by Sarah Cole
“Leni.” Charlie says, and her face is pale.
“What?”
“You don’t think he… you know…?” she gestures to my body, and I go cold.
“Oh my God! I don’t know!!! Oh, no!!!” I cry.
She rushes to hug my upper body. “It’s OK, Len. We will figure it out, I swear. I believe you, but my God he tried to kill you! This is seriously messed up. We need to tell someone so they can check for drugs and run some… some more tests.” She finishes, a disturbed look on her face.
“Charlie?”
“Yeah, girl?”
“Jay’s gone, isn’t he?” I ask, but I feel like I already know the answer. I know him well enough to know that if he was here, he would be in this room right now. My heart aches for him, and it hurts.
Her face falls a bit at my question. “Yeah, he’s gone.”
“He’s not coming back is he?”
“No. Not for a while at least, but you have to know that has absolutely nothing to do with this or with you. He loves you Leni, but he needs to figure out how to move on from Abby before he can be with someone completely. I know you understand.” She says, and I nod because I do understand, and that is the suckiest part. I’m hurting, and I can’t even be angry at him because I know he is hurting too.
“I don’t know if this will help or hurt the situation, or if I should even divulge this, but he was here. He was with you the whole time until a couple hours ago. When we found you, Leni… I’ve never seen him like that. Not even about Abby.” She sniffles. “He isn’t leaving you. He’s just trying to do what’s best for everyone.” She says, and I know she’s right, but even so I don’t know what is going to fill this empty, aching hole in my chest.
Chapter 18
TWO WEEKS LATER…
Jay:
I zip my jacket up a little tighter as I stare out at the Norwegian Sea, soaking up my last night in Iceland. I’ve always wanted to come here since reading about it on one of my college buddies’ travel blogs. Tomorrow, I snap back into the reality of my world with our concert in Amsterdam. The truth is I don’t miss it… the hectic schedules, the prying eyes, the drama, the media. What I miss is the feeling of the bass line flowing through my chest when Brendon let’s lose, I miss the music, my friends, Charlie, and most of all, Leni.
Charlie messaged me a few hours after I left Chicago, explaining the situation, and I can’t even begin to describe the feeling of knowing Leni didn’t do that to herself. Relief mainly, but that was quickly replaced by murderous thoughts about Cash Noland. Charlie assured me that they were handling it, and working with the police, and that is the only thing that stopped me from turning around and strangling him to death with my bare hands. But I swear on everything that is holy, if I ever see him again, I will end him. I’ve never wanted to actually kill someone until now. Now, I’d do it with a smile on my face.
Charlie and I are in touch every single day… mainly so she can nag, or so I can video chat with Fallon, or it may or may not be because I basically need live feed updates on Leni. I can’t say that I’m where I need to be, but I can say with certainty that I’m leagues ahead of where I began two weeks ago. I suppose that being alone with nothing but your thoughts to distract you helps. It has forced me to face the things I would push away before.
I finally let myself grieve the way I should have before, unapologetically. For my wife to be, for my unborn son or daughter. I cried, and then suddenly it was like a weight was lifted and I could breathe again. I let myself admit that Abby was gone, and while what we had was beautiful and real, it wasn’t forever. Something Leni said in one of our very first conversations, plays on repeat in my head, and I’m just know letting it sink in in a very real way, ‘Not everyone is going to stay with you forever, and as much as it hurts when you part ways, you have to keep moving ahead and just thank them for being a part of your life and for loving you, even if it was for just a short time.”’
I loved Abby with all of my soul, and I always will, but I can’t keep waiting for a ghost. Life happens while you’re asleep and I’ve been sleep walking for three years. It’s time I let go. The next step is letting myself love without fear. I’m in love with Leni, but I’m terrified of losing her. How do you hand yourself over completely -willingly knowing there’s a very real possibility that every conversation, touch, kiss, or fight might be your very last? I still don’t have the answers to those questions, and until I do, I will stay away…for both of us.
The sun is starting to set, and as the wind picks up I reach into my pocket, my fingers grazing the familiar, worn edges of baby Collins’s very first, and last ultrasound. In my mind, it seems so wrong to do what I’m about to do, but in my heart, I know it’s right for me, at least. I unfold the heavily creased paper and stare at the gummy bear shaped baby that I know by heart one last time…
“I love you.” I whisper as I place a kiss to the worn image in my hand. I’m talking to them both; the precious baby that never was, and the beautiful woman that helped me create him or her. I take the lighter I’m carrying in my pocket and hold it to the edge of the photo. The edges curl under the heat of the flame before igniting and disintegrating before my eyes, and in its ashes, a new perspective will be born.
I stand at the water’s edge for a moment longer, until the gusts of wind pick up, and scatter the ashes of my past into the evening sky before I let myself walk back to my cabin and turn in for the night.
