by Leanne Davis
It was nothing like Joelle ever expected. Not her friendship with Erica Heathersby, or living in this wonderful place where she felt safe, secure, and most of all, free. She loved it, and treasured it, and basked in its healing properties.
Erica asked Joelle to be her roommate after explaining that she and Nick were done, still friends, but over. Erica’s offer gave her a choice and an alternative between Rob and her old life and the chance at a new one.
And that’s just what it turned out to be. Joelle took her meager belongings down to Erica’s condo. It was only a short elevator ride, and almost made Joelle laugh. Who’d have guessed that?
Erica had a home office, and a spare room, which she gave to Joelle. When Joelle unpacked in the pink and purple bedroom, she felt like it was the childhood bedroom she was always denied, but nevertheless longed for. This was a grown-up version. It had clean, white carpet, lavender window treatments, and a pink and lavender flower covered bedspread. It smelled of air freshener, fabric softener, and being new. Pure femininity.
After years of all the men, the harshness, the ugliness, the beer bottles and burps, Joelle’s world had become floral prints and fresh perfume. It represented all the softness, understanding, kindness and friendship, honest to God friendship, with Erica Heathersby, which was vastly improving her life.
Joelle’s tattoos and dark-haired goth looks, contrasted harshly against the soft world Erica managed to create in her condo. With Erica, everything was okay, and Joelle could be exactly who she was. Erica never made snide innuendos, or catty, hurtful, thoughtless remarks. She talked as though she really cared and didn’t judge or push. She was a friend, and a sister, like Joelle never imagined she’d ever meet or experience. How could Nick have let Erica go? But Erica seemed totally at peace with it, and even glad that Joelle chose to live with her.
Joelle didn’t understand the reasons why Erica asked her to stay there. Or why Erica wanted to help her. What Erica saw in her was beyond Joelle’s comprehension. Joelle knew that she was the lucky one, Erica the crazy one. But she needed to use this chance to start a new and different life, more than she ever needed anything. She could never repay Erica for all the kindness and generosity Erica happily showed toward her.
Joelle went to work and found little fuss was made about her bruised face. The car accident kept people from pressing, and seemed quite believable. Except for Bev. She eyed Joelle with her lips pursed, and her eyes said she knew better. But she kindly, thankfully kept her thoughts to herself. This time, Joelle came to work well fed, well slept, and well rested. She’d never gotten up to go to work feeling so good before. Or so comfortable. She was glad to be there. And glad, for once, to go home. Most of all, she was glad to be accountable to no one. Even Erica didn’t even keep tabs on her.
Joelle started going downtown more often. Exploring an area of upscale money and commerce, at which she’d formerly turned her nose up, and called commercial and shallow, now seemed interesting and fun. She went into pretty coffee houses and quaint cafes. She explored the shops, wading through clothes she’d never buy, interior decorating items she’d never use, along with yarn stores, and hobby stores she’d never heard of, but nonetheless enjoyed browsing in. It was interesting and different and it took her away from herself.
She ate out sometimes, and frequented upscale bars that didn’t hurt her ears with piercing music and thick smoke. She sat at tables all alone for the first time in her life. Sometimes she even brought her work with her. Others, she just sat there, observing the world around her. The key was: she was by herself. And to her continuing shock, and delight, that was okay.
She didn’t hate anything. There was nothing to dread, nothing she felt she had to survive. It was quiet. Her entire life had become quiet. And it was beautiful. She felt free, and what? Nothing. She felt nothing sometimes. Just the pleasure of going through her day, her schedule, and her routine. After months of hopeless depression, fatigue, and utter dread of going home, suddenly, she felt nothing. She passed Nick sometimes at work. But he was back at his role, in his sphere. He was Nick at a distance again. Nick as her boss, the serious, tight-assed, powerful CEO who didn’t have time for young, weird, little girls like her.
She was glad of that. Glad to be left alone. No reasons or explanations necessary. To anyone. To Nick. To Rob. To Erica. Even to herself. She had nothing and no one to explain herself to or fight against to survive.
