All I Need

Joe Elliott plopped down into his stylist’s chair. “What should we do this time,” Mark asked as he ran his fingers through his hair. He held up a small section close to Joe’s scalp. “I think it’s time for a touch-up. Your roots look terrible.”
Joe looked into the mirror. About two inches of dark brown faded into the golden blonde length. “Cut it off.”
Mark’s eyes widened to the point of popping from their sockets. “What?”
“You heard me.” Joe gripped the arms of the chair so he could readjust his bodyweight. “Just cut it short. We’ve finished the tour. I want a change.”
“What about your color?” he asked, utterly amazed since he had been dying Joe’s hair for nearly twenty years.
“Leave it.” He watched the man’s reflection in the mirror. “Relax man. It will grow out and you can make me blonde again before the next album comes out.” Mark’s expression eased and Joe chuckled at his reaction.
Almost an hour later, Joe stared into the face of a man he vaguely recognized. This is perfect, he thought to himself. He rose from the chair, paid Mark what he owed and headed out to execute the idea he’d been harboring for months.
* * *
2 weeks later
Somewhere in the Midwestern United States~
Joe knocked on the door of an older, yet well-kept white house in a tree-lined suburban neighborhood. He was told the home was owned by a widow who let out the upper floor rooms as her sole source of income. The brunette who finally answered was much younger than he had expected. “Vera Cleavland?”
The woman shook her head. “She’s not here.”
“Oh.” What was he going to do now? Malvin said he would call ahead for him. “Um...she should have received a call to expect me.”
“Well, Mr...”
“Joe Ell...” What was he doing? The whole point of this trip was to not be Joe Elliott for a while. “Joel,” he stated, figuring he’d be safer to stick with what he had already uttered than raise questions by changing it now. He looked down, his mind racing through surnames when he noticed it staring him in the face ~ Ian “Hunter.” Joe extended his hand to her. “Joel Hunter.”
“Well, Mr. Hunter... Vera didn’t say she was expecting anyone before she went out, but you are welcome to come in and wait for her. She should be returning soon.”
Joe accepted and was led into a wood paneled room with large windows and old furniture.
“The television remote is on the end-table over there,” she pointed to the left side of the floral-print sofa. The woman looked at her watch. You shouldn’t have to wait longer than twenty minutes. She’s always home by four.”
Joe stood in front of the sofa and turned to the woman in the doorway. “Thank you, Miss...”
She stopped mid-turn from the room. “Wallace. Tatum Wallace. Now if you’ll excuse me...”
* * *
The elderly woman continued to run over the house rules as Joe followed her up the stairwell to his room.
She slipped the key into the lock then flipped on the light for her new tenant. Mrs. Cleavland pointed out the clothes closet and storage cabinet in the room. “There’s an ice box you can keep drinks and snacks in,” she told him. “You can use the kitchen downstairs for cooking anytime. All I ask is that you clean up after yourself.”
Joe set his bags down at the foot of the bed and smiled to her. “I don’t do much cooking.”
Joe could have sworn Vera’s eyes lit up at this. “Well then, you just let me know and I’ll set an extra plate at suppertime.”
He chuckled. “I’ll do that.” Joe looked around the room, taking in his new surroundings. He wanted different. This definitely fit that description. “What’s through there?” he asked, nodding to the oak door behind the entrance.
Vera turned the knob and pushed it open, showing Joe what was inside. “The commode and a sink. Just through the other door is the tub. You’ll be sharing it. I hope that’s not a problem for you?”
“No, no…that will be fine,” he assured her. Joe moved back across the room to where Vera stood. She handed him the keys. “Thank you Mrs. Cleavland. Everything will be just fine,” he flashed his dimple as he grinned.
The woman smiled up at him. “Well Mr. Hunter, I’ll let you get settled in. You come down around seven, supper should be ready by then.”
Joe thanked her again and closed the door behind her. After a quick shower and short nap, a hot meal sounded just like what he needed.
* * *
“He seems like a nice young man.”
Tatum turned from the stove to the woman setting the table. “Young man? Vera, he’s older than I am.”
Her eyes twinkled as she smiled back at her. “But he’s younger than me. By my math, that makes him a young man.”
Shaking her head with a chuckle, Tatum turned her attention back to the green beans, dumping them into the colander at the sink. “I just find his reason for being here suspect.”
Vera pulled out a chair and sat. “Why do you say that, dear?”
