by Rick R. Reed
Ethan’s face was alabaster in the dark. “It feels good to me. Refreshing. Can’t you indulge me, just this once?”
As if I haven’t been indulging you from the day you moved in here…“I don’t know, Ethan.” Robert stared out, straining to see Lake Michigan. But where the water should be was a black void. He shrugged. “Have it your way. We came out here to have a talk, and talk we will.” He eyed the young man. “Even if our words are impeded by chattering teeth.”
He glanced down at the concrete floor, then looked back up at Ethan. “I just want you to know, Ethan, that I care for you very much. I care about what happens to you. And I think—” Robert turned away from Ethan and stared down at the street. “This is hard. But I think you’re in trouble. And I think you need some help. You’re using drugs, and I’m pretty sure your drug of choice is crystal methamphetamine. I’ve read all the articles, and I know the symptoms…and I know the high rate of HIV that seems to go hand in hand with this damn poison.” Robert’s voice caught, and a tear trickled down his cheek. Damn it! I need to be strong.
He slammed a fist on the balcony’s iron rail; it hurt and caused Ethan’s mouth to open in surprise. But the gesture served to rally Robert’s anger, to get it behind him, to fire him up to say what needed to be said. Just as he was about to offer Ethan some help and support, the boy put his hand up. He looked afraid, and his eyes shone in the dark.
“I know what you’re gonna say.” His voice was barely above a whisper, and it seemed to Robert the boy was not only having trouble speaking, but he was having trouble breathing. “And I need to show you something.” He reached out a sweat-slicked palm and caressed Robert’s cold cheek. It was all Robert could do not to yank away from the fevered hand and its appalling damp.
“What? What on earth could you need to show me?”
“Shhh. Just wait here. I’ll be right back.” Ethan ducked inside, leaving the balcony door ajar. Robert watched as he moved uncertainly into the apartment.
“What are you doing?”
“Mind your business, old man! Just give me a second.” Ethan stood, staring at him and waiting. “You gonna stand there and watch my every move? I’m not getting a knife or anything if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Robert shook his head. “Ethan! That thought never even crossed my mind. Don’t be absurd.”
Ethan continued to wait. “Give me a min, then?” He sounded annoyed, and the mood showed in the way he cocked his head and the frown creasing his once-handsome features.
Robert rolled his eyes and turned around, gripping the balcony and looking out once more at the cold, barren landscape of Chicago in deep freeze. He listened to Ethan moving behind him.
And then it got quiet.
* * * *
As Jess rode up in the elevator, her sense of dread increased. Where is this coming from? She didn’t understand it, but it didn’t stop her from wishing there was some way she could make the slow, smooth, and silent movement of the elevator quicken. Impatiently, she watched the lights as they lit up and darkened as she ascended each floor.
Finally, after what seemed much longer than any of her previous rides, the elevator glided to a stop and the doors slid open silently. She took a breath and emerged into the carpeted hallway, where everything was muted—the beige of the walls, the soft lights in their sconces, and the dense carpeting. She hurried down the corridor.
What will you say? Jess shook her head, not having any idea. She supposed if everything looked as okay as possible for the trauma she knew was about to take place, she would just move herself off into the kitchen or hide out in the den until Robert told her it was safe to come out. She hoped that Ethan would leave after their conversation, hoped he would have family to go to, hoped he would come by later to pick up his things. She found herself wanting to be alone with Robert, to offer him the same comfort he had given her Christmas night.
She paused outside the door, summoning her courage and resolve, trying to believe she was doing the right thing, and fitted her key into the lock.
* * * *
Ethan swallowed hard. Outside, Robert was standing right where Ethan wanted him, at the balcony’s edge. He faced out, toward the night sky and even leaned out a little into it, as if he were drinking in the cold air. He was in a perfect position. All Ethan would have to do is get a good running start and then, without any hesitation, place both hands on Robert’s back and push as hard as he could.
