by Sarah Cole
I eye her skeptically. I know how easily people can change face, especially in the music business. They tend to go where their bread is buttered, and while right now we have the new wow factor, BV has a legacy behind them.
We sit in silence for a few more moments, letting the bus rock us into a trance. After the load-out was done at the venue, we just decided to head out. We didn’t want to risk sitting like ducks, waiting for something else to happen. It’s ridiculous that we are the ones completely innocent here, yet we’re running like outlaws. I’ve been so preoccupied with trying to figure out how to make this all stop that I completely forgot about how we got into this position in the first place, and the questions from earlier pop back into mind.
I hesitate on asking, not sure if I really want to know the answers, but I feel like it’s all weighing heavily on Leni too. I saw the look on her face when she saw that bag.
“Leni?” I whisper tentatively into the dark, strobes of light flash across the walls from the passing street lights. She doesn’t answer and I almost think she’s asleep, but she finally answers.
“Yeah?”
“How did you get rid of those drugs?” I ask, figuring it’s best just to be direct.
She exhales a deep, minty breath, but doesn’t say anything.
“You don’t have to tell me, Len. I just want to help if you’re in trouble.” I soothe. I can feel the tension radiating off of her like a sprinter at the starting blocks. I’m just waiting for her to bolt.
“I’m not in any trouble, Jay. Never have been.” She says abruptly.
“Alright, but the person you called to help had to be-”
“My Uncle. I called my Uncle for a favor. He owed me one after a lifetime of shit.” She interjects, sitting up, crossing her legs pretzel style.
“Your Uncle?” I question.
“Yes.”
“But I thought you said your Uncle is in politics?”
“Oh, he is.”
“I’m sorry, but now I’m really confused.” I say. From everything she’s said, her relationship with her Uncle is extremely broken.
“I wanted to tell you everything every time you questioned my upbringing or my relationship with my Uncle, but after you hear it all, I think you’ll understand why it isn’t just as simple as that. This isn’t the kind of story you share over dinner, or tell your children when they ask about you when you were little… it’s not good. Not at all, but maybe you’ll understand a little bit more about my past, and why I did the things I did...My therapist seemed to think it made sense.” She drops her head in shame.
I sit up with her, grabbing her cheeks in my tattooed hands, forcing her to look at me.
“Leni, never once have I judged you based on your past, and I’m not about to start now. Shit! I’ve done things that I can’t even remember. I’m not proud of some of the stuff I’ve done, especially not in the past few years, so please just talk to me. We’ve got each other, and I just want to know you. You’re beautiful inside and out, and I want to know what made you.” I say, brushing away the tears that have begun to fall in steady tracks down her cheeks.
“Let’s just start at the beginning.” She says.
“A very good place to start.” I sing, echoing the track from The Sound of Music, but she doesn’t look too enthused.
“Why do you always do that?” She studies me as she tilts her head.
“Do what?”
“Use humor to mask your feelings. You do it all the time!” She rubs her forehead, smoothing out her puckered brow.
“I’m sorry. I know I do; Charlie hates it too. I’ve always been a goof, but I guess it’s just my way of diffusing the heaviness. It always feels like it’s going to be ok if you can make someone smile, you know? But really, I am listening.” I place my hand over hers, giving it a gentle, encouraging squeeze.
“First, to help put this in perspective, do you know who Lance Jennings is?” She asks.
The name vaguely rings a bell, and I have to think hard for a moment about why it sounds so familiar, and where I’ve heard it before.
“The Senator that wants to run for President?” I guess and she nods solemnly, but then it becomes more clear to me.
“Yes, Senator Lance Jennings, Republican Presidential hopeful is my loving Uncle.” She says the word loving with a sarcastic distaste that I only share with butter beans.
“Ok…?”
“Let’s just say that reach of his has extended beyond dreams of the White House and political campaigns. He has certain side businesses too.” She says, pleading with her eyes for me to understand.
