THE CURSE


By KATZMAREK(C)


Chapter Fifteen


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Sabra rolled out of Mick's bed a couple of hours later. She thought it important they didn't get caught by the others in the band. She helped herself to one last kiss before scooting out the door and back to her own bed.


She was feeling sweet and tired - that strange contradiction of feelings that'd marked her illicit escapades before fetching up with Mick. Her mind was energised, but her limbs hung limp with fatigue. She knew she wouldn't sleep, now, so she fetched up on the back balcony and just stared out at the hills.


In truth, she viewed the future with apprehension. Until now, she'd felt superior that her husband had compromised their marriage whereas she hadn't. Now, she didn't even have that moral position to fall back on.


Mick churned her insides in a way no-one had achieved since their tempestuous relationship finished - certainly not her arsehole of a husband. Why was she drawn to such men, she wondered? Always those with talent, the looks and the charisma. With that recipe, she mused, why wouldn't she feel attracted?


Mick had shorn off her years as surely as she'd abandoned her common sense. She'd felt like a teenager, giddy with her first true love experience. Impatiently, she looked at her watch and found the time was only 8.30. She had at least a couple of hours before she had to organise some lunch for the band. She closed her eyes and tried to doze.


Mick woke to the smell of blueberry pancakes and fresh coffee. The bed was in a mess with evidence of sexual activity all about. He staggered out in his boxers to the dining room, grabbed a mug of coffee, before going outside for a cigarette. Standing on the balcony, Sabra appeared beside him.


"What have we done, Mick?" she asked.


"You don't know?" he replied, smiling.


"Don't - don't do that. You always have some smartarse comment to make. I think it's your way of avoiding the truth."


"Ok, Sabra," he shrugged, "we had some great sex." Mick looked around in case anyone else was within earshot, but they were alone. "I've loved you ever since you quit on me. I also love Michelle, even though she prefers Anna. I even love Anna in a way, although she's a dyke. Beyond that, I don't have any answers."


"Ok," she turned around and leaned back against the rail. "We're wired differently, you and I. Guys love to mate, whereas we women mate to love. I think it's always been the sex that was important to you. As much as I love screwing you, it was always your heart that intrigued me. I don't think I ever had that completely, Mick, try as I might. You can be very tender and caring, but the grind of a relationship has always been a little more than you can manage."


"You think?"


"My sense, Mick, and that's not going to satisfy me. I always needed your full attention and the lifestyle always came first for you. I guess I'm saying that it's never going to work so long as The Curse is there to divert you."


"Assuming I ever want to get together with you again, of course?"


"Oh, Mick, you're such a bullshit artist!" she laughed. "You hold a candle for twenty years and you're saying the thought hadn't crossed your mind?"


"I really thought I'd flushed you out of my system," Mick told her. "When you suddenly appeared that day up at the University..."


"Ah, yes, you were tongue tied," she laughed.


"And how!" he agreed. "I can't tell you what a shock that was. It was as if my brain was stood up on its side and all these thoughts shaken loose from their positions. You create disorder out of order and order out of disorder. I've heard your voice for twenty years - right here in my mind. You've tortured me all these years just by not being there. Now you shuck yourself back into my life and you're going to leave it again? What, take off in the middle of the night without a note?"


"Whew, Mick, first you need to forgive me. You want we should troll through the slights and disputes that were never resolved? Face it, Mick, we both fucked up and I had to do what I had to do. But," she turned towards him, "it was never without cost, Mick, never! You need to remember how much I suffered from that decision. You were - and are, the love of my life and I can't see that changing. But how do we stop from burning each other out? I could never figure it."


"Age, I guess," he shrugged.


"Age? You think that makes us smarter?" she laughed. "What did we just do last night?"


"Um - yeah," Mick grinned.


They all ate breakfast on the patio out back. Mick thought Michelle was scrutinising him and Sabra because he'd caught her eyes flicking between them. Perhaps it was no more than his paranoia, he thought?


Karen grinned at her mother strangely and Mick sensed Sabra growing uncomfortable. There was some little interplay going on and there was likely only one cause.


