A Perfect Canvas

by Kevin Adkisson

  Chapter 17

  Eddie didn’t like bars or nightclubs. He never had. Drinking, dancing, and hobnobbing in meat markets was a colossal waste of time.

  When he'd turned twenty-one, he’d let a few friends drag him into a pair of bars, three nightclubs, and a strip-club for his birthday.

  He went because he had never been and because they begged him to go, wouldn’t leave him alone about it. “Come on, man...” “It’s your birthday...” “Don’t be a jerk...”

  Watching people get drunk in the bars was depressing and paying to see his friends slip dollar bills in the G-strings of a bunch of topless women just wasn’t right in his mind. He didn’t want a sex object. He wanted a soul mate. He would have preferred an evening at home on the couch with a tall Coke and a nice creepy Dean Koontz novel.

  Ever since that birthday outing he had avoided all such places, even Tabitha’s nightclub, Isis.

  The traffic light changed, and he scrambled across the street toward the club. It was twilight. Dozens of blackbirds perched across the edge of the building. Their droppings painted the top bricks of the club and the cacophony of their chirping sounded like cats screaming in the distance.

  A long line of pleasure seekers snaked from under a gold sign, down the sidewalk, and around the building. Eddie scanned the features of the people on the red brick walkways for some sign of Paige. She wasn’t there.

  Where the line of hopeful customers started, Bill and Bob--the style and beauty brigademanned red velvet ropes. Bill was the skinny one in the shimmering blue shirt. He held the automatic in-list rolled up in his hand. He decided which people not on the list, if any, would make the cut. Bob was the fat one in the black T-shirt with SECURITY printed on the front. He was the bouncer who walked people through the metal detector and enforced Bill’s will.

  Most of the people in line would spend the night waiting outside, and they knew it, yet they still waited. Stupidity in action. He wouldn’t waste the time. He knew it was Paige’s style and beauty, and later her friendship with Tabitha, that had gotten him past them.

  It hit Eddie then that he might not make it past those ropes. What if he wasn't on the list? What if Bill and Bob didn't recognize him? Paige wasn’t with him. Bill and Bob liked the power their job gave them, and they’d heard every line ever conceived to try to get past them. “My wife’s inside,” and “I'm friends with the owner,” probably being two of the more common ones. If Tabitha had taken his name off the list, there would be no talking his way past them.

  Eddie tucked his shoulders back and tried to look as confident as possible as he approached. Bill glanced at his list, didn't say anything. Bob looked Eddie up and down and said, “Hey, Eddie.”

  Remembering his name was a good sign. Eddie nodded.

  “Hello, Bob.”

  Bill and Bob stood there for a few seconds looking at him and making him feel uncomfortable. He looked from Bill to Bob then back to Bill. He wasn’t sure what he would do if they wouldn’t let him in. Wait outside? Then Bob lifted the rope.

  Eddie blew a quick breath of relief, tossed his keys to Bob, and stepped through the metal detector. Several people in line grumbled at his preferential treatment. A quick look in their direction from Bill silenced them. Bob handed his keys back and patted him on the shoulder. The pat felt like sympathy and Eddie cringed at the thought that Bob knew something he didn’t.

  He quickened his pace through the door before Bob had a chance to say anything. There was no way he was going to risk having a chat with Bob the bouncer about his wife.

  Eddie hadn’t come to talk about his wife, he had come to talk to her, to find out what “We need to talk” was all about. He felt he was going to be hit hard by something, and he didn’t like it.

  In his experience, the words “We need to talk” rarely came to any good. His mind went into overdrive with every negative possibility. Maybe Paige was going to follow Tabitha’s advice and leave him. Maybe she was seeing someone else, some asshole like Nicholas. Maybe she planned on coming clean about an affair. Maybe she wanted a divorce.

  No. Don’t think like that. Don’t be negative and full of doubt. Paige wanted to talk. That was all. Hell, she might be meeting him here to celebrate a big sale. This could be good news.

  Gold Egyptian hieroglyphics covered the walls of the short hallway leading into the club. Bass from techno music vibrated the bottom of Eddie’s jeans and shook the walls. Every few moments--mixed into the music's rhythm--David Lee Roth’s twangy voice repeated, “Everybody wants some. I want some too.” Smoke billowed around Eddie’s feet.

  Despite his aversion to clubs, the atmosphere intoxicated him. Called up primal instincts he forgot he had. It cut through his apprehension, pulled at him, whispered to him. Forget your troubles. Come drink. Come dance. He supposed that was part of reason why he didn’t like clubs. He wanted to walk differently in them, to stride around as if he was somebody important when he knew he wasn’t. It was almost enough to drag him out onto the dance floor, and he didn’t even like to dance. That was a testament to Tabitha’s ability. She knew what she was doing and there could be no doubt about it. She was a nightclub goddess.

  Eddie sidestepped several tables and elbowed his way through the dance floor crammed with people grinding against one another. Anger, fear, and worry charged through him and yet a strange calmness swept over him at the same time.

