***
Michael closed the hotel room door and turned around to find Violet, fully dressed, with her suitcase in one hand and her purse in the other. “Violet, I’m so sorry. I don’t know how she found out…” he apologized.
“I’m sorry too, Michael,” she responded softly, and she kissed his mouth before walking past him and out the front door. Michael couldn’t help but wonder if it was the last time he would ever see her again. He buried his face in his hands and began sobbing so loudly that even Penelope sat up in surprise from her place on the floor in the hallway.
Penelope watched her husband’s mistress walk away from Room 206, and she wondered if this would be their last encounter. Her anger had subsided, and now all she could feel was a deep, painful sadness. Instead of waiting for Michael as he had instructed, she followed Violet’s lead and left Michael alone in his hotel room.
Chapter Eighteen
In the movies, sneaking out of a hospital always seems like such an insurmountable task that involves dressing up in nurses’ uniforms and tiptoeing past security guards. But Lexi just removed the IV, threw on the bloodstained clothes she had arrived in, and walked out the front door of the hospital. “Piece of cake,” she said with a painful smile. The hardest part about her escape was not the challenge of making it out unnoticed, but making it out at all, considering how much pain she was in. Her ribs ached like crazy, and she felt like she was carrying a ninety-pound barbell on her neck. Every inch of her hurt, but there was no way she was staying in the hospital, not with Reggie right down the hall from her. Nurse Betty had reported he was in intensive care, but you never know about some people, and she didn’t want him waking up and trying to kill her again—not to mention the fact that strip clubs don’t offer insurance, and she did not want to endure any unpleasant discussions about the mounting medical bills she had undoubtedly racked up during her hospital stay.
Lying alone in that hospital bed, she had made the decision to get the hell out of this town. She wanted to get in her car and just drive away, leaving everything and everyone she’d met here behind. Nothing and nobody here mattered. There were only two people that mattered to her: Michael and Elijah Sinclair. And although they seemed to be worlds apart, in reality, they were only a three-hour plane ride away. What have I got to lose at this point? Lexi wondered.
Lexi had not been a part of Elijah’s life in nearly ten years, and she would not blame him if he never wanted to see or hear from her again. I hope the airplane I sent didn’t hurt him worse, she thought, thinking of how she’d impulsively mailed it out days ago.
I hope it wasn’t a mistake.
Lexi was so deep in thought that it took her a minute to realize everyone around her was staring. She was standing outside the hospital emergency room entrance. She remembered the blood on her clothes, and oh God…how could she forget about her busted up face? She grabbed a pair of sunglasses from her satchel. Not only did they help conceal her face, but they also kept the sun from glaring into her eyes. That was a blessing considering the fact that she could barely hold her eyes open at all due to the massive swelling.
Lexi was grateful to see a sandwich shop and small department store across the street from the hospital. She was so hungry her stomach felt like it was eating itself, but she opted for the department store first. She grabbed the first t-shirt that she saw and grabbed a pair of jeans off a table by the cash register. The cashier was not fooled by the sunglasses and looked mildly alarmed by Lexi’s appearance. For a moment, Lexi worried she might call the cops. But she just rang up the items, took her money, and placed her items in a small paper bag.
“Have a great day!” Lexi half-shouted sarcastically, picking up her bag from the counter. The girl looked scared to death, and Lexi gave her a small wave as she headed out. Lexi changed into her new clothes in the sandwich shop bathroom; then she ordered the biggest, greasiest burger on the menu. The meal came with fries and a soft drink, and she had all but finished off the fries and Coke by the time her sandwich was done. I guess my eyes were larger than my belly, she thought. She asked for a doggie bag and tucked the burger inside it.
The pain in her face and ribs was getting more and more intense, and she felt as though she might pass out when she stepped out of the sandwich shop and back into the sunlight. She wandered two more blocks until she saw the park, and she perched on a concrete bench and lit up a cigarette. The nicotine felt good, and now all she needed was a big dose of Tylenol and a nap.
Lexi dozed for nearly an hour on the concrete bench. Unsurprisingly, she felt even worse when she awoke, and she regretted sleeping on such an awkward, hard surface. She gathered up her satchel and doggie bag and headed out in search of a pharmacy. Tylenol was a must-have. Her head was pounding. There was a time in her life when she would have craved something stronger not only to ease her physical discomfort but also to numb the deep-seated emotional pain that she felt on a daily basis. But those days were long gone thanks to an extended stint in rehab and her ever-growing desire to punish herself for leaving the only man she would ever love and her darling son. Lexi hated herself. No amount of drugs or mind-numbing activities could ever change that.
Lexi would never forget the day she left them. It was a dreary day, cloud-filled and stormy as she paid the babysitter to keep Elijah until Michael returned home. She had crammed as many clothes as possible into a grimy, old duffel bag she kept in her closet. That day, when she left, she did not leave a note for her husband, and she did not kiss her small son goodbye. The intense withdrawals had overtaken her body and mind, and her yearning for heroin outweighed her love that day. Michael had given her an ultimatum; now that they had children, she had to either give up the drugs voluntarily, or he was determined to take her to some sort of rehab facility. Her craving for the drug and relentless ignorance of how bad her addiction had truly become had driven her away from them. She went off on her own with her own truth at the time, which was a needle and a small brown bag tucked beneath her trousers.
