Chapter 6
April 21-22, 2008

Skye carefully steered the Ferrari up the bluff and headed over to John’s house. On the way, she passed the large white structure of Casa Diamandi, the Spanish tile on its roof still radiating from the day’s heat. She didn’t see any cars in the driveway, and prayed that nobody was home.

She cruised down the street and pulled up to the closed gate, turned into the driveway and hit the intercom button. God, I hope he doesn’t think I’m a stalker or something.

“Hello?” A male voice acknowledged her ring.

“Hi, uhmmm…this is Skye…Diamandi…the photographer…from last week?”

“Oh, hi! Hang on a second.”

Skye watched as the gates rolled back and she pulled past the gates and toward the house. She heard a car pass behind her in the street and then heard the gates roll shut again.

She pulled up to the front door and found Carl Mayer waiting for her.

“Hi, uh…Carl, right?” Skye cut the Ferrari’s engine and opened the door of the car, stepping out into the entry.

“Right. John is otherwise occupied right now, but come on in. It’s great to see you, Skye…what brings you back out here?”

Skye noticed that Carl and John shared the same brown eyes and dark hair. It was easy to see that good looks ran in the Mayer family, but Carl lacked his younger brother’s charisma and animal magnetism.

“Oh, well, I took a few pictures of John and Ari, and I happened to be in the neighborhood, so…I thought I’d bring them by.”

Carl looked at her semi-suspiciously. “You…were in the neighborhood? This is a little out of the way to be just in the neighborhood, don’t you think?”

“Well, my in-laws live three houses over that way, up the bluff…and I was down on the water’s edge, getting some sunset shots. So yeah, I was actually just in the neighborhood.” Skye smirked, knowing she’d bested Carl.

“Well, I can’t speak for my brother, but I can say that I’m very glad you’re here.” Carl’s eyes sparkled and he took a couple steps closer to Skye.

Skye shifted a little and Carl could tell she was a little uncomfortable. He turned his attention to the Ferrari. “This is a freakin’ hot car, you know that?”

“Yeah, it belonged to my husband.”

It was just then that Carl put two and two together. In-laws…husband’s car… He caught a quick glance of her left hand and confirmed his suspicions. Married. Damn. Too bad.

Carl shifted his weight and just stood there. Skye nodded her head at Carl, and said “Carl? Can you tell John I’m here?”

Carl shook himself out of his mind-drift and looked at Skye. “Oh…sure. Come on in.”

Skye followed Carl in the front door, grabbing her purse and the photos from the front seat. She stayed in the foyer as Carl walked up one side of the double grand staircase, yelling for his brother.

“John! Hey, John!!”

Another male voice from somewhere on the second floor wafted out. “Dude, what? I’m giving Ari her bath!”

“You’ve got company, bro!”

“Who is it?”

“Just get out here!”

“Almost done in here. I’ll be down in a second.”

Skye could hear giggles and splashing, and John and Ari’s voices carrying through the house. She continued standing in the foyer until she heard John yell “Sprite! Get back here!!” Skye saw Ari streak across the landing and head straight for the stairs, her wet hair tumbling down her back, a pink bathrobe flying open as her tiny feet and legs sprinted down.

“Gramma! Gramma Gramma Grammaaaaaaaa!!” Ari’s high pitched voice called across the house and soon an older woman, tall and graceful with gray hair, entered the foyer and caught Ari as she lept into her arms.

“Now Ariel…is this any way for a princess to act?”

“I’m not a princess today, Gramma, I’m a fairy. And fairies fly,” Ariel said, her tiny voice confident.

“Alright then, Miss Fairy-Ari…where are your pajamas?”

“Gramma, fairies don’t wear pajamas!”

Skye couldn’t help but giggle at Ariel’s comment- it sounded exactly like something Mandy would say. Up to this point, neither girl nor grandmother had noticed Skye standing in the doorway, apparently abandoned by the elder Mayer brother.

“Oh! I didn’t know we had company!” The older woman exclaimed, hugging Ariel close. “Are you a friend of Carl’s, or..?”

“No, actually, I’m a photographer.” Skye held her hand out to formally greet the woman. “Skye Diamandi.”

