Can't Stand Losing You

Rating:PG
Author's Notes: This one's a long'un.



So, I was stuck with my family on yet another vacation that my father affectionately, and incorrectly, dubbed “Family Bonding Experience Part 3”. Parts one and two had miserably failed at the hands of disease and disaster, respectively. This time, though, my father claimed that it was fool-proof and that it would be perfect for family bonding. He had booked us for a week in a villa in Montserrat, a place riddled with sun, surf, and scrumptious island boys (my father had said something different than the island boys, but I decided to fill in my own idea of fun.).
As soon as we set foot on the island, I had a wave of mixed feelings. I was disgusted at the though of spending a week with my parents and two younger brothers, but I was completely ecstatic to check out the beautiful scenery. The mountains stretched as far as I could see, and the water was the most beautiful shade of blue that I had ever seen.
We unpacked in about an hour (it took me this long because my little brothers kept sneaking in my room and stealing my stuff), then I decided that I wanted to hit the beach before dinner. I slipped on my bathing suit and put my towel under my arm. I slipped on my flip flops by the door, yelled to my mom where I was going, and slid out the back door. I walked past the pool (I could swim in a pool back at home, but I can’t swim at the beach), through the gate, and down the fifty foot path to the beach. There was no one in sight when I got there, so I spread out my towel and basked in the late-afternoon sun. Despite the fleeting sunlight, it was still rather warm, and I was feeling happy.
Suddenly, I heard voices to my left. I leaned up on my elbows and looked over. There, setting up volleyball net, was all three members of The Police, their manager Miles, and road manager Kim. I shielded my eyes from the setting sun so that I could be sure that it was, indeed, really them. I saw Stewart turn around and look at me. I didn’t know what to do: should I look away the way I would if it were someone in class, should I wave, or should I not do anything? Well, luckily I didn’t have to think about it much longer, since within a few seconds he was making his way over to me. When he got to my blanket, he squatted down to my height and extended his hand.
“Hi, I’m Stewart Copeland.” I shook his hand and smiled like a buffoon.
“Oh, I know. I’m Mary.” He smiled at me, and I melted. I had always had a bit of a celebrity crush on him, which was only made bigger when he flashed his goofy smile.
“Are you new here?” he asked and sat down on the beach next to me and crossed his legs. This, due to his apparent short bathing suit, gave me quite an interesting view.
“Sort of. My family and I are renting a villa for a week as sort of a ‘family bonding’ thing. We’re right there,” I said and pointed behind me to the villa.
“Oh, that’s a nice one. Mine is actually right there,” he said, pointing to the villa next to mine, “and Andy’s is next to mine, with Sting next to him.” I couldn’t believe it. I was vacationing on a beautiful island, with the boys of the Police next door to me. We heard Stewart being summoned to go play volleyball, and he got up from the sand.
“Hey,” he said, brushing the sand off him, “we have an odd number of players. Do you want to come play with us?” I smiled, and nodded my head. I don’t think that I could have gotten a cohesive word or sentence out of my mouth. He held his hand down to me, and I took it, hoisting myself up. When I reached standing position, however, I continued to move forward, and I crashed heard first into his chest. We both let out an “oof”, and I looked up at him. We started at each other for a few seconds before he was called again, and we had to separate and walk over to the net.
When we got there, Stewart introduced me to the others, and they all smiled warmly at me, with Andy waving like a fool. I smiled and waved back at him.
“Ok, we need to pick teams,” Miles said. “Stewart, come over here with me. You and I will pick teams.” Stewart went over to his brother and the rest of us subconsciously lined up before them. “I’ll go first.” Miles said and eyed us all. “I pick…Kim.” He pumped his fist in the air and went to stand beside Miles.
“Sting,” Stewart said, obviously going for height. I couldn’t think of why Stewart would pick him on any other occasion.
“Andy,” Kim said and we both looked at each other, a surprised look on our faces. Apparently, we had both thought that I was going to get picked.
“Mary, I would have chosen you anyway. It’s not because you’re last, I promise,” Stewart said apologetically. I shrugged, walked over to him, and put my hand on his shoulder.
“It’s ok, really. I was never very athletic as a kid, so I’m used to it. However,” I said, turning to the rest of them, “I am quite good at volleyball.” I grinned, and they all made fake “ooh, I’m scared” noises. We laughed it off, and Miles waved us over to the net.
