“I’ve got to go,” I said as I broke the hug.
“This is still crazy, Penny. It’s snowing, the storm is supposed to get worse in the morning, and you haven’t even slept in like three days,” she noted. “And don’t get me started on the fact that the only thing you’ve eaten today was a little ice cream.” I chose not share with Millie where the ice cream ended up. “I just don’t think it’s safe for you guys to go out.”
“I have to go,” I said although I didn’t disagree with what Millie was saying.
“Let me just call Jack,” she said and pulled her own cellphone out.
“No.” I put my hand on her arm. “Think about it. If this is Crystal’s doing, it’ll be better for everyone if Jack complied with her wishes.” Millie’s shoulders slumped, indicating she understood my point. She argued no more and I gave her quick instructions should Little Sofie’s fever return. “It should be easy. Everyone’ll be asleep and I’ll be back before they wake up.” My cellphone vibrated again; it hadn’t stopped since the first I am waiting text came through. I grabbed my keys and was about to look for my coat – where had the kids stashed it when they cleaned? – when Jack called instead of texting.
“What the hell is taking you so long?” I never even had a chance to speak before he hung up.
“You need your coat,” said Millie but I waved her off.
“The heater works fine in the truck. I’ll be okay.”
* * *
Chapter 7
Again, I ran down the hallway and by the time the elevator doors opened, I was afraid I was going to pass out. I didn’t know which I needed more – sleep or food – but neither was an option for me at that moment. I didn’t want to make Jack wait anymore nor did I want him to find out I was having eating issues again.
I found him by the front door with his suitcase, holding a to-go coffee cup and a small white paper bag I assumed held the sandwich I ordered for him earlier. He was looking out at the snow falling. He looked pissed which was not a look he often wore.
Jack said nothing to me and I let him lead the way to our snow covered Suburban The temperature had fallen, no surprise since it was almost midnight, and the wind was stronger. There was at least four inches of snow piled on the new Suburban and it fell heavier than earlier in the day. I unlocked the back of the vehicle and Jack set his suitcase next to my bag which had never made it to the suite. His cellphone beeped at him.
“Syn suka,”[3] he muttered and gave me an angry look. “Get in the car,” Jack ordered. “Warm it up.” I nodded and hiked myself up behind the wheel. When I turned on the wipers and cleared the windshield, I saw Jack’s shadowy figure heading back into the lodge. I had no idea what he was doing and I wasn’t even sure I cared anymore. The car needed to be cleaned off and despite being so cold and not having my coat, I hopped back out and used the long snow brush to sweep the snow from the windows and headlights. My hands were numb by the time I finished and I held them in front of the dashboard heater back inside the truck. Heat poured out but I was slow to warm up.
Jack was gone at least fifteen minutes and returned with a second to-go cup and small white bag. When he slid into his seat, he put the two cups and two bags in the center console. I eyed them with suspicion and put my seatbelt on and Jack followed suit. When he was settled, he opened up one of the bags and took out a sandwich. He unwrapped half of it and handed it over to me. It was tuna fish salad on wheat, my favorite.
Your favorite only when I let you eat, said the Terrible Voice.
“Millie narced on you,” Jack said in a flat voice. “And I know you have been running on the treadmill. Natalya sold you out on that one a while ago.” His next question pissed me off. “Are you back to sticking your finger down your throat again too?” I was about to call him out on his piss poor behavior of late when he pulled two prescription bottles from his pocket and handed them to me. “Millie just gave them to me. When did you stop taking your depression meds?”
I said nothing, just looked down at the bottles. I was ashamed. I kept my gaze down. I couldn’t even look at Jack.
Now you’ve done it. You are so stupid…
“Those were last filled in January. Have you not taken them since?”
“No,” I said, my voice quiet from guilt.
“Why, Penelope?” Penelope. It was the first time he used my pet name since that weekend in June.
“They weren’t helping anymore,” I answered. It was the truth; I felt they did nothing to help me.
“What about therapy?”
I shook my head and put the two empty bottles in the small plastic bag I used for car trash.
