Chanel, Lili, and Jack ensconced themselves again on the couch while Sophia settled in the easy chair.
They were all engrossed in the film, about a half hour into it, when the doorbell chimed.
“Is anyone expecting someone?” Sophia asked, pausing the film.
“No,” all three said.
“Then you just watch the film. I’ll get the door and take care of it.”
The bell rang again, more insistently.
Sophia found Amanda, positively skeletal, bedraggled, distraught, standing in her doorway like the madwoman of Chaillot, looking for trouble.
“Amanda, what are you doing here? I thought you were entertaining. Are you all right?” Sophia asked, bewildered by Amanda’s presence. She did not look like the cool, collected, well-groomed Amanda she knew.
“Am I all right? Of course I’m not all right. I’m destroyed by your story about Keith,” she snapped. “I’m not looking for you or your precious guests. I hear you have people here. I hear voices. Oh, you know what I mean.” Amanda stamped her foot in exasperation. “I don’t hear voices. I hear voices in your living room,” she stammered, raising her voice. “Who I don’t hear is that cocksucker Barth. I’m here to see him,” Amanda spat out.
“You’ll have a long wait. He’s in Key West. You know that.” Sophia raised her voice.
She was beginning to get angry at this thoughtless intrusion. Keith was the cocksucker, not Barth. He received the cocksucker’s largesse. She wasn’t going to point this out to the irrational Amanda standing before her.
“I’ll wait. Aren’t you going to let me in? Or do I have to stand here all night?” Amanda said.
“Come in,” Sophia said, flinging the door wide. “Let’s go upstairs. You’re in no condition to be sociable,” Sophia said, taking Amanda gently by the arm.
“What’s going on, Ma?” Lili appeared in the hallway.
“Nothing. Amanda has shown up out of the blue. She’s not well. I’m taking her upstairs. Please keep watching the film. I’ve seen it a few times. I’ll be there shortly.”
As Lili left the hallway, Sophia began leading Amanda, who had suddenly gone limp, deflated like a slashed beach ball, up the stairs to her bedroom.
A gleaming butcher knife, menacing and incongruous, clattered to the floor, slipping out of Amanda’s loosened grip. She had been carrying it in her other hand, unnoticed by Sophia.
“What the hell?” Sophia backed up from the knife lying on the tiled floor. Its gleaming surface winked at her suggestively.
“Here you are all cozily happy with your loving daughter while your darling Barth ruined my son. Where is that cocksucker? I’ll have his balls for breakfast,” Amanda shouted, looking wilder by the minute.
Sophia noticed that Amanda’s pupils were pinned. She was on something, some opioid. Probably Vicodin, come to think of it. She had talked about using it for pain after some minor surgery.
“Now, Amanda. You weren’t going to cut Barth’s balls off. You’re not thinking clearly. You can’t bring a knife into this house. I consider it a real threat,” Sophia chastised Amanda.
“Barth ruined my baby Keith. I can’t live without him. We’re the two musketeers. We don’t need three,” Amanda croaked.
Sophia was furious at Amanda, but it would do no good to show her. She suppressed her rage. “Here, let me take your shoes off and your sweatshirt, Amanda. Let’s go to the guest room. You need to lie down. You look like you haven’t slept or eaten in a while. I’ll make you a nice breakfast tomorrow morning,” Sophia said, trying to be soothing despite her anger.
Amanda obeyed like a docile child. Sophia noticed her sharply protruding spine when she was taking off her sweatshirt. Once she had deposited Amanda in the guest bed, she checked the guest bathroom to make sure there were no sharp objects or lethal weapons in there.
Better lock up our bedroom and Barth’s studio. I never know what Amanda could get into her head at the best of times. And this is the worst of times, she thought.
“Better still, I’m locking her into the guest bedroom,” Sophia said out loud. “I don’t trust that crazy bitch.”
Sophia deposited the butcher knife in the kitchen before returning to the living room. She didn’t want to disturb the guests or spill about Barth to them, so she would have to keep a low profile.
The movie had come to an end, and the credits were rolling when Sophia reappeared in the living room. Everyone looked swept away by the film. Jack, Lili, and Chanel were slowly reemerging into present-day reality.
