Capricorn Season - Jimmy Page

Chapter 15 Part 2

"What am I gonna do when you go back?" I sighed, looking up at him. He always looked so wonderful in the pale light of morning.

"What you always do."

I sighed again. It seemed that I couldn't keep a satisfying breath. My chest felt heavy and my lungs were damp. The tears I held back were draining into my body, flooding the cavities and arteries that functioned normally otherwise. "Back to playing lone housewife in an empty house with Lucy, huh? Back to working for a dickhead I hate... what a life."

He wrapped his arms around me and perched his head on top of mine, "don't think like that. You're not a lone housewife, you're taking care of my place while I'm away. That's sweet, that's valiant. You're doing real work at the office, that's important."

"I would hardly call sweeping, dusting, and doing laundry valiant." I retorted. His hands felt so good on me I never wanted them to go.

"The ole girl needs it. I don't think I've dusted, mopped, hoovered, or even taken a broom to her since I moved in. Been too busy. You're taking care of her, just like you take care of me."

I snorted. "I do not take care of you!"

"You do. You make sure I'm taken care of. You make me food, wash my clothes, and you even shampoo my hair when we shower. You're sweet, like a drizzle of honey on my tongue." He kissed the top of my head. I felt a wave of warm euphoria wash through me, rushing to every cell and inch of my body. I was content, I felt held and wanted. I felt loved, I suppose. It wasn't a feeling I was familiar with.

Yesterday was the best I'd had in years. He made me feel special. I didn't feel special very often. I mean, how many chances did I get? I didn't have family or friends to keep me company and my work life heralded zero praise. He was all I had at this venture other than Lucy. 

"I wish I could do more to make you feel the way I do. I'm sorry that I'm gone so often. I know that must be hard for you. It's hard for me, but it's my job and it's what I love to do. You're getting the raw end of the deal, and for that, I could never apologize enough." He pressed another kiss to my head. This time there was no euphoria, just a pang of sadness at his words. I felt guilty.

"No, you do enough. Yesterday was the best day of my whole life." I felt his breathing shift, his chest moving slower now.

"I think I could've done more. I should've done more. You're so great and you did so much for me on my birthday." His brows moved together in frustration as he talked.

"It's okay, Jimmy, I had a great day. You did quite enough for me. I couldn't have asked for more. Well, maybe a two-tiered cake, but that's just reaching for the stars."

He laughed shortly out of his nose and shook his head. "Thank you, I try."

Some time passed in the bed. We were just breathing and looking around, touching each other. His skin was soft and delicate like fresh linen.

"You're always so beautiful in the morning." He spoke quietly, his voice in my ear.

I craned my neck upward to look at him. "Just in the morning?"

He laughed. "No, you're beautiful all the time. But especially in the mornings. Your hair is all tangled and wild. I love it! I can wrap my hands in it and smell it if I like, even tie it back and play with it." He began doing just that, raking his fingers through my matted hair.

I couldn't stop the giggles erupting from my throat.

-
We sat in the living room again, Lucy rested between us, and read our books. This was our go-to activity for a quiet afternoon. It was raining as well and that limited our choices further. If it were up to me, we would be on a riverside picnic date with Lucy on the leash. But the sound of rain rattling against the roof was peaceful so I wasn't too upset. 

I wanted him to play for me. He would usually have already drug it out and fiddled with chord progressions and songs if he weren't in the middle of touring. I settled for his head resting on my lap and his gentle breathing filling my ears. This song was sweet and familiar. 

We stayed this way for almost two hours until I grew painfully bored. My book was not stimulating enough. 

Lucy seemed to be feeling the same way. She jumped up from the couch and landed on the ground with a chattering meow. She walked in short circles, then stopped in front of me and shook her tail. She was trying to get my attention.

I put my book down and looked at her. Her pupils were dilated and her ears were pushed back. She looked at me head-on, her tail still wavering. I asked what she wanted and she took off. We wandered through the house, her chattering and the ticking of the kitchen clock the only sound, until I found the object of her desire. The feather on a string.

