The Rock Star Next Door, A Modern Fairytale

by Lily Silver

  No one said a word. Even Jack stopped eating, as if sensing something unpleasant were about to happen between the women. Steve shuffled on his Doc Martins at the door, leaning back on the jamb as if to settle in. His wolfish grin, framed in a dark goatee said it all as he reached up to pull his ear-buds out of his ears, the better to hear with, my dear.

  “I was praying, so if you don’t mind, I’d like some quiet.” Michelle said, crossing her arms about her chest in a classic gesture of defense as she glowered at Lex. No polite ‘hi, pleased to meet you’ just a flat out insistence that she needed quiet to perform her religious devotions and the implication that they were interrupting them.

  Jessie straightened visibly. Red Riding Hood was meeting the challenge. Well, her red Wisconsin Badgers sweatshirt did have a hood, Lex noted with amusement.

  “There is a chapel on the first floor, on the west wing.” Jessie responded in a cool, controlled tone. “This is a family waiting room.”

  Michelle’s mouth dropped. Her body movements became stiff and jerky. “Excuse me? I’m praying for our father’s life, asking God to spare him. You could be a little more respectful to the godly people in the room.”

  “I’m not disrespecting anyone.” Jessie shot back. “Godly, Michelle? Really? Low blow, even for you.”

  Lex was impressed. Jessie was the youngest of the three but she wasn’t backing down in this little turf war. He didn’t like the woman before them and with good reason. She had tried to convince Jessie to break up with him a month ago because she believed he was a ‘devil worshipper’.

  “You won’t let me pray.”

  “I’m not preventing you.”

  “You said I should go elsewhere. That’s a very negative reaction to a little harmless prayer.”

  The words might seem harmless. They were anything but. Michelle was clearly implying that their reaction, or rather, Jessie’s suggestion, was somehow an attack on her religious beliefs. Jessie was merely stating the obvious; this was as public waiting room, and if the woman wanted quiet in which to pray, there were other rooms more appropriate for the task.

  “No, it is a realistic reaction to someone who expects everyone in the room to tiptoe around their spirituality.” Jessie returned. “If strangers were here waiting for their loved one to survive emergency surgery would you shush them and ask them not discuss their situation because you were ‘praying’? Your attitude is disrespectful to the rest of us. As I said, they do have a chapel here, a place designated for quiet and prayer. This room is for family to gather as they wait for news of their loved ones.”

  “Hey, girls, Lex brought us food.” Jack interrupted, clearly not comfortable with his sister’s debate.

  “I’m fasting.” Michelle said severely. She glanced with irritation at the plate on the dinette table, as if the evil Lex deliberately brought the food here to tempt her.

  “Well, I’m not.” Jack returned, seeming to lean toward his twin in this tension filled conversation. “Thanks, dude.” He nodded to Lex and scarfed up another half of bagel.

  “Michelle. Chill, would you. We flew in from L.A. in the middle of the night to be here.” Jessie sighed, and turned her back on her sister.

  Lex could see the anger seething in Jessie’s lovely green eyes. It was palpable, and so rare an occurrence he didn’t believe he ever remembered seeing her quite so white hot before this. He placed his hand on her back consolingly, just above her butt. “Eat something, sweetheart.” He whispered, trying to soothe her.

  She grabbed the other half of the bagel from the plate and lifted it to her lips. As she munched off a small piece, she closed her eyes. He could see the moisture seeping from them. She was tense, angry, afraid for her dad and exasperated with her sister’s religious posturing. They hadn’t slept all night and the uncertainty regarding her father’s outcome had to be taking its toll on Jessie.

  Lex shot a quick glance in the direction of the old sister. That one was fuming, obviously feeling as if she’d been persecuted for her religious fervor instead of realizing that she was making everyone else uncomfortable with her holier than thou attitude.

  “I’m not leaving here.” Michelle said, almost daring Jessie to throw her out.

  “Your choice.” Jessie returned, still keeping her back to her sister, and still trying to contain her tears. “We’re a family, and we’re all here waiting for Dad to pull through surgery.”

  “Yeah. Me and my bro here are going downstairs for a smoke break.” Jack agreed, joining Steve at the door. “I’ve got my cell, text me if you hear anything.”

