Chapter Eleven

            That night before bed I decided to indulge in a long, leisurely soak in the sunken Jacuzzi tub.  I needed to relax, to revaluate what the hell was happening with me, and moreover the tub had been beckoning to me from the moment I arrived.  What made the idea even more appealing was the breathtaking view of Lands’ End from the floor-to-ceiling windows of the bathroom.  The windows gave me that sense of being an exhibitionist without worrying that people would actually see me. 

            I lit a couple candles, turned off the lights and between the flickering of the flames and the bright light of the half-moon in the black velvet sky, I shed my clothes and settled into warm, watery bliss with the sea below me as a soothing soundtrack.

            Three weeks into my commission and I was still on schedule more or less.  Miki’s costume was finished and would suit the flamboyant frontman to the letter.  All I needed for Kei’s were a few more satin roses running down the cropped waistcoat.  Chris’ outfit had caused me some worry at first because he was a drummer and I’d seen how brutal the man was on his massive kit.  There had been one concert back east where he’d nearly collapsed from heat stroke after almost two hours of nonstop pounding in ninety-degree-plus-eighty-percent-humidity weather.  I decided to create a second set of pants modeled after the Visual Kei style of shorts attached to a pair of flared leggings.  Having black roses run along the attached garters would look pretty sweet.

            I started thinking about accessories and concluded that only silver would do.  On that score I needn’t have worried.  The guys wore enough silver between them to start their own business.  Still it would be cool to have rings sculpted like roses in full bloom adorning their fingers.

            Problem number two—Shane.

            In spite of all the evidence, I was still having a hard time wrapping my brain around the fact that Shadowside was really haunted and that I’d seen Shane’s ghost more than once.  That he’d touched me and moreover, left palpable tears on my fingers.  There was this weird sense that Shane was trying to reach out to me, and in some strange way perhaps even defending me.  After all, he’d run both Jessie and Kei’s father off.  If he was trying to communicate, what did he want and why me?

            Problem number three and the biggest—Kei.

            The comfortable foundation that I’d long since established in terms of relationships was in danger of shifting beneath me and I didn’t like it.  For the first time ever, I was beginning to doubt myself emotionally.  A mere three weeks in his company, under his roof and the wall I’d erected to keep my personal life in a separate sphere was starting to show cracks.  I knew Kat would be thrilled about that, but I was not.

            Just because I wasn’t an incurable romantic didn’t mean that I didn’t believe in love at first sight.  I just believed that love was something which took time, effort and a lot of patience to coax into full bloom.  I also believed in not confusing the need for sex with forming some unnecessary emotional attachment.  Kei and I could be friends who just happened to sleep together and that was perfectly fine by me.  No, he wanted more and I had no idea why.  A month ago I was just a face on a website and a voice over the phone.

            On the other hand, I could easily imagine what it must be like for people to constantly throw themselves at him just because he was Kei Matsuya, bad boy rocker and not Kei Matsuya the man.  Maybe it wasn’t totally beyond the realm of possibility that he liked me and my blasé attitude about his stardom.  Still, the fact of the matter was I needed to get laid—preferably soon and preferably by him—or I was going to go apeshit.

            For a moment I considered heading out to one of the many hip and trendy bars either in the Marina or SoMa.  It wouldn’t be too hard to find a hot, decent-looking single guy who wasn’t gay and who would be up to a one-night stand.  If Kei pitched a bitch (and something told me he would), I’d just lay the blame on him being a pussy tease and that since I was no longer horny, I could continue my work in somewhat relative peace.  Unfortunately the thought of some stranger who was not Kei putting his hands on me filled me with as much sexual excitement as a root canal.  I didn’t want anyone but that fucking mercurial pain-in-my-ass rocker and that sucked big time.

            Somehow I was just going to have to be more aggressive in getting what I wanted.

*

            The next afternoon while I stitched away as Kei sat in his usual perch, this time with his acoustic, his cell phone rang.  I chuckled.  The ring tone was ‘Aces High’.

            “What’s up Miki?”  Silence, then, “Sure she’ll come.”

            Kei put the phone on speaker. “Hey you hot babe,” Miki practically shouted as I watched Kei’s reaction and gained a certain amount of feminine satisfaction from his apparent jealousy.  “I know the old punk forgot to mention my private record release party this Saturday night, but you’ve gotta be there ‘cause my lady wants to meet you.”

            A party sounded like fun, especially a party with Dominion’s End.  I could just imagine all the drinking and debauchery that might ensue and I was all about the debauchery part.

            “Count me in,” I said.  “Oh, is there a dress code or something?”

            Miki snorted.  “As long as you don’t come naked I don’t care.  Although from what I’ve seen of you, I’d be more than willing to bend that rule.”  They both heard an “ouch” then a chastened laugh on the other end.

