by Taras Ford
Nolen began to pace. “You could say that. Now find her. The longer she’s gone, the longer this production will be shut down.”
“You can’t do that!” Xenia screamed.
“Watch me. I want to know where she is, and you’d damned well better find out for me, or, so help me God, I’ll burn the entire damned studio to the ground.”
Sydney sat in Juan’s apartment, biting her nails. She’d been on hold for ten minutes, and her nerves couldn’t stand much more waiting.
“Ma’am, are you there?”
“Yes, I’m here,” she said anxiously.
“Patricia Hesser has been moved.”
Sydney felt her stomach clench. “Oh, no. They took her to Bellevue?” The nurse looked at the file, frowning. “No, they took her to Sail Brooke Institute in Rochester.”
“They? Her parents?”
“I can’t reveal anything further.”
“Wait—”
“Yes?”
“Please, I need to know how she was when she left. Is there anything you can tell me?”
“She was in stable condition. That’s all I can say.”
“Thank you,” Sydney said and hung up.
Trish’s parents had taken her to a mental institution. Dear God, what was going to happen to her? Her cell phone rang, and she reached for it to check the caller ID. It was Nolen. She let it ring, staring at it until it stopped. Minutes later, it buzzed, indicating that she had a message.
Dialing her voice mail, she listened to the first of her three messages. “Hi, sweetheart,” Nolen’s voice said. “You left this morning without saying goodbye. I was thinking about picking you up from the studio and taking you to Rochester today. I had Trish moved, and her parents won’t be anywhere near her. You were right, and I was wrong. I’m sorry, ok? You know I can’t take the silent treatment. I love you. See you this afternoon.” The second message said: “Sydney, this is Portia. Um, I called the hospital, and they, um, Trish is gone.
I’m worried. Um, I’m sorry, ok? We’ve got to work together for Trish. Um, call me, ok? Ok, bye.” Sydney sighed and waited for the third message.
The line beep and the final message played: “Where are you? Leaving like this solves nothing. I love you, damn it, and you love me. Don’t do this! I need to see you, Sydney, and you need to see me. This isn’t the way to solve things. Call me!”
Sydney erased all the messages and scooted back onto the sofa, fingering the shiny pink phone and thinking. Nolen had helped Trish get away from her parents. She was relieved and happy, but she wasn’t surprised. Nolen was capable of great kindness and consideration.
Now that he knew she was gone, he’d probably be obsessed with finding her. But she couldn’t let that happen yet. She needed some time away from him to clear her head. When she was near him she just couldn’t think logically. She responded with her heart.
Biting her lip nervously, she rubbed her finger over the LCD of the phone and pulled up his number. If she called him, then what? He’d want to meet, and he’d convince her that they belonged together. She didn’t want to be convinced by him. She wanted to be convinced by her own understanding of his love and his need to control everything. The phone rang in her hand. It was Nolen’s number again. She sent the call to voicemail then dialed a number she swore not to until she was solid in her career, her life.
“Hello?”
“Ma?”
“Sydney?” her mother gasped. “Oh God, is that you Sydney?”
“Hi.”
“Hi baby. I um, how are you?”
Hearing her mother’s voice hurt deeply. Her mother knew Portia’s number but didn’t call. She knew that was because of her father. But still this was her mom, and she needed her. “I’m fine. How are you? How’s Daddy?”
“He’s right here.”
There was a muffled conversation between her mother and father and she returned to the phone. “Daddy just left. He um, he misses you too. How are things in New York?” Sydney sighed. “Great. I got on with a ballet. The starring role Ma. It’s going to be great.”
“Oh Sydney, I’m so proud of you.”
“Are you?” she said unable to swallow the sob in her throat. “You haven’t called me.”
“Forgive me Sydney.”
