by H. Ward
Whatever. I reach for my second martini. I realize I have finished it in a few gulps. Must have been washing out the bad taste from two slimy tongues. We drink and laugh and take pictures all night. I am walked to the dance floor by each guy there and paraded around on their arm. Finally I can barely see straight and Sven is telling everyone good bye and grabs my arm. I stumble along behind him as we move across the crowded dance floor.
Lights pulse, the sound is pounding deep into my bones. I can’t see well, it is dark and then the strobe lights wash everything out with neon pink and then it is dark again. But we manage to find the door and pop out into the night air. Or early morning air in this case.
I suck in some fresh city air.
Sven has just waived a cab over, I bend to get in and feel him push me forward and he climbs in after me.
“Just what the hell do you think you are doing?”
I almost scream this I am so drunk that I have no real concept of my volume and have also just spent hours in that madhouse of a dance club.
“What the hell do you think? We’re going home to top off my birthday.”
“You plan to fuck me?” I ask incredulous and now I really have the attention of the cab driver.
“That’s the idea of the whole night sweetie.” Sven is frowning now and getting angry.
I can top anyone in angry. I slide around in the seat so I am facing him, jerking my arm away from him. I do this so hard that my arm hits against my window behind my head. I don’t even feel it.
“What about spending the night in a club so I can show off a pretty girl has to do with fucking?” Again, blame it on the drinks because I am not filtering anything I am saying and the volume is going up again.
“That’s right. That is implied. After all, you wanted me to pay for everything.”
“Guys always pay for everything when they spend time with me.”
“So you are a whore, see? Now shut up, you are ruining my mood.”
“GET THE FUCK OUT THIS CAB!” I scream and start to hit him. The cab lurches over to the curb and the driver jumps out and pulls Sven’s door open and drags him away from my flying hands. Sven had been caught so off guard that he hadn’t even had time to think about punching me back. The cabbie pushed him down the sidewalk a few steps and gets back in.
He turns around and asks me if I am ok. I smooth my hair and clear my throat. “Yes. And thank you. I had no idea he was going to do that.” The cabbie shakes his head, but he is looking in the mirror at eyes the color of a dark forest and my charming smile. He is helpless and says no more. He drives me home.
My head is swimming. My eyes are crossed. I can feel myself holding on to the walls of the elevator so I don’t fall flat on my face. As the doors slide open I stumble out and weave toward my apartment door.
There is someone standing there!
I try to focus my eyes but that makes me stumbled backwards and I bump hard against the closed elevator doors.
“Shit, Natalie. Let me help you.” Ah that lovely voice. No, not lovely anymore. I hate him now.
“Get the fuck away from me,” I slur with no dignity. I am still wound up from the Sven incident and in no mood to be ladylike.
“Nat, you’re not yourself. Let me help you inside.” He grabs my arm and I can feel the pull. The only thing I could do to break his hold in my weakened state is sit down, and I do want to get inside and pour some ice water down my throat.
I don’t even get to fumble with my keys; Jason takes them from me and opens the door. Still holding my arm, he guides me inside and to the sofa. As I plop down like a doll, I remember I want something cold to drink.
“Ssm water,” I say and start to get up.
“I’ll get it for you. Just sit there and rest.”
I watch my big strong used-to-love-him guy walk to my kitchen. Seeing him in my apartment again has made me suddenly sad. I feel hot tears slide down my cheeks. I hiccup for air. I blink my eyes and stretch my eyes wide, hoping something will help me act all pulled together before he comes back.
I meekly take the glass from his hand and start to slurp down the cold water. I feel it freezing my throat on the way down. I am blissful in this feeling when Jason makes a choking sound. He just noticed the tears on my cheeks that I forgot to wipe off.
“Oh Nat. Nat, please forgive me! It went too far too fast; then I didn’t know what to say. Please, please believe me, I wasn’t faking any of it! I swear. I gave your father back all his money right away, before you found out. The only thing I used was the rental car, it was paid up for six months, so I just figured I’d run that out.” He is starting to babble now.
