by Liz Crowe
I just stand, phone to my ear, patting my foot impatiently on the floor. Someone’s lying. Everyone’s lying. This is mind-bendingly freakish. “Look, Leona, I can’t talk anymore. I don’t really know what’s going on, and I need time to think. I’ll talk to you later.” Before she has a chance to argue with me, I hang up. And damn it, I haven’t more than thrown the phone down before it rings again: Melissa.
“What do you want?”
She’s crying. Wow – a whole family of thespians. Great. “Kimmie? Please, Kimmie, Daddy told me what you said. Kimmie, he didn’t know. I never told him her husband’s name, and he didn’t know, I swear! Please, he’s so upset, please talk to him. He’d never hurt you, Kimmie, never. You have to know that.”
“I don’t know anything anymore. Were you in on this too?”
“Wha . . . what? In on what? I don’t understand.”
“What was the plan, Melissa? He won’t tell me. Maybe you should.”
“There was no plan! I’m telling you the truth! There was no plan. Kimmie, honest to god, if you think my dad would do something like this, you really don’t know him at all.”
That’s it, right there. “You’re right, Melissa. I think you’re absolutely, positively, one hundred and fifty percent right. I think I don’t really know him at all.” She tries to interrupt, but I just tell her plainly, “You’re a sweet girl. I’ve enjoyed spending time with you. But this is so, so, so fucked up that I don’t know what to think anymore. I’ve got to go. I’m upset and confused too.”
“But Kimmie –” I hang up on her just like I did the other two. My brain is in a tailspin, and I really don’t know what to do except sit and stare at the floor.
My phone keeps ringing – Jaz. I’m not answering it. Every time he calls, he leaves a voicemail. I don’t want to listen to them. Then Michael calls. “Kimmer, for the love of god, would you please tell me what’s going on?” he barks into the phone.
So I explain everything while he listens silently. When I’m finished, he just says, “I’m sorry, Kimmer. I can’t believe Jasper would do anything like this to you. Have you talked to him about it?”
“Lies. All lies.”
“Honey, you should at least hear him out. The two of you have gotten along so well, and you’ve been so happy together . . .”
“And all the while he was planning something horrible. I’m positive of it.”
“Kimmer, that’s just ridiculous. I know how it looks, but it’s ridiculous. It’s just a simple coincidence. I have to believe that.”
“Simple coincidence? Well, I don’t. It’s too much. Will you at least support me in this? Please? I could use someone I can trust, because it sure seems like I don’t have anyone right now.”
“Only on one condition.”
I feel it coming. “Yeah? What’s that?”
“That you come to our house and meet with him. Talk to him. I just don’t believe he’d do something like that to you. I can’t. I mean, if he wanted to do you in, he’s had ample opportunities. Why didn’t he just go ahead and do it?”
I shrug to myself. “I don’t know. Maybe he was waiting to get my insurance money.”
“So he took out an insurance policy on you?”
“No. But maybe he was going to.”
A huge sigh comes out of the phone. “Do you hear how ridiculous you sound now?”
“Oh, now I sound ridiculous. Thanks. Thanks a lot.” I can feel the anger leaving me and a big ball of hurt and exhaustion taking its place. “I need to go. I’ve got to get some rest. I’ve got a flight back tomorrow and I’m going to have to move back to my house.”
“Promise me you’ll talk to him. And get some professional help. I think you need it.”
“I’ll think about it.” And just like with Jasper and Leona and Melissa, I hang up on him.
Weird shadows fall on the ceiling and walls during the night, and the quiet is interrupted off and on by people laughing or yelling, or a dog barking, or a car horn. I lie awake in the dark, staring at the ceiling, and listen to my phone buzz. I turned off the ringer, but it keeps vibrating with every call, and I know who it is. I finally start listening to some of his voicemails.
“Kimmie, baby, please, I don’t know what’s going on, but whatever it is, we can fix it. I love you, Kimmie. Please come on home. I love you. Bye.” I hit DELETE and go to the next one.
