Lust, Loathing and a Little Lip Gloss

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Lust, Loathing and a Little Lip Gloss Page 21

by Kyra Davis


  He squatted by the side of the tub. “What the fuck?” he said again.

  “There’s a very good explanation for this,” I said in a tiny whisper.

  Scott narrowed his eyes. “I find that highly unlikely.”

  Marcus smiled apologetically, unwilling to add his own voice to our conversation.

  Scott shook his head, and for once I really had no idea what he was thinking or what he planned to do.

  “Scott…” I started.

  “Tell me later,” he said. And before I could react he pulled the curtain back closed. I heard the bathroom door open and close again and then Scott’s muffled voice talking to Kane. “You know,” he said, “Venus recently bought a painting at auction that I think you’ll appreciate. It’s titled Destruction of Everything. It’s way up your alley. Why don’t we go see it now?”

  “I’m not up to seeing Venus today,” Kane said, his voice filled with sarcasm. “I’m out of antacids.”

  “I hear ya,” Scott said. I could hear the forced joviality in his voice, but perhaps Kane couldn’t. Few people knew Scott’s tones as well as I did. “She’s not going to be home for a few hours, though. So you won’t have to deal with her. Or maybe we should take the…um…dog for a walk.”

  “The whole reason I put Avernus in the backyard is so I could avoid a walk. It’s pouring outside.”

  “Hey, I love the rain. It’s good for the sinuses.”

  “No, it’s not,” Kane countered. “Rain brings mold. That’s horrible for sinuses, and you hate my dog.”

  “I don’t hate animals, Kane,” Scott said flatly. “And how can someone who loves the paranormal as much as you do not appreciate a dark and stormy night?”

  “It’s early afternoon.”

  “What’s the deal? Does everything have to be perfect for you? Let’s just take the dog for a walk!”

  “The painting makes you uncomfortable.”

  “Well, what did you expect?” I heard Scott say, echoing my thoughts. “Your mother killed herself, bled all over a canvas. Not only did you keep the canvas, but you hung it on your fucking wall! Kane, you know I like you, man. But that’s seriously messed up.”

  “I know it’s hard to understand,” Kane said slowly. “But if you think about it, this painting is a part of my mother, literally and figuratively. I’ll never lose her as long as I have this.”

  “Yeah, that’s great. Can we get out of here? I have houses to show and you have a hotel to check into so—”

  “I canceled my reservation.”

  Marcus’s eyes went back into his head. If Kane had nowhere to go what was to keep him from hanging out here for the rest of the day? How long before he discovered us?

  “Why’d you do that?” Scott asked. “I thought you couldn’t stand the smell of varnish.”

  “I’ve decided that it’s a matter of control. The smell will only bother me if I let it bother me, you know?”

  “No, but that’s me. Well, then, if you’re not going to a hotel and you won’t go on a walk then can we at least have this meeting downstairs?”

  “You need to learn about control, too,” Kane said. “You can’t let your fear of a picture determine where you feel comfortable.”

  “I’ll work on it, but not now, all right?”

  “Fine, but first…”

  Kane let his sentence hang there unfinished and I heard the sound of a drawer opening and closing. “This is why I called you here today. You may sit in the study while you read it over if you like.”

  “Great, let’s do that—wait a minute, what is this? You’re rewriting the terms of Sophie’s escrow?”

  I gasped and started to rise, but Marcus held me tight, making movement impossible. “Shut up and keep still,” Marcus said in a barely audible whisper.

  “I doubt the changes will surprise her,” I heard Kane say as I tried to constrain myself. “You already told her how I felt about selling to her before she was able to make contact.”

  “I told her what you said, but are you really going to try to make it a legal stipulation?” Scott sounded incredulous, perhaps even indignant. “You might as well start making out a check for twenty grand because there’s no way she’s gonna go for this. It’s crazy.”

  “Are you saying that I’m not in my right mind, Scott?” There was something in Kane’s voice that made me shiver.

  “No,” Scott faltered, “I think you’re as sane as…Freud.”

