He couldn't shake the question from his mind when they excused themselves and went for a stroll around before the show and their set-up.
"See, I told you that they don't know me," Abigail said to him, grinning.
Jayce nodded. "Yes, you were right and maybe I am a tiny bit paranoid, but you were so accurate."
"So what songs are you performing tonight?" Abigail asked.
"We are opening with Natural Mystic by Bob Marley," Jayce said "and of course we'll do a couple of other songs."
"Ah, one of my favorites by him," Abigail said. "Love the words, especially the part, 'Things are not the way they used to be... One and all got to face reality now... '" She started humming it. "Can't wait for you guys to play it."
Jayce shook his head in bemusement. "Wait, I didn't even realize those words were in there. I am just playing guitar to it. Maybe if I was singing I would have played closer attention."
Abigail looked at him. "You seem like the kind of guy to listen to the lyrics of a song."
"I am the kind of guy to listen to the lyrics and obsess over them," Jayce said ruefully. "I am a secret poetry writer. I won't even ask how you know that about me."
"Lucky guess, Jayce. Lighten up. I can't read minds."
"So why do you like that line so much?"
Abigail stopped walking and looked at him intently. "I love the whole song...It is simple, really. That line that says, 'things are not the way they used to be, to me' means that I had to wake up and accept that what I had is long gone. Things are different...things have changed... I have changed.
"It says to me that I should stop trying to regain the past; it will never come back. Stop trying to be someone I'm not and accept the new me and new circumstances that I am working with."
"Wow," Jayce raised his eyebrows.
Tears gathered at the corners of Abigail's eyes and she blinked them away. "That line that says 'one and all got to face reality now’ says to me that the first step to becoming a new, better me is accepting that things have changed and I have to give up my desire to go back to another time. It's gone and never coming back. I have to wake up and face reality if I ever want to make progress in this life."
"Wow again," Jayce whispered after Abigail was done speaking.
She dashed a hand over her eyes. "I am sorry, I get..."
"No," Jayce said, pulling her closer to him and hugging her. "Honesty. Don't apologize for it. You do know that I am going to be listening to the entire song and dissecting it, don't you?"
Abigail chuckled against his chest weakly. They stood like that for the longest time, the crowd milling around them.
Chapter Ten
Jayce sat in his chair and tapped his fingers on his chin. He pondered about yesterday's Natural Life fair where Abigail practically told him a little bit about herself without her even realizing it. She had said that she had changed and the past would never come back. That made him so curious and jittery. He hated mysteries.
He now wanted to know everything about her and he wanted it now. Her ridiculously suspenseful life was literally tying his brain up in knots. He had already called his contacts in Kingston to find the address of the Abigail Petri that he had on the screen. It was an apartment building. Abigail had moved out a year and a half ago. He gritted his teeth in frustration.
She had paid her rent in cash. Apparently she had moved to Montego Bay shortly after. He could hear her outside, in the outer office. Her fingers were moving rapidly over the computer keyboard; he had given her a report to complete a few minutes ago. She had her headphones on and was humming to some music or the other.
He wondered how he could get her to spend some more time with him and open up to him. His eyes fell on the post-it note that he had placed on his desk last week; the first item on there was to buy furniture.
He could easily have gotten Ruby or Melody to help him with furniture shopping. Melody loved those kinds of things and had already hinted that she would like to help him, but so had Abigail a few days ago. There was his opportunity.
He pressed the intercom.
"Abigail could you come to my office, please?" He pulled out the furniture book that he had been browsing through and put it on the desk. Except for his already-done kitchen, he had nothing but his bed. He needed everything.
"Yes," Abigail said, walking into his office. Today she was buttoned up like a schoolmarm in a brown tweed suit. It still looked good on her, though.
"I was thinking," he said, "that if your offer is still standing we could shop for furniture for my place."
"Oh," Abby nodded, "I would like that."
"Is that something you used to do for your ex-husband too?" Jayce asked. He watched as her eyes shuttered and she stiffened. So the topic of the husband is off limits. It was good to know; he would have to visit it again.
She pursed her lips, looking at him disapprovingly. "I am so sorry I told you."
"I am happy you did." Jayce grinned. "When are we free for the furniture shopping?"
"The rest of the afternoon is free," Abigail said. "I think we have to discuss a concept first, though. Like what overall feel you want for your place, and then move on from there."
Jayce groaned. He had wanted to spend some time with her but this was not his type of thing. He couldn't bother with the choices and poring over cloth swatches and what-not. He had seen Melody do that for his kitchen, and he had tired just thinking about it. "Tell you what," he said hurriedly. "I can pay you to be my decorator. You can come over and organize my house as you see fit."
"What about what you said earlier about me not doing it?" Abigail asked skeptically. She folded her arms and gave him her best schoolmarm impersonation. "What are you cooking up in your head?"
"Nothing," Jayce said innocently. "I just changed my mind."
"Are you sure you don't want a professional?" Abigail asked.
Jayce shrugged. "Melody was not a pro and she did a great job with the kitchen. All I did was tell her I liked forest green."