“I just don’t believe a guy from England would come here for a vacation. New York or Las Vegas, yes. Even California or Florida, some where touristy like that, but not to the Middle-of-Nowhere USA. He doesn’t strike me as the type who’s into pioneer days or the western front of the American Civil War.” Tatum stirred the butter into the warm beans then carried the bowl over to the table. “For all you and I know, he’s a serial killer who’ll murder us in our sleep.”
“Tatum...”
She raised her brows at the glare her landlady gave her. “Okay, so he probably isn’t, but we don’t know anything about him.” She sat across from Vera. “We can’t be too careful about strangers in this day and age.”
“Tatum,” Vera repeated softly.
She stopped and stared at her. “What Vera?”
“When you were by yourself in a new city, wouldn’t you have appreciated having someone to help you get accustomed...show you the ropes?”
“Yes,” she answered slowly. “It would have made life so much easier.”
A knowing smile formed on the old lady’s face. “You should keep that in mind.”
* * *
It was nearly three a.m. when Joe heard a loud noise out in the hallway. Flipping on the light and opening the door, he found Tatum crouched down in the landing. The contents of her purse were scattered on the floor and she was muttering to herself.
“Need help?” Joe squatted down to retrieve a lipstick that rolled into his doorway.
She held out her hand to accept the tube from him. “Thanks.” Glancing over her shoulder, she noticed her was clad only in a pair of baggy shorts. “Sorry for waking you so late.”
Joe shook his head. “No, no. I was still awake, listening to the radio.”
Having retrieved her belongings and returned them to her bag, Tatum stood. “Seriously?” she asked, familiar with the choice of local stations this time of night. “You’d do better going down and watching TV.”
“I didn’t want to wake Mrs. Cleavland.”
“Vera won’t mind, trust me,” she assured him with a smile. “If you’re into clubing, you should head down to Westport.”
“Perhaps I will, once I learn my way around town,” he replied politely. “Speaking of which,” he waited as she turned to the task of unlocking her door. Tatum clicked the lock and pushed it open. She then looked back at Joe, signaling him to finish his question. “I need to find some type of transportation, and I wondered if there was someplace in particular you would suggest?”
* * *
“Hey Tate,” the man gushed, holding his arms open to her as she got out of her car. Joe shut the passenger door of the black Honda Civic and followed cautiously behind her.
She smiled to the man as she pulled her sunglasses up to her hairline. “Jimmy, this is my neighbor, Joel Hunter. He’s in need of some wheels.”
“Jim Miller,” he introduced himself as he shook hands with Joe. “Nice to meet you Joel. Always delighted to do business with a friend of Tatum’s.”
Joe smiled and nodded to him. With a quick glance at Tatum, he saw her roll her eyes at the sales man’s banter. He answered a few questions as to what he was looking for, then he and Tatum followed Jim into the lot of cars.
They walked the length of the dealership, looking over every vehicle Jim thought Joe might be interested in. All of them were okay, and he liked several of them, but none were that ‘must have’ vehicle. That is, until they came to a ’96 mustang in the back.
As Jimmy was regaling them with the merits of it’s speed and handling, Joe turned to look behind them and found the exact car he was looking for. “This is it.”
Jim stopped, turning to Joe as he approached the red Jeep Wrangler that had seen better days. “Um,” he stammered. “That is one of our trade-ins. I can’t sell you that one.”
Joe’s shoulders straightened as he looked Tatum’s friend in the eye. “I’m not buying any other vehicle off this lot,” he stated firmly.
Wide eyed, Jimmy looked to Tatum for help. She simply shook her head and gave a small shrug. He rubbed a hand over his beard-covered jaw, thinking of some way to dissuade him. “Our mechanic hasn’t had a chance to look it over.”
“Then you’d better get him out here,” was Joe’s reply.
“I don’t believe our credit depart…”
Joe cut him off before he could continue. “I don’t need to finance the bloody thing. Just tell me how much you want for it and get me the keys.”
Jim again turned to Tatum. “You heard the man Jimmy,” she said with a chuckle. “Perhaps a test drive first, then Henry can make any repairs it might need?”
Joe smiled at her. “That sounds perfect.”
* *
“Good lord Tatum,” Jim handed her a cup of coffee as she sat in the office waiting for Joe to return with the mechanic. “Where on Earth did you find this guy?”
“He showed up on my doorstep,” she quipped.
“I’m serious,” Jimmy growled.
“So am I.” She sipped the lukewarm liquid. “Uhh, this has been sitting a while, hasn’t it? It’s awful,” she set it down on his desk and looked out the window, seeing Joe and Henry walking back from the service garage. “He showed up the other afternoon at Vera’s and rented the room across from mine,” she explained. “He asked me where he could get a good deal on a car, and I thought you would appreciate the business.”
