Intro: When They Meet
Searching all my days just to find you
I'm not sure who I'm looking for
I'll know it
When I see you
Until then, I'll hide in my bedroom
Staying up all night just to write
A love song for no one
I'm tired of being alone
So hurry up and get here
So tired of being alone
So hurry up and get here
I could have met you in a sandbox
I could have passed you on the sidewalk
Could I have missed my chance?
And watched you walk away?
I'm tired of being alone
So hurry up and get here
So tired of being alone
So hurry up and get here
You'll be so good
You'll be so good for me
[(Love Song For No One – John Mayer)
JC groaned when he rolled over and sunshine hit his eyelids. Why in the hell did he do this to himself? The nights he spent drinking too much, staying up too late were beginning to take their toll. He wasn’t very good at being “single” – he didn’t like it. And since *NSYNC wasn’t touring, he found himself at even more loose ends…
“You look like shit,” he told the reflection in the dresser mirror. Bloodshot eyes. Scruffy, half-grown beard. His curly, long hair was a sleep-tossed mess. “Who’d love you now? Hung over and you look like a truck ran over you,” he grunted. “If the girl of your dreams saw you now, she’d take one look and run as fast as she could in the opposite direction.”
He had come to visit his parents to straighten himself around. Last night was the first one in Chicago – and he’d pulled the same stunt he had been for months – play the party boy. What a moron!
JC was surprised to see a woman around his mother’s age sitting in a wheelchair at the Chasez breakfast table. Karen smiled at her oldest son. “Good morning, Josh. You got in late.”
He nodded, a little bleary-eyed. “Good morning.”
“Remember I told you my friend Martha Carpenter was coming to visit for two weeks.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Not really.
“You’ll have to forgive Josh, he is not human in the morning,” Karen told her friend.
“If my niece was here, he’d wake up,” Martha announced.
Great another person pushing a relative at him.
“What is Kristin doing today?” Karen asked.
“She should be doing seminars all day, I believe. She gave me her cell phone number in case I should need her.”
JC poured himself a mug of coffee and leaned against the counter. Someone who gave seminars. The picture he got was a woman in a tweed suit and glasses.
“You might like Kristin, Josh,” Karen said.
“I’m sure she’s lovely,” he replied politely.
“She is that,” Martha stated proudly. “Poor girl buried herself in her daughter and work when Peter was killed.”
The picture just kept getting worse, a dour faced widow.
JC escaped when the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it.”
Kristin de Carlo frowned when a rumpled, unshaven man with a mop of dark curls answered the door. “Excuse me, I am looking for the Chasez home.”
She was wearing a suit, but it wasn’t tweed. It was a linen color with a fuchsia blouse beneath. A cloud of soft black hair tumbled over one shoulder. Her dark eyes were intelligent and something else...
“Excuse me, sir?”
JC realized he was staring. “Uh, yeah. Kristin, right? Martha Carpenter’s niece, right?”
“You have me at a disadvantage...”
“Come in.” JC stepped back, allowing her in. “I’m Josh. Karen’s son.”
“Oh...nice to meet you... Josh.”
Wonderful. She was so beautiful he could barely speak and he looked like exactly what he was – hung over. “They’re in the kitchen.” He pointed in the general direction. “I’ll be down in a few,” he muttered as he beat a hasty retreat.
Kristin wondered what she had said to scare him off. By the looks of him he’d certainly had a rough night.
“Good morning, Kristin!” Her aunt cheered.
“Hello, Aunt Marti.” Kristin bent to kiss her cheek. “Did you sleep well?”
“Like a baby until about four o’clock or so.”
“Oh? Did you not feel well?”
“I’m afraid Josh got in rather late,” Karen put in. “He seems so restless lately.”
“Josh? The one who answered the door?” Kristin asked.
“I know he didn’t make a very good first impression...”
“Mrs. Chasez, I hardly took notice.” Kristin assured her kindly.
Karen gave her a grateful smile. “Do you have time for breakfast?”
“You needn’t fuss over me. A glass of orange juice would be wonderful.”
“Coming up. Have a seat.”
Kristin sat next to her aunt. “So are you fully recovered from the trip?” she asked her.
“I believe so. I never would have attempted it without you. You are such a dear...”
“We’re family, Aunt Marti. I never would have made it through college without you.”
Oh, God, she was the genuine thing, JC thought as he listened to the kitchen chatter. Beautiful. Intelligent. Family-oriented. Straight arrow. He didn’t stand a chance with someone like her.
He’d showered quickly, changed clothes, and brushed his teeth. His beard was still rough, but he hadn’t decided whether he was growing it out.
“There you are, Josh!” His mother cheered when he entered, looking better than the first time. “You met Kristin.”
“I-um-yeah. At the door.” JC retrieved his mug from the counter and sat across from Kristin. He sucked at small talk. What could he say?
“Kristin, Josh is here for a couple of weeks too – maybe you two can take in some sights,” Karen suggested.
“I – sure, if you want to.” JC looked to the woman who observed him cautiously.
“I suppose that depends on what sights.” Kristin was non-committal.
“The art museum maybe,” Aunt Martha suggested.
“I love the museum.” Kristin said softly.
“I’ll take you,” JC told her.
“It would have to be later in the afternoon or a couple. I have seminars most mornings.”
“Whatever works for you.”
“When was the last time you saw a baseball game?” Karen asked.
Kristin laughed. “Since my daughter decided dance was more exciting.”
“I can get us some good seats,” JC announced. “Do you like theme parks? We could go to Gurnee, maybe make a day of it...”
“Josh, you don’t need to spend all your time entertaining me,” Kristin said quietly.
“I want to.”
Their eyes met over the rim of her glass. Something lonely and earnest in his eyes spoke to her.
“All right, Josh. I’ll leave my hotel number and cell. We’ll see what we can arrange.” Kristin glanced at her watch. “Oh my! I’d best be going” She rose and grabbed her handbag. “Thank you for the juice, Mrs. Chasez. Aunt Martha, have a wonderful day.”
JC rose to follow her. “Kristin...”
Digging in her handbag for her card. She dashed down the numbers and handed them to JC. “Before we plan days – let’s start with drinks,” she suggested. “I’ll be back at the hotel around six or so. Call me then.”
He grinned at her harassed, take control style. “I will.”
Kristin laughed at herself. “They don’t call me the steamroller for nothing!” Pressing her fingertips to her pink stained lips, she then put them to his. “Later.”
“Have a good day!” he called as she hurried out the door and to her car. With a jaunty little wave she as gone.
“Not ‘steamroller’” Martha Carpenter said as she rolled into the foyer. “Actually, they call her the ‘velvet fist’. Takes a certain sort of man to love a woman like that.”