“I heard them fighting backstage—she and Alex.”
“I thought you said she and Airika had the fight,” Anya prodded.
“They did. It was about Alex,” he said, not looking up. Anya nodded, her fears confirmed. “Did she leave him?” He didn’t say anything.
After a long pause he said, “I think she just needs space. I hope it’s okay?”
“Thank you,” Anya said, placing her hand on his. She appreciated his concern and could see his reticence to leave. “Would you like to stay for dinner?” she asked. He nodded, grateful for the invitation.
Felicity was tasked with taking her mother upstairs to help her get ready for dinner. She set out some clothes that she found in the closet, and sat on the edge of the bed as Jenna put them on. Felicity knew something awful had happened but couldn’t imagine what. She felt like she was watching a sleepwalker to make sure she didn’t go out in traffic.
“Mom?”
“Mmm?” Jenna mumbled, struggling with the buttons on her shirt. She wondered why people bothered with buttons at all. What a waste of time. She tied the shirt in a knot above her belly button instead, exposing a strip of tan midriff, playing with the loose skin that never quite got back to pre-baby tightness no matter how many sit-ups she did.
“What happened?” Felicity was nothing if not blunt.
Jenna looked her straight in the eye and replied, with uncharacteristic restraint, “Nothing you need to worry about, Sweetheart. Your father and I had a fight. A big fight. And I need some time away to sort through things. Can you understand that?”
“I guess so … ” Felicity wasn’t sure how to proceed with this zombie mother. She expected a tirade of exaggerations and more information than any child ever wants to hear about their parents, only to be shoved in the middle, forced to take sides. This calm, cool, calculating individual was like the Alternate Universe Mom she used to think she wanted, but now wasn’t so sure. What could she say?
“Where will you go?” Felicity asked.
Jenna hadn’t thought that far in advance. She glanced around the room and saw a picture hanging up in the corner. It was a black and white photo of a pier in a lake. In small handwritten letters at the bottom of the matting, it read “North Beach, Lake Tahoe, by Jenna Jax, 1989.”
Jenna pointed to the photo and said, “There.”
Chapter 12
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Anya asked for the third time.
Dinner was a disaster, with Jenna drinking an entire bottle of red wine by herself, slurring incoherently at each person in turn. At one point, she turned to Anya, eyes narrowed, and said, “Y’wereright, Mom. I ended up jus’ like you. Go ahead. Say it. Toldyouso. Say it! Juss like you said. Better seenthan heard. ‘S all I’m good for. Look pretty. SAY IT!” She flung her glass around in front of her, eyes landing on Zach. “Do I look pretty to you?”
Anya watched, as though regarding an accident on the side of the freeway, and saved Zach from having to answer. Luckily Jenna passed out before dessert was served. Someone had the foresight to put a pitcher of water on her bedside table so that when she woke up, still drunk in the dark morning hours, she guzzled it and sat cataloguing every time she’d sacrificed something for either Airika or Alex. Every example she thought of, from the time she didn’t buy the Calvin Klein prom dress she wanted freshman year because Airika had to have it to giving up modeling to stay home with Felicity so Alex could pursue his dream of touring around the country with his punk-rock band (who frequently found themselves ejected from venues before they got paid), made her realize she’d only ever played the supporting role. She’d never been the star in her own life’s story. As she watched the pink glow of the sunrise, she made up her mind. No more stepping aside. Jenna felt certain for the first time in her life. She couldn’t explain the transformation, but instead of sinking into a pool of self-pity (as she’d expected to), she felt alive and awake. She looked outside where the trees glittered green, and the ocean’s blue saturated her core, connecting her to the world like never before.
Her life had flipped an illegal U-turn hurling her towards a new destination. Despite her still inebriated state, she couldn’t help but go over logistics in her head. Felicity should stay with her grandparents (her preference, Jenna was sure), and now that the two people she ran everything by were the same two she wouldn’t speak to again, she had no one left to answer to. Gone were the days of putting everyone else’s needs, wants, and desires ahead of her own. Maybe high school Jenna had it right after all.