"Is something going on between you two?" asked Michelle, taking the bull by the horns. Beside her, Anna looked puzzled and Karen could barely restrain herself from laughing out loud.


"What?" Mick asked.


"Oh, fucking guilt all over your face!" Michelle continued.


"Guilt? What are you on about?"


"Sabra?" Karen asked, still grinning.


"I fucking knew it!" Michelle burst out.


"Knew what? What's happening?" Anna asked.


"They're sleeping together," Michelle declared. "Sabra and Mick."


"They are?" Anna raised her eyebrows. "How nice!"


"No it's not," Michelle said. "Mick? You owe me an explanation."


"I do? Since when?"


"Oh, like, since we had a child together? Like since all those soppy things you said to me? Like, when you said we hadn't split, but..."


"Michelle?" Sabra interrupted, "don't you think that's just a teeny bit fucking outrageous? You and Anna have been getting it on ever since you arrived and you have the cheek to criticise Mick?"


"Hey! I'm not talking to you!" Michelle raged. "Mick told me all about you. He said..."


"Well, I'm talking to you, sweetheart," Sabra replied. "You had the chance and Mick's been more than understanding. I know that man at least as well as you," she continued as Michelle's fair features darkened, "and if I'd been sleeping with someone else, not more than ten feet away, while that man waited, I'd..."


"Excuse me, but you don't understand..." 


"Well, just tell me what I don't understand, Michelle? You think the fact Anna is a girl doesn't matter? You think that doesn't hurt as much? What fucking planet are you on, sister?"


"Tell her, Mick!" Michelle insisted.


"Tell her what, Michelle? Just what the fuck are we, cos I've never been able to figure it out?"


"There you go, sex again!" Michelle sat back, as if in satisfaction.


"So when did sex become unimportant in a relationship, Michelle?" Sabra asked, "and when does fidelity enter the equation?"


"He wants to own her!" declared Anna. "You cannot own another person!"


"When the fuck did I want to own you, Michelle? Have I tried to impose my will on you?"


"You want a traditional wife," Michelle told him. "I'm sorry I can't give you that."


"So what the fuck are you if you're not a wife to Anna? You can't marry Mick because you're already married. It's as plain as the nose on your face," Sabra said.


"I'm not married to Michelle!" Anna said, outraged. "We are partners, no more!"


"Oh, pull the other one," Sabra told her. "Wake up and smell the coffee. You're a dyke and you're living with your girlfriend. I don't care what you are but don't try and bullshit me like you bullshit all the others. I deal with all kinds of stars and most of them a crazy. Listen, the world doesn't give a fuck. Your hangups are your own."


"Mich? What is she saying?"


"Anna, your English seems pretty good to me. Get out of the closet, declare your sexuality and let everyone else get on with their lives. Really, no-one on either side of the Pacific is going to care."


Anna looked shocked and Michelle took up the slack. "We don't have to do that," she declared. "Whose business is it?"


"No-one's," Sabra told her, "except those close to you, love you, and can't understand why you lie to them. Maybe you can't be honest with yourself? But that dishonesty is hurting people, Michelle, and creating disruption within the band."


"I am normal," Anna said, as if in a dream.


"No-one said you weren't," Sabra assured her, "but, tell me? Why would you suggest sleeping with Mick? You attracted to him?"


"Sure!" she shrugged, "he's a nice man."


"I know he is. The world is populated by nice men. Tell me, you ever slept with a man?"


"I want Mick to be the first."


"Ah! So Michelle is the only lover you've had?" she nodded, uncertainly, "and here she was, going off with a man. You must've felt like shit!"


Mick braced himself. Sabra should have been a psychologist. In fact, she could well have done the training, for all he knew.


"I wanted her to be happy," Anna, nearly in tears, explained. "At first, I thought Mick wouldn't stay. Mich, she had other boyfriends but none of them lasted."


"Uh huh," Sabra grinned, "I'm not surprised."


"Mick was different," Anna continued, "and Michelle was in love with him, I could tell."


