by Annie Jocoby
I went back over to Dalilah and stroked her hair, while I waited for Jake to show up with the promised Tylenol. “Dalilah, a woman of so many secrets. I wish that you would open up to me. What are you so afraid of?” I wanted so much for there to be no secrets between Dalilah and me, yet there seemed to be so many of them. Such an ocean there seemed to be between us, right at that second.
I just sat there with Dalilah, staring at her and kissing her forehead. She was still in her evening gown, but her shoes were off. Yet she seemed comfortable lying there, for she was sleeping soundly.
I wanted to help her, but I had no idea how. I didn’t even know where it was that I would start. Because I had no idea what the problem was. I mean, this whole story about her friend Nick, and how she married Nottingham to help Nick out – that just sounded like bullshit to me. I knew of that firm - O’Hara, White and Stroker – and that firm wouldn’t even miss Nottingham’s money, even if the account was worth millions. The firm was one of the biggest in the world. I just couldn’t imagine Dalilah sacrificing her very life and happiness so that a wealthy architectural firm could keep ahold of a few million more.
No, that made zero sense to me.
Yet, she clearly married Nottingham for a reason. But what was it? What would be compelling enough for her to do something like that?
I pondered this as I answered the buzzer. Jake was downstairs waiting for me. “Be right down,” I said, and then went out the door and down the stairs to meet him.
“Hey,” he said. “Here’s the stuff.”
“Cool. How much do I owe you?”
Jake shrugged. “Nothing, bro. On me.”
“Right,” I said, and then took out the money I brought with me, which was $50, and stuffed it into his coat pocket. It was a kind of a weird dance we always did, just because it was always uncomfortable doing business with a friend. Jake always tried to say that the 420 was on him, and I always stuffed the money into his pockets over his protests. But we both knew that Jake really wanted the money, he was just too much of a cool guy to act like it.
“Hey, thanks,” he said. “Looks like there’s going to be a lot more where that came from.”
“Yeah,” I said, feeling in a hurry to get back up to Dalilah. I didn’t want her to wake up and think that I ditched her. “Listen, thanks for this, buddy. I’ll call you later and give you the scoop on last night. Thanks again.”
He nodded his head and turned around and then got to his car and waved at me. “Take care, man. Get a beer later on?”
I shook my head. “Not today. I got some things I gotta take care of. But later on this week, huh?”
“Sure. Later.”
At that, I took the package and walked back into the apartment. And lucky that I went back in when I did, because Dalilah was stirring. She groaned a little and positioned herself better on my couch. I got a blanket and pillow for her, and made her more comfortable.
And just sat there and stared at her, willing her to wake up and tell me what was really going on.
Chapter 25
As it turned out, I sat there and waited for her to become conscious for several more hours. She seemed to be really exhausted, so I didn’t wake her. But she finally woke up with a start around 2 in the afternoon.
She cried out, and immediately sat up. I went over to her, and held her while she breathed heavily in my arms. Her hand was clutching my arm so tightly, I thought that was going to leave a mark. She looked at me as if she really didn’t know who I was for a split second. Her eyes were wide with absolute terror.
But then, gradually, she seemed to focus more on her surroundings and her entire face and body became relaxed again. “Oh, thank god,” she said. “Thank god I’m here. And not there. With him.” She visibly shuddered. “God forbid I was there with him. God forbid.”
I took a deep breath. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I’ve been run over by a truck.” She winced in obvious pain, and gingerly got off of the couch. “I’ll be right back,” she said, getting up to use the bathroom.
That settled it for me. Dalilah obviously was woken up from a nightmare, and she very clearly referenced the fact that she was relieved that she wasn’t in Nottingham’s place anymore. If there was any doubt as to exactly who did this to her, there wasn’t anymore.
And, just like that, I wanted to go over and strangle that cold, cruel man with my bare hands. But I had to conceal my absolute fury. Dalilah didn’t need my hostility right then. All that she needed was my love. And my painkillers.
She came back over to the couch after having made a glass of water for herself and one for me. She handed the water to me as she sipped hers. “What time is it?” she asked, squinting.
“It’s a little after two. You’ve been out for about eight hours.” I handed her a Tylenol. “Here, take this. It will kill your pain.”
“What is it?”
“Just a Tylenol 3 with codeine,” I said. “It does the trick, though.”
“Thanks,” she said, drinking her water and swallowing the pill. She laid back down and stared at the ceiling.
“I’m so sorry, Dalilah, but I should have offered you a change of clothing earlier. Anyhow, here is a t-shirt and pair of boxers you can change into.”
She looked at me a bit strangely and took the clothes. “Thanks. Uh, Luke, I mean, I know that you saw my back.”
“Yes,” I said. “You can tell me what happened in due time.” I wanted to push her for more information, but I didn’t want to press too hard. I also wanted to ask her about the scars that I just noticed. They were very faint, but I could still see them.
“I will,” she said. “Thanks for the clothes.” At that, she got up and went into my bathroom and came back out in a few minutes, dressed in my t-shirt and boxers.