It was her favorite toy and her love. It was the first toy I bought her, just two days after she moved in with me. She would wake me up each morning screaming to play with her. I picked up the plastic end of the cat toy and began dragging it across the floor, giggling as she chased it back and forth. Her paws clamped down on the runner as she caught her prey. The bell jingled as it followed the feather lifelessly in the wind.

Jimmy eventually found me on the floor playing with her. I wasn't gone for very long, but it must've felt like ages due to the stillness of the living room.

"Can I take a crack at it?" He asked, hands resting on his hips. He looked like a mother asking to try out the latest in teen technology. I handed him the feather toy with a chortle.

He bounced it up and down, creating a smacking sound as it collided with the thinly protected wooden floor. Lucy went nuts for it all the same, even if Jimmy was a bit apprehensive. I wondered if he'd ever had a cat or even a pet, for that matter. So I asked.

"I suppose not." He said haphazardly, distracted by the way Lucy's eyes lit up when she caught ahold of the feather and bell.

"Never? Not even a goldfish or a spider in a jar?"

He thought for a moment, now more engaged in my conversation, "I had an ant farm in year three."

"An ant farm? That was the extent of your pet-owning as a child?"

He shrugged. "Dad was allergic to pet dander and mom didn't want to look after a fish. I do remember being fascinated by the animals on my uncle's farm, though. We lived there for the first few years of my life. I suppose that's why I had such an affinity for nature and all things that occupy it. Well, and being an Earth sign, of course."

"Naturally."

-

The day was winding down and our domestic bliss was soon to end for the night. Before we retired to bed it was time for dinner. He heated up what we had for lunch and I sat across from him, as usual, and Lucy pooled onto the chair next to me. A vase of fresh flowers sat between us.

He snaked his arm across the table and offered his hand, slipping his lithe fingers into the unoccupied spaces of mine with dexterity. I was used to receiving his touch in this way, gentle and loving. He was a touchy man, always reaching for me in some way.

At night when we tangled in the sheets, he would press his clammy body against mine, or wrap his arm around my waist. If we were cuddling already he would make sure I was firmly planted on his chest or bury his face in my cleavage. He said it was the most comfortable place he'd ever known.

His shameless sexuality made me feel many things. Sometimes I rolled my eyes and slapped his arm, other times I was giddy and blushed, but mostly I was flared up in a frenzy. He wreaked havoc on my body like a fever, pushing internal temperatures up and pressing sweat out of my glands. He made my body slick and soft, ready for him to touch and take me.

Tonight when we lay in bed there was no sex. He didn't even attempt it. There were nights when he wouldn't leave me alone about it, like a dog scratching to be let in. Other times he would simply whimper in my ear and reach for me. But tonight was different, it was sweeter. Like watered-down tea on my tongue, he was gentle and careful.

He started by putting the blanket over us and then cuddled into my backside. He was the big spoon tonight. I know he liked being little spoon sometimes, but it wasn't often that he asked. His preferred cuddling position was him pressed into my side, one arm wrapped around me and the other under the pillow. That was if we were sleeping. If we were just laying around on the couch he liked to be laying on my chest, or me on his. He liked to hear my heartbeat and breathing. He liked to have easy access to my delicate face and hair, he explained.

A chill from downstairs was blowing through our bedroom. The house rocked with every shift of the water below. I had gotten used to the feeling, the uneven foundation of the boathouse. I grew to be comfortable with the uncertainty, almost soothed by the lack of stability. I suppose it was a lot like him, the house. I wondered if he understood his attraction to it.

I felt better in our bed now that he was home. Being trapped in the house without him was lonely. Sleeping in our bed without him was like floating on a desolate sea. I was in a canoe and my shipmate had jumped overboard. I was left to row when my arms were tired when he wasn't there.

But he was here for tonight. Next week it was off to Bron Yr Aur with Robert and Maureen. After that, it was back on tour and time to start recording. I knew our peace had a time limit and that was the least peaceful thing in the world. But for the time being, I enjoyed the feeling of his breath on my neck.