“Kimmie, it’s me. I just talked to Melissa. I can’t believe you think I was plotting to do something to you or get some kind of weird revenge. Have I ever hurt you? I’ve never hurt you, baby. Please come home and we can straighten all of this out. Please? I love you so much, baby girl. Call me back, please? Bye.” Once again, DELETE.
The next one takes me by surprise – a little. “Kimmie, baby, I called Meredith and we talked. Honey, she didn’t know I was engaged to Phil’s ex-wife any more than I knew she was married to your ex-husband. Neither of us knew. Baby, please come home. It hurts me to know that you think I’d do something like that to you. What have I ever done to make you think I’d do something like that? What? I’ve never done anything. Look, you don’t have to stay here. You can stay with Michael and his wife until we get this worked out, okay? But please come home. I miss you. Please?” His voice breaks as he says, “You’re the most important thing in my world. I just want to hold you and kiss you and make everything all right. I’ll be waiting here for you. I love you, Kimmie. Bye.” And again, I hit DELETE.
And if I thought that one was a surprise, the next one blows me away. “Is this Kimberly Hendricks? Kimberly, this is Meredith Renzada. I just wanted you to know that I’ve talked with Jasper. First, you need to know that after what happened between us, it took a lot to get him to call me and talk to me, but he did, and he’s very broken up about whatever this is that you think is going on. The things that happened between us were a long time ago, and I was very sick. I’ve had a lot of therapy and a lot of treatment and I’m doing very well. But I wanted you to know that I had no idea he was engaged to Phil’s ex-wife, I mean, you. Well, you’re Phil’s ex-wife. But you know what I mean. Look, I don’t know what you think was going on, but neither of us knew who the other was involved with. So please, talk to him. He didn’t do anything wrong, really. I wish you’d stayed at Phil’s visitation. I would’ve loved to meet you. Melissa says lovely things about you. Well, okay then. Sorry to bother you. I hope the two of you work this out. Goodbye.” I start to erase it, but it’s Meredith fucking Renzada, the soap opera star. No one will believe me if I tell them.
The darkness is like a big, fluffy blanket, hiding me from the world and keeping the world away from me. I try to sleep, but I can’t. I just lie there in my cocoon, waiting for dawn, so I can go back to Chicago and face my ruined life.
Chapter Fifteen
When I get back to town, I go straight to my little house. I don’t want to talk to anybody or see anybody. I don’t even go to the workshop the next day. After cancelling every appointment I had, I just hide out. Jaz tries to call me several times during the day; matter of fact, everybody does. I guess no one understands that my brain is overtaxed and I can’t deal with anything. Even a conversation seems too hard. I just lie in bed and wish I could die.
The next day, halfway through the day, someone knocks on my front door and I go to it and yell through, “Who is it?”
“Kimmie, baby, please, let me in?”
“No. Go away.”
“Kimmie, I have a key. I could . . .”
“And I’ll call the cops, I swear I will.”
“Baby, please, just talk to me?”
“Not yet. I need you to go away.” I wait, and then I hear the sound of a car starting and pulling away. I look out the window over the sofa to see his car leaving. I think about what it feels like when he holds me and I want him so much, but I can’t trust him now. Maybe no one else knew anything about this, but he certainly did. Maybe he acted alone. That makes no difference. It’s still just as bad, and my heart’s just as broke
n.
The following day, he calls three times; the next, twice. Finally, on the fourth day after the trip, he doesn’t call at all. I breathe a huge sigh of relief, and I start to wonder what will happen when I sit down and talk to him finally. I know he’s waiting for that. I’m feeling better and stronger, and not quite so afraid of him. He hasn’t come over and tried to knock down my door or anything. To me, that’s a sign that he knows I’m onto him and I won’t take any shit from him.
Several days pass without a call, and I decide it’s about time that we talked – at Michael and Robyn’s, of course. I don’t want to be alone with him. That’s not going to work. While I put away my work for the day, I make the decision to call Michael when I get home and see if we can arrange for a meeting the next evening. I stop and pick up a sandwich on my way home and then head in for a quiet night. And when I open the front door, I get a big surprise.