“Where have you been going if you were not meeting with Dr. Abraham?” Dr. Abraham was a friend of the family and went to the same synagogue as the Petrov family. He was also the therapist that helped Jack after the deaths of two of his children. He had tried to help me with my anorexia but I just didn’t feel like therapy was working either.
I didn’t want to answer Jack’s question but the Terrible Voice made me.
“A gym.”
“Syn suka,” he growled.
The Terrible Voice laughed inside of my head. Then came the words that stabbed me straight in the heart. He knows you broke your promise. Remember the promise you made to him at the cabin? You promised not to start running again. You broke your promise… You broke your promise…
“We need to go so you can get back before the storm gets even worse,” he said but to be honest, the last thing I wanted to do was make the trip to Voorhees and back. I was tired and I hurt everywhere. I just wanted to bury myself underneath a thick blanket. I was so cold. I picked up the coffee cup and took a sip. It was my favorite – café mocha.
Please, let me at least have this, I begged the Terrible Voice.
You must choose, It replied. The fancy coffee or the sandwich. You can’t have both.
After taking a deep breath with my eyes closed, I wrapped the sandwich back up and tucked it into the bag. I couldn’t help but notice the angry look on Jack’s face as he stared out the front window. I wanted to explain to him the coffee was more important since I was so tired but the Terrible Voice wouldn’t let me.
I put the vehicle in gear and backed out of the parking spot. The snow had picked up and when I slid to a stop at the end of the lodge’s lane, I had my first doubt about the trip. I kept it to myself but fifteen minutes later, Jack voiced his.
“The roads are awful,” he noted and focused on his cellphone. When the weather was cooperating, it was easy to take the winding highways at the posted fifty-five but I didn’t dare go above twenty-five miles an hour in the snow. At the sharper turns I dropped my speed even lower but the back of the Suburban still fishtailed on me. When I tried to stop at the next stop sign, I slid through it. I was thankful there were no other crazy people like us out on the roads. I thought for a minute and then pulled out my own phone. According to the radar, the heavier part of the storm was approaching in the shape of an arrowhead and the sharp point was affecting the area.
“What are you waiting for?” Jack asked. He was grumpy. That made two of us.
“I think if we took a right instead of a left, we might be able to drive out of the worse part. It’s farther but safer.” He took my phone from me and frowned at it.
“Fine,” he said but didn’t sound happy. “Whatever.”
Another fifteen minutes passed and the snow lightened a bit and the roads became less slippery. Some of the tension in my hands, arms, and shoulders lifted and we picked up time. I finished my coffee. I stuck it back into the console and eyed the paper bag. The coffee was burning a hole in my stomach and I needed something to sop it up.
May I have just half a sandwich? I asked the Terrible Voice.
Half a sandwich? Sure, as long as you do two hours on the treadmill tomorrow.
I tried to fish the sandwich out of the bag but struggled with the roads and keeping my eyes forward. Jack moved my hand away and for a second time, h
anded me the unwrapped sandwich. I took my first bite and chewed. I almost cried.
It took a lot of energy not to shove the rest of my sandwich into my mouth and then eat the sandwich I ordered for Jack. I was good, though. I stopped after half the sandwich and managed to wrap the rest up and put it back in the bag. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jack looking at me. He didn’t say anything but I could tell he was holding out. That was not something he typically did – he loved to play twenty questions – and I wondered just what in the hell was going on that had silenced him.
Don’t worry about him. You have pleased me by eating half. I will love you when you’ve put in your two hours on the treadmill tomorrow morning. If you give me another half an hour, I won’t even make you put your finger down your throat if the coast is clear after lunch. Two and a half hours, that’s all I’m asking…
“Be quiet,” I said aloud. I was tired of that damn voice.
“Strashnyi golos?” Jack asked. It was the Russian phrase he used when referring to the Terrible Voice.
