Fairplay, Denver Cereal Volume 6
Page 16
“Is it?”
“Mostly, yes,” Sandy said. “When I feel like I give too much, I change those relationships. And mostly, I receive so much love. From Rachel.”
She caressed her baby’s head.
“You.”
She touched his shoulder. He leaned forward to kiss her.
“Like tonight,” Sandy said. “Sissy and I worked most of the afternoon getting ready for Noelle’s birthday. When Noelle arrived, she was so excited about her day with Mike, she didn’t really notice.”
“I know,” Aden said.
“Mom would say that wasn’t fair. Why should she work so hard and get so little appreciation?” Sandy shook her head. “She’d want Noelle to notice every tiny gift, every decoration, everything.”
“And you?”
“I’m delighted she’s so happy,” Sandy said. “A year ago, I’d just met her. I can tell you, she wasn’t this happy. My love for her had me ask for Mike’s help. Mike’s love for Jill allowed him to easily say yes. Charlie, Nash, and Teddy’s love for Noelle allowed them to take up some of her payments so she can go.”
“Love is the currency,” Aden said.
“And the only thing that really matters to me.”
Aden smiled.
“Seth said that I lived with Andy until I was three,” Sandy said. “He thinks that’s why I’m not like Mom, I mean Patty. Andy was very loving and so am I. I hope we can make up for it with Sissy and Charlie.”
“What did Charlie say to your answer?”
“He hugged me and said he loved me,” Sandy smiled. “He’s a really great person.”
“You lived with them for most of their lives,” Aden said. “They’ve had you to love and care for them. Your love has made a difference.
“I hope so,” Sandy said.
“That’s all we can do – love and hope,” Aden said. “Do you want to talk about Andy?”
“Tomorrow,” Sandy said. “I need some time to think.”
He leaned over to kiss her. He told her he loved her and lay down. She snuggled with Rachel for a few more moments and set her down. Lying down, Sandy sighed.
“What’s the sigh for?” Aden asked.
“It’s amazing to be so loved.”
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED and SEVENTY
Flawed
Saturday early-morning—3 A.M. PDT
Seth woke with a jolt. He’d fallen asleep at his piano again. Or some piano, some really nice piano. Where was he? He looked around the room until he saw the moon reflecting against the ocean. He nodded. He was in Los Angeles to work on the film. Ava had come last night to tell him about Andy. His heart pinched with sorrow. He looked at the piano.
Should he play?
Should he sleep?
Yawning, he knew he had a long day ahead. He put some weight on his feet and gasped. Pain ripped through him. He eased back down on the bench. Thinking the pain might be a sign from God for him to play, Seth’s fingers moved across the keys. His fingers and hands ached.
He’d forgotten his medication and Chinese Medicine supplements. He was going to have to get out of this room to get them. He had to have the pills on board to be able to work today. He had to work or the studio would kill him. His Saint Jude related illness had already delayed the film’s production by almost a month.
He closed his eyes and said a silent prayer for strength. Using the metal arm crutches, he made his way to the door. He had no idea where his bedroom was located in this sprawling house. He hobbled out into the hall and looked both ways. His nose picked up the distinct odor of a swimming pool or maybe a hot tub. He had just decided to sleep on the couch when he saw a yellow post-it note on the floor.
“Your room is at the end of the hall.” There was another post-it with an arrow on it.
Seth peered down the hall he was in and turned to look down the connecting hallway. The moist ocean air must have made the post-it fall off the wall. Being the great detective, he reasoned that most people put the sticky part at the top. The arrow pointed to his left. His room was on this hall.
Or maybe it was down the other hall.
Chuckling at himself, he began a slow journey across the hall. Along the floor were yellow post-its with arrows on them. The half-opened door to his left had a yellow post-it with an X on it. That could mean this was his room or that it wasn’t. Seth smiled. Somewhere in the afterlife, Mitch was laughing at him.
