“Jesus it’s cold,” you manage through trembling lips. You shove your mittened hands into the pockets of your coat, pulling it tightly around you as you accompany Dave down the sidewalk to the taxi stand outside O’Hare. The wind whips through your hair just as he opens a car door for you and helps you in. The heat in the cab is a relief at once.
“Where to?” the driver asks, flipping the switch on his fare light.
“Four Seasons, please,” Dave answers as he turns the collar down on his coat and shakes off some of the cold. Looking out the window, you bite your bottom lip slightly and raise your eyebrows at the thought of staying at the Four Seasons. It was a famous name and notoriously expensive, most certainly not a place you would have ever dreamed you’d be staying.
Dave peers out the back window to make sure everyone in the rest of the group has managed to get cabs. They hadn’t booked a van this time, but had arranged for the crew to pick up and attend to their instruments and equipment for the night. There is no one left standing on the curb as you pull away and Dave turns to you with a satisfied look on his face.
“Well, you were right about Chicago being cold. It will be a little warmer during the day. Maybe.”
“I’m good,” you say in a cheerful tone, wriggling your toes inside the warm boots you’re glad you’d packed when you’d left The Whelk. “I’m kinda excited about staying at the Four Seasons. Most of the time when I travel, it’s Holiday Inn Express all the way. And you’re lucky if they have the free continental breakfast. I always manage to break the waffle maker and end up with a heat lamp warmed cinnamon roll and a tiny plastic cup of apple juice instead. Oh – and then there are the scrambled eggs that obviously came out of a carton. Those are kind of… ‘ew.’”
He looks at you with a furrowed brow and a toothy grin, half amazed and half amused. “I learn so much more about you every day.” You laugh and shake your head. “How do you manage to break the waffle maker?”
“I am kind of disaster waiting to happen in the kitchen. That’s why I let you cook.”
“Good to know. We’ll let room service make the waffles from now on.”
Dave hands the cab driver a fist full of cash as a young valet opens the car door. He obviously recognizes Dave and can’t seem to wipe the grin off his face. “Any luggage?” he asks, closing the door behind you. Dave smiles back at him.
“It was delayed. The airport should be bringing it to us soon. Any chance you could take care of that for us when it gets here?” He holds out some cash, but the young man refuses with a wave of his hand.
“No tip necessary. But I’d take a handshake. You’re kind of my hero.”
Dave enthusiastically shakes his hand and grins. “Kind of? What the fuck does that mean, kind of?” You love watching these kind of encounters, seeing kids meeting someone whom they idolize and learning he’s as good a guy as they thought he was. This remains one of the most endearing things about Dave. He’s genuine and honest and kind. He cares about his fans and he lets them know he does.
“You’re the reason I took up the drums, man.”
“You have a band?” He sounds genuinely interested. The kid is beside himself.
“We’re trying to. We mostly just fuck around in Jamie’s garage – he plays guitar. Sarah sings.”
“A female lead singer? Nice! What’s your name?”
As their conversation continues, the rest of your group pulls up to the hotel one by one, each of them getting out and retrieving their luggage. The airline only failed to put yours and Dave’s bags on the plane on time. The kid sees the rest of the Foos walking up to the hotel and looks back and forth between them and Dave.
“You’re all here?!” he asks excitedly as Dave calls them all over to say hi. You hang back with Alison while they carry on.
“I vote we wait for them in the lobby,” she chatters, the porcelain skin on her face turning visibly red in the cold night air.
You can barely get the word “agreed” out of your mouth before you both hastily duck into the revolving front door. They guys appear only a few moments later, followed by the ecstatic valet who is taking care of all the luggage. He is pushing a trolley in front of him while pulling another one behind.
“Taylor, what is WRONG with you?! Why would you let that poor boy carry all that on his own?” Alison scolds. Taylor looks shocked and defensive.
“It’s my job,” grins the boy. “And they’re the Foos! I consider this a privilege.”
“At least give him a big tip,” Alison murmurs, cutting her eyes up at you and smirking.
