Unfinished Melody

"This is ridiculous. Come upstairs with me. You can share my room for the night. No strings. No pressure. Just a bed for the night and a hot shower. You look cold and worn out."

Jill looked at George, studying his face for a long time, before she nodded in agreement. "I think I'd like that."

The two of them walked up the stairs to the second floor and down the hallway. George stopped in front of the door, unlocked it and stepped inside, flipping on the lamp.

---

Jill was lost in the music. She had forgotten why she had initially resisted coming by herself. She was watching the percussionists from a band playing music with a Latin flavor.

She closed her eyes and let the rhythm sweep her away. The sounds of the timbales and the congas added some zest to the guitar and keyboards.

The jangle of her cell phone surprised her as the band finished the number they were playing. "Hello?"

"Hi, Mom. I called the house and got no answer. Did you go?"

"Yes, dear, I'm here now."

"Good. Now, aren't you glad you went?"

"I really am." Jill responded. "The next band is about to start. Call me when you are on your way."

"Okay, I will." Rachel hung the phone up. She felt better knowing her mother wasn't sitting at home brooding.

---

Jill followed George into his room, wiping the water from her face as she entered.

"It was wetter out there than I thought." Jill wrung the raindrops from her hair.

"Oh. Here. Let me get you a towel." George handed her a small one from the stack in the bathroom.

"Thanks. I probably look like a drowned rat." Jill rubbed her damp hair with the towel and wiped her face. "That feels better."

George took the towel from Jill and stepped a little closer. "You missed a spot," he said and gently blotted her face. Jill closed her eyes and leaned in slightly, it was barely noticeable, but George noticed. He noticed and decided that he wanted to, no he needed to kiss her, just once, as he'd been longing to do for the whole night.

He took her chin with his hand and whispered, "Open your eyes. I want you to know who is kissing you."

Jill's eyes flew open. Her lips met his in a soft, gentle kiss as warm and as caring as the melody he played during the band's break.

"Oh, my. I'm... Um...," Jill stammered, not knowing what to say. She'd just kissed a guy. A guy she'd just met that night in the bar and she didn't even know his name. 'This is such a bad idea,' she thought, 'but that kiss, his kiss, felt so good. So right. So real.'

Jill stepped away from him and combed her fingers through her hair, more to give herself a minute to think than an attempt at grooming. 'It was just a kiss,' she thought, 'a little kiss.' So why was it the only thing she could think of? That kiss and everything it made her feel.

She risked raising her eyes to get a glimpse of him. He was putting away the guitar he'd carried from the bar and not paying any attention, at least not that she could tell, to her. She wondered about her attraction to him. Why did she feel she knew him, that he knew her and they were meant to be there that night together?

---

She heard the melody in that place between consciousness and dreams, and a smile formed on her face. Jill hadn't heard it in over twenty years. Sometimes late at night, in her sleep, she would hear it. He played it for her over and over again as she slept. She would wake up, feel an ache in her heart and wonder where George was.

Scarcely a day went by when she didn't think of him at least once. Her eyes fluttered for a moment. She realized that the song wasn't coming from her dreams; it was coming from a portable boom box a few feet from where she sat.

"I think my mom will like this CD. I got it for her. They play music from the olden days, when she was in college." Jill heard the young boy talking to the girl beside him.

"I liked that song. It was kind of sad in a way," the girl replied. "And I think your mom will love it.

"Excuse me," Jill spoke to the boy. "Where did you get that CD?"

He motioned back towards the concession area. "There was a guy selling CD's from all the bands here."

"Could I see the case for the CD you have playing for a moment?"

"Sure." The boy handed the case to Jill.

She was disappointed that there was no picture of the band on either the front or back of the cover. Just a picture of a rainy street, reflections of neon shimmering in the rippling puddles. The name of the band gave no hints either. 'ODB' The title of the CD was Unforgotten Heartbreaks.

"ODB, whatever could that mean?" Jill said to herself.

"On Desperation Boulevard," the girl answered. "They're up a bit later."

Jill scanned the titles of the songs, and then she saw it.

---

George felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment. He couldn't explain why he had kissed her. A bit of guilt had worked its way to the surface. He didn't want her to think that he was just after a romp in the sack.

