The Rock Star Next Door, A Modern Fairytale

by Lily Silver

  Aunt Rachel took him aside and whispered in a low tone. Jessie wanted to follow. Michelle held her arm. “Jessie, if Dad dies Mom will be convicted of manslaughter. She’ll go to prison. We can’t let that happen.”

  “Where is she?” Jessie asked, not wanting to have to meet that woman anytime soon. She didn’t trust herself not to attack the crazy bitch. The woman had never made an actual suicide attempt that Jessie was aware of. She just threatened to do it whenever someone didn’t do as she wanted, but never once went through with it. And the one time her mother did attempt it she had to go and shoot their dad instead. Jessie’s thoughts weren’t very nice right now, to feel such deep anger and resentment for the woman who terrorized their family but she couldn’t help it.

  “She’s in jail.” Michelle whispered in a thick, watery voice.

  “Where is David?” Jessie looked around the waiting room for her brother-in-law.

  “Home, watching the boys. I’ve been calling him every hour.”

  “Jessie.” Aunt Rachel gestured for her to follow them out to the hall.

  Once Jessie was there, Aunt Rachel escorted her away from the waiting room and Michelle. “Honey, I’m sorry to have to do this to you guys at a time like this. You should all stand together, but . . .” She looked anxiously at the door, as if waiting for Michelle to come out and interrupt them.

  “Michelle is going to ask us to protect Mom, cover it up. Say it’s all a big mistake.” Jack filled Jessie in. “Dad’s still in surgery. That’s all we know.”

  “I was there, Jessie.” Rachel said in hard, determined voice. “Your father called me to try to help him talk her down and get her to the hospital. He was determined to have her committed this time, but Michelle--“

  “Michelle won’t admit there is a problem.” Jessie finished. “She wants to do what we were taught to do as children--pretend that nothing is wrong with our mom or with our family and just close ranks against the world and protect mom.”

  “Yes.” Aunt Rachel placed an arm about both of them, drawing them close. “It’s what your father has done for the past thirty years. When your sister was three years old your mom had a really terrifying ‘episode’. Your father was on the road. We feared your mom would hurt herself or Michelle. So, Grandma and I had your mom committed to the psyche ward of the hospital. When your dad came home he took her out of the hospital and that was the end of it. Come, walk with me.” Aunt Rachel’s voice cracked. She led the twins down the corridor, leaning on both of them now as if she were weary of the struggle, weary of keeping the secrets in the family.

  “Grandma respected his decision. She loved her daughter. She didn’t want to see Marcie in an institution. None of us did. But my mother helped your dad too much. She encouraged him in thinking that if we all just took care of Marcie it would all be okay. Of course, it wasn’t. When I was pregnant with your cousin Eric, I didn’t talk to your mom for a whole year. I couldn’t. She upset me too much with her wild accusations.”

  Jack and Jessie shared a look, knowing all too well how their mother could be when she was convinced about one of her delusions. She always thought people were out to get her, spying on her, trying to cheat her, or were plotting against her.

  “What was it that time?” Jack asked. “When you were expecting Eric?”

  “She kept insisting my husband was having an affair with her. She told me and our mother that your Uncle Dave was coming over to her house in the middle of the night while your dad was on the road. It was a lie, but she insisted, as she always does with her delusions, that it was the truth. It upset me badly. I was afraid it was true. But then we sat down and reasoned out her accusations. All of Dave’s time cards and paychecks showed he was at work every night during his shifts. If he left work to spend the nights with her, then his time cards would have shown it. He would have to take sick or vacation time to keep getting paid. We tried to explain that to her and asked her to stop making those accusations to everyone who would listen, but she kept doing it. So, you see, there have been times when I had to walk away from your mom and her illness to protect myself, too, just as you had to do.”

  Jessie had never known about her mom and her aunt being estranged. Apparently there was a lot she didn’t know about the prior generation of Delaneys.

  “Why did dad refuse to get mom help all those years ago?” Jessie asked. “He knew she was always making up stuff and she believed her delusions, too.”

