Hold Her Down

by Kathryn R. Biel

  CHAPTER SIX: May 22, 2012

  "Okay, so this is the dirt that I've gotten so far," Julia whispered as they entered the gymnasium of the civic center for yoga class. They had to keep their voices down, because it seemed everyone in their small community knew Nancy. "I guess the book, from some of the advanced reviews, is pretty racy. Nancy told Theresa Johnson who told Kristy Spurns that her ex had been in a lot of contact with her while writing the book. I guess he asked her for access to her Facebook account and called her a lot to ask her opinions on things. She's pretty sure that the book is about her, which is why she's nervous."

  "Like, about her in a sexual way?" Elizabeth couldn't believe it. How would it be to have your ex, someone you trusted and had had a relationship with write down the salacious details of your most private moments? She wasn't sure she wanted to know Nancy in that way. Frankly, she didn't want to know any of the moms from school that way.

  "I'm not sure. It gets released tomorrow, and then the signing is on Thursday. Theresa said Nancy is on top of the world about it but doesn't want to appear too full of herself. You know, it's not every day the main character of a book is based upon you."

  Elizabeth shook her head. "No, it's not. Has she read it yet?"

  Julia shook her head. "It doesn't sound like it, from the way people are talking. I guess Nancy's pretty on edge but is pretending not to be."

  "I wonder if she's worried it might be unflattering? Like, say, the main character is the world's biggest bitch?"

  "I would think that's why she's worried. For her glossy veneer, I think Nancy could have a mean streak."

  "Yeah, I could see that. Peter says she scares him and that no one can be that perfect."

  Before Elizabeth could think it over more, the instructor had started class, and Elizabeth had to concentrate more on not falling over than how a fictionalized Nancy could be portrayed.

  After class, as Elizabeth wiped the sweat from her face, she asked Julia, "So are you going to get the book and read it ahead of time or wait until Thursday?"

  Julia shrugged. "I'm not sure. I hadn't thought about it that much. What about you?"

  "Well, I probably don't have time to get to a bookstore tomorrow. It's my night with the kids. I could download it on my e-reader, which is how I usually read anyway."

  "Yeah, I'm not sure I even remember how to turn real paper pages anymore."

  Elizabeth laughed. "But then are we expected to buy another copy at the event? Or is it enough to tell him that we are reading electronically? I hate spending a whole lot of money on books, let alone to have to buy one twice."

  "Yeah, I can imagine that Peter would not look kindly on that one."

  Elizabeth let out a terse chuckle. The penny-pinching and obsessive control was better, but still not to the point where she could laugh about it. She knew Julia was trying to be funny, but it still grated on Elizabeth. The fights she and Peter had had about money were monumental. Even after Sydney's hospital stay, his need to approve or veto every penny she spent nearly did them in. He finally agreed that she had a monthly expenditure budget (she really wanted to hit him in the head with a frying pan when he tried to call it allowance). He was not allowed to look at or criticize how the money was spent, as long as she kept within those confines. If something came up, Peter was trying to be more open about how the household money was spent. One of the things that Elizabeth had made Peter agree to was a monthly housekeeping service, just to help her keep on top of things.

  Anyway, Elizabeth's curiosity about the book was piqued. She knew she would spend some of her "budget" to purchase it, one way or another, just to see for herself what it was about. She supposed she should wait and purchase a physical copy of the book on Thursday. But as the next day wore on, Elizabeth could not help thinking about it. She searched on her e-reader for "J. P. Devaney" and read the summary of the book, "Hold Her Down."

  She had been the girl of his fantasies since high school. Now a small-town housewife, she shows up on his doorstep at just the right time. He is frustrated, and she is vulnerable. And for the weekend, she is his to use as he pleases.

  Elizabeth wasn't sure how she felt about the summary. This guy was supposed to be a tween fantasy writer. This seemed to cross the line into a whole other type of fantasy. On the one hand, Elizabeth was not above reading smutty books, not that she ever admitted that to anyone. They had met her own needs for quite some time. On the other hand, she was not sure she could walk into a store, buy the book in front of the whole town (or at least those who had made the exclusive guest list), and gush to the pervert who wrote it. She was much more comfortable purchasing it on her e-reader, in the privacy of her own home.