“It’s okay Ma. I know how he is. I just needed to talk to you. Today I need you.” She closed her eyes and squeezed the phone in her hand. If her mother had said come home, she would do it. Give up and just go home. She didn’t have Portia, she didn’t have Trish. She had nothing but her broken heart to nurse. “Ma, I…”
“Listen to me Sydney. Listen honey. I am proud of you. You stepped out into the world on your own and I was terrified for you. I couldn’t sleep for months. I wanted to support you, but I didn’t know how to do it without begging you to come home. And I knew, Sydney, this is what you should do. Your dad found out I was keeping your cell phone on. He closed the account. I’m sorry baby. I should have called you more, but I’m really proud of you.”
Sydney nodded. “I needed to hear that Ma.”
“I love you sweetheart. I do.”
“Does he hate me?”
“He’s a stubborn, prideful man. That’s his problem. Not yours Sydney. If you ever want to come home, if you need me, I’m here. I swear it. I’ll do better. Ok?”
“Thanks Ma. Tell him I love him. I miss him.”
“I will.”
“Bye.”
“Bye baby.”
She turned off the phone. She leaned back on the sofa, holding the phone to her chest and the tears stopped. Hearing her mother’s voice was the balm she need. Slipping down the sofa she curled up and closed her eyes. She’d have to decide what to do next.
Sydney reclined in the sofa chair. Soon she drifted to sleep. Her heart remained heavy, and terrible fears played out in her dreams. Trish’s suffering, Nolen and his schemes, all the consequences she suffered for not thinking with her head and following her heart. The persistent knocking at the door came as a relief. She wiped at her eyes feeling the moisture gathered behind her lids as she wept in her sleep. Sydney wasn’t sure if she were to answer Juan’s door. She had imposed on him enough.
“Zenter Stage! He sayz yo’re in here! Open de door!”
“Madame?” Sydney mumbled. She rose. Dexter, Juan’s dog made her stumble and she grabbed the back of the chair to straighten. Why was Madame there? Was she still dreaming? She undid the top lock and opened the door to find the choreographer impatiently waiting. Her heavy black shawl draped around her shoulders had long fringe that nearly swept the floor. She glared up at Sydney with cool angry eyes.
“Madame? How did you find me?”
“De Pink Man tellz me where to find you. Step aside.”
Sydney allowed her to enter. Her heartbeat rapidly and slammed hard against her breast. She closed the door. Madame turned her nose up to Juan’s decorating then narrowed her gaze back on Sydney. “Zo, hear is where the Butterfly goez. Hiding out, quitting!”
“I have some personal things going on…”
“Silenze!” Madame slowly unraveled her shawl but made no move to set it aside. She shook her head making the next of gray curls bounce like a sponge, then fixed Sydney with a sad disappointed stare. “I understand dat you are hungry Zenter Stage. Hungry for fame, for love, for your identity, no?”
“Yes mam.”
“Den listen to me. Wateva you think you’ve lost you cannot recover if you don’t hold on to you first. You are a dancer. De best I’ve seen in a long time. It is yo’re life breath. Not diz man, not your pride or shame, dat iz meaningless. The gift of dance iz where you heal, and how you belong. Abandon it, and you will never be whole.
Uze it! Uze it and you will overcome whateva it iz that troublez you. Do you understand my wordz?”
“I think so mam.”
Madame seemed relieved. Sydney however stood there stunned. At best she thought she had only a sliver of Madame’s respect. Now she knew she had much more.
And Madame advice cut her deep. Dancing is all she ever wanted to do. It’s where she found her peace.
“Den I will zee you back at the studio? Tomorrow? No?”
“Yes.”
Madame Gustav gave a curt bow and headed to the door. Sydney put a hand to her shoulder. “Thank you, for coming.”
Madame cut her eyes and frowned. “Clean up yo mess! We have no time for diz!” Sydney smiled and walked her out the door.
Nolen stepped out of the limo and pulled his coat closed. The club was locked up tight. He walked up to the front door and banged on the security gate. Obviously she wasn’t there. Running his hands through his hair, he tried to think where to go next. She wouldn’t go home. She knew he’d look for her there. She had to be with this Ricky fellow. He turned and saw a vintage Chevy park. The engine rumbled and coughed as he turned off the ignition.