She was free for the first time in her life, and it didn’t hurt. That was most important. It didn’t hurt her. It didn’t confuse her. She was just there. Wonderfully, quietly, there.
****
One day, Joelle opened Erica’s front door and found Spike standing there. It was a cool, cloudy Saturday and Joelle was at home, enjoying the luxury of free time. She’d lately tried some knitting, but it didn’t go as well as she hoped. She decided to see about taking a class, after spotting an advertisement for knitting classes at a tiny shop down the street.
She was disappointed to have her day interrupted by a face from her past. By any of them. By men, in general. She feared that Rob sent Spike to check up on her, and see if she was with Nick, no doubt. Joelle sighed, she didn’t want any drama in her life right now.
“Can I come in?”
“Rob tell you I was here?”
“Yes. May I?”
Joelle opened the door wider and allowed Spike’s thin frame to pass through. He almost had to dip his head under the doorway. His long, black coat billowed around him like the dark cape of a super hero, or villain. Most people would assume he was a villain. He had such extremely sharpened hair, extreme makeup, extreme everything, but Joelle knew he was just hiding from everyone and everything. Even his name. He was Spike so he could forget his former identity as Spencer Mattox, and the life Spencer had to endure until he was sixteen years old.
Spike wore black, as usual. His hair, however, wasn’t quite as dramatic; spiked, of course, but not quite as sharp. His face was devoid of any goth makeup. He had no tattoos, because he preferred makeup. Joelle sometimes wondered what was wrong with all of them, the band members of Zenith, that they so felt the compulsion to fry their hair, color their faces, and permanently mar their bodies just to look different than everyone else. Why did they all try so hard to look freaky and scary, in order to push everyone else away from them?
Spike looked around the condo. “Is your friend here?”
“Who? Erica? No, she’s at the hospital. She’s a doctor, you know. Delivers babies.”
“She? Erica is who you’re living with now? Your boss’s girlfriend?”
“No. Erica and Nick broke up; and for some reason, she liked me, and asked me to live here.”
“Not surprising. You’re the only one who doesn’t like you.”
“And everyone would like you if you’d quit trying to scare them into submission at first glance.”
“I miss you.”
“Me too,” Joelle said, smiling. They’d always said exactly what they felt to each other. Something Rob and she never attained. Why was Spike so interested in Erica’s whereabouts? If Erica weren’t the complete everything that Spike loathed, she’d almost think he had an interest in her. But no, that was too far-fetched, even for Joelle to imagine.
“So, Spike, what brought you here?”
“It’s been three months, and Rob won’t talk about you. I gather things are no different.”
“No. They’re not. We’re separated.”
“Zenith is over. The band broke up. Mitch and Kenny moved out.”
“What? What do you mean over? You can’t give up on Zenith. Not like that. That’s all Rob has left.”
“That’s what was killing him, Joelle. It’s over. For now. Forever maybe. Whatever.”
Joelle let a breath out. God, she never intended for the band to break up, or for Rob’s dreams to crumble to dust. Ashes. Death.
Spike continued, “He’s been working every day at a car wash. I know it’s not much, but he’s been d
oing it all the same. And he’s been trying hard to keep clean. We even vacuumed the house. Emptied the trash, opened some windows. It’s... wow, it’s made a vast difference. Things were much worse than I realized.”
“Everything was worse than we all realized.”
“I should have been there for you. I should have intervened sooner, and prevented it from happening. I’m sorry for that.”
“I was there too, Spike, I didn’t stop it either. Any of it.”
“I just wanted you to know. After what you went through, and what we did to you, things have changed. Or at least, we’re making an effort to change them.”
“Thank you for telling me. But Zenith, you can’t give up on it. What about you?”
Spike shrugged. “I’ll be okay. Rob saved my life once by taking me away from my home, and letting me run away with him, and live on the streets. That actually saved my life. I’ve got to save Rob’s now. I can do that. Zenith isn’t worth his life. And that life will eventually kill him.”
