He was sorry, standing there limply holding the pool basket in one hand as if it grounded him, albeit only in dirty water. Josh ached to go to Jessie, to hold her and breathe in her lavender essence and tell her he was so, so sorry, but he couldn’t. He had to stay in reality, with Michelle. He needed the chance for a real future that included children and safety and some sense of normalcy, for his own sanity, if not for the sake of Michelle, who was suffering enough, living under Jessie’s memory and shadow.
Why won’t she go, he wondered, his throat hurting from the effort not to beg Jessie to come back to him. She seemed planted there, afraid to move ahead and afraid to move backwards, as he had felt at his birthday party.
He didn’t know Jessie was afraid she might crack, that she sometimes thought of herself as a sculpture so clumsily made it had no real foundation on which to stand, or glue to hold it together. She was a fairy’s wing, invisible; she thought herself capable of only floating away. Walking seemed impossible.
Josh threw the pool basket aside. It landed next to the heap of sopping wet leaves, now surrounded by puddles of tainted water.
The metal pole hitting the deck jarred her out of her shock, and Jessie watched as Josh made the effort to turn his bare toes around and pad quietly back inside the home he shared with Michelle.
Jessie bit her lip, wishing she had the guts to yell after him, one long noooo, it’s not really my fault you know, none of this is really my fault! She was thinking of her dad just then, and screaming once more at him why did you have to go ahead and die? Because it seemed like that was the whole reason for the downward turn her life had taken, when he died and her mother seemingly forgot her and her stepfather abused her and Deuce McCall enjoyed her.
There was a small round deck table six feet away from Jessie. She forced her boots to move ahead, and they thudded quietly on the pool deck, disembodied and distant. Gingerly, she set the little envelope of tickets down next to a lime green striped glass half full of water Josh must have been drinking while he cleaned the pool. Jessie wrapped her fingers around it just to soak up his essence because she couldn’t touch him and she needed to feel his energy in and around her just then, at least enough to get her back around and up the steps and down the driveway to where Dan waited for her beside the car.
Dan didn’t ask why Jessie climbed into the back seat this time. He, like Matt, was astute enough to know how hard this visit would be for her. He had just been chatting with Matt, who was on his way over to Josh’s as well right now to check on the mounted cameras and ensure the security at his place was functioning fine before the concert. Dan wondered whether he should ask his boss to come at a later time, if Josh was feeling anything like Jessie right now, but he decided to stay out of it.
He drove Jessie back to her condo and checked out her place before allowing her inside. Since Jacob was still spending long days with Charles at the Robson studio, Jessie climbed into her cozy bed and, fully clothed, cried herself to sleep, her arms wrapped around a soft pillow, her heart empty.
***
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Jessie! Geez.”
Jacob was not pleased with his gal when he wandered in the door at eight that evening. He overheard Charles talking with Matt about the updated security at Josh’s place, and gleaned that Dan had driven Jessie over there to drop off tickets for the concert. He also understood immediately from Charles’ expression that her mood crashed immediately afterwards.
“Are you a glutton for punishment or what?”
She was huddled in the semi-darkness on the couch facing the entrance to the condo, wrapped in her cherry-blossom duvet, a glass of Baileys in one hand and an ashtray by her side. She did not even bother to go outside to smoke, which supposedly she was cutting down on, and so the place stank like cigarettes and dejection.
“Not now, Jacob,” she said glumly, taking another drag on yet another cigarette.
He sat down beside her and lit up his own smoke. After his first puff Jacob put first one boot and then the other on the coffee table and leaned back against the cushion.
“I just don’t understand why you went over there. That’s all.”
“To give them some tickets. To call a truce, maybe.”
“Bullshit.”
“Fuck off, Jacob.”
“No, Jessie, I won’t feck off.” He hadn’t adjusted to North America as quickly as Jessie. “I know how you feel about him, and as much as I hate to see him slash your balls again and again, I also can’t stand the thought of you being around him. Period.”
