Broken Notes

by Ann Marie Frohoff

  The one firm choice I did make was that this would be my home, with Jake, no matter where I chose to go to school. I reasoned with myself throughout our breakfast, and I grew more excited about our planned day. I found out Jake didn’t have an Emily in New York, yet. He’d said, “We’ll choose an assistant together.” The whole idea of having someone picking up after me regularly nagged at me, and I worried about the cost of everything.

  I thought about getting a job. I had a few thousand dollars saved, and the money I’d gotten as graduation gifts, but it wouldn’t last long if I wasn’t careful. I grew uneasy at the thought of milking Jake for money. That’s the last thing I wanted. I wanted to be my own person. I definitely would start looking for something to do with myself.

  I wondered about Jake’s schedule. The band was on a short break, from what I understood. The new music was set to be released soon, and details of touring and such were being finalized.

  Our conversation drifted to Jake’s concern about Dump. He was apparently on the mend from whatever was wrong with him. I guess the doctors said he was anemic or something like that. Jake didn’t know what to think, because he was hearing conflicting things from Bobby vs. Dump. Bobby seemed to think Dump was sicker than he was letting on. Hearing Bobby’s name made me think of Marshall. Marshall and Bobby had an on-and-off relationship, but they seemed be going strong, regardless of their status. Marshall was hellbent on going to FIDM, the Fashion Design Institute of Los Angeles, so I knew better than anyone that it would be tough keeping something going when the other person was never around.

  Jake changed our meandering conversation to focused action when he realized how late in the morning it was getting. He swatted my butt to go get ready and took over doing the dishes. “Alright Alycat, get going.” His eyes sparkled, making my love and lust for him surge.

  I suddenly didn’t want to go anywhere. I wanted him in bed. I tilted my head and reached out for his arm, running my hands over his bare skin. “I think you need to come get ready with me.”

  He threw me a mischievous glance, grinning, and turned off the water. “Don’t tempt me, Alycat.” He looked at the clock on the oven. “It’s already 10:30, and I have something to show you, but we don’t have much time.”

  I pouted and turned on my heels, walking out of the kitchen. “Fine. I won’t be naked for long.” I threw out one last lure – he didn’t bite. I heard the water turn back on, and I wondered what it was that he had to show me.

  What I didn’t expect was to be dragged to Jake’s old apartment. Standing on the street corner, I focused on the hot dog vendor and tried to stave off tunnel vision. The last thing I wanted was to be anywhere near the life he had in New York before me, but there I was, meeting a grey-haired Russian man named Sebastian, Jake’s old doorman. Who apparently knew our entire life story.

  After our introduction, Jake and I began to climb five flights of stairs. I found it hard to believe that people lived in buildings with no elevators. I couldn’t imagine moving furniture in and out of these narrow hallways and stairwells. The floors had that old black-and-white checkered vinyl covering. The fixtures were old and baroque, and each floor landing had a beautiful two-tiered chandelier that lit up the windowless hall. The walls were clean, and painted grey with white trim. We ran into a sixty-something woman as she came down the stairs, wearing a dated eighties sweat outfit. She greeted Jake, happy to see him, and asked where he’d been. He politely answered that’d he’d been on tour and pushed me up the stairs, saying his goodbyes in as many ways as he could not to offend her.

  “That’s Margo. She’s been here for forty-five years.” He stepped up the stairs, taking a mouthful of air. “She’s too fucking nosey.”

  Winded, we finally reached the intended floor, where there were four doors. Jake took a set of keys from his pocket and unlocked the door at the farthest end of the hallway. He stood holding it open for me. I didn’t know what to expect, but I immediately saw the black and white photos of myself when I came through the door. The place didn’t look like anyone lived in it. It was clean and modern, with a single red L-shaped sofa sitting in the middle of the living room, a contrast to the rest of the building. The floors were sealed concrete, and the kitchen was much like the kitchen in London, with black granite countertops and stainless steel appliances. It was smaller than our apartment, but since this was a top floor, it had skylights. The walls were white, and the only things on them were the framed black and white pictures of me and a TV mounted over the fireplace.

  I rubbed at my arms. “Jake we didn’t have to come here,” I said, turning to face him as he shut the door.

