by Annie Jocoby
“I hear that you’re a great singer.”
“Well, yes, I would hope so. I used to fill houses in Ireland when I was younger. When Ryan was very young.”
At that, she started singing. Humming, really. Bach’s Air on a G String. I loved this piece, and her voice was hypnotic. Ryan smiled, and I could see his face relax.
After that song was over, she looked at me and asked me if I had any requests. Before I could answer, however, she launched into a pitch-perfect Fur Elize on the piano. A gorgeous Beethoven piece, it was breathtaking to hear such a perfect rendition. This was something, considering that the piano was old and, no-doubt, second-hand. Yet Maggie played it like it was a baby-grand. Then she started playing Rachmaninoff’s Theme of Paganini. Then some Tchaikovsky music from The Nutcracker, but also his Second Symphony. Then, out of nowhere, came the Gary Jules version of Mad World, with Maggie and Ryan both singing harmony on this. Then Christmastime is Here from the Charlie Brown Christmas special. Then Wrapped Around Your Finger by the Police. Ryan had a huge smile on his face the entire time.
He moved over to me. “Maggie is in her element.” I smiled, but I noticed that nobody was paying us much attention. The woman was giving a concerto, and nobody really cared. I was guessing that everybody was, literally, in their own worlds.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I’ve been indulgent. I guess I wanted to show off for Ryan’s special lady.” She smiled knowingly. Ryan was blushing. “Now, you were saying – what would you like to hear?”
“Well, it’s Christmas. My favorite Christmas standard is O Holy Night.”
At that, Maggie launched into an elaborate version of this familiar tune. Ryan and I joined her in singing. After that, we sang one Christmas song after another – including John Lennon’s War is Over.
I was treated to this special performance for a few hours, and I was in heaven. I loved every tune that she played. However, at some point, she had to stop. She looked at me and said “Oh, heavens, I have been playing and singing for hours. I really should stop, so that I can get to know you, Iris.”
But first, she launched into one more song – Michael Martin Murphy’s Wildfire. One of my favorite songs. By the time she ended the song, I was crying. She finished the song, then smiled angelically at me. Ryan was silently watching the interaction between us, his arm around her. I noticed him playing with her hair, which was always his loving gesture.
Maggie got up from the piano, and took a seat on the other side of the room. She gestured to Ryan and me to join her.
“So, Iris. How was your Christmas?”
“Oh, it was fabulous. The best ever.” I meant that, and it had zero to do with the elaborate gifts.
She smiled. “Mine, too. I have a wonderful son.”
I wondered about Sarah, where she was. Maggie went on. “And a wonderful daughter, as well. Alas, she’s out of the country this Christmas, with her husband. I wish that you could meet her, but, I guess, some other time.”
She continued. “So, I guess you have family in town?”
I nodded.
“You saw them last night?”
“Yes, we went over there to visit last night.”
“You’re very lucky. From what Ryan tells me, you have a great family.”
I realized she was right. My family was financially broke, but they were intact, and we all loved one another very much. Ryan might have love with his mother, but his father….not so much.
“And you have a career.”
“Such as it is.”
“Don’t give that up. Women always need to have skills, and support themselves. You just never know when your support might be cut off.” I knew that she referred to her own situation, but I didn’t think that she was cut off financially. But maybe she was.
But she didn’t seem bitter. She still smiled angelically. And I realized that, even though she fought mental illness, her overall demeanor was very similar to Ryan’s. Laid-back, happy, seemingly optimistic. I couldn’t imagine this woman violent, even though I knew what she had done.
She turned to Ryan. “And what is your news for me?”
“Well, Sheldon says that you can probably get out early next year. I’m arranging a group home for you to live in for when you get out.”
She sighed, and looked a little sad. “I was hoping I could live on my own.”
“I hope so, too, eventually. But you have to transition.”
“Yes, yes, of course, of course. It’s just that those group homes are so depressing.”
“Well, let’s see how you do, and how you stay on your meds. Maybe you can live on your own after a year or so.”