He pushed open the door. Wearing only her underwear and a T-shirt, Ava lay sprawled out on the bed. Her long legs had kicked off the sheet and her arms held her pillow in the embrace of deep sleep. While the reflection off the water danced along her perfect skin, the moonlight held her in a loving caress. Her hair had grown to about an inch long. She styled it in a cute male bob, but tonight, it stuck up to rival Sid Vicious. He smiled at the idea of Sid’s head on her luscious body.
“Seth?” Even thick with sleep, Ava’s gorgeous voice was stirring.
“Just me,” he said. “Do you know where my bag is?”
She rolled over to look at him. He took her extended hand and sat down next to her on the bed. Her eyes were soft with love. He smiled.
“How do you do it?” she asked.
“Do what?” Seth asked. “Focus on my music to the exclusion of normal human interaction? Abandon my girlfriend after she arrives from Denver so I can feel sorry for myself? Treat people like servants?”
“What are you saying?” Ava shook her head at his words.
“Things I know about myself,” Seth said. “I’m not great at regular human interaction. I do shitty things like walk away from you to play the piano only moments after you have flown all this way and been a great friend.”
“Who did you treat like a servant?” Ava asked. She gestured around the room. “I feel really burdened in this luxury Malibu Colony home after my run on the private beach. And that trip on the private jet? I played with Clara most of the way here. Oh the horror! Did I mention the gourmet dinner? That was sheer torture.”
“You say that now but…”
“I’m not going to have this conversation with you,” Ava sat up. “It’s dumb. If I have a problem, I’ll tell you. And before you say it, I know you love Andy. You should. Schmidty and I talked about her over dinner. She was amazing. If you didn’t love her, I’d wonder what was wrong with you. I love Sandy and the idea that her mother was like her… I love her too. So of course, you’re sad. I’m sad too. The whole world should mourn the loss of such an incredible woman.”
He turned away from her and her words.
“I unpacked your bag,” Ava said. “Let me get your pills.”
Before he could say a word, she hopped up. She came back from the bathroom a few minutes later with a glass of water, his medication and supplements. When he took the pills and water from her, she turned in place and left the room. He used the bathroom and changed. She returned with a glass of green goo and a plate of brown rice, steamed vegetables and spiced chicken.
“You have to eat if you’re going to take your meds,” Ava said. “Maresol sent along your juice recipes.”
She held it out to him. He groaned.
“It looks gross but it’s good,” Ava said. “It was handmade by your personal slave. Don’t be a baby.”
He smirked at her and drank it down. She opened the sliding door to their balcony and set his dinner on a table between two lounge chairs. He followed her out.
“So, how do you do it?” Ava asked.
“Do what?” Seth asked.
“Play such incredible music,” Ava said. “You should have seen Schmidty and me. We were bawling our eyes out in the hallway.”
“You were?”
Ava nodded.
“Schmidty recorded it. I guess his dad said you play a lot when you’re working but don’t remember what you play. Some of your best stuff comes while you’re working on another piece.”
“The tricky part is that the studio owns whatever I create now,” Seth said.
�
�That’s what Schmidty said. Did you know his name is James? That people used to call him Jammy?”
“I gave him the name,” Seth said.
“Figures,” Ava said. “Eat.”
He did as instructed. She waited until he was almost done before asking again, “How do you do it?”
“I don’t really know,” Seth said. “It’s the joy of my life, my very soul, and one of the hardest things I’ve learned to live with. Everything in my life is defined by my music. Every relationship, every job, every investigation, there’s not an area of my life that doesn’t blossom because of it and suffer under the burden. I can’t control the well of music that grows inside me. I’ve tried. The only thing that works is alcohol and lots of it. If I’m not drinking, I’m playing.”
“How did it happen tonight?”
“I read Mitch’s letter and fell into whatever came,” Seth said. “I played until the well was empty and slept. Why are you being so great about this?”
“You mean I’m supposed to be mad?” Ava asked.
“Most women feel slighted.”
