Broken Notes

by Ann Marie Frohoff

  “Okay. Let’s go get some wood.”

  We didn’t have to go far. As soon as our heels hit the stone floor of the lobby, Simon insisted on helping and arranged for wood to be delivered. Sienna and I, bundled up in our coats and hats, walked arm in arm around the corner to the market for some wine. We talked in circles, trying to convince ourselves that the life ahead of us would be better.

  When we arrived a short time later back at the apartment, Simon was standing over a man who was tending to the fireplace. “Don’t want’ya to burn the buildin’ down.” He pointed to the man who was halfway inside the chimney.

  “Thanks man,” I said, and took the wine into the kitchen to search for an opener. I grappled with what the next day would hold as I pulled each drawer open looking for the wine opener. I set down the bottle after I opened it and took my phone from my pocket. I set the alarm to wake me at 7 AM and sent Marty a text to be at my door an hour later. I would show up to Dump and Sienna’s apartment to try and salvage anything I could.

  I stood in front of a roaring fire, holding two glasses of wine, and wished it was Aly, who’d walked out from the hallway. As the seconds passed, I was surprised at how at home I felt with Sienna there. She’d put on loose-fitting sea blue pajamas and pulled her hair back into a ponytail.

  “Thank you,” she squeaked, covering her mouth in an attempt to stop the emotion from tumbling out. She was hurriedly at my side, taking a wine glass out of my hand. She sniveled the tears back. One lone drop spilled from her left eye. “Cheers to new beginnings.”

  I smiled sadly, reaching over and wiping the tear away. She tipped her head at me, taking a gulp from her glass. “To the future.” I bowed. “Hold this.” I handed Sienna my glass. “Move.” I gestured and bent down sliding the coffee table out of the way and moved the sofa to directly face the fireplace. I then moved the boxes and bag filled with paper to arms’ length.

  Sienna sat down and finished off her glass as fast as it took me to blink. I did the same and walked to grab the wine from the kitchen. When I returned, she’d started to burn the letters. I was numb. I was hollow. I was as vacant as I’d ever felt as I watched my best friend’s widow burn him away. She stared expressionless with each envelope she’d toss into the flames. Each time, a burst of red heat would rush upward and outward and the ash would replace its spouting rage. I watched her closely. She looked like a different person. I could barely remember her as she used to be even just a few months before. Her once full, youthful cheeks were slightly hollowed in that model way that made the lens love you.

  She’d matured in a beautiful, ravaged way, and I wondered how long she’d been drinking and using whatever else she may have been using. Now it was clear to me that it’d been kept from Dump for longer than she’d let on. I could tell by how easily she drank her problems down her throat, and thought back to the Ambien and other unidentifiable pills we’d found in her bag.

  My head spun in a light, content way – finally. I slumped back and watched silently as she balled up the white empty trash bag and tossed it behind where we were sitting. Before I realized it, we’d gone through two bottles of wine. I lazily watched Sienna as she dug into the first box, and she stood tossing the largest handful of paper into the fire. It snarled out at her angrily, making her stumble back onto the sofa.

  “Whoa!” she laughed. “I guess the fans are pissed I didn’t read their fucking letters.” She laughed almost diabolically, and then her face twisted and her eyes welled up. “I’m sorry.” She looked up at the ceiling, rocking back and forth. “I’m sorry I can’t handle this. I’m sorry I don’t care. You left me, and I know you didn’t want to, but you’re gone and I can’t deal with it.”

  My stomach lurched. She was talking to Dump.

  She wept, and the burn in my nose knotted my throat. I swallowed it down and squeezed her shoulder in an effort to comfort her and myself. She tipped back into me, and I held her close and she sobbed harder into my chest. I brushed the hair away from her face and kissed the top of her head. She was warm and soft, and it felt good to have her in my arms. It felt too good. I knew I shouldn’t keep holding her with that thought drumming in my head, but I did, and I wanted to. I needed her there as much as she needed me.

  “Nothing lasts forever.” Her warm breath penetrated my t-shirt, and I agreed, kind of.

  “Sometimes, and sometimes it’s different, but the same.”