Jim slanted a glance at Tatum, to find her looking at him with an angelic smile. “Oh, all right,” he sighed heavily. “Damned if you don’t always do that to me.”
Tatum’s expression turned into a broad grin. “Wouldn’t be any fun if you didn’t let me get away with it,” she laughed at him.
Jimmy shook his head before turning to greet Joe again as he entered the office. “Find everything to your satisfaction?”
“Yes,” Joe nodded to the salesman.
Henry followed in behind Joe. “It’s surprisingly in good condition. Previous owners kept good care of her.” He scribbled a few notes on the clipboard in his hand and then gave it over to Jim. He then noticed Tatum sitting on the corner of Jim’s desk. “Hey babe,” he winked at her, causing her to blush. “Wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
Tatum smiled back at Henry. “Just getting’ someone fixed up,” she said with a gesture to Joe.
Henry looked back at Joe. “You’re friends with Tater-cakes here?”
Joe tried not to chuckle as Tatum covered her face in embarrassment. “We’re neighbors.”
Henry nodded and turned to make his way to the door. “It was nice meeting you. Probably see you around sometime then,” he added before exiting the room.
“Well then,” Jim clapped his hands together, breaking the silence that had followed the mechanic’s leaving. “Shall we get the paperwork started?”
* * *
Nearly a week had passed since he bought the jeep. After making sure he could find his way back to Vera’s from the dealership, Tatum took off and he hadn’t seen her since. Joe couldn’t help wonder if she weren’t avoiding him on purpose.
* * *
Friday morning, Joe woke to pounding at his door.
“I know you’re there Joel. Open up!” Tatum yelled as she beat on his door again. Joe glanced at the clock and she hollered again. “Get off your ass and answer the door!”
He got up, slipping on the pair of jeans from the foot of his bed and moved to open the door. “It’s bloody-fucking early,” he growled.
Tatum stood in the landing, wrapped in her worn bathrobe, clutching a set of towels to her chest. “Yes, I know,” she stated as her eyes bore into him. “Some of us do work for a living.”
He stared at her, dumbfounded. It was either too early, or he was too asleep to think of a comeback. “Why wake me then?” he managed to spit out in his dazed state.
“I tried to get into the shower, but the door is locked,” she explained.
“Oh, sorry,” he uttered. Joe ran a hand through his hair as he watched Tatum glare at him. “I’m still getting used to having two ways into the bath.”
“Think of this as an incentive then,” she said with an overly-sweet smile. “You remember to unlock my door, and I won’t have to wake you at the crack of dawn.”
Joe grinned sleepily. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He pulled the door open wider and allowed her into his room. Tatum stepped inside, following him into the bath.
“Thank you,” she nodded as he held the door open for her. She turned back to him, grasping the doorknob in her hand. “You look tired Joel,” she said softly. “You should get some sleep.” Tatum smiled, then she closed the door in his face.
“Nice seeing you again too,” Joe muttered as he heard the clicking of the lock.
* * *
As Joe closed the last of his email form Malvin, a message box popped open on his screen.
Hey there handsome
Are you lonesome tonight?
Joe growled at the unwanted proposition. FUCK OFF he typed back and closed the box.
He decided to check out Bowie.net to see if there was any new news from David. Reading the transcript of his latest fan chat, the IM box appeared again.
Such pretty talk
Joe started to type his reply when the next message came up...
Don’t you remember that morning in Zurich?
You – me – a pot of blueberry syrup
Joe’s brows creased as he read the cryptic message. “What in the...” he uttered in the empty room. “Blueberry syrup?” He looked closer at the id name. SLOWHAND57. Why should that ring a bell, he wondered.
Collen, is that you?
LOL Wondered how long it was going to take you
bloody wanker Joe typed. I thought you were one of those cyber freaks looking for someone to talk dirty to them
Just wondered how you were doing, so I asked Mal for your screen name
Snugglepantz - very cute, roflmao
Joe rolled his eyes. He knew he would never hear the end of it once the band learned his id. Mal set up the account. He felt it was something the fans wouldn’t figure out. He was going to have to have a LONG talk with their tour manager when he saw him next. I would have preferred something not so...childish
Snagglepuss would have been more appropriate LOL
He could almost see Phil sitting at his computerwith tears in his eyes, laughing. and I repeat - FUCK OFF
Okay, Okay, I’m sorry
What did you want anyway, it’s late
Just checking up on you – no one’s heard from you
Joe reached over to the fridge and opened the door to grab a beer. He popped the cap off the bottle, taking a drink before responding. I’m fine DAD. Which I’m sure Malvin told you already.