“He’s not a threat, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Like hell he’s not. And Michelle knows it as well as I do.”
They were quiet for a second as they pondered the verity of that statement. Then Jessie decided to let her funk rule the conversation. Besides, she told herself ruefully. I’m PMSing. I can say whatever the hell I want.
“Jacob, why don’t you just admit you’re only using me to get to Charles anyway? Then we’ll be even, okay?”
Sobered, Jacob responded, “That’s a helluva thing to say.”
“Yeah well, truth will bite you in the ass.”
“Look Jessie, I don’t deny that it’s exciting – you’ve had this for years, and for some reason I don’t think you ever got excited about it in the first place. But for some of us, the chance to work with someone like Charles Keating is fecking awesome. So don’t go spoiling it on me.”
She was quiet for a while, contemplative, but he could see where she was going when she spoke again. “Jacob, I know this is cool for you, but you cash in one thing for another when you go for this dream, you call it. And I would think with all the bullshit you are seeing me go through, the lack of privacy and I can’t even drive my own fucking car anymore, for God’s sake…that maybe you would see there’s a downside to success in the entertainment biz.”
Jessie butted out her smoke and then swung around to face Jacob. Resting an elbow on the arm of the sofa, she added softly, “I can’t tell you how great it was to just be someone else, hanging out with you guys at the pub in Edinburgh. There were no expectations, nothing – no Deuce the fuck McCall hanging around waiting to pounce…”
She wrapped her fingers around his hand after he leaned over her and butted out in the ashtray.
“It was so nice just to be normal for a while, you know? Are you sure you want to cash all that in?”
“Normal?” Jacob grinned sheepishly at Jessie. He raised one eyebrow. “The last thing you were was normal, with your red hair then your purple hair and that erotic night with Katrine.”
Blushing, Jessie squished her hands over her eyes. “Oh God,” she said. “That was some night.” She looked up at him and smiled genuinely. “Katrine. I miss her. I can’t wait until she and John Paul arrive.”
“Me too,” Jacob agreed. “And Jessie, don’t think I don’t know what I’m getting into. I do see what you go through, but I still want at least some part of that.”
“Be careful what you wish for, babe,” she said. “You just might get it.”
He rolled over and stretched out, and Jessie cradled his head in her lap.
“What are you wishing for these days, Jessie? Should I be worried about Josh?”
“Oh I don’t know, Jacob. I’m wishing for this thing with Deuce to end without anybody getting hurt. That’s all. And then maybe trying to live some kind of ordinary life, at least on some ordinary schedule, I guess. Not so crazy like before. With more time to spend with Charles and Dee and Matt and Carlotta and Steve and Sophie and Charlie and Jane…”
“Josh and Michelle?”
Sigh. “Not so much. No. Probably best to just stay away from them and get him out of my system, I guess. To be fair to you too,” she added soberly. “I know it hasn’t been fair to you.”
“I knew what I was getting into,” he admitted, turning on his side, wrapping an arm around her knees.
“Still.”
“Yeah, we
ll. Whatever. One day at a time.”
After a while, as she could feel his breathing start to even out, Jessie jarred him awake with one more question. “Jacob? Are you scared about the concert? About Deuce showing up?”
Sleepily he said, “Do you really think he will?”
She paused. “Yeah. I kinda do. He got worse that last summer. Like his psychosis or whatever you want to call it was escalating. It got to the point where he couldn’t stand not having me after that last show. Unless we’ve gotten really lucky and he’s died of cancer or a heart attack or something.”
“Helluva thing to wish on someone.” She could barely hear Jacob. He was beat. Becoming a star was exhausting business.
“Yeah, well. At least then it would be over.”
“Matt’ll throw him in jail.”
Jacob started to snore before she added quietly, “But then it wouldn’t be over.”