  “I know, but I wanted you to see. Come…” He walked over to me and grabbed my hand, towing me to a door down a short hallway. He took the keys back out of his pocked and unlocked the door, pushing it open. There sat a bare mattress and frame, boxes, keyboards, and an entire drum kit. “I moved my shit in here when I sublet the place. The master bedroom is on the other side.” He walked over, sliding the closet door open, and there hung only men’s clothing.

  I felt ashamed for reading Sophia’s letter. “Jake I’m sorry. I should have never read that letter. It was private, and I feel like such a jerk.” I wanted to cry and hang my head. I gulped back the tears as I let my hair fall down to cover my face. I was relieved that all this existed, but felt so wrong. I sat on the bed. “I won’t look or open your things anymore.”

  I stared at my feet, unable to look at him. “Hey,” I heard him say in a comforting tone. I still couldn’t look at him. Then I heard a faint knock, and that made me look up at him. He had his head turned, facing out the bedroom door.

  “Huh,” he questioned. “Probably Sebastian. I still get mail n’ shit here.” He walked out the door and I stood, following him.

  I sat on the red sofa, staring at the images of myself. Then I heard Jake’s surprised voice. “Sophia.”

  A rush of words poured out of a woman’s mouth. “I just ran into Margo. She said you were here, and I just want to say I’m sorry. I know…” Jake shot me a glance. Sophia stepped into the apartment, and stopped talking when our eyes met.

  Awkward, I thought as my heart raced up into my throat. She was way prettier than the one grainy image I had of her. I closed my eyes and looked away.

  “Oh my God,” she gasped.

  I heard Jake shout out her name. “Wait, Sophia!” he said again. I could hear their voices strangle together in the hall and down the stairwell. Then I heard a door slam, then silence. Finally I heard footsteps. Jake came back in through the door. His hair was messy from running his hand through it, and I stood to face him. He looked overcome with regret. I trembled inside from disbelief.

  “Let’s go.” I approached Jake without touching him and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

  I walked out the door, and he followed me. Hearing the door slam shut, I went to step down the stairs, but Jake pulled me back up to him by my elbow. He took me into his arms, hugging me tightly. “No, I’m sorry.”

  I didn’t know how to respond. We were both sorry for our own reasons, but we wouldn’t have been there if it weren’t for my nosey, prying eyes reading that letter and accusing him of lying to me. I was wretched inside, and held tightly to Jake’s hand as we took each step down the stairs. I looked at the doors that lined the floor as we passed down the next flight of stairs. Sophia was behind one of them, probably burning Jake’s things.

  We said goodbye to Sebastian, and Jake promised to stay in touch. We both breathed a sigh of relief when we were a block away. I reached up, correcting Jake’s hair, and kissed him on the jaw. I felt his hands grab my waist. His arms wrapped around me, sending a warm, comforting feeling down into my gut, battling the apprehension that stirred. My paranoid imagination was in full swing. I looked over his shoulder, fearful that Sophia would be behind us, watching our every move.

  “I’m exhausted,” I whispered into his collarbone.

  Jake chuckled, uneasy. “Me too.” He spun me a
round when the light turned green for us to cross. “I don’t know about you, but I need a drink.”

  “I know, right?” I quipped.

  “Let’s catch a cab.”

  Jake went to hail a cab, and I watched him closely. He stepped out into the street, watching the cars and cabs fly by. He threw his arm into the air, but a cab passed him.

  “Why didn’t he stop?”

  “Probably already going to pick someone up.”

  “Why aren’t the other empty ones stopping?”

  “Out of service.”

  Hmm, okay. I watched as the empty cabs went by and realized that the light at the top was the indicator. Smart. I laughed at my ignorance – a million movies I’ve watched with cab scenes, and I never knew there was a system.

  Our short drive into SoHo had my butterflies fluttering, and I clutched Jake’s thigh as I took in the sights. The streets got a little tighter, and the storefronts more picturesque, with narrow one-door stoops, reminding me of London. I looked above the storefronts, and noticed that they were quite likely residential units. I smiled.

  “Don’t you think it would be cool to live in this part of town?”