“Da,”[4] I replied. I hoped Jack asked no more questions; I didn’t want to alert him any further to how bad my anorexia had become over the last few months. Three years had passed since my last bad flare up. Jack’s schedule for the immediate future was too busy to add worry over me to it. In our past, he helped me through a couple bad patches with my eating. Just thinking about those times brought tears to my eyes but I forced those tears back. Despite our long history, I had only cried twice in front of Jack and had been ashamed about both shows of weakness and I vowed never to let it happen again. I wasn’t about to break down because I was tired and having problems with food.
A few more minutes passed and we were still doing okay on the snowy roads. The silence was a little uncomfortable, as it had been since June. I just wanted to know why things had changed so much. I mean, I was pretty sure I knew why but when Jack and I left the cabin in June, I thought things were okay between us. And then came the performance in D.C. and everything between us went to hell. I felt my eyes mist up a bit and I focused on the road to keep from losing it.
Jack was looking at me again. He should have asked me questions about my decision to stop the meds or why I was making myself throw up again but he stayed silent. It was just further evidence things were just not normal with him. I was glad Jack asked no more questions. I didn’t like to talk about myself, probably the reason why therapy failed this time around.
We ventured further on but the snow was becoming bad again and I had to decrease my speed. The storm had changed shape and a bad feeling washed over me.
“Just pull over,” Jack said. “Right here, where there is a pull off.” I did as I was told and put the Suburban in park. Again, Jack focused on his cellphone. His face creased in anger and he tossed the phone into the backseat. He took his seatbelt off and got out of the car. Something was not right with Jack and it was troubling him to a point I had never seen before. This was more than just anger at me for what happened in June, my anorexia, and not taking my medications. Despite how he treated me the last few months, I still cared for him. We were close friends for so long and I hated to see him so torn up. As he paced in the light from the headlights, I turned in my seat and fetched Jack’s phone. It was locked but I knew the code. I was his assistant after all.
Text messages flooded the phone. They were all from Crystal and all very, very angry. You’re a piece of shit read one and another – motherfucker. I didn’t need to read any more than that and put the phone back where I found it. I was confident in assuming Jack and Crystal fought and Jack was going back to Voorhees either by order or his own volition. No, he would not have left on his own so Crystal must have thrown him out of the cabin and told him to go home.
Jack was pacing with his hands dug deep into the pockets of his parka. For as long as I’d known him, he paced when worried or angry or occupied and although I knew better than to interrupt him, I felt I needed to now. The temperature had dropped even more and a frigid slice of wind cut at my breath as I exited the truck. I wrapped my arms around myself and approached Jack. I kept my movement cautious both because of the slippery snow and Jack’s anger. When he saw me, he stopped moving but didn’t look happy.
“Talk to me, pozhaluysta,” I requested. “Please,” I repeated in English.
“It is too cold for you to be out here without a coat,” he replied and walked away from me and towards the metal guardrail. “Go back to the damn car,” Jack ordered in exasperation when he saw I followed him.
“Not until you tell me what’s going on,” I demanded but he turned around and walked away. I was so cold and miserable and I didn’t know what to do. I just knew my best friend was in trouble and in emotional pain. The pain was not recent and I was certain it was my fault after what happened at the cabin.
He continued pacing and I walked over to the guardrail. I was familiar with the area we were in and despite not being able to see anything beyond the guardrail, I knew a rather deep and rocky ravine lay just several feet away. In the summer it was a beautiful spot to view – great for a photo op – but it was nothing but pitch black at midnight in the middle of a snowstorm. A gust of icy wind knocked me about and my eyes watered. I was shivering to my core but I could be just as stubborn as Jack and I refused to go back to the car yet until he talked to me. We were playing a game of chicken. I was at a severe disadvantage, however, as he wore a nice warm parka.
Each minute ticked by like an hour. My jaw hurt from clenching it to keep my teeth from chattering. I tightened my grip around myself but it was becoming apparent I was going to lose this game. Jack’s stubbornness angered me; he was willing to let me freeze in the elements rather than talk to me about what was going on. It hit me hard and I turned back towards the ravine as the threat of tears hit me again.
I took a couple deep breaths and gained control of my emotions. I was stubborn but I was too cold for this shit and gave up. I walked back to the snow covered Suburban and got behind the wheel. I could wait for him but I was going to wait where it was warm.