Jessie sat with Jacob cradled on her lap for a full hour before her belly growled and she gently woke him. They ordered take-out from the Noodle Box, watched an old John Ford western starring John Wayne, and made love before drifting off to sleep.
Jessie had to pinch herself, it all felt so damned normal.
***
Yogurt is known for its energizing properties, and Jessie often spooned a container of some fruity kind into her body before working out at either the modest Keating home gym or the larger one at the building on Robson. Today, she was sitting in a comfy cushioned chair with her feet up on the countertop in her dressing room at Rogers Arena, spooning small bites of strawberry banana yogurt into her mouth and waiting for Jacob to finish his sound check so she could begin hers. He was on stage with John Paul; she could hear the boys nervously dialoguing with the sound technician as they set levels for the evening’s show, which had easily sold out. Billed as Jessie Wheeler’s return, most of the tickets from the cancelled show almost two years earlier were honored. Although fans received refunds at the time, they were all added to a mailing list and received discounted tickets to this show before any other tickets were put on sale.
Jacob and John Paul were an opening act for Jessie’s show. Jacob would join her on stage mid-concert for a few duets as well. It was a huge opportunity for both boys, a hefty jump from the small pub in Edinburgh. Charles had been working with Jacob on the production value of the boys’ songs, and he also provided a back line band to open up their sound and give them a full broad base on which to anchor their music.
Now, Jessie was listening to program sound on the overhead speakers in her dressing room, and she got a kick out of how nervous Jacob sounded. Tonight would be a wake-up call for him, yet she knew he would do just fine. Even John Paul was enjoying the experience. She could hear Katrine’s faint voice from time to time – the petite French girl was hanging around stage left watching the boys suffer through the detailed sound and tech check. Charlene was stuck back in Edinburgh, on the nine to five grind, unable to get the time off to travel, pissed as hell.
A loud knock at Jessie’s door startled her, and the yogurt almost slipped from her hands. Regaining her senses, she turned her head and hollered, “Come in!”
Dan was stationed outside the dressing room, and Ulysses and Matt were around somewhere supervising other security folks, so anyone as diabolical as Deuce McCall would have to run the gauntlet to make it anywhere near Jessie. She was struggling to remain somewhat relaxed, considering what she thought this concert might eventually unleash. She kept her feet propped up on the counter, rocked the big chair back and forth, back and forth, and continued tentatively licking her strawberry banana tipped spoon as her visitors stepped inside.
Peeking behind and over to the side, where the entrance to the room was a short hallway leading to a brightly lit open space, she was happy to see Charlie and Steve enter, followed by Jane and Sophie.
“Hey,” she greeted them, as the boys sat on the counter facing her after pulling up chairs for the girls.
A resounding chorus of heys and hellos hailed her in response.
Steve jumped down after a few seconds and headed to the craft service table piled high with fruit, water, chips and other assorted munchies. No Jim Beam this time, no alcohol at all in fact, nor was an ashtray in sight. Jessie was really trying, at least in public, and Deirdre was pleased.
Steve picked out a robust orange and started to peel it, dropping the skin in a compost pail.
“Nervous?” Charlie asked Jessie.
“Meh,” she shrugged. “Whatever.”
To be truthful, part of her didn’t really care. She had exerted so much energy worrying, and then revisiting in her mind the hell of the last concert here, that she shut off the part of her brain that allowed herself to even think beyond one hour at a time. Plus, she knew once she took the stage she could hide behind her music and float away above the crowd to a place that didn’t hurt anymore. That’s why she continued to do what she did – because there was something otherworldly about playing in such a large arena, with the audio system and the musicians backing her up. The ballads were her favorites – her voice reached the rafters of the building, strong and sure, and despite certain crowd noises like cell phones and coughing, she disappeared inside herself and heard nothing except the song she was singing at the time. Those moments on stage were nothing short of sacred, to her as well as to the fans.
