by Karen Cimms
She sank onto a stool behind her. “I didn’t get any message.”
“Well, I’m sorry about that, but I sent it.” Sounding more awake, he lowered his voice. “Jesus, Mom. Get a grip, will you?”
His anger and frustration surprised her. Her cell phone beeped. The message, sent before midnight, flashed across the screen: “Had a couple drinks. Staying overnight. Better safe than sorry. Leave the dishes, I’ll do them when I get home.”
Oh God.
“I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I see it now. I just got scared when I didn’t see the truck—”
“Whatever. I’ll see you later.” He hung up before she could say anything else.
Kate was standing at the sink, scrubbing dried food from pots and pans that would have done well with an overnight soak, when Billy came up behind her. He slipped his arms around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. She stiffened.
“How are you feeling this morning?”
Steam curled around her, and she scrubbed harder, her entire body vibrating from the effort. “Good.”
She’d tried to hold it in, tried to lose herself in greasy roasting pans and dishes caked with crusty mashed potatoes and pumpkin pie, but on that single word her voice broke.
“Oh, Katie. What’s wrong?” He turned off the water and pressed a dish towel into her hands, then guided her to a chair in the dining room. Through tears, she told him about her conversation with Devin. Then she rehashed the fight with Rhiannon. Any other time, either event would have done little more than annoy her. Given everything else, they overwhelmed her.
“That’s enough.” He tipped her chin and made her look at him. “I want you to see a doctor. You can’t keep suffering like this.”
Not this again! “How many times do I have to tell you no? I don’t want to. It’s not gonna help. Why can’t you see that?” She dropped her head into her hands, but jumped when his fist came crashing into the table. The stack of clean plates shivered dangerously.
“Bull shit! You’re going to see a goddamn shrink.”
She started to protest, but he cut her off.
“That’s it. No more wallowing. No more excuses. You’re getting help.”
Spit flew from his mouth, and he jabbed his finger in her face. “I mean it!”
He took a step back and folded his arms over his chest. Billy was stubborn and demanding, and he was used to getting his own way, but not this time. He had no right to tell her what to do, and there was no way in hell she was going to sit on some stranger’s couch and relive the worst year of her life. No. Fucking. Way.
When it seemed he’d finally calmed down, he reached for her and ran his hands along her arms until he captured her wrists. Then he lowered his face until she had no choice but to look at him. This time when he spoke, his words were softer, almost desperate.
“I can’t bear the thought of losing you, Katie, especially when you’re standing right here in front of me.”
It wasn’t funny, but she almost laughed.
He just didn’t get it. It was too late. She was already gone.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Kate sat at the dining room table while Billy called Dr. Mueller, the psychiatrist their family doctor had recommended back in September. The office was closed, but he left a message with the service saying it was an emergency.
“It’s not an emergency,” she said after he hung up.
“Yes, it is.”
She poked at the scrambled eggs he’d insisted on making her. He was treating her like a child, and she didn’t like it. She didn’t want to see a doctor, and she didn’t want to take medicine that clouded her mind. It would just push her feelings below the surface where they would churn and bubble, then spring back when she least expected it.
She swirled her fork through a puddle of ketchup.
“Eat.”
“I’m not hungry. I’m having a hard time swallowing.”
“Because you never eat!” he shouted. He held up his palms. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to yell, but you’ve got me so fucking frustrated I don’t know what else to do. I’m not going to stand by and watch you shrivel up and blow away.”
“I’m fine.”
“Jesus, Katie! You’re not fine!”
She set her fork down and folded her arms. Would he make her sit at the table until she finished? Wouldn’t surprise her. He was treating her like a child.
“I’m sorry.” He spoke more softly, although still through clenched teeth. “I’m just worried.”
She didn’t answer. And while she didn’t look up, she could feel his eyes on her. She shifted just enough to turn her back to him and focused on a pine tree outside the window.
He sighed loudly. “I’m gonna take a shower. If the phone rings, answer it, and if it’s the doctor’s office, take the earliest appointment. I’ll go with you.”
Yeah, right.
She waited until she heard the bedroom door close, then she scraped her uneaten eggs into the trash. She wasn’t going to sit around and wait for the phone to ring. Especially since she had no intention of seeing any doctor.
What she needed was to keep busy, that’s all. Devin should be home soon. She would send him and Billy to the tree farm to pick up wreaths for the front windows. Thanksgiving had been such a huge fucking success, she couldn’t wait to see what Christmas would bring.
Climbing into the attic terrified Kate, yet there she was, balanced at the top of the pull-down ladder, trying to hoist herself up through the opening. The muscles in her arms shivered under the strain, and the little bit of breakfast she’d choked down earlier threatened to come back up.
She never went into the attic. Ever. Heights frightened her, and the steep ladder was unnerving. And she was convinced there were bats up there. She could have waited for Billy to finish his shower, but what if the phone rang? He’d expect her to answer it, and that wasn’t happening. If she was up in the attic and missed the call, so be it. At least this way she would have a legitimate excuse as to why she couldn’t answer. Then hopefully, he’d forget about her seeing any doctor.
