[Adventures of Anabel Axelrod 01.0] A Date With Fate

by Tracy Ellen

  My smile outdid a Cheshire cat. ‘Jack, Jack, Oh Jack.’

  With a lighter heart, and singing along with Sara Bareilles because she begged me from my iPod, I cautiously danced around and cleaned up. Finished with KP duty, I went to change out of my flour dusted yoga pants and shirt. I had fun over the next hour doing girly-girl stuff.

  Scrutinizing my closet offerings, I chose a royal blue, gauzy peasant blouse stitched with black velvet embroidery. The shirt has an empire neckline and sheer, black embroidered sleeves. It was an exotically fanciful shirt; and it billowed when I twirled. I felt like a pregnant, gypsy queen. A perfect choice it you planned on eating a lot, or dancing around a campfire. I lazily wove my shiny clean hair into a side braid that hung down my front and tied off the end with a black silk ribbon.

  Going with the gypsy theme, I put on make-up to accent what I consider my best features, my eyes. Not only have I been blessed with two of them, but they’re a dark blue color with touches of gray. I have long black lashes and dark, naturally arching brows. Otherwise, I like my face, but it’s nothing extraordinary to write home about.

  NanaBel and her friends say I have the look of a young Ann-Margaret. Most people my age have no clue who a young Ann-Margaret is unless they’ve watched old Elvis Presley movies. I don’t know who I resemble, but I would best describe my looks in more modern terms as the girl-next-door type, only with a D cup.

  Putting on dangly earrings made of lapis lazuli, I heard the ringing of the apartment doorbell. Checking my cell, I saw it was 3:45 PM. It was Reg and I buzzed him up.

  He arrived at the top of the stairs with two six-packs. “I was bored after the game, so I decided to come over early to bug you.”

  “Oh, lucky me.” I scooted past his half-hearted swipe with a laugh, we were both still moving a little slower than normal. “Do me a favor? Go taste the soup and tell me if it needs anything, would you please? I’ll be right there.” I called back over my shoulder, “But do not add anything yourself, Salty Sam, or I’ll go for your femoral.”

  “You can try, but it may be awfully hard with the back of your head blown off,” Reggie responded cheerfully as he went to taste.

  From my bedroom, I heard the TV flipped on in the living room. Sports blared. My alone time, rejuvenating afternoon was officially over. I was leaving the bathroom when the doorbell rang again. Reggie beat me to the master station.

  He threw me an odd look as he spoke into the intercom, “Hang on a minute.” He motioned me over with his head. “Junior, come here.” Reg stepped aside for me to peer at the small screen. “Is that Mike McClain?”

  I took a quick glance and saw a tiny image of Mike McClain for the first time in almost ten years. My first reaction was to stand back, as if burned.

  I recovered from my shock. “He’s moved back to town recently.”

  “Hey, that’s great! Should I buzz him up?”

  I heard the note of eagerness in Reg’s voice. When he was in his teens, my brother had hero worshiped Mike. He was the older brother Reg never had, but always wanted.

  I had triumphed over a murdering rapist today, Mike McClain was small potatoes. “I guess.”

  Reg pressed the intercom. “Mike, this is Reg. I’m buzzing both doors unlocked. Come on up, man!”

  I waited at the top of the stairs, but Reggie went down to the landing in his excitement at seeing Mike. Their hearty greetings and backslapping echoed loudly in the stairwell. It was strange hearing Mike’s voice again in my apartment after all this time. Luke’s voice was low and deeper, a baritone. Mike’s was a tenor. He still sounded laid back and friendly, a man at his ease in any social situation.

  “Reg, look at you! Good job, man, you aren’t a shrimp like your sisters.” He and Reg laughed together and bumped fists. “It’s great to see you. What are you up to these days?” When his eyes looked up to see me at the top of the stairs, Mike stopped speaking. A smile burst across his face. He recovered his stride and came up to where I was standing. I didn’t return his smile, but waited politely.

  “Hello, Bel,” he said softly.

