In Love by Design (The Adventures of Anabel Axelrod)

by Ellen, Tracy

  Pam’s distressed cry of betrayal at hearing her personal life laid publically bare was heartbreaking, but she appeared mesmerized by Luke’s story and didn’t look at me.

  “No!” I reached out and squeezed her hand tightly. She looked at me unseeingly while I whispered harshly, “Never me! I never said one word of what you told me, I swear to God!”

  I held her tearful gaze, as my words penetrated her brain, and then I nodded. She nodded frantically back, gratefully believing I didn’t betray her confidences. I was the one who should be grateful for her innate belief in me because that’s my boyfriend up there ruining her world and reputation. Luke started in again and my hand was being gripped so tight, I would have wounds from Pam’s nails in my palm.

  Luke’s voice was coldly lethal. He’d performed his magic on these people and he’d built up trust with them in an incredibly short time. Now his voice was that of a vengeful God raining down judgment and they all believed him.

  “That’s because you are a homosexual, Carter Ogelbachen II. You prefer to fuck men and that’s your choice, but you killed my friend rather than let him confess his love to the world back then. How do I know this was the truth? I was his best friend, you son of a bitch. He told me how he loved you. He told me how he begged you over and over to come out and face your family and his. He was fucking fifteen at the time and you were nineteen! You bastard, you sat and let him die, didn’t you? You helped him put that belt tight around his neck and then hang his body off that door to please you! You watched him and you let him die! You didn’t stop him or save him because you were a coward, you fucking prick. How do I know this? If you would have come to Tommy’s funeral you would have seen me and you would have known I was the one who found him! Yes, you would have known I was the one that his parents convinced to keep silent when they removed the belts from the room. Not one belt, Carter, you dumb fucker, but two belts.”

  Luke took several deep breaths, and then said so softly that everyone in the room literally swayed forward to hear, “His poor parents were Catholic and believed devoutly in God. The Sorensen’s would rather have their beloved son, Tommy, be considered a suicide and not be granted his God given right to be buried in consecrated ground like he deserved, rather than have the world find out Carter Vogelbachen’s son and Tommy were gay lovers. They were scared of your father and his men. They couldn’t bear anyone knowing Tommy died as a result of you fucking him every which way a man can fuck another person over, you filthy piece of shit!”

  As Luke’s horrible, condemning words reverberated throughout the reception room, the restaurant, and in everyone’s heads over and over, he still wasn’t finished. “Yeah, Carter, so I wanted to come here tonight specifically to see you and your family. I was only sorry your prick of an old man left, but I’ve heard he’s not doing too good these days.”

  I moaned in my seat, and looked at Pam. Transfixed, her face was pale and her hands were up on her cheeks in the classic pose of horror.

  I started rocking slightly and chanting repeatedly in a whisper that I was not at first conscious of doing, “Oh no, Luke! Please don’t do this, please don’t do this.”

  “Your brothers aren’t doing so well, either, are they? Or their wives’ businesses they’ve mismanaged into insolvency? Or your farms with all the sudden problems with access and property line disputes? Or the secured loans being called, even as I speak? Or the problems with the IRS? Or the investigation being conducted by the authorities regarding the abuse of your employees?”

  People were murmuring and talking angrily. It was only the sheer strength of Luke’s personality that had kept them silent this long.

  But the room immediately went still again in morbid expectancy when Luke’s voice asked quietly, and in a tone so menacingly dangerous that I started to rise before I knew what I was doing, “Tell us, Carter, how’s your marriage? Does your wife know you have always wanted to fuck men with black hair like mine, like Tommy’s? Does she know you have a male prostitute that’s your favorite fuck buddy in St. Paul that could be Tommy’s double, and was almost as young? Does your father wonder why Pam can’t have children when he wants nothing more than his first born son to have sons? Does your father know what your wife’s been doing? Who I’ve arranged t…”

  Describing Pam innocently falling victim to the Ogelbachen’s treachery was bad enough, but Luke has gone too far.

  “Enough!” I yelled at Luke, on my feet and slicing my hand through the air. He was taken by surprise and my voice echoed in the silence, as our eyes engaged across the few feet separating us. Softly, I added, “Enough. Not this. Please.”

  He watched me coldly, and although he was perfectly poised and in control on the surface, I saw the muscle jumping in his cheek, the alien wildness in his eyes, and the cruelty twisting his lips.

  Under the spotlight, green eyes glinted dangerously when Luke said softly, “Sit down, I am not done and you are wrong to try to stop me.”

  “I don’t care about wrong or right! If you do this…” The final words lingered on my tongue, ready to fall. Everything in me was struggling not to let them, but they fell. “You will live with your choice.”

  I turned away and pulled Pam up. I had to almost forcibly move her down the aisle for the first few steps until she got her wobbly legs working under her. We hadn’t gone more than a yard or two when she stopped cold and fell back against me, her hand outstretched and her voice confused, “Joe?”

  We’ve stopped next to John Smith and he didn’t even have the balls to look Pam in the eye.