“Ok, it’s three on three. We play to eleven. The outside boundaries have been marked in the sand by Andy’s dainty toes.” We laughed and said various deviations of “ok, let’s play.” Miles served the ball, and it came gracefully sailing over to our side. Stewart was on the left, I was in the middle, and Sting was on the right. I don’t know if they purposely separated themselves, or if it just happened this way. The game started off like a normal game, with both sides equally scoring. After about twenty minutes, the score was 7 to 5, them. Stewart had called a time-out for a game-plan huddle. We formed a circle, arms on each other’s shoulders.
“Ok, look, we can’t let them win this. We may have the height,” Stewart said, “But they seem to have the agility. Kim can zip around that beach like it’s nobody’s business. We have the power, as displayed by Sting-o’s killer arm muscles. However, they seem to have some sort of strategy, otherwise we would be winning. We have to get our heads in the game, people! Ok? Break!” he walked away from the circle with Sting and me looking very confused. We had no idea what the point of that speech was, but we went along with it. When we all resumed our positions, Kim served the ball. It went back and forth a few times with no real events. However, one time when it came our way, it was headed directly between Stewart and me. We dove for it, crashed mid-air, and landed on the ground. When I finally opened my eyes again, I was looking up right into Stewart’s green-brown eyes. He was lying on top of me, apparently which was right where he had landed. His curls had flopped down around his head and created a beautiful halo.
“Are…are you…ok?” he asked. I nodded and smiled.
“Yeah, I’m ok. We just collided hard, is all.”
“Oh, good. I’m glad you’re not hurt,” he said and laughed. I melted again at his goofy smile. He rolled off me, stood up, and helped me up again. We brushed ourselves off, and Sting picked up the volleyball. Once we were all situated again, he served the ball. Another ten or so minutes later, we had lost, 11 to 8. It was ok, because I had ample time to flirt with Stewart. We were kicking sand at each other, pushing each other out of the way, and laughing. It was obvious that I liked him, but I wondered if the others, if not Stewart himself, could see if he liked me.
“Well, good game, guys,” Miles said as him and Sting took down the net. “Same time tomorrow?” everyone nodded in agreement. “How about you Mary?” he asked me. I looked around from person to person and smiled. How could I turn down a volleyball game with them? I nodded furiously and told them that they could count on seeing me here tomorrow. They cheered and I smiled at them.
“Hey,” Stewart said putting his arm around my shoulder, “it gets dark in about an hour, so I was wondering if you wanted to take a little walk down the beach before it gets too dark.” He smiled down at me, but it wasn’t his usual goofy grin. It was one that made me go giggly even more than the goofy one; it was one that said “I have something fun in mind, I can’t wait, and I know you can’t either.”
“Yeah, that would be fun.”
“Good,” he said and walked me back towards my villa. “This is the more beautiful way, trust me.”
“Oh, I do.” I said smiling. We walked for a little bit in silence, just listening to the waves and the distant villa sounds.
“So,” Stewart said, finally breaking the silence, “Where are you from?”
“Massachusetts. It’s not even close enough to Boston to be cool,” I said sadly.
“Oh come on, it can’t be that bad.”
“Yeah, it’s not too bad. I guess it’s just a case of the grass is greener on the other side. I always wished that I lived anywhere else than where I am now.”
“Well, one day, you will be famous, then you’ll get to see all the places I’ve seen.” He smiled at me, and I returned the action. We stopped at a desolate spot on the beach, and turned to watch the sun set. He held me close, and I put my arms around him. We stood there, holding each other, watching the sunset.
“You know,” he said looking down at me, “I know we’ve only just met, but I feel something towards you that I have never felt for anyone else before.” He smiled, non-goofily, down at me. I suddenly realized that my celebrity crush on him had developed into a real, full-out love. He was adorable, funny, talented, and he liked me, too.
“I feel the same way. I think we definitely have something between us,” I said, and I ran my fingers up his chest. He leaned down, and I leaned up. We met around half way and kissed passionately on the lips. I heard waves crashing around me, but this time they were real waves. I always heard about people seeing fireworks or hearing waves at their first kiss, but this time, the waves were real. However, they may as well have been in my head, because the whole thing seemed surreal. When we finally pulled apart, the sun was almost completely set. We kissed a few more times before I told him that I should be getting back to my family. We were holding each other all the way back to my villa. The mood, however, was completely shattered when we saw my mother on the beach, talking to Miles, absolutely freaking out. When we came into sight, Miles pointed in our direction, and my mother spun around furiously. She came marching up to us, a fire in here eyes.