“I don’t,” Ava said. “I’m kind of a touch it, feel it person. I don’t spend a lot of time thinking about…”
Ava shrugged.
“About?”
“I don’t have any idea what causes some people to go crazy over what isn’t happening,” Ava said. “So I don’t really know. I try to do my best, be my best, but all I can deal with is what’s right here and right now. And right here, right now, I’m sitting on the balcony of this lovely home with my favorite person in the world.”
“If you need more?”
“I’ll tell you,” Ava said. “I’ve seen Maresol be very clear with you about what she needs. She’s a good role model. Sandy too. They love you and accept you. When they need something they ask and you give them whatever they ask. That’s pretty easy.”
“You don’t think that’s making you do all the work?”
“Of knowing what I want?” Ava laughed. “I think that’s kind of my job. Speaking of jobs…”
“Yes?”
“The FBI called,” Ava said. “They want to hire us, the whole team. The CBI wants to hire us. Of course, we’re also now getting our own lab in the new DPD building. My Captain wants to build on our success to create a bigger world class back up lab. You know, kind of an FBI lab West. He wants me and Bob to run it.”
“Lots of opportunity,” Seth said.
“I know! What are you going to do about the song?” Ava asked. “Does the studio own it?”
“I don’t remember it,” Seth said. “Jammy won’t remember he recorded it until six months or something after we’re home.”
“Sounds perfect,” Ava said. “What do you think I should do?”
“What do you want to do?”
“What do I want? Anything?”
“Anything.”
Ava hopped to her feet and went inside.
“Come and see what I want,” she said from inside.
Smiling, Seth went to join her.
~~~~~~~~
Saturday early-morning—4:35 A.M. MDT
Tanesha stood at the door of Jeraine’s penthouse condo. She’d been staring at the door for at least five minutes. She knew she should leave. She knew the worst thing for her would be to fall for him again. She just couldn’t make her feet work. Tired of her own inner argument, she rested her head against the door.
“You don’t have to leave,” Jeraine’s voice startled her.
She turned around to look at him.
“You love me,” Jeraine said. “I’m an ass. I get that. I’ve hurt you, betrayed you, let things happen while you begged me to do something good for myself, with myself. I suck as a human being.”
Naked, he fell to his knees in front of her.
“Don’t leave me,” he said. “You don’t want to.”
“Then why am I standing here?”
“Why have you been standing there for six and a half minutes?” he asked.
“Why are you like this? You weren’t like this when we were kids. You weren’t. You got that stupid contract and wham. The boy I loved left the stadium leaving Mr. It in his place.”
He took her hands into his. She gazed down at him. There was no defense in his face, no lie, no manipulation. She had the sense that if she wanted to hit him, he wouldn’t stop her.
“Why are you like this?” Tanesha repeated her question.
“I’ve answered that question every time you’ve asked,” Jeraine said.
“You’ve given me a bunch of bull, a bunch of sass.” Bitter, Tanesha mimicked his voice. “’Dem bdtchs don’t have no problem with Mr. It,’ ‘How ‘bout I answer your question after dem fidy bdtchs to suck my d…’”
“Okay, okay,” Jeraine held his hands up as if she was holding a gun.
“Shall I continue?”
“No,” Jeraine said. “Although I’m particularly fond of, ‘You can’t help it baby, you drawn to Mr. It. Now you here and you want It but you can’t handle It.’ Took me six months to come up with that.”
Tanesha shook her head at him.
“I thought I’d feel great saying that to you, strong, powerful, on top,” Jeraine said. “You should have seen your face. You shook your head and left me. You wouldn’t speak to me for a year after that.”
“Two,” Tanesha said.
“Two,” Jeraine said.
“Why would you need to feel on top?” Tanesha asked. “Look around you. You’re literally on top of this building, on top of the charts, on top of the financial markets, on top of everything anyone can see.”
“I’m happy to talk to you about this,” Jeraine said. “But I don’t want to talk about this here.”