"So you couldn't bring yourself to face down this rival because that would be like admitting you're a lesbian? But maybe you had another solution - one in which you could keep your girlfriend and not break her heart by having her give up Mick? One, in which you were prepared to sacrifice yourself for the sake of love?"


"By going two on one?" Mick said.


"What's the harm?" Anna asked, "it is only a little sex! Mick could give me a baby like he did Michelle. It is a good solution!"


"For you two, maybe?" Mick said.


"I've never known Mick to turn down two babes before," Sabra smiled. Beside her, Mick choked on his coffee. "But, it's not only about 'a little sex'. Mick used to have 'a little sex' during our relationship and it didn't matter to him at all. But he loved me and, sometimes, he even showed it - not through 'a little sex' but through love. Anna, Mick can fuck you but you can't compel him to love you. Michelle, Mick loves you but he can't stand the dishonesty. If I'm leaving anything out, Mick, please say so?"


"No, ah, you're doing fine!"


"You want to be in a relationship with him, Michelle? A monogamous one?"


"I can't, I..."


"I'd say that's your answer, Mick. Do you want a father for Emily, Michelle?" 


"Sure, I'd never..."


"There! Easy to work out!" she twinkled her eyes.


"If you say so?"


Michelle glared at Sabra and Mick for a little while before getting up and storming out. Anna looked confused before following her. Karen squirmed in discomfort and Sabra shrugged.


"I don't think that's fair!" declared Karen.


"I think we upset the applecart, Mick," Sabra said.


"Never could get my head around women," Mick sighed.


"Not sure I get those two either," Sabra replied.


"You really think no-one cares? I thought with the moral climate, here..."


"Oh, there might be some howling from the usual suspects - religious groups and so on. But they're not likely to come to the concerts anyway. It'll make even less difference back home, providing you don't turn it into a crusade for gay rights. Folks'll think you're grandstanding and gays'll think you're exploiting them. Let Anna bang on about their 'special love' and leave it at that."


"The gossip mags'll start to tear into us!"


"Yeah, they might!" agreed Sabra, "but, it's how we respond that'll make the difference. Shrug it off and say 'we don't comment on our personal lives.' Don't give them any ammunition."


"You seem relaxed about it all?"


"I am. This is nothing compared to the crap other clients get into."


"Hey!" said Karen, "isn't this nice? Family breakfast together?"


Mick and Sabra stared at each other, before breaking out in laughter. "Yeah," Sabra smiled at her daughter, "it does feel good!"


The Curse were due to fly out that evening. The band had a day to sightsee, or just hangout, before going to the airport. Karen and Junior wanted to go shopping while Anna and Michelle announced they were going to Venice Beach. Soon Sabra and Mick were alone.


"What do you want to do for the day?" she asked. Mick grinned back at her. "Oh, no, that's got us in enough trouble already."


"Fancy a dip in the pool?"


"I don't have a swimsuit."


"So? It's private!"


"Oh, Mick - you, ah, never stop trying, do you?"


"We were always good together," he said, "between the fights, the bullshit!"


"I know we were, Mick. I wish things were nice and simple. There's too much history..."


"Would it help if I said 'sorry?'"


"Oh, Mick!" she came into his arms. "Yeah - I guess it's a start. Can you ever forgive me for what I did?"


"I guess I see a lot of things differently, now. I think you're right in a lot of things..."


"The cheating, Mick?" Sabra looked up at him. "The lying? I always blamed the rock lifestyle - always made excuses, but that's simply not going to happen again. I'm not putting myself through that sort of pain because, I *do* know better this time."


"So, where do we go from here?"


"I guess the pool," she smiled, "and then we'll see?"


Fortunately, there was no waiting media when the band arrived at LAX for the flight home. It kind of felt strange to be leaving - like a real anticlimax. Sabra saw them as far as the check in, then hung back with Mick while the others filed through.


"When you coming over?" he asked her.


"Not sure, Mick. I've, ah, a lot of thinking to do."


"Yeah," he grinned, "I guess we both have."