Jill turned towards the bed when she heard the first soft chords from the acoustic guitar. He wasn't looking at her, concentrating on the music as she watched him play. Jill guessed he sensed she was watching him because he did look up then, his grey eyes meeting her hazel ones.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

"No," Jill protested softly. "Oh, no. It's okay. I...I...well, I liked it."

George continued playing his guitar. He smiled at Jill. "So did I."

"What's that song called?" Jill asked, "The one you're playing right now?"

George shook his head. "It doesn't have a name — yet. The guys in the band call it gum."

"Gum?" Jill puzzled. "Like Bazooka?"

He chuckled. "No. George's Unfinished Melody. G. U. M"

"George," Jill said, feeling the taste of his name in her mouth. "That's your name? I feel bad now. I just realized I kissed you and I didn't even know your name. I'm Jill, by the way."

"Hi, Jill. Glad to meet you."

"Hi, George. Glad to meet you, too."

The sounds of George's quiet playing filled the silence of the small hotel room. Jill sat on the other bed and listened as his fingers moved across the strings, just as she'd watched from her table at the bar.

"It's nice. I like it," she said when he had finished. "Actually I like it better than any of the other songs the band played tonight. It seemed more personal, more meaningful than those other ones. Oh. Not that the other songs weren't good, too. They were all good. They were—maybe I should just stop babbling now and go take that shower, if you wouldn't mind. All the smoke from the bar."

"No. I wouldn't mind. Go right ahead. Take your time. I'll take the next one." George strummed his guitar. She could hear the music as she gathered up her things and headed into the bathroom.

He smiled as the door closed. It made him feel good that she had liked the song, his song. George had been tinkering with the melody for over two years. It was something that seemed to be a part of him. To him, the song seemed to be the voices of two people in harmony, sharing an unrequited love. He had struggled to find words to match the melody.

Jill took off her sandals, tugged down her jeans and panties and pulled her violet shirt over her head. She adjusted the shower and stepped under the warm spray. She hoped the shampoo's flowery scent would wash the smell of the smoky bar from her hair. Now, if it could just wash the thought of him from her mind, the taste of him from her mouth.

George could feel subtle changes in how he played the melody as he thought about the girl in his shower. The guitar seemed to sound more plaintive, almost as if it were calling out to her.

"This is ridiculous", she said to herself. "Stop thinking about him. Finish your shower and get some sleep. Call the auto service first thing in the morning and go back home. Back to where you belong. Back to Mark."

The feeling of her lips was still fresh in his mind. He sighed softly as his hands moved over the strings; he wondered what she would feel like.

'Or,' a little voice whispered in her head, 'you could go out there and see where this attraction leads.' Jill was curious where another kiss, and then another might lead. Where those hands, those musician's hands, that stroked those guitars so expertly, would stroke her body, and play melodies on her body. What would those fingers feel like?' She closed her eyes and Jill's own soapy fingers became his as she rubbed the creamy lather over herself.

Jill rinsed off and stepped out of the shower. She was no closer to a decision now than she had been when she went into the bathroom, but at least she was clean. She dried the water droplets from her skin and wrapped the towel around her wet hair. Jill rummaged around in her bag until she found a small bottle of her favorite lilac scented lotion. She smoothed the rich, creamy liquid over her skin, enjoying the sweet fragrance.

She unwrapped the towel from her head. Her nightgown was right on top in her bag. The small buttons running down the front were functional, but Jill didn't bother, pulling the pink cotton knit over her head. She adjusted the thin straps over her shoulders and began to run a comb through the damp tangles. She quickly plaited her hair into a loose braid hanging down her back.

'I've been in here forever,' she thought, and quickly gathered up her clothes, tossing everything back into her bag. 'I'm sure he's exhausted and ready for his shower, too.' Jill opened the door and stepped out of the bathroom.

George looked up as the door opened. A warm smile greeted Jill. His fingers stilled on the strings. Jill's body was perfectly silhouetted through her nightgown in the light from the bathroom.

"How was the shower?" George stood up and put his guitar back on its stand.

"I feel so much better. Thank you."

George opened his suitcase and retrieved a loose pair of boxers that would double as sleepwear tonight. "My turn to get clean," he said and closed the door to the bathroom.