She nodded. “Hey, maybe I can meet a guy like John Nash in there, and live happily ever after. As long as both of us stay on our meds.” Then she laughed gaily. “Oh, could you imagine? Me and a mathematics genius?”
“Well, of course. I’m confident that you could keep up with anybody,” Ryan said. “You always kept up very well with my Harvard buddies.”
“Oh, yes. How is Nick these days?”
I felt a bit funny. I wonder if she knows. I shook my head. Of course not. Why would she?
“He’s great, great. Spending Christmas with his family in Switzerland.”
“Oh, they’re back in Switzerland? Wonder why they want to live there?”
“I think that they go there every year to ski. Nick, his mother and father, and Nick’s wife and kids.”
“Oh, ok, they aren’t living there. Well, I know why they would want to visit. That’s a gorgeous place.”
“Yeah. Nothing like skiing the Alps.” At that, I groaned inwardly. My own skiing was not progressing apace, and I despaired of ever getting off the Snow Creek slopes. Let alone ski in the Alps. Ryan will have to take his ski trips without me, if he wants to go in the future.
“Right,” Maggie said. “Ah, remember skiing when you were little? We stayed at that little Italian ski chateau?”
“Of course.”
“You were on the Black course by the time you were ten. You were really a natural.”
Ryan blushed.
Maggie went on “Well, maybe we can go skiing together when I get out of here and I’m well. I’d love to try the double black diamonds with you again.”
“That would be great, mom. I can’t wait for that.” He gestured to me. “Iris is learning to ski. Maybe she can join us?”
“Of course! That goes without saying!”
I kept quiet, not telling her that I had never actually been skiing, except on the baby slopes of Snow Creek, which was the skiing park just north of Kansas City. Even those little slopes scared the living crap out of me. Oh, well, they can ski their double black diamonds. I’ll stay behind at the lodge and get drunk.
The day went along like this, as I chatted with Maggie and Ryan. She was an exceedingly sweet woman, talented, beautiful and smart. Just like he described her.
We had dinner there with her, as well. The food there was not as good as the food where Ryan stayed. However, because it was Christmas, they tried to provide something special. It was mashed potatoes that tasted like they came from a box, cranberries from a can; and turkey gravy. The yams also came from a can, although they had little marshmallows on them, which were not completely melted. Their rolls, however, were divine. Absolutely divine. They reminded me of the rolls that I used to get in grade school and high school. My schools served the worst food ever – orange meat, wilted greens, tough ham, mystery food. However, when it came to rolls and breads, nobody did it better. Nobody. The rolls here reminded me of that. I found myself wishing that I could make a meal consisting just of bread.
I thought about my father, who was in the hospital with heart surgery all those Thanksgivings ago. On Thanksgiving Day, they served him chili mac that looked like it had been sitting around for more than a week. So, I figured that the spread that we were getting here was pretty good, considering.
Ryan looked more than pleased to be in Maggie’s presence. And mine,
too. I caught him looking at me many times during the meal, and I could tell that he was happy. I must’ve been doing ok.
And Ryan dug into his food like he hadn’t eaten all week. Ryan, in general, was kind of a health food guy – he pretty much ate organic fruits and vegetables, very little processed food, and free range chicken. He, like myself, was well-versed on how crappy food is today, and how many chemicals and preservatives are added into everything, how much pesticides are on our fruits and veggies, and how many antibiotics and hormones are given to our meat producers. I was pleased to know that about him, because I always wanted to go organic, but never could afford to. He could afford to, and he truly believed, so it was the best of both worlds. Yet, here he was, digging into the processed crap like it was the best thing ever. I supposed to him, it was. Because he was spending Christmas with his mother. And with me. He was like – well, he was a like a kid on Christmas morning.