  Mike’s about six-feet tall, athletic, solid, and muscular. Anna would be happy I could see for myself that he was neither fat nor balding. The scumbag looked great. He had fully matured into the man he was just promising to become at twenty. Back then, he was considered boy-band worthy by my girlfriends. Mike was one of those rare golden blondes with dark brows and a dark brown beard, not blonde or red. I could not watch the TV series “LOST” when it aired, even though Anna and Mac raved over it and never missed a week for years. Mike was a dead ringer for the character Sawyer. The resemblance was too eerie and too much of a reminder.

  “Mike,” I replied evenly, stepping back a little.

  Mike ran a hand up the back of his head. His hair was shorter now and more golden-brown than blonde. He probably didn’t spend the summer outdoors working construction anymore. The nervous gesture was familiar, though, and I felt a tug of remembrance before I shut it down.

  He flashed a self-deprecating smile. “Thanks for agreeing to see me today. I know it’s rude to stop by this way, but I couldn’t wait to talk to you. I took a chance you’d be here, or in the store. I noticed the store’s closed early today.”

  His glance moved past me. He was taking in the yellow police tape on the attic door at the end of the hallway.

  “Not too big a chance you wouldn’t find me here.” I ignored his inquiry about Bel’s hours. I looked at Reggie standing off to the side and clearly curious. “Listen, Mike is only here for a few minutes to talk about something.” I raised my brows at Mike. “I assume you want your five minutes of talking in private?”

  Mike gave my brother’s shoulder a friendly punch. “I did come by to see your sister for a minute, but let’s you and me get together later this week. Does that work for you?”

  Reggie grinned broadly. “Sounds good, Mike. I’ll have you out to the lake house. It’s getting cold as a witches tit out there, but we’re men and can still grill on the deck, am I right?”

  Mike laughed and agreed. Reggie fished out one of his business cards from his wallet and then went back into the living room to watch football. My brother wasn’t being disloyal to me. It had been too long for him to give the past a thought. He and I had never talked in detail about why Mike and I broke-up. He had been on a camping trip up in the Boundary Waters at the time and missed the gossip. I had never brought Mike up, Mike’s parents had

  moved, and Reggie got on with his busy, teenage life. To him, Mike McClain was just a fond memory of one of his sister’s boyfriends.

  “Follow me.” I didn’t wait, but went down the hallway. I passed my closed bedroom door. The next room on the left was Reggie’s old boyhood bedroom, now serving as my home office.

  I could feel Mike’s gaze on me as I lead the way. It figured that I was wearing my pregnant, gypsy shirt and jeans, instead of something tight or short. He probably thought I’d gone to fat. Not that I cared what he thought, but this weekend really sucked.

  I opened the door and waved him into the office. As Mike passed me by, I caught a whiff of the clean scent integral to him that always reminded me of a sunny day outdoors.

  Suddenly I felt sad and drained; I wanted this next five minutes over. Mike could take his prosperous, golden boy looks and get back to whatever life he’d been leading these last ten years. It wasn’t going to shake up my life he’d chosen to move back to Northfield.

  Mike waited politely until I sat in my desk chair before he took a nearby chair. After I endured a moment of his silence while he stared at me without speaking, I frowned and motioned for him to get on with it.

  He sat forward, hands lightly rubbing up and down on the tops of his thighs. “I’ll get right to the point. I have come across some information that reflects on what happened all those years ago…” I started to get up, but he talked louder, “No, wait Bel. I know we never spoke of that time and you don’t want to now, but please, hear me out comp
letely. Please?”

  Reluctantly, I sat back down and lifted my chin. “Hurry up then.”

  Mike didn’t visibly react to my impatience. His voice was calm. “I have a lawyer friend that works for the D.A.’s office back in Atlanta where I have been living for the past five years. She called me a month ago, and in the course of our conversation was telling me about a recent rape case she was prosecuting. What made it unique; she was prosecuting a woman accused by the man of raping him. With the rise of easily obtained date rape drugs, apparently this is not unheard of.” He nervously got up and leaned back against the closed door, stuffing his hands in the pocket of his jacket. I was such a terrible hostess; he still had his coat on. “The more details of the case she divulged, the more interested I became.” He met my eyes with a direct look. Warily, I realized his were burning with some emotion other than nervousness and that I really hadn’t been listening much to his actual words. “I’ve always been stymied at what possessed me to cheat on you with Candy MacKenzie. I didn’t like her and I seriously did not harbor some secret, sexual desire for her. Point of fact, it was the direct opposite.”