My things. Everything I had over at Jaz’s is there in the living room. It’s all neatly packed in boxes and stacked there. On top of it is a note:
I hope this is everything. After I lock the door, I’ll put the key in the pot holding the marigolds. If anything is missing, have Michael call me and I’ll take it to him. You can keep the ring.
Jaz
Something twists in my gut, and I call Michael’s cell. When he answers it, instead of saying hello, he just says, “Before you say a word, let me just say that I support his decision.”
“Michael, what the hell’s going on?”
He sighs. “He called me last night and told me he couldn’t be with someone who thinks of him what you do. I guess all your stuff is there?”
“Yes.” My voice sounds hollow in my ears.
“That’s what I thought. He tried to talk to you, Kimmer. He wanted to talk to you. You accused him of some horrible things and just shut him out, and I don’t think he could handle that. I don’t blame him for feeling that way. He loves you, but he doesn’t want to be treated like that.”
“I was planning to call you tonight, ask if we could come over to your place tomorrow night and talk. Maybe if I call him . . .”
“I don’t think it’ll do any good. You can try, but I don’t think so.”
My heart is about to pound out of my chest and I’m getting lightheaded. This was not what I thought was going to happen – at all. I thought we’d meet, talk, maybe iron it out, maybe not, but he’d at least try, and maybe he’d confess what his plan had been so I’d know what his intentions were. “I’m calling him now, Michael. If we meet, can we do it there?”
“Sure. Let me know.”
“Thanks.” My hands are shaking so hard that I can barely hold the phone, and for the first time I find myself thinking, Maybe I overreacted. I hit his contact and it rings long enough that I’m pretty sure it’s going to voicemail before he finally says, “Hello?”
“Jaz?”
“Yes?”
I wait. That’s all he says. I thought he’d start asking me to talk to him, to come home, to believe him, but he says nothing else. “Um, Jaz, I was going to call Michael tonight and ask him if we could meet at their house tomorrow night to talk.”
Just as evenly and matter-of-factly as I’ve ever heard, he says, “No. But thanks anyway.”
No, but thanks anyway? “Listen, I just needed some time to think about everything and . . .”
“Kimberly.” I stop dead in my tracks. He hasn’t called me that in forever, and I know the next sound I hear will be the other shoe dropping. “I needed some time to think about everything too. And I came to the conclusion that I don’t want to be with somebody who would believe those kinds of horrible things about me. I’m sorry. I just can’t.”
“But Jaz, you have to understand, that’s an awfully big coincidence and I couldn’t . . .”
“Doesn’t matter. I can’t do that, be with somebody who might think that kind of thing about me. You wouldn’t even talk to me. You just pushed me away. I’m sorry. If you think of anything else you’ve left behind, like I said in the note, just let Michael know. He’ll tell me and I’ll get it to you through him.”
His tone, the passivity of it, the detachment in it, lets me know that I’ve committed a grievous error. Trembling and in little more than a whisper, I croak out, “I love you, Jaz.”
“I love you too. But I can’t be in a relationship like that. So it’s over. You’re welcome to the ring, and I’m sorry everything turned out this way. I was looking forward to a lifetime with you. I hope you find someone you can love and trust in ways you couldn’t love and trust me. Goodbye, Kimberly.”
“But Jaz, I . . .” And the phone goes dead in my hand.
A feeling of dread unlike anything I’ve ever known winds around my body. What have I done? What was I thinking?
I make a decision to go over there, so I grab my purse and run to the car. When I knock on the door, no one comes at first, so I knock again. After the third round of knocking, the door opens.
He’s standing there in those worn jeans and a Cubs tee-shirt, barefoot. Instead of the Jaz I know, this one is pale and drawn, and his eyes are sunken and dark. He just stands there, door open, arm resting on the facing as he blocks the doorway. After a little bit of fidgeting, I quietly ask, “Can I come in?”
“No.” I start to say something, but he interrupts. “Kimberly, there’s nothing to say. There’s no reason for you to be here.”