Around 10 o’clock, we had to leave. I was feeling that I had truly a magnificent time. Maggie was a fascinating woman – besides the fact that she could play piano like Rachmaninoff, and sing like Maria Callas, she truly had a great personality. She was witty, intelligent, well-rounded, and warm. For her Christmas, Ryan had brought her a slew of non-fiction and fiction books which were on her list. Among these books were the entire series of Girl With the Dragon Tattoo books, the new Rachel Maddow book, an autobiography of Keith Richards, a biography of Kurt Cobain, the newest book by John Irving, and many books that I’d never heard of. I had to get out more.
Upon receiving these books, which filled a shopping bag, Maggie exclaimed “Oh, Ryan, exactly what I asked for! These will keep me busy, at any rate.” Maggie didn’t have a gift for Ryan, as she wasn’t able to get out to get him a gift, but, of course, he understood that.
I found it peculiar that Ryan gave his own mother such modest gifts, and myself and my family such elaborate ones. I figured that he was just trying to impress us, and she was his mother, so he didn’t need to impress her.
As we were getting ready to leave, Maggie gave me a long hug. “I’m so happy to finally meet you. Ryan has talked about little else but you for these past few months. You’re just as lovely as he describes.”
“I’m happy to meet you, too, Maggie,” I said, hugging her back. I felt so badly for her, going through all that she had went through – with Benjamin, and her mental illness, and everything else that happened to her. Yet, here she was, resilient, courageous and beautiful. I knew then exactly whose genetics favored Ryan.
He was just like her.
He held my hand and skipped a little as we left. We got outside, into the cold, crisp air. He was practically dancing. “She loved you!” he exclaimed. “As I knew that she would!”
I was laughing. “Well, of course. I’m so loveable, you know!”
“You don’t understand. She couldn’t stand Alexis. I think that she knew that Alexis was bad news. So, it’s nice to bring somebody to her that she loves.”
“What about your other girlfriends?”
“Well, for serious girlfriends, Alexis was the only one. So, pretty much, you’re only the second woman to meet her.”
I was puzzled by this. I knew that he and Alexis were on and off for years, and I figured that there was somebody in there that he cared about. But I guessed that I was wrong about this.
That night, we made love with wild, passionate abandonment. Since neither of us had to be anywhere the next day – we both took the day off from work – our lovemaking had one of the all night qualities that it had at the first, and periodically since then. I was feeling that I couldn’t get enough of him, and he obviously felt the same way.
As we lay there, both of us spent after making love for hours, Ryan took my left hand, and looked at the ring finger dazedly. “That finger looks so naked. We must do something about that soon.” Then he kissed me, and we made love again.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
It was January now, and we had been home, together, uninterrupted by any serious event, for well over a month. And there had been, as of yet, no mention of me meeting Nick. I didn’t bring it up, either. I was too nervous.
However, one Friday night, over a simple dinner of pasta and oil, Ryan casually brought it up. “Uh, what do you think about next Saturday night?”
“As in?”
“As in you and me and Nick getting together for dinner.”
I took a deep breath. I had hoped to avoid it, but here it was. “Sure.”
He smiled. “Good. You’ve met my mother, and Nate. Now it’s time for you to meet the third-most important person in my life.”
I looked at him quizzically. I guessed that meant that I was fourth most important, behind his mother, Nick and Nate, who wasn’t even living in town. I immediately felt dejected. I thought that I rated higher than that.
He kissed me. “You, of course, are tied for number one. With my mother. And Nick is third.”
I was relieved, and sad that I still jumped to the conclusion that I didn’t rate high in his life.
“And, when you are Mrs. Gallagher, you will be number one in my life, bar none.”
I smiled. Promises, promises.
“Ok, then. Let’s do it!” I had a tight smile on my face, and Ryan, unfortunately, was learning all my tells.
“Oh, Iris, I know that you aren’t entirely happy. Just keep an open mind.” At that, he went into the other room and I heard him talking. “Yeah, buddy.” Pause. “Yeah, Friday night, Plaza III.” Pause. “8 o’clock.” Pause. “See you then.”
“8 o’clock Friday it is!”
“Well, Plaza III is incentive enough.” I did love that place. I could never afford it before meeting Ryan, now it was a place that we went to at least once a month.