  It was as if two Eddies inhabited the same body and neither of them had full control. One worried about Paige and wallowed in a deep consuming apprehension. The other went about as if nothing had happened. With methodical precision, it analyzed, made decisions, moved through the club and into action.

  Club Isis was crowded, packed with uninhibited youth dancing and spending money. The mingled scents of smoke, sweat, and liquor fused together, encircling him. Eddie preferred the seats away from the crowd. He made his way past the bar, shuffling past patrons and waitresses to an empty table against the wall. He spilled into the chair. He hoped Tabitha wouldn’t spot him anytime soon. He could do without another chat about his relationship with Paige.

  Tabitha stood where he expected to find her, at the end of the bar, as close to the dance floor as she could get. She wore a black tank top with the words PLAY MORE, THINK LESS printed on the front in white glitter. The shirt was at least one size too small, maybe two. Gold hoop earrings dangled from her lobes.

  Even though Tabitha owned the place, she made it a point to work the bar. “Honey,” she’d say, “that’s where all the action is.”

  A wall of customers stood across from her. She drizzled clear liquor into half a dozen shot glasses, sucked one back, and distributed the rest while snatching cash from fingers. Eddie looked for Paige among the people, didn’t see her, but that didn’t surprise him. He was a couple of hours early. Still, he’d feel a lot better once he’d seen her.

  Wendy, an athletic young woman with dark eyes and long, raven black hair dodged her way to his table. He knew her name because she’d waited on him every time Paige dragged him into the place. He ran his hand through his hair trying to get himself under control, to fit in, and raised his voice over the music once she stood next to him.

  “It’s like you’re the only waitress that works here,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Every time I come in here it seems like you’re the only one working the tables.”

  “Feels that way to me, too.” She smiled. “You want the usual? A Coke?”

  “Yeah, but bring me a shot, too.”

  A shot might do him some good, seemed like a good way to mellow before the storm.

  She raised an eyebrow. “You want a shot?”

  With the music so loud, she probably thought she hadn’t heard him right. He’d never ordered liquor from her before.

  “Yeah.”

  “Of what?”

  “Bring me whatever Tabitha is having.”
>
  “You got it.” She turned and made her way back to the bar.

  He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, tapped a button and glanced at the display as it lit up. Damn. No missed calls.

  Paige had said her phone was dead, but he’d figured she’d have charged it by now. Pressing the speed dial digit assigned to Paige, he brought the phone to his ear, and the call went straight to voicemail. Eddie hung up without leaving a message.

  The cut on his hand had finally quit throbbing, felt stiff more than anything else, and he flexed it a couple of times to try and work out some of the stiffness.

  “You look like shit,” Tabitha said. She stood across from his table, one hand playing with a short gold chain dangling from a navel ring.

  Eddie looked up at Tabitha’s face. Damn. Damn. He’d hoped to avoid her for a little while longer. “I’ve been better.”

  “You’ve looked better, that’s for sure. Not that you ever look that great.” She sat down and leaned toward him. “You find Paige?”

  He’d hoped she wouldn’t sit like she was with her chest bulging out at him. His face reddened from cleavage exposure. He didn’t understand why she made it a point to act like this. Whatever her reasoning, he kept his eyes moving: from the table, to the DJ, to the crowd--anywhere but her chest.

  “I don’t know. She’s supposed to meet me here.”

  “I’m glad you came in. I’ve been thinking about you since our chat earlier.”

  “Have you talked to her?”

  “No, but that doesn’t mean anything. The place has been busy.”

  Eddie frowned, watched the crowd, not really seeing them as people, just a moving mass of flesh. Strobes flashed over them like seductive beacons of light calling through the darkness.

  “Did you come up with some fresh ways to tell me how much you hate me?” Eddie asked.

  “I don’t hate you. I just don’t think you and Paige are being good for each other. You don’t support one another. I’m vocal about it because I care.”

  He locked his eyes on hers. “Could have fooled me. I told you Paige might be missing and you didn’t seem to give a shit.”

  Tabitha lit a cigarette and puffed on it. “You know, we’ve never really talked, you and I. Have we?”

  “No. I guess we haven’t.”

  He figured if Tabitha was going to get in on his discussion with Paige, and she probably would, he ought to smooth things out between them as much as he could before Paige arrived. Besides, she had his curiosity up. She’d never really showed an interest in talking to him before.

  Wendy returned with the Coke and the shot, left them on the table, and then disappeared back into the swarm of writhing arms, legs, pelvises. Eddie slammed back the shot and waited for the warmth to work its way into his body before chasing it with a bit of Coke.

  “You’re drinking?” Tabitha asked. “That’ll solve all your problems.”

  Eddie stared into the bottom of the glass. “Just one shot.”

  Tabitha smiled. “Hey, maybe you should have a couple more. Maybe then you’d be less of a prick.”

  “Thanks. I’m fine.” He didn’t care what she thought of him. She’d never see him as anything more than what she’d pegged him to be, a prick, no matter what he did. He didn’t want to get drunk, drown his problems. He wanted to take the edge off before he talked to Paige. Not that he expected Tabitha to understand that.