“Maggie Mayer- John and Carl’s mother. Nice to meet you, Skye. I take it Carl left you here?” Maggie reached over to shake Skye’s hand.

“Yes, he did….I was just-“

“SPRITE!!!” John bellowed from the top of the stairs, and Skye couldn’t help but look up and laugh as John descended, his long legs taking the stairs two at a time. He was drenched in bathwater.

Maggie regarded her son. “Looks like you lost the water fight.”

“Ariel Margaret…you...”

“Are a very smart little girl who knows how to get her Daddy’s goat.” Maggie finished John’s sentence, giving him a bit of parenting advice at the same time. She leaned over to pat her son’s shoulder. “Ari, did you splash Daddy?”

Ari nodded affirmatively. “Yeah. Again and again, but because I was a mermaid, and he was gonna be like a big sea monster and I was swimming away, and the Little Mermaid has the same name as me!”

Ari dug her head into Maggie’s shoulder, looking up to her grandmother pleadingly with wide violet eyes. Maggie addressed her granddaughter. “Well, I think you need to say sorry to Daddy for splashing too much. And Daddy, I think you need to remember that it’s just water, and people and clothes both dry.”

Ari’s soft voice again, “Sorry, Daddy.”

“Me too, Sprite. Sorry for getting so mad.” John took Ari from Maggie’s arms and surrounded the little girl in a hug. He kissed her cheek and asked her, “Do you want me to help you with jammies, or do you want Gramma?”

“Gramma!”

Maggie nodded at John as he let Ari down onto the floor. “Okay, Sprite. Go get your jammies and brush teeth, and then we’ll do bedtime. Song or story?”

“Song!!”

“Okay.” John rumpled Ari’s hair and gave her a loving pat as she joined hands with Maggie and started upstairs. John’s eyes trailed them until they were out of sight. Skye didn’t dare interrupt- she was transfixed by the family scene in front of her. Ari was clearly in love with her father, and John had eyes for no one else. That’s as it should be, thought Skye. I wonder what happened to her mother.

John, still soaked from head to toe, turned and saw Skye for the first time. Wow, she looks even better than I remember. He could feel his heart flutter a little as she smiled at the scene that had just played out.

“Hey…Skye, right?”

She laughed a little. “Right.”

“How are you? I mean…what are you doing here?”

“Well, I didn’t mean to interrupt your family time, or Ari’s bedtime, I know how important routine is to little ones…”

“No, no…not at all. Come on in, make yourself at home.”

John led Skye into the family room where he and Ari had played Pretty Pretty Princess on the day of the shoot. “I’m sorry, I hate to abandon you again but I’m drenched. I’ll be right back.”

“Fair enough.”

John raced upstairs and quickly changed into dry jeans and his favorite vintage Hendrix t-shirt, ran a towel through his hair, and looked in on Maggie and Ari. Ari was snuggled in bed, and Maggie was finishing up reading a story book to Ari, who had just spied her father in the doorway.

“Daddy, song!”

“Okay, Sprite. Just one quick one though.” John doubled back to his bedroom and retrieved his acoustic, then settled himself on the floor next to Ari’s Japanese-style low bed.

“Alrighty. Ladies’ choice tonight. What should we sing?”

“Little Mermaid!” Ari clapped and giggled, knowing that John would never turn down her request for her favorite Disney tune.

“Well, I’ll leave you two alone…goodnight, Fairy-Ari.” Maggie kissed her granddaughter goodnight, and grinned at her son, rumpling his hair as she walked out of Ari’s room and turned the light off behind her. In the soft glow of the nightlight, with the moon shining down on Ari’s face, John began to softly strum and sing.

Look at this stuff. isn't it neat?
Wouldn't you think my collection's complete?
Wouldn't you think I'm the girl, the girl who has everything?

John watched as Ari’s eyes flickered closed, but kept singing. He knew she’d wake up if he didn’t finish the song.

I'm ready to know what the people know
Ask 'em my questions and get some answers
What's a fire and why does it - what's the word? Burn?

