Regarding me silently for a moment, she says “Nothing.”
“Jenna, if you’d have seen Alec’s room, you would want the best, too.”
She slides into her chair and takes the menu. “Thank you,” she smiles to the hostess. I open up the menu and look at it, disturbed by Jenna’s judgmental expression. It worsens as the hostess walks away. “You didn’t thank her, Rue.”
Blinking, I look up. “Oh. Well, you did. So that’s enough, isn’t it?”
I focus on the menu again, not interested in what she’s thinking about me. But that’s not really true… deep down, I can feel it. I felt it even before it was reflected in her eyes. I’m changing. And the truth is, I want to change. I want to show Jack that I fit into his world. It would have been my world, too, had Max talked my mother into it. Or if he’d left his wife.
I should feel bad for Connie Stone, but every time her jerk son acts like I’m ignorant, crass, or beneath them, that compassion for her goes right out the window. He was my dad, too. If only my mother had let Max get to know me. Maybe then I would have had a dad. Maybe then Jack and I would’ve been friends. And maybe Sean wouldn’t have to protect me the way he does, because I would have been confident in the life they live in because it would have been my life, too.
Putting down the menu, I stare out the window. There’s no way of ever knowing but I can’t help but wonder that if things had been different, maybe Alec and I would be able to be together without worrying about losing the people closest to us.
I want to be close to my brothers. I want very much for them to accept me. I just have a funny way of showing it.
But hey, no one’s perfect. Least of all, me.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Rue
A loud SLAP wakes me from the wonderful dream I was having about whales. My head jerks at the sound and I crane my neck to see Jack glowering above me, silhouetted by the early-afternoon sun.
I can recognize fury when I see it, so I sigh loudly in annoyance, “What is it now, Jack?”
Without even so much as a hello, he snaps, “Look, nimrod.”
I twist my spine and blink at a copy of US Magazine that’s skewed against my side. With a start, I snatch up the glossy paper, sitting upright as I cry, “No!”
Staring back at me is an old Stone family photo, before Max’s death. My father. I still can’t identify him in that way without feeling like I’m in a Twilight Zone episode. But the horrifying part is that superimposed over the top right of this famous family picture is me, dancing on the bar back in New York in my magic blue dress, my arms thrust out in front of me like Superman. Headline: Stone Family’s Billions Squandered By Bastard Surprise.
“Oh no,” I moan, feeling the air in my lungs begin to spin.
“Oh yes,” my new brother sneers, dropping a fluttering pile of periodicals to add to my nightmare. Some are American, others are from Spain, France, Britain, and Canada. One after the other, I scan their covers and toss them aside, overcome by a debilitating nausea. In most, I’m with Sean and Jack and the look on my face is so cold, I come off as an ice queen bitch. On three covers is the photo taken at my apartment, the one we posed for. The boys look great with their practiced smirks, but in this, I look absolutely terrified.
Maxwell Stone Gave The Nanny More Than A Tip
“No. Oh no no no no no no.” I moan, unable to stop looking.
Saints Jack and Sean Stone Accept Bastard Baby Sister
Another Nanny Breaks Up Home–Costs Family Millions
Rue Calliwell Squanders Inheritance on Booze and Men
Staring at the image of Jack’s and my hand clasped tight, my stomach twists. Just Siblings? asks the headline.
With water rippling off her hair, Jenna returns from a swim in the pool leaving a trail of watery footprints behind her. “What’s up? Oh my GOD!” She grabs one of the magazines, then another. Then another.
Stripping my eyes away from a photo of Alec holding me as we plowed through the mob at the Hyatt, I look over to Jenna who’s sitting on the chair next to mine with her eyes huge and horrified. She holds up People Magazine and shrugs, trying to see the silver lining. “At least you look good.” I read the headline: Olivia Calliwell, Billionaire’s Nanny, Made More Than His Beds.
