Hitz

by Sherryl Hancock

  “There’s no need for that anymore,” she said, moving to kiss his neck. He closed his eyes in response to the feeling of her lips.

  “Oh,” he said simply, his voice catching in his throat as her hands trailed down to his jeans. They made love a little while later, and afterward threw on clothes and made their way to the kitchen. Over coffee, she told him she had a nail appointment, so he was free for a while. He said he wanted to go with her.

  “To get my nails done?” She looked at him as if he were crazy.

  “I don’t care what we do, but I don’t want to be away from you right now. Is that okay?”

  “I suppose so,” she said with a wink.

  Two hours later they walked into the nail salon, and the girl who usually did her nails told her to pick out a color for her polish. She eyed Jerith with interest; she’d never seen her client with any man other than her son. Nicolette stood looking at all of the bottles of polish, but couldn’t think of anything but what she and Jerith had done a couple of hours before. She felt him behind her suddenly, his arms going around her waist. “Need help?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do,” she said, glancing up at him.

  He picked out a shade that almost matched the auburn color of her hair.

  She turned to look at him. “Really?”

  “Yep.”

  Nicolette shrugged, and nodded.

  A little while later, while Kim was working on her nails, Nicolette glanced over at Jerith. He was watching her, and she smiled. A few minutes after that, Nicolette heard the bell at the front door tinkle as someone walked in. She glanced over and saw a blond girl wearing tight short shorts and a tank top. She looked about twenty, and she was quite buxom. Nicolette glanced at Jerith as the girl looked at him. He gave the girl a smile, but then looked back over to Nicolette.

  On the way out to the car later, Nicolette asked him about the girl. “So was that the groupie type you were talking about?”

  “Nah, she was mild by comparison. She was flashy, but not too bad.” He opened her door for her; he had driven her in his car over to the shop.

  “Flashy?” Nicolette said when he got in on his side.

  “Yeah, not anything like you.”

  “And what does that make me?” Nicolette asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

  Jerith thought about the question for a minute as he started the car and pulled out of the parking space. “It’s kinda like the difference between a rhinestone and a diamond. They’re both beautiful, but only the diamond is quality.”

  “And I am…”

  Jerith gave her a direct look. “The best diamond I’ve ever seen.”

  “Uh-huh,” she said, not sounding convinced. “What about someone like Billy—is she a rhinestone or a diamond?”

  “Billy? She’s a diamond, I guess, but she has to have the right man around to bring it out of her.”

  “Someone like you?”

  “Hell no!” He grinned. “Her and I are like fire and gasoline—get us too close together and we explode.”

  “But you’re in the same band. How does that work out?”

  “In that scenario our personalities make for a good show, but personally, I keep an eye on her and she hates me for it.”

  “I doubt she hates you.”

  “Hate might be a little strong, but she doesn’t like me keeping tabs on her. But I do care about her, and I care about our band. And she’s tried too many times to screw that up.” Jerith sounded completely serious, and Nicolette believed him beyond a shadow of a doubt.

  “Maybe Skyler Kristiani can straighten her out,” she said. “He’s a narcotics agent, you know.”

  “Yeah, I know. He and Billy were together a few years back. He burned her pretty good.”

  “Skyler?” Nicolette was surprised. He’d always seemed nice when she’d talk to him, but you never knew about some people.

  “Yeah, he was married when they got together, and halfway in, he got the guilts and dumped her. That’s when I met her.”

  “Oh.” That was an interesting twist. “So was she on drugs then?”

  “Yeah, that’s what got her started. Getting rich just made it easier for her.”

  ****

  Later that evening, Nicolette lay in the bathtub, thinking about all the things that had changed in a short twenty-four hours. Ryan had come home an hour before, looking different. Nicolette was sure he’d done exactly what he’d set out to do. She couldn’t face him; she’d gone into her bathroom and closed the door, then proceeded to sit there for almost a half hour before turning on the bath water and getting in.