“I know,” Joelle said softly. “I wish I could help, or be there; but I can’t.”
“No, Nick saved your life by getting you out. Just like Rob once saved me. Sometimes, leaving a situation is the best thing. Saves not only the person who leaves, but the one who was left behind. That’s you two. Just take care of yourself. That’s all I want for you. Not for Nick or Rob, or anyone else. Take care of yourself first. Always. Promise me that.”
“I am. For once, I am. And it’s going quite well. Surprisingly.”
“Not surprisingly. Like I said, only you don’t like you.”
“I’m getting there. I think.”
“I just wanted you to know things were a lot better. Don’t feel guilty, or bad, or look back at us. I’ll take care of Rob; you just take care of yourself.”
“Thank you,” she said, her throat closing with emotion. Spike didn’t have a clue how much he’d given her today: permission to heal, and not feel guilty at being relieved she wasn’t back home or dealing with Rob anymore.
After Spike left, Joelle leaned against the front door, trying to decide how she felt about Zenith ending. All those years, Zenith meant everything to her, to Rob, to Spike, and now, poof! It was nothing. It was done. Broken up. Rob’s failed mission, his talent wasted. God, it wasn’t fair.
But it wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t her fight. Not right now, it wasn’t. Maybe it never would be again, or maybe it would be in a month. She didn’t know. Not yet. She only knew she wasn’t ready to go back yet, or to move forward. She was just living in the present, for herself, and no one else.
****
“Joelle how’d you like to come to a party with me?”
Joelle put down the long, gray knitting needles with three inches of yarn trailing off them. She just finished unraveling three rows, at Erica’s unexpected interruption. Somehow, she knew that Erica’s idea of going to a party wouldn’t be the same as the parties Zenith used to have.
“What party?”
“Oh, just a pool party.”
“Who goes to pool parties?”
Erica laughed her breezy laugh, flashing her white teeth. “Kids do. It’s Nick’s niece’s birthday, and they’re having a giant pool party in the condo’s pool. I was invited. One of Nick’s sister’s, Rebecca, and I are pretty friendly. She’s a patient of mine, and she invited me.”
“Is that how you met Nick?”
“Yes. She introduced us. Anyway, I thought you might like to come.”
Joelle wondered on how many levels she could say no. She learned shortly after moving in with Erica, that the building they lived in had a lap pool, used by both Erica and Nick for daily workouts, to maintain their long, lean, toned bodies and stay looking as great as they did. Joelle never went there, as swimming wasn’t her thing. To her, exercise consisted of walking in and out of the office. But attending a party for Nick’s niece, while accompanying Nick’s ex-girlfriend, and all the while Trina, her ex-bestie was there, looking on? No way.
“Don’t get all worried. Nick thought it was a good idea. Actually, it was Nick’s idea.”
“You asked Nick? You talk to Nick?”
“Sure. We broke up. We weren’t exiled into leper colonies. We pass each other here and there and talk. Anyway, come on, Joelle. I think a bit of fun would do you good.”
“I don’t have a swimsuit.”
“You do, too! I saw it in your drawer.”
“Okay, but it’s a bad idea. Trina hates me. I ditched her when we were younger.”
“The way I heard it, she quit talking to you when you ended up in foster care, at the point when you needed her support and friendship the most.”
“Did Nick tell you that?”
“Of course, he did.”
“Great. What doesn’t Nick know about me?”
Erica smiled. “You’re coming. You’ve been avoiding him long enough.”
“Why would I be avoiding Nick?”
“I don’t know, why would you? Besides if you don’t go, it will appear to others as very obvious you’re avoiding him, and wouldn’t that be more of a big deal than just going?”
Joelle glared at Erica and Erica laughed. “It’s Saturday afternoon at two o’clock. That couldn’t possibly steal you away from too many other critical engagements.”
