“You have to let me just get this all out. You want to yell at me, scream at me, kick me out, whatever. It’s fine. You want to know then you have to let me just say it. Hate me and kick me out after. I am a dick. We both know it. Look he left the hotel and went to the Cottage Inn. I didn’t know what happened. I was not having you both closely followed. I know he checked in. I didn’t have someone following him. I don’t know what he did while he was there. I do know when he left there, he went straight into a sober house. I honestly do not know if it was because he was keeping himself in check or broke his sobriety during those two days. I truly don’t know. I know that while he lived there, he kept completely to himself. He left only for AA meetings and any trips the entire house took together.
Presently he goes to four meetings a week when he is not working. Which he no longer works very often. From what I understand it was what, on two weeks, off two weeks about? He is working only every three-four weeks.
He did take one charter abroad. Last month. Greek Isles. He was gone seventeen days. Longest charter he has done. Someone, never did find out who exactly, but a client requested him. They had been on a charter with him before. Must have been someone important though. He was flown on a private jet to Athens back and forth, in fact the whole crew was. Whoever it was, their anonymity was harder to unveil than anything Ben did. And yell at me or not, Ben’s life has not been easy to know.
I should add he didn’t return to work until two months after Malibu. He took an extended personal leave. It was filed as personal leave due to a ‘sick family member’. After the sober house, well you know, he returned to the co-op.”
I interrupt him. “No I didn’t know he returned after to the co-op. I had always thought he went straight to our home after the night on the beach. So now I didn’t know he returned.” I don’t want to be snide, but I can’t help it either. I don’t know what to feel. Still grateful Nick is like this or it making me crazy with every word, how he knows all I have wondered about for months.
Nick moves his elbows onto the railing and clasps his hands as his head falls between his shoulders when he leans over. I can hear him groan. I don’t care right now.
“Go on Nick. So he went back to San Francisco. Wait…You didn’t say where the sober living house was? Where was it? Where did he go?”
Nick slams the rail again. I can see the veins in his neck again. He is silent.
“Was it here in Malibu?”
Nick only nods yes. I feel lightheaded. He was right here still all that time. Oh my God. He was right here. I never told him I stayed. He was right here still. Oh my God. I need to know more.
“Better I didn’t know while I was here. Fine. Go on.”
Nick stays still and silent.
“Go on Nick.”
Nick pulls himself up and turns and leans his back against the railing. “When he went back to living in San Francisco he only went out to run, and do life shit like groceries. Though every week he goes downtown to his therapist.” Nick turns his head to me. I look directly back at him. I am stone faced. “Do you want his name? The therapist, because I know it too.”
We are breaking one another.
“No Nick. Please just go on. Please.”
I turn back to watch the ocean. The white caps move one over the other. Like every sentence coming from Nicks lips. A low tide is falling over itself. Pulling itself more shallow than before. I can’t help but feel the same right now. I need to not speak. I need to simply listen.
“And he goes to his AA meetings. He has had one particular visitor for months. She started coming by a week after he got back. An older woman always dressed very professional. She is in sixties. Always very formal, been over about a dozen times. We were never able to conclude who she is, aside from the fact that she is an attorney. We can only assume possibly business related. Don’t go getting crazy, he is not in any legal trouble. Nothing like that. What she is dong with him, I don’t know. But he isn’t in any legal trouble. She comes by, she has her computer bag is always exceptionally polite, but very formal. Ben does actually keep his private life exceptionally discreet. He is not any easy individual to find anything out regarding. Whoever this woman is, aside from being an attorney, again I actually can say on my children, I don’t know anything further. I give him credit. He tries hard to keep everything very private, even the people he has in his life. In fact, it is difficult not to respect that."
I turn around. I place both arms on the railing. "Obviously not so private or respected. You seem to know everything." Damn it. I can’t help it. It just flows out even when I try not to.
"Max I’ve been discreet. I would never place his career, his livelihood in question. His privacy has been and continues to be well kept."
