took too much of my paycheck, and now I don’t even have a paycheck.”
Johnny was stunned that she’d spurned his offer of compromise. “You’re trying to make me feel guilty?” Wasn’t that just like a woman to manipulate. “Transitioning you out of the band was just business . Nothing personal. Why can’t you see how this is hard for me, too?”
Bill made a derisive, scoffing sort of sound and began packing up the contents of Clementine’s bottom dresser drawer.
Johnny glowered over at him. “You got something to say to me?”
“Oh, I’ve gotta few thoughts, but I’m somehow refraining. Smarter to just let you do the talkin’, for now.” All Clementine’s long flow-y skirts were heaped into a box. Then, Bill moved up to the next drawer, grabbing stacks of vividly patterned blouses and packing them up, too.
Why didn’t Clem tell him to stop?
“This is insane.” Johnny ran a hand through his shiny, black hair, his attention swinging back to Clementine. “You’re already paid up for September and it’s only the fourth. You have plenty of time to find a job and make the rent for October.”
“I’m moving out.” She said again, stubbornly inflexible. “ Today . I considered waiting until the end of the month, but Bill pointed out that it wouldn’t be fair to you.”
“ Bill pointed out?” He scowled over at the coyote.
Bill gave a shit-eating grin in response. “This side of town’s expensive, John. And all the big stars, who can afford half the rent…? They’re gonna want more space than one bedroom, in a four-bedroom house. I thought you could use some extra time to adjust.”
The idea of looking for a new roommate and rearranging all his stuff sent a shock of horror through Johnny. He didn’t know how to live with anybody but Clem. Everything was perfect, just the way it was. Why was she trying to ruin it?
“So many popular musicians will want to be your roommate.” Clementine assured him, like she saw how upset he was becoming and instinctively wanted to calm him. “And Bill and I came up with a wonderful plan.” She smiled over at the coyote like he’d singlehandedly mapped a path to the Fountain of Youth. “I’m going to move in with him!”
Johnny’s head swiveled back to her in astonishment. “What?”
“She’s going to move in with me.” Bill repeated with a disgusting amount of smugness.
“Bill’s got an extra room.” Clementine said earnestly.
“I’ve got an extra room.” Bill agreed.
“And he swears it’s no trouble.”
“No trouble a’tall.” Bill vowed, brimming with hospitality.
“Isn’t he just the best? ” Clementine was talking to Johnny, but her admiring gaze was on Bill. “He won’t even accept any money, yet. He’s already paid his rent for the rest of the year, if you can imagine. He says it will just confuse all his banking, if I pay him now.”
Johnny gave his head a clearing shake. “Wait, what? ”
“It’s true.” Clementine insisted, like that bullshit somehow made sense. “We’re going to work out a budget, but he doesn’t want to readjust his ‘housing’ deduction or something…?” She trailed off with a baffled shrug. “He says it will mess up his taxes.”
“Who worries about their damn taxes in September? ”
“I’m not a math guy.” Bill chimed in with a mournful sigh. “Clem is really helping me out, by not paying rent and confusing my system.”
“No, you’re helping me out. And from now on, I’ll help you organize your finances. I feel like your system isn’t very efficient.” She held up a palm, as if she didn’t want to offend him. “It’s not your fault. Artists often find taxes difficult. I used to do Johnny’s for him.”
“Used to?” Johnny echoed. “Wait, you don’t expect me to deal with all those forms, right?” What the fuck was happening here? “I’m a singer, not an accountant!”
Clementine tuned out his protest, still focused on reassuring her pet project. “And I’m sure your method works wonderfully for one person, Bill.”
“But now we’re two.” He murmured, his eyes crawling all over her. It was disgusting how the coyote watched her so intently. Like she was prey, and he was starving.
“Yes, now we’re two.” Clementine beamed back at him, a light in her eye that Johnny didn’t like.
“Clem, you have to see that he’s lying!”
Clementine lost her happy expression, her attention flashing back to Johnny. “Lying about what?”
“He did not prepay three months of his rent!”
“Betcha I did.” That damn hidden-smirk was back in the coyote’s eyes and Johnny knew that the son of a bitch had paid the rent. So his lie wouldn’t be a lie, even though it was so clearly a lie.
Pecos Bill could lie with the truth. It was infuriating!
“What is wrong with you, Johnny?” Clem hissed, between just the two of them. As if she genuinely didn’t get it.
He was too mad to bother about his volume. “What’s wrong is that coyote is tricking you!”
“For what possible purpose? So he can be extra generous, just for fun? I’m the one taking advantage here. I’ll set him up a new banking system in January, to ensure he gets his fair share of the back-rent. Until then, though, he’ll be out the cost of…”
“Oh no. We can’t backtrack on this year’s finances next year.” Bill interrupted. “Too confusing. We’ll just put all our resources together, from now on. Keeps the accounts nice and simple.”