  “Why? You don’t like where we’re at?”

  “I wouldn’t know yet.” I shrugged. “I just dig how everything is right here. You have all your stores and then live above.”

  “Yeah, this is my second favorite part of town.” He nodded. “But I like being near the park. I like seeing the green, open space. But this, this area is def on the radar. One of my favorite restaurants is here. That’s where we’re going. They have the best steak and fries and the best French onion soup I’ve ever had.” He pointed, announcing to the cabbie, “you can stop here.”

  We stood in front of a red-canopied restaurant named Balthazar and Jake moved around the smokers to open the door for me. It was packed with well-dressed patrons. My eyes roamed the room, meeting many other eyes, as heads perked up to see who was coming in. Typical. Two tall model-type women greeted us, and one knew Jake immediately.

  “Hey!” the one with long dark wavy hair and green eyes chirped. “It’s been a along time!”

  “Hey Ingrid.” Ingrid? Okay, he knew her name. I sucked in some air, pushing down my immature feelings, and smiled at her beautiful face. I felt so small, even though I stood eye-to-eye with her. “This is Alyssa, my girlfriend. She just moved here from California.”

  Her eyes registered with surprise, but happily creased as she smiled. “Nice to meet you, Alyssa. I’m Ingrid and this is Macy.”

  “Nice to meet you both.” Why were my hands sweating? Thank God she didn’t try to shake my hand. What. The. Fuck. Calm down, Aly.

  “We’re just gonna grab a seat at the bar.” Jake threw a gesture over his shoulder and winked at the girls, thanking them. I clenched my wet palms as Jake steered me by the small of my back.

  I eased onto the barstool and placed my purse on the counter as Jake scooted closer to me. “What say you, Jake!” I startled, hearing Jake’s name, looking to the bird-nosed man behind the bar.

  “What’s up, man? Good to see you!” They shook hands firmly. Bird-Man looked like he was shining from the inside out; he was delighted to see Jake. “Just rolled back into town. Been in Europe, then back home to Cali to get this little beauty over here with me.” Jake’s eyes roamed my face adoringly and looked back to Bird-Man. “This is Alyssa.”

  “Welcome to New York. I’m Chuck.” He smiled and threw cocktail napkins out in front of us. “What can I get you two?”

  “I’ll have a glass of champagne.” I looked to Jake, then to Chuck and smiled, trying to exude twenty-one-ness. Own it, Aly, I told myself.

  “I’ll have a vodka soda.”

  Chuck eyeballed me a moment longer, and then eyeballed Jake, and pressed his lips together as if he was deciding to serve us or not. Thank God he did. As soon as the bubbles hit my stomach, I relaxed. Clearly a placebo effect, but the idea of them calmed me, and I took another sip. Before I knew it, my glass was empty and I was really feeling the buzz. I asked Jake for another one.

  11

  Jake

  I threw back that first vodka in nearly one gulp, and I watched Aly as she emptied her glass just as quickly. The threads of anxiety tightened as I battled to break them. What a cluster fuck that was with Sophia. No doubt she truly hated me now for bringing Aly over there. I pacified myself by reaching out to Aly and scooting her stool closer to mine. We didn’t really say much to each other while we sat there, ordering another drink. Aly dug in her purse, taking out a few sheets of paper and unfolded them. She pointed to a picture of a white sofa with black and white patterned pillows.

  “You like that?” I looked at the picture thoughtfully. “White?”

  “No, silly, this is the place that I want to go to. They have new and used furniture.”

  “Ahh.” Chuck placed another drink in front of me with a wary eye. “Thanks. This is the last one.”

  “You bet it is,” he replied, throwing me a cautionary nod.

  “What was that?” Aly whispered under her breath when Chuck turned away.

  I began to explain Chuck was a friend of Amy’s, my LA Narcotics Anonymous sponsor. Chuck’s vice was heroin, just like Amy’s. He was my crutch when I first moved to New York. He had never served me a drink, nor did I ever ask, until one day Bobby demanded it after a particularly bad day – “Serve him a fucking drink. He popped pills, he didn’t drink himself to death’s door!”

  Then my phone rang out – speak of the devil, it was Bobby. I took the call outside. When I returned, Aly had paid the bill and stood to leave. She immediately noticed the worry etched on my face.