  Mike moved from the door and came over to stand by my chair. Gazing down at me, there was sincerity written all over his smoothly shaven, handsome face. My snarkiness disappeared. It was replaced by a roaring in my head. Now that I was really paying attention, it was clear this story could only be heading in one direction.

  He shrugged one shoulder and faintly smiled. “I was in love with you. I’ve lived with the knowledge that I cheated on you, someone I loved and planned to marry. At twenty, I pictured our future together. You were going to own this store and I was going to be the next Alan Dershowitz.” His voice went quieter. “You were going to have my babies and teach them to read inappropriate novels by age three. I’d teach them how to skateboard and ride bikes because you’d kill yourself, and them, if you did. We’d both teach our kids how to cheat at cards, but only so they’d recognize cheaters.” He paused, and I had to look down. I stared at my clenched hands as he continued, “I’ve beat myself up for years for destroying our life in a moment of weakness I don’t even recall. That night was a blurry nightmare. I haven’t touched a drop of alcohol since that weekend. How could I? What if I did it again, and had sex with a stranger or attacked some woman unknowingly?”

  Mike sat on the edge of my desk, facing me. Honesty radiated from his voice and filled the air around me. “Anabel, all these years and it’s never made sense. I thought it had to be because I was blackout drunk, even though I would have sworn I didn’t have more than three or four beers. Why else would I have done such a ridiculously stupid thing? I’m now convinced, without a doubt; Candy drugged my beer. I think I have proof.”

  Mike once again stopped talking. This time it was because I stood up and did something in one fluid motion that flabbergasted us both.

  I kissed him.

  I didn’t need proof. Instinctually, I knew with a conviction born of certainty that everything he had said was the absolute truth. It all clicked into place and it was that simple. After ten years of my world being sideways and wrong, it was suddenly righted.

  All during that day from hell, and the weeks and months that followed, my heart and my gut screamed at me it couldn’t be true. I wanted desperately to be justified in my belief of Mike’s honorable character, but how can you doubt the evidence of your own sister’s eyewitness account from two feet away? Instead, I had to deal with the repercussions that someone I chose to love proved how mistaken I was to trust in my own instincts. I had felt worthless and degraded knowing he had sex with Candy. Now, I could only imagine what Mike had gone through back then.

  Like Mike, once I heard this news, there wasn’t a shred of doubt in my mind Candy had drugged him a decade ago on that fateful weekend. She’d viciously instigated the event that made our young, happy lives go careening off course in separate, miserable directions.

  It was the smallest of innocent kisses, no more than a soft, tender lingering of my lips against his. There was no carnal intent. The impulsive kiss was a healing balm meant to soothe our shared years of sadness. It was meant only to demonstrate a connection that I also felt bad our life together had been so maliciously destroyed and we’d both been hurt.

  It was a kiss of forgiveness for us both.

  Somewhat numb, I sat abruptly back on my chair.

  Mike stayed still as a statue. He leaned on the desk next to me while his warm, caramel- brown eyes searched mine in growing wonder.

  He started smiling, and it kept spreading until it took over his whole face. His voice was rough with emotion when he stated, “You believe me.”

  “I do believe you.”

  He jumped up and threw his fist, punching the air. “My God, that’s fantastic! I can’t believe it was that easy.” He paced the small room. “I was prepared to present my whole case with every shred of proof, and I thought you’d still end up doubting me.” He frowned anxiously. “You’re not pretending so that I’ll leave faster, right?”

  I pointedly looked at the clock. “You have two minutes left.”

  Arms outspread; Mike threw back his head and started laughing ebulliently. He came over and reached for my hands, pulling me out of the chair.