"So why don't you have her do the rest of the house?" Abigail asked, a little pinprick of jealousy sticking her. Melody was heavily involved in Jayce's life. He mentioned her every other minute. Melody did his laundry; Melody made him green juice; Melody loved to cook; Melody took care of him when he was sick.
"It's coming down to the busiest part of the year for her," Jayce interrupted her thoughts. "Besides, if I ask her she'll say yes."
"She sounds like one of those goody two-shoes women who can handle anything with their hands tied behind their back. She's perfect, isn't she?" Abigail said.
"She is." Jayce nodded vigorously and then added, "Perfect for Logan. You sound jealous."
"Nope, not jealous." Abigail said, picking up the furniture book and leafing through, avoiding eye contact.
He handed her his credit card with a pleased glint in his eye.
"Are you working with a budget?" Abby asked grumpily, sore at herself for giving so much away. She was jealous of Melody's role in his life.
Jayce laughed. "No, not really, just don't go overboard. I don't want chandeliers in every room."
"Got it," Abigail said gruffly.
*****
Four weeks. It took Abby four weeks to get everything that she wanted for the place. Abigail looked around Jayce's nicely decorated home and smiled. She had gone to the bigger furniture places, and she had gotten a few pieces custom built, like the tree trunk center table, remnants from the logwood tree that she had the landscaper cut down. She had made Jayce's place into her own place. She hoped he never found out that she had been living out her fantasy while decorating his place.
He seemed to like everything she did, so she hoped it was his fantasy too. They both had similar tastes years ago, so she wasn't been worried that he wouldn't like her work. Jayce was gone to Logan's house to get another box of his stuff to put in the living room. He called them his personal effects. He said Logan had them in his basement for safekeeping. He carted his boxes one b
y one from the bottom of the street to where he lived. He said it was exercise. He had to go get one more box, but the living room was already filled with them.
She lovingly hung up a picture of Jayce that he took with his father a few weeks ago. She had told him that she wanted a picture of them, in black and white, to match the color scheme for the living room. Now that she had done the place, she didn't want to leave.
She chuckled to herself. She was playing with fire. Over the past weeks, whenever she came over with some decorating idea or the other or ordered the movers where to place furniture, Jayce was usually nearby; she had dinner or lunch with him.
He told her stories about himself, some of which she already knew. She listened to his stories and longed to share her stories with him, but she couldn't.
She couldn't share much and she could see that her lack of sharing was driving Jayce crazy. He asked her pointed questions but she would sidestep them. All he wanted to do was get to know her better. She felt sorry for him that he liked her.
She felt sorry for herself that she liked him still. Loved him still, she corrected softly. She hadn't stopped loving him.
She pulled a box in which Jayce had a whole slew of records and CDs. She estimated that he had more than five hundred CDs; no wonder he had insisted that his record shelf had to be huge and his entertainment system had to have surround-sound. Those had been his only stipulations. She prodded through the box and realized that most of the CDs were classics from the 70s and 80s.
She would start packing his record shelf, and she wondered if he would prefer that she do so by artist or by year.
She paused when she reached a CD case with Maxi Priest. Jayce had loved the song Ain’t it Enough when they were dating back in the day. It was the only song on the CD. She smiled…typical Jayce. He must have played it repeatedly.
She pushed the CD into his multiplayer entertainment set and pressed play. When the song started, she closed her eyes.
*****
It was in January 1997, the last night before Jayce left for school. She was eighteen, Jayce twenty. He had finished a year and a half at MIT in the States. They had been nearly inseparable over the Christmas holidays.
She had gone against her father's express will and sneaked out to meet Jayce, even in the middle of the night. They would meet at her gate and then they would drive to his house.
His house had been freedom…freedom from oppression and her father's stifling authority. Her father had promised her a college education if she kept her legs closed, as he had so crudely put it. She had studiously been doing her pre-college courses while missing Jayce, toward whom she wrote long sappy letters in her diary every day.
Her parents had gone to a church service when she had invited Jayce over.
"Are you sure I should be over here?" Jayce asked, looking around. "Your dad would have a fit if he knew that I was over here.
"I have a present for you." She drew him into the living room and he looked around curiously. He had never been to her house, even though they had known each other for years.
"You know, I was expecting to see balls and chains," Jayce whispered.
Haley laughed. "You can speak loudly; they are not here."
"I know but the place feels as if I should whisper," Jayce said. "I can feel the specter of your dad in every pore of the room."
When they entered her room Jayce looked around. It was painfully neat and had no pictures whatsoever. It didn't look like a teenage girl's room.
"Are you sure you live here?" he asked jokingly.
"Yep," Haley grinned. "Pictures are graven images according to my father and bright colors or anything of the kind is an abomination to him. Why do you think I like forest green so much, and reds and oranges and anything bright and pretty? My dad caused it. If it were up to him I would only wear beige and bland colors."
Jayce hesitantly sat on the bed. "Haley, I am not comfortable being in here."
"I know." Haley winked at him. She went into her closet, which also looked neat. "I got you this."