  “He was old fashioned. He was taught that a man’s family problems were private, and there was a huge stigma attached to mental illness. Honey, this was over thirty years ago, when your sister was just a toddler. Things were very different back then. We didn’t hear detailed discussions about Borderline Personality Disorder or Schizophrenia on Oprah or Ellen. Mental illness in a family was always kept quiet. Your dad thought he could manage her mental illness himself. He did get her to see a doctor and she was taking medications but as you know, that changes every moon phase. She takes it for a while and then quits, convincing herself she doesn’t need it. And when he was on the road five days a week, out of town, none of us knew if she quit taking her meds until it was too late. She would have good periods, months without any delusions or any extreme episodes. Life would seem normal and then, well . . . you know.” Aunt Rachel waved her hand in a helpless gesture. “It would all just blow up in our faces.”

  Once they reached the end of the hall Rachel sat down on the cushioned bench and motioned for them to do the same. Jessie sat beside her aunt. Jack remained standing.

  “How bad is our Dad?” Jessie asked, wanting that truth right now more than the family confessional.

  “He was shot in chest.” Aunt Rachel said, and broke down into a fit of weeping.

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Jack stood beside their aunt as she sat on the cushioned bench. He had his arm about her shoulders as she leaned against him and wept into his side. He shoved his sunglasses up onto his head, meeting Jessie’s eyes with severity.

  He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. She knew what he was thinking, because Jessie was thinking exactly the same thing. If their father died, they were not going to let their sister and their mother cover up the deed by making it into a ‘mistake’.

  “Aunt Rachel, what happened?” Jessie prodded, rubbing her aunt’s back in a soothing manner. “Please, you said you were there. Did you talk to the police?”

  “Yes, I gave them my statement.” Aunt Rachel recovered. She sat up straight and patted Jessie’s leg with affection. “When your father tried to get her to put the gun down, she waved it at him, threatening to shoot him if he didn’t back away. You know how she gets, irrational, ranting and cursing, blaming all of us for what’s wrong in her head. Now, I don’t think she meant to shoot him, but she did, just the same. She did. She pointed the gun at him, threatening him with it and it went off. That’s what I told the police. But your sister, she wants me to recant, to change my story and make it so that it was all an ‘accident’, your mom moving the gun or cleaning it; more lies. This is serious. We can’t lie about it. What if she does it again? What if she hurts someone else? Michelle’s little boys are there at the house all the time--”

  “If Dad lives,” Jack cut in, “What will he say? Would he tell a lie to cover this up? He’s been lying for so many years, Aunt Rachel, pretending she’s normal, covering up when things go south. That’s why we ran away. We couldn’t deal with her shit anymore.”

  “Oh, my dear, dear Little Jack.” Aunt Rachel called him by his old nickname as he was named after their father. She took his hand and gazed up at him with love. “I know, honey. I know. And you did well for yourself. I’m proud of you. And, Jessie--sweetie--if only you had called me.” She took Jessie’s hand firmly in her own, squeezing it. “I know it’s probably too late but if you hadn’t broken off with that man and there was still a wedding in the offing, your Uncle Dave would be proud to walk you down the aisle. Both of us would be there, with bells on, honey
. This whole wedding thing, it was horrible. I’m so sorry. It never should have come to you breaking up with your man.”

  “They threatened to disown me. Not just Mom. Dad did too, this time.” Jessie admitted. “And they did. They turned their back on me because of Lex. Even Michelle. It was you who called us about Dad.”

  “Your father asked me to call you, honey.” Aunt Rachel whispered in a clogged voice ripe with tears. She cupped Jessie’s cheek and stroked her hair with affection. “Those where his last words when they were loading him into the ambulance, ‘Call the twins, I can’t die without seeing them again’, that’s what he said to me. His last thoughts were about you two, not your mother.” Aunt Rachel shuddered, as if the memory were before her again. “I believe he was sorry for all that had happened in the past month.”

  “But he went along with her. He took her side. He told me he would be ashamed of me if I married Lex.”