"I am not going to comment on that statement. How is he now? So he is basically a hermit with a secretive life. I don’t know that man. Has anything changed since you last, I don’t know…checked on him?"
“He seems to be alright Max. I do not mean that in a way, oh he is doing great without you. I mean his sobriety. If he did drink after returning from Malibu, he is most certainly sober again. I know that is important to you. I genuinely do not know if he did. Even the best investigators with the highest standards of confidentiality still hit walls. I also never wanted to push too far. Raise any red flags that anyone would question, his life being questioned. I know you would have never wanted that. I assume he is paying you rent still?"
"That is between he and I? Oh Christ what am I even saying? No it isn't. Yes, he insists on rent- well not rent. I don’t know. I own the fucking place. Yes, he insists on paying me to live there. I didn’t even know what to tell him to pay. So I made up a number. Obviously he knew it was bullshit. He sends a different amount every month. Always a few dollars or cents over what I asked him. It is spite I know. I don’t get a personal check mailed to me. It is direct deposit into my account. It is my only connection till now, knowing he is even still alive all this time."
Nick walks back, sits down looking for another cigarette. We are both back to chain-smoking now. “I need a real drink. You want anything?”
"A do over? New mind? Different life? Can your investigators give you that for me?"
“No Moe. No, they can’t. This life has been unfair to you in so many ways. I’d sacrifice it all if I could give any one of those things to you.” Nick retreats. As he does he yells back again. “Seriously do you have any other alcohol? Anything stronger than wine?’
“I really don’t Nick. I do have prescription meds you are welcome to.” I am not sure myself if I am being sarcastic or if I truly don’t want to be alone in all of my crazy right now.
This isn't all Nick knows. It is simply all he wants me to know. Is it all I want to know? I turn back toward the ocean. The breeze hits me, pushing my hair away from me. I cross my arms. The chill runs through me. Do I push further? Can I handle knowing more? He went into sober living? Did he drink? Was it too much for him? I have no idea what to do. I turn back around. The breeze now blows my hair wrapping it around me.
Nick is in the doorway. He looks somber. He looked this same way in Los Angeles. He does know more. This is not why he came. He is genuinely torn. It is in his eyes. He is holding a glass of wine low beside him. We all can’t be in such pain. Nick cares. Even with such fucked behavior, he matters also. He is the one here. I walk toward him.
I stop a breath in front of him. "I am okay. Please don't feel bad. It’s all my past now. I am glad he is okay. I am grateful he is doing all he can to continue his sobriety. Come on. We were having such a nice time together. Come on? It’s done. I need a cigarette and I am sure you need at least three more. Put more kindle on and I will even eat some S‘mores."
We both do not need to suffer. I will deal with all my questions and grief when he leaves. I don’t want to be alone right now. I take Nick's face in my hands and kiss his cheek gently. It is my thank you, we are done with this. But when I try taking his arm to go sit, Nick
doesn't move.
"There is more Moe. I don't want to lie to you. Fuck! I swore I would never lie to you again. I also swore I would never hurt you again. I also promised not to contact you or do half the things I have still done. Yet here I am and here look at all I know! But now I am here in front of you and all things I’ve in making sure you are okay, I realize are all the things that can keep you okay now. Looking in your eyes and lying is too fucken hard. But I if I tell you the truth, I don’t want to look in your eyes either. What do I do Moe?"
Chapter Seventy-Two
I stay still in front of Nick. There is honesty and fear in his face. "I realize you know more. I am crazy but not a fool. You mocked me being a realist earlier. Try doing it again now. My gut, well it tells me that “more” is probably a she. I know this not why you came to see me. I know all things you actually do, are actually for me not to hurt. I asked tonight. You didn’t tell me first. I can see the struggle in you right now. Its pulling at my heart how deeply you care about me. Even if you infuriate me at moments also. I will never fully understand you Nicholas.