“What the hell do you want?” Ricky demanded, walking around the car toward Nolen, who glared at him but didn’t answer. Ricky charged toward him. “I said, what the hell do you want, man?” he shouted.
Nolen grabbed Ricky’s collar and forced him up against the gated entrance. “Where is she?” he growled.
“Answer me, damn it!”
Ricky’s eyes narrowed. He shoved at Nolen with all his might to force him back. “Get your fucking hands off me!”
Nolen fell back a couple of steps but kept his balance. Clenching his fists, he glared at Ricky. “Tell me where she is now!”
“She left you? Well, good for her!”
“Are you saying that she isn’t with you?”
“I’m not telling you shit!”
“You wouldn’t want to start pushing me, Ricky, my man, because, trust me, I push back!” Ricky shook his head, snickering. “You don’t scare me. Your money and power don’t mean anything here, buddy. It won’t help you hold on to her. She’s too special for an arrogant asshole like you. And when she does come to me, I’ll remind her of that!”
Nolen punched Ricky hard in the face, sending him to the ground. Ricky fell over, unprepared for the swift kick that Nolen delivered to his gut. He curled up, coughing, as Nolen knelt in front of him, glaring. “You should be scared, because if you ever go near her or try to come between us, my money and power will be the least of your worries. I’ll take you out myself.”
Wheezing, Ricky sat up, holding his stomach and grimacing in pain as he matched Nolen’s glare. “Like I said, if she does come around here, it’s best you let me know!” he dropped a business card on him.
Nolen stared at him a moment longer, then rose. “Be smart, Ricky. Don’t mess with me.” He gazed up at the neon sign, which was turned off. “I always thought of owning a club,” he said and smirked. He headed back to the limo. The driver was waiting, holding the door open for him.
“Sir, I hate to—”
“Not now, Annemarie,” Nolen snapped as he watched Ricky through the car window. The man struggled to rise, holding his side. Nolen told the driver to take him to Sydney’s apartment. He hadn’t thought that she would go home, but he didn’t know where else she could be.
Sydney woke to the sound of Dexter's yelping bark and opened her eyes to see Juan stepping inside with a grocery bag. He smiled at her. “King Ding-a-ling showed his ass today!” he said excitedly.
She sat up on the couch, staring at him. “He did what?”
Juan sashayed into the kitchen and came back out, minus the grocery bag.
“He strutted his fine ass in there, looking for you, honey. Ms. Bitch said she was going to fire you, telling him you blew off rehearsal. Your boyfriend went nuts!”
Pulling her legs up under her, she shook her head. “Nolen,” she mumbled.
“Then he started checking out Ms. Juanita. I nearly fainted under the stare of those sexy brown eyes, and I’m sorry to tell you, Ms. Thang, but if you weren’t my home girl, I might have had to step to that man. Whew, Jesus!” He fanned himself, still grinning.
“Why? Why was he in your face?” she asked, alarmed.
“Don’t know, honey, but he asked me if we were friends and where you were.”
“What did you tell him?”
“Calm down, Ms. Thang. Ms. Juanita kept your secret, honey, but if he’d kissed me or made a move on me, I’d have sung like a canary!”
Sydney couldn’t even smile.
“You haven’t heard the best part yet!” Juan said, sitting down beside her.
“What’s the best part?”
“He shut down the show!”
“What?” She gasped.
“He told Ms. Bitch that if she doesn’t find you, there won’t be any show.”
“He can’t do that! The dancers and a lot of other people depend on that production for their livelihood!
What the hell is wrong with him?”
Juan narrowed his eyes. “What’s wrong with him? What’s wrong with you, girl?” Sydney got up and started to pace. “He’s gone too far. He has to stop trying to control every damn thing.”
“And you think hiding here and driving that man nuts will make him stop? This is your fault, Ms. Thang.
Why do you think I sent Cruella Deville here? To talk some sense into your ass. You need to grow up, and fast, because Ms. Juanita needs her paycheck!”
Sydney stopped and looked at him. “What do you mean, grow up?”
“That man may be a bit overboard when it comes to you, but he loves you. I saw it, honey, and Ms.