“That was perfect timing,” she said, hoping she managed to look as carefree as she was trying to sound.
Three pairs of eyes looked at her expectantly. Sophia was learning just how difficult keeping secrets can be.
“Amanda is ill. I think she’s been too liberal with the Vicodin, so I just put her to bed,” she said.
“Why did she decide to come here?” Jack asked.
“Who can understand the workings of her mind? I know she can’t most of the time. So I certainly can’t presume to understand her. Let her sleep it off.”
“Okay,” Jack said, looking like he wanted to ask more questions.
Sophia picked up her neglected glass of champagne. “Let’s move on to Defiance. It’s about Polish Jewish warring brothers hiding in the Belarusian forest with a thousand refugees, disagreeing about rebellion in World War II. Nice to see some feisty Jews instead of all victims,” Sophia said. “Oh, and Daniel Craig blew me away as a convincing Jew. His brother, played by Liev Schreiber, is pretty great too. And Schreiber directed the next one. A multitalented, multifaceted man. So is everyone pleased with the entertainment so far?” Sophia asked.
“Great!” they said in unison.
Sophia was able to watch this film straight through. No interruptions. When the movie ended, she got up to refresh drinks. “Does anyone want anything else, or should we stick to champagne?” she asked.
“I’m ready for Johnny Walker,” Jack sang out.
“We’re both happy with champagne,” Lili said.
“I am too,” Sophia said. “Let me get the drinks, and then we can plunge right into Everything Is Illuminated, if that’s okay?”
“Perfect,” Chanel said. “Your choices are excellent.”
“Why thank you, my dear,” Sophia said. She went over to give Chanel a hug and a peck on the cheek.
Drinks in hand, they discussed the movie for a bit and then were ready for the grand finale.
“Now this film is quirky, offbeat, funny, and sad at the same time. An accomplished directorial debut by Liev Schreiber,” Sophia said, and then she offered, “Dessert anyone, before we begin?”
“What do you have?” Jack asked.
“How about gelato? I have different flavors,” Sophia suggested.
“Bring it on,” Lili said.
“Okay. Let me bring out the containers and some goblets, and we can mix and match,” Sophia said.
The movie was a success.
“I thought of you, Ma, when the protagonist wonders if there’ll be anything for him to eat at the bizarre hotel. I knew then he was a vegetarian. How many times have I heard you say that very same thing? And then of course everyone echoes ‘What’s wrong with him?’”
As everyone was saying their good-byes, Sophia asked Lili and Chanel if they wanted to continue the celebration tomorrow with her and Jack.
“Of course,” Lili said. “This was great fun. But sad too.”
“Bien sûr,” Chanel said. “And Jack tells me tomorrow includes a French film at the Cinematheque. I can’t wait.”
When Lili and Chanel had said their good-byes, Jack stuck around, ostensibly to help Sophia clear up.
“So what’s going on with Amanda?” Jack asked.
“She came brandishing a big butcher knife.” Sophia said. “Well, I’m exaggerating. It had already slipped to the floor when I first noticed it. But still, a real threat. She was looking for Barth’s balls. She wanted to cut them
off. He corrupted her darling Keith, in her view.”
“This is getting completely out of hand, Sophia. She sounds dangerous,” Jack warned.
“I ended up telling her about the Keith and Barth tryst at dinner a couple of nights ago, and she was defeated. She’s a little sicker than I realized. Keith is her whole world. To the point of insanity. To the point of poor reality testing.”
“What possessed you to tell her?” Jack asked.
“I hadn’t meant to. But when she mentioned that Keith was in Key West, I became paranoid, assuming that Barth and Keith had planned to rendezvous there. I overreacted and dropped my wine at the restaurant where we were having dinner. So I told her what I saw. Naturally, she freaked.”
“And did they?” Jack asked.
“Did they what? Oh. No, no. On the contrary, Barth told me Keith is stalking him. Barth is coming home early, he’s so distressed.”
“As I said, this is getting completely out of control,” Jack said, concern registering in his voice. “Do you want me to spend the night?” he asked.
“Yes, would you? I didn’t realize how wound up I was until you offered. I would feel much better,” she said. “I locked her in the guest room, but still. It’s not often a friend comes over with a knife in hand,” Sophia joked. “I’ll set you up in Barth’s study. There’s a bed in there. And a bathroom.”