As I’m lying in bed, staring at the empty, cold space next to me, my mind drifts to Leni, as it always does. I pull out my phone, scrolling through the countless pictures of Leni and the memories that come with them. I picture her smile and laugh, her pink hair messy on the pillow next to me, the way she and Charlie antagonize me to no end, how much I miss her and crave her…I’m dying for just the sound of her voice, but since I know I can’t pick up the phone yet, I write.
I write her everything I can’t tell her right now, but maybe one day, I’ll be able to tell her in person.
I always think of you as I’m falling asleep. Your face is the last thing I see every night when I close my eyes. I let myself remember everything about you. The way you smell, the way you feel as your body snuggles up against mine, the silent moments that we share where only we exist… everything. Because you are my everything. And when I finally let myself go and dream, I know it will be about you because you are the only one that can pull me from my nightmares, the only one that can pull me from the darkness of my own mind.
Leni:
My phone rings, another Seattle number, but I know it isn’t work – ignore. Random numbers have been calling me daily over the past few weeks, but per the usual if it has anything to do with home, I ignore. I’ll call back if they leave a message, but they never do. I swipe my finger across the screen and return to the standoff I’m having with the zipper on my suitcase. It’s packed so full, I have to climb on top, using the weight of my body to close it enough to zip.
“I really wish you’d reconsider.” Charlie says leaning up against the door frame in her yoga gear as Fallon runs down the hall shrieking.
After what happened with Cash, and me being in the hospital for a few days, Andrew and Charlie insisted that I take up residence in one of their guest rooms until I was well again. I can’t say that it hasn’t been a blast to be a part of their family for the past few weeks, but I know I can’t stay. Not because they haven’t asked countless times, but because they aren’t my family. They are Jay’s.
“I know, but this is something I have to do. I have my job, my condo…” Well actually that’s about all I have waiting for me in Seattle, but it sounds so pathetic that I’m not about to admit that out loud.
“I know, but Leni, I worry. I’m a worrier, and I’m also selfish. I want you to stay because you’ve become a part of our family. Also, I’m growing by the day here and I desperately need an assistant, especially when I pop out this little nugget.” She says with a pout patting her ever- growing belly.
“I’m sorry, but I promise I will keep in touch. And I promise I’ll visit you guys!” I hop of the suitcase, and cross the room to pull my friend into a tight hug. I really am going to miss her.
***
Andrew pulls the SUV up in front of the unloading zone at the airport and hops out to grab my bags from the back. I place a kiss on Fallon’s chunky cheek as she sleeps in her car seat, and my heart constricts as I open my door to say my good byes. Leaving them is one of the hardest decisions I’ve had to make in my adult life, and that is saying a lot.
“Take care of yourself, Leni, and remember we’re always here, and you always have a place in our home.” Andrew says before he pulls me in for a hug. The guy is huge, and it feels like I’m hugging a wall. I break free of his embrace and turn to Charlie who’s crying. Again. Her hormones are insane.
“The offer still stands, and will indefinitely. If you want to come home, you just say the word, and we’ll make it happen.” Charlie sniffles, and her words mean more to me than she knows.
Home. She’s right. This is home for me, and not because of the place, but the people. They are my people too, and in such a short amount of time, each one of them has come to mean more to me than anything has before. Each one of these people, whether big or small, has given me something back, something to hold onto even now when my heart is broken over Jay. They’ve given me strength. They’ve shown me friendship, and real love. They’ve shown me that even though life isn’t pretty, there is always a reason to keep on fighting, and that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to fight for me.
***
This condo that I used to call my own now seems so foreign to me. Everything I carefully selected for my new life, still sits here, perfectly arranged, barely used. The dove gray velvet sofa, the brass and marble accented tables… while so pretty, they hold little warmth or meaning without someone to share them with. I laugh at myself because now I’m drawing parallels between my furniture and my life, but it’s the truth. It just feels so empty and superficial.
I carefully pull on my blazer jacket so as not to disrupt the bandages that still cover the new wounds that mix with my old. I’ve been home for a week, and it’s my first day back in the office. Honestly I’m terrified because I know the rumor has spread about what happened in Chicago, or rather what they think happened. Everyone thinks I’m crazy and that I tried to kill myself at work. Everyone thinks that the concert was cancelled halfway through because of me, and I guess in certain ways, it was, but it’s not like I did this on purpose. I don’t want to face everyone, but like I’ve done so many times before, I’ll confront it head on and come out stronger on the other side.
I’m just sliding into my heels when there’s a sharp knock on my door. What the heck? I stand on my tippy toes to look out the glass window at the top of my door, and my pulse goes into overdrive as I open the door, now knowing who stands behind it.
“Uncle Lance, what are you doing here?” I ask.
“Well nice to see you too, Lennon. I would have made arrangements with you if you had answered one of my many calls. May I come in?” he asks calmly, his hands folded in front of him. I see his body guard hovering at the bottom of the steps, and my skin crawls. I remember him from my teenage years, and how he used to look at me.
“You may, but not him.” I nod towards his goon.
“Robert, wait in the car please.” Lance says, and immediately Robert turns back towards the black, luxury sedan waiting out front.
