When We Meet Again

*****

Mr. Henley was pottering around on the underside of a really old model T Ford when Meaghan came in carrying a package and a paper bag of food. Rock music was blaring from the speakers as per usual and his apprentice was on the other side of the shop dressed in coveralls and a mask, doing a paint job on a vehicle. He waved briefly at her and she lifted her hand back; her fingers being too full of stuff to actually wave.

“Hey Mr. Henley,” she said stopping in front of the car. He rolled out from under it and grinned up at her.

“Hey Meaghan, what brings you by here this fine morning?” he asked.

“It’s actually noon and I brought you something,” she said.

Mr. Henley visibly brightened as he stood up, “You did? Let’s see it then.” He said reaching out. Meaghan placed the package in his hands but held on to the food. Mr. Henley peered into the bag inquisitively then reached in and extracted the vinyl record; a copy of U2’s first album; Boy. The look on his face almost brought tears to Meaghan’s eyes.

“There’s more,” she said voice quivering.

“Oh dear God what more could there be? This is more than enough. What’s the occasion anyway?”

Meaghan shrugged, “The occasion is I have some money now. Go on, hand back in the bag.”

Mr. Henley reached in and pulled out two tickets…to a U2 concert, VIP all access tickets. He was shaking his head already.

“I don’t care how much money you have little girl; ain’t no way you afforded these,” he stated.

“Oh that’s the best part. I actually got the tickets free. They were forwarded to me from the clinic in Aspen. From a grateful patient apparently. I figured it’s high time you and me did that U2 thing now that I’m old enough to go without supervision.”

Mr. Henley didn’t say anything but Meaghan understood anyway.

*****

“Is that what you’re wearing?” her mother asked her critically the day of the concert. Meaghan looked down at her black jeans and guns n roses t-shirt.

“What’s wrong with it?” she asked.

Her mother shrugged, “I dunno. Maybe the fact that you look like a homeless heavy metal crack fiend,” she said. “A black homeless heavy metal crack fiend,” she amended.

Meaghan laughed, “Mom it’s a U2 concert not the Opera. I think I look fine,” she assured her. “Besides ain’t no homeless person afford this leather jacket,” she continued running her hand lovingly down the garment. She and Mr. Henley had found it one day in an old music shop. It was said to have once belonged to Jimmi Hendrix.

Meaghan’s mom snorted but said no more about it. The sound of Mr. Henley’s truck drawing up outside distracted them from the potential argument and in a moment he was knocking on the door.

“Coming,” Meaghan called hastily slipping on the jacket and reaching for her blue heels. Her mother just shook her head and went to let Mr. Henley in.

“You guys enjoy yourselves,” she called as they left. Mr. Henley had been dressed in a very similar manner to Meaghan vindicating her fully in her own eyes she thought as she widened her eyes at her mother. The only difference was he had a bandanna around his long gray hair while hers was combed all around her face like a giant curly black halo.

“Thanks mom. We’ll bring you the t-shirt,” Meaghan called as she closed the door to the passenger side of the truck. She was curiously excited about this concert. Of course it was the first opportunity she had to see U2 in concert and that could account for it, plus she had all access VIP tickets which could account for the tingling in her fingers and toes but still…it was curious how excited she was. She got her phone out to text Bain and let him know where she’d be for the next few hours. She hadn’t told him the source of the tickets in case he made a bigger deal of it than it was or worse, didn’t make a bigger deal of it.

How many patients even knew of her love of rock music anyway? It wasn’t like she was busy having intimate chats about her personal life with them as she administered to their injuries. There was only one patient who she was sure knew about her penchant for rock music. And if he’d sent the tickets, maybe this was his way of saying ‘thanks but no thanks’ or ‘asta la vista baby’ or whatever it is guys said when they weren’t sufficiently invested to actually talk to you but didn’t want to appear like the di*ks they were by sugar coating their rejection with gifts. It had been three weeks since he’d said he was going to Ibiza and there had been no word from him. Not so much as a text. Why Meaghan even continued to hope she had no idea but she just felt like this could not be the end. Besides Bain said that there was a rift in the family the rumors of which had not abated. So maybe he was just dealing with family drama and that’s why he hadn’t called. It didn’t necessarily mean…

She thought back to their make out session in the car. He’d wanted to know if it would tingle when he touched her. He’d said it had. Was that enough for him? Just the knowledge? From the way he’d been, so desperately turned on, she’d have said no. but what did she know about guys? That TA had managed to hide his wife and kids from her. Anyway, if he only wanted her for her body; did she really want him?

They arrived at the concert just in time for the opening act. An all girls group Meaghan had never heard of. They had some good beats and they hyped the crowd up quite effectively. When U2 finally came on, Mr. Henley and she were good and ready for them.

What with the shouting along with the words and the (apparently) complimentary champagne and strawberries, the time flew by and before they knew it, the show was winding up. Both of them were not ready for the party to end and when the concierge informed them that the ticket entitled them to attend the after party where they might meet the band and God knows who else they didn’t even have to exchange glances to know that they were definitely going. The after party was being held in the hotel at which the concert was held, on the roof. They rode up the elevator escorted by the concierge who had the pass key to open the elevator to the rooftop. The party was already in full swing when they got there and Mr. Henley made a beeline for the bar where he’d spotted someone who looked like Dolly Parton sitting all by her lonesome.

She wandered around just watching people, soaking in the atmosphere; hardly able to believe she was here. The champagne was still singing in her blood or maybe that was just the music. Either way she felt like she was on a cloud just floating gently in the sky. When she saw him, she figured that of course her beautiful daydream would have incorporated him. After all he was her original source of castles in the air.

“Hi,” he said, smiling at her like he hadn’t disappeared for three weeks without a word.

“Do I know you?” she asked him loftily not deigning to look at him.

His face fell, “I thought since you’d accepted my gift you’d forgiven me for my di*k move disappearing like that,” he said.

“Oh your gift was it?” Meaghan said. Okay she’d suspected it but to have it confirmed like this was unexpected.