  There was a light knock on the door.

  “Yes?” she said, sounding distant.

  “Nicky, it’s me,” Jerith said.

  “Come in.”

  He walked in and looked down at her. He sat on the low counter, his long legs reaching easily to the floor.

  “Well,” Nicolette said calmly. “Is the debriefing over?”

  Jerith chuckled, nodding. “Yeah, I talked to him.”

  “And is he still my baby boy or not?”

  “Nicky, he’s going to be your baby boy no matter what. God, I hope my mom doesn’t think that about me.” He looked distressed.

  “Come on, Jerith, out with it. Did he or didn’t he?”

  “Yes,” Jerith said, his expression serious now too.

  Nicolette sighed, leaning back in the tub and shaking her head.

  “Nicky,” Jerith said, his voice cautionary. “He has to grow up sometime, and this is totally normal, you know.”

  “No, I guess I don’t.”

  Jerith’s voice softened. “He hasn’t changed—he’s just growing up. You can’t stop that. It’s gonna happen either way, and it’s the way you handle it that makes the difference.”

  “How’d your mom handle it?” Nicolette asked, turning it back on him.

  Jerith looked at her for a long moment. “Well, she didn’t sprinkle me with holy water and hold a cross up in front of me, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Funny.” Nicolette didn’t sound amused.

  “She was a little weirded out at first, but then she got used to the idea. You gotta realize this was like eighteen years ago. People have come a long way on their feelings about sex since then.”

  “So you were Ryan’s age your first time too?” she asked, starting to grin.

  “Yeah.”

  “And who was the lucky girl?”

  He grinned back. “Gina Perducci.”

  “I see. And was she like Mandy Billings? A girl who’s probably been with half the football team already this year.”

  “No, Gina was a nice girl from down the street. I’m just lucky I didn’t get her pregnant or I’d be the proud owner of a pizza parlor in Jersey right now,” he said dryly.

  Nicolette laughed at that. “Okay, but does Ryan think he’s in love now?”

  Jerith grinned. “Not hardly.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Well,” Jerith said, looking embarrassed. “For one thing, he said that she said my name, during…”

  “Oh my God! What a slut!”

  “Yeah, and Ryan knows it.”

  “He does?”

  “Yeah.” Jerith shook his head. “Girls like that are just mileage.”

  Nicolette laughed and coughed at the same time. “Mileage?” she said, her eyes wide.

  “Yeah, you know, those girls in high school that were always loose.” Jerith saw her expression change and realized too late he’d said the wrong thing.

  “Yeah, I know,” Nicolette said, looking straight ahead but not seeing anything. “Those girls that got pregnant when they were sixteen.”

  “Nicky, that’s not what I meant.” Jerith stood and went to kneel next to the bathtub. He reached out, touching her under the chin and turning her face to him. “I know you weren’t like that.”

  “How?” she asked, sounding almost angry. “How do you know, Jerith? Nobody else seemed to know—I w
as just one of those girls.” Her voice held the hurt of years past, and Jerith knew he’d just hit a raw nerve. He felt like shit for it.

  He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Well, they were wrong, weren’t they?”

  Nicolette didn’t say anything for a long moment, then she looked at him. “Yes, they were,” she said quietly. “John was the only guy in high school… the first and only guy then.”

  “Yeah?” Jerith said, grinning, trying to lift her spirits again.

  “Yeah,” she said, lighter now.

  “But there’s been others, right?”

  “I told you I wasn’t a nun,” Nicolette said, narrowing her eyes at him, but her tone was still light. “Why?”

  “Well,” he said, shrugging, “I just wanted to know if I was walking on sacred ground or something.”

  “Oh, shut the hell up, Jerith Michaels!” She threw a wet washcloth at him.

  He laughed, reaching over and kissing her lightly on the lips. Then he pulled back to look at her. “You okay about all this?”

  Nicolette looked at him for a long minute. “I just don’t know how to face him now. I’m gonna look at him so differently.”