  Jack and Steve left the room. Their footsteps could be heard on the tile flooring as they walked to the elevator. Moments later, the familiar ding of the elevator signaled their departure.

  Jessie sank down at the table, her back to her sister. Lex eased into the chair opposite her, facing the surly woman, but focusing on Jessie and her welfare. “Drink some juice. Oh, here, I almost forgot.” He pulled a cylinder of her favorite coffee beverage from his jean pocket and set it on the table. Starbucks Mocha Frappuccino. “They had these in the cafeteria. I thought that might cheer you.” He pulled the cap for Jessie and slid the brown cylindrical can across the table.

  “They aren’t family.” Michelle muttered from across the room as she sat down on the sofa and crossed her arms over her knees. “You shouldn’t have brought them here. Steve and Mr. Coltrane are not family. The nurse told me only family was allowed in here.”

  Jessie stopped drinking her coffee beverage. She set the can down on the table with a look of decisiveness as she wiped her lips with the back of her hand. She turned in her seat to face her sister. “God, you sound just like our mother! Stirring up the tension, sowing seeds of discord. Can’t resist, can you. Steve and Lex are my family. My family. Got it? As far as you and I are concerned, we quit being family a long time ago.”

  “How dare you!” Michelle shot up out of her seat, her face growing bright red with fury. “You choose a Satanist over me, your own sister--you bring him here and refuse to let me pray for our dad’s soul--”

  Jessie stood, too, her face coloring. Lex rose. He was about to speak, to correct the sister’s misconception, but Jessie spoke first.

  “Oh, you just couldn’t resist making a drama out of this, could you? This is so mom. You are Marcie’s daughter, aren’t you? First, get a clue; Lex is not into devil worship. Stop spreading that crap around. That’s your interpretation of any belief system that doesn’t align with yours. He meditates and does yoga--big deal. And secondly, why are you so dead set upon letting Mom walk for nearly killing our Dad? She’s dangerous, she tried to kill our father and herself. That’s a little too nuts for my liking, a little too crazy to be allowed to walk around free as the breeze.”

  “Honor thy father and thy mother, so it will go well with you.”

  “Yep, I got me one of those cool philosophical mottos, too; Live Long and Prosper.” Jessie made the classic Spock salute at her sister with a shaking hand as she spoke through white lips. “Stop bringing your religion into everything. Mom has been leading up to this for years. Be thankful it wasn’t one of your kids she shot. Covering up her mental illness is not going to help her or any of us.”

  As a verbal blow, it packed a powerful wallop. Lex bit the inside of his lip, trying not to say something as the two women stood staring each other down with tears brimming over their eyes. Michelle sank down on the sofa again, the epitome of defeat. She nodded slowly, as if just realizing the truth of Jessie’s words.

  And then, the wailing started, as Michelle broke down into anguished sobs.

  Lex was uncomfortable. He expected Jessie to go to her sister’s side and offer comfort. She didn’t. She just sat back down again at the table, her eyes glassy, liquid as she stared into space. She stuffed her hands into the pouch in the front of her sweatshirt, looking as broken and distraught in her stoic, silent pose as the woman across the room with her emotional wailing and sobbing.

  Unable
to stand it, Lex moved toward the weeping woman. He sat down on the coffee table before her and placed a light hand on her arm. She had her face covered with her hands, but peered between her fingers momentarily to see who was nearby.

  “Oh-she’s right--it could have been--hiccup--could have been--Davey or Jeremy!”

  “But it wasn’t.” Lex said firmly. “Your boys are safe.” He looked askance at Jessie, hoping for direction. Jessie was crying now. Softly, almost without a sound, a sharp contrast to the highly emotionally display of the woman beside him.

  “I-I-I---oh.” Michelle sniffled and tried to contain her frazzled emotions. “I l-leave them with Mom a lot--some--sometimes they spend the night there.” The last two words raised a couple of octaves as the poor woman realized her children could have been at the scene last night when their grandmother shot their grandfather.

  Lex grimaced. With great uncertainty and hesitation, he put his other arm around the poor woman. At his tentative embrace, she leaned into him like a child and started weeping against his shoulder; great, shaking loud sobs that were horrifying to endure.