He said you were outside Kansas City,
but wouldn’t get more specific
“Thank you Malvin,” he nodded at the screen.
So, anything of interest out in the middle of nowhere?
A long pause passed as Joe debated whether or not to answer. He took another long pull off his beer.
What is her name?
What makes you think there’s a woman?
You want a list?
Very funny
Since when do you not confide in your band mates?
Leaning back in his chair to stretch, Joe sighed heavily. Her name is Tatum. She lives in the flat across the hall.
I’m all ears.
Not much to tell
What do you mean?
Joe shook his head as he typed Exactly that. I met her the day I moved in. She was kind enough to help me find a car to get around in. And this morning, she lit me up for locking her out of the WC, before slamming the door in my face.
My kind of woman LMAO
You haven’t used the ‘Elliott Charm’ on her?
She has no clue who I am
WHAT?? How does she NOT know?
Because I told her my name was Joel Hunter
I see
There’s something about her I can’t put my finger on
Have you asked her out?
Not yet – no idea what she’s interested in TO ask—
When she IS at home, she’s very quiet
Well, you know what they say about the quiet ones
* * *
A couple hours and several beers later, Joe had to go. Literally. He said good night to Phil, logged off, and headed to the loo.
Standing in the small, dark room, he could hear the faint strains of music coming from the next room. He must have left the radio on after his shower. He pulled the door open, intending to turn it off when he froze in his tracks.
Candles flickered on the vanity counter, reflecting soft light across the room to where Tatum reclined in the cast iron tub. Her contra-alto voice sang in perfect harmony with the recording.
“Everywhere someone’s getting over. Everybody cries and sometimes, you can still lose even if you really try. Talking ‘bout the dream like the dream is over. Talk like that won’t get you nowhere. Everybody’s trusting in the heart, like the heart don’t lie. But that’s all that I need, someone else to cling to; someone I can lean on until, I don’t need to. Just stay all through the night, and in the morning, let me down. Cuz that’s all that I need right now.”
The gentle sloshing of water jolted Joe from his trance. Joe jerked the door back, leaving an opening just wide enough he could still see her. He knew he shouldn’t watch as she bathed, yet he couldn’t force himself to look away.
Tatum lounged a while longer, singing along to another song before rising from the tub. Joe felt an involuntary tightening in his groin as he took in the full view of her backside. The soft glow off her wet skin was more erotic than anything he could think of in that moment.
She reached out in front of her, stretching to grab her robe off the towel bar. She slipped on the garment before she turned, preventing him from eyeing anymore of her supple body. Tatum moved to the sink, where she took the pins from her hair so that it fell over her shoulders and combed her fingers through to remove the tangles. Finally, Tatum blew out the candles and switched off the stereo, then left the room.
Joe closed the door and leaned against it. Damned if he wasn’t turned on. He couldn’t simply go knock on her door and ask if she fancied a shag. And he hadn’t learned his way around town well enough to go looking for a pretty thing who’d be willing to help him out. So what was he going to do now? Sighing heavily, he went back into his room and crawled into bed.
* * *
Joe shoved the drawer shut and looked around his room. The pile at the foot of his bed consisted of all the clothes he had brought with him. “Looks like I need to go shopping,” he muttered to himself as he padded over and scooped them up. He tossed them onto the bed, sorting through them for the pair of sweats he had worn earlier in the week. Slipping them on, he regathered his things and headed down to the basement to do his wash.

Making his way down the stairs and through the door, Joe was about to dump the heap into the open machine when he heard a voice from across the room. “Hold up there, Joel.” He turned to see Tatum toss a towel she had been folding onto the table and walk toward him. She took the load from his arms and set it onto the table beside the washer. “You don’t do your own laundry much, do you?” she asked as she removed three button-down shirts from his things.
“Uh, not really,” he admitted. “Is it that obvious?”
Tatum turned back to him, the offending shirts in hand. “Most men put everything in one load,” she rolled her eyes. Taking a step toward him, she lifted the tag from one and showed him the care instructions. “These are silk, you shouldn’t put them in the machine,” she explained. “It’s too much agitation for the fibers.”
Joe stared at her blankly. How she could tell those were silk in a wadded mess of t-shirts, socks and jeans was beyond him. “Okay.”
She thrust the garments into his hands. “Above the sink, there’s a tub, and the wool-lite should be in the cabinet underneath.”