I nod my understanding, and she continues, “When my parents passed away, and I went to live with him, I had no idea what to expect. I knew he was my Mom’s brother and I had met him only a handful of times growing up, but that was pretty much it. Everyone, all of the social workers kept telling me how lucky I was that I had family to live with, someone willing to take me in, someone fighting for me… someone who was well off.” She turns her head, wiping away the tears.
“I suppose I had delusions of grandeur after all of that. He was my Uncle, and my Mom’s brother, so I guess I figured he’d be funny and loving like my Mom was. I had it all planned out in my head. It’d be like Annie, you know? Uncle Lance would take me in, and love me, give me anything I could ever want…”
The look on her face is destroying me, and so I continue for her, “I’m assuming that isn’t what actually happened.”
She looks at me with glassy eyes, “Not by a long shot.”
She continues as she toys with a loose thread on the blanket, wrapping and unwrapping it repeatedly around her finger, “He only wanted me for the political perks it brought, the scandals it would help cover up… As a man who enjoyed women too much, and never planned to settle down, taking in his orphaned niece provided the bleeding-heart story of how he was focusing on my well-being, and my presence provided the rose-colored glasses for the public. Because obviously, any man or politician who would take in and raise an orphan, and not date to provide her with stability had to be a saint, right?”
“I…” I begin, but I fall short, because I am without words.
“Oh, don’t worry. It gets better.” She says bitterly. “So there I was, a little girl, dealing with the loss of her parents and left all alone. I’m fairly certain I needed counseling of some kind, but obviously, that couldn’t happen because I couldn’t be crazy. I didn’t have a nanny or a babysitter when he would leave me for days on end. He’d just have the housekeeper stock food and a driver take me to school, and when I asked why, all he said was that the world was a tough place, and I needed to learn how to fight for myself.” The look on her face as she recounts the story that is her childhood speaks for itself. She had to fight and continue to fight every single day. And while I hate what I’m hearing, I love the woman she has become in spite of everything she has been through.
“Anyways, the older I got, the more things I started noticing. And the older I got, the more complacent my Uncle Lance got with how well he hid things from me. The drugs, the parties, the women. I saw it all; was made to sit like a little doll and watch it all, and at first I didn’t understand what was going on. I watched as people were beaten within an inch of their lives, I watched as people had sex in front of me, and I watched the realities and horrors of drug use and countless overdoses play out mere inches from where I sat, because I wasn’t allowed to move. I was a pretty little puppet - moy dovol'no malen'kiy kukol'nyy.” She says flawlessly in what sounds like Russian, shocking the hell out of me.
She sees my confusion and answers my unspoken question, “My Grandmother on my mother’s side was a Russian immigrant during the Cold War, and that is really all I know about her. She passed away when my mother was in high school. My Mom used to speak Russian to me, and my Dad would always laugh because he had no clue what she was saying, but really she’d just tell me stories.” She laughs through her tears, and my heart breaks at her memory.
“No. It’s alright, I’m nearly finished. The more I sat there, watching, listening, the more I learned. He was running a drug ring, and I presume dabbling in prostitution. I don’t know how or why, but I know it has something to do with my Grandmother’s family. He was always speaking Russian. It’s not like that is a super common thing in the Pacific Northwest.”
“So you think he’s part of the Russian mafia?” I ask, disbelievingly.
“Honestly, deep down I know.” She says, and continues. “Really that’s pretty much it. I saw and lived things that no one, especially not a child should see. As soon as I was old enough to start going out, I did. I had to. Most kids turn to drugs and start drinking to deal with their crap – my friends did, at times I wished I could have, but after living what I lived day in and day out I couldn’t. I just couldn’t so I dealt with the pain the only way I knew how. What started as a cry for attention, quickly became my own addiction; my own release. I had to feel a different kind of pain to distract me from the lonely hell inside my mind. I started dating Sam in High School, and were married right after. We were so young and stupid, and I thought I was in love, but really I was desperate. Desperate for a family, for a way out…I wasn’t even happy. I was just clinging onto anything I could to pretend that I was normal.”
