Capricorn Season - Jimmy Page

Chapter 16 Part 1

"Why so blue?" I asked, standing in the doorway of the cottage. I had just been outside for a smoke, enjoying the morning air. Everything was so different up here in the mountains. It seemed more than just an altitude change. Something in the atmosphere was altered in this place.

I felt healed here, I always had. When we came up here as a kid it invariably signaled a change within me. I wondered for a short time before making the trip what would change during our time on holiday, but now I didn't have to, the answer was clear in front of me. Jimmy had changed, our relationship was morphing.

He often told me I should listen more and talk less. At the times of him saying that I thought it was just a dig, a comment Pagey made because he wanted you to stop talking, the sly notions he always made. I felt like I'd heard them all in the two years we'd known each other, and that seemed like one of them. But now I was changing my tune because he was right. As much as it irked me, I couldn't deny it.

I had learned a great deal about him in the last three days from simple observation. He liked three sugars in his tea, he always ran the back of his hand or thumbnail against his lip and chin cleft when deep in thought, he didn't like when dogs jumped on him, and he preferred the feeling of fleece rather than cotton. I didn't think he would be fond of me watching him so closely, he would be disgruntled by the intimacy. He was a very private person.

His head whipped up to see me, standing in the doorway. He was bent over the guitar that sat on the floor in front of him, a notebook on his lap. He shrugged. I walked over to the couch and sat down, pulling the afghan over me. It was made with care, most likely by someone's grandmother. It was monochrome green with three sections of gradient yarn. Even with the fire going I had to warm myself. I was surprised Jimmy wasn't shivering, although he sat next to the flames and absorbed their heat.

"I think I know what the matter is." I gave a knowing smile. He huffed, then looked down at his notebook again. I couldn't tell what was written but it filled half the page. "You're missing your lassy, aren't you?"

When he looked at me again I could see something had shifted in his eyes. They were softer now, almost delicate. They were watery at the edges. His face was round and cherubic, even with the stubble that was showing through. He didn't say anything.

I sighed, "it's okay, you don't have to answer me. I can tell I'm right."

His expression twisted up, his features now terse and irritated. "What makes you think that?"

"What else is there to moan about? You're rich, successful, and on holiday. The only problems you've got are which pairs of leather patent loafers to buy and the girl who won't take you seriously."

"And what makes you think she won't take me seriously?" His tone was shifting, sounding more irritated with every syllable that came off his tongue. His lilt had turned into a battering swarm of angry bees.

"She would be here if she did."

His brow mashed together, angling upwards with discomfort. His lips morphed into a grimace. Without another word he stood from his chair and went to the front door. It opened and slammed shut before I could protest.

Maureen stood in the hall, frozen. She looked concerned. When the house stopped shaking from the impact of the door, she spoke. "What the hell did you say?" She was flagrant with me too.

I shrugged. "All I said was everything he already knew."

-

As we drifted into deep tracks of farm equipment-created mud tracks, I knew we would be at the cottage soon. I turned around in my seat, looking briefly over my shoulder to see Carmen asleep. Her head was lulled to the side and her tiny cheek was dimpled as it lay on her shoulder. Strider was sitting next to her in the seat, watchful and honorary as ever.