  “Well, just don’t make him feel weird, ’cause that’s how he’s going to feel anyway, especially if his own mother treats him that way. That sets up a whole lot of problems down the road.”

  Nicolette gave him a measured look. “You a psychologist on the side, Mr. Michaels?”

  “No, I had a friend whose parents treated him like a weirdo when they found out he was having sex, and he turned out kind of strange, and he has a lot of problems with women.”

  “Lots of men do—is it because of their mothers?” Nicolette said wryly.

  Jerith shrugged, shaking his head. “Maybe…”

  ****

  The night of the concert, Skyler got a call. He told Billy he had to go, and tried to drag Chelsea out of the place. Billy had finally said she’d bring Chelsea back with her in an hour or two. Skyler had given Billy a long look, as if not sure he could trust her.

  “I won’t be driving, Skyler,” she said, knowing what he was thinking.

  “Alright, but let’s not make it too late.” Skyler looked pointedly at his daughter, then at Billy. “If you get held up send her home in a cab—I’ll pay for it.”

  “She’ll come home in a limo, and I’ll be with her,” Billy said, reaching over to kiss him. He grinned at her and nodded, like, “Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it.”

  Two hours later, Billy and Chelsea were riding in the limo. Billy had showered and changed; she was wearing jeans, a black camisole top with a red leather jacket over it, and red leather cowboy-style boots. Chelsea felt absolutely frumpy by comparison.

  “So,” Billy said after they’d been on the road for a few minutes. “You gonna give your dad a break or what?”

  “What do you mean?” Chelsea was surprised by Billy’s directness, although she knew she shouldn’t be.

  “I mean, this crap with treating him like he’s some senior citizen or something.”

  “Well, he is forty-eight, you know.”

  “Yeah, and I’m thirty—so what?”

  “I mean, he acts his age, or at least he did, before…”

  “Before what?”

  “Before you, I guess.” Chelsea wasn’t sure what else it could be.

  “Well, he hasn’t acted old since I’ve been around, and I don’t appreciate you treating him like he is.”

  “That’s what I mean—it’s like with you he’s not so old anymore. He seems younger and stronger somehow.” Chelsea shrugged. “I guess it must be your influence.”

  “Well, maybe it is, but your dad’s a pretty cool guy anyway. I can’t believe you don’t know that,” Billy said, shaking her head.

  “He used to be. But the last three years or so have been hard… I mean, after—” Chelsea cut off, realizing she was about to say too much. But it was too late; Billy had caught the beginning of the sentence, and she leaned forward, waiting for the rest.

  “After what, Chelsea?” she asked when it was obviously not forthcoming.

  “I knew he hadn’t told you. He doesn’t tell anyone.”

  “Tell me what, Chelsea?” Billy was starting to get worried.

  “Three years ago, Dad had a heart attack.”

  Billy was stunned.

  Chelsea shook her head. “He hasn’t been the same since. It’s like it made him realize he was getting old, or something…”

  “But he’s in better shape now than he was ten years ago.”

  “Ten years ago?” Chelsea said. “You knew him ten years ago?”

  “Yes.” Billy realized Chelsea knew nothing about those days; she’d only been five at the time. “So why is he in such great shape if he’s feeling old?” she asked, hoping to divert Chelsea’s attention. It worked.

  “Ever since then he runs almost every morning, and lifts weights and all that. The doctor told him he needed to exercise, and that’s what he does, but it hasn’t changed his mental state much. He seemed to get old overnight, like he was feeling real mortal all of a sudden. The doctor told us it was perfectly normal, but he said Dad should snap out of it. He hasn’t, till now.” Chelsea looked pointedly at Billy.

  “Do you think our being together is bad for him? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

  Chelsea said nothing; she just looked embarrassed.