With a loud oomph, she pulled herself up. There was enough room to stand, but she stayed low, crawling on her hands and knees. Any resident bats would probably be hibernating, but with her luck, one would fly into her hair and she’d end up falling through the opening in the ceiling. With frequent glances into the rafters above her, she searched for the box that held the red tartan ribbons for the Christmas wreaths.
The attic was small. Boxes were wedged tightly against each other. It seemed Billy had organized it into some kind of system. There were several large red and green plastic containers in the far corner. Crawling as quickly and quietly as she could, she skittered across the attic, only to catch her sweater on a shoebox, dumping it over.
“Damn it.”
Dozens of identical slips of paper littered the floor. It was difficult to see exactly what they were in the low light, but they looked like checks.
Billy had always been so infuriatingly secretive when it came to their finances. Any other time, she would have been wildly curious, but for now, all she wanted was to get the damn ribbons and get out of the attic. She began scooping up the checks. At first she dumped them into the box, but knowing Billy, there had probably been some kind of order to them. She pulled out a handful. Maybe by date. She could probably gather them by month, at least.
She picked up one and held it to the sliver of light coming from the hallway below. March 15, 2009. She picked up another. December 15, 1997. February 15, 2002. June 15, 2006.
None were from the same month. She reached for a few more: July 15, 1998. April 15, 2004. May 15, 2004.
“What the hell?”
Some amounts were the same. Five hundred. Eight hundred. A thousand.
She dropped onto her bottom. There were at least two hundred canceled checks, some going as far back as 1991, all made out on the fifteenth of the month and all to the same woman: Jessie Jones.
&n
bsp; A slow, sick feeling worked its way into her belly. She pawed through more of the checks: October 15, 2011. May 15, 2006. January 15, 2012. This year. Fifteen hundred dollars.
The contents of her stomach rose, and bile burned her throat. She swallowed it down.
Jessie Jones. The name wasn’t familiar, but why would it be? If Billy had gone through the trouble of hiding these checks in the one place he knew Kate would never find them, it was because he’d never wanted her to see them.
She thought of how many times he’d swore to her that what had happened with Christa was a one-time thing. Maybe it was. But here was proof that whatever had happened with Jessie Jones had lasted more than one night.
Kate shoved the rest of the cancelled checks back into the box and shut the lid. Then she took a deep breath.
If someone had asked her this morning if it were possible for her heart to be any more broken than it already was, she would have said no, definitely not.
And she would have been wrong.
Eileen’s car started on the first try. Too bad the gas gauge was empty. Worse, she was a couple of miles out of town before she noticed. Billy had still been in the shower when she’d grabbed her jacket and rushed out the back door. She hadn’t thought to grab her purse. With no money and no driver’s license, she wouldn’t get far.
Not that she had a clue where she was going anyway.
She pulled over at the first place she could—a small parking area for an Appalachian Trail access point. A Subaru with Maine plates was the only other car in the lot. Ironic. She and Joey had hiked this trail as teenagers. They had also both loved Maine. If she believed in such things, which she didn’t, she might be tempted to think he was trying to send her a message.
For someone who suffered tremors at the thought of walking into the grocery store these days, hiking up the side of a mountain alone was irrational. Had she been in her right mind, she would have returned home as soon as she realized her limits.
Clearly, she wasn’t in her right mind.
The ascent up the trail, normally a twenty-minute hike, took twice as long. She’d done nothing physical for months and it showed. Her main occupation had become sitting. Sitting and thinking. It was a terrible occupation.
When she reached the top, she saw that the view was as beautiful as she remembered, but it did little to lighten the heaviness in her heart. From atop the rocky outcropping, she could see the river snaking its way around a bend not far from the Delaware Water Gap. It was quiet. The sun shone brightly. With hardly a cloud in the sky, she could see for miles.
She dropped to the cold, hard ground and leaned against a boulder, trying to catch her breath.
She couldn’t do it anymore. None of it.
Losing Joey and then finding out Billy had been unfaithful with Christa should have been enough to destroy her, but she’d survived, only to bring devastation to all those other families.
And now this? He’d sworn the incident with Christa was the only time he’d ever been unfaithful. Granted, she hadn’t been willing to discuss it with him; she couldn’t. But he had sworn. And now? Having to face the possibility that Billy was supporting another woman somewhere, or a child? Clearly he was lying.
She’d known so many of Billy’s friends and bandmates who’d used sex as a power trip or a stress reliever or just because it was so readily available. Why had she ever thought they were above that? That they were somehow better? That they loved each other more?
“You’re such a fool, Kate.”
She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes and tried to erase the unwelcome images springing up like weeds. If she could reach inside her head to tear out her brain, she would.
“Stop! Stop, stop, stop!” She twisted her hands in her hair and pulled, screaming at the top of her lungs. As if that would make it go away. All it did was startle a red-tailed hawk from its perch beyond the clearing. It let out a high-pitched screech and soared out over the ridge before dropping out of sight.
She wanted to kick the ground and tear handfuls of her hair from her head, but even heartache required more energy than she could manage. She toppled over and curled up against the wide boulder, her face in the dirt, and cried.