  She shifted to look at me, but remained in my grasp. “What do you mean?”

  “Just like sometimes love isn’t enough. Love doesn’t keep two people together. There’s all the other life shit that gets in the way. Two people with different dreams, different timelines, different ideals.”

  A weak smile crossed her lips, and she nodded in understanding. Our faces lingered close, too close, and she whispered, “Thank you for being here for me.” Her breath, sweet with wine, washed over my face. “I’m sorry for taking over your home.”

  Our eyes held each other’s, and she inched closer to me. I held her tighter and I went to say not to worry about it, and something foreign inside me swelled. I wanted to tell her to stay for as long as she’d like, that I wouldn’t be home anyway. But instead I kissed her. She immediately pulled away, touching her lips. Shock flickered as her pupils dilated. I went to apologize, but she moved in so swiftly, kissing me back, holding my face, and I let her soft lips brush over mine.

  She whispered into my mouth,,“Thank you.”

  I gently pushed her away and closed my eyes, but I didn’t fully release her. My mind raced and my heart raced but I pulled her back to me and we lay there, saying nothing at all. Her thoughts were probably the same as mine – What the fuck was happening? What am I doing? But we kissed again, and this time our tongues softly blended together and my hands began to roam. Our unacquainted bodies pressed together, inviting and needy. Neither of us spoke; we just breathed each other in, knowing if our voices sounded it would halt whatever was happening.

  When I awoke at 7 AM when my alarm sounded, I was curled up, uncomfortably and alone, on the sofa. Sienna wasn’t by my side. Why would she be, anyway? I reflected on the night, and breathed a sigh of relief that we’d had enough sense to not go any farther than making out, even though my body wanted more. I’m fucking going to hell, I thought as I rolled over, stiff from sleeping on the sofa. I had a throbbing headache from drinking an entire bottle of wine with no dinner.

  I rubbed my temples, sitting up, and the painful pounding kept forcing my eyes shut. Squinting at the light filtering through the grey haze of the early morning, I noticed Sienna’s bag was at my feet, and some of the contents had fallen out. An orange prescription bottle caught my eye, and an instant pang surged to the very core of me. The kind of pang that makes your entire body numb, a craving so profound that it overtakes every sense. With shaky hands, I reached for the bottle – Hydrocodone.

  Perfect, I thought as I removed the cap, and a flash of guilt coursed. I knew I should put the bottle back, but instead I tapped out a couple chalky white pills. I didn’t think twice, tossing them into my mouth, swallowing them dry. What was the difference? It was a pain med, just like the Vicodin I had in my bedroom. I needed the physical and psychological pain to melt away, just like my dreams of having Aly with me. Fuck it, I thought, as I lay back and waited for them to take affect. The relief was a rush, unlike the Vicodin. I felt them take ahold of me within twenty minutes. I stood and it was as if I floated.

  I felt zero pain. I felt energized.

  Marty arrived promptly at 8 AM. I’d arranged through Mark, Sienna’s attorney, to pay the outstanding rent owed. I wanted to get my hands on Dump’s drums and written music. No one really knew that Dump wrote music, and I knew Sienna would one day be happy to have something that was his.

  I went to say goodbye to Sienna and lightly knocked on the guest bedroom door. “Sienna?”

  I heard faint music and tapped on the door again. This time I turned the knob and cracked it open, peering in. She
was sitting in the middle of the queen-size bed with her legs crossed in front of her. She was reading a book – in a lacy black bra and panties. When our eyes locked, my fingers tingled. What the fuck? I cautioned myself, and looked away.

  “Um, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to walk in on you.” She didn’t reply, and I turned to leave. “I’ll be back later.” I shut the door and exited the hallway so fast I wouldn’t have heard her respond. I needed to get the fuck outta there.

  I grabbed Marty by the elbow and towed him out. “Let’s go.”

  Marty adjusted his glasses. “What’s going on? Everything okay?”

  I sighed. I almost fucked Sienna last night. “Sienna never went back to her place, and never paid any bills or rent since he died. We need to salvage what we can over there and make arrangements for some sort of estate sale.”