  She rained ashes into an ashtray.

  “Is Paige cheating on me?"

  He tried not to feel guilty about asking Tabitha before giving Paige an opportunity to defend herself face to face, but he wasn’t successful. They were married, and he ought to have talked to her first. He justified it by telling himself that he deserved to know the truth.

  Tabitha didn’t say anything. She just sat there looking at him with her eyebrows pinched together. She’d clearly been thrown off by his question. He understood how she felt. It threw him off asking it. But Nicholas had him doubting.

  “Why don’t you just give up?” Tabitha said. “Don’t you get it?”

  Something other than condescension laced her tone, and he tried hard to shrug it off, to get past it and find out what she knew. What she wasn’t saying. Clearly she wanted to tell him something. Tabitha would know if Paige was cheating. And Tabitha had no reason to hide it from him. She wanted him gone.

  “You didn’t hear it from me,” she finally said.

  The air around Eddie thickened. The hurt and anger of Paige’s infidelity punched through his chest in a twisted combination that astonished him. His eyes welled up, and he turned away from Tabitha, blinked back tears. If he lost control now, he didn’t think he’d be able to get it back. He focused his mind on the questions racing through his mind.

  “Have you met him?”

  “No, I haven’t met him.”

  “How long has she been seeing him?”

  “A few months.”

  A few months? Unbelievable.

  “She’s actually been cheating on me?”

  An image of Paige and Nicholas together, going at it like porn stars, pushed its way onto the projection screen of Eddie’s mind. He fought hard to force the image out of his head, but everywhere he looked in the club there was skin grinding on skin.

  Tabitha turned away from the table, looked out at her dance floor.

  Wendy hustled by and Eddie signaled to her for another shot.

  “You haven’t been cheating on her, have you?” Tabitha asked.

  “No.”

  “Not that you would tell me if you were.”

  “Come on, Tabitha. I’m a one-woman guy.”

  “Hey, things happen. I’d understand.”

  “Well, nothing’s happened. I wouldn’t do that to her. I love her.”

  At a table across from Eddie, a young man wearing a stocking cap pulled down so far it nearly covered his eyes stood amid three young women with various shades of cotton candy colored hair. The man did a circling motion with his finger ordering the ladies another round then cocked his head to one side like a confused dog.

  Maybe he should have bought Paige more drinks. Maybe he should have taken her out more often. Maybe he hadn’t been fun enough for her.

  Wendy returned with his shot, and he downed it as soon as she put it on the table. He looked toward Tabitha to see if she wanted anything, and she waved a hand no. He ordered a double, and Wendy shuffled back into the mob to get it. He’d have to remember to give her a really big tip for all the extra running back and forth he was making her do.

  It all made sense now. Tabitha’s lack of concern. Nicholas showing up and threatening him at the restaurant. Paige’s e-mail wanting to “talk.”

  As he fought to maintain control, Tabitha slid her chair over next to his. Her eyes softened. She smelled like limes and coconut. Wendy brought him the double, and he stared at it. Couldn’t force himself to drink it.

  The music changed, and Eddie’s shot glass rattled on the table to a hip-hop beat he’d never heard before.

  Eddie looked up and saw a man who was at least twenty years older than the rest of the crowd bounce his way across the dance floor looking for someone, anyone, to dance with. He had a thick gray beard and wore red leather pants. As the man moved toward women on the dance floor they flipped their backs to him like magnets with the polarity reversed. Eddie wondered how the man had made it past the style and beauty brigade out front.

  Paige would be trying to drag Eddie out on the dance floor if she were here. She loved to dance. Maybe he should have danced with her more often. Maybe he should have told her she was beautiful more often.

  Tabitha watched him, studied him. He could only imagine what emotions flashed across his face.

  “When was the last time you had something to eat?” she asked.

  “This morning, but I’m not really in the mood to eat.”

  She blew a raspberry at him. “Nonsense
.” She signaled Wendy back over to the table. “You have to eat. You’ll feel better after you eat.”

  Club Isis didn’t serve food, but several restaurants nearby did. Tabitha spoke to Wendy, and she scampered off toward the exit. That tip was going to have to be monstrous. Eddie felt a good quarter past mellow now. The alcohol was finally starting to do its job.

  “We’ll have something over here for you in a few minutes,” Tabitha said.

  The man on the dance floor in red leather pants had found a partner, a chubby girl with a large U shaped piercing through her nose. Eddie watched them dance awhile, the girl’s butt banging away against the man’s groin. The image of Nicholas and Paige going at it like porn stars popped back in his head and he nearly lost it again.

  “Did Paige say why?” he asked.

  “Does it matter? If she doesn’t want to be with you, if she doesn’t love you, if she’s been cheating on you, why would you still want to be with her?”

  “Because I love her.”

  Tabitha patted Eddie’s hand. “Well, maybe you should think about starting over, finding someone new.”