I am still sad. The words he is saying are not really sinking in. All I know is he is apologizing and I know I miss him and he lied to me and I can’t trust him and I am sad and I miss him and I hate him and I don’t know how to be happy without him.
Now I have worked myself up so badly I start to scream at him. “Get out! Leave me alone, you liar.” I point toward my door.
“Let me tell you the whole story, please. You see I took the job, I was only supposed to make sure you were not getting into trouble like tonight. Only supposed to see you once a week and then …”
My brain is not processing this as fast as he is talking. I got to ‘took the job’ and got furious. “I know I was just a job to you – and the job is O V E R — so get the hell out of my house!” I wildly look around for something to throw. If he is going to work for my dad, I can treat him like my dad. As my hand curls around a vase, Jason realizes what I intend.
“Wait! Wait! Nat, I’ll leave. Put it down, don’t hurt yourself, you’ll have glass all over. You won’ t let me explain?”
“NO! OUT! I hate liars! I hate you. I thought you were different.” I brandish the vase.
“Ok, but I’ll be right outside. You aren’t in good shape, if you need anything tonight; I’ll be right outside and I’ll do anything for you.”
I glare at him. He leaves.
* * *
Jason shut the door. He shook his head and almost walked back in. He was picturing the tears in Natalie’s eyes. He knew she didn’t hate him like she was screaming. She was lashing out in hurt and masking it with anger. He knew that she went out and got stinking drunk because she was hurt over what she found out.
He sat down right outside her door. Propping his back against it. She hadn’t locked it yet, and he was planning to sit out here like a guard dog until morning. Guilt was consuming him. He wished he could think of some way to make this all better.
He really had planned just to keep an eye on her, like her father wanted. Just to call Heath if his daughter was in a situation that she may need to be pulled out of. Just to be a sane friend and maybe ease her away from the drugs and dates with strange men which Heath felt she was having sex with, despite her denials. But he had slowly fallen in love with her. He knew Heath had only told him his side of the family story, and there was so much more that had hurt Nat when she was small. He had been pulling that information out of her in small bits at a time.
Small bits that she could process and he was also teaching her how to look at a painful memory and push it aside and let the subconscious work on it so it was easier to deal with the next time it came up. Not denial—but a way to process just a little at a time until a person could look back and see how much they had accomplished when they hardly knew they were working on a problem.
Jason knew there was so much more to the trauma she had experienced as a child. He knew if he could get all the information from her, he could help her recover even faster. He had been getting more and more details from her. She was able to look a little deeper each time they talked about her childhood.
But now, it was all ruined. He couldn’t explain, he couldn’t convince her if she wouldn’t even listen to him. Now she seemed worse off than before she met him, and that was something that was eating him up inside. He had been served with a restraining order so he had not been able to visit her in the hospital.
That was thanks to Heath. Jason knew she would never trust and confide in her father about her painful childhood. He might have been her only hope. There was no one else who could even keep an eye on her. And with her Narcissistic disorder, there is no way she would admit she had a problem and seek out other professional help.
Then Jason remembered her manager. Aldo?
Yes!
Aldo lived in New York City, but he talked to her almost every week. He set up her travel plans and her hotel rooms. She would trust Aldo a little bit.
Jason called and got an answering machine. Right, time zone issues. It was mid-morning here so very, very early morning there and Aldo seemed the type who was not a morning person. Jason leaned back to try and get as much sleep as he could for now. He would call Aldo after he had his sleep and breakfast, which may be around Aldo’s lunch time. At least he could make sure one person was in Nat’s corner and trying to look out for her.
