CHAPTER THIRTY
“You’re going to have to do something about this problem, because it’s serious now,” Allyson said.
“I realize that. I am going to do something,” Nicole replied.
“Would you mind telling me what? Something terrible could have happened to him today, six years old and gallivanting all over Miami. I would have been responsible. I feel terrible now. I would never be able to forgive myself if anything happened to Trey.”
“It’s more my fault,” Nicole said glumly. “I’m sorry for yelling at you before, but I was kind of upset…”
Trey had been sent to bed earlier than usual as part of his punishment. It was now rather late. Allyson had just returned from the shop a half-hour ago, and Nicole had lost the rest of the evening at work, much to the ire of the nursing staff.
“What are you going to do? Allyson pressed. “If he’s going to keep doing this running away thing, I can’t keep him at the shop. I have to work too.”
“I’m going to quit my job,” Nicole said. “I have enough savings to hold us for a while, but eventually we’ll be returning home to Chicago.”
Allyson sighed. “I was hoping you’d come up with something better than that.”
“Like what? If you’re thinking I should go running back to Julian…”
“No.” She sighed again. “I realize that even if you did that, it’s only a temporary fix. It’s not like you and Julian were engaged or something.”
Nicole laughed, although she felt sick. “Julian needs a Cuban wife. It might also help if she’s a psychology major.”
Allyson smirked. “Whatever. Look, don’t quit your job. I can put up with Trey a little longer. I can keep the door locked from the inside, so he can’t get out. I’ll pay more attention to him.”
Nicole wrung her hands together. “This is awful. I just don’t know what to do anymore. Every decision I make is wrong.”
“Give it some more time,” Allyson urged. “I know you can’t really want to go back to Mom and Dad.”
“Another week. I’ll give this mess another week, and that’s it. I have the feeling that if I don’t resign from my job, I might end up getting fired. I’ve been late every day.”
Allyson switched on the evening news. “Maybe next week will be better.” Nicole flopped down on the couch. “I don’t think it could get much worse.”
* * *
She was wrong. On Monday, Trey was expelled from school for almost setting his desk on fire. No one knew where he had gotten the matches. The same afternoon, Nicole approached her supervisor, informing her of her resignation. The response surprised her. No one wanted her to quit. Everyone on the board insisted that she take an extended leave of absence instead. They told her that she was one of their best, that they didn’t want to lose her.
Touched that at least someone appreciated her, Nicole took the leave and determined that she would spend all her time with Trey and home school him. The teaching staff at the school he’d been expelled from suggested more psychological evaluations of him, but she had no faith left in psychiatrists. He had seen so many in the past that it was pointless. She believed his atrocious behavior right now was a cry for attention, and now he would get it.
During the week, a large package was delivered to her. It turned out to be Trey’s guitar. She started to put it away in the closet, but instead she left it out in the living room without saying anything to him about it. Trey noticed, and while he didn’t reclaim it, he didn’t try to destroy it either.
Her mother called, and after asking about Trey, the first thing she mentioned was the Julian affair. Nicole had only hinted at the recent problems with Trey, assuming she would tell her more when they were together, but she blurted out everything about Julian, including the fact that he was famous and wealthy. It didn’t matter what she said about him now, since they were over. For once in her life, her mother was silent for a good three minutes, never interrupting her as she talked.
“I…I don’t know what to say. I had no idea,” she finally said. “Nicole, why didn’t you tell me all this before? Your father is going to be shocked.”
“It’s awful, isn’t it? Imagine going to dinner and being treated like that. You were right, Mom. I should have lis—”
“Your father did say he had a feeling about Julian, that there was something special about him. I know he has a beautiful voice, but famous?”
“Mother!” Nicole exclaimed, mortified as it dawned on her that her normally holier-than-thou mother was taking her tale of humiliation lightly. “Did you hear anything I said?”
“I heard you, dear. It’s a shame that that had to happen.” She hesitated for a moment. “But I don’t see why you and Julian can’t still be friends. Trey loves him so much.”
Nicole felt the urge to hang up the phone, either that or start laughing. “I don’t think Dad will feel that way.” She bit her lip. I hope I’m not wrong, she thought.
“I do understand how you feel,” her mother said. “But you have to realize that we’re all just human, we all make mistakes. It’s Julian’s sister who has the problem. Why should you let her—”
“Mom, I’m sorry I told you any of this,” Nicole interrupted. “You’re only making allowances and excuses for Julian because he’s who he is.”
“Is that what you think I’m doing?”
“Isn’t it?”
“Nicole, I don’t know how to talk to you anymore. You get offended so easily. I do know one thing, though. You’re my daughter and I know for a fact that you are in love with him. I’ve never seen you this way since Warren. I don’t really have any advice to give you except that you have to follow your heart. I do want you to be happy.”
I didn’t realize I was asking for advice, Nicole thought. “I know, Mom, but the heart is…”
“Treacherous,” her mother filled in. “That’s why I married your father. That’s why I’m still with him after forty years.”
Nicole surrendered and laughed.
“Make sure you and Trey come home for the holiday. I asked your sister, but she’s got other plans.”