            “Knock that shit off,” Kei warned.  “Why the fuck are you trying to hit on my woman again?”  I gave him an arched look as if to say when did I become his woman?

            “You know how he is Kei,” came another voice, this one smoother and most definitely female.  “He’s a total horndog and yet he wants to marry me.”  She sighed theatrically.  “Oh, and I’m Akemi by the way.  I’ve heard a lot about you, Eva and I can’t wait to meet you.  Besides, I really hated that snobby slut you were with before.”

            Whoa, I thought with a laugh.  Tell me how you truly felt.  On the other hand, Jessie Chastain wouldn’t be winning any Miss Congeniality awards anytime soon. 

            Although she was just a voice, Akemi sounded like a woman after my own heart and I could tell that in spite of Miki’s flirtatious ways, she was the woman who owned his heart.  Just maybe she’d help me make some sense of Kei by filling in the blanks.  There was nothing better than girlfriend gossip to get the real story, or at least the good stuff.

            While Kei and Miki continued acting like two overgrown and over hormonal teenage band boys, I started thinking about what to wear Saturday.  I’d never been to a record release party, though I’d done a few meet and greets before or after a show.  When all else failed, a little black dress would work, but I was Eva Vincent and well, I designed costumes.  So…perhaps it was time for me to show off my skills and give Kei Matsuya a damn good look at what he could have in his bed.  Or on the breakfast nook.  Or out in the garden.

            The first thing I needed was a trim and a new hair color.  I hadn’t been blonde in a while, and I knew just where to go for both.

*

            “You know, I’m perfectly capable of getting around on my own.”

            Kei steered his wet dream of a car with one hand as he gave me that tilting of his lips which, depending on his mood, could be either sultry or noncommittal.

            “Humor me and stop being difficult okay.”  That wasn’t the reaction I was expecting and it puzzled me a little.  I wondered if Kei’s self-imposed celibacy was finally getting to him.  If so, he had no one else to blame but himself.  I’d given him an out.

            We drove down Geary Boulevard, then made a right on Divisidero Street headed towards the Fillmore District which borderlined the Haight.  I’d made an appointment with Kat’s cousin Gavin at his barber shop.     

            Ellington’s Tonsorial Parlour was located in the predominantly black and working-class Fillmore District.  Like most historic neighborhoods, gentrification was slowly creeping in, pricing many of its lifelong residents out of the market, but like most neighborhoods in San Francisco with deep and strong roots, the people who’d been there before the young, hip and moneyed weren’t going without a fight.

            The shop itself was a storefront inside a renovated Victorian which had been willed to Gavin by his great-grandfather, and which had caused all sorts of drama.  Five years ago when he opened his shop, I’d helped him design the 1920’s-styled suits worn by the employees.  It hadn’t taken long before word of mouth and a few glowing magazine features had made Ellington’s one of the best places in San Francisco for grooming and the clientele were as quirky as the owner.

            The gods of parking must have been with Kei because a car pulled away from the curb right in front of the shop.

            There was a chess game going on in the front of the shop as two nattily dressed young black guys—one with reddish dreds, the other completely bald—were hunched over the board, their intensity replacing any need for talk.

            I opened the door and was greeted with the smooth strains of classic Count Basie as I was instantly transported back to the Harlem Renaissance as men and women did their magic with clippers and shears, conversations held in muted and respectful tones.

            “Eva!”

            A tall, muscular man with waist-length locs threaded with feathers and shells unwrapped himself from his barber’s chair.  Gavin’s smile was huge as he gave me a warm, familial hug.  Two leather armbands adorned each bicep and each ear was pierced with large silver hoops.  Just as Kat was the sister I never had, Gavin was my equally kooky and iconoclastic brother.  The three of us had been amongst the small number of black nerds at our high school, our brains and fashion sense caused us to stand out like sore thumbs.  They both spent more time with my parents, who were far more accepting of their idiosyncrasies than their own.

            Contrary to conventional wisdom, Gavin was straight, very happily married to Lita, a fellow geek vampire gamer chick and they had a teenage daughter who’d adopted me as her aunt.

            “Kat told me what you’re doing up here…after she told me she’d married Dragon.  Man, you missed the Blaine family fireworks!”

            I laughed. “I can well imagine.”

            Gavin’s face told me he’d be glad to fill in the gory details as he took a long, assessing look at my head and he was not impressed.  “Well it’s about time you came to see me.  How long has it been since your last trim, girl?  They did a crappy job of tapering the back.”

            Gavin was critical of any barber or stylist who didn’t know how to properly shape a woman’s cut to fit her face.  His skill was such that he was even popular with lesbians who wanted to go short and tough but sexy.

            I gave him a wicked grin. “That’s why I’m here.  I need a new look for a party and who else would I trust but Kat’s crazy cousin?” 