My hand flies to my throat as hot tears lash my eyes. Jenna goes white, realizing how much this has pierced me. “Rue, I’m sorry…”
I barely hear her. They’re saying everything Jack’s been thinking, completely validating his treatment of me. They think I’m trash. A child of infidelity, and they’re right. What kind of pride can be taken in the way I came to be? I’m a baby born from only pain, hidden secretly until age twenty-one when I was destined to rise up and dishonor the memory of a ‘great man’ and bring his family to powdery ashes.
I jump up and run. From the headlines. From Jack. From me.
Leaping into the air, I throw my arms above me and dive into the pool’s sweet baptism. The sounds of the world morph into a vortex of blessed indiscernible nothingness. I breathe bubbles of air out, removing as much of my body’s buoyancy as possible, paddling my arms lightly to sink to the bottom and stay here. Down here lies escape. Nothing matters. Not even me. Especially not me.
I’ve been spinning ever since I awoke to discover Jack announcing mysteriously from my doorstep that I’d be hearing from his lawyer. I’ve been caught in a tornado of insecurity and excitement, ego and pride, freedom and fear. And underneath those, I’ve been trying to fit in just like I promised myself I wouldn’t. I’ve been reaching beyond my own truth in a vain attempt to become an idea.
I’ve been trying to be like them. But I’m not like them. I’m nothing. And now the whole world knows it.
My lungs hurt, but I ignore them, and lose myself in the distraction of the sun’s kaleidoscope of refracted light throughout the water.
It’s so beautiful, peaceful and otherworldly.
It beckons me to stay.
I watch it and feel peaceful for the first time since I heard the news. The feeling is so longed for that I don’t even know what I’m doing when I open my mouth and let a little water in. In the far reaches of my mind, I know it’s not air, but it feels better than the air I’ve been breathing. The dull echo of sounds begins to be replaced by the sweet lullaby of my slowing heart as I drink more.
Images from my life float by and I grow sleepy as I hazily observe them. Sean and I dancing by ourselves at Space Ibiza with him doing the robot and making me cramp up from laughing. My mother taking a bite of my peanut butter toast so big that it was almost gone, and then laughing with her mouth full as I got mad. The time when she and I laughed so hard we peed our pants. How much I miss her. My audition for The Lion King Musical where I was covered in sweat and happiness as we went over the routines again and again. I can see my feet finding the steps. There’s Jenna and I holding hands as we rode across the Brooklyn Bridge. Her exploding into my room at age twelve, screaming that she’d finally kissed Trathen Heckman and how it was just as great as she thought it would be. Alec…Alec pulling me into the elevator and kissing me so hard my teeth nearly cut my lips. The cacophony of noise at the airport forcing him to yell his declaration that I wasn’t alone.
I’m not alone.
Not alone…
Not alone…
I gasp for air, but there is no air down here and gasping only makes that painfully clear. The water has become so heavy. My limbs won’t move; throat and body are numb.
There is no more anything.
No more pain. No more chances. No more love.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Jack
“Such a drama queen,” I mutter under my breath as Rue runs to the pool.
Jenna snaps, “You bring it out in her, Jack.”
I swivel my torso to look at the dancer and give an appreciative glance to her cleavage. “That’s the first time you’ve lost your temper with me.”
She narrows her almond-shaped eyes. “No. It’s the
first time you’ve noticed.”
I feign a smile. “Fair enough.”
Picking up the copy of People, I feel something I’m not accustomed to feeling: regret. I knew what I was doing when I called those reporters with my anonymous tip. I gave them all of our intimate details on purpose to fuck with Rue. It was my intention to give her the foulest and most bitter taste of fame I possibly could, a concentrated dose of what Sean and I have endured our whole lives. I wanted to make her pay for my dad caring about her so much that he stowed money away for her well being; never bothering to tell us, the ones who loved him.
When my father committed suicide, I was devastated. I understood the desire on a personal level, but that he went through with it almost killed me, too. Losing a parent before you’re ready, with no warning and no goodbye… no one prepares you for it. It would be insane to think that they could. The foundation that had always been under every action I’d ever taken to impress him was ripped out from under me. There was no one to impress anymore. He was my father. I was his son. For men, this bond is all encompassing.