  “What, what is it?” She clutched my forearm with concern in her eyes.

  “It’s Dump. He’s in the hospital. He passed out.”

  “Oh my God,” she gasped, hand covering her mouth. “Is he okay?”

  “I don’t know.” I was worried. His sickness had been going on too long.

  Aly and I rushed to the hospital and found Bobby hunched over in the packed, no-frills lobby.

  “Bobby,” I said, startling him. “What’s up?”

  He shook his head. “Not sure. Sienna hasn’t come out yet.” He turned to Aly. “Hey Aly, not a very nice welcome being here, is it?” He stood and they hugged.

  We sat down in the waiting room and stared at each other in silence. Nearly every seat was taken. I held my breath, hearing the gurgling cough of the older man sitting next to me as he leaned over onto his walker. Aly wrung her hands, and Bobby searched my face, leaning his elbows down on his thighs. He hung his head.

  “Dude, Dump’s gotta be really sick.” He shook his head, staring at the floor. “I just know it. He’s lost too much weight.”

  “What?” I asked, surprised. “I just saw him two weeks ago. He seemed like he was getting better.”

  “Yeah, so did I. I guess he’s had no appetite, though.”

  “Do you live with them?” Aly chimed in.

  “Yeah, just moved in a month ago, temporarily. Until I find something.” Bobby looked at me. “Sienna asked me to stay as long as I want. She’s got shoots booked, and doesn’t want Dump alone.”

  “Why didn’t you guys tell me? Why isn’t Sienna calling me? Or Dump? I mean, fuck. Why am I just hearing all this from you?” I got up, pacing, and Aly grabbed my hand. I snatched it away, sitting back down. I was pissed that no one thought I should know anything. When I glanced up, I spotted Sienna walking towards us. She was red-eyed, holding back tears. I hugged her.

  “Hey…hey,” I said, rubbing her back, trying to comfort her. “It’s gonna be okay. What’s going on?” I wanted to shake her for not calling me directly. My heart raced.

  “No it’s not,” she wailed, shaking her head violently. Saliva bubbled at her lips as she sobbed, trying to catch her breath.

  I glanced at Bobby, and he looked horrified. “Is he dead?” Bobby gasped, clutching his chest.

  I wanted to throw u
p. “Is he okay?” I nearly shouted. I grabbed Sienna by the shoulders.

  “He has cancer…lymphoma something...” She leaned into my chest. sobbing harder. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I went numb. I looked at Aly. She had tears streaming down her face. Bobby stood there with his mouth hanging open, as shocked as I was.

  Holy fuck.

  The hospital admitted Dump, and two hours later, we were sitting in his hospital room, staring at each other. He was as pale as I’d ever seen him, making his tattoos look that much more vibrant and dark. He wore a black beanie that had Live or Die embroidered on it. How ironic, I thought.

  I pointed at it. “Did you plan that?” I chuckled at my morbid humor, trying to make light of his serious situation.

  He took the beanie off his head and stared at it. A smile peeked at the sides of his mouth. “You know it, motherfucker,” he said, and tugged it back over his bald head, squeezing his eyes shut. He pinched the bridge of his nose. My heart thudded a million miles per hour, watching s his emotions bubbled at the surface. His eyes were red, and his face twisted, holding back tears. “Those fucking cancer sticks,” he choked, sucking in a breath. Sienna rubbed at his forearm.

  Seeing Dump break down pulled at my heart. I’d never seen him scared or upset. “Man you’re gonna beat this.”

  Dump shook his head. “I dunno, man.”

  “Yes you are!” Sienna piped. “People beat this shit all the time.”

  “What’s going on, man? Did you know?” Bobby said in an accusatory voice.

  “I knew I wasn’t well.” He stared off in thought. “The fuckin’ docs over at that quack office kept misdiagnosing me…and then I just…I just didn’t wanna know, you know. I was hoping I’d feel better. I stopped smoking, started eating better…it was too late.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Aly said softly as she rubbed my shoulders. “You are gonna beat this.”

  “Yes, he is,” Sienna agreed, smiling at Aly’s positive comment.