Yet since you walked in my front door, very similar to a tornado, earlier today, I have been nothing but grateful you’re here. As twisted as this all is, I know all you do is because you love me. There is no other ulterior motive. I think I have learned enough about life to see that. Even if I choose to be blind at other moments. Those moments of blindness are choices not inability."
"What do I do then? Do I tell you? I honestly do not know right now what the right thing is."
I sit on the edge of the lounge chair and squish three marshmallows on each stick. Holding out a stick for Nick, I place mine over what is left of the fire. It is burning still just enough. Nick walks toward me, taking a large sip from this glass. He places it on the floor beside him. We both quietly let the white of the sugar fluff turn a toasted brown.
I look into the fire. "Let me tell you what I know about not telling someone the whole truth. It will drive you mad. You won't be free. I wanted this door opened. It will be I, who will need to deal with whatever is left to know. It is not to be a burden on your shoulders. If it makes me sad. It is not your fault or responsibility. Let's finish this and then we can both move forward. We both deserve that. You said earlier you are being present. Well let’s finish the past and get back to now."
"Are you sure?"
"If I can handle the possibility I may have caused him to drink after all these years of sobriety, I am certain I can handle pretty much anything.” I feel a sudden panic. “Oh God, unless he is married? Is he married?”
Nick back in the lounge chair. "No. He isn't married."
I stare into the fire. "Are they having a baby?”
"Not that I am aware of, but still you just said they..."
I quickly change my tone to ease Nick’s fear. An actor I shall always be. I turn to him.
“So he is involved with someone. He moved on. We said it. Rebound you realize? Ben is involved with another woman. See there. I can even say it. So what is this chick like? Who is she? What? Did your private investigator take her picture? Come on, I know that you would be dying to see. The woman after me! If I still know you at all, no way you were able to help yourself to not see. So what did your private investigators see?"
Oh God my chest hurts. Saying it out loud is stabbing me. I can’t let Nick see. I try to laugh at my own sarcasm.
"Your doorman.”
“My doorman? What do you mean?”
“Your doorman. I didn’t need an investigator. I paid off your doorman. Actually easiest one I bought. Quite willing. Seems he likes you quite a bit. Was really upset when he never saw you come back. He doesn’t understand, nor does he obviously really know anything as to what happened. Except now he is not too fond of Ben. Your doorman knew you owned the place. He doesn’t like Ben living in your home as he calls it, without you in it."
I put the marshmallow down and light a cigarette.
"Chuck? Chuck spies on Ben. Wow! I am not sure if I should be proud or think he is a prick. Oh my God, he was always like perfect to everyone.”
“Well he is the eyes there. What makes you think he doesn’t know more than you think about everyone in your building. That place is his life. Come on Moe, think about it.”
“I am actually a bit amused by it. Okay so, who is she? Come on give me some dirt. I can take it!" I inhale my cigarette. I am shaking on the inside. I want to know now. I do not need to know. I am feeling the difference. Opposite. Twisted. Truly.
"I haven’t seen a picture of her. However, thank you for the in depth compliment of my character. No, I did not want to see the woman after you. No one can be you. So I don’t care what she looks like.”
“So you have no idea what she looks like? Come on Nick.”
Shit I finished the cigarette already. I can’t even have another because then that will show how anxious I am.
“I know she is tall with dark hair. She is in the program with him. They attend at least two meetings a week together. She is a makeup artist. She always spends the night by you- or him I don’t know what the fuck to call that apartment anymore- anyway- she only ever stays “there” the night before he leaves for work and she is there always the day he comes back. Chuck doesn’t always see Ben come and go. He can only assume he stays by her, because there are times he doesn’t see Ben for a few days. Chuck is pretty sure she has her own key also."
Heat has risen from my toes to every hair in my head. Anxiety is pulsating through every cell in my body. Anger. Sadness. Confusion. Suffocation. I scream.
"Wait! Stop! No!"
"Fuck! I know! Bottom line, that is your home. You own it. You shared that home together! Who cares if he still lives there! That part pissed the fuck out of me too!"
