Ghost of You

The Ghost of You - Chapter 3

I woke up Monday after having practically slept the entire weekend, refreshed and feeling awesome. I had a really ridiculously productive day which involved finishing my room, doing all the errands the folks wanted, and writing two articles for the magazine. That night, I received a call from one of the editors.

"So, how's Midwest life treating you?" Mindy, who was about two years older than me, was the creator and editor in chief of NMZD. I met her at Berkeley and we hit it off right away. She started the magazine, which kind of blew up over night because we were seemingly covering things Rolling Stone wouldn't and I think the kids appreciated that. She's the one that gave me a job fresh out of college and I was in debt to her for that, always. Right now, though, she was getting on my last nerve.

"Yawn and its cold as fuck. How's California?"

"Toasty," she said and I could just hear her smile through the phone, if that is even possible.

"Oh, just rub it in why don't you! Sheesh!" I said and she laughed.

"Alright, are you free Saturday night? Cure's playing the Metro and I want an interview and some pics. You got a camera with you?" I couldn't speak; I was so excited as The Cure was one of my favorite bands ever. I told her I had a camera and she told me she'd put me on the list. "You wanna bring anyone," she asked and my mind went to Allison.

"If you put me down for two and I can't find anyone..." I trailed off and she tisked. "Then you don't use the ticket. I don't care. You'll have to interview before the show, which I have you booked at 5, and the show starts at 7. You have the first three songs to take pics and then you have to go back into the crowd or wherever. The pass should be all access. Anyway, I want, at least, two pages worth with pictures. So be candid in the interview and while they perform and such."

"Mindy, you're the best boss ever."

"Yeah," she said, "remember that as you're listening to the next couple cd's I'm sending you."

"That bad?" Normally when she'd say things like that, the bands were total crap but she made a "meh" sound before letting me know that there may be one good one but, I'm the reviewer. "That's why I pay you-your opinion, not mine. Now, I gotta go." Mindy and I said our good-byes and hung up.

I ended up looking in the phone book to find Allison. When I found what I thought was the number, I figured I'd try it. I mean, it was the only one in the book. After a couple rings, she answered. "Hello?"

"Allison?" I asked unsure if I had dialed correctly or whatever.

"Yes. Who's calling?"

"Um, Charlie."

"Charlie?" Great, not her too.

"Yeah, um, Charlie Riley?" I waited for a beat before I heard her gasp and squeal into the receiver.

"RILES?! Andy! Charlie Riley's on the phone! Oh my God! How are you?!" I had to laugh at her excitement. It was cute and made me smile. It made me realize how much I missed her.

"I'm good. How are you?"

"Besides knocked up?"

"Knocked up?"

She laughed, "Yeah, Andy knocked me up."

"How far along," I asked, but I already knew a few of the answers to these questions thanks to...

"Oh about three months, now. I don't look like it, but if you go to lunch me, you'll definitely know something was off."

"Still pixie-stix and cap 'n' crunch sandwiches?"