Years went by, and she lived that way: the life of a junkie, the life of a whore. Looking back, she did not know that person: that strung out girl who did not weigh ninety pounds soaking wet and who loved getting high more than she loved her own family. That girl was a stranger to her now. She was saved by an elderly gentleman, a former addict himself, who took her into his very own home and fed her Suboxone strips until she no longer felt the aches and chills of withdrawal. That man died shortly after her recovery, and she wept at his funeral. He was the closest thing to a real father Lexi had ever known.
As Lexi started to cross the street, she froze at the sight of Gabriel Calcutta, one of Reggie’s cronies. Actually, he was more like a dealer than a friend. Lexi turned around and ducked behind the nearest building. She waited for several minutes before working up the nerve to venture back around the building. Gabriel appeared to be gone, and she highly doubted he could have recognized her with the baggy new clothes and enormous nose. She tried to laugh, but it only hurt worse.
Fuck the Tylenol. She had to get the hell out of this city. It would only be a matter of time before one of Reggie’s buddies found out about what had happened, and she did not put it past them to finish her off for good on Reggie’s behalf.
Lexi didn’t care where she went as long as it was far away from here. As eager as she was to get away, she couldn’t leave just yet. She needed to gather a few of her meager belongings from the apartment and fish out a small roll of emergency money that she had sealed in a sandwich baggy hidden in the tank of her toilet. There was another piece of unfinished business to resolve, and she wasn’t looking forward to it one little bit.
Chapter Nineteen
Violet woke up in her car. The morning sunshine was burning her face, and her back was slick with sweat from lying on the tan leather seat of her Geo Tracker. She groaned as she thought about Michael and what had transpired the day before. Did that really happen? she wondered.
One look at her face held the answ
er to that question. Her cheeks were stained with dark makeup and she had ugly, dark circles under her eyes from being awake all night. “Damn,” she said out loud as she imagined Penelope charging straight for her like a bull to a red flag.
Violet reached for the Tylenol she kept in the glove box and washed down three tablets with an old can of Mountain Dew. Well, at least I finally got to meet Penelope, she thought with a tired grin. She suddenly realized what day it was. Alex was coming home. She turned the car on and was shocked to see that the dashboard clock read 10:00 AM. She rarely slept past seven, but after the night she’d had who could blame her for feeling a tad more fatigued than usual? She had pulled away from the Filmont Inn in so much distress and under the influence of the champagne that she had pulled over in a nearby parking lot. She had tossed and turned, and cried, until she felt too dehydrated to cry anymore.
Alex would be home in the next four hours as long as his flight arrived on time. She put the car into gear and pulled out of the lot. It was finally time to head home. She needed a bath. She wasn’t ready to face Alex tonight. In fact, she wasn’t sure if she was even ready to face the day in general.
Violet squealed to a halt as she emerged over the hill leading up to her house. Her mouth fell open, and she shook her head in disbelief. Could things get any worse? she wondered.
There it was—Alex’s truck in the driveway. Apparently he was home early. This is just great, she thought miserably as she put the car in park and turned off the ignition. She reached in the backseat for her suitcase, but then she remembered the new dress and lingerie and decided it was best to just leave it in the car for now.
Violet’s mind was spinning as she slowly ascended up the front walk and turned the knob to the grand old home. After several months, she was going to see Alex again. Boy, did he sure pick a bad time to come home.
Chapter Twenty
Lexi had never been so happy to see the Malibu before. She patted its hood with a triumphant smile. She’d thought for sure it would have been towed away by now considering the illegal spot where she had left it. But there it was looking as rusty and old as ever.
Lexi borrowed a telephone book from a clerk at the gas station down the street and used a payphone to call for a tow truck.
The tow truck arrived fairly quickly, and Lexi gave him all of the cash she had on hand to haul the Malibu to the nearest auto shop to replace her tire. “Make sure to tell Antonio that I will pick it up in a few weeks when I get back to town. He knows I’m good for it,” she said.
“Sure thing, honey,” the driver assured her.
On any other day, Lexi would have responded to his honey with a snarky comment. But this was a new day. She was a new woman now with a brand new attitude to boot.
Since she was out of cash, it was time to go to her apartment. She was not looking forward to it, and the last thing she needed was a run-in with one of Reggie’s goons. However, her emergency cash stash was there along with all of her clothes, toiletries, and mementos. There was no way she was leaving her stuff behind.
But before she caught the bus to her apartment, she had another stop to make. The Clamshell’s sign was off since it was daytime, but they weren’t closed. The Clamshell never closed. Kind of like hell, Lexi thought drearily.
Lexi nodded to Charlie as she strolled through the door. He looked surprised to see her and even more surprised by her battered face. She flashed him the most sincere smile she could muster.
She headed straight to the back to retrieve her makeup, costumes, and toiletries. Lexi had assumed all of her things would be cleared from her station by now and either thrown away or divided up among the other dancers, but she was pleased to see that everything was just as she had left them.