He cared for Rue. That’s clear. And I hate that. But who did I let myself become, in response? When I called those reporters, it never occurred to me that my family would be hurt by my actions. The media rakes us over the coals as it is; to give them gasoline was stupid. I wasn’t thinking about my mom, Sean, or me. And seeing Rue’s face just now, how it paled–it took the fun out of all of this. The victory was hollow. She didn’t fight back this time. I really hurt her and though I thought that’s what I wanted to do, it didn’t feel good.
My chest is aching and I don’t know why.
Ignoring it, I throw the magazine on the chair. “The drama’s in her already. It’s not my fault I bring it out.”
“Jack!” Jenna groans, irritated. “You know, I used to like you. Before I got to know you, that is. Why don’t you give Rue a break? She needs you guys. Didn’t you ever stop to think that you’re all she has?”
Feeling the sting, I swallow, but lean on my anger for support. “She’s made it clear she wants nothing to do with us. Or are you forgetting the limo?”
Jenna rolls her eyes. “Yeah, she said those things because you’ve done everything in your power to make her feel like she’s beneath you. How would you feel if…no. You can’t even begin to know what that feels like, can you? You get everything you ever wanted. Well, Rue…” she stops and looks to the pool. Staring at it a few moments, her eyes shifting from annoyance to concern as she searches. “Wait. Where’s Rue?”
I turn and glance around the pool deck, but she’s not there. There are people standing in the shallow end with their backs to us, talking. I take a few steps toward the pool, a feeling of foreboding drifting up from my subconscious. A dark shadow in the deep end appears as I get close enough to see over the side. I run up. Yell her name. Yell it again.
Jenna joins me, staring over the side, frozen as she tries to understand what’s happening. Urgently I ask her, “Can she hold her breath for a long time? Is she fucking with us?”
She shakes her head, a thin line of distress deepening between her eyebrows. “No. RUE! COME ON! You’re scaring me!”
Terror slams into me as Rue’s body sways unnaturally to the side like the water owns her now.
“No,” I whisper, my heart pounding loudly as I dive in to save her. Swimming as fast I can, I fasten an arm around her waist and use my feet to push off the bottom of the pool.
The water fights me, but I’m stronger and I kick my legs hard against it. Under here, it’s like time disappears.
With her hanging heavily under my arm as I swim.
What have I done?
Crashing through the surface, I gasp hard for air and yank Rue up as high as I can, her head hanging lifelessly, chin pressed into her chest and eyelids closed, with water cascading over them. “Grab her!”
“Oh my God. Her lips are blue!” Jenna pulls her up as I push from underneath. As she eases her friend’s head onto the limestone, she begins to pray, “Our Father who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name. Rue! Come on baby! Don’t die on me! Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done...”
I leap out of the pool, scraping my knees on cement as I skid to her side. Grabbing her chin with one hand and plugging her nose with the other, I breathe heat and air from my lungs into hers.
After six breaths, I beg, “C’mon, Rue. C’mon,” turning her over onto her side as water reluctantly pours out of her.
But it’s not enough.
No heartbeat.
Grabbing her nose and mouth again I persevere, and through Jenna’s desperate, repeated prayers, I hear Sean and Alec joining us, asking frantically, “What’s going on?” as a small crowd surrounds us, whispering.
I don’t hear them.
I don’t see them.
The only thing I see is my sister dying in my arms.
Trying to get her heart to beat, I pound with both hands on her chest, yelling at her, “Rue, Dammit! You’re a fighter! FIGHT!” before I grab her nose and mouth again.
On the seventh breath, my prayers are answered and water bubbles up, making me choke as she coughs into my mouth. With both of us hacking, I turn her onto her side again. This time a geyser comes out of her mouth, and I’ve never seen anything more wonderful.
