The Suggestion Box (Volume 1)

Part 3: Golden Gate Wishes (3)

Based on the following Suggestions:

Names: Neal D. Parker, Suzannah
Times: Winter Solstice, 5 minutes to midnight, 11:59 PM, 1988
Places: San Francisco Bay Area, cave hidden behind a waterfall
Objects: baby, electric A-frame guitar

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What a piece of work is man? Neal Parker mused to himself as he sorted records and music books at Turntable Records once more. He'd been grousing for years at the idea of following in his father's footsteps and performing music in front of an audience—never mind how drunk or preoccupied they were—and only last night, he'd caved and done just that. He should have never let Peter talk him into that open mic night at Silver Cloud. It was the worst possible situation for someone like him, with little confidence in his abilities, thankless as it was.

And yet... not entirely thankless. Neal grinned as he remembered the one person in whom his haphazard choice of an oldie from his dad's signature album (as if no one would think that an obvious attempt at trump-card!) might have made a difference: the girl in the sundress and sneakers. He recalled the grin of sheer delight on her face in the one time he actually opened his eyes to remind himself of the reality of his surroundings. Her eyes were closed, her chin tipped back, a blissful peace radiating from her face. The very thought made his heart swell yet again as it had in that one moment. By the time he'd gotten his instrument packed up, she was gone. Had she come just to hear him? It didn't appear that she had been there to eat—Neal wondered why not; the restaurant where his friend worked was notorious for good food.

"Oy! Crooner! You going swoony on me, over there?" Sarah's harsh voice jerked him from his reminiscing. Neal realized he had been standing there for several minutes with what was probably a stupid look pasted on his face. Sarah was eyeing him skeptically. She flourished toward the front door as it chimed. "Your public awaits!" she mocked him.

Neal sighed and got down to business.

During lunch, he saw that Peter had called; there were a bunch of friends from the music and theater scene getting together that weekend—and Neal was invited.

"I think you'll like it, man," Peter drawled in the message. "See you there, and no excuses, okay?"

Neal sighed; he wasn't in his normal bad mood, so he figured he'd accept before his rational side gave him the leverage he needed to back out. What was more, he'd call a friend. He dialed her number.

"Hello?"

"Hey Jordyn, it's Neal."

"Oh, hey!" The sunny young woman's voice perked up immediately. "Neal! Haven't heard from you in a while! How's it going?"

"Oh, fine; say, you doing anything this weekend?"

"Weekend?" Her cheery voice faltered. "Um—Maybe? Why?"

"Peter just called; he and Frank are throwing a get-together. Wanna come?"

"Oh that!" Jordyn giggled, but her voice didn't lose its edge. "Um, I'm—well, I'm sort of already going," she confessed.

"Oh..." Neal's brain scrambled for some reason to cling to. "Well—are you—will you be, uh..." he fought to phrase the potentially-awkward question politely, "Will you be going with anybody?"

Jordyn hesitated for a long while. "Well... Not really..."

Neal couldn't understand her hesitation. Normally his amiable friend would readily agree or disagree with a definitive answer; this balking and indirectness was totally unlike her. "What's going on, Jordyn? Have you already been invited by someone else? I mean, that's totally fine—"