  “Why are you here? Where’s all your hair?” She asked, and her voice was lost like a little girl’s that was awakening from one nightmare, only to find the real monster staring her smack in the face.

  John remained silent and Pam’s hand slowly dropped, as her lips started to tremble. I stepped in front of her and bent close to John’s averted face. This was so cold, even for him, and my voice was shaking.

  “I know why, John. I even know why you’re still here.” I whispered, so that only he can hear, “And I pity you from the bottom of my heart.”

  The crowd around us has been watching this byplay, but their heads swiveled en masse to the podium when Luke’s voice drawled, “Now where was I? Oh yes, Carter, what will your father say when his number one son’s first child looks a little…browner than a good, German Vogelbachen should?”

  Beside me, poor Pam let out a shattered sob and started running. I ran after her to escape this room from Hell, the sound of Luke’s taunting voice, and all the gawking, whispering, pointing people.

  Sometimes, it was not so fun to be small females in short, tight dresses.

  Chapter XXII

  “Gonna Get Over You” by Sara Bareilles

  Saturday 12/09/12

  10:30 PM

  I eventually took Pam back to my apartment. Perhaps I was being a bad friend by not apprising her of the death cloud hanging over my head and giving her a choice, but I practiced situational awareness the whole time we drove. I parked in front and didn’t stop practicing until I finished checking out every room, closet, and crack in the wall of my apartment.

  I locked us up tight in the apartment with the new dead bolt locks and security bars that fit across the entrance doors, front and back. I turned on the alarm system, as well, and remembering my promise to Anna and because I was not looking to die young, kept Rita nearby.

  I made us each a stiff, ice cold shot of vodka and we tossed it back. I made us another and we tossed that back, too.

  Pam loved to dance as much as I do. We threw off our shoes, turned on the TV, and played music videos. Very loud music videos. Pam and I danced our hearts out in the living room to every song we could find that had a fast beat and was sung by happy, pissed off women. Pam preferred to smile and laugh over agonizing her angst, and this trait was another tick high in the pro column of being friends.

  Her favorite song was, “Gonna Get Over You”, and I had to agree this music video made
man trouble seem like something girls should welcome, not cry over.

  One of the songs we played at our impromptu dance party really inspired us. We came up with the fun idea that we should perform a dance for Anna at her shower tomorrow. In fact, as her two oldest friends, we both agreed it wasn’t merely a fun idea, but our sacred duty to do so. Mac had wanted Anna’s friends and family to personally make something for Anna, as well as buy something if we chose, so this plan complemented the vibe of the shower.

  I would still be giving Anna the selection of organic spices I ground and blended for grilling different types of food. I’d found the cutest teal blue spice jars that Anna will die over, and created labels centered around using the monogram Anna and Reg had designed for their wedding invitations.

  Pam wouldn’t tell me what she made for Anna, claiming it’s a surprise. I patiently explained several times that the surprise needed only to be Anna’s and not mine, but she held firm. Resolve like that was yet another tick in Pam’s pro column because it’s important to be able to depend on your friends to save you from yourself.

  We decided on costumes, choreographed our dance, and practiced our selected song for two solid hours. Pam started dragging ass and I got her settled into my old bedroom on the bunk beds. She giggled at the bunks and claimed top. I reminded her we’re grownups now and I don’t actually sleep in the bottom bunk anymore.

  Luke’s parents were coming tomorrow and got dibs on the guest bedroom. A kind hostess would offer Pam that bed tonight, but I explained that I was too lazy to change all the bedding again in the morning, and Pam understood that logic perfectly.

  I also explained that since I napped earlier that day, I wasn’t tired. I was taking a notebook up to the third floor to do some brainstorming, so if Pam should happen to hear noisy thuds or voices there was nothing to freak over.

  Pam didn’t question the plural on voices, since she wouldn’t think it odd to hear me talking to myself with different accents like she loves to do, but she was curious what I was brainstorming.

  “I’m thinking about doing some remodeling up there,” I answered, vaguely.

  “Terrific!” Pam’s into decorating. “I love that open space. Are you thinking of a dance studio?”

  I stared at her open, freckled face smiling with interest while waiting expectantly for the details and I grinned back. “I wasn’t, but that’s a super cool idea, Pam! Thanks!”

  If this doesn’t sound like two women emotionally devastated by the events of the past evening, it’s because we resolved Pam’s problems by the time we got halfway home. Mine might be a little trickier to resolve.

  Back at Porterhouse, and after the years it took us to get up that aisle and exit the reception hall, I thought we’d leave that restaurant in the dust so fast heads would spin, but Pam wanted to use the restroom.

  At Pam’s request for some privacy, I stood outside the bathroom door to redirect any traffic until she was done. That’s where John Smith found me one minute later.

  He didn’t hesitate with any preamble but snarled, “Where’s Pam?”

  “Excuse me.” I held up a hand, turned my head, and coughed into my hand. I lied and said, “Sorry. She’s getting the jeep.”

  He demanded, “What did you mean by everything you said in there?”