Joelle found herself going to a birthday party she dreaded. But Erica had a point, if she didn’t go, it might look like she couldn’t face Nick, and she could. She had to. She was in no position to indulge weird or unexplained feelings for another man, a man who happened to be her boss. Especially since she still had to figure out what she wanted from her own husband. She had absolutely no room, nor any desire for anyone else in her life, much less, Nick Lassiter.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Nick entered the large room, with a domed roof of glass that looked up to the sky, under which their building’s five-lane pool glistened invitingly. The water was unnaturally blue, and looked very alluring. The Lassiter family had gatherings like no other family that Nick knew of. No holidays or birthdays ever went uncelebrated, unclucked over, or were not totally over the top. Today’s party was prompted by his sister, Sophie’s, oldest daughter who was turning thirteen. Poppy was all legs, and rather coltish in her one-piece bathing suit. She was elevated to almost hero status by her cousins just for becoming a teenager. Nick groaned inwardly at that fact. He couldn’t quite believe one of his nieces was already so old. Balloons, presents, and a cake were all set up on a card table in the corner, while myriad girls in confetti-colored swimsuits splashed and screamed in the water.
“Nick, there you are,” his mother said as he came in. Nick wrapped a long arm around her. She was several inches shorter. He kissed her plump cheek, below her perfectly curled and sprayed brown hair. “Sorry I’m a few minutes late, I was on the phone.”
“You work too much, Nicky. But I know better than to pry. What else have you been up to? It seems I’ve hardly heard a word from you.”
He hadn’t been nearly as diligent toward his mother, or his sisters, as he usually was. He buried himself in work, happily isolated and away from all women. And in all honesty, the break actually felt nice.
“How about dinner on Tuesday?”
“Well, it might be nice to get out. All right, it’s a date. And you’re forgiven,” she said, smiling.
He smiled back. He was predictably putty in any of their hands if they needed or wanted something from him. Even his valuable time.
“So where’s Erica?” his mother asked unexpectedly.
Christ, they wouldn’t let Erica go. They probably invited her here. They were all convinced long ago that Erica was his soul mate, his only match in life, and they had yet to accept he’d been dumped by her.
“Mom we–”
He was interrupted by the pool doors opening and a rush of cool air chilling the humid entry. There stood Erica… with Joelle trailing behind, although her pace seemed rather sluggish. Nick nearly groaned out loud. No! Not
both of them! He should have known Erica would accept the invitation and probably drag Joelle along. Joelle didn’t look any happier about being there than Nick was to see her. They were, as of late, beyond awkward with each other. They left things between them weird. They were not friends, but what? That was the crux of their discomfort in each other’s presence; and the easiest solution to that problem was mutual avoidance.
Nick stared at Joelle, noting her face was back to normal. All the bruising, even the last yellowish twinge was gone; leaving her face shining, normal, and healthy. It was a beautiful sight. She also left off most of her usual makeup. Her face was scrubbed clean, and as pretty as any Nick had ever seen.
She wore a black cover-up over what he assumed was a swimsuit. Of course, it was black; was anything she owned not black? Clutching a white towel at her middle, she appeared to be protecting herself. As always. Even there. Then her eyes met his, and they exchanged a long, intense gaze, before she looked away, blushing. How could a girl with tattoos and piercings in odd places blush simply from mere eye contact?
“Hello, Nick. How are you?” Erica said as she came up to him. Her long body was outlined by a pretty, white-flowered swimsuit. She kissed his cheek and he smiled and responded in kind. They were already both at ease with each other over being broken up.
The only one ill at ease was Joelle. She was nearly hiding behind Erica’s long body and kept her eyes glued to the concrete floor in front of her. Nick waited for her to look up. Finally, after the silence stretched on far too long, she did. He lifted the corner of his mouth in a half smile. “Hey, Joelle.”
She swallowed, nodded, and aimed her eyes at the pool, studying his nieces with such intense interest, it made it painfully obvious how forced her reaction was.