Juanita is never wrong. You’re punishing him for hurting you, and it’s childish! If you’ve got a problem with your man, you face him and you hold him accountable. You’re pushing his buttons and then acting all shocked when he starts pushing back!”
“That’s not true. I love him.”
“Then act like it! You’re not doing Goldilocks any favors by destroying your relationship with that man.
He can make things better for your friend, and you can make it happen, but instead, you run from him. That’s just stupid, honey.”
Sydney looked at her phone. Juan got up from the couch, calling Dexter to follow him to the kitchen.
She picked it up and a tear splattered onto the phone as she dialed Nolen’s number.
“Where are you?” he asked softly.
“Nolen, you need to stop this.”
“Tell me where you are and I’ll pick you up,” he said.
“No.”
“Where are you, Sydney?” he demanded.
“I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.”
“Why would you do this? Why would you hurt me by leaving and not even saying why?”
“I tried to talk to you last night. I tried to tell you the whys, but you wouldn’t listen.”
“I listened to you!”
“No, you didn’t, and I can’t have you treating me like I’m a possession. It hurts, Nolen, and it scares me.” She heard him blowing out a breath into the phone. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I just . . .” His voice trailed off into silence.
“All I wanted was some time to clear my head. That’s all.”
“Well, you’ve had time. Now come home to me, and let’s work it out.”
“No.”
“No? Damn it, Sydney, I can’t take this. Don’t you see that this is killing me? Don’t you realize how much I love you?”
“My God, Nolen! It’s not just you in this relationship. I swear, sometimes I really don’t know you at all.”
“Know me? You’re the only person who really knows me. I let you in and I can’t lose you now. Damn it, please stop with these games and just come home!”
“No! You’re reacting just like Marilynn said you would. Why on earth would you close Xenia’s show?”
“Fuck Marilynn! To hell with Xenia! What do you want, Sydney? Tell me what you want, and I’ll do it, anything to get you to come home.”
“I want you to stop lashing out at people. I want you to give me a few days to recover and think about things—just a few days, and then I’ll come home, and we
can talk. Right now you’re too angry and you can’t hear what I’m saying. If I come to you now, you’ll just think that I’m giving you your way.”
“Is that what you think?” he asked. “Do you actually think that it’s all about me getting my way? That I’m losing my fucking mind because I’m not getting my way!”
Overwhelmed by his neediness and her own desire to yield to him, Sydney began to cry. She didn’t know how to handle his demands, and she was scared of losing him or, even worse, losing herself. “Please, Nolen, stop.”
“Fine! Take all the time you need. I won’t bother you anymore.” He hung up abruptly.
“Nolen?”
Juan came back out to find her devastated. He pulled her into his arms and rocked her. “Honey, it’s ok.
It’s really ok.”
Todd sat next to Trish, watching her sleep. She’d been sedated when they’d brought her to Sail Brooke.
When she’d come to, he was out in the hall, handling her admittance paperwork. Finding herself alone, she’d completely lost it. Her hysteria had alerted the hospital staff on the floor, and they’d given her something to calm her. He hadn’t left her side since then. The doctors had asked him to get some rest, but he’d refused to budge until he knew she was safe. He was still wearing the same soiled clothes from yesterday.
Trish moaned and turned over, then opened her eyes, looking into his.
“Hi, you,” he said softly, smoothing her hair from her face.
“Hi,” she said weakly.
Todd blinked in surprise. The doctors had said that her catatonic state after the coma wasn’t medical.
All her neurological tests had come back fine. They’d marveled at how quickly she’d recovered from the toxins that she’d poured into her system. Apparently Trish was stronger than they’d all thought.
“How do you feel?”
She looked past Todd and surveyed the room. “Where am I?”
“In the hospital.”
Trish burst into tears. “I’m so sorry.”
Todd pulled her to him. “No, don’t apologize. You’re ok. I won’t let you get hurt again.” Trish shook her head. “He’s found me.”
“Don’t think of him. Look at me.” He turned her face gently toward his. “Focus on me and you, ok?