  I told the truth and answered seriously, without inflection, “Luke asked for your help in his revenge plot and you agreed to deliberately seduce Pam to ruin her marriage. It didn’t matter at first, since in your mind Pam didn’t matter while Luke is your brother and you owed him. By the time it did matter, you were the one fucked. The choices you’ve made in your life, especially over the last two or three weeks, were pretty hard to live down. Tonight you came to guard Luke’s back. You knew Pam was going to hate you after tonight, but you still came here. That’s because you gave your word to one of the few people in the world that you actually care about. So why aren’t you in there doing that?”

  John waved in irritation. “He’s fine. They all love him. I swear that freak Carter is hot for his ass still, despite what Luke did.”

  We looked at each other. We both knew the other thought this was outrageously funny in a terrible way, but we weren’t going to laugh together.

  John stated simply, “I love her, Anabel. Help me.”

  I shrugged. “Help yourself.”

  John swore and cried, “You could tell her just what you told me! She’d believe the truth coming from your mouth, but it would sound like a line coming from mine. You have influence with all your friends and can tell her what to do. Help me out here!”

  “John, it’s because I don’t tell my friends what to do that I do have influence.”

  He kicked the wall with his foot. Hard. “Goddamn, what should I do then?”

  “You have to tell her about what you did, you filthy snake. That’s one reason why I pity you.”

  I made circling motions of huge breasts sticking out and then held up my fingers to indicate tiny breasts and mouthed, “Pam!”

  John frowned a little at my coyness, but he knew right away what I meant. He’s an expert on woman in order to exploit them. He knows their complexes and their body image issues.

  “Pam’s perfect!” John swore again, now really worried. “I didn’t know then how I felt, okay? I did not know!”

  I spoke the cold, hard truth. “Spare me. You knew you loved Pam, but were scared and you freaked. You went out and did your worst which is what you do best. Why should I help you with my friend when you might go do it again?”

  John swearing was vicious this time. “Nothing scares me, you bitch.”

  “That woman in…out in the parking lot getting my jeep scares you to death, you poor bastard.”

  John closed his eyes and rubbed his face with his hands. “You’re right, okay? She does scare me.” Still closed, his voice lowered to a whisper. “Pam’s so little and I’ve hurt her.” His eyes flashed open and he laughed sadly. “You’re wrong about one thing, Bel. There are not even a few people I care about in this world. I’ve never loved anyone like I do Pam and I want her to be happy. I give you my word.”

  I cheerfully lied. “Okay, this is all I can think of that might help. Give Pam tonight to settle down. Find her tomorrow. Tell her the truth about three weeks ago, Snake Man, and pray she forgives you.” I smiled a little ruthlessly. “I know I wouldn’t, but then again, Pam’s not the bitch I am. She’s a sweet little sucker that fell for your jive ass lines once already, so give her your word, not me.”

  John breathed again. “She is sweet. Okay, I can do that. I think. Jesus.” Hands on his head, he paced back and forth, adding absently, “You are a bitch, Axelrod, but your Luke’s bitch, so we’re stuck with each other.”

  I snorted and told the truth. “Ha! Speak for yourself.”

  John yipped his hyena laugh.

  He hesitated and then said, “You know, Luke didn’t mean to…”

  I held up a hand and told the honest to God truth. “The day I need you, John-Joe, to explain my man to me, please just do me a favor and give me a lobotomy.”

  John’s smile was sharp when he put a hand to his heart. “You know how I love doing favors for the ladies, Bel.”

  I smirked and John turned to go, but I said softly, “Oh, and John?

  He lifted his brows and his soulful, golden-brown eyes were glistening, but I know it’s the lighting.

  “Polemic?” I grinned broadly. “I owe you some candy, dude. Solid gold star!”

  Amused, he mocked in a falsetto, “Thank you, Ms. Ethical.”

  The minute he turned the corner, I pushed the door open further. I had already opened it a crack with the toe of my high heel during my coughing fit.

  “Well Pammie, did you hear all that?”

  She squealed in answer, pulled me inside, and danced me around the open space. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

  I smiled, as she cried out, “He does love me like I thought!” She threw out her arms and sang, “He loves me, loves me
, loves me!”

  “Like a rock, so it would seem,” I agreed, laughing at her inexhaustible exuberance after all that had just happened in the reception hall.

  She twirled me again and exclaimed, “I have to run after him, don’t I?”

  I crossed my arms and looked at her steadily.

  “No, not good?” She was grinning happily, but calming down. “Okay, I see where it would be dumb to chase him.” She patted her curls. “Whew, what a night! You had better tell me ahead of time what Joe’s going to confess. I cannot take another surprise secret popping out, my nerves are shot.”

  I tilted my head. “Huh. Let me get this straight. I’m supposed to confess John-Joe’s boyfriend crimes to you. That way you don’t take your emotions out on him, but you’ll take them out on me right now? Somehow, that just doesn’t seem to add up for a Team Anabel win.”

  ‘No, it most certainly does not!’ sniffed the accountant voice.

  ‘Ah, help the poor girl out, she’s had enough,’ encouraged the detective voice.

  ‘Consider me the tie-breaker. Help her,’ intoned the mean mommy voice.