Pulling away down the long gravel drive, Jenna watched her mother and daughter wave, their eyes welling. Technically, she couldn’t see their features from that distance, but she imagined they had tears in their eyes. She wished she could express to them how in control she felt. It was like she was a college student, leaving the nest for the first time, excited for the adventures awaiting her. As the house grew smaller and smaller in the distance, she knew it would never look the same as it did right now.
“Music?” Zach asked, handing her his iPod.
She smiled and put the iPod in the glove box. “Nope.”
“You’re the boss,” he said, turning onto highway 395. The vast desert spread before them, broken only by sharp purple peaks dipped in snow. They drove in comfortable silence, taking in the majestic views. Joshua trees turned to pine trees, and the desert gave way to winding mountain passes as they traversed the ancient landscape.
“How you feeling this morning?” Zach asked.
“Hung over.” Jenna looked over and had a vague flashback of telling him that all men are bastards when he said he needed to go back to his hotel. “I was awful to you last night, wasn’t I?”
“Nah. I’ve seen worse.” He smiled. “I’ve done worse too, without half the provocation.”
She nodded, grateful to let it go. They settled into an easy mix of silence and conversation, keeping things light. The next thing she knew, they were outside the vacation home her parents purchased with her father’s first big royalty check. It was a modest pale yellow cabin, set back from the street on the lake. The quintessential cozy mountain retreat, it still retained the original hardware and lovely built-ins.
She remembered it being bigger—the way adults often do, returning to places from their childhood. It was equally possible that it had been dwarfed by the mega-mansions flanking it on either side that sprung up since her last visit. Opening the door, she flipped on the light.
“Need help with your bags?” Zach asked.
“No, I’m okay. Thanks for the ride.” She said.
“No problem. It was on my way,” he smiled.
He stuffed his hands in his pockets to keep himself from helping her as she struggled up the two small steps to the door.
“Thank you, Zach. For everything.” She put her hand over his and pulled him into a hug. In his ear, she repeated it again, wishing she could say more. He was the only one who’d been there for her when she most needed it and she didn’t think she could ever thank him enough. He’d been so sweet to pack her bags for her when she couldn’t face going home to do it herself. Thankfully he’d been able to avoid an awkward run into Alex, who was already on his way to the next gig. He squeezed her hand, got back in his car and reversed down the driveway, tires crunching on frozen earth. She stood for a long minute outside, watching his headlights disappear from view, leaving only the yellow orange light from the cabin spilling softly on her, beckoning her inside. Silence enveloped her and her hands trembled as she pulled out the handle on her toiletry bag. The cold hardwood floors creaked and moaned in protest to the thunk, thunk, thunk-ing of the bag’s wheels as they hit each groove on their way to the master bedroom. Jenna looked out at the lake, moonlight dancing on its glassy surface, searching for the light switch. She flicked it on but nothing happened. She tried again. Nothing. Great, she thought. She turned on the light in the bathroom instead. It provided just enough light for her to wash her face, brush her teeth, and
climb into bed. The heavy down comforter swallowed her in its warmth, immobilizing her in its cocoon. Sleep had never felt so good or come so easily. Tomorrow she could think about what to do with her life, but for tonight, all she wanted was a dreamless sleep.
The sun rose above the mountains, illuminating the small room. Blinking, she opened her eyes to reveal a blue-bird day, the light spreading cheerfully across the white-washed pine walls of the master bedroom. She sat up, staring across the sapphire water. With a long yoga inhale, she breathed in the crisp clear beauty of her surroundings. Never one prone to introspection, Jenna had always opted to help someone else through their turmoil rather than dwell on her own. For the first time in her life, she was forced to sit, utterly alone with herself. I am me, she thought with Zen-like serenity.
The house, built in the early 1930’s, had a lot of what people call “charm,” which really meant that it creaked and leaked and was small compared to its contemporaries. It was like calling a woman “cute.” Puppies, kittens and babies could be cute; women are either “beautiful” or “have a good personality.” Cute is a passive way of calling a woman “not beautiful, but likeable nevertheless.” No grown woman wants to be called “cute.” Jenna surmised the cabin felt the same about being called “charming.”