Without thinking, I reach for him, but I almost gasp when he backs away, a horrified look on his face. “Jaz, please . . .”
“Please, call me Jasper. And no. Don’t touch me. This is over. I’m sorry it has to be this way.” With that, he closes the door in my face.
All I can do is stand there in stunned silence. It’s over. If he’d been planning something dreadful for me, he wouldn’t have handed over everything I had here. Yes, I overreacted. I was so afraid, so shocked and terrified, that I let my imagination run away with me. But the emotions I’m experiencing now are even more terrifying. I can’t even draw a breath – my heart and lungs are just frozen. I’ve thrown away the love of my life, a man who never did anything but love me and try to please me. All I wanted was a little time to think things through.
Looks like I waited a little too long.
*****
I have to go to the courthouse for Angus’s arraignment, but he pleads guilty, so there’ll be no trial. I look around to see if Jaz is there, hoping he’d at least come to support me, but he’s nowhere to be found. At least I know where Angus is and that he won’t be bothering me.
At Michael’s insistence, I find a counselor. I had no idea how much damage Phil had done, and I’m still paying for the way he treated me. It hadn’t been obvious to me before, but now I see that, for all my yearning to move forward, his verbal abuse and neglect held me back and made me afraid and paranoid. Jaz never offered me anything but truth and love, and something inside me didn’t want to see that; it couldn’t trust. Exposing his worst behavior was what I was seeking, and I couldn’t make that happen, so I let my imagination run away with me. All I could do was be fearful that history would repeat itself. And it has. Unfortunately, this time, to my shame, it’s totally my fault.
And it’s come back with a vengeance, that need to hurt. I’ve been afraid to go to the club for fear I’ll run into Jaz; even so, I can’t hold out anymore. I need it so badly that I can’t think.
For the first time since I met Jaz, I scene with someone else. Alexander is handy, and I tell him what I need. His point of negotiation is simple: He gives me the pain I need, and I give him the sex he wants. Hell, why not? No reason why that can’t happen. After working me over with a stiff flogger, he takes me to a private room and fucks me like I’m just a dog. After he’s fucked my pussy until he’s come, he fucks my ass for another thirty minutes. Even though I’m not sure I can take it, the pain and degradation are welcome. And that’s okay. I deserve whatever I get.
But during the scene, I turn my head, gasping in pain, and ther
e he is. When our eyes meet, the agony I see in those brown ones pierces my gut just as Alexander is lashing me so hard that I can’t breathe. Then Jaz does the one thing that crushes my heart – he shakes his head ever so slightly and just walks away. It’s final confirmation that what we had is gone, pulverized like old bones and blown into the wind. When Alexander releases me and drags me toward the private room, I silently pray that whatever he does to me, it’ll kill me. Going on is something I don’t really want to do.
Striped and aching, I leave the private room for the dressing area and pull on my jeans and an old tee. The cotton of the shirt is abrasive on my raw skin, and something trickles down my back. Blood? I don’t care, really don’t. What happens to me now doesn’t matter.
As I leave, I see him. He’s across the room with a redhead and, just like that time before, he never acknowledges me as I walk through. Even though I try to catch his eye, he’s resisting it, and there’s something different about him, but I can’t figure out what it is. I just go home and cry myself to sleep, the pain of my punishment faint compared to the misery in my heart.
And that’s what I do every night. Days turn to weeks and weeks to months and, as time goes by, I see him at the club less and less frequently, then finally not at all. In the meantime, Mr. Augustino has a heart attack and dies, and I hear that Candy’s been evicted from their home. His kids claim she only married him to get his money. They’re all rich enough to pursue a judgment against her and she doesn’t have the finances to defend herself, so she’s homeless. I worry what will happen to her and her baby – a beautiful little girl – and I make a mental note to ask Michael about her.
It’s been five months since I’ve seen Jaz, and the days are getting short, the wind picking up off the lakes announcing winter’s approach. I settle into the sofa after dinner with my tablet, and I’ve just gotten into the story in the book I’m reading when my phone rings. “Hello, Michael. How are you, sir?”