  During my marriage to Scott he had used this expression a lot. The people he used it on never knew what to make of it. None of them realized how whacked Scott thought Freud was, no one except me. It was our inside joke, and he was using it now. It shouldn’t have made me smile, but it did.

  “But I do think that she might object to this, Kane. I know Sophie, you can only push her so far.”

  “She wants the house. She’s connected to it,” Kane proclaimed.

  “Have you ever actually heard her say that?”

  “No, but if you ask her I’m sure she’ll admit it. Even when her boyfriend urges her to leave she insists on staying. It’s rather odd that she can’t explain that connection…that she doesn’t know…but perhaps she’ll figure it out in time.”

  “You’re losing me, dude.”

  “It’s nothing you need to worry about. Go make yourself at home in the study and read it all over. I’ll join you in a moment.”

  “Why just me? Why don’t we both go to the study?” Scott asked, perhaps a bit too quickly.

  “If you must know I’m going to use the bathroom. I’ll only be a—”

  “Don’t do that,” Scott said.

  “Why?”

  “Because…because I…because…”

  “What’s in the bathroom, Scott?”

  “Nothing! I—”

  But before he could continue the door swung open.

  There was another silence and then I heard slow footsteps approach the tub. Marcus started mouthing the words “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God” over and over again and then the footsteps stopped and I could see Kane’s shadow standing on the other side of the curtain…and then I heard the sound of someone throwing up.

  The shadow withdrew instantly. “What’s wrong with you?” Kane exclaimed.

  “I don’t know,” Scott said hoarsely. “I think this must be the sudden onset of the stomach flu.” Then I heard him gag. “I literally just felt it coming on, like, a minute ago.”

  “Why didn’t you want me to come in here?” Kane asked, but now his voice was strained with what sounded like disgust. I was feeling a little disgusted, too. Whatever Scott had upchucked he hadn’t yet flushed down and the smell was quickly getting bad.

  “I was trying to tell you that I was going to need to use it first, that’s all—” another gag “—I just…couldn’t…get…the words…out, oh, man, here I go again—”

  “I’ll use the bathroom down the hall,” Kane said quickly. I listened to Kane’s footsteps make a fast retreat as Scott managed to regurgitate a little more.

  The moment the door closed Scott flushed the toilet and pulled back the shower curtain again. “There!” he whispered, glaring down at me. “I literally made myself sick trying to save your ass. Now do you believe that I’m sorry about the shit I pulled ten years ago?”

  “Are you really trying to say that you vomited just for me?” I asked, wriggling against Marcus in an attempt to look up at Scott. “I’ve never known you to be able to make yourself sick on demand, Scott.”

  “Have you ever known me to try? Jeez, Sophie! Are you ever going to give me credit for anything?”

  “Ladies,” Marcus interjected, “perhaps this isn’t the best time for a catfight seeing that Norman Bates is just down the hall.”

  “Right. Should we stay in the bathroom?” I asked.

  “God no,” Marcus said. “Kane might come back to ensure that Scott didn’t contaminate his monogrammed Lauren towels with his bile…then again, Kane might see that as an artistic expression. Either
way, we need to skiddoodle.”

  Scott nodded and reached out his hand to help me up. For half a second I hesitated, a fact that was not lost on Scott.

  “Sophie, I know you hate it, but right now you need me.”

  He grabbed my hand and I didn’t resist. Carefully, I climbed off of Marcus and out of the tub. Marcus came out a second later. “C’mon, we don’t have a lot of time,” he pointed out. “And by the way, you two can stop holding hands now.”

  I looked down in horror to see that I had forgotten to jerk my hand away from Scott. An oversight I quickly corrected. I looked up at Scott’s face expecting to see a smirk, but his expression was completely grave.

  “Kane has a high bed and it has a bedskirt,” he said. “Let me check to make sure the coast is clear and then you two hurry under there. When you hear us go down the stairs go to the door and listen for another two minutes. I’ll do everything I can to get him and keep him in the study. If I can’t do that, I’ll be loud about it so if you don’t hear anything after those minutes have passed you two run quietly downstairs and out the front door. Got it?”