"It's been a fantastic five weeks, in any case. You've a great band, there. Take care of Karen, huh? And our son in law? Maybe some of his qualities might rub off on you, you never know?" she grinned.


"Like the whole devotion thing?"


"A little devotion? Yeah, maybe? But I'd settle for 'reliability' and 'trust'. We know we can do the passion, eh, Mick? It's all the other stuff I'm not sure about." They moved in for a hug and Sabra clung to him for a long, long time. When she eventually looked into his eyes, they were misty with tears. "Go on, fuck off, before I make a fool of myself."


"I love you, Sabra!"


"Jesus, Mick, just go!" she cried. "I'm not making a mess of myself in the fucking airport!"


He kissed her briefly, then she turned hurriedly and walked quickly out towards the doors, not looking back. Mick watched her go before he heard Anna calling him to hurry. Reluctantly, he turned back and walked to the check in.


Hardly anyone spoke during the whole twelve hour flight back home. Michelle and Anna sat together with Emily and dozed most of the way. Karen and Junior watched the movie and Mick fell asleep trying to read.


There was a reporter and photographer waiting when they arrived home and he insisted he take their picture, although they were red-eyed and disheveled from the flight. Anna managed a smile and the cameraman squeezed off a few shots of her solo.


"So," asked the reporter, "what's it feel like to be nominated for Best New Group in the Alternative category?" the reporter asked.


Anna hadn't a clue what he was talking about and looked to Mick for guidance.


"Yeah?" he walked up to the reporter, still spacey from jetlag.


"The Grammie's?" the reporter continued. "Haven't you heard?"


"Uh, no," Mick said. "I didn't know they were being announced."


"We got it through an hour ago," the guy explained, "here!"


Mick looked at the fax and whistled. "Shit!" he exclaimed.


"Is that your comment?" the reporter grinned.


"No, ah, we're, ah, very pleased to be nominated," he answered, "and it's a complete surprise."


"You returning for the presentations?"


"Look, ah, we just found out and we haven't a clue what our plans are."


"What is this?" Michelle asked, strolling up.


"We're up for an Grammy award."


"Shit!" she said.


"Fuck!" said Karen, listening in.


"Ok," laughed the reporter, "that's two 'shits' and a 'fuck!' Any other comments?"


"No, ah, I think that's all for now," Mick grinned.


The band split up outside the terminus and Mick left in a cab with Karen and Junior. Michelle and Anna headed back to the hillside villa. He told them he'd be by to pick up a few things and Michelle nodded, silently.


Mick began to think about his immediate future plans. He couldn't impose on Karen and Junior for long so he'd need to find somewhere to live. He thought to leave the villa for Anna, Michelle and Emily and considered getting a place close by, so he could keep in touch with his baby daughter.


Karen moved the TV out into the lounge for Mick and, otherwise, tried to make him as welcome as she could. He was free to smoke, as Junior did, and she fussed to make a nice dinner for them all.


Observing a relationship from the outside when they were being on their best behaviour was never a real test. But, Mick admired their simple domestic life. They pottered about doing their own thing while reinforcing the bond with simple smiles and casual touchs. Mick reminded himself that it was still early days and in their 'honeymoon' period. 


For dinner, they sat around the table together. Karen seemed to like the sense of family this ritual engendered. She'd prepared a Sunday roast, even though it was Friday, and a dish she called, 'Kartoffelsalat.' She'd evidently gone to a lot of trouble and Mick was flattered.


Junior cracked a bottle of 'Liebfraumilch' and poured himself and Mick a glass. He noticed Karen was drinking only OJ and his radar was beginning to buzz. This set up reminded Mick of a celebration and he wonder what it was all for.


After they cleaned up their plates, Junior announced there was some dessert to follow. He and Karen looked pensive and he wondered what was on their minds.


"Ok," Mick said at last, "what's the news?"


"Um," Junior fidgetted and Karen looked at her plate. "Yeah, um, I guess we've got a bit of an announcement."


"Ok," said Mick, leaning back in his chair. He was enjoying their discomfort, having a pretty good idea what the 'secret' was. "When is my grandchild due?"