She levels me with her complete honesty, and I don’t have words. I don’t know any words that magically fix the past, or make it better, because there aren’t, but she can have my love because really that is all I have that is of any worth to her.
“What happened between you and Sam?” I ask.
“He cheated on me. I came home from work early, and found him with another woman in our bed.” She says simply, and it kills me that she belonged so completely to another man before, especially one that didn’t appreciate her.
“That son of a bitch didn’t know what he had.” I say softly, pulling her to my lap, kissing her hair.
“Thank you for listening. I do feel better after telling you, and it wasn’t as hard as I thought.” She nuzzles into my bare chest, and I love how right it feels. I just wish I was capable of giving her everything that she deserves, everything that Sam and her Uncle didn’t give her.
“I’ll always listen to you, Leni. Always. You were dealt a shit hand in life. We both were in so many ways, but the difference between you and other people is you took that and you molded yourself into something beautiful, something strong, and capable. Lennon, I love you. I love everything about you. The world needs more beautiful souls like you, and I’m so fucking sorry for everything. I’m sorry for putting you in the position where you felt like you even had to call that asshole for a favor for me. You didn’t have to do that. You never have to do that for me. Never compromise yourself for me or anyone else ever again, Leni.”
She smiles at me, “Jay, I didn’t do anything I didn’t want to do. I’d do anything for you because I love you too. Sometimes we have to hurt for the things that are worthwhile.”
“You are nothing short of amazing.” I whisper, leaning in to kiss her.
Her warm lips yield to mine, and immediately the blood in my veins catches fire with a burning need for her and only her. I press my arousal into her and she lets out a soft moan as she opens herself to me, rocking against me. I wrap my arms around her and roll her onto her the bed beside me, caressing every inch of skin I can get my hands on, and she brushes her nose against mine, kissing me back.
“We have to be quiet.” She breathes against my lips. “Charlie is just on the other side of the door.”
“I think we can manage.” I grin, and take her lips again.
She reaches down, peeling the athletic shorts from my legs, and I do the same for her as she removes her tank top, exposing her full breasts. I take her in, needing to worship every piece of her, our pace lazy and completely unhurried. This is a sharp contrast to our usual, and it dawns on me that this is making love. We are connected on every level; emotional and physical, and I’m not even sure it was ever this way with Abby.
We were young, and on so many levels, immature. Immature in our relationship, and completely selfish in regards to each other’s wants and needs. Realizing those relationship flaws doesn’t lessen the loss, but it does solidify my feelings for Leni. It helps me realize what we have is good, real, and selfless. I just wish with every part of me that I wasn’t so scared of it; of losing her.
Chapter 14
Leni:
Jay and I walk hand in hand down the street, the late summer breeze blowing off the lake, leaving us with just the slightest taste of the cooler weather soon to come. The past three weeks have flown by almost regrettably fast, but thankfully without any major incidents happening. The two bands have managed to give each other a wide birth, and thankfully after the show here in Chicago in a couple days, this tour will be over then the bands can go their separate ways. Fading to Light is set to start out on another tour across Europe in a few weeks and will be home just in time for the holidays.
The only words that come to mind when thinking about this relationship with Jay is effortless and loving. From time to time, I see the hesitation on his part, but it quickly dissolves with a kiss or a touch of our hands. I’ve managed to build close relationships with Aaron, Brenden and Chase over the past few weeks, and Charlie and I have been in constant contact. It is killing me that it all is about ready to come to a close.