Lexi grabbed one of her costume bags off its hook beside her mirror and started tossing all of her stuff inside. She wanted to get in and out as quickly as possible before Billy showed up and bawled her out for her recent absences from work.
Three of her fellow dancers were sitting at their stations, and not a one of them said hello, or even glanced her way. She felt pissed off, which was silly considering the fact that no one here was her friend, and she’d probably never see any of these girls ever again. It’s not that Lexi disliked them, and in fact, she had hoped to find a friend or two when she started dancing at the Clamshell. Unfortunately, like most other women she knew, these girls viewed each other as adversaries instead of comrades. We always turn on each other because we view one another as competition, Lexi thought sadly. But what the hell are we competing for, anyway? she wondered. The last time she checked, men were the only ones who seemed to have a leg up in life in comparison to women. So, why don’t we join forces, and instead of looking for our differences, why don’t we appreciate all of the commonalities we share?
Lexi stopped philosophizing and finished packing the last bit of her stuff into her costume bag. She started to head for the door but then had a thought and turned back to her now-empty work station. She pulled a tube of red lipstick out of her bag and used it to write on the vanity mirror above her station. First she wrote:
Billy—I quit!
After that she wrote nine more messages, one for each of her soon-to-be former dance mates. She wrote something nice about every single one of them and finished off with a sloppy,
It was a pleasure working with every single one of you. I wish you all the best of luck, and I’m sorry for not trying harder to be a friend to all of you. Dance on, ladies!
With that said, she draped her costume bag over her shoulder and walked out of the Clamshell for the last time. Billy was standing at the bar, and he called out after her, but she just gave him the finger and kept on walking. She started humming the lyrics of that old, catchy, pop song recorded by Nancy Sinatra.
“These boots are made for walking…and that’s just what they’ll do…”
Pretty soon these boots will be boarding a plane making their way back home to my boys! Lexi thought happily.
Chapter Twenty-One
After leaving the Filmont Inn, Penelope had driven around for an hour before finally deciding there was nowhere to go but home. When she got home, she looked in on the kids and lay awake in bed all night without sleeping. She had hoped Michael would come home after both she and his mistress had left him at the hotel, but he had never shown up.
Penelope’s eyes were still open when her alarm went off at six o’clock. The alarm continued to beep as she stared blankly at the crown molding that bordered her bedroom ceiling. The bedroom was a sandy brown, and she remembered it was one of the reasons she had picked this house. It seemed so silly now, picking a house because of a paint color…to think that only a few short months ago her greatest concerns were picking paint colors and draperies.
Penelope remembered how content Michael seemed, and despite his complaints about the cookie cutter designs of the neighborhood, she could tell he was excited to live in such a beautiful, spacious home. She imagined Angie’s face that day as she jumped out of the car to look at every home with a For Sale sign in the yard, and no matter how big or small the home, each one was “The One,” according to Angie.
Penelope thought about her first date with Michael and how she had dreaded meeting him because the date was arranged by mutual friends of theirs, and everybody knows how most blind dates turn out. Penelope and Michael had an immediate connection. Images of his proposal danced through her mind, taunting her.
She remembered how happy she felt when he got down on one knee and asked her to marry him in front of their family and friends at Thanksgiving. She had been taken by complete surprise, and in fact, it had taken several seconds for her to finally remember she was supposed to give him an answer. She shouted out, “Yes!” and burst into tears of utter joy as he slipped the beautiful diamond ring on her finger. Just like a scene from a romance novel, she remembered sadly.
“Mom, your alarm is going off! It’s driving us crazy!” Angie shouted through the door.
Penelope jumped up with a start at the sound of her daughter’s voice, and she reached over to turn off the alarm. “Get ready for school, guys!” she hollered as she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up to put on her robe. That’s the thing about being a mom, Penelope thought. No matter what is going on in your life, you still get up and play your role of mom. That’s one lesson I can thank my own mother for. She actually smiled slightly before remembering that her role of wife was about to change significantly. She headed for the bathroom to brush her teeth. Like usual, she removed her engagement ring before wetting her brush out of fear that it would slide from her finger and escape down the sink drain. Without thinking twice about it, she picked up the ring and did exactly that. She watched it swirl around the sink until it edged its way to the drain in the middle of the basin.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Seeing Alex’s truck in the driveway felt like a punch in the gut. He was sitting on the sofa in the great room when she came through the door. The daily newspaper was on his lap, but he did not appear to be reading. He was looking straight ahead at the flames that danced in the fireplace. “Alex?” she called out, wondering if he was asleep or deep in thought. He’s definitely awake, she realized as he turned around with an ugly expression on his face.
“Where have you been all night, Violet?” he boomed, his voice echoing off the high cathedral ceilings.
Violet was shocked by his anger and the sheer volume of his voice, and she stammered, “A-Alex, I—” but he quickly cut her off.
“I got here yesterday around three o’clock in the afternoon. I wanted to surprise you, and that’s why I insisted you not pick me up from the airport. Do you even realize why I planned to come home yesterday instead of today? Well, do you?” he hollered again.
This Is Not About Love Page 7