  “My, my, look who has an efficient side,” Marcus said with a cluck of his tongue.

  “Yeah, I’m very efficient when it comes to basic survival. Stay here.” He cracked open the door and then slipped out and tiptoed to the bedroom door as Marcus and I peeked after him. After seeing that Kane wasn’t in the hall he waved for us to come out and Marcus and I crawled across the room and dragged ourselves under the bed. As soon as we were completely under, I stuck my head out from behind the bedskirt. “What does Kane want to do to my escrow?” I asked urgently.

  “Later!” Scott whispered, and leaning down shoved my head back under the bed just as we all heard the sound of a toilet flushing in the distance. A moment later there was the brief sound of running water before a door opened and Kane’s voice carried down the hall. “Ah,” he said. “You’re done.”

  “Yeah, I think I’m okay now,” Scott said. “Let’s go down to the study and look this stuff over.”

  “Are you sure you’re up for that?” Kane asked, although I couldn’t detect any real or even fake concern in his tone.

  “Yeah, I need to stay put for a little while anyway. Don’t want to be throwing up while on the road. Plus there’s no way I’m going to talk to Sophie about this new escrow agreement until you and I hash it out.”

  My fists clenched at my side at the very mention of those papers, and Marcus put a hand on my back, as if to keep me from lunging out and attacking Kane’s ankles.

  “There’s nothing to hash out. Either she agrees or she’s out.” Now his voice was getting fainter. Scott and Kane were moving farther down the hall. Marcus and I listened intently as the footsteps and voices moved down the stairs until we couldn’t hear them at all. A moment later Marcus and I rolled out from under the bed and crouched by the door, both of us silently counting the seconds until two minutes were up.

  “Now,” Marcus said, getting up and pulling my arm.

  I tried to pull away. “I want to grab one of his photo albums.”

  “Are you crazy?” Marcus asked. “We don’t have time for this!”

  “A second, Marcus,” I insisted, rushing over to the window and lifting the lid of the hope chest. “The pictures he has in here…I just need them.”

  “Sophie, if you take anything from this room—”

  “I have to do this, Marcus!”

  “—Kane will think Scott took it and he’ll come after him.”

  My hand froze on top of the album I meant to seize. These pictures were of my family! Kane had no right to them. But then there was Scott, the man who had screwed me over in more ways than I could count. The man who I had imagined torturing on more than one quiet night. The man who had just, to use his words, saved my ass. I withdrew my hand.

  “Okay,” I whispered. “Let’s go.”

  Without waiting another second, Marcus yanked me out of the room and down the stairs. Just then we heard a dog barking excitedly in the backyard and then Kane’s voice coming from the study. “Relax, Scott. I’m just going to find out what Avernus is upset about.” But it didn’t matter anymore, because Marcus and I were quietly closing the front door. And then we were running. Marcus jumped in the driver’s seat of his car while I quickly took my place beside him. With what must have been enormous restraint against adrenaline, he slowly pulled out of our parking spot and drove down the street. His speed was steady and inconspicuous. I watched Kane’s house get smaller and smaller in the side mirror. I was furious with Kane and relieved as hell to be away from that house.

  And, to my great annoyance, I was scared for Scott. He was now alone with Kane, and Kane was clearly out of his mind. Scott’s well-being wasn’t my concern. Or rather, his lack of well-being had long been something I had hoped for, and yet now, when there was the real potential for danger, I only wanted Scott to be safe.

  And perhaps that was the biggest danger of all.

  17

  Some people drink to forget. I drink in hopes of finding the courage to remember.

  —The Lighter Side of Death

  MARCUS STARED MUTELY AT THE RAIN AS IT HAMMERED DOWN ON HIS windshield.

  “We did get out without getting caught,” I pointed out timidly.