"Huh?" Junior said in surprise. "How'd you..."


"Junior, it's pretty bloody obvious! Does Sabra know?"


"No, I, only found out for sure just before we left LA," Karen explained. "We slipped into a clinic on the way to Venice Beach."


"So? You didn't tell your mother?" Mick said, a little reproachfully.


"No, I, I'm sorry, Mick, it didn't seem the right time. You and Sabra had some things to say to each other, and..."


"So you figured to give us the space to sort things out? Very nice of you, but you should have told her."


"I'll call her."


"You do that, Karen."


"Y'know, Mick?" Karen said. "You're beginning to sound like my dad."


"I do? I am?" he said.


"Yeah, it's nice!"


"Right," he stood, "and now I guess I should hug my daughter!" Mick came around the table and Karen stood, accepting his embrace. He shook Junior's hand and wished them both the best.


"Thanks dad," said Junior, cheekily.


"Fuck you, Junior, and we're going to have a little chat about contraception, aren't we? I'm fucked if you're going to surround me with grandkids at my young age."


"Don't have to, Mick, I've got the booklet."


"Well fucking read it, Junior!" Mick told him, grinning.


Later, Mick watched a little TV in the lounge before dozing in his chair. He was still jetlagged and a little flat after the excitement of their American tour.


So, he was going to be a grandfather, he thought? The news didn't come as a complete surprise, only the time. He hadn't figured it was going to be so soon and there was clear implications for The Curse.


They had a CD to finish, although a compilation disk might be on the cards if they couldn't find enough new material. He could see to the production himself and needn't involve the rest of the band.


Then their contract with Sony/Flyblown was up for renegotiation. There'd been no options in the original contract - a fact not lost on Sony. No-one could've predicted the success of the band when they signed the paper.


That gave them a lot of leverage and it was only common sense to send out feelers to rival companies. Who could offer the best deal with the artistic freedom for The Curse to explore their creative possibilities? What did the rest of the band want to do? Would Anna be staying or will she want to pursue a solo career? As a bargaining chip, Anna was key, and he was realistic to admit The Curse's clout would be significantly diminished without her.


But things were frosty between the two halves of the band and he wondered how long that situation was going to continue. He figured he'd need every ounce of diplomacy to draw the two sides together into a common strategy. Ordinarily, Sabra should be handling that side of things but her and Michelle were not currently on speaking terms. Mick realised he'd need to heal the breach himself and wondered what tack he should take.


The next morning Karen spent a long time talking to her mother on the phone. Mick paced impatiently waiting for his turn. He had to endure a little longer as Junior received his instructions. Only then did he have a chance. Junior and Karen left him alone to speak privately.


"Well, ah, Mick, how do you feel?"


"Not bad," he sighed, "considering I'd never have figured this a couple of years ago."


"Hell, no," she laughed. "I guess I was slightly better prepared."


"So, that gives you more reason to come home?"


"Home, Mick? I'm a US citizen, now. I haven't called New Zealand home for twenty years. I've spent more of my life here in the States than anyplace else. I have a successful business and a marriage I need to get out of. Mick, I can't just up stakes and head over to the other side of the world on the strength of a promise. I'm not wired that way. I have a practical sense and it just seems too crazy at the moment."


"It doesn't stop you visiting?" Mick told her. "Maybe a little at a time until you learn to trust me?"


"Yeah, yeah, I guess. I'd like to be there for my grandchild, in any case. There's The Curse business affairs and maybe I could scout around for new talent?"


"Yeah, sure! And maybe I could put you up for a few days? When I get a new place, of course!"


"Maybe, Mick. Just - just don't expect the earth to move for you. I get the feeling you're hanging on to a dream that might not happen."


"Sooner or later it's got to be, Sabby, I know it."


"Yeah, well, Mick, you know a Hell of a lot more than I do. Just keep your options open, huh?"


"Like going cruising?"


"Oh, Mick, you're a fucking riot," she said, "a fucking riot!"


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KATZMAREK(C)