  “Oh, my!” Another female voice intruded upon the scene. A slender, petite blonde woman in her fifties. “Oh, Jessie, Michelle--is he gone?”

  “Aunt Rachel.” Jessie stood up and went into her aunt’s opened arms. “No, no, Michelle was just realizing how bad it might have been if her boys were at the house last night.”

  “Yes, it would have been very traumatic for those boys to witness such a scene.” The older woman held Jessie’s eyes, almost as if they had some secret between them. She nodded to Jessie, an imperceptible salute. She released her hold on Jessie and hurried across the room to where Michelle was weeping against Lex’s shoulder.

  The older woman sat on the sofa beside Michelle, opposite Lex, who sat on the coffee table. She put her arm around her niece. Michelle leaned into her for comfort. “Yes, yes, Michelle, my dear, it is fortunate the boys weren’t at your mother’s house last night. She’s in police custody now. She can’t hurt herself or anyone else. And now it’s up to us to make certain your mother gets the help she so desperately needs.”

  Chapter Twenty Five

  Jack Kelly, Senior, did not survive the surgery. His leukemia caused a complication; blood thinners in his system made it impossible for the doctors to stop the bleeding as they struggled to repair the damage to his left lung.

  The news came shortly after Michelle’s epiphany about the danger her sons could have been in. Jack and Steve had just returned from their walkabout when the doctor came into the room to deliver the news of their father’s death. Jessie and Jack hugged each other. Michelle clung to their aunt. After a few moments of silence, Jack and Jessie moved as one to comfort the sister who had previously snapped at them.

  Steve stood in the doorway, his head hanging, his expression grim.

  Aunt Rachel came to stand by Lex. Not knowing who to speak with as his patient’s children held each other and wept, the doctor turned to Lex and Rachel.

  “I’ve notified the police of Mr. Kelly’s death. I’m told the wife involved in the shooting is mentally unstable and is being held in custody. She’ll face the judge for involuntary manslaughter. If it is determined she needs psychiatric treatment they will transport her to a state mental hospital in the coming days. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  The funeral was three days later. Jack, Jessie and Michelle stood by their father’s casket as the minister spoke over it in the old, Victorian cemetery. Their mother was not present. She had been transported to the state psychiatric hospital, but even if it had been possible for her to attend, Lex doubted her children would have allowed it.

  Cars lined the one lane road, making egress impossible. The limousine Lex had rented for the occasion was pulled close to the grave site so they could dodge the lurking paparazzi nearby. It was a tragedy. A horrible family tragedy, yet the media were quick to move in as celebrities were involved. Lex flew Rolly Gibson, the private investigator, in from L.A. to talk with the attorneys handling the case for Jessie and her siblings. Rolly had uncovered a lot of evidence earlier showing that Mrs. Kelly had a long history of mental illness and had been in and out of hospitals numerous times over the years.

  When the twins were children, there were whispers of suspected abuse but nothing could be proved by the school counselors to substantiate a case against their mother. No one in the family would speak up, from their maternal grandmother to Aunt Rachel and certainly not Mr. Kelly himself. Jack and Jessie suffered continual verbal and emotional abuse but they slipped through the cracks in the system because their father was determined to keep his wife’s mental illness a family secret. When the school counselors inquired about the situation at home during their middle school years, time and again Mr. Kelly covered up with claims of misunderstandings and exaggerations on the part of his children. With no hope of escape, Jack and Jessie ran away at the age of sixteen. Their father and mother didn’t report them missing to the authorities. Oddly, the father claimed they went to live with relatives in another state, and no one followed up.

  Rolly had unearthed a goldmine, lost bits and pieces that taken alone seemed benign, speculation at best, but when pieced together formed an unmistakably ugly picture of both physical and emotional abuse. In their younger years there were reports of black eyes, broken wrists or arms, and continual bruises that were explained away as bicycle accidents and so forth.