  “By Kane,” Marcus corrected coolly. “We were absolutely caught by Scott, and if he hadn’t decided to be decent for once in his life, we would both be wearing orange jumpsuits right now. Do you know what I look like in orange, Sophie? Do you!”

  “But he didn’t turn us in.” Marcus was driving too fast now and the colorless buildings that lined California Street were a blur, indistinct from the gray sky that encased them. “He said he was sorry.”

  “Are you going to get mushy just because he had the courtesy to vomit? Mother birds do that for their chicks all the time, and you know what they do the minute their chicks start looking old? Abandon them and get replacements. Don’t be Scott’s chick. Let him regurgitate on somebody else.”

  “Please! I have no interest in being Scott’s chick! I’m just surprised, that’s all. I thought he…or that he didn’t…it doesn’t matter.” I pressed the base of my palms into my forehead in an attempt to press back the confusion. “What does matter is that Kane has been stalking my family for years. And I mean years, Marcus!” I told him about the pictures I had found. By the time I was done he was turning the car onto my street, his speed having decreased as if in complement to his dissipating anger.

  “Honey, I know you love that house, but this Kane guy is mental. Like Manson-mental. Can’t you buy a different house? You know, sane people sell property, too.”

  “I’m not leaving my—wait a minute, that’s Leah’s car.”

  Marcus pulled up to my house and squinted at the two figures huddled inside the Volvo that was backed into my driveway. “She brought Mama Katz with her,” he said with a smile. “I smell a guilt trip coming.”

  “Why would she spring Mama on me?” I muttered.

  Marcus shrugged and leaned over to give me a kiss on the cheek. “As much as I’d love to catch up with your brood, last night’s darling little man only lives ten minutes from here and he’s a massage therapist. And after the stress of this afternoon, I need a good rubdown.”

  “Lucky you.” I started to open the door, but stopped and turned to give him another hug. “What Scott did for me was nothing compared with what you did today. I know you didn’t want to go into that house, but you did, and you held me still when I wanted to spring out and kill Kane. You are the best friend a girl could ever ask for.”

  “You’re just figuring that out now?” Marcus asked sarcastically, but I knew he was touched. He gently shooed me out of the car. “Your mother went through nine hours of labor to bring you into this world and now you keep her waiting? Did she raise you to behave like this?”

  I smiled and waved as I slammed the door behind me and then rushed over to the Volvo where Leah, wearing an A-line hoode
d cloak, was already out and opening the door for Mama. She held an oversize black umbrella in place to protect our mother from the torrents of rain. The umbrella served more for effect than anything else since Mama was already bundled up in her cheery yellow raincoat, her wild, white curls tucked into a clear plastic bonnet. The look was the antithesis of chic and that bothered me some. My mother used to care about fashion when my father was alive.

  Now the two women were standing there, looking at me with determined expressions. Instantly I knew I was in trouble.

  “This,” Leah said, “is an intervention.”

  My mind raced through the various addictions I had indulged over the last few months. I hadn’t had that much alcohol or sex lately, which meant there was only one vice left.

  “Studies show there are health benefits associated with drinking five cups of coffee a day,” I said. “According to a recent Japanese study I could even kick it up to eight.”

  “This isn’t about the caffeine, mamaleh,” Mama said and then clucked her tongue. “Look at you, you’re not even wearing a decent coat! You’ll catch pneumonia at this rate. Come, let’s bring this intervention business inside.”

  Leah nodded sagely and she and Mama led the way up to my front door. As I fished for my keys I noticed that Mama’s hand was on the doorknob, her arthritic fingers caressing its curvature.

  “Do you want to open it?” I asked, unsure why that might appeal to her, but nonetheless certain it would. She smiled and took the keys. It seemed to take an hour for her to twist it in the lock, although it was probably less than thirty seconds. As she opened the door she sucked in a sharp breath before stepping over the threshold. Leah and I followed her. Unlike my more practical relatives, I was wearing a totally-adorable-but-not-all-that-waterproof coat. It took considerable dexterity and strength to pull the waterlogged fabric from my body.

 

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