She inhaled and clutched the CD to her chest. "I asked one of my friends to help me get it done."
She handed the CD to him. It was Maxi Priest's album, Man With The Fun, but it had her face on the front of it. She had on makeup. Her hair was out in a defiant afro cloud around her face. She looked so pretty and grown up.
Jayce looked up at her. "I am going to take out the picture and then play the CD. Thank you, Haley."
"You are welcome." She giggled and sat beside him. "There's a letter in the back for you to read when you are at school. The picture is for when you see any pretty girls around campus. You just look at it and remember me."
Jayce drew her closer to him. "I love you so much. I doubt I can forget you. Ever."
"You better mean it." She looked up at him and then whispered, "Kiss me, Jayce."
"Not in the lion's den," Jayce said hoarsely.
He lowered his lips to hers, though, and held her even tighter to him. She pulled him toward her, lying on the bed with Jayce kissing her thoroughly.
"I knew it!" The bellow from the door was like a gunshot. They drew apart so fast Haley felt breathless and dizzy at the same time.
"I would ask you to leave my premises, Jayce Morgan," Greenwald said, gritting his teeth.
Jayce looked at Haley, concerned. He knew that her father was abusive. He knew that he still beat her for the slightest infractions. He was reluctant to leave. She had a scared look on her face, like she was deathly afraid.
"Look Mr. Greenwald," he said weakly, "I don't think..."
"Then don't think," Greenwald said almost pleasantly. "Leave my premises, now!"
Jayce clutched the CD to him; he knew that if Greenwald saw it, it would be further hell for Haley. He wished that he didn't have to leave her. She had recently turned eighteen; she could leave with him.
"Let's leave now, Haley," he urged, genuinely fearful for her.
Haley swallowed. She knew what was going to happen next but she couldn't leave with Jayce. It would be worse if she did.
"No. Go," she said to Jayce weakly.
When Jayce left reluctantly, her father slammed the front door and then he bellowed. "Hannah! Didn't I tell you that this last girl was cut out to be a harlot like all the rest of her sisters? Didn't I tell you? In my own house! I caught her kissing a man. At least her other sisters had enough sense not to carry their men into my house."
Haley listened through the door. It was impossible not to hear him; his preacher's voice was loud and commanding. She also heard his heavy footsteps as they headed for her door.
"You," he said, pointing at her, his eyes wrathful red. "I am going to teach you a lesson you should not forget. If you ever think of contacting that boy Jayce again, I am going to make sure that you remember tonight." He slowly took off his heavy leather belt.
"The Bible says train up a child in the way he should go and when he is older he shall not depart from it. Where have I gone wrong, Lord?" he asked in genuine anguish before he approached her and slapped her across the back with the belt.
"How many times have you kissed that boy, Haley Greenwald? If you lie to me, I will know and I will be avenged."
"I wasn't counting," Haley said weakly.
He nodded, satisfied. "So you have done it so many times you lost count? Have you slept with him?"
"No," Haley said, swallowing. Her throat was constricted and she could feel the sting of the slap against her back.
"Mmmh." He swiped the belt across her back again, putting all his might into it. He was a big man and she was a small girl.
Sometime in the night, after he had finished punishing her for her sins, she had passed out. She had been unable to move in the morning; she had difficulty breathing and she had difficulty unwinding herself from the defensive ball she had contorted herself into to deflect the blows. Her mother's quavering voice had woken her up the morning after the beating.
"Haley." She was shaking h
er and sobbing. "Thank God you are alive. I thought you were dead. I thought he had killed you. You didn't seem as if you were breathing."
She sniffed, tears streaming down her face. "I am going to send you to your aunt in Kingston. I already called her. You remember your aunt Barbara."
"The forbidden one?" Haley barely whispered.
"Yes." Her mother nodded vigorously. "She is coming to get you. She should be here shortly. I secretly called her last night."
"You can't tell your father where you are. You can't." She sobbed again and then she helped Haley up. "You have to get away from here. He is gone to work."
"Haley," she said as she helped her swollen, almost broken daughter to the bathroom. "Pretend like you are dead. Leave all this behind. Leave this family behind. Leave this town behind. Don't look back. You have to."
"But Jayce..." Haley whispered.
"Jayce doesn't go to school here. Eventually he will forget you. There must be loads of girls at the school he is attending. Forget him. All men end up being monsters. Take it from me, no matter how good they may seem at first, or even if you marry them from the church and they profess to be Christians, they all end up being monsters, just like your father. Forget Jayce."
*****
" That is one of my favorite songs," Jayce said beside her.
Abigail opened her eyes, startled. She hadn't realized that he had come into the house or that he was sitting close to her on the carpet.
"I got that," she said huskily, "it is the only song on the CD." She looked him over. He was in khaki pants and was wearing a blue shirt. He looked fit and handsome and so familiar that for a moment she felt lightheaded with thankfulness that he was still in her life. Her mother's admonition to forget him had not quite worked out, had it? And by no stretch of the imagination was he a monster. Not now or then.
A Past Refrain Page 8