  “Wow.” Marty slapped his head and pulled on his gloves as we exited the elevator.

  Ten hours later, I was standing back at my front door with a satchel full of papers; Dump’s music, poems, sketches and pictures he held dear – pictures of Sienna, who looked so different now. I couldn’t even take a moment to look at them without wanting to lash out at someone. At one point while sifting through their things, their love letters, I wanted to vomit for crossing the line, but something pulled at me. I felt like I needed her. My hand shook as I reached out to open the door. I retracted balling it into a fist. I began to sweat. I reached into my pocket, took the cap off the bottle, and popped the oval horse pill in my mouth. All I wanted was to curl up in bed and fall asleep. I wanted to dream of better times, easier times, simpler times. I wanted to vanish into oblivion.

  I wasn’t sure what to expect when I came through the door, but it was dark, save the lights from the street shining through the windows. It smelled like fire and ash. I looked toward the hallway and could see a dim light from the guestroom, Sienna’s room, illuminating the rug in an oblong rectangle – her door was open. My heartbeat speed up as I thought about how I left her in the morning, and how she’d been practically naked. I thought about how good she felt in my arms, and I wanted more.

  When I approached her doorway, it was as if she was waiting for me. She must have heard me come through the door. She was staring at the entrance as I appeared through it. She lay under the covers with a book resting on her chest. The only light in the room was coming from a little reading light she’d attached to the headboard. A look of relief glinted in her eyes, and I could see the rise and fall of her breathing beneath the white down comforter. I believed her flared reaction to be anticipation. She knew, like I did, that last night wouldn’t be the end.

  She watched me as I removed my coat and my clothing, leaving it in a pile on the floor, Without a single word spoken, I crawled in next to her, taking her warm body in my arms. Her heated breath flooded over my chest as she burrowed her face into me, and her cool fingers ran over my skin.

  This night, I only held her as her tears wet my chest. Only our breath would be heard.

  30

  Jake

  For the next eight days, Sienna and I lived together as if we were a couple. We went about our daily business, meeting for lunch, shopping, and going for long walks in a winter wasteland that was Central Park – not to mention popping pills together like they were vitamins. Each time our eyes met, it was as if we both wanted to talk about what was going on, but neither of us had the courage to. We were in total denial of our reality. There was nothing unusual about our relationship on the surface. The band and Marty knew Sienna had continued to stay with me during her transition, but below the exterior behind the closed door of the guest bedroom, we pushed the envelope a little farther – never acknowledging what we were doing was wrong – or was it?

  Dump was gone, and Aly and I had essentially broken up. Aly and I agreed to remain tethered, but that was it. If I had to choose, it would be Aly, but she wasn’t an option. I wasn’t going to fight what was happening between Sienna and I.

  Life rolls on.

  It was Christmas Eve, and I was leaving for Los Angeles first thing in the morning. Sienna too was spending Christmas back home in LA with her family, though she was leaving later than I. I lingered over my silver suitcase sitting on the bed I once shared with Aly. Staring at the stack of t-shirts I’d just placed in it, I was stoked I’d be in warmer weather and thought about staying longer than just a few weeks. I wanted something new. The rhythm had returned since Sienna and I had begun our adventure, if that’s what you wanted to call it – new musical hope flickered, but with it were dark secrets – all fueled by booze, pills and lust. The thought of what went down just the night before made me prickle with desire. After eight days of kissing, caressing and fondling, we finally made each other come – and the sound of her ecstasy still echoed in my brain, making my blood rush. I kept telling myself it was innocent enough because I didn’t stick my dick inside her, even though I wanted to.

  I cursed myself – I can’t go there again.

  Tap, tap, tap.

  It was as if Sienna read my mind and appeared there to test me. “What time do you leave?” Her soft voice pitched higher than normal.

  My nerves prickled up my spine. “Before dawn.” I didn’t want to face her, she was something I knew I couldn’t keep playing with.

  “Okay. Um, if you don’t have any plans tomorrow night, you’re more than welcome to join me. My LA agency is having a holiday party.”