When's it my turn? Wouldn't I love, love to explore that shore up above?
Out of the sea…wish I could be…part of that world…

John leaned over and kissed Ari’s cheek, gently brushing a tendril of hair away from her face. Her breathing was deep and even, he knew she was out for the night. “’Night, Sprite…my Ariel bright,” he said, using the words he’d said to her every night they were together. He rested one hand on her small shoulder, and looked out the window at the moon and stars. John wasn’t a religious man, but he believed in God, and he silently said the one and only prayer he relied upon every day since the day she was born.

Dear God, Protect her, and help me be the best father I can be for her. That’s all I ask. Amen.

Downstairs, Skye had melted into a puddle listening to John play his daughter to sleep. When John reappeared, Skye couldn’t hide her admiration for him. It only served to make her attraction to him even deeper, and she could barely keep her focus on the conversation. She had made herself comfortable on an overstuffed chair, and he sat on the sofa, as close as he could get to her. His own stomach was fluttering, but he too, had noticed the gold band on her finger.

“So, sorry for all that- the Mayers are normally a more hospitable group. But, Ari’s down for the night, so we can visit for awhile.”

Skye nodded. “You are so good with her.”

“I try very hard. She’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“I understand completely. I would be lost without my kids.”

“Matt, right?”

Skye nodded. “Yes, that’s my boy. And-“

“Mandy is your daughter.” John completed her sentence for her.

“Boy, you do pay attention- very good.” Skye was impressed.

“So what brings you back here, Skye?” Her name rolled off his tongue smoothly, and he probed her face, looking her directly in the eyes. He could see a strong woman, independent and determined. She reminded him of his mother, and his grandmother before her.

“Well, I shot a few pictures of you and Ari the other day, and I developed them, since they were on film. I thought you might like a couple copies for your collection.” She handed him the envelope with the pictures, and he took it from her, curious to see what she had seen through her lens.

John studied the photos with intent, running a gentle finger across the image of his daughter’s face. He was clearly touched by Skye’s gesture.

“Skye…” his voice grew soft and he could tell he might have to choke his words out to avoid tears.

Skye watched for his reaction, hoping for the best. She started to say something about how she hoped he liked the pictures, but he beat her to it.

“These…are amazing.” John was stunned at the simple beauty of the black and white prints. He couldn’t take his eyes off of them. He looked up at her, and he could see beyond her sapphire eyes, knowing his complement meant more to her than anything else. This was clearly a woman who loved her medium.

“Thank you so much, John. I’m so glad you like them.”

“Like them? I love them. Best pictures that I’ve ever taken with Ari.”

“Takes a good subject to make a good photo, you know. I caught you off-guard, and that lends itself to the emotion in the picture.”

“These-these are mine? To keep, I mean?”

“Yes, of course. These are the only copies, and I have the negatives, so they won’t be published unless you give your permission. I can understand you’d want to be protective of her.”

“I guard her very carefully. Media frenzy is too much for kids at this age. Though that’s going to change this summer, unfortunately.”

“Why? What’s this summer?”

“I’m going on tour in about a month. Ari’s old enough now- she’s about to turn five-so she’s coming with me.”

“Where’s her mother?” It was a legitimate question, but John’s eyes clouded over, and Skye immediately sensed she’d hit a nerve. He stayed silent for a moment, and she backpedaled.

“I’m sorry…none of my business. I’m sure Ari will have a great time with you on the road.” Skye stood, prepared to excuse herself. As she did, John grabbed her right hand.

“Don’t leave, Skye. It’s been a long time since I had someone beyond my family to talk to. I could really use a friend right now.” John looked up at her, and she noticed for the first time that his eyes had a pleading quality. He was genuine. He wouldn’t try to ply her with drinks and get her into bed like some of the rockers she’d known. He just wanted to talk.

Skye knew how loneliness could be- she’d experienced it firsthand since Nick died. She also knew that a musician’s life could be both stressful and depressing- she had seen enough musicians get bored, then get high, then slip down the slope of addiction and depression. Somehow, John seemed above all that, but she thought that it probably wouldn’t kill him to have some adult company. Probably wouldn’t kill me either. And since I don’t have to worry about the kids tonight…

“Okay. I’ll stay.”