George's things were spread out on one bed. Curious about his things, his guitars and about the guitar man himself, Jill walked over to it. She ran her fingers along the smooth polished wood of the acoustic guitar, almost, but not quite touching it. Jill's fingers hovered just above the strings. She wondered what would those fingers that played this instrument so beautifully do if they touched her, played her?

Jill turned out the overhead light, leaving only the dim light from the bedside table's lamp to illuminate the room. She pulled back the covers of her bed and stretched out on the cool sheets. As long as the day had been, she really wasn't ready for sleep yet. She got up and walked over to the window overlooking the quiet street below. A gentle breeze ruffled the curtains, bringing the smell of wet asphalt and an occasional swish, swish from cars passing along the street below.

"You don't mind the open window, do you?" George's voice startled her.

She had been thinking about the wedding, and Mark, and George. She'd call a garage tomorrow, get her car serviced and be back on the road by lunchtime. She'd say good-bye to George and never see him again. And in a week she'd be married. That was the best thing. Right? She wondered if that was really true.

Jill turned and smiled at George coming out of the bathroom in heart-spangled boxers and a t-shirt.

"No. I was just thinking about a...." Jill's voice trailed off.

"A...?" George asked.

"Oh, it's nothing. It'll keep for another day. It's late. I really should get a few hours sleep before I get back on the road tomorrow."

"Sure." George moved his guitars from his bed and climbed in. "Good night, Jill."

"Good night, George," Jill answered, switching off the lamp. The room was cast into shadows, lit by the moonlight streaming in through the open window.

Only the rustling of the sheets and the quiet breathing coming from the two people pretending to be asleep disturbed the stillness of the room. Each one thinking about the other, the kiss they had shared.

"George," Jill whispered into the darkness.

"Yes, Jill?"

"Would you kiss me again?" she asked, her voice barely audible.

There was a long silence. Jill wondered if she should have just kept her mouth shut. Obviously, he didn't want to kiss her again. He hadn't felt the attraction, the connection she thought they'd had.

"I don't think that would be a good idea."

"Oh. Okay. I shouldn't have asked you. Sorry." Jill's voice was very quiet, hurt evident in her hushed tones.

"Because," George continued, "I don't think I'd be able to stop at one more kiss, at just kissing you."

Another long silence, finally broken by Jill's quiet response. "I wouldn't ask you to stop. I wouldn't want you to stop, George."

Time seemed to stand still in the small room, in the space between the two beds and then George asked, "Are you sure, Jill? Sure this is what you want."

"Yes, George. I'm very sure." At least about tonight, Jill thought. She reached over and flipped the switch to turn on the lamp.

"You don't have to... I mean, you could leave the light off if you'd be more comfortable." George stammered as he crossed the few feet separating the two beds to join Jill in hers.

"No, George. Like you said earlier. I want to know who's kissing me." Jill held her arms open, welcoming his kisses, and George himself, into her bed.

George sat down on the edge of Jill's bed. He reached down with trembling fingers and touched her cheek, smoothing a strand of hair away from her face.

"Are you sure, Jill?" George asked quietly, continuing to trace the contours of her face glowing in the soft lamplight.

Jill looked up into his silver blue eyes and answered. "Yes, George. I'm sure. I may not be sure of anything else in my life right now, but I'm very sure about this. About you. About me. About the kiss."

"I watched your hands, you know," Jill said softly, "while you played. I couldn't see the band, or even your face, but I could see your hands. I saw them and I wondered what they would feel like touching me, caressing me, playing my body like you played your guitar."

George's hand stilled on her face at Jill's words. She turned her head and kissed his fingers, calluses rough against her lips. He slid his hand down her cheek, her neck, across her shoulder and down her arm, never losing contact with her.

"Stand up, darlin'. I'll show you what I was feeling up there while I was on stage." George pulled her from the bed and, still holding her hand, walked with her to the center of the small room. He turns her away from him, her back in the thin cotton gown pressed tight to his body. George molded Jill's body into his instrument, one hand raised, elbow bent tight against her waist, the other down at her side.