  She did know that, if it weren't for Nancy, she probably would not be shelling out the dough for the book, either electronically or in physical form. She guessed that was why Nancy had invited her and Julia to the book release in the first place. She obviously had something to gain from her ex doing well with his book sales. Part of Elizabeth felt like she was being manipulated or used, but she supposed this was how the game was played. Still figuring out the social scene after all these years, at times she still felt lost. She turned off the e-reader, not ready to make a commitment one way or the other.

  Elizabeth could not figure out why this was so important to her. It was a simple book signing. Maybe it was because Elizabeth had never been invited to such an event before. She knew that being in Nancy's inner circle was the acceptance she had sought for so long. It was the golden ring. It would open up avenues for socialization and opportunities for Teddy and Sydney along the way. Living in a small upstate community, being connected was the only way to go. Nancy could be friends with anyone she chose, but it seemed like she wanted to get to know Elizabeth better. So why did the thought of buying a simple book bother her so much? It was a small token of faith in what would hopefully be a long-time friendship.

  On Wednesday, Elizabeth accompanied Teddy's third grade class on its field trip to the zoo about an hour away. She sat near the back of the bus, cocooned between the tall leather seats. Teddy sat on the outside, hanging into the aisle and talking with his friends. Elizabeth wished she had brought her iPod or something to read. She looked out the window, but it made her carsick. She closed her eyes and tried to doze, but the large coffee she had had was acting against her. As she sat, bracing herself against the jostling, Elizabeth realized that two mothers seated behind her were talking about "Hold Her Down." She strained to hear what Kristy Spurns and Nicole Bovee were saying, only picking up snippets here and there. Elizabeth could think of no way to join in the conversation smoothly and decided to play her hand cautiously about it. She did not want it to get back to Nancy that she was a gossipmonger who could not be trusted.

  When she was finally and blissfully released from the imprisonment of the stuffy bus, Elizabeth had to get a soda to calm her churning stomach. She was kicking herself for not driving up, but Teddy was so excited to ride the bus with her. While she was getting her soda, she noticed that Kristy was next to her in line. She turned, making small talk about how riding a school bus was bringing back traumatic memories from childhood. Kristy had replied that it wasn't so bad, since she and Nicole talked the entire way up. Elizabeth saw her opening.

  "Did I hear you talking about Nancy's ex's book? Have you started reading it?"

  "Oh my God, yes! Did you?"

  "Um," Elizabeth shifted nervously, "not yet. I'm planning on reading it."

  "You totally have to!"

  "I take it, it's good?"

  "Oh my God," Kristy gushed again. "It's like, so freakin' hot. Your husband better brace himself, because if this doesn't put you in the mood, then nothing will."

  Elizabeth's brow furrowed. "Is there any plot?"

  "Oh yes, definitely. I don't want to give it away, but you HAVE to read it."

  Elizabeth nodded. "Oh, I'm gonna. I just can't believe that we sort of know someone who wrote a book."

  "I know. It's crazy,
like the six degrees of separation or something."

  "Although," Elizabeth said cautiously, "I'm not sure how I would feel about my ex writing a book. I would be afraid at how I would be portrayed."

  "Far as I can tell, although I'm not that far into it, Nancy's not in it. She's certainly not the main character. The main woman is a brunette."

  Elizabeth mulled this over. She wondered if Nancy was going to be pissed off. She guessed yes. Elizabeth would be if she was led to believe that she was going to be in the book. Teddy was now pulling her in one direction, while Kristy's daughter was wanting to go in another, so that was the end of the discussion. But Elizabeth had made up her mind. She would definitely be purchasing the book as soon as she was able.