Clementine seemed to ponder that idea. “I feel like you’d be losing out on money, if we…”
“This is troll shit!” Johnny interrupted, willing Clem to see the obvious.
Instead, she rolled her eyes over at Bill, in silent communication. Like she was asking him if Johnny’s totally justified accusation had hurt his feelings.
Bill shrugged, signaling his unconcern.
Clementine nodded, pleased with him for taking the high road.
It was just infuriating!
Bill probably owned nothing but that lousy guitar! His entire retirement fund was probably a tin cup for panhandling. He was probably planning to steal all Clementine’s belongings and sell them for cigarettes.
Johnny took a deep breath and pulled out the big guns. “We’ve always been a team, right? Ever since we were kids, it’s been Johnny and Clementine. ”
Bill’s shoulders went rigid. The idea of Clem being connected to anyone else seemed to piss him off.
Excellent.
“We’ve been friends for a long time, Johnny.” Clem agreed. “But we can’t be a team, anymore. I have to think about myself, now.”
Johnny’s jaw sagged open in shock.
Bill’s breath whooshed out. The bastard was so relieved that he looked a little dizzy.
Clementine kept talking to Johnny. “I appreciate you wanting to look out for me. Really. But I’m happy with Bill, and I’m going to move in with him.”
“You’d rather live in some squalid apartment than here with me?!”
“Bill’s apartment isn’t squalid.”
“Of course it is.” No place reputable would rent to coyotes. “I’ve seen that building, Clem. There’s muddy water in the pool and it’s got fifteen shades of clay on the walls.” Adobe architecture was so out of fashion.
“It’s bohemian. Like a haven for artists. His neighbor plays the fiddle, and I think he has real talent.”
Even the coyote side-eyed that claim.
“Bill and I are headed in the same direction.” Clementine went on, filled with confidence. “So, I’m moving in with him, even though I feel guilty about imposing.”
“No imposition.” Bill had never sounded so cheerful. “I’ve been wanting a roommate.”
“Then why don’t you already have one?” Johnny snapped.
“I’ve been wanting the right roommate.” Bill’s gaze glinted. “And now I’ve got her.”
Johnny developed a sinking feeling in his stomach. In that moment, he knew if he let the coyote take Clem away, everything would be ruined. Everything . He made a split-second decision, born of desperation.
“I can cover all of October’s rent here at the house.” He blurted out.
Bill’s jaw tightened.
Clementine’s lips parted. “Really?”
Why did she sound so surprised? What, like he couldn’t be just as nice as Bill? Like he didn’t have way more money and a way kinder nature? It was insulting.
Although honestly, was it Johnny’s fault she hadn’t been pulling her weight in the band? No. But whatever. He’d cover her expenses for a few weeks, if it kept her from moving. He wasn’t going to let the coyote win.
“Yes, really. You can pay me back, once you’ve landed steady work. I mean someone’s gotta hire you, sooner or later.” Johnny forced out a chuckle. “You didn’t think I was going to make you pay rent while you were looking for a job, right? I should’ve told you that before.”
“Yeah, you should’ve.” Bill intoned.
“It was so obvious that I didn’t think I had to mention it.” Johnny snapped back, convincing himself that he’d always meant to make the offer, even as the idea appeared in his head for the first time. “Clem is my oldest friend. Of course, I’ll help her out.”
Clementine’s eyes lost some of their distance. She clearly felt gratitude for his benevolence. That was more like it! “I appreciate the offer, Johnny. Truly.”
“Great! So then we can…”
She cut him off. “But that would only be a temporary fix. This place just isn’t right for me, anymore. It’s my past and I have to go towards the future.”
She glanced around her room. Instead of appearing pleased that Johnny had convinced her to rent such a trendy house --somewhere they could be proud to live-- she seemed relieved to be leaving it behind.
To be leaving Johnny behind.
His flash of fear became burning resentment. Why was she doing this to him? To them? How could she want to move out? Did she even consider the problems this would cause him?
“Is this his influence on you?” He gestured towards the coyote.
This time Bill didn’t bother to look his way. He’d reached the top drawer of the dresser and he seemed mesmerized by Clementine’s underwear. His hands sank into the bits of silk and cotton, his chest expanding on a deep breath.
“Johnny, why can’t you just…?” Clementine gave a sudden squeak of alarm. “Bill!” She scampered over to slam her underwear drawer shut and very nearly guillotined his fingers off in the process.