John and Skye talked and talked, into the wee hours of the morning. They discovered they had a tremendous amount in common, including parenthood, tastes in music and their background in the music industry. Since the kids were roughly the same ages, they swapped stories about early baby days, mistakes all new parents make, and of course, potty training. Skye had John in stitches when she described trying to teach Matty how to pee standing up, and how Nick had tried to get Matty to aim for Fruit Loops and Cheerios floating in the toilet.

John’s brash, high laugh was music to Skye’s ears- she had never heard such a pure sound come from a grown man. She watched him gasp with laughter and began to imagine him next to her in bed, laughing at the type of inside jokes only couples can truly appreciate.

Skye told John about the twins’ first steps- they had shared everything up to that milestone. “So Mandy pulled herself up and started to walk a few steps- she was holding onto one of those push-cart toy things, you know? Well, she just took off- walking like it was absolutely nothing. Matty looked across the room and had this look on his face like ‘where’d she go? And why’d she go without me?’ I’ll never forget it. So he just pulled himself up and took off after her- it was the ultimate case of sibling rivalry, I think. Unfortunately he didn’t have anything to push, so he got about three good steps before he took a face plant right into the carpet. Bam.”

John had smiled at her story, but the laugh was gone. Something had stirred in him. Skye turned to him and said, “Of course, Nick was out of town for the whole thing. I got video of them walking, but it wasn’t really the same.”

John was looking down at his shoes. “I was gone for Ari’s first steps, too. I was gone for so much of her early life, and then Angie…well, the divorce, and…” John halted and Skye turned toward him.

“It’s okay, John. You don’t have to say anything more than you want to.” Skye tried to put John at ease. Instinctively, she placed a gentle hand on his knee. At her touch, John felt the flutters return. This girl is something special, he thought.

John looked at her with a cocked eyebrow and said sarcastically, “You probably read all about it in the tabloids, anyway.”

“No, honestly-“ said Skye. “I didn’t even know who you were until Rolling Stone gave me the photo shoot job. I mean, I’m sure I’ve heard something of yours on the radio, but I’ve been out of the scene for so long, you know. Besides, my world is kinda like a bubble- pretty hard to understand there’s a world beyond Calle Ocho and Little Havana sometimes.”

“But you’re not Cuban, are you?”

“No, but my husband’s family is, and they are very traditional.” That’s an understatement, to say the least, she thought.

“So you don’t know anything about me?” John looked incredulous.

“Well, Bev played one of your records for me the other day. Beyond what you’ve told me, not really. I could probably make a few guesses, based on your life here, but...”

John looked at Skye with a coy smile on his face. “Okay.”

“Okay, what?” Skye’s words trailed John as he stood, walked over to the open kitchen and pulled out two wine glasses.

“Okay, guess. Tell me my life story, Skye Diamandi. Red or white?”

Skye sighed and said, “Red, please. And no- it’s your story to tell. Your life.”

John returned with a bottle of cabernet and the glasses. As he poured, he spoke. “So I tell you mine and you’ll tell me yours?”

He handed Skye a glass of wine and held his up to hers. They clinked glasses and she agreed to the bargain. “Sure. Fair’s fair. Shoot.”

John began by explaining how he met Angie. She was a graduate student at Georgia State University, earning her master’s degree in English. “We got married way too fast- she graduated and then joined me on the road, just as my first album started to take off. It was bad timing all around. We had fun on tour, moved to New York. She was lonely for her friends, and she never really made friends with any of my bandmates’ girlfriends or wives. She tried to get a job teaching English, but the touring schedule was too much to balance with a job. Once we got pregnant with Ariel, things changed.”

Skye noticed how he said “we” when mentioning the pregnancy, but didn’t call it to his attention.

For John, the 2003 Grammy Awards were the pinnacle of his early career. He entered the theater as an unknown, a kid with a guitar and thousands of touring miles under his belt; he left a superstar and a Grammy winner. It was also on this extraordinary night that John received an even better recognition: he found out that he was going to be a father.

“She told me she was feeling sick, had been for a long time, which is why she didn’t go to the ceremony with me. I got back to the hotel really late that night, and found her asleep in bed. I went to the bathroom to get ready for bed, and found the pregnancy test in the trash.”