  It wasn’t easy to overlook his cruelty, even now. Mom casting her off was one thing. Jessie was used to it from the time she was six. It was a routine their mother played regularly; a predictable pattern in their lives. There would be months of normal times, almost happy times if you didn’t pay too much attention to the fact that you were walking on eggshells, trying not to upset Mom. And then Mom’s mental illness would rear its ugly head. She’d rant, cry, threaten and make everyone around her feel guilty because she was so miserable. Dad was the stable one when they were growing up. He didn’t threaten. He didn’t rant. He was always calm. To have him be willing to turn his back on Jessie for marrying the man she loved, it was like shaving off a piece of her heart.

  “I know.” Aunt Rachel said quietly. “But, when it came down to it he had to do it. You see, when he got so sick and lost his job three years ago, they put everything into your mom’s name. The house, the bank accounts, everything. It all belongs to her. So, if he didn’t go along with Marcie in her tirade against you over your marriage, well, he’d be out on the street, with nothing, Jessie. Nothing but his chemotherapy bills.”

  “What the fuck?” Jack swore loudly. “Why would he give everything to her? We sent them money--monthly--damn it--when he became ill we sent him money and it all went to her?”

  “Shhh--young man.” Aunt Rachel chastened. “You’re in a hospital.”

  “We would have taken care of him, and Michelle would have, too. He wouldn’t have been homeless.” Jessie countered, not buying into her Aunt’s excuse.

  “His pride wouldn’t allow him to ask you or Michelle to take him in. He worked hard all of his life. Uncle Dave tried to talk to him for you, honey. He met Jack privately at the bar one night and tried to talk him into not going along with your mom in disowning you. Your dad said if he had to choose between Marcie and his kids, in his mind it had to be Marcie. As a Catholic he took his marriage vows seriously--until death do us part.”

  “Yeah, and she nearly killed him.” Jack reminded them.

  Jessie held Aunt Rachel’s hand. She clutched it like a lifeline. Why, oh why couldn’t she have been Aunt Rachel’s child? Aunt Rachel loved them. She remembered going to Aunt Rachel’s house to spend the night. Sometimes two or three nights a week.

  As an adult, she understood the late night intrusions into her young life. When their dad was on the road Aunt Rachel drove to her sister’s house and brought Michelle, Jack and Jessie to her home when their mom started acting out again. Oh, she would never betray her younger sister by calling the authorities and turning her in for being unable to care for her children. Aunt Rachel was quietly trying to save them, one midnight car ride at a time.

  “We should go back in there.” Jessie murmured. “We left Steve alone with Michelle.”

  “Yeah.” Jack sighed. “She’ll be trying to save his poor little gay soul about now.”

  “You know?” Jessie gasped.

  “Hell--er--heck, yeah.” Jack amended, looking uneasily at their aunt. “It’s freakin’ obvious, isn’t it? No girlfriends, no girls, period. In L.A., Rock Stars don’t suffer from a deficiency in pussy--not unless they seriously don’t want it.”

  Both of them glanced quickly at Aunt Rachel, expecting a stern set down. The woman merely stood up and brushed the imaginary lint from her polyester slacks. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.” She murmured and walked back down the hall toward the surgical waiting room.

  Jack lingered in the hall. He touched Jessie’s hand. “So, we heard her confession, right? If it goes to trial, you heard what I did. Mom waved the gun at him and threatened him with it and then she shot him.”

  “Yes. That’s what I heard.” Jessie admitted, surprised by the sudden burning in her eyes as she thought of their mom in prison. “Let’s go rescue Steve from St. Michelle.”

  Lex entered the hospital waiting room bearing a tray of food he’d purchased at the cafeteria. He was pretty good at this drill. He’d had too many band members end up in the ER either from an O.D. or from being shot, stabbed or otherwise maimed by another drugged up roadie during their crazy months-long tours. The heavy tour schedules often turned into one long, coast to coast party. Food and caffeine. That was what kept them going during the long hours of waiting at the hospital.

  “Hey.” Jack greeted him with a lazy grin as he pushed away from the wall across the room and approached Lex. “You’re psychic, man. I’m starving.”

  “Good thinking.” Steve rose from the easy chair where he’d been slumped before the TV. “I was going to go down to the cafeteria. Need a walkabout.” He stretched gracefully while glancing with irritation to Lex’s left as Lex stood facing him in the doorway.