The Jax family had owned this house since the 60’s, when Shawn’s first single topped the Billboard Charts. They came here on their way to a tour date in San Francisco and got snowed in. Shawn ended up spending a few days learning to ski in this teeny resort town and fell in love. For the first time in his life, he could afford to splurge. So he bought a little cabin on the lake. Over the years, the other small cabins peppering the lake’s shores were torn down and replaced by gaudy monstrosities, but Shawn loved his little cabin in the forest with its perfect lake views, private pier, and his very own boat garage. Jenna adored her father’s whimsy when it came to this cabin and the mountain lifestyle he found refuge in, but now, feeling the winter cold soar through the single pane windows, she wished he had splurged on a few renovations. She padded lightly to the kitchen to begin foraging for food and more importantly, coffee. None. Anywhere. No coffee maker? No toaster? What had she done? She pulled at her hair from the roots and felt the first twinges of caffeine withdrawal coming on. Sure, she needed some time alone, but not in lieu of civilization.
“Hello?” came a voice with a little courtesy knock as the front door swung open. Zach peeked his head around the corner into the kitchen.
“Coffee? Breakfast burrito?”
“You’re a lifesaver!” She said, nearly bowling him over with a hug. He handed her a giant foil wrapped burrito, chuckling as she devoured it.
“I’m lucky you didn’t take off my hand,” he said.
“Sorry,” she blushed. “Thank you … again.”
“I knew you didn’t have a car,” he shrugged. “And I figured there wouldn’t be anything edible in the house—except maybe some Twinkies from 1985. I’m heading down to Reno to grab a few things. Wanna come?”
“Sure! She made a list (she couldn’t give up all organization) and let Zach run her all over Reno until every last item was checked off. She got a toaster, blender, espresso maker, thick warm-trapping curtains, bath towels, and even found an organic supermarket to get her pesticide-free veggies, meatless ground, tempeh and liquid aminos that she absolutely positively could not live without. As she draped the last curtain over the brushed nickel rod, she admired her progress. Things looked better from up here. She made a mental list of things to ask Zach (Best breakfast place? Best coffee? How to fix the lights?) Once everything was neatly checked off her list, all clean and orderly, then she could tackle unpacking her emotional baggage. It was only logical to create a tranquil environment before battening down the hatches.
Chapter 13
“I need to take some time off,” Alex said. Simon stopped his furious typing and looked up from his phone.
“Are you crazy, mate? The tour is completely sold out!” Before Alex could respond, Simon continued, “Look, in 6 weeks it will be over. Done. And then you can take as much time as you need. But it don’t do well to dwell on it now do it? No. Tell you what. There were some nice girls backstage just waitin’ to talk to you … maybe you could go out with them. Get your mind off things.”
“No. I’m done. I’m going to save my marriage. Tonight’s my last show.” Zach turned on his heel, striding off down the long hotel hallway.
Before the elevator doors shut, Simon jammed his stubby hand through. His face was different, the smooth salesman façade gone, revealing an angry Welshman who looked a brass knuckle away from busting someone’s kneecaps.
“You listen to me. Listen good. You’re gonna finish this tour. You’re gonna go on stage every night and bust your guts up there. You’re gonna do it whether you like it or not because if you don’t, the label will drop you. If you don’t, all the time and effort and money put into this tour to make your dreams come true will be refunded—out of your pocket. Or should I say, your wife’s pocket. I’m telling you this for your own good. How do you think wifey’s gonna like it when all this was for nothin’ and she’s the laughing stock for marrying a loser,” Simon said, every muscle in his face tense. “I’m just telling you how it is,” he finished in a softer tone.
Alex gulped and looked straight ahead at his warped reflection. “Fine,” he said, feeling like a child caught in a tantrum.