Bill held up his hands in retreat, pink lingerie tangled around his wrist. He quickly yanked it free, wadding it up in his fist to disguise the provocative shape. Blue eyes flicked Johnny’s way, brooding and annoyed. He didn’t like that Johnny had seen the bra.
Johnny hadn’t actively thought about Clementine’s sexpot-shape since he was about eighteen. He liked his women thinner. Classier. Still, his eyes flicked down to her tawdry breasts, remembering how they’d pressed against his chest when she’d kissed him at their prom. Remembering how soft she’d been.
He frowned.
Clementine grabbed the bra back from Bill. “I can pack this drawer.” She said, stuffing the scrap of pink fabric into a random box. “You just… go work on something else. Anything else.”
Bill seemed to consider the embarrassment on Clem’s face. “I’ll go gather up your tampons, then.” He decided.
“No!”
“That stuffed bear you have hidden under your pillow?”
“Leave Mr. Pandy alone!”
“All your scandalous, secret diaries?”
“I don’t have any scandalous, secret…” She stopped short and laughed. “Stop teasing me!” She swatted his arm, even as her head fell forward to rest against his chest, hiding her red cheeks. “Jerk.” Now, she was amused instead of mortified.
Had the coyote deliberately made her more comfortable? Why would he bother?
Bill’s hands looped around her waist. His mouth curved in a very masculine expression, like he was cat-who-ate-the-canary pleased to have his arms encircling her warm body.
Johnny didn’t like that, either. He didn’t like any of this.
Bill tucked a springy blonde curl behind Clementine’s ear. “How about those pretty little crystal things?” He gestured towards the multicolored sun-catchers on her window. “Want me to get them? I’ll do my best not to break them all.”
“ Yes. Go pack those.” She moved back from him. “I’ll go get some… um… other things.”
Clementine went dashing into the connected bathroom to make sure Bill didn’t go examining her feminine hygiene products. She didn’t glance Johnny’s way, forgetting he was even in the room.
Bill didn’t forget.
Frosty-blue eyes centered on Johnny. “If you want to help out, there’s still some coats in the closet to pack.” His tone had morphed back into mocking challenge.
“This is stupid.” Johnny gave a scoff, because he wasn’t falling for any of the coyote’s very obvious bullshit. “You think anything will come from this little ploy?”
“Ploy?”
“It won’t work, Bill. Other guys have tried to trick Clementine into bed, too. She won’t fall for it. She might be a muse, but she’s not some groupie whore.”
The coyote’s jaw flexed. “Only a total fucking idiot would suggest Clem was anything but perfect.”
“I’m just saying, she doesn’t sleep around.” Johnny heartily approved of her chaste lifestyle. He didn’t like the idea of his sweet little rosebud soiling herself with men. “But she is a little na?ve, so I’m not gonna let you use her to get back at me…”
Bill cut him off. “Clem and me got nothing to do with you. In fact, nothing about Clem has anything to do with you. Not anymore.”
That was impossible. She was the only part of Johnny Jacobs that stretched all the way back to John Jacob Jingleheimer-Schmidt. Back before he outgrew his acne and lost all those extra pounds. Back when his Wolfball-loving family had ridiculed his interest in music. Back when he got bullied every day at school for being different. Back when Clementine’s smile had seemed like a spotlight aimed right at him.
Johnny and Clementine were Johnny and Clementine . She couldn’t just change that. She was throwing some female tantrum. This was all temporary. Everything would be fine.
Johnny swallowed down a weird sensation of panic. “Clem’s just having a moment, because the band is moving to the next level, and she can’t be a part of it. Once she gets over it, she’ll be back here with me.”
This time Bill’s smirk was right out in the open. “We’ll see.” He said without a bit of worry in his tone.
Johnny’s phone rang before he could continue the argument with the arrogant son of a bitch. The sound jolted him from this whole crazy situation.
He recognized the ringtone as the biggest hit from The Yellow Roses’ first album. He’d selected that one for Rosalee. She was the most important person for his career and so her calls deserved the best song. He grabbed for his phone, eager to talk to her about his new album. She got his new, more sophisticated vision for the band.
Bill arched a brow. “Bye, John.”
“Yeah, I’ve got to go.” Johnny muttered. He shook off the feeling that the coyote had just triumphed. That he’d robbed Johnny somehow.
No sense in overreacting. Bill was nothing. A blip!
In fact, Clem moving out was actually good news. Now, Johnny could focus on his music, without having to worry about her fragile feelings. He cared about Clem, of course, but she could be so needy. Clem would miss him too much to stay away for long. She’d soon see he was right about Bill’s cunning wiles. She’d come running back home, with a much better attitude. Everything would return to normal.
In the end, Clementine would always choose Johnny.
Everybody knew it.