The Paradise Box Set

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The Paradise Box Set Page 21

by Pike, Leslie


  “Of course.”

  “You’re welcome to stay at my place, Carl. I’ve got everything you could need there. We could send one of the production cars for your things.”

  “Oh no. Thanks honey, I’m staying in Finn’s room at the hotel. Albie said I could stay there as long as I need to.”

  “Ok. But if Finn needs care when he gets released, you can both stay at my cottage. I’ll be with Steven.”

  “You’ve always been such a good girl, Bliss. Mary’s smiling.”

  I can hear him start crying. It’s been a long day for him.

  “She’s watching over your boy. Remember that, Carl.”

  After we disconnect, I sit still for a minute, looking at Steven. I hope Mary’s watching over my boy too. I say a little prayer asking her to protect two men with the power of a mother’s love.

  * * *

  SHIT!!!

  I’m startled awake by the sound of Steven’s voice. His angry, pain-filled voice.

  Two nurses are trying to sit him up. He’s in such intense pain he’s resisting their attempts.

  “Stop! This isn’t working.”

  “Try to relax Mr. French. You’re making it worse!”

  “You relax,” he says.

  He spots me standing and staring. But he doesn’t say anything to me.

  “Give me some fucking pain medication!”

  “We’re transitioning you to one now. Your last morphine dose is still in your system. Another hour and we’ll be able to administer the new medication.”

  “I saw the doctor in the hall. He should be here shortly.”

  Just as she says this, the doctor walks in.

  “Good morning, Mr. French.”

  He doesn’t wait for an answer, but looks to me instead, with a stupid smirk on his face.

  “Are you Mrs. French?”

  “No. I’m Steven’s girlfriend, Bliss.”

  There it is. I see that moronic expression some men get when they hear my name. This guy is making me itch.

  He turns to his patient.

  “See, you better get well fast. You’ve got this beautiful woman to take care of.”

  He thinks he’s the cleverest wit in the room. Steven looks at him with such disgust, it’s a wonder the asshole doesn’t wither from the impact.

  “Ok, let’s see what we’re working with.”

  He comes to the bedside and tries to tap Steven’s knee. Nothing. I see no reaction. He tries the other one. There’s a slight movement with that one. He moves each leg up and down. There’s pain with one leg. He comes around the back and opens Steven’s gown. He pokes and pushes and with each touch, Steven winces with pain.

  “Did you have any trouble with your catheter last night?” the doctor says.

  “No. I couldn’t even tell it was in. That fucking morphine did its job.”

  The doctor closes the gown.

  “Ok, sit him back.”

  That is just as bad, if not worse than when they sat him up.

  “So here it is, Mr. French. Your results showed you definitely have a herniated disc. It’s pinching a nerve in your lumbar region. Your nerve root is compressed from the disc. You have the referred pain down your leg which also should be relieved by surgery.”

  “What kind of surgery?” Steven says.

  “I’m recommending a Microdisectomy. We remove …”

  We’re interrupted by Jack and Nicki, who walk in the room. Jack makes a gesture saying they’ll come back.

  “No. Come in. The doctor is just telling me about my surgery.”

  I can see the doctor’s concentration has been broken by the arrival of Jack. He extends his hand to him.

  “Hello, I’m Doctor Bennett.”

  He’s puffing his little chest out.

  “Hello, doctor. Don’t let me interrupt.”

  “As I was saying, in the surgery, the herniated portion of bone is removed. I’ll remove a small portion of the bone, over the nerve root and disc, to relieve the impingement. That will make more room for the nerve to heal.”

  “What kind of a recovery should I expect?”

  “You should have immediate pain relief, but I don’t want you to do any bending, lifting, twisting, nothing for six weeks. Basically, you’ll be house bound for a couple of months. You’ll need help with your care.”

  “I can do that,” I say.

  “I have a film to direct at the beginning of January. I’ll be good for that, right?”

  “Do you have trouble counting, Mr. French? No, you won’t be able to do that. Unless you want to be back here for another surgery.”