Nodding he followed her instructions, finding everything right where she said they’d be. He put the plastic tub into the large sink and filled it with hot water. Joe skimmed the back of the bottle for directions and added a capful of liquid. Adding the shirts to soak, he then turned to find that Tatum had sorted his things and was dropping the dark colored items into the washer.
“This everything you own?” Tatum asked, glancing over her shoulder at him. He nodded. She grinned at him. “Thought so.”
“How?”
She nodded to his sweats. “Lucky guess.”
Joe looked down at the stains on the light gray knit. “Fuck.” He’d forgotten all about spilling his coffee when he’d worn them last.
Tatum chuckled at the expression on his face. “If you’d like, I can finish these with mine and bring them up to you.”
Was she really offering to do his laundry? “That would be great, thanks.”
He continued to stand there in front of her. “Is there something else you need?”
“Would care to go clothes shopping with me this afternoon?”
Tatum’s eyes widened. “You want me to go shopping with you?”
“Yeah,” Joe answered. “Unless you have other plans, that is.” He took a step back, realizing his question had caught her off guard. He grinned in hopes of easing the atmosphere between them. “My ex used to buy all my clothes for me. She said I had ‘totally gawdy’ taste.” Tatum smiled at this and Joe gave a little laugh. “I’m the type that will grab the first thing I see, so I would really appreciate your assistance.”
Tatum stared at him a moment before deciding he was serious. “Okay,” she said. “Sounds like fun.”
“Great,” Joe said, clapping his hands together. “When do you wanna leave? I’m ready to go whenever you are.”
“I think we should finish our laundry first,” her eyes twinkled as she spoke. “I don’t think you wanna head out like that.”
* * *
After a brief debate over whose vehicle they would take (Tatum refused to ride in the jeep) they arrived at The Center, ready to spend money.
Tatum and Joe walked around the upper deck of the triskelion shaped mall. “Where to first?” she asked.
Joe paused to look at the store names that lined the corridors. Some of them were familiar, some were not. “How ‘bout there?” Joe pointed across the way to the level below them. Tatum saw where he was motioning. ‘The Wave’ was a pseudo-surf wear shop. “You’ve gotta be kidding,” she shook her head as she laughed. “You go in there and people will think you’re desperate.”
“Desperate?” his tone was defensive. “Whatta you mean by that?”
“No one over the age of twenty-two goes into that place.” Tatum stared into his green eyes and saw that he truly felt insulted by her remark. “No offense Joel, but it would go down like you were trying too hard to look cool. Besides, none of the sales clerks in there would assist you,” she added flippantly.
Joe folded his arms across his chest. “Where then, would you suggest?”
Tatum said nothing for a moment, taking him in as she sized him up. “Follow me,” she grabbed his hand and pulled him along behind her.
Joe barely caught a glimpse of the store name as Tatum drug him through the door. “This is it?” he muttered as she came to a stop in front of the display of mannequins. “Yeah,” she replied softly as she rose onto her toes to look around over the racks. “Everything a man could need from sports apparel to twenty-four hour tailoring.”
Joe nodded. The variety was quite impressive.
“Welcome to Modern Trend,” the sales clerk announced as he came up to greet them. “How might I assist y…Tater? Is that you?”
Tatum blushed as she turned to face the man who evidently knew her. “Tommy!” The two embraced. “Yep, it’s me.”
“I thought so.” He held her at arms’ length to look her over. “It’s been ages. You should’ve phoned.”
Tommy didn’t seem to notice that she rolled her eyes as she nodded her concession. “You know how things are…”
“You should come on here. Then you’d have no excuse,” Tommy smiled.
“Tom, you know I’m not into this side of retail,” Tatum reminded him.
Joe cleared his throat, gaining the man’s attention. “I am so sorry,” he said, extending his hand to take Joe’s. “You must think I’m horribly rude.”
“Tom Gallagher, this is Joel Hunter,” Tatum introduced. “Joel just moved in across the hall and is in need of clothes.”
“Dress or casual?”
“Mostly casual,” Joe replied. “Possibly one or two nice shirts to wear out to the club.”
Tommy smiled in agreement. “Sizes?”
“Thirty-six long, extra-large and 18-neck,” Tatum responded before Joe could open his mouth. Both men looked at her, stunned.
“How did you know?” Joe was amazed.
“I just do,” she replied. She couldn’t hold her grin back for long and finally admitted. “I did your laundry, remember? Sizes are on the tags.”
Joe chuckled and shook his head. At Tommy’s request, they followed him as led them around the store, showing Joe what he thought he might need during his stay in town.
* * *