“We’ll be there,” Nicole said. I definitely don’t have other plans.
* * *
“Julian, there’s something I want to ask you,” Luis said late in the evening.
“What?” Julian was on his way out of the studio and had come up through the office section. He was surprised that Luis hadn’t gone home.
“In here.” Luis indicated his office. Julian stepped in.
“There’s something we have to discuss, but first, are you and Elena at it again?”
“Hardly. I haven’t spoken to her since Thanksgiving.”
Luis sat down at the desk and rubbed his eyes. “Oh, then I guess she’s just upset about the maid.”
Julian glanced impatiently toward the door. “What maid? What’s this got to do with me?”
Luis laughed. “Nothing. One of the maids, the German one, quit this morning for no reason.”
Julian was about to ask him to get to the point, but instead he started at the revelation. “You’re kidding. Gretchen’s been with us for years.”
“I know. I guess that’s why Elena’s upset.”
Julian became impatient again. “Elena’s always upset. What are you really after?”
“Any reason why you canceled that interview tonight?”
“I’m not in the mood. No big deal,” Julian replied.
“I’m starting to worry about you,” Luis said. “Things aren’t going right.”
“I know, I know. The album should be wrapped up by now. The big chief at Vista Records is going ballistic.”
“That’s only part of the problem. Would you just sit down for a few minutes?” Luis indicated the chair facing his desk, and Julian sat. “Something is wrong. Suddenly your heart doesn’t seem to be in this project. You’re canceling interviews, being sarcastic with everyone, and worse, you’re drinking.”
Julian laughed and glanced
up at the fluorescent lights on the ceiling. “That’s quite a revelation. I’m not drunk, though. Takes an awful lot to get me high.”
Luis sighed. “Is that something to be proud of?”
“Yes. It’s one of the crowning achievements of my existence.”
“You’re being sarcastic again. Look, I know something is bothering you. It’s related to that young lady you invited over for Thanksgiving, isn’t it?”
Julian shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. We broke up. People do it all the time.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve been meaning to apologize to you on Elena’s behalf. She—”
“Will you stop apologizing for her!” Julian shouted. “You’ve been doing it ever since I was a little kid. Elena isn’t sorry.”
“You know it’s an insecurity thing. She can’t help it,” Luis said.
“I don’t care about Elena’s insecurity problems right now. She isn’t even the issue here. I’m tired of this business, tired of everything.”
Luis took a deep breath and searched Julian’s eyes. “What do you want to do about it?”
“I don’t know yet. I need space, time to think.”
“That shouldn’t be too big a problem,” Luis said calmly. “Go away for a few weeks. How about Aruba? It’s quiet and relax—”
Julian interrupted by standing up and angrily pounding his fist on the desk “Who the hell am I supposed to go away with, huh? Some gorgeous, empty-headed bimbo? Or are you and Elena going to arrange an escort? Does Lydia sound good to you too?”
Luis stood up. “I have never felt that way and you know it. Your personal life is your own business as far as I’m concerned. Why don’t you try to patch things up with…with Nicole?”
“I can’t. She’s not speaking to me. Do you blame her?” He started to leave the room, then paused. “It’s my own fault for exposing her to our warm, loving family.”
“How about if I try to talk Elena into apologizing to her,” Luis suggested.
Julian laughed. “I don’t know about you, Luis. I think you’ve been married to my sister too long. You’re getting as crazy as she is. Even if you were able to talk her into it, she wouldn’t mean it. Nicole isn’t stupid. She can detect an insincere apology.”
Luis shook his head. “Maybe you should…”
The telephone rang and Luis picked it up. Julian left the room while he was talking. He needed to get outside in the air. He didn’t usually get headaches, but right now one seemed to be coming on. He couldn’t get out of that stifling building soon enough.
It had started to rain outside, a damp, misty kind of rain. Julian glanced at his watch as he got in the car. It was ten p.m. and the sky was pitch black and starless. Downtown Miami was illuminated with sparkling red, green and silver Christmas lights. Under different circumstances, he’d have found the festive decorations appealing, but now they looked garish and tacky.
He started driving, leaving all the lights of the town behind, until he lost all track of direction and didn’t have a clue where he was going. The road he found himself on was a fairly deserted, two-lane stretch of winding asphalt. The only lights seemed to be coming from his car and those few in the opposite lane.
He thought about his past and future. There didn’t seem to be a future. How much more entertaining and traveling could one man do? How much longer could he touch millions of people and never feel the warmth of a genuine embrace himself?
The speedometer indicated 80. It didn’t feel like he was speeding. He felt like he was just doing 55. He knew he wasn’t drunk, because he hadn’t had a drink since early in the morning and he could really use one right now. Any bar would do.
Don’t do it, the reassuringly familiar voice of his father whispered in his ear. You have the opportunity to nip this bad habit right in the bud, now. Weak and hopeless people need crutches. I didn’t teach you to be weak and you’re certainly not hopeless. You are not like your mother.
The urge started to diminish. A hopeless alcoholic was not the image he had of himself either. The last thing he wanted was to become the stereotypical celebrity checking in and out of rehab centers. Death before dishonor seemed a lot more appealing.