  As the twins grew older, the physical evidence disappeared, but their school reports had notes on conversations with counselors that were clearly pleas for help. At last, Lex understood why Jessie and Jack ran away from home as teens. He understood why Jessie was still running from any emotional commitment that reminded her of her mother’s schizophrenic embrace. She was afraid of being deeply hurt and rejected by others as she had been by her mother as a child. And by her parents recently when they couldn’t reconcile themselves to her upcoming nuptials with a man they despised.

  Lex stood by the limo, his shades in place, his black suit making him feel like a member of the mafia as the bodyguards he hired to protect Jack and Jessie from hometown fans and groupies stood beside him. The ceremony was nearly concluded.

  After the ceremony, the twins were going to the state hospital in the next county to say goodbye to their mother, and then Lex was taking them back to L.A. They had a 90 minute drive to St. Paul to the nearest airport, and their flight would leave at 10 p.m.

  He made certain the lawyer prosecuting Mrs. Kelly for the accidental shooting of her husband had all the information Rolly uncovered about the Kelly family during his investigation. Aunt Rachel, when presented with the stacks of evidence, had seemed ashamed for her part. It wasn’t deliberate, Lex knew that. It was a crime of omission rather than a crime of passion. She loved her younger sister, and her own mother and her sister’s husband had made it difficult for Rachel Johnson to speak out. Instead, she tried to be there when Mr. Kelly was on the road, and had by her own admission gone to the Kelly house in the middle of the night many times to bring the children safely to her home and away from Mrs. Kelly when her mania was at its worst.

  Aunt Rachel was a kind, loving person. Lex could see that in the days that passed before the funeral. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a slow simmering of anger toward her for not speaking out when Jessie and Jack were children. True, they might have gone into foster care, and the family would have fallen apart. Was that any worse than living in the hell they had, with an absent father who was on the road 5 days out of seven and a mentally ill mother as their primary caretaker. He was angry and sad.

  As the funeral service ended, the woman in question, Aunt Rachel, hugged her charges, and spoke to them quietly. Lex moved in, determined to whisk Jessie away from the family. He reached Jessie’s side, the bodyguards flanking him. Yeah, it felt like an episode of The Sopranos to him. Any moment, Tony would show up.

  Jessie extracted herself from her aunt’s embrace as Lex joined them. He came to h
er side, and placed his hand on her elbow.

  “We should go.” He whispered. “We have a long ride ahead.”

  “Oh, you must stay for dinner.” Aunt Rachel insisted. A tall, gaunt man beside her nodded in unison. Uncle Dave. Lex thought the man looked like a corpse. He’d make a good zombie.

  “We can’t.” Jack placed his arm about Jessie’s shoulder, leaning in with familiarity on her left side as Lex flanked her right. “We’re off again. Schedules to keep, Aunt Rachel. We missed a whole week and we still have to finish the MTV shoot. We’re under contract. Just like a CEO, we have to go back to the office.”

  * * *

  Jessie leaned in to embrace her brother. Jack was right, and like her, he wanted nothing more than to get out of town and away from the cloying sweetness of Aunt Rachel and the somber grief of their sister, Michelle. The only reason they had to return home after eight and half years absence had just been buried. It wasn’t like Kansas. They couldn’t go back home again and find Auntie Em and the gang waiting for them.

  “Jack is right, Aunt Rachel. We’re on a tight schedule that’s been interrupted too many times as it is.” Jessie leaned in to hug her aunt. “We’ll be in touch. I promise.”

  “Lex, it was a pleasure to meet you.” Aunt Rachel demurred, stepping up to him to give him a hug. He leaned down to hug the small, slender woman who on this day was looking every day of her fifty-six years. Uncle Dave stood behind her and when Lex released her aunt, her uncle stepped in to shake her fiancé’s hand with more vigor than Jessie thought him capable of possessing.

  At last, they were in the limo, driving away from the crowd of people dressed like black crows gathered at the old cemetery to help them bury their dad. They managed to get to the limo without the press moving in, although there were plenty of camera clicks and flashes as they hurried to the car.

  “Are we going to the hotel to change?” Jack asked, leaning forward to shrug out of his dress jacket. Steve was in the corner of the car, nursing a cigarette in one hand and a bottle of beer in another. “Hey, gimme that!” Jack took possession of the beer and tossed his head back.