“I fished the test out of the trash can, and I just remember sitting on the edge of the tub, staring at that little pink plus sign. I looked myself in the mirror and said it out loud, over and over: ‘John, you’re going to be a father. John, you’re going to be a father. It was the most amazing thing I’d ever experienced. Of course, I couldn’t sleep after that, so I stayed up all night, reading parenting websites, learning everything I could about what was going on in there, you know? I hated not being able to call my parents…but I knew I had to at least wait until morning when we could both call everyone together.”

Skye watched as his eyes lit up at the memory of that unforgettable night, and then watched as they clouded back over at what happened next. He continued the story. “Before she woke up, I ordered room service, a big fancy spread with a flower arrangement, the works. I figured that I’d made a little money by then and we deserved to celebrate. When the cart came, I set up the Grammy and the pregnancy test on the cart. She smelled the food and started to wake up, and I told her I knew about the baby. I thought she’d be happy about it, but as it turned out…she was not excited about becoming a mom.”

“What do you mean??”

“Well, the test was in the trash- and when we went to the doctor to confirm, she found out she was almost four months along already. And she hated being pregnant- she was so sick all the time, and we were on tour, so it wasn’t easy. I probably put more pressure on her than I should have, but I couldn’t help it- I wanted to be there for everything. I didn’t want to miss the baby’s first kick or come home after a month to discover that Angie had grown more. We found out the baby was a girl, and I was so thrilled- see, my family has a history of boys that goes back generations deep. The whole family was over the moon.”

Angie had accused John of smothering her; he accused her of being selfish. They found themselves growing further and further apart. Finally, the stress of touring and fighting was too much for Angie, and she went into premature labor, delivering the baby almost eight weeks early. Fortunately, John was able to be there, and Ariel was small but healthy. Angie seemed to be happy to be done being pregnant, and she returned to her old self for a few precious days.

“I cancelled part of the tour to be with them, and we had the best time for those first couple weeks. We got the name Ariel from Shakespeare- you know The Tempest?”

“Of course. Read it in high school.”

“That’s where it comes from. It fits her too- she’s so into fairies and fantasy characters. She’s also kinda small still, from being born early. Her mother was a bit waifish anyway, too.”

“Time came for me to go back on the road and it nearly killed me. Angie agreed to come back out with me and bring the baby, and we did our level best to be a family. But it didn’t work. It never worked. So I sent them home.” The pain of regret strained on John’s face.

He continued, telling stories of hearing about Ari’s growth over the phone, and not knowing what was really going on. He flew home one weekend after Angie mentioned that Ari almost walking. He had missed so much and was determined not to miss another milestone. He never forgot that day. Never. He walked in and surveyed the disturbing scene: Ari was on the floor crying hysterically, face, diaper and clothes dirty; bottles, cups and old food littered around the room; a pot boiling on the stove -- hot water hissing and steaming on the burner; and Angie, collapsed on the couch. John’s heart stopped. He picked up Ari and bounced her a little to quiet her as he checked on Angie. She was alive, her pulse was a little weak; he picked up the phone to dial 911, when he saw it…her hand mirror, a twisted dollar bill, two out of three lines of coke snorted.

“She had turned into someone completely different, and I wanted so desperately to fix her, to bring the old Angie back. But she was gone forever.”

John’s eyes had a faraway look, and Skye could see the pain and regret that tortured him inside. He finished Angie’s story.

“She went to rehab, we filed for divorce. It played out in the paper and except for a good lawyer, she nearly wiped me out. And she got Ariel, because the court was somehow convinced that my touring would make me an unfit parent. Last Christmas, I found out from a friend of a friend that she had been partying again, so this past winter I petitioned the court for custody. Ari is mine, full time, until at least the end of August.”

“What happens then?”

“Angie and I have to go back to court – she had to go back to rehab, I have to jump through hoops while I’m on tour. If she’s successful, we share joint custody. If she’s not, and I can prove myself to the court, Angie’s parental rights are terminated and I get Ari permanently.”

“Think she can do it?”

“I don’t know, Skye. But the thought of Ari going back to her mother full time scares the hell out of me. Angie never wanted to be a mother, and she takes that out on Ari. But she goes to court and plays the martyr, and gets what she wants. Trust me, the system is slanted against fathers.”