  Whirling me about, he was beaming. “I love it! You’re still a smart-ass!”

  I smiled at his joyful demeanor at my faith in his words. It was incredibly strange to be facing Mike without thinking he was The Betrayer. The twists and turns life could throw your way were astounding. One minute, Mike McClain was a distant memory of a young, cheating asswipe I was stupid enough to believe in. The next minute, he was standing before me as a grown man. He was not only redeemed, but he was a victim of a sex crime by one of my family members. It was a bizarre personal betrayal at a level much worse than any I suffered. The sheer unexpectedness weirdness of it all had me spinning in my head, as well as around the office with Mike.

  Suddenly, he stopped. He gripped my elbows to steady me when I stumbled against him. He didn’t let go, but pulled me in closer.

  “Before you decide not to hate me any longer, I’ll tell you what action I’m seriously contemplating as my next step. I’ve decided after seeing you again, it’s important to me that you agree I’m doing the right thing.”

  Uncomfortable with being so close, I stood back a step out of his embrace and crossed my arms over my chest. I met his eyes. “What action?”

  Mike’s face hardened. “I’ve been advised to bring a civil suit against Candy. I’m planning on suing her for rape.”

  It was my turn to laugh with ebullience. I twirled him around the room.

  Chapter XXI

  “We Are Family” by Sister Sledge

  Sunday, 11/18/12

  4:00 PM

  The dining room table I’d reluctantly inherited from NanaBel when I bought the apartment was monolithic. Without leaves, it sat fourteen. When fully extended, it opened to seat twenty-four comfortably. I cannot carry the heavy leaves on my own. I’d have to hack the brute to pieces with an axe to get it out of the apartment.

  I didn’t do anything formal for my Sunday night dinners. It was all about coming together for comfort food and relaxing. Tonight, the long sideboard in the dining room was set up as a self-serve buffet.

  My only rule at these Sunday dinner parties was no fighting. I smirked while loading a few dirty dishes into the dishwasher. I had a feeling I’d be breaking my own rule tonight.

  I turned back to the crowd sitting on stools around the granite island in my kitchen. They were keeping me company while I finished preparing our dinner. Crookie had stopped to pick up corn chips and salsa from a CoOp in Apple Valley, swearing they made the best salsa in town. Reggie and Jazy, mouths stuffed full, were in fervent agreement.

  I had hurried Mike out of the apartment when his five minutes was up. We agreed to get together on Tuesday after the store closed at eight to talk more details, and to catch up on our lives. After giving me a long, t
ight hug, Mike had left whistling out the front door.

  Happy as I was Mike was exonerated from being an evil dickhead; it was a lot to take in. With everything else going on, I needed time to process. My mind could only handle so much mayhem and I needed to prioritize. My current top priority was slowly savoring the thought of my cousin Candy being sued publically for rape. I was hugging this thought close to my heart like a girl with a secret love letter.

  ‘Wait, I had one of those, too!’

  Thinking of the envelope now stashed in my dresser drawer, I came to the conclusion maybe this weekend didn’t completely blow after all.

  I had gotten Crookie and his gear squared away in the guest bedroom and was listening with half an ear to him and Reggie getting reacquainted. He seemed to be in good spirits.

  Crookie, being a logical guy, wanted to wait until everyone arrived to tell us all at once what his cop friend related about Cheryl’s murder. The details didn’t need to stay secret, but he and I agreed we wouldn’t say it was a cop who had told him. It was easy to ramp down my curiosity for now. I was still pretty freaked at the thought of Jack boinking Cheryl, and was almost afraid to hear anything more pointing to Jack as a suspect. I wasn’t sure how Chief Jack was going to take Crookie discussing details of an open murder case, but last I checked it’s still a free country.

  Tre J, Jaz, and James Byrd were talking on my right. They were getting to know Stella’s friend, but not yet a boyfriend, Eric George Jasnik. He was younger, only about twenty, but laughed in all the right places and carried himself with a friendly maturity and confidence.