She looked beautiful dressed in my clothes. She was always beautiful, of course, but dressed in my t-shirt and shorts, she looked more like the Dalilah I fell in love with. The Dalilah in the expensive evening gown certainly turned heads at the party, but that just wasn’t her.
This seemed so much more natural. So much more right. Like old times – the two of us just hanging around the house together.
Of course, we weren’t just hanging around the house together anymore, like old times. She was married and recovering from being beaten, presumably by the man she was married to. And she had a lost look in her eyes. There was so much sadness in those beautiful eyes now that I almost was brought to tears.
Things were strained between us. Awkward. She had a difficult time meeting my eyes, and I felt like I didn’t really have words to say to her. I hated that there seemed to be a barrier between us, yet I also knew that she was dealing with a lot right at that moment.
“Dalilah,” I began.
“Shhhh,” she said, putting her finger to my mouth. “Please, Luke, let’s not talk about anything important right now. I don’t want to talk about what happened to me or why I married that monster or any of that. I’m not ready to.”
And then her eyes brightened, and she forced a smile. “What I want to talk about is your phenomenal reception last night. You must be bouncing off the walls.”
I felt uncomfortable discussing that with her, because it seemed inappropriate. She was having major problems right at that moment, and I didn’t want to change the subject. “Yes,” I said. “I guess it went well.”
“You guess? You do know that you had the entire place abuzz last night, including that old fart Henry Jacobs. I still hate him, but, at the same time, I’m dying for him to give you a rocking review in the paper. After last night...” And then she seemed to catch herself, for she didn’t finish that sentence.
“After last night, what?” I asked her gently.
She shook her head. “I don’t know. It seems that you’re going to do very well for yourself after what I saw last night.” And then she swallowed hard. “That is...”
I cocked my head. She was hiding something from me, I could tell. There
was something about the cautious way she was talking about my future prospects that made me think that she knew something that I clearly didn’t.
I brushed her hair away from her face a little and kissed her on her forehead. “What’s on your mind, Dalilah? There’s something that you’re not telling me.”
She shook her head. “No, really, it’s nothing. The painkiller is starting to kick in, I guess, because I’m feeling pretty light-headed right now. But my pain is subsiding quite a bit, so there’s that.”
“Just lay back down,” I said. “And rest. You don’t have anywhere to go, and you need to heal. So that should be your first priority – getting better. Stronger. We can talk about what’s troubling you a little later. Right now, just get some sleep.”
She nodded her head, and closed her eyes. “I love you, Luke.”
“I love you, too.”
Chapter 26
Days went by, and Dalilah stayed at my place. On the second day of Dalilah’s stay, I actually was able to get ahold of her best friend, Alaina, and have her bring a bag of Dalilah’s things. She obliged, and I went through the same routine with her that I did with Jake. In that I met her downstairs, outside the building, and refused to let her see Dalilah. This was at Dalilah’s request, of course, but that didn’t make it any easier.
For Alaina wasn’t like Jake. She wasn’t going to go away easily or quietly. She wanted answers, and she was going to pester me until she got them.
“Here’s a week’s worth of Dalilah’s clothes. Her toothbrush and shampoo and stuff, too,” she said, bringing out a huge bag out of her car and handing the things to me.
“Thanks,” I said, taking the things. “Well, uh, I’d like to pay you for your time.”
“Nothing doing,” she said. “I need you to tell me what’s going on with Dalilah. She won’t return my phone calls, and she’s been neither returning my calls nor at her apartment for weeks now. Now, here you are, mysteriously asking me to bring over some of her things and, even more mysteriously, telling me that I can’t see my own best friend. Well, I’m not leaving until I get a chance to see her.”
Alaina stood on the sidewalk, her hands on her slender hips. She was about 5’5”, and probably a buck fifteen on a good day, yet she tried hard to make herself seem larger than her actual physical stature.
“Alaina, I’m really so sorry. But Dalilah gave me specific instructions. I wish that I could tell you something, and I would like for you to see her. But I have to respect her wishes.”
I looked at Alaina’s face and saw that my words were not having the desired effect. She looked like she was genuinely going to stand out in the cold until she could see her friend. “Listen, Luke,” she said. “I don’t know who died and made you Dalilah’s keeper, but I know her, and I know that she really wants to see me. Now, you’re gonna take me up in that apartment so that I can see her for myself, or...”
I drew a breath. I felt badly for Alaina. She was only trying to look out for Dalilah, I knew, but no matter. Dalilah wanted to see nobody she knew until her bruises were healed, and that was that.
I was surprised, though, that Alaina hadn’t talked to Dalilah in so long. That could have only meant that Dalilah kept the truth about her marriage to Nottingham from her best friend.
That whole thing was getting curiouser and curiouser to me. I was no closer to getting a confession out of Dalilah about the true reason why she married that creeper than I was when she first came to my door after the party. For that matter, she hadn’t yet talked about her beating. I could only presume that it was Nottingham who did that to her, but I still wasn’t 100% sure.
“Alaina, please,” I said. “I know that you’re concerned for Dalilah. But you have to respect her wishes. I’m sure that she’ll give you a call soon enough, and hopefully she’ll talk to you about what is going on. I can’t force her to see you, though.”