“Things will work out, John. I know they will.”

John sighed heavily, his eyes heavy from the late hour and his storytelling. Skye glanced over at the clock: 3:02AM. She started up with a panic. “Oh! Oh, my God- I have to get home!”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“My nanny agreed to stay overnight with the kids, but I promised her I’d be home before they woke up. That means I gotta go.”

“Skye- why don’t you just crash here? We’ve been drinking, and I would hate to see that Ferrari fall off the Rickenbacker due to poor judgment. And even worse, I’d hate to see you go with it.”

Skye contemplated John’s words, and wasn’t sure how to respond. Her face betrayed the question in her brain, and John spoke up.

“Look, this place has like, a million bedrooms. Take the downstairs guest room. It’s right through there.” John pointed to a small door at the end of the hallway.

“Get a few hours sleep, and go home when it’s daylight out. If nothing else, you’ll make me feel better.”

Skye looked at John and realized that she had made a friend that evening. A good friend. He was nothing to be intimidated by; he was nothing she couldn’t handle. Sure, he was a rock star, but after the guitars got put away and the crowds dissipated, he was just John Mayer, devoted father and doting son, annoying brother and kindred spirit.

“Thanks, John. I appreciate it.” John stood and offered her his hand. She took it, and it was remarkably smooth, with the exception of the tell-tale guitarist’s calluses on his fingertips. He helped her up, and immediately enveloped her in his arms, giving her one of the most genuine hugs she’d ever experienced. She hugged him back, drinking in his smell, memorizing the way his lithe body felt under her hands. They hung onto each other for a few quiet moments, and she thought she could feel his heart pounding against his chest.

He leaned down and smelled her hair- mangoes and peaches. The smell sent him into orbit, and he wanted so desperately to kiss her. Easy does it, John. You’re in no position to complicate things. Besides, she’s married…

Skye reluctantly disengaged herself from John’s embrace, and gazed into his eyes. “I’m gonna go crash now. Thanks again. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight…hey, Skye?”

“Hmm?”

“I told you my story, so when do I get to hear yours?”

“Tomorrow afternoon. Playdate. I’ll bring my kids over and we can have a sandcastle building contest. Ari could use some friends, right?”

“Absolutely. Good idea.”

“Go to bed, John. I’ll see you later, okay?”

“’Kay. Goodnight.”

John turned and headed up the stairs, knowing that Skye’s sapphire eyes were watching his every move. Her face had betrayed more than friendship, and he knew his had too. As he collapsed into his bed, he pictured her sitting in the family room, a glass of red wine in her hand, gesturing and laughing. He fell asleep with a smile on his face and Skye on his mind.

*********

Skye slept a few precious hours, but she awoke to the sunrise and saw that it was around 7:00AM. She slipped out of the guest room, and left a note on the counter for John:

J-

Thanks for letting me crash. We’ll be back after lunch and naptime for our playdate, probably around 3pm. Call me if anything changes: 305-362-7593.

See you then.

-Skye

She quietly let herself out the front door and reacquainted herself with the Ferrari. She started the engine, which purred quietly under her command as she eased out of John’s driveway. The gates opened via motion sensor, and she headed out of the neighborhood and back over the bay toward home. She had woken up with a smile on her face, and it had not erased itself. She turned on the radio and found the jazz station, floating away on a cloud, John’s smell still in her nostrils. Skye was blissfully unaware that from behind two windows in two houses, she was being watched.

John heard the gate open, and peered out of his window just in time to see the Ferrari pull away, Skye’s blonde hair lifted by the wind. He smiled and collapsed back into bed, grateful that he’d have another chance to see her later that day.

From the open French doors on the balcony of the family compound, Joe Diamandi had a clear view of the courtyard of the old Diaz estate, three doors down the hill. He watched the familiar blonde head of hair exit the front door, climb into his brother’s Ferrari, and drive off toward the causeway. He had noticed the unique sports car last night in the driveway of the house as he and his parents had returned from dinner out in Little Havana. He recognized Nick’s vanity plate. There were so few of them made, and the Maranello was a standout, even in Miami. He knew his brother’s car.

That little bitch, he thought.