“In your house?” Tanesha’s voice pulsed with exasperation. “Where’s the perfect place? Your Aspen chalet? Your mansion in Dubai? On some reality TV show? Your flat in Hell’s Kitchen? Maybe the Moon?”
“The hallway, the door, right here! God damn it! Either leave or give me a chance. The in-between is killing me.”
“And I should care what’s killing you!? You selfish prick. This is about me, about Tanesha, about the girl you sing about, the girl you say you love. This isn’t about what’s comfortable for you.”
Tanesha’s rage fired up.
“Love isn’t something you only do when you’re comfortable, Jeraine. Real life is uncomfortable. Where are you going to be when something uncomfortable happens? Where are you going to be if our baby gets sick or heaven forbid dies or I get sick or we lose everything to fire or tornado? You’ll be telling me that you’re uncomfortable! You can’t live like this!”
“Okay, I deserve that.”
Tanesha was so angry she was out of breath. Gulping air, she stood over him. She’d never intended on saying all of that. She’d never intended on being so honest. But here she was, standing in his doorway, unburdening her heart to the man who had broken it.
“My Gran almost lost her house,” Tanesha said. Surprised, he looked up at her. “Remember my Gran’s house? The house that you were going to buy with your record money? I had to work four jobs to keep it and even then, we had the foreclosure notice on the door. I almost lost my spot at medical school. I lost my car. All of six of us would have been on the streets. And where were you?”
“Wha… what did you do?” The words tumbled out of his mouth. They were the first heart honest words he’d spoken in a very long time. His stomach wrenched at the sound of them.
“Jill asked for my Gran’s house as her wedding present,” Tanesha said. “Jacob Marlowe bought it. We can live there until Gran dies. He’s helping us fix up the place. We spent the summer redoing the yard. You should have seen crazy Aunt Phy planting flowers in her big hat and wild house dress. What a sight.”
“I bet.”
“Now it’s almost as nice as the fixed up places on our block. Jacob’s going to paint the house this fall. Gran’s picked the colors to match the neighbors.”
“J-J
ill knows how to stand up for you in hard times,” Jeraine nodded and looked down.
“Why can’t you?” Tanesha whispered.
“I don’t know.” Jeraine looked down. His stomach heaved again. He held his breath for a moment to see if the world might end, if she’d leave, but her feet didn’t move. She was still there. He let out his breath. “All I ever wanted was to impress you.”
His words were so quiet that Tanesha wasn’t sure she’d heard them correctly.
“Impress me? What the hell are you talking about? I’m nothing.”
“You’re everything. Your mother is a crack ‘ho… an addict and look at all you’ve done in your life. You have great friends. You’re so beautiful, so smart and so, so strong. Fierce. You’re the most amazing human being I’ve ever met.”
“Me?”
His head moved in a nod.
“I was in prison in St. Louis,” Jeraine said. “After that girl… died. They held me. There wasn’t anything anyone could do to get me out. No amount of money, big money lawyers, record company pull, nothing was going to get me out of that prison. In fact, the judge said that. The black judge said I was just the kind of thug who made all black men look bad. They kept me in isolation because of my fame. A white gang was going to kill me because I supposedly killed a white woman. I was alone almost twenty-four hours a day.
“I paced the cell like a caged animal. I made deals with God. I promised myself if I ever got out, I’d make this right with you. But… I couldn’t get my black ass out of prison.”
Tanesha’s hand went to her heart.
“I realize, kneeling here, that I didn’t do half of what I promised God I would do,” Jeraine said. “If it’s any consolation, you’re not the only one I break my promises to.”
“How did you get out?”
“Seth. He looked into the whole mess. The first real investigation anybody did,” Jeraine said. “After the first week, he came to see me every day until I was released. We talked. I always thought him of as my Dad’s honky cop friend who played music on the side. But he’s been on the road since he was ten years old. He was the only person I’d ever talked to who understood what it was like for me.”