The suite is enormous. It is, in fact, much bigger than the one in Austin. Not necessarily better, just bigger. Both you and Dave peel off your coats immediately and you hang them in the spacious hall closet by the door, inhaling the clean smell of cedar and lavender. A large brass framed mirror is mounted inside the door and you catch sight of your windblown curls and make an attempt to smooth them down before inspecting the next room. Meandering into the kitchenette, you open the fridge to find it fully stocked.
“Goody. There is a truckload of beer in here,” you call out in a flat tone. “Why is there always beer but no chocolate cake? Or bacon? Who do I have to have sex with to get some bacon up in here?!” You hear him snicker from the next room.
You follow the sound of his laughter through a small archway into the living room. Much like the Austin suite, there are two sofas facing each other separated by a coffee table, with a huge, flat screen TV mounted on the wall at one end. You have a quick flashback to the first night you and Dave spent together, each of you lounging on your own sofa and falling asleep watching TV.
“This brings back a memory,” he says softly. “Wanna break a lamp? Or the shower rail? I’m buying...”
“Big spender,” you tease. “We just got here!”
“And?” he asks seriously.
Giggling, you back away from his advances, nearly toppling head over heels over the back of one of the sofas. He grabs you just in time, simultaneously sliding both hands underneath your sweater. You squeal in shock.
“Oh my GOD your hands are freezing!” He is now giggling along with you.
After a quick fumble, he holds your face with both of his hands, but you no longer notice whether they’re cold or not. “Guess what?” he asks softly.
“We ARE in Chicago. And you’re making your documentary.” He has a look of wonder on his face. It is hard to fathom that he is as excited about the situation he’s found himself in as you are about the one you’ve found yourself in. The difference is: his incredible talent got him here. You’re here via pure luck.
“I haven’t seen you this excited since you played with John Paul Jones. It’s beautiful.”
“I could not be happier… than I am right now.” He searches your face just before kissing you deeply. He is gentle but passionate, acting out of love rather than lust, his hands still cradling your face, his soft hair falling across your cheeks and neck. No one has ever kissed you like he does. Not even Chris.
‘Chris,’ you think to yourself. ‘Why am I thinking about Chris right now?’ There is no reason on this planet why he should be a part of what is happening right now. You sweep him out of your mind immediately and give Dave a huge squeeze.
“I love you,” you tell him, burying your face in his neck.
“I know,” he teases. You chuckle but don’t lift your head.
“What time are you interviewing Mr. Guy tomorrow?”
“Mr. Guy. That sounds so weird. Oh God. Should I call him Mr. Guy, or Buddy? I hadn’t even thought about that! Fuck.”
Laughing loudly, you take a step back, marveling at his panic. “Dave Grohl Problems,” you manage with a roll of your eyes. “Just be polite. You’ll be fine. Do I really need to tell you this?”
He doesn’t seem to hear you, but suddenly remembers your question. “Um… he’s supposed to be there about 10:30 tomorrow morning.” He heaves a sigh. “I need sleep. I’m nervous and tired. And it’s past my bedtime.” He looks apologetic. “Will you be pissed if I don’t rock your world tonight?”
“Like you could,” you answer with a wave of your hand. “I’m tired too. You can give me a raincheck. Let’s crash.”
“You won’t be in the way,” he exclaims, sounding confused. “As long as you don’t talk during the interview, it’ll be fine.” You tilt your head to the side in sympathy. “What if I need coffeeeeee?” he whines.
“Ask Justin. He’s your coffee bitch, not me! I still feel like Yoko, sitting on the floor and watching everything from a corner. Besides, Alison asked me to go shopping with her and I’ve already said yes.” You are both touched and tickled that he seems to want you to stay so badly. “And I need a few more warm clothes.”
“That’s true.” He chirks up, takes his wallet out of his pocket and hands you a stack of cash. “Buy something sexy.”
“Jesus, Dave, I’m not looking to buy a house!” You’ll need to clean out your handbag just to make room for all the bills. “How do you sit on this?!”