* * *
I wake up knowing a hangover is going to haunt me all day. I can kick it back with a few boosters. I ooze out of bed and glide to the shower. I toss back two boosters then turn the water on to a respectable warm but not hot temperature. The water and perfumed soap help my head a little. I tip my head back and let the warm water beat on my face. The rhythm is soothing. I concentrate on the noise, the pattern. Soothing like my Zen alarm clock. I am in no hurry to get out, I turn and let the water massage my back. Then finally my stomach tells me to knock it off. Hunger wins, I have get out and find something to eat.
I’m all toweled off and I ease into the kitchen for some fruit and water. At least I don’t want to eat when I have a hangover, I’m only eating now because my stomach is cramping it is so empty, but I have no desire to eat. That’s great for keeping my slim figure. Modeling is all I have now and I can’t mess it up by eating my way out of this situation. I’ll have just enough to get my stomach to settle down.
Boosters and fruit—the breakfast of supermodels! Maybe some laxative since I have to be on guard against over eating now that I am really unhappy and really don’t know what to do with any of my time. I guess laxatives would be bad today, but I’ll take some tomorrow when I feel better. I only have to get through today anyway, tomorrow I travel to my next shoot and I’ll have plenty to keep my mind busy.
I stay in all day. I do call in lunch from a local vegan deli, and munch on some tasteless food while I watch stupid movies all day long. That is about as much energy as I can muster. I force myself not to think of Jason or my dad. I’m better off without fake liars. I’ll just build my own little empire and my own following. Once I’m famous and fabulously rich, I can do whatever I want.
CHAPTER 10: LIFE WITHOUT LOVE
I wake up angry and in a sweat. I can still feel the pinprick of the needle in my face.
I’ve been dreaming about my earliest memories. Jason once told me the earliest memories are usually ones of the first traumas we suffered, and should be dealt with or they haunt us our whole lives. For months I’ve been suppressing these memories. They have been sneaking into my thoughts while I change outfits or other small spots in the day when I am alone. I’ve been looking at them and pushing them away. The only thing of value I have left from Jason, thank you very much, is the ability I now have to purposely control my memories.
But my dream is still vivid in my memory. I know it will fade soon and can’t wait. But it is haunting me in the meantime, as I stretch and go into autopilot to get ready for my day on the beach in front of cameras.
The pinprick. It is from a needle full of Botox. I am three or four, still basically a toddler, and have a beauty pageant the next day. I still have a little baby chub on me and I guess a fold or two around my eyes from that chub. So I am in a back room of some restaurant getting illicit drugs pumped into my little face. I remember I cry a little. That brings my mother’s face nose to nose with mine with that disappointed look. Even at that young age, I know what that look means and I shut up. I don’t want to get pinched so hard my leg bruises. If I keep it up, she will do it to show how disappointed she is in my behavior.
How could a mother treat a baby girl like that? My mind leaves the dream to flash forward to when I was eight. I don’t call her mother now, I call her Maya. This was not my idea, I wanted a mother. Maya wanted to stay young and didn’t want anyone she knew to see an older girl calling her mother. It only took me a few slaps across the face to drop with word Mom from my vocabulary.
This night Maya is rushing around the house getting ready to go out with friends. Heath is already long gone, disgusted with Maya and divorced and living in Europe somewhere. It didn’t even slow Maya down for a second. She always had a group of friends ready to go out and party with her. Whoever flattered her the most on any given night was who she slept with.
Tonight she was especially pleased because some young male actors were joining her normal group. She was already flying high on coke and gin. I remember I didn’t smash myself against the hallway wall fast enough and she bumped into me, stubbing her toe.
“What the fuck, Natalie?” I could see red start to flush her face. I started to run off to my room. She clamped down on my shoulder and jerked me back. Taking that intimidating nose to nose position she loved so well, she decided now was a good time to vent out some information about my conception. Always a good mother/daughter topic.
“I never wanted you. You were a big accident because Heath lied about his condoms. I was going to abort you, but Heath wouldn’t let me. You are just lucky I tolerate you here. So stay the hell out of my way when I am getting ready to go out!” She pushed me away. I ran further away.