  CHAPTER SEVEN: May 23, 2012

  Peter had the kids on Wednesday night. Elizabeth went to the big-box bookstore, where she got herself a cup of tea and curled up on the sofa to read, "Hold Her Down." Even in the bright lights of the store, she knew she would be able to focus and read uninterrupted, which would not happen at home. Her download was complete and she swiped to the first chapter.

  Ben was going crazy, he could feel it. He was trapped up in his mountain house, with nothing but a black lab and the pressure of a deadline looming. He had promised his agent something new, something hot. A total departure for him. But he had nothing. He needed some inspiration. He was in a dry spell like no other. How could he possibly write what he was supposed to when he could not even remember what sex was like? What had made him convince his agent to sell this idea before a word was written? He needed someone to fuck. His last girlfriend was still in the city, which was three hours away. Even if she weren't with someone else, he probably couldn’t convince her to take another shot at him. He'd blown that one, but good.

  Ben poured himself another whiskey. He wasn't headed anywhere. He was alone, with his writer's block tormenting him. Taunting him. Dangling failure in his face. He stared at the amber liquid, begging it to take away his block. Jesus Christ, he had been an arrogant fool, running his mouth off that he could write a titillating, scandalous book even better than the one currently burning up the best seller list. Why had anyone even listened to him? There was certainly no one listening now. Just silence. Mocking, jesting silence.

  Just when he thought he could stand the silence no more, the dog alerted him to a noise at the front door. He stumbled slightly upon standing, righting himself quickly. He lumbered towards the door, nearly tripping again as Harold cut him off. Damn dog. He grabbed the chocolate lab's scarlet collar as he opened the door slowly, icy sleet pelting him. It was dark and the sleet and freezing rain had converted to snow, not atypical for October in the mountains. The roads would be impassable soon anyway, with the storm moving in. Ben opened the door to find a filthy, soaked and frozen woman. She looked as if she were about to drop. She raised her head, and her dark hair parted, exposing the face of the woman who had haunted him for years. He could not have predicted a more surprising visitor. Nellie Grogan.

  Elizabeth was startled by the vibration of her cell phone in her pocket. Without thinking, she answered it, concerned at why Peter was calling. Her "hello" garnered her a dirty look from the disheveled man on the chair next to her, who was reading some sort of graphic novel. She flipped the cover closed on her e-reader and headed out of the store, trying to keep her voice low.

  "What's up? Is everything okay?"

  "Yeah, um, no."

  Elizabeth grew panicked. "What's wrong?"

  "Teddy just wants to talk to you. I guess he had a bad day or something, but he keeps telling me I wouldn't understand."

  "But is he okay?"

  "Grumpy, but fine. Do you want to talk to him?"

  Elizabeth had exited the store to have the conversation. She hadn't even realized she was headed to the car. "Tell him I'll be home in about fifteen minutes and we can talk then. Will that be all right?"

  "You don't have to come home."

  "It's fine. I'm already in the car. No big deal. I'll be out again tomorrow, so I don't mind being there to say good night to the kids. It'd be nice to catch up with you too."

  "Okay, I guess I'll see you in a few."

  By the time Elizabeth got home, Teddy's apparent mood issues were well on their way to being resolved. Peter had solved whatever had been ailing Teddy with the creative use of a root beer float. Elizabeth quickly wiped down the counter, instantly aggravated that Peter never cleaned up after himself. As she put the glasses into the sink, she resolved not to stay upset. Peter was doing her a favor tomorrow night, and she should just appreciate that and move on. The sounds of the TV and laughter floated out from the living room. Elizabeth joined her family. She settled in on the couch, bookending the kids between her and Peter, and watched a cartoon program with them. It was a nice time, the four of them sitting close. No fighting, no snide remarks. Elizabeth caught Peter's eye, and he offered her a small smile. She was glad she had come home. She would have plenty of nights by herself to read next week when Peter was away. This was more important. Family.

  Once she put the kids to bed, Elizabeth herself climbed into bed. Peter was downstairs, watching a baseball game. She pulled out her e-reader, and attempted to continue on where she had left off. She was so tired, she was having trouble focusing on the words. They weren't sinking in but she kept reading.