“Mudak,” I said, calling him an asshole in Russian. As soon as the word left my lips, I felt bad. Yes, he was acting like an asshole but he wasn’t an asshole. Jack was far from being a true asshole; he was the kindest person I had ever met which is why I was so worried about his change in temperament over the last few months and especially the last few days. “What’s going on, Ivan?” I wanted the answer but he wasn’t willing to give it to me.
After about ten more minutes of pacing, I gave it another try and stood a couple feet in front of the running vehicle to see if the engine would provide me with a little warmth. Back and forth he went and after several minutes, I just couldn’t take it anymore. I put myself in his pace path, giving him no choice but to stop.
“I’m sorry, Jack,” I said. “I’m sorry I’m having problems eating and over exercising. I’m sorry I stopped the therapy and pills and didn’t tell you. I’m sorry for those words I spoke at the cabin that…” Jack stopped my words by putting his arms around me. The embrace was tight and I flashed back to the cabin.
“Like I said, it is too cold for you to be out here without a coat.” He steered me back to the vehicle. We climbed in and sat in the heat for several quiet moments. I was shaking but I didn’t know if it was from the cold or the tension or the hug. “I have had a lot on my mind,” he said. His voice was no longer rough. I recognized the voice; it was the one I knew for so long. I missed it the last few months.
“You know I always listen to you when you’re troubled. It’s killed me you haven’t shared what’s going on,” I said. “You have me worried.”
“I know. You have always listened to me and I saw how much my actions hurt you recently. I truly am sorry.” His eyes were so troubled. “I am not trying to keep anything from you. I just needed to make sure everything was settled first.”
“Settled?”
Jack was uncomfortable. He then leaned over and kissed me on the l
ips. The warmth I felt from the cabin in June flared and I brought my hand to his stubbly cheek and participated in the kiss. We had just twenty-four hours of intimacy that weekend but it touched my damaged soul. He pulled off his glove to touch my cheek. It was an action I missed these last five months. I closed my eyes and focused on the feel of his warm hand on my cheek. It calmed me.
“You are still so cold,” he said with a sad smile. “I have put you through great pain. I saw your sadness, saw you losing weight, but I was just so wrapped up in my thoughts. I have been such a mudak.” I felt bad. Even though I had called him an asshole while he paced, I didn’t like him calling himself one. “I am so, so sorry.”
“What’s going on, Ivan? Please, tell me,” I requested.
“I have come to two major decisions over the last five months and they both involve you.”
“Me?” I was confused.
“Yes, because you are such an important part of my life even though I have not treated you as such since that weekend at the cabin.” Jack held my hand in his as he spoke. “As you know since the accident, I stayed out of the public eye to focus on helping the children to heal. I think I spent more time with them the last two and a half years than all the time I spent with them the previous five.” Jack smiled and I knew he was thinking of his beautiful children and I smiled with him. “I enjoyed just being a regular dad. The time came to go back to work and I did enjoy creating the album with the guys but I missed the kids even though I was just in the backyard studio.”
“I thought it would be good for you to go back to work,” I said with a little worry. Where was he going with this?
“Do not get me wrong, Penny. It was good but bittersweet. I am different since the accident and my priorities changed. I have shared with you how much I am not looking forward to getting back in the swing of things. There is only one album left on our contract and I spoke with Tony and had him run the numbers and it is financially possible for me to retire and still provide for Millie and the kids. I mulled the information over and over since September and just this past Friday, I decided this new album will be the last one for the Ivy Brothers. I am not the one that goes crazy with money anyway but if I watch what is spent, we will be okay financially. I will be able to provide a comfortable life for everyone and send Millie and the children off to college. We will have one last tour so my official retirement date is still maybe eighteen months away.” Jack stopped talking and looked at me. I was a little shocked with what he said. Not about the retirement – I knew he had doubts about getting back into the business – but if he was going to be a full-time dad instead of a rockstar, where did that leave me? Taking care of him and his children was my life. It was the only thing I knew how to do.
Deceptions Page 5