            “Yeah, I guess compared to the rest of the family, I am a little crazy.”  Gavin grinned back, his canines shaped like vampire fangs.  Another reason why the Blaine family thought he was a heathen, outside of the fact that he was Wiccan of course.   He then looked over at Kei and extended his hand which he shook warmly.  “You want a haircut too, man?”

            Kei’s eyes narrowed but seeing Gavin’s teasing look merely shook his head.  “Not in this lifetime dude, but thanks for the offer.  Besides, Eva likes my hair.”

            Gavin said nothing but I could read the look in his eyes and I wanted to smack Kei.  Instead, I plopped down in the barber’s chair and Gavin raised it, then draped a black smock around me.

            “So, I want to go blonde, Gav, but not just boring blonde.  I need something that stands out big time.  Can you do that?”

            “Oh yeah,” he nodded with cocky self-assurance.  “I’ve got just the shade.  I call it ‘blonde as fuck’.”

            “Hey,” shouted one of the barbers over to the side.  “That’s another quarter, man!”

            Gavin looked sheepish as he fumbled into his pockets for the change and I watched him drop the quarter into a huge pickle jar full of coins.

            “It’s our ‘cussing jar’,” he explained.  “Every time someone swears, they have to put a quarter into the jar.  As you can see, it’s almost full.”

            I looked at Kei.  Kei looked at me.  We both knew if it were up to us, that jar would be full at least three times over.

            Kei plopped himself down in one of the leather loungers, folded his long legs and set to wait as Gavin worked his magic.  I watched him listening to the classic jazz and it seemed wheels were going around his head.  I relaxed into Gav’s ministrations while subtle conversations ebbed and flowed around me.  A mixture of races and ages and genders sat in each of the chairs, being expertly and impeccably groomed.

            As Gavin applied the lightening mixture to my hair, he filled in the fireworks show better known as the Blaine family.

            “They found out a week later because Erika went snooping around Facebook and found her sister’s update plus the pictures from the wedding.  At least the ones they could show since she and Dragon got married butt naked.”

            “Oh man, I know they had a sh-stuff fit,” I caught myself remembering the ‘cussing jar’ just in time.

            “Sweetheart, that’s putting it mildly.  My momma called asking if Kat had said anything to me about getting married and I told her she hadn’t, which was true.”

            “And I didn’t know about it until she called me at ComicCon.  I’m surprised her parents didn’t call me.”

            His hands were quick and soothing over my scalp.  “Well, once the news got out in church…and you know how church folks can spread gossip faster than the internet.  The entire congregation of The First Missionary Baptist Church had an opinion about Kat and by extension the whole damn Blaine family.  Next thing I heard, Auntie and Sister Shaw did a UFC in the church parking lot and auntie snatched Sister Shaw’s thousand-dollar Malaysian-hair weave out of her head.”

            My eyes widened then I started cracking up.  “Damn, I hope someone You Tubed that catfight!  Hmm, I guess Kat’s family is going to have to find a new church.”

            “Oh hell yeah they are, but of course it’s all Kat’s fault for not being a ‘good little black Christian girl.’”  Gavin snorted at that.  “And already Erika’s going into full guilt-trip mode on me.”

            I rolled my eyes.  “Like you had anything to do with it but that’s so like drama-prone Erika.  Again I say it’s a wonder you and Kat managed to break away from all that insanity.”

            “Oh my god!  Oh my god, you’re Kei Matsuya!”

            A tall, skinny teenage girl with perfectly clear wine-dark skin and a head full of wild, spiral curls stood goggle-eyed in front of Kei.

            “Carmilla, don’t bother the man,” Gavin admonished her but the girl was rooted to the spot.  Kei gave her one of his warm, million-watt smiles and I could read her like a book.

            Gavin nodded in the young girl’s direction.  “She’s a huge fan of Dominion’s End and when I told her “auntie” was designing their costumes, she damn near screamed the house down.  I think that’s why she started playing guitar.”

             Carmilla ignored her father while bouncing up and down, excitement running up and down her teenage frame.  “I saw you at the Cow Palace two years ago for my birthday!  I can’t believe you’re like right here!  All the rest of the dumb kids at my school like all that crap that’s on the radio ‘cause they don’t know real music!”

            “Carmilla Wilhelmina Blaine, get over here now!”  Gavin didn’t yell, but his deep voice carried over the shop.  Just as she was about to shuffle dejectedly over to her irate parent, Kei nodded his head silently.

            “It’s okay man.  Hey, I don’t get to meet many of my younger fans so it’s cool.”

            Carmilla looked up hopefully at her father.  Gavin’s stern face morphed slowly.  “All right, but behave yourself.”  She gave her father that look genetically hardwired into teenagers everywhere when given that warning.           

            While Kei and a rapt Carmilla chatted, Gavin chuckled, “You realize that me and her mother are going to be hearing about this for the next two weeks?”