But little did I know that I would never make it to this particular rendezvous. Neither did Ryan.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
It was Friday, the day of meeting Nick. I was at work, and feeling queasier by the second about what the night held in store for me. I didn’t know what to expect - would they be stealing glances with each other, and talking about me when I went to the bathroom? Would they be discussing the possibility of a three-way between all of us? I knew that Nick was basically straight, although was definitely more bisexual than Ryan. At least that was what Ryan told me about him – that Nick loved women, and women loved him, and he had dudes on the side. But that Nick also did like his “dudes on the side,” and Ryan did not like “dudes on the side.” So, Ryan was pretty much a one guy guy, whereas I guess Nick was a multi-guy guy.
I tried to make sense of it all, but I had to admit that it was difficult.
“I’m trying to say that Nick gets around a bit with the guys,” Ryan said. “He gets on Craig’s List and finds them randomly. Which doesn’t take away from the fact that he loves his wife, and they have a great sex life.”
I sighed. I was reading more and more books about this, and I was understanding that were lots of men like Nick – happily married and prowling for men. Mother never told me about this when I was growing up. Hell, when I was growing up, Nick would be labeled a closet homosexual. Period. Suddenly, however, it was becoming more known that men did like men, and this didn’t mean that they were gay. Or on the way to gaytown. I thought of Cary Grant and James Dean, both rumored bisexuals, and felt comforted.
Anyhow, I had to concentrate at work. Which wasn’t easy on the best of days. I dazedly sat through new client intakes, explaining the rules of bankruptcy to one client, and how I could help get custody of their kid to another. To another guy I was explaining how I would get him off his latest DUI charge. Then, in the afternoon, I sat through the endless line at the traffic prosecutor’s office, in an effort to reduce a ticket. It was all in a day’s work, really, except that I knew that the evening would be anything but routine.
But I could never, in my wildest dreams, imagine just how non-routine it would be.
At the end of the day, I walked to my car. Sudd
enly, out of nowhere, a slight figure jumped out at me, and put a rag over my face. I struggled a bit, then everything went black.
Chapter Thirty
I came to sometime later. I had no idea how much time had passed, or where I was. I had on a blindfold, my wrists were handcuffed to the arms of a chair, and my ankles were handcuffed to the legs of the chair. I felt completely nauseated. Then I realized that there must have been a bucket of vomit on the floor next to me. I could smell its pungent odor.
I tried to orient myself. Was I dreaming? I often get disoriented when I first awake, not knowing where I was. I waited for the familiar feeling to kick in, the feeling that I got when I figured out exactly where I was, and I was able to fall back to sleep.
I had a vague feeling that my upper arm was tied off with something. A tourniquet, maybe. And there was a needle in the crook of my elbow.
What the hell is going on here? I wasn’t exactly panicking. I felt too out of it to panic, yet I did have some degree of lucidity, because I knew that something was not right. But I still could not yet figure out if I was dreaming or awake.
I prayed that I was dreaming.
Then I heard a voice.
“Hello, Iris.”
“Hi?” I said, uncertainly.
“I see that you are awake.”
“Yes, I am awake,” I said, stating the obvious.
“Do you know where you are?”
“No.”
“Ryan told you about me, I presume?”
Oh, so this is connected to Ryan somehow. At least it was not a random serial killer. If I’m not dreaming, and this is real, at least I have some chance of getting through this. I was amazed at how logically I was thinking it through. My legal brain, I guess. Or maybe it was the Virgo brain.
I nodded. I really didn’t know if Ryan had told me about this woman or not. I didn’t know who she was. Literally.
“Fucking bastard.”
It struck me. Was this Rochelle? I knew that it wasn’t Alexis. I knew Alexis’ voice. Besides, Alexis was around a little bit, not as much as before, and she was always nice. Was trying to get her life together. She even kinda had a new boyfriend, and we all went out one night. I didn’t think that she would have a relapse so bad that she would kidnap me.