The no-hesitation part was vital. He would have no second chances. Once Robert realized what he meant to do, he had better be free-falling through the air. Because if Ethan thought he was in trouble with Robert now, he couldn’t imagine the hatred and fury that would rain down upon him if Robert survived an attempt by Ethan to kill him. Ethan didn’t know if he could bear Robert’s reaction.
Really. How can you do this him?
And the voice from upstairs came back to him, as though the guy was standing behind him. “Jesus Christ, dude! Just do it. We both know there’s no other way.”
He wondered briefly if he could get away with it. But why should anyone suspect foul play? Someone could fall from a high-rise balcony; he supposed it happened all the time. As long as no one witnessed him pushing, he would have to be in the clear, even if the death were clouded by suspicion.
Now. Ethan took a step back, channeling all the strength, courage, and resolve he possessed. Just get through this…He started to run, raising his arms in front of him as he neared the balcony.
* * * *
Jess couldn’t believe what she was seeing. For just a split second, she doubted her own eyes and tried to rationalize some other explanation for why Ethan was running toward Robert on the balcony, his arms outstretched.
She was sure it wasn’t to embrace him.
Was the boy that far gone?
Deliberately, she moved into the apartment and screamed, “Stop!” just before Ethan reached Robert. For one heart-pounding second, she was afraid she was too late, but Robert turned just in time and moved to one side.
Ethan had gathered a lot of force. And this force slammed him into the balcony’s rail.
He flipped over.
Robert screamed, a high, desperate cry ripping deep from within, and bent precariously over the edge. Jess rushed outside and saw that Robert was hanging on to a piece of Ethan’s sweatshirt. The young man’s legs kicked, dangling precariously out into the night sky.
“Help me,” he whimpered.
The fabric was straining, and Jess feared it would rip. She could already see the scene in her mind’s eye: the boy tumbling through the air, the ground below rising up with insane speed to meet his back.
“Damn!” Robert shouted. “Help me, Jess! Help me!” He swung farther over the edge and put another hand on the other side of the sweatshirt. Ethan swung out and was able to grab onto Robert’s wrist.
Jess froze, afraid both men would tumble to the ground. Forcing herself to move, she bent over the rail, its cold hardness biting into her stomach, and grabbed onto the pair.
Together, Robert and Jess grappled to get Ethan back onto the balcony. He panicked and kicked wildly, which Jess was afraid would be his undoing. But finally, they managed to lift him up enough to fold him over the balcony. He swung his legs over the edge and landed in a clump on the concrete floor.
Everyone was gasping. Ethan vomited a stream of yellow bile and then began sobbing like a baby.
Jess peeked down and saw a crowd of onlookers assembling. Glancing over to Ethan, she noted his white skin and blue lips.
By this time, Robert had caught his breath enough to say, “Call 911.”
As she headed inside, she heard Robert saying, “Shhh. It’s gonna be okay. We’ll fix everything.” She picked up the phone, wondering about the reserves of forgiveness Robert must have within him and how he was truly an exceptional man.
A man she could love.
Chapter 16
It was Christmas, 2008. Outside, aquamarine waves wa
shed over a white sand shore, throwing up clumps of seaweed with their relentless rise and fall. The sun was a brilliant yellow-white orb, banishing shadows to thatch-roofed cabanas dotting the shoreline. The air smelled crisp, heavy with the fragrance of the briny seawater.
Jess dug her toes into the sand and reveled in the feel of the warm, salty water as it washed over them. Her skin felt pleasantly dry from a balmy breeze. The sun was hot on her shoulders, which had already begun freckling. But she wasn’t worried about her fair skin burning, not when the sun felt so glorious on it—a hot, full-body kiss.
She put a hand up to shield her eyes from the sun and watched as a small boat headed out to a coral reef, filled with eager snorkelers. Water broke in white caps against the reef. It was a gorgeous day.