  Lex followed the agitated man’s resentful gaze. A woman who appeared to be an older version of Jessie was sitting on a sofa with her hands clasped before her, eyes closed as she muttered softly. A ten pound Bible lay open on the table in front of her. Jessie’s sister, he presumed.

  Jack was in front of him instantly, scooping up a plate filled with scrambled eggs, bagels and bacon. “Thanks, man. You’re a lifesaver.”

  “I’m going downstairs for some fresh air.” Steve mumbled. “I’ll be outside, in front of the gift shop.” He directed his words toward Jack, almost as a plea. Join me, run for your life, Steve’s eyes seemed to say.

  “Where is Jessie?” Lex looked from the praying woman to the two young men.

  “Oh, she’s in the bathroom down the hall. Aunt Rachel went home for a while to check on our uncle.” Jack said between chews. He slurped down the glass of orange juice in one gulp before continuing. “Uncle Dave has a heart condition. You’ll like Aunt Rachel.” Munch, munch. Jack’s eyes darted with annoyance to the woman across the room, as if to imply Lex wouldn’t like their sister very much. Seeing Lex had followed his silent implication, Jack caught Lex’s eyes and briefly made a spinning motion with his finger on the side of his head, the universal gesture for ‘crazy’.

  “Coming, Jack?” Steve persisted in an overloud voice due to his ear-buds as he brushed past Lex and lingered at the door. Steve leaned against the doorjamb, pulled his hoodie up to cover his head and pushed his sunglasses down. He placed his hands in his sweatshirt pockets. The ear-bud cord leading to his front pocket was a sharp white contrast against his severe black attire; from his black hoodie right down to the Doc Martin boots. Steve almost looked like a Goth. His disguise worked, as it was difficult to recognize him if you didn’t know it was Steve under all that.

  “Naw, I’ll catch up with you in a bit.” Jack waved Steve off with his fork in mid-air. “Jessie would never forgive me if I abandoned her lover to the Jaws of Christ over there.”

  Lex flinched and sucked in his breath with a hiss. That was a clear burn. So, Jack wasn’t leaving the room until Jessie returned, lest their uber-religious sister run him off or eat him alive or whatever it was Jack thought she might do to a new age spiritualist.

  He moved into the room and set the tray down on the small round formica dinette table. “I brought enough for all of you, so help yourse
lf.” Lex turned on his heel and said to the room at large. And when he looked again at the praying statue in the corner, he almost flinched as very cold, accusing eyes were glaring right back at him.

  “So, if you guys want to go downstairs for a smoke, I’ll wait here with Michelle . . .” Jessie’s light, lovely voice paused as she stood in the doorway next to Steve. “Oh, you’re here!” She said with such a pleased inflection in her voice Lex couldn’t help but smile at her, despite the dire circumstances. “Did you get us checked in to the hotel?” She came to his side and wrapped her arms about his waist in a very determined hug.

  Lex affirmed her inquiry, a little surprised by Jessie’s exuberance in hugging him. He’d been planning to play the whole thing a lot more low key, but she was fairly screaming to everyone in the room ‘this is my man!’ Apparently she wasn’t afraid of what her relatives thought anymore.

  Or, she was merely pretending she didn’t, showing bravado in the face of the enemy.

  He’d been debating about coming to the hospital. Lex seriously considered staying at the hotel and letting them call him--but he couldn’t stand being away from Jessie when she was so upset. And Jack, too, he realized. He was starting to really care about the kid. The thought made him grimace as he looked at the man before them who was blithely shoveling food in his mouth like a starved teenager. In many ways, Jack still behaved like a teenager. Even though they were the same age, Jessie was mature years beyond Jack.

  “Who is this?” Their sister stood up and approached them with the wary eyes of a guard dog.

  “This,” Jessie’s palm splayed on Lex’s chest as she stepped back slightly, “Is my fiancé; Alexander Coltrane.” Jessie puffed herself out much like a mother hen defending her chick. “And this,” she held out her hand toward her sister as her voice deepened dramatically, “This is my older sister, Michelle Carson.”