As the car whipped around the curves, he opened the window and felt the lash of the raindrops on his face. “Slow down,” he told himself, noting that the speedometer now registered 85. He wasn’t really ready to die yet. There were still other things left to do. So what if he didn’t get everything he wanted? Strong people learned to settle, to adapt. Lydia wanted to marry him regardless of his flaws. He would never feel for her what he felt for Nicole, but he could manage. They would have a family and he definitely would love their children, that was a sure thing.
Suddenly as he was about to decelerate, blinding headlights loomed at the peak of the curve in the road. Instinctively he focused his eyes to the side, but the headlights persisted. They were coming right at him, head on. Julian did not have time to sound the horn; his last conscious moments were spent steering hard to the right. He felt the brakes clicking, screaming, and the car hydroplaning, sliding right off the road. He had a sudden, bizarre out of body experience as if he were watching this happen to someone else. Then he heard a loud crash, and saw a billion flashes of light before blackness enveloped him.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Nicole felt numb as she positioned herself in the doorway of the waiting room of the intensive care unit. Johnson Memorial was a much larger hospital than the one she worked in and the lack of intimacy made the nightmarish scene even more unbearable. There were at least twenty people in the room, milling around, talking in muffled tones. Among the crowd, she recognized Luis sitting on the couch with his arm around Amanda. The child was crying.
Fighting back rising waves of panic, Nicole resisted the powerful urge to turn around and run away from the scene. She saw herself on that couch, holding Trey, trying helplessly to comfort him. She saw the doctor walk in, grim-faced. “We’re doing everything we can, Mrs. Evans, but your husband might not make it. His injuries are extremely critical.”
“Hey,” a familiar voice said quietly. She looked up and recognized Julian’s friend, Wade.
“I’m glad you came,” he said.
“They wouldn’t let me go in,” Nicole said, aware of the strained sound of her own voice. “How is he doing?”
“I wasn’t allowed in either,” Wade said. “It’s only family. They’re telling me he banged himself up pretty bad, but the injuries aren’t that serious. The problem is that he’s been unconscious since they brought him in last night.”
Nicole shuddered. That was not a good sign. “Who’s in there with him now?”
“His sister.”
Nicole winced. “That’s a comforting thought.”
“Maybe if you go over and talk to Luis, he might let you go in,” Wade suggested. “I don’t see how it could hurt.”
“I can’t, not now. I certainly don’t want to cause any confusion at this time. I’m going out a minute. I know one of the interns who works on this floor. I’ll try to find out more about his condition from her.”
Nicole left abruptly. As she went down the hall she felt dizzy. The walls seemed to be closing in around her. Oh, God, please don’t let this happen again, she prayed. Please, not Julian. If I can have him back I’ll never leave him again no matter what. She stopped in her tracks. What am I praying? I never had him in the first place. She thought about it. It was true, but she still meant every word she had silently uttered.
There was actually no need to consult with Sabrina Wright, her intern friend, because she had done that already. She knew the extent of Julian’s injuries—three fractured ribs, torn ligaments in his left knee, a possible back injury and head trauma. He’d been stitched up and taken to X-ray where he’d undergone various brain scans and MRIs. There didn’t appear to be any brain damage and the other injuries were considered minor, but no one could explain why he wasn’t waking up.
She had found out about the accide
nt from Maria, who had called her an hour ago, asking her if she had heard the news. She hadn’t, of course, and this time she’d been grateful that she was not the type who turned the radio on first thing in the morning. She had been preparing breakfast for Trey when she got the call and she’d taken it in her bedroom. It was not the sort of news she wanted him to hear.
It never even occurred to her that she should just call the hospital and ask for information on his condition. She knew she had to be there. Allyson, completely understanding, had called her friend Lynette to open the shop for her, and she was home now with Trey.
Feeling frustrated and helpless, Nicole stood in the hallway and looked out a window. Down below, she could see mobs of fans gathering, being kept back from the hospital’s entrance by policemen. They were waving get-well signs and banners that read, “We love you, Julian. We’re praying for you.” Nice, she thought, but bizarre. She clenched her hand in a fist around her pocketbook. She was more than just a fan, and she had a right to see him. With a new determination, Nicole left the hospital.
* * *
She returned late in the afternoon, wearing her nurse uniform. No one said anything. No one questioned or stopped her. She entered the intensive care unit quickly and passed the central nurses’ station that dominated the large room where patients clung tenaciously to life in adjoining cubicles. This area of the hospital did not respect wealth, celebrity or social status. Everyone lived or died in identical surroundings.
Nicole entered Julian’s cubicle and was relieved that he had no visitors at the moment. The sound of a ventilator and other apparatus clicking and beeping enveloped her. They were all familiar sounds, but so much more pronounced and poignant when they were sustaining the life of a loved one.
He didn’t look that bad. His face was turned toward the window and partially illuminated by the sunlight, which gleamed off his blue-black hair. A large white bandage was on his forehead, above his left eyebrow. She moved closer. A half-dollar size bruise of angry red and purple glared at her from his left cheekbone, marring his paler, but still mocha-colored skin.
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