I am trying to breathe. I speak slowly now.
"No, that is not it. You said she is a makeup artist. Do you know if it is for MAC, downtown? Does she have a tattoo sleeve? That is like saying someone has blonde hair or brown hair. I am mean tattoos, they are there. A tattoo sleeve is just as visible as what color hair. Does she have that? Do you know? Does she work at MAC?"
I am spiraling. I am ranting. I can see the rabbit hole now. Nick looks white.
"How do you know that?"
"Her name is Lindsay isn't it?"
I stand up. I feel weak. I sit back down. I grab my stomach. No my head. My head feels dizzy. I am wrong. Very wrong. This I am not prepared for. Lindsay? No. NO!
"Moe? You can’t know her? I may not have seen her picture myself, but okay fine, I may have found everything out that I could about her. You know her?"
I turn back to him as he is now sitting up straddling the lounge chair. He looks like a lion about to attack. I try and steady my voice.
"You can say that. Can you please light me a cigarette? If I should pass out. My Xanax are generic, in my nightstand. Put one under my tongue and let it dissolve. Give it a moment. You can slap me if necessary. I will be okay then. Just in case. I am not feeling so well at the moment."
Nick quickly lights two cigarettes. He hands me his wine. He passes me one of the cigarettes, as the other stay attached to his bottom lip. I take the cigarette and take the nicotine deep in my lungs. Cancer does trump a birth defect and mental illness. Perhaps if I smoke enough time, I can let that be demise rather than this I see Nick out of the corner of my eye. He has sprinted into the kitchen, grabbing another glass and the last bottle of wine. He is back now with a full glass himself. I drink myself from his glass earlier. I can’t talk further until I feel its warmth.
"Moe, I know all there is to know about this woman! I found no connection to you. Believe me it was the first thing I had them look into. If he decided to start fucking one of your friends, I can’t tell you in honesty that I would not have hired let’s say other types of people to fuck him up. Come on! The look on your face is scaring me. Moe please! Okay, no. I have a better idea. Let’s stop here! Let's Skinny Dip? Or I will skinny dip and you can
mock me doing it! Sound good? Moe! Hello! Can you say something!"
I finish the wine in one drink and put my hand with it out for more.
Nick nods no. "That is all you are getting. First off been there, done that and never doing it again! I know you took a Xanax earlier! I did not realize why you needed it. It became quite clear, oh an hour or so ago."
I stand up and all I can do is pace around. Until that is I hear my own self mumbling aloud. "That absolute fuck. I hate him. Of all people."
I see Nick finish off his glass as I turn the corner of my deck. He is pouring himself another glass. That is so unfair.
"Moe! Stop going in circles. Talk to me Moe. Come back to earth please!"
I look up. Nick's tone slaps me out of my delirium. "Obviously I know her. I know exactly who she is.”
“How? She isn’t an ex of Ben’s. I fucken know his laundry list, like it or not. And she was not on it.”
I stop pacing. “I will explain only if there is no judgment!"
“Of course! Why would you think I would judge you?”
Nick stands up, wide eyes again. I hate this look on him. I can actually see his brain working. Don’t say it Nick.
“Oh, fuck! You fucked this woman didn't you? Fuck Moe! Is he seeing a woman you were once involved with? What the hell? Is this a Spanish novella?"
Nick presses his hands together in a prayer and looks up at the sky.
“Thank you God! Now I do not have to like that fuck anymore! Thank you! Moe that is the cardinal rule. Even if you are with someone bi or whatever the hell you are. You don’t sleep with other your ex’s- ex’s. That is low. Even for me that would be low.”
I stand still. He had to say it. I feel stern. Weak but stern.
"Not exactly. And I said no judgment!”
“I am not judging! I am trying to digest! Fine I am judging him just a little. But I am not judging you because you fucked her. There is a difference Moe.”
I finish my cigarette and walk over and light another. I quick steal a gulp of Nick’s wine.
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