When there were no tears left, and she echoed with the hollowness of her life, she rolled onto her back and blinked up at the sky.
She wasn’t supposed to be here. Sedge Stevens had been looking for her. Instead, he’d killed all those other people. Annoyed with Eileen, she’d taken refuge in the bathroom, and that had saved her life. It wasn’t fair. Of course she felt empty. Her entire life had been a mistake. Her parents hadn’t wanted her. She simply wasn’t supposed to be here.
She rolled onto her knees and stared into the horizon. She was so empty. If she stepped off the edge, she would be picked up by an air current, a dried leaf, tumbling and drifting until she crumbled, scattering in a million directions as she fell to the ground where she would spend eternity among the soft pine needles, moss, and detritus lining the forest floor.
It would be a more peaceful existence than the one she tried to endure each day.
She stood and brushed the dried leaves and twigs from her legs. She took several careful steps toward the edge and peered down the steep, rocky embankment. That’s what she would do. One final step and it would be over. It was perfect.
She just had to decide when.
And when she did, she would bring the pills, in case she chickened out. And the bottle of French wine she’d hidden away for a special occasion.
Because really, what was more special than dying?
Chapter Fifty-Four
The car door swung open as Kate pulled the keys from the ignition. Billy grabbed her arm and practically yanked her out of her seat.
“Where were you?” he yelled. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“I went for a ride.” She pushed against his chest. “Let go. You’re hurting me.”
He shook her before releasing her. “Hurting you? I’d put you over my knee if I thought it would do any good.”
She averted her eyes, and as she did, she noticed he wasn’t wearing any shoes or socks.
“You’re going to get sick,” she said as she walked past him toward the house.
He followed close behind.
“Where were you?” he asked again, only slightly calmer.
“I told you.” Unable to look at him, she gave Charlie a scratch behind the ears. “I went for a ride.”
He pulled something from her hair and held it up. “You don’t get covered with leaves from riding in a car.”
She ran a hand through her uncombed hair, picking out the remaining stragglers.
“I drove for a little while, and when I realized Eileen’s car was almost out of gas, I pulled over and took a walk.” She was tired of arguing, but she couldn’t help feeling defensive at getting the third degree. “I’m not a prisoner, you know.”
Billy took a deep breath and forced it out through clenched teeth. “The doctor’s office called. He’ll see you Monday morning.”
“He?” She shook her head. “No way. I’d rather a woman doctor.” Not that it mattered. She wasn’t going.
He wanted to strangle her, she could tell, but he was doing an admirable job keeping his temper in check. More or less.
“This is the psychiatrist Dr. Patterson recommended. This is who can see you Monday. This is who you’re going to see. Understand?”
“You’re not the boss of me!” Gah! That sounded childish even to her.
He threw his hands up in disgust. “What are you? Five? You’re acting like a child, so I guess I’m not surprised.”
“Maybe it’s just how you treat me.” She waved her hand. “No worries. I won’t be your problem much longer.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” The meter of his voice changed, and worry clouded his features.
“Nothing.” She shook her head and pushed past him. “I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m just not
myself these days.”
Billy cursed under his breath.
“What’s wrong?” his agent, C.J., asked. “I thought this is what you wanted.”
“It is,” he whispered into the phone. “It’s just . . . the timing isn’t good. Katie’s—”
“Look, Billy, it’s only three weeks, but it’s a big three weeks. The new songs are great, but we gotta road test them. You keep this up and I can guarantee you a record deal, but I have to get you out there. People need to hear you. There was a lot of buzz after that performance in Miami this summer, and to tell the truth, the arrest and all the rest of it didn’t hurt that angry rock star image, either. There’s no bad publicity, not for someone like you, but fans have short memories.”
“I know,” he agreed, “and God knows I need the money—”
“Look, it’s just three weeks. She can’t be without you for three freaking weeks?”
Could she? She was getting worse, there was no doubt about it. But if she started seeing the doctor, and if he could talk her into staying with Rhiannon . . .
“I don’t know. I guess. I’ll figure something out.”
C.J. was all business. “Okay, then. I’ll have a car pick you up first thing Monday to bring you straight to the airport. I’ll meet you there, and we’ll sign the contracts. Just leave everything to me.”
“Fine.”
“And Billy? I had to pull a lot of strings to get you on this leg of the tour. This is the perfect audience for you. Don’t screw this up. You’re not a cat. You don’t have nine lives, and even if you did, you’ve about run out.”
“Yeah, I get it. I’ll see you Monday.”
“That’s what I want to hear.”
Now for the fun part: convincing Kate to stay with Rhiannon, and convincing Rhiannon to get her mother to the doctor.
The timing sucked. People only got so many chances, and this was probably his last one. For the past several months, while trying to keep himself sane at Rhiannon’s, he’d been writing new songs. He’d even done some preliminary recordings. They were good. It was some of the best work he’d ever done. Not only that, but after his last altercation with Christa, it seems she’d finally stopped fucking with his career. Maybe he should’ve threatened to kill her years ago.