Alaina looked like she was about to cry. “I’ve known that girl since we were like four years old. We’ve gone through everything together. She’s known you for like a minute, and, suddenly, I’m left out in the cold and you’re the one who’s like her gatekeeper. That’s not fair. In fact, that’s bullshit. Now, I want to see her, and I want to see her right now.”
“I’m very sorry, Alaina,” I said. “I wish that Dalilah felt differently. I really do. But-“
“But nothing. I’m not taking no for an answer, here.”
I opened my mouth, but no words came out. I had no idea what to say. What lie to tell her to make her go away. She was determined, that was for sure.
Finally, I just said “Alaina, thanks for the clothes and stuff. I’ll take this up to her and make sure that she calls you as soon as possible.” And, at that, I walked back into the building, trying to block out the sounds of Alaina yelling about her rights and how ungrateful Dalilah was for all that she did for her.
“And don’t think that I’m coming to your wedding, either,” she was shouting. “I didn’t know that she was marrying a douchebag.”
I shut the door behind me and carried the things up the steps. Dalilah was waiting for me on the couch. By that time, her bruises were showing, and she was wearing a pair of dark sunglasses to cover up the shiner on her eye.
“Thanks for doing that, Luke,” she said from her position on the couch. She was dressed in one of my t-shirts and a pair of my sweats, and her hair was piled on top of her head.
I put her things down on top of my table, and went over to her. “How are you doing?” I asked, stroking her hair. Next to her, on the coffee table, were the remnants of the breakfast I had made for her – leftover scrambled eggs, toast and hash browns. I picked up the tray of food and took it into the kitchen.
“I’m okay,” she said, but I knew that she really wasn’t. She really started feeling her pain about a day after all of this went down, and she was hazy from the painkillers ever since. And she was very quiet. So unlike herself. She really seemed to be lost and confused, and I worried about her night and day.
I sat down next to her and said “Alaina. She says that you haven’t talked to her for awhile. She knows nothing of your marriage to Nottingham. I don’t want to press you, but I wondered why you never confided in her about what’s going on.”
Dalilah sighed. “Because she never would have let me live it down. Alaina would bug me and harass me about marrying Nottingham, and I just didn’t want to hear it. My mind was made up, and I was going to do it, so I really didn’t need her whining to me about it.”
I looked at my hands for a few minutes. “You ever gonna tell me the real story about Nottingham and why you married him?”
“I did tell you the real story,” she said. “Maybe it was misguided, but I felt that I was repaying a debt to Nick for being so cool to me. For taking me in when he didn’t really have to. I’m very loyal that way.”
I bit my lip. I wanted to tell her to quit lying and spill it, whatever it was. I couldn’t stand that she was sitting there and bullshitting me right to my face.
But I didn’t press her. I knew that somehow, someway, the story was going to come out.
Chapter 27
Later on, when Dalilah was sleeping, I decided to check my phone. It had been a few days since my premiere, and I figured that at least a few of the people I met the other night would be calling me. Not that this was important right at that moment – the most important thing was helping Dalilah. But I was also excited to see who might be interested in giving me a showing or commission. It seemed that, on my premiere night, everybody I met was really interested in me.
Several days earlier, I had called about twenty of the people who were interested in me. Not one of them had called me back. I had also sent out about fifty emails, and none of those were returned, either.
I sighed. I thought that things went really well with my premiere, but, apparently, I was wrong. I guess that my work was forgettable after all. I’m not going to lie, I was disappointed, because everybody had seemed so enthusiastic.
Well, give it some time. They’re all busy people. Really busy people. They’ll get in touch. Or at least get their assistant to get in touch.
Then I realized that it was Sunday. Maybe there would be a review in the paper. That would certainly get things going. So, I checked on Dalilah, who was sleeping soundly on my couch. I left a note for her that I was going to the corner store to pick up a paper, and then left.
I approached the store and picked up a paper and bought it. I took it up to my apartment, and sifted through it. The paper was big, although it wasn’t as big as it was in its heyday. It had gone through the same transition as most newspapers and magazines, trying to adjust to the realities of the Internet, but it managed to weather the storm. It was, once again, the top newspaper in the country, and was still very influential and widely-read.
My heart pounding, I found the Arts Section, and saw that Henry Jacobs did a review of my show. I felt my heart quickening and my hands were shaking, as I read.
I read the review, and kept looking for my name. The review was of the showing at the Matthew Jane, alright, but it was entirely about the other two artists.
I read the article two more times, before I realized that I had been entirely cut out of the review. It was as if I didn’t exist.
I blinked my eyes. Was the whole show a dream? I started to feel that I was in an episode of The Twilight Zone.
I feared a bad review. What I never feared was no review at all. That was probably the worst thing possible, considering – any publicity is good publicity, so if there was a bad review, at least people would know your name. But to completely be ignored – that was devastating.
It was bad enough that Elaine Bush had already done the same on her blog. She had reviewed the other two artists and not me. That was disappointing for sure. But now Henry Jacobs also acted like I didn’t exist, and that the show at the Matthew Jane featured the other two artists and not me.