Her ghost-white hands grope the air like she’s clawing her way back to life.
Alec grabs both hands and holds them securely, looking at me with questions in his eyes as I repeat, “Breathe Rue. Breathe!”
She locks eyes with me, coughing and taking in her own oxygen, fear in her bloodshot eyes.
Sean’s blinking with gratitude.
Jenna’s crying, her hands on Rue’s calves.
“You saved me?” Rue asks in a gravelly voice, looking at me like she never would have thought it possible.
“I couldn’t let you make the last move, now could I? That’s not how I roll,” I laugh with tears blending into the water dripping from my hair as she coughs softly and gratifies my joke with a weak smile.
Jenna lets out a released-tension laugh. “Ruefus! Don’t you ever die like that on me again! I swear I will kill you myself.”
Forgetting myself, I pick up Rue and rock her. If she had died, I never would have forgiven myself. I would have been the cause, and for what? For what??? She holds onto me and whispers hoarsely into my ear, “I’m sorry.”
Shaking my head, I say, “No, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”
Sean catches my eyes as I look up. A silent exchange passes between us and he says, “We need to take her to a hospital to make sure she’s okay.”
Nodding grimly at the idea that she might be damaged from the drowning, I go to pick her up, water still dripping off both of us. Alec tries to take her from me, but I shake my head, tightening my hold. “I’ve got her.”
“Jack. Give her to me.” Struck by the fact that I care; a miracle in and of itself, he softens. “Jack, you’re shaking, man. It’s slippery out here. I’ve got shoes on.”
Reluctantly I hand her to him, and feel her hands unlocking around my neck to encircle his. I exhale, grateful to Alec for thinking straight and taking over.
I do feel shaky.
I hadn’t realized it in the adrenaline rush, and the last thing I want to do is drop her.
Rue calls over, “Thank you,” and I know it was meant for me, but the words have a rippling effect through my psyche. Thank me for what? I don’t deserve gratitude.
Jenna runs over and grabs their bags, then chases after Alec, grabbing onto Rue’s dangling feet just before they walk through the doors into the hotel.
Sean puts an arm around me, calling out to the lingering small crowd, “Okay, it’s all over. Thank you for your concern.” As people shuffle off whispering to each other, my brother looks at me with raised eyebrows. “What the hell happened?”
I drop my guilt to the cool limestone passing under our feet, staring at it as I answer, “It all happened so fast. She drowned. I wa
s talking to Jenna, and… we didn’t notice that she hadn’t come up.” I can’t look at him. “Let’s just get her to the hospital, make sure she’s okay.”
We walk together in silence until we get to the door leading inside the hotel. “Sean?” I stop him with my hand on the door before he can go through.
He cocks a quizzical glance to me. “Yeah? What’s up?”
I’m about to ask him, How many people do you think are walking around having a good time–laughing, meeting interesting new friends, tasting that perfect French fry, fucking someone they love or just love fucking, having kids or watching the kids they already had, grow up–because they didn’t succeed in killing themselves? How many had another chance and found out on the other end, that it gets better?
But I bite my tongue and open the door without saying a word of it, because he doesn’t know what I know–that she did that on purpose. And he for sure doesn’t know I tried to, once, too.
He doesn’t know that for a split second when I saw Rue swaying at the bottom of the pool, I understood her in a way that many can’t. I knew what she had been feeling when she didn’t kick her legs and let herself rise to the top. I knew that if she succeeded, it would be my fault. I also knew that I would have to tell her, as soon as I got the chance, that that feeling passes.
It passed for me…I never thought it would.
“Never mind. Let’s go.” He raises his eyebrows again, this time at my holding the door for him. “Shut up. Just go, while I’m feeling generous.”
A small laugh escapes his lips and he walks in. I watch the back of his head bob as he picks up the pace to a jog to catch up. I follow his lead, doing my best to shake the disappointment I feel in myself.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Alec
You Don’t Know Me: A Stand Alone Romance Page 14