There would be one fan missing tonight, and that angered and bothered Jessie. She was a little short with her friends now as they chatted amicably about the show and about Jacob and JP, whom they too could hear during the sound check. After a bit, Sophie and Jane strolled off to purchase souvenir T-shirts for family and friends. That left Jessie staring up at the boys.
Charlie jumped down and ducked into the washroom at the far side of the big dressing room. Steve cocked his head at Jessie.
“What?” He asked her between bites of his orange. He had worked with her on Drifters long enough to almost read her mind as well as Josh did.
Jessie settled further back into her comfy chair. “He’s not coming, is he?”
“Aw Jess, come on. Let it go. You have to let him try to sort things out with Michelle. Besides, you know he’ll stream it.”
She pouted. “It’s not the same. Half the time that online crap doesn’t even work properly anyway. It gets all stuttery or the sound goes out of synch or something.”
“Whatever. Josh will watch what he can of the show.”
“His fucking sister’s in it. He could have told Michelle he was coming to see Kayla.”
“You don’t think she knows better?” He flicked a seed into the garbage. Carefully he added without looking at her, “You have to let him go.”
“Do I?” She stared up at the ceiling and concentrated on following a long water stain as it tracked across the tiles.
“What about Jacob?”
“What about Jacob?”
“He’s nuts about you.”
“He’s nuts about Charles.”
“And you.”
Jessie regarded Steve with a serious gaze. “What if I told you I think Josh would be safer here than at home?”
“Are you telling me you think Deuce might still go after him?”
“Damn straight.”
“Why wouldn’t he go after Jacob?”
“He’s not stupid. He has eyes. Anyways I told Matt that too. I heard he stepped things up at Josh’s place. Just in case,” she added quietly as an afterthought.
Charlie meandered back into the main part of the room and stopped at the food table. He picked out some chocolate and then plopped down beside Jessie, who squished over to make room. “What are we talking about?”
He was met with stony silence from both Jessie and Stephen. “What?” he asked again, pushing a piece of an Aero bar between Jessie’s lips.
Steve sighed. “It’s a little weird that this concert is a celebration of Jessie’s music that’s in fact masking an ominous threat, that’s all. No biggie,” he added sarcastically.
>
Eyeing Jessie to see how she was really handling the heavy emotion wrought by the day, Charlie said judiciously, “Charles and Matt have it under control, Jess. You’re safe.”
She glared up at the ceiling once again. The crack seemed to be getting bigger, or was it her imagination? Nothing seemed to stay the same these days. She grossly overestimated everything – every shadow, every unexpected sound. Even her refrigerator groaning and knocking every night, jarring her out of a semi-peaceful slumber, was a threat.
“I know that, Charlie. I’m just anxious to get the ball rolling, that’s all.”
“The concert or the – well, McCall?”
“Deuce. I want the concert to be over so I can face Deuce.”
“What if he doesn’t show?” Steve asked.
“He will.”
“And you will let us know.” Charlie said definitively. “Or I will never speak to you again, Jessie Wheeler.”
She elbowed him, finally smiling a little. “Promises, promises!”
Charlie laid an arm gracefully around her shoulders. “Listen, little girl,” he said. “Stop worrying. What will be will be, and you are not alone this time. Matt has covered all the bases. So just go out there and put on a great show, and enjoy every second of it. I know I will. We all will.”
He thought of his dark days wandering the Downtown Eastside wondering where Jessie was and, in fact, whether or not she was still alive. The excruciating pain of missing her and pondering what cruel fate may have befallen her almost did him in, damaged them all irreparably, despite how well they all seemed to be functioning. He prayed Matt did indeed have her security under control. Charlie glanced up at Steve and could see by the worry lines shooting out from the corners of his eyes that he felt the same. The boys’ eyes locked as they finally acknowledged what they were all thinking but preferred to avoid, that the concert was indeed nothing more than a lure. That Jessie was still in grave danger and so was, likely, Jacob.
No Greater Love Page 31