Briefly, she thought of last Christmas when she’d been alone, facing rising debt, a lover who had dumped her, and the certainty she wanted it all to be over. She imagined herself once again sitting on boulders above a freezing Lake Michigan as she contemplated throwing herself into its unforgiving waters, to be erased by that same water filling her lungs and the promise of quick and deadly hypothermia. She could never have predicted that so much would have changed in just one year, how completely different her world had become.
She turned back to gaze at the bone-white villa where she was staying, here in the little Mexican seaside town of Puerto Morales, on the Yucatan Peninsula. A gorgeous four-bedroom house, complete with a pool facing the ocean. While it wasn’t exactly an Irving Berlin Christmas scene, there was certainly enough white sand to go around to fill in for the snow that was lacking.
Robert emerged from the sliding glass doors and waved. She waved back, hopping up as a big wave roared in, splashing her and completely drenching her tank top and shorts. Robert wore a pair of tropical print trunks and had a drink in his hand. Jess would bet on a margarita…the blender would soon burn out its motor!
Robert looked so happy, squinting into the sunlight made even more brilliant by its reflection on the Gulf of Mexico. He had lost a few pounds and the tan he had already acquired since their arrival three days before, brought out the blond in his hair, which was becoming more and more bleached out with each passing day.
God, she loved this man! When she told people he was a real lifesaver, her eyes would always go to him and their shared, secret connection.
Since getting Ethan into rehab, Robert had begun a process of rebirth. He had taken a job as a sous chef in a French bistro blocks away from his house and had started working with a ghostwriter on getting the final Heather the Teenage Witch manuscript to print. (Already, the anticipation for the book was high, even though its audience was mostly women in their mid- to late-twenties, not exactly its original core readers.)
He had saved her. He had saved Ethan, even if she wondered whether the younger man deserved it. He had saved himself. And, in his own way, she knew he had saved Keith, all those Christmases ago, from a lonely and ignoble death. Keith had left the world feeling loved and wanted, which Jess thought was enough.
Jess started back up to the house, where she knew Robert would have some amazing lunch waiting: gazpacho and a frittata with queso manchego, topped with fresh avocado and tomatoes.
She never wanted this to end. Back in Chicago, her days were long and arduous. She waitressed in Greek Town by day; by night she was deep into rehearsals for Hedda Gabler at an up and coming fringe theater that was generating the same kind of excitement as the early Steppenwolf.
And she was Hedda.
She watched Robert descend the short flight of stairs leading from their pool to the beach, being careful not to spill his drink. He padded across the sand toward her, smiling.
When he reached her, he gave her a quick peck on the cheek and then stood back, grinning. His eyes crinkled from the sun and his smile, and Jess thought about how the dark hue of his skin would make the blue of his eyes stand out when his expression returned to normal.
“There’s a whole pitcher back in the kitchen. I know you want some.” He took a sip. “Delicious! Something about Mexican limes and the tequila we bought in that little store in the town square just seem to make these the best margaritas I’ve ever had.”
“Honey, it’s not even noon.”
“So who’s watching the clock? I was thirsty, and there were limes, tequila, triple sec, and a blender all out, just waiting for me to come along and work my magic. Besides, sweetheart, it’s Christmas. Time to celebrate.”
Jess wrapped an arm around his waist, and the two stood for a moment, gazing out at the sea. “We still have presents.”
“I know. And you’re going to love what I found for you.”
“I hope you didn’t go to too much trouble. You know how I hate to be upstaged.” Jess laughed.
“Just a couple little baubles, nothing really.”
“Sit down here with me, okay?”
The two situated themselves on the sand, legs splayed out into the warm water. A dog ran across the beach behind them, a German shepherd maybe, and the beat of its paws on the sand sounded like a horse thundering by.
Jess turned to Robert. “This has been an amazing year, you know.”
Robert smiled and sipped his drink; the glass was already sweating with condensation. “And it’s all due to you, my dear. You saved my life. I know you think it was the other way around, but it was you who were waiting for me that night one year ago today.” His face grew somber as he stared out at the water. A cruise ship, far off, moved almost imperceptibly. “If not for you, I probably would be buried at Rosehill Cemetery, the body in the coffin nothing more than smashed bones by now.”