Damn. Damn. I can feel her claw-like grip on my shoulders now. I can feel how my whole body felt cold from the harsh and unloving words. I always figured they had been trying to create a normal family when they had me. Maybe that was just the fantasy of a young girl, making up ideas of how she wanted her family to be.
I have a flash of disgusted glee as I remember that was the night she had her car crash, the night that put her in a wheelchair for the rest of her life. Karma’s a bitch. But she took her abuse to deeper and sneakier levels once she was in a wheelchair.
I shake my head. I am in no way ready to go back to those times. I literally stomp my feet on the floor hard as I walk to the hotel bathroom, set up like a spa, so lovely and the floor is all hard flagstones. The stones are heated from underneath, hot and hard and perfect to send pain shooting up my legs and help me shake off these memories. Send them away so I can get down on the beach and show off my rocking body and make some money.
* * *
Jason was sitting in his office. He was suspended from seeing any patients while he was under investigation. He was far from sure if things would work out for him…he had returned all the money well before Natalie found out... yet, he hadn’t found a way to tell her before she found out, so not keeping the money didn’t seem to hold too much weight. Those two issues seem almost perfectly balanced and they held his career in the balance too. Not taking the money; not telling her soon enough. He had so desperately wanted to tell her, but he also desperately wanted to keep their relationship solid. He saw no way out, so he had panicked and done nothing out of fear.
At work all he could do was help around the office with paperwork and phones and other little things. Right now, he was hunched over his desk after a call from Aldo. The two had been keeping in touch, Aldo reporting what he observed with Natalie and Jason giving him pointers on how to help her through things. Aldo had just reported another night out with a strange man and lots of drinks. He supposed drugs too, but the people who told him what they saw could only confirm the heavy drinking. This caused more acute guilt to flood over him. It had only been four days since that terrible binge he had watched her stagger home from, only four days since he spent the night on her doorstep to make sure no one walked in on her.
Although he was not responsible for her learning to use alcohol to dull her pain, he felt he was responsi
ble for her current lapse; therefore he was going to have to help her. He didn’t care if it cost him his job. He didn’t care if she never came back to him, but somehow he was going to put her back on the path to health again.
First off, he would have to make sure she was safe when she went out with strangers. There was no way he could stop her right now, that would come with other things. But he could shadow her and be there in case something went south. He tapped his fingers on his desk as his mind flew over scenarios. Nothing was really going to be easy, and then there was money. He had to pay for his flat, he had to eat, he had to travel to wherever she was meeting these guys. So far it had all been in London, but she had Aldo booking her solid and was now seeking out companionship if she had any type of spare time before or after her flights or shoots.
This was the main thing that worried Jason. Something bad could happen anywhere, but London was a little more civilized. He actually shivered when he thought of the headlines over the past few years about people disappearing or being killed in some of these exotic places she was going to be traveling to. There was no way he could fund his own travel around the globe keeping up with Natalie. Also, he may be able to pass off her spotting him in London or somewhere in Europe, but if she tagged him somewhere else, like Istanbul, the game would be up.
He was making himself sick thinking about it. He wished there was some way he could let her feel this—feel how this was really making him feel. If she felt his stomach rolling, if she felt him clammy cold but still sweating; she just might believe that he truly loved her.
The physical sickness forced him to stand up and start pacing in his office. Physical movement has been proven to help the brain run logic problems, Jason was forced into pacing so this knowledge was not the reason he was pacing. Yet he hoped the movement would break some idea lose in his mind.
All his mind did was flashback to a conversation he had with Heath before he started the job. Actually the conversation that convinced him to take the job. After all, it was a weird job and Heath was a movie star. It all seemed strange and overly dramatic. He was going to decline the job when Heath started in on the story of the way that Natalie had ended up leaving her mother in Texas to come to live with her father in London.