  “Quit being a dick. He’s asking you a question. Be a man, and answer him with some respect,” says Jack.

  Oh shit. Everyone’s holding their breath. Even Steven. But instead of storming out, the doctor backpedals.

  “I’m just trying to lay it out. If he wants to recover successfully from this injury, he needs to follow my instructions. No disrespect intended.”

  “What are the possible side effects from the surgery?” Steven says.

  “There’s always risks involved with every surgery, but this particular one has a relatively low risk side. But, you could suffer nerve root damage, bowel or bladder incontinence, bleeding, infection. And there’s always the anesthesia risk. We’ll have you look the risks over and sign a release. And remember, you also have a risk of side effects from the damage of the original injury. The injury can reoccur at any time, and you suffer a greater risk of permanent erectile dysfunction. The nerves involved are all in the same area. We’ll just have to wait and see with that.”

  He says that like he’s saying, “You may catch a cold.”

  Jack and Nicki turn and head for the door.

  “We’ll be back. This is private,” Nicki says.

  I watch Steven’s face. He’s just staring at the floor. Oh my God.

  The doctor makes a few notes, and turns to leave. “I’m going to check my schedule, but I think day after tomorrow works for me. Let the nurses know if the new pain meds don’t agree with you.”

  And with that, he’s gone. The nurses follow him out the door, and we’re alone.

  “Are you ok?”

  “Oh yeah, I’m just great,” he says, sarcastically.

  My mind is racing, looking for words of encouragement. Looking for something that doesn’t sound like bullshit. I’m having a hard time finding that.

  “You know, the doctors have to tell you the absolute worst scenario possible. It’s their job. So don’t think you’re going to have any of those side effects.”

  “You don’t know that,” he says.

  “Well no, I don’t know that for a fact, but I’m sure you’re going to be fine,” I respond.

  “What if I’m not? I can’t feel a fucking thing down there. What if I can never have sex with you again?”

  His eyes fill with tears, which completely pisses him off. He wipes them away, and somehow stops them completely.

  “Oh, honey,” I say.

  I go to his side and try to take his hand. He moves it away.

  “I’m tired, Bliss. I just want to be alone, and sleep. Do you mind?”

  He shuts his eyes and closes me out.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  STEVEN

  Another fucking day. I just lie here staring at the hospital room ceiling. But I don’t see it. I’m far away, already a resident in the hell that may become my entire life. Everything I know about myself, everything that makes up who I am may go. Maybe it’s gone already. I can’t stop the tape that’s playing on a loop in my head. No more sex, no more stunts, no more Bliss. No more sex, no more stunts, no more Bliss. That last one figurative and literal. What’s left?

  She’s trying to boost my spirits, but that almost makes me angry. You can’t talk this away. What if the worst happens? Just the thought of that kind of life is unbearable. If it happens, how will I be then? Who will I be?

  She’s out in the hall waiting for me to call for her.
I’m sure of it. Shit. This isn’t the time to let her know what I’ve decided. I’ll tell her when I get released. Until then, it’s best if I just go through the motions.

  But I know this, there’s no way in hell I’m going to have her as my “companion.” She’s thirty-six years old and has a whole lifetime of loving ahead. I won’t be the one who takes that from her. I love her too much.

  There’s a knock on the door. Jack walks in.

  “Hey, brother,” he says.

  “Hey.”

  “So what’s the latest? Has the doctor been in yet?”

  “No. I don’t really care if that asshole comes or not.”

  “Well, I did a little research. That little fucker is a brilliant surgeon, and you’re apparently lucky he’s going to be operating.”

  “Really? He has no bedside manner whatsoever. Cocksucker.”

  “So what? You want him to be a good conversationalist or good with the scalpel?”

  “True.”

  He looks at me. He knows me. He sees exactly how I’m feeling. “Steven, it’s going to be fine. Your pecker has nine lives. I think it’s only used a few of them. I mean you’ve put that thing through the ringer over the years. It’s an indestructible little fucker. No insult intended.”

  That makes me laugh a little.