I step aside and my uncle crosses the threshold and finds his way into my living room. He looks very much the same as he used to, but with just the slightest hints of his age, smooth, lightly tanned skin, sharp nose and a thick head of hair that is now heavily shaded with gray, and those same steel gray eyes. The ones he shared with my mother and myself, but that is where the similarities end. Where hers were always warm and bright, Lances are ruthless and calculating.
“You’ve grown up, put on some weight, but I must say I prefer your natural color of hair over that horrendous shade. You look like an Easter Egg.” His distaste apparent.
“While I appreciate your candor, I don’t find it entirely necessary. Why are you here?” I reply.
“Oh! And she learned how to bite back.” He said, clearly amused with my response.
“I’ve learned a lot of things.”
“I see that, given our most recent interaction.”
I give him a hard stare, “I think you owed me one.”
“My dear, I don’t owe you a damn thing. However, I do have a question for you, Lennon, and I’m only going to ask you once.” He says, and positions himself on my sofa.
“Sure, have a seat. Stay awhile.” I say sarcastically.
“I will stay as long as I need to, in order to get to the bottom of this situation.”
“In that case, please ask your question so we can be done here.”
“I want you to think hard before you answer this question. Where did you get the drugs, you returned to me?”
Wait. Returned?
“Yes, Lennon, returned. How did they come into your possession?”
Oops, said that out loud. “We found them.”
“Found?” he eyes me with cool skepticism. His face a complete mask, not betraying anything other than he doesn’t know if he should believe me.
“Explain.”
“OK, I’ll just start from the top here.”
“I think that is for the best.” He nods, his jaw ticking as he clenches it. I can tell his patience is wearing thin, and I know he is five seconds away from calling me something offensive. Wouldn’t be the first time.
“As I’m sure you already know, because I know how you are, I’ve been working on a music tour all summer for Voltage Records. We had to bump one of the bands ahead of the other due to ratings, numbers, and a few other varying factors.”
“You’re referring to Bleeding Vengeance?” he interrupts.
“Yes, but I’m sure you already knew that, too. Anyways, within a matter of hours, shady things started happening to the new headlining band. I mean everything from injuries to falsified sexual assault charges, etcetera. We were in Colorado, and Jay, the lead singer of Fading to Light discovered a bag stashed somewhere on their bus.”
“And you’re positive it didn’t belong to Mr. Collins? He does have a prior history with substances.” He asks. Jesus, how does he get all this information?
“I’m one hundred percent certain he is clean.” I say without hesitation because I realize I trust Jay with everything. He has always been up front and honest with me, even though it was painful for both of us. He never lied to me, not once.
“We didn’t know what to do with them, but we assume that either Warren Pearce, BV’s manager, or one of the band members somehow planted them. I called you and then decided to search some more and found two more similar bags. We did the exchange, then later that night the police showed up.”
“Were any of you questioned?” he asks, and I shake my head.
“They didn’t find anything so there wasn’t anything they could technically ask, but after that happened we were nearly one hundred percent it was one of the BV guys because of offhand comments that had been made, but we couldn’t prove anything. Still can’t.”
“I see. And does this situation have anything to do with your recent hospitalization?”
“Yes.”
“Alright, thank you.” he says, as he stands abruptly. He is already to the door, when I realize he is just going to leave.
“Wait!”
“Yes, Lennon?” he sighs as if he is completely put out.
“Is that it? Why did you ask all that? I think I at least have the right to know why you showed up here asking. I almost died because of all of this shit!”
He pinches the bridge of his nose, and I can see he’s struggling on whether he should continue being a complete prick or actually pretend to be decent for once.
“Do not repeat this.”
“You returned something that was stolen from me. I had suspected a particular individual played a part in it, but I wanted to be sure there were no other variables before I took action. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“I think so.” I say, because I do know what he means.
“OK. Take care of yourself, myshka.” He says, resting his hand on my shoulder gently, before shutting the door behind him. I’m so stunned by the Russian term of endearment my mother used to use with me when I was small, that I don’t respond.
I watch him climb into the sedan and drive away, and somehow, I know deep down, that will be the last time I see Lance Jennings.
***
I am more than an hour late when I finally arrive at the record company. I try to quietly make my way to my office, avoiding the blatant stares directed my way. When I get to my office, I catch a glimpse through the window of someone sitting behind my desk. I open the door, and interrupt the man’s typing.
“I’m sorry, can I help you?” he asks, looking up at me from behind is thick rimmed black glasses, his curly hair disheveled.
I tilt my head back and sure enough my name plate is no longer on the door. They must have moved me.
“I’m sorry, just a mix- up.” I say, backing up, through the door.
“Lennon?” Gordon asks at my back.
“Oh, hi Gordon!” I spin around to greet him. “I’m sorry I was late. Something unexpected came up first thing this morning, and I didn’t have a chance to call. Where’d you guys move me to?” I ask.
His brow furrows for a moment before he responds, “Let’s go talk in my office for a minute, hun.” He says, and I feel hot and prickly like I am a kid getting in trouble at school.