“Look, mate, I’m just lookin’ out for ya. You and me both know you can’t afford that. Jenna wants you to be a success, so give her that. You owe it to her.” Simon said, the tension in his face gone. “And you know what else you can’t afford? Lettin’ your fans down. And me. I been your number one fan for over fifteen years. You just gonna skip out on us now?” Simon implored, friendly again, betrayed only by the vein still bulging in his forehead. The elevator dinged. Simon held eye contact until the doors closed and Alex was finally alone.
Alex could feel every muscle in his body tense. His fists were clenched and turning white. He wanted nothing more than to tell the label what they could do with his contract. The anonymous backer behind the label that Simon refused to name was a real hard-ass. But Simon was right. This tour was the only way to pay back the label. And Simon. Simon had believed in his talent when everyone else wrote him off. He owed a lot to him, even if their relationship had turned antagonistic lately.
Short of winning a four million dollar jackpot in Vegas, there was nothing he could do. Most of all, he needed to prove to Jenna he could support them. And he would prove that all her sacrifices were worth it. There was no other choice—he had to finish the tour. Alex swallowed a mounting sense of dread.
He remembered the summer between their junior and senior years of high school. Jenna broke up with him shortly before school got out because he’d refused to get a fake ID to go out to some new club. The skeazy owner of said club invited her after she modeled for the grand-opening posters. Alex had barely controlled his rage when he saw the photos, so he didn’t think it wise to be close enough to hit the guy.
“God, you’re so boring,” Jenna complained.
“I’m boring because I don’t want to watch sleazy guys try to get in my girlfriend’s pants?”
“Ugh! Not that again. Who cares if they want to sleep with me? I don’t want to sleep with them. And what about all your stupid groupies? Huh? You don’t think that’s a problem, do you?”
“That’s different! God, that’s part of my career! Not just to prance around practically naked.”
They seethed at each other silently. “Just do what you want, Jenna. I don’t care anymore.”
“Fine! And we’re done, by the way. So you know. When I’m prancing around with some random guy, I won’t be cheating on you!” She narrowed her eyes, hands on hips. “Oh, and modeling is a career too.” She stomped off, leaving him alone in the quad with a slew of onlookers. Great, he thought, an audience.
***
During sound check, with the
cameras rolling for their behind-the-scenes DVD footage, he went through all the motions, exchanged pleasantries, shook hands, signed autographs, and decided on the set list with his band. He watched himself from somewhere outside his body. He did everything he was supposed to do while his Real Self floated around the ether, trying to find a way back to his wife. He was desperate to wake up from this nightmare.
He knew she had a point. He knew he screwed up. But why did she leave? She had to understand he never loved Airika. Their brief romance had been prompted by his jealousy, and after Jenna went away that summer, it lasted longer than it should have. He never loved Airika the way he loved Jenna. Airika was just … different. Fun and intense, more sexually daring and comfortable with her body than Jenna. She was a vixen, even then. He was a teenage boy with a broken heart. It wasn’t hard to tempt him. But as soon as he saw Jenna in the airport, he knew. He would only ever love her. And he’d been faithfully devoted ever since.
She knew he wasn’t just with her because he got her pregnant. Surely. If she’d just answer her damned phone maybe they could discuss it like adults. At first he thought she just needed time to cool down, but three days went by and she still hadn’t answered any of his calls, texts or emails. It was beginning to feel a lot like high school.
He needed to know she was okay. Felicity was safely out of the line of fire at Shawn and Anya’s, but other than a cursory call, the three of them were pretty tight-lipped. The open communication he was used to with Felicity now felt stifled, awkward. Worse still was when she gave him very parental sounding advice. “Give it time, Dad. Just give her some space right now. She needs it”.
Great. Even Felicity was talking to him like a small child. All he wanted was to make things right and get his best friend back. He needed Jenna and didn’t think he could act like everything was okay, knowing she wanted nothing to do with him. Was there someone else? He tried to bury the thought, but it resurfaced over and over, plaguing him with visions of her climaxing with some hot vegan yogi who owned an organic farm and mastered the ancient practice of Tantric sex.
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