“Robert! Don’t be so morbid.” Jess leaned back, digging her hands into the sand and bringing them up, watching as the sand slid through her fingers. “We saved each other. And we’ve had this talk before…many, many times.” Jess thought about the first time, in a waiting room at St. Joseph’s Hospital shortly after last Christmas. They had waited for news of Ethan, who had suffered cardiac arrest shortly after his attempt on Robert’s life, not knowing if the young man would make it out of the crisis alive.
Jess had discovered a wonderful thing about Robert, then. He had not told anyone else that Ethan had tried to kill him, and even though the younger man’s overdose was obvious, he feigned ignorance to doctors at the hospital about its cause. Even better, he had been genuinely concerned about Ethan’s survival, in spite of what his ex-lover had tried to do. After Ethan had recovered from the immediate crisis, Robert found an opening for him at Hazleton, one of the best rehab clinics not that far away, in Minnesota.
Robert’s actions had made it clear to Jess that she loved Robert. It wasn’t an infatuation, and she didn’t even know how much of it was due to a residue of lost love left over from another lifetime. In the end, did that really matter? It was because Robert was a good human being, a caring and sometimes helpless soul whose warmth and grace made him worthy of so much more love than he had gotten in his forty-some-odd years.
They had talked about having Jess undergo hypnosis. The two of them had even searched online and inquired around about serious hypnotherapists who performed past-life regressions. They had made an appointment.
But at the last minute, Jess had said no. Both of them realized they already knew all they needed to know. If they loved one another, it was not due solely to some past-life paranormal thing, but for the same reasons all people fell in love with each other: companionship, a sense of belonging, of family.
Jess put her head on Robert’s shoulder. “I think I’d like one of those margaritas. And then I’d like to sit in the shade of a cabana for a while and just read. And then…a quick dip and a nice long nap.” She lifted her head and looked up at him. “Can we just stay here, forever?”
Robert laughed. “Is that what you really want? I have a job, now. And you’re on the cusp of breaking out big on the Chicago stage.” When Jess started to modestly protest, Robert held up a hand to ward her off. “I won’t he
ar it, Jess. I’ve come to some rehearsals. Your Hedda is one-of-a-kind. This is the role that’s going to get you noticed.”
Jess put her head back on Robert’s shoulder. “Do you think it’s strange? What we have?”
“What we have, my dear, is love. If that’s strange, then I don’t think I want to live in this world.” He tousled her hair.
It was true. Since Jess had moved into the condo, people saw them as a couple. Not in Robert’s building, of course. Too many of the residents had seen his parade of young men over the years to speculate that Jess was anything more than a lucky niece or a friend, or something equally platonic. But when they went out for dinner, or shopping, or to a show, people often saw them as a couple. Sometimes, a waiter or a clerk would even refer to Jess as Robert’s wife, and Jess and Robert would lean toward one another, their heads close like conspirators, and giggle.
Suddenly, Robert stood and held out his hand. “Come on, you, I need to get a margarita in you before the ice melts.” Jess stood and brushed the sand off her butt. The two padded back to the house, hand-in-hand.
Robert turned his head and said, out of the corner of his mouth, “Besides, Betty is probably stirring by now…and she’ll wonder why you aren’t in bed next to her.” He stopped and laughed. “Although from the sounds coming out of your room all last night, it’s no wonder she’s exhausted. I’m surprised you can walk!”
Jess punched his arm. “You weren’t supposed to be listening!”
“Who could not?! I tried a pillow over my head, even ear plugs, and still I could hear: ‘there! There! Oh God, that’s good. Yes! Yes!’” Robert had to stop walking, he was laughing so hard.
“You’re terrible.”
“I know.” They mounted the stairs, and the pool, in its pristine, reflecting glory, lay before them. “I’m just happy you found her. Maybe there’s someone out there for me, too. Maybe, like you, if I cruise restaurants, I’ll get lucky. Lord knows there are plenty of cuties where I work.”