  “Hey. On a different note, I have an awesome surprise for you. But, you’ll have to agree to go along with what I’m about to ask you.”

  “What is it?”

  “I’m going to bring someone to visit you tonight. Around seven. But I guarantee it will be a short visit.”

  “Come on, Jack. I don’t feel like visitors. I barely want Bliss here.”

  “But it’s your favorite. Caprice.”

  That shocks me. “No way. Are you fucking crazy?”

  “Just trust me. And be cordial. We need her to stay until this other thing happens.”

  “Jesus, Jack. What the hell? And what about Bliss? She won’t be happy about it.”

  “I’ve already talked to her. She doesn’t know what’s happening either. But she’s on board. Please do this for me, brother. You won’t regret it.”

  “Crap,” is all I say.

  Another knock on the door brings Bliss and Nicki. They’re carrying tall coffees for the four of us.

  As I take mine, the phone rings. Bliss answers for me.

  “Hello? Just a moment.”

  She brings the receiver to her chest.

  “It’s Bob Deeds.” I can tell she remembers who that is. I take the receiver.

  “Hello, Bob.”

  “Steven. How are you? We heard about your misfortune.”

  “I’m fine Bob. Just a little back surgery tomorrow and I’ll be back to work in a few weeks,” I lie.

  “I like your can-do spirit, Steven, but I don’t think you’re telling me the whole story. One of our producers is a good friend of Albie’s, and he said it’s more serious than you’re letting on. Aren’t you having a Microdisectomy tomorrow? That’s what I heard.”

  “Yes. But the doctor assures me …”

  He cuts me off.

  “I’m sorry, Steven. We can’t risk it. If the film is delayed or interrupted by your physical situation it would cost us millions. You understand that we have to find another director, don’t you?”

  “Yes. Of course I do. Well, hopefully we’ll work on a project together in the future.”

  “I’m sure we will. Take care, Steven. And good luck with your surgery.”

  Disconnect.

  I see the faces around me. No one knows exactly what to say. So they all start talking at once.

  “Hey, don’t worry. There’ll be another one,” says Jack.

  “This will give you a chance to really heal properly,” says Nicki.

  “I’m sorry, Steven,” says Bliss.

  To top off this awkward moment, in walks Finn.

  “Mornin’, friends. That is, I hope we’re still friends.”

  Don’t count on it.

  “Finn! How are you?” Jack says.

  The girls go to his side and gently touch his hands. Everything else looks like it hurts.

  “Finn, are you alright?” says Bliss.

  “I’m fine. How’s our lad doin’?”

  He looks at me, lying in the bed with a disgusted look on my face. I can’t help it. Everything’s going to shit.

  My back, my movie and especially my pecker. Meanwhile our Finn has escaped with minor scrapes. Not that I wish him harm. A few broken ribs are painful, and I’m sure the burns are too. But I’ll trade him. Any day.

  “I’m ok.”

  Period. That’s all I say.

  “I wanted to be tellin’ you how sorry I am. And I wanted to thank you for helpin’ me. I didn’t know it was still a hot set. I guess I didn’t hear Jinx make the call.”

  “I guess you didn’t,” I say.

  “I feel terrible that you were aidin’ me when you got hurt. I’m so sorry, Steven. Genuinely sorry.”

  I can see the three visitors are giving me looks that say, “Don’t be a prick.” But I can’t seem to say the words. I don’t forgive him. He did a stupid thing that cost me plenty. Fuck him.

  When ten seconds pass without me responding, Bliss speaks up. “It wasn’t your fault, Finn. Steven doesn’t blame you.” I stay silent.

  “Right then. I’ll be goin.’ I just wanted to stop in and see you. I’m getting released in a few hours. Take care. I’ll stop by and visit again tomorrow. Da’s here, Bliss. He’d love to see you.”

  “I’ll call him tomorrow. We’ll set up a visit before he goes back.”

  Jack, Nicki and Bliss say their goodbyes. I give an insincere half wave.

  After he leaves, my mood gets dark. I’m sure they thought it was bad before, but now I’m hardly talking.