  The rest of the ride was silent for the most part. Billy couldn’t believe what Chelsea had told her. Skyler had had a heart attack—she couldn’t even imagine it. He seemed so healthy and virile, but maybe he wasn’t, and maybe she was pushing him too much. When they arrived at the house, Chelsea used her key to let them in. Billy went down the hall to Skyler’s room. She found him asleep on the bed, wearing his usual cotton pants and no shirt. She closed the bedroom door and then undressed, leaving on her camisole and underwear. She sat on the bed and watched him sleep for a long time. He was lying on his back with one arm over his eyes. Again, Billy marveled at the change in him from ten years ago. Back then he’d been handsome, and lean. Ten years later, he was even more handsome, the touches of gray only adding to his looks. His body was in better shape, toned, stronger somehow; his arms were more muscular, as well as his chest.

  Skyler turned in his sleep, rolling to his side. His hand touched her leg. He woke up, and looked up at her, catching her expression.

  “What?” he said.

  “Nothing,” she said, smiling.

  “When did you get in?”

  “’Bout twenty minutes ago.”

  “And you’ve been sitting there ever since?”

  “Yes, and watching you.”

  “Why?” he asked, all cop.

  Billy narrowed her eyes at him. “God, you are suspicious, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I am. Now why were you watching me?”

  “Because you’re gorgeous and I like to watch you. Is there a problem with that?”

  “Other than it’s bullshit, no.” Skyler had seen something else in her eyes, and as much as she was trying to evade him, he knew something was definitely up.

  “Skyler!”

  “Billy, don’t try to bullshit me. What is it?”

  Billy looked at him for a long moment. “Why didn’t you tell me about the heart attack?”

  “Where’d you hear that?”

  “Chelsea told me, but don’t be pissed at her—I made her tell me,” Billy said, holding up a hand.

  “Oh yeah, I’m sure you had to hold a gun to her head,” Skyler replied angrily, sitting up. “Shit, I think she likes to tell people how her old man just about died and that he’s due for another one any day.”

  “Almost died, Skyler?” Billy said, taking on a stricken look.

  “Oh, she didn’t tell you that part? Oh, yeah, I wracked up my car too—or didn’t she tell you that either? Some country road out here, on my way home from work. If some passerby hadn’t noticed the red car in the gully you’d be sitting he
re with a dead man.” His tone was even, but his eyes flashed.

  “Jesus,” Billy breathed. She didn’t know what to say to him.

  Skyler could see the way she was looking at him, and he felt fury flood his veins. It was as if everything that had happened between them in the last few days had ceased to exist. Now she felt sorry for him, and he couldn’t stand that. It made him feel sick. He stood up and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

  He walked through the house, running into Chelsea coming out of her room to see what was wrong. He glared down at her. “I hope you’re happy, you little meddling brat. Now Billy knows the whole story.”

  Chelsea shrank from his icy words. He’d never spoken to her that way before, and she didn’t know how to respond. She backed up into her room and threw herself on the bed, crying.

  Skyler ignored her. He needed to get out of there. He walked outside and stood at the railing. After a few minutes he vaulted over it, landing lightly on the ground below. He started running, crossing the grassy acres of his land. Finally, he made it to his property line and leaned on the fence there, looking out over the fields. It was fully dark, but the fields were lit by a full moon. He closed his eyes, wanting to turn the clock back and fix everything he’d screwed up in his life. He thought about his wives, and his children. He thought about the infidelities, the screaming fights, the tears, the anger, everything. He also remembered lying in a hospital room, hoping he’d just die this time. He’d been close to death three times before, twice while in the Army and once since he’d become a police officer, but never had he felt as hopeless as when his own body had betrayed him.

  When the doctor told him the best way back, the best way to keep it from happening again, was to exercise and eat right, Skyler had attacked it with a vengeance. But he felt like a convicted felon. The fact that he’d had a heart attack made him a source of sympathy, and the idea of someone like Billy feeling sorry for him made him furious. The anger flooded his veins again, and he slammed his fist down on the fence post. He proceeded to beat on it till his knuckles were bloody and he was out of breath.