“Where the hell were you?!” she yelled at me. I subconsciously held on tighter to Stewart, half out of fear and half to use him as a shield.
“I…I…I went for a walk down the beach.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?!”
“I, I don’t know.” I said. She was enraged at me.
“And who is this man you’re with?! Do you even know him?!”
“Yes, mother, I do. This is Stewart Copeland. He’s the drummer in the Police.”
“A musician?!” she exclaimed. I had forgotten that she shunned any relationships with musicians in the family after a guitar player broke her heart in the forties.
“Yes.”
“And if it makes a difference,” Stewart said, “I like your daughter, a lot. And she likes me. I would never cause her any harm, if that’s what you’re afraid of.” My mother’s emotions didn’t change at all.
“Well, I’m sorry to say, but you won’t be seeing her again. Mary, get in the house. You’re not leaving the house at all for the rest of the week.” I threw an absolute fit. I cried, I clung to Stewart, and he clung to me. Sting even came over to try to reason with her, but it did nothing. She ended up dragging me away by the arm as I frantically waved to Stewart. I think I saw a tear in his eye, but I can’t be sure.

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For the rest of the week, I was kept inside the villa. I was allowed to go out to the pool to swim and sunbathe, but that was because it was fenced in. From time to time, I would see Stewart walk by the front window, looking to catch a glimpse of me. I would see him walk by, but my father would always be sitting next to the window, so I couldn’t get over to wave to him. One day, as my family was all on the beach, I heard a soft knock on the front door. I walked over to the it, and opened it to find Stewart standing there. I immediately enveloped him in a giant hug, and he kissed me square on the lips. We held each other for a minute before he urgently pulled us apart.
“Come away with me,” he said, looking right into my eyes.
“Where? Go with you to where?”
“England. We finished the album, and we’re going back to England to remix it, then we’re going on tour. Please, come with me. I can’t stand to be without you. I guess you could say, I can’t stand loosing you.” We both chuckled, but it couldn’t lighten our mood.
“I can’t. My mother would legally disown me, my father would stop talking to me, and plus, everything I own is back in Massachusetts.” He looked sadder than a little boy who had just broken his new toy. I hugged him again, and he held me tight. He kissed the top of my head, stroked my hair, and then he lifted my head so he could kiss me on the lips. Just then, my mother walked into the room. She dropped her water bottle that she had come in to refill.
“Get out of my house you creep!” she yelled at him. She picked up the nearest objects she could find and started throwing them at him.
“One day,” Stewart said, covering his head and walking out the door, “I’ll find you! I promise, one day I’ll find you!” when he walked out that door, I didn’t believe that he would ever be able to find me. I never told him my last name, or my town. How would he find me? I hoped, though, that he still would.

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Twenty five or so years later, I was standing in the front row at Fenway Park. It was 2007, and the Police had gotten back together. The whole show, I was as close as humanly possible, and I was watching Stewart’s every move. I thought that he saw me once, but I didn’t know for sure. He was older of course, as was I, and he had glasses, as did I; who knows if he saw me or not.
One thing was for sure, though: my friend’s brother-in-law was the head security guard, and he promised to get me backstage. So, when the show was done, I went right over to him and gave him a big hug. He looked around suspiciously, then quickly ushered me to the backstage area. He got me to the dressing room door, and then walked away, leaving me to my own devices. I knocked on the door, and I was told, by Stewart of course, to come in. When I walked in that room and I met eyes with Stewart, we both broke down and ran into each other’s arms. We were crying tears of joy and hugging like the world was crashing down upon us.
“It’s been decades!” he exclaimed, kissing me on the forehead.
“I know! I’ve missed you so much! Every time your songs come on the radio, I cry, thinking about how much I’ve missed you.” We sat down on the couch, and we spent two whole hours catching up. We both found that we were currently single, and we decided to date, like we would have way back then. I went on tour with him, and we were just like it was back on the beaches in Montserrat. There was one distinct difference, though: my mother wasn’t around.