  I felt her presence disappear as I pretended to organize my things. Confusion and regret increased inside me. I had to clear the air with Sienna. I had to finally address what we’d been doing and set boundaries or something. I had to define what was happening between us. I turned and hurried to find her, running into her in the hallway, and words rushed out of her mouth before I could form any of my own.

  “I’m sorry, Jake.” Her voice trembled. “I know we shouldn’t be doing what we’re doing. I’m sick to death when I think about it. I’m so sorry for putting you in this position. I just…”

  “Hey, stop it.” I brought her close, resting my cheek on her head. My nerves were eased by her remorseful commentary. “I don’t know what happened either, but you can’t blame yourself. It’s me too. I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t think anybody knows? What if someone finds out? Oh my God, the media will have a field day.” Fear hitched in her voice as she moved away from me, shaking her head violently. “All those lunches and walking in the park arm-in-arm. I just know those motherfucking paps had to have taken pictures.”

  “Stop worrying, Sienna. No one’s gonna suspect anything. It’s not like we were making out in public.”

  “No one can know.”

  “Shhh. No one’s gonna know anything.” I gripped her by the shoulders, looking deep into her big, hazel green eyes. She pulled away, rubbing her hand over her forehead.

  “I need a drink.”

  I followed her into the kitchen and she grabbed two glasses from the shelf. “You want one?” She asked as she reached for the whiskey.

  “Yes.”

  We clanked our glasses together. The amber liquid burned going down, and I sighed loudly. “Don’t worry.”

  “Okay,” she whispered, and her face crinkled. “Uhh! God! Why?” She slammed her glass on the counter, and I swigged the last of the liquid in mine down my throat.

  I grabbed her by the neck and pulled her to me, kissing her on the temple. Her arms wrapped securely around me. I shifted to look at her and cupped her gorgeous, pale face in my hands.

  “Everyone has a secret,” I said, and lowered my head to kiss her. Her lips met mine, pressing into me eager for more. “And this is ours.”

  We stood entangled, feeling things we shouldn’t have been feeling. With a soft touch to my cheek, she left me standing there with a hard on. I felt like she wanted me to follow her, but I couldn’t. I wanted to, but the desire wasn’t enough to coax me into doing something more regretful than I already had.

  That night, we slept separ
ately.

  I awoke at dark-thirty, squinting at the clock on Aly’s side of the bed. It read 5:30 AM. I ignored the sinking feeling I had at seeing Aly’s beautiful, smiling face in the picture of us lit up by the clock’s light. I was glad I had enough sense not to continue with Sienna – what the fuck were we thinking anyway? I hopped in the shower, and was ready by the 6 AM pick-up time I had scheduled. I wheeled my luggage past Sienna’s door and stopped for a moment, almost going back to say goodbye.

  I shook my head, deciding against it.

  ***

  Cloudy and cold, the wind pushed at my back as I jogged to my hotel, ending my early morning attempt at running. I mostly walked. I was determined to detox. I had the shakes and hot flashes from weaning myself off the pills. It was like having the flu, an extended version. At least this time it was bearable. The last time was forced rehab, cold turkey, and I literally thought I’d die from the pain. This time, I thought I’d do it myself under the radar of prying eyes, with the guidance of Amy, my long-time sponsor. I’d shown up on her doorstep unannounced straight from the airport.

  I knocked on Amy’s olive green door. At least I’d hoped it was still Amy’s door. I looked over my shoulder. My eyes leered over every car window and every bush. I was a professional at spotting cameras and their owners – motherfuckers. I appeared to be in the clear. If anyone woulda spotted me, they’d think I was in Hawthorne to buy drugs; instead, I was there to get off them. How the hell did I get here…again? I clutched at my stomach. I was feeling nauseated, and it took every bit of strength not to pop the pills in my mouth.

  “What the fuck?” I heard her voice through the door as she unlocked it.

  “Merry fucking Christmas.” I smiled wildly, holding my arms open wide when she opened it. “I’m back.”

  She pursed her lips and leaned against the door jam, trying not to smile. Her hair was wild, like she’d just had sex. “You know you coulda called.”