She settled Jack, giving him a pair of Barth’s pristine pajamas, and kissed him good night with gratitude.
“You’re the best, Jack.”
“So are you, Sophia,” Jack replied, hugging her tightly.
“Let’s leave the mess until tomorrow. I’m beat.”
“Sounds good to me,” Jack laughed. “Procrastination is always the right response.”
“Even though I really only saw two of the three Holocaust films, they knocked me out.”
“Let’s check on Amanda before we turn in, shall we?” Jack suggested.
“Yes.”
Sophia unlocked the door, and they both peered at Amanda, who was sleeping so profoundly, she looked like Rip van Winkle, someone who might sleep through the rest of her life.
CHAPTER 22
Sophia woke to another glorious winter morning in paradise. Perfect sunshine, perfect temperature, and perfect birdsong. She threw open the French doors to the balcony, welcoming in the fragrant sunshine, which illuminated the room with its brilliant glow. As she looked up, raucous green parakeets streaked across the saturated sky.
On her way down to the kitchen, she unlocked the guest bedroom apprehensively and stared at Amanda’s sleeping form. This time she left the door unlocked and bounded downstairs where she found Jack making coffee. Everything always looked better in the morning.
“I made it strong, just the way you like it,” Jack said, turning around from the stove to peck her on the cheek. “What a Christmas Eve. Or, rather UnChristmas Eve. Between the Holocaust films, the news about Lili, and Amanda’s surprise visit, I barely had time to reflect on anything.” Jack handed Sophia a cup of coffee. “And, as if that’s not enough for one day, you tell me Keith is stalking Barth. Remind me to hang out at work at the homicide division, if I want peace and quiet, not at your place.”
“I want to say you’re exaggerating, but I have to agree. I haven’t even mentioned the heavy-duty Holocaust hallucinations I’ve been having, which I can barely handle. It’s hard to believe that Barth and I had such a calm, ordered existence up until the week before last. His bit of fun set off a chain of events, causing a domino effect. I know they’re not all related. But maybe in a weird way they are. That act changed the way I’m acting. To Barth, to Lili, to Dirk.”
“Yeah. What is happening with Dirk?” Jack asked, bursting with curiosity, overlooking the Holocaust hallucinations in favor of possible sexy dirt.
“Who’s Dirk?” a weak voice, straining to be heard, piped up.
A drooping Amanda, pale, hollow, and worn, like a wilting Calla lily, all the worse for wear, stood framed in the doorway. She looked like an older, weaker, sloppier version of herself, gingerly walking into the room and struggling to pull a kitchen chair out. Jack went over to help her.
“Who’s Dirk?” Amanda repeated.
“What is happening with Dirk?” Jack echoed.
“I introduced you to Dirk at the restaurant,” Sophia said.
“Oh, the gorgeous hunk with the perfectly put-together blonde,” Amanda remembered. “Don’t remind me.” She held up her hand dramatically. “I call that night at the restaurant AK. After Knowledge. My life is now divided into BK, Before Knowledge, and AK, After Knowledge,” she said.
“So you’re like Christ?” Sophia said.
“I am a martyr to the cause. I have my cross to bear.”
“Do you know?” Amanda spat out, flinging her head, which was hanging heavily on her thin stalk of a neck, sideways, glaring at Jack with slanted suspicious eyes.
“Yes, he knows. I had to tell someone,” she said.
“I hope you haven’t turned into the town crier,” Amanda countered.
“Jack is my dearest friend. He’s the only one I told.”
Even at such a time, a wave of jealousy washed slowly across Amanda’s eyes. She always wanted to be number one. Sophia felt profoundly sorry for Keith.
“What am I doing here?” Amanda asked.
“You don’t remember coming over last night?” Sophia asked.
“I don’t remember a fucking thing.” Amanda said.
“What’s the last thing you remember?” Sophia asked.
“I remember calling off Christmas Eve. Then I started drinking. I washed down a Vicodin with a dirty martini before I went to bed. Frankly, I don’t know how many martinis I had. The dirty ones are less fattening. No sugary mixes. Oh yeah. I took an Ambien right before bed,” Amanda said, putting her head in her hands. “That’s it. Try as I might, I can’t remember a thing after that. Next thing I know, I wake up in a different bed in a different house. Creepy,” she said, wincing.