  I wish they’d all leave, and they do. Bliss is the last to go. Before she walks out, she kisses me gently.

  “I’ll be back, baby. I know this has been a lot to take in. And I know you don’t believe me right now, but everything’s going to work out. This will all be behind us soon. I’ll see you later.”

  And she’s gone.

  Thank God it’s six forty-five already. Only three hours till my sleeping pill. Then I can shut out the world.

  * * *

  Bliss has been back for a few hours. About a half hour ago, she turned on the television. Usually, she just sits next to the bed, reading a magazine, or writing on her iPad. At least the sound of the television cuts down on my obligation to talk.

  Earlier, when I asked her about the HBO meeting, she said it had been rescheduled. I hope that’s true. If I thought I had cost her a chance at success, it would kill me.

  I’ll talk with Renee tomorrow and make sure she lets her contact know Bliss won’t be missing another appointment. I’ll just close my eyes, and push it all away.

  “Darling!!” That voice pierces my brain, and feels like a knife stabbing at my ear drum.

  Jack and Caprice enter the room. She comes to my side, and attempts to hug me. “Stop! I can’t move my back.” How stupid is she? I’m having spinal surgery tomorrow, and the woman wants to press her big tits against me in a bear hug.

  “Oh, I’m sorry Stefan!”

  She picks up my hand and kisses it.

  Bliss is remarkably calm and relaxed through this whole thing.

  What’s that about?

  “Hello, Caprice,” she says.

  Ok, now I know something’s up, and that Bliss is in on it.

  Caprice shifts her attention to Bliss for a moment.

  “Bella! Oh. You look tired.”

  Even this veiled insult doesn’t provoke Bliss. Interesting.

  “You’re right, Caprice. I’m tired and I look it.”

  Then Bliss laughs, as if a good friend had just shown concern.

  I can hardly wait to see what Jack has cooked up.

  “We thought we’d cheer you up before your surgery tomorrow. We won’t stay long. Caprice has
been worried sick. And she wanted to say goodbye to you before she leaves Pacific Grove,” says Jack.

  “Oh, that’s nice Caprice. I’m fine. Just out of commission for a while.”

  I’m going to do exactly as Jack instructed. I can be as fake as Jack and Bliss are being, if it’s for a good cause. Payback, I hope.

  “Darling, you out of commission? That’s laughable! I know that absolutely NOTHING can keep you down.”

  She cackles, amused at her own immature sense of humor.

  Suddenly, Jack points to the TV.

  “Bliss, turn that up!”

  Bliss quickly raises the volume.

  All our faces lift to the screen. It’s the program TMZ, and Jack’s picture alongside Nicki’s is on the screen.

  The familiar sound effects and flashy cuts are well known to Hollywood players. If you’re on this program, you either did something stupid, something wild, or something the public is hungry to see.

  The narrator explains.

  “Is Jack married? Looks like it’s true, ladies. And look at his beautiful wife!”

  “Son of a bitch. How did they find out?” Jack says.

  I know better. Jack wouldn’t give a flying fuck if the public knew he got married. He’s just happy he was able to pull off the wedding before they got wind.

  “Don’t worry, darling. All publicity is good publicity,” says Caprice.

  In the familiar setting of TMZ’s confab room, the young “reporters” talk about the stories of the day. Right now they’re talking about Jack.

  “Yeah, supposedly Jack Alden got married last weekend. He’s filming “Finding Collier” in Monterey. I guess he met some chick there, and they got married. And get this, Bruno Mars and Tony Bennett performed at the wedding!”

  “No!”

  “Yeah. Man, when you’re a star you can buy anything!”

  “But that’s not the juiciest story about the “Finding Collier” cast.”

  “What could be juicier than that?”

  And that’s when it happens.

  Suddenly, it’s Caprice’s photo on the screen. But this shot isn’t an attractive portrait. It’s a topless selfie with a black bar across her nipples. One boob is a good two inches lower than the other one. And they both hang low. She’s pursing her lips together, like a sixteen-year-old who thinks she looks sexy.

 

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