He held her upraised hand and then slid his fingers down to her wrist, whispering the names of the chords. "E-minor, C, G, F, D, E-minor, C, G, F, then the chorus, A, C, E-minor, D." George lightly stroked Jill's belly with his other hand, strumming her just as he had his guitar earlier that night.

George played the melody on Jill's body, humming, murmuring the notes as he went. His lips soft and gentle on her neck. His hands skimmed lightly over her, the touch barely perceptible and yet Jill was so aware of his hands on her.

They stayed just like that and then George turned Jill to face him and kissed her tenderly on the lips. His arms around her, he hummed the gum tune quietly as they swayed together, dancing in the dim lamplight. George's voice faded away as the song ended.

One more long, slow kiss. A moment's hesitation. Silver grey eyes asking, Are you sure? Hazel eyes answering with a simple, heartfelt yes. Fingers fumbling, unfastening each tiny pearl button. His lips kissing each new portion of her skin uncovered. Another kiss, seeming to last an eternity and yet over much too soon.

---

"... soon as I could. I'm amazed that you're still here." Rachel plopped her lawn chair on the ground beside Jill. "And even more astounded that you actually came."

Jill hadn't noticed her daughter's approach; she had been deep in thought, deep in the past.

"I'm surprised that you were able to get away from work." Jill smiled at her daughter and squeezed her arm.

"I lied." Rachel grinned. "I told them I wasn't feeling good, and to mark me down as first to leave. It wasn't that busy, and here I am."

Rachel settled down in her chair. "How has the music been?"

Jill nodded her head. "A few bands I could have done without, but for the most part, it's been quite enjoyable.

"Who's up next?"

Jill was glad that the sun had set, and that it was beginning to get dark. She felt her face flush as she replied, "ODB."

"ODB? I think I've heard one of their songs on the radio," Rachel replied as she reached into her cooler for a drink.

Up near the stage, a group of people picked up their chairs and began to move away. Jill tapped Rachel on the arm. "I want to move up there."

Rachel gave her mother a look of astonishment. "Wow, Mom! Any closer and we'd be up on stage with the musicians."

Jill attempted to appear aloof as she replied. "Back in the day, I just might have been up on the stage."

Rachel looked at her mother with great interest. This was a side of her she'd never seen before. The expression on her mother's face a glimpse of the young woman she used to be, perhaps.

Rachel followed her mother, chair in one hand, and the cooler in the other. They made their way to the open spot Jill had spotted. Rachel had to admit that they nearly had a front row view of the stage.

Jill watched as the band took the stage. As soon as the first guitar solo began, all doubt was removed. It was George up there. She could tell from the expressions on his face, the way his hands moved over the guitar. She closed her eyes and felt his hands moving over her body on that night so many years ago.

---

They stood there in the room, silent. When his fingers finished with the last button, her nightgown fell from her shoulders and caught at her waist. His eyes seemed to drink in her nakedness, a small smile formed on his face. Slowly his eyes traveled back up her body and to her eyes.

She liked what she saw in his eyes. Normally being naked in front of Mark made her feel uneasy, a little shy, like the school girl she no longer was. Lately the look on his face was almost more of a leer, full of lechery rather than love. During those times he made her feel like an object, a thing. Something to be gobbled up, to be devoured. George's eyes were different, they filled her with warmth and desire. His eyes made her feel she was a woman to take pleasure in, to be savored.

His hands felt different on her body, not like Mark's at all. Compared to George's gentle caresses, Mark's usual touch was clumsy, and more like groping than foreplay. George touched her body as if he was trying to memorize it, to get to know every inch of her and all the secrets she held, even from herself. She felt innocent and open and vulnerable under his hands and under the shadowed gaze of those silvery-blue eyes.

Deep down she knew what she was doing wasn't right. She was promised to Mark, but here she was, about to make love with George. Jill didn't try to rationalize it, or to justify it in her mind. Right now, at this moment in time, there was just one person she wanted to be with.

His lips met hers again. Her mouth opened slightly as she allowed his tongue free entry into her mouth. Jill reached down and grasped the bottom of George's t-shirt and pulled it up over his head. She wanted to feel his body against hers. Jill wrapped her arms around his back and pulled him against her. She felt his chest press against her breasts. Her eyes closed as she allowed the kiss to take her places she had never been.