  Good God, it was Nellie Grogan. Ben was almost positive. He had dreamed about her more times than he cared to admit as a teenager, and even into college. What in hell was she doing here, on his doorstep, in the mountains, in the middle of an ice storm, looking as though she had been beaten?

  "Oh my God, Nellie? Are you all right?"

  He kept calling her name, but she was not responding. She had a look of bewilderment that clouded her green eyes. Her eyes looked too alien to belong on her face. Harold was licking her hand, nudging her with his muzzle, but she did not even seem to notice.

  "Nellie? Are you hurt? You are Nellie, aren't you?" Maybe it was not Nellie. He began to doubt his recall. Was he so desperate and delusional that he had conjured his high school fantasy? Was he that drunk? Was this woman even here?

  "We need to get you warmed up. How long were you outside for? Nellie? Ma'am? You need to warm up. We need to get you out of these wet clothes. Ma'am?"

  She made no attempt to move, just standing there, practically convulsing with cold. He looked at her hands. Shit, they were very pale. He hoped that she did not have frostbite that would need medical attention. There was no way he could get her out tonight. Ben knew he would have to handle this himself. From inside his clouded, inebriated brain, he tried to recall proper First Aid procedures.

  Ben thought he had to warm her up by removing her clothes. Nellie, or whoever she was, was soaked to the bone. Her jeans were torn at the knees and her legs appeared to be bleeding. She looked so pale. He worried that she was in shock. She still made no attempt to move, even to take off her useless, sopping windbreaker. Ben had no choice. He had to get started. He set to work, slowly. She just watched him, her eyes huge. They were less clouded, but somehow no less alien. They were too large for her alabaster face. He peeled off her soaked coat. The dog continued to lick her hands. The woman let out a small sigh. Ben stopped abruptly, pulled back, so as not to scare her.

  Ben tried to steady his voice. His heart was racing. He was sure this was Nellie. He wondered if she had a head injury. He continued on, reassuring her, trying to make her comfortable. "Are you okay? I'm sorry, but we've got a get you out of these cold wet clothes and see if you have hypothermia. Can you do it Ma'am?"

  She managed to give the tiny shake of her head and closed her eyes. She looked like she was trying to lift her arm, but it only raised up a fraction of an inch before it dropped down and hung lifeless at her side. She looked utterly helpless. Ben kept talking as he worked, his voice trying to soothe her. He explained, step-by-step, what he was going to do. What he was going to take off next. He bent over and lifted her soaked pant leg, looking
for the top of her shoe.

  Jesus Christ! This woman wasn't wearing any socks. What would possess someone to wander outside in an ice storm wearing only flimsy clogs without even socks? Her feet were bright red and ice cold. The Nubuck of the shoes had provided little protection. He hoped she wasn't going to lose any toes. He had slid his hand down the side of her leg, as one did with a horse, and she instinctively lifted her foot, steadying herself by placing her hand on his shoulder.

  At her first touch, Ben felt a shot of adrenaline race through his body. Thoughts began to flood his brain, and he worked hard to press them down so he could focus on the task at hand. Which, happened to be keeping this woman alive, not bedding her. He clenched his jaw, and tried to focus. She pulled her hand back slightly. Ben continued to speak to her in soft, soothing tones, as one does to a child or pet, trying not to let on to the devious and degenerate thoughts that he was not able to suppress. He stripped off her frozen clog and she reflexively placed her foot on the faded wooden floor.

  "I've got to do the other one."

  Finally, in a small, weak voice, she croaked, "Janell."

  The sound of her voice, no matter how little, shocked him. He stopped and pulled back suddenly. He did the briefest of moments, regrouped and smiled. Ben knew that it was Nellie Grogan. He was not crazy or delusional. At least, not about this.

  "Okay then Janell, when did you stop going by Nellie?"

  She squinted at him, trying to figure out who he was. She had a guilty look that one wears when they forget the name of the person they are introducing.