“You were in a blackout. Driving, carrying a big old butcher knife, and threatening to cut off Barth’s balls once you got here,” Sophia filled her in.
“A butcher knife! Barth’s balls! You’re serious?” Amanda squeaked like a mouse whose tail has been trod upon.
“I’m dead serious. You scared the shit out of me when that knife slid to the floor. You weren’t waving it around or anything. Nonetheless, it was frightening. I locked you in and checked the bathroom for potentially deadly objects before I left,” she said.
“I am sorry. What a mess.”
It dawned on Sophia that Amanda had become addicted to Vicodin and was also habitually using Ambien to sleep. Ambien was unpredictable, and it could cause people to sleepwalk. Add booze, and you were in deep shit.
“Amanda, I think we need to discuss rehab. You have a serious problem, and it appears to have escalated,” Sophia said.
“Don’t be silly. You’re overreacting. I’ve just been upset since you told me about Keith. I hit the booze a little too hard. That’s all.”
A premonition flooded Sophia’s consciousness. In her mind’s eye, she flashed on an image of Amanda, dead in her bedroom. Staring at Amanda’s cadaverous body, she thought, dead from an eating disorder. Then she flashed on Amanda covered in sticky blood. She shivered, shaking her head. Too many bloody hallucinations. Now visions. She was going round the bend.
She remembered envisioning Morton dead, thinking it was wishful, and then a few short months later, he was murdered. She had also seen blood.
Jack’s voice brought her back. “Come back, Sophia. You look a little green around the gills. Please sit down,” he ordered, leading her to a chair opposite Amanda.
“Amanda, you need rehab. Trust me. You can’t handle this alone,” Sophia said.
“You know I can’t go to local rehab. Current or former patients could be in there. Delray Beach, just forty or fifty miles north of here, is the rehab capital of the United States. All the junkies
and alcoholics flock there.”
“You can go out of state. California maybe. I’ll help you find a good place. I’ll support your recovery,” Sophia said.
“I’ll bet you would. You’d love me out of the way. Barth would love me out of the way. So you can continue corrupting Keith,” Amanda shouted, exposing her paranoia in full bloom, like a poisonous flower flourishing amid the shit.
“Okay, Amanda. You’re not making any sense. Now I’m in Barth’s camp. We’re victimizing poor little innocent Keith? Remember I discovered Keith on his knees wallowing in Barth’s come. Keith was ecstatic,” Sophia said. She was tempted to tell Amanda about Keith’s relentless stalking, but she reined in her anger once again, realizing that Amanda was hurting enough.
“Shut up. Shut up. Shut up,” Amanda said, her hands clamped on her ears.
One of the characteristics Sophia loathed about Amanda was how her constant desire to elicit the truth about her situation was at cross-purposes with her constant need not to know. When Sophia was foolish or weak enough to give in and tell her truths, Amanda always became furious with her.
Sophia often wondered how effective Amanda could be as a therapist. Well, there were many disturbed therapists out there. All trying to heal themselves.
Jack was volunteering to make brunch or breakfast when hollow-eyed, sleep-deprived Barth slouched into the kitchen.
“Oh, hello everybody,” he said, surprised to find Jack and Amanda with Sophia.
He walked over to Sophia and kissed her on the cheek as he said, “Starting Christmas early?”
“I thought you were coming home tomorrow,” Sophia said.
“I couldn’t take another day. Sorry to tell you this, Amanda, but Keith started stalking me when I rebuffed his advances. Very nicely, I might add. The rebuffing, that is, not the stalking,” he said. “He’s been driving me mad. Showing up everywhere I go, slipping weird messages under the door, calling and playing music. I had to get out of there. I couldn’t take another minute. He was relentless. Your son’s persistence is boundless. I felt like he bound me up in knots,” Barth said, looking at Amanda.
“I can’t listen to this crap. I’m getting out of here,” Amanda yelled as she ran out of the room.
Time's Hostage: The dangers of love, loss, and lus (Time Series Book 1) Page 16