After this tour wraps, I will head back to Seattle to continue working as a branding and marketing manager at the tour’s affiliated record company, Voltage. Where this leaves Jay and I…well, I don’t know. Our relationship doesn’t have a label, it never has, and neither of us has mentioned it. In fact, since that night we both laid out our feelings in the bus after I told him my story, we haven’t said the love word to each other. That’s ok, but all it does is leave me confused and conflicted. It isn’t that I don’t think the feelings are there or real, because I know they are. I feel them; in every smile, touch, joke, or whisper in my ear. I feel it. It all just feels a little controlled and guarded. On his side? On my side? Both probably. I can’t let myself get too wrapped up in fantasies and visions of the future with Jay, when there’s a good chance this will all be over in a matter of days.
“Babe, you haven’t heard a word I’ve said, have you?” Jay laughs lightly, shaking our intertwined hands to get my attention.
“Oh, no. I’m sorry; I was lost in thought.” I say looking over to him, when something catches my eye.
“What the hell is that?” I ask, using our intertwined hands to point just beyond the landscaping.
He looks confused for a minute before his eyebrows lift and he nearly doubles over in laughter.
I smack his back lightly. “I’m being totally serious, though.” I can’t help but laugh, myself, because honestly I have no idea what I’m looking at.
“That is the Bean.” He says, gesturing to the large silver monstrosity with both hands like he’s presenting the eighth wonder of the world.
“The Bean?” I ask flatly.
“Modern art sculpture. Gosh…” he says scratching his head animatedly, but really I can see the disbelief. “You’ve honestly never heard of the Bean or seen like the millions of Instagram selfies people take in its reflection?”
“Umm, no?”
“Jeeze Len… then I’m just going to have to give you the full Bean experience.” He says with a boyish grin on his face as he tugs my hand, pulling me behind him.
That’s certainly something I never thought I’d hear and be excited about… ‘The Bean Experience.’
He pulls me through the throngs of tourists that are standing around and posing with it, basically using it as the mirror for an epic bathroom selfie of sorts.
“Stand here.” He says, positioning me just a bit away from the … the… well, bean. He takes a few steps back and fishes the phone out of the back pocket of his tight, ass loving jeans.
“Say cheeseburger!” he s
miles, like he’s trying to get a toddler to pose, but I indulge him.
“Cheeseburger!!!!!” I sing and he snaps the picture, and taps his screen a few times before walking up to where I’m standing and flipping the screen so I can see he made the ridiculously cheesy photo his background image. I like the thought of him seeing my face every day even when we aren’t together. Because, deep down I know that reality waits for us.
“Now, for the ultimate shot… face the Bean.” He announces in a booming, ring leader voice, spinning me around with both hands on my shoulder, before stepping beside me. I can’t help the ridiculous giggle that bubbles up and escapes me.
He looks at me for a second, eyes soft and his hand lifts to trail down my cheek tenderly.
“That is the most beautiful freaking sound. Music to my ears, Sunshine. You should laugh all the time.” He holds my gaze for a minute, leaving me stunned and tingling with the warmth of his words.
The moment is gone almost as suddenly as it came when he wraps his arm around me and says seriously, “Now… Look directly into the Bean and smile.”
I do as he asks and he snaps a few pictures, each one us making different silly faces. We carry on that way, walking through the park for a bit to avoid the sidewalk traffic, before we head back out onto Michigan Avenue and snapping more pictures. After he learned earlier that this was my first time visiting Chicago, he insisted we be touristy.
“Holy shit balls! Is that the time?” he asks me, looking down at his watch. I check my phone and realize we are late to meet Charlie.
“Oh no!” I screech. “We only have five minutes to get back to the hotel.”
Jay just decided to come straight here from the airport instead of going home since there are sound checks and interviews and everything leading up to the concert. Andrew’s parents are in town and spending the day with Fallon, so she and her friend Laney are meeting us here in the city for lunch, then we are set to have a girls’ day. I’ve even been texting back and forth with Laney regarding a gender reveal party we are throwing for Charlie and Andrew, tonight. I’ve never had girlfriends before that were more than just acquaintances since high school, and I forgot how good it is just to laugh and talk about girl things. I’d lost a lot of the things along the way to where I am now, and never even realized it.