“Just buy what you want. We agreed on this, remember? Buy what you want and, if there’s any left over, bring it back to me. How’s that?”
“Yes, dear.” He kisses you on the forehead.
“Now get the fuck out of here. I’m about to interview Buddy Guy and I don’t need you watching me freak out.”
You shake your head at him and step into the hall to find Alison waiting for you.
“Hello, lovely,” she smiles, looking as beautiful as ever. “Ready?”
“Let’s roll. Show me Chicago. Forward, shop!”
The cold hits you both with a shock as you step outside of the hotel and onto the street. “Let’s see,” breathes Alison, her breath forming a smoke cloud as she speaks. “You said you needed warm clothes. Anything in particular? Sweaters, jeans, shoes?”
“Some of everything, really. Dave said for me to buy something sexy. I’ve been thinking… I don’t have a nice dress. I’d love to have something pretty to wear for him. He’s never seen me in anything other than denim and t-shirts. Will you help me do that? You always look so nice.”
“Ah, you’re sweet. Of course! We have all day. We’ll just work our way up and down the street until you find what you want. Just don’t forget, we have other cities to visit. Austin has good shopping too.”
“According to Dave, I also need shoes. He finds it weird that I own four pair. I left most of them at home as they are my old lady funeral shoes.”
Alison guffaws at this. “Yes, we deffo must find you some shoes. Who has four pairs of shoes?! That’s unheard of!”
“Well, I spend most of my time on the island barefoot. It doesn’t get cold there.”
Alison looks at you blankly. “Okay, whatever. It’s changing.” You both laugh.
Three hours later, you’ve not bought a thing.
“Penny. Honey. You’re KILLING me. You’ve tried on like ten things that look GREAT on you! What the fuck?!” Alison sounds exasperated, but playfully so.
“This stuff just isn’t me, Ali. I guess I’m just a jeans and tee shirt kinda girl. I’d rather have a new pair of NIke’s than a new pair of cute heels. I can’t walk in those things anyway. And dresses make me look awkward.
“They do NOT. You look beautiful in that one!” You’ve stepped out of the dressing room wearing a sleeveless, brilliant blue fit and flare dress with a deep plunging neckline that is both simple and elegant.
“I love this, but I feel ridiculous.”
Alison smiles with pity. “You look stunning, but if you are uncomfortable, by all means don’t buy it. If you feel uncomfortable, you’re going to look uncomfortable. Rule of thumb.” You start back into the dressing room to change but stop suddenly and look at yourself in the three-way mirror once again. “It really is a pretty dress,” you say, twirling from side to side and checking out your profile.
With a small smile, Alison nods vehemently. “Either I’m wrong and you can feel uncomfortable while looking comfortable, or you’re more confident about that dress than you admit.” Popping up from her fancy, plush chair, she checks the price tag dangling from your waist and collapses back into her seat with a disgusted sigh. “It’s $50.00, Penny. That’s nothing. And you look gorgeous in it. The neckline is perfect for you. Dave won’t know what to do if you show up with cleavage exposed. If you don’t buy it, I’ll break your arm.” She smiles sweetly and you don’t know if you should be flattered or afraid. “You asked for my help…,” she reminds you.
You quickly duck away from her beautifully evil smile and screw up your face as you study your reflection once more. “You really think he’ll like it? I don’t want to waste his money. It’s not exactly warm… and I’m not sure my Nike’s will go with it very well. I’ll need new shoes...”
She gives you a look of contempt.
“Fine!” you nearly yell as you scurry back into the fitting room to change.
After getting dressed in your own clothes, you re-join Alison. You are a little frustrated and ready to call it a day for shopping.
“Should we head back to the hotel and see how it’s going?” you ask hopefully as the sales girl hands you a carry bag with your new dress inside. The thought of beginning a search for shoes makes you weary on the spot and, quite honestly, you want to see what Dave thinks about the dress before you invest in shoes to match.
“Want some help with those,” you tease Ali as she begins to collect what appears to be a dozen or more shopping bags filled with her own purchases.
“Shut up,” she smirks and you both head back out into the cold, windy city.
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