Cracked (27 page)

Then after we’d split, Jack had really gone off the rails. Six months of calling me, thinking he was being followed daily, then in a moment of clarity, he said, he checked himself into a hospital.

“In the States,” he said. “Good private hospital.” I nodded. He could afford it.

He stayed there for three months, he said, during which time the psychiatrists had him on a pharmacological regimen that seemed to suit him. They said he wasn’t schizophrenic, just severely bipolar, with paranoid delusions.

“Oh, is that all,” I said.

When he got out, he continued working. Took the gig in Bermuda, then on Grand Cayman, then back to Bermuda. He didn’t socialize, he said. Other than a few “paid companions” here and there, he kept to himself. Information I didn’t need to know. It got lonely in Bermuda, he said. An island of 65,000 people, and the ex-pats and locals had a very strict divisive line. Ideal, in a way, for a loner like Jack, but at the same time, not anonymous enough. He said he didn’t really talk to anyone during that time. Once or twice a year he’d phone a couple of his buddies from hockey back in Canada, but that was about it. “Fighting?” I asked. He nodded slightly.

“Just enough to keep my hand in,” he said. “Getting old.”

“Working out, though.”

Jack smiled. “Of course.” He took a swig from his glass. “Then,” he said, “Ginger called.”

He said she was lonely, that Fred was away all the time. She was concerned for him, she said. And wanted to talk about me.

“She knew, Danny,” Jack said. “About the crack.”

“I know,” I said. “Jack. I’ll never be able to shake this guilt.” He looked at me for a minute, and put his hand over mine.

“Danny,” he said. “You’re going to have to. You have responsibilities.” I nodded. I wasn’t sure what they were, but he was probably right.

“Continue,” I said. I let his hand stay on mine, until he decided to move it.

Jack and Ginger talked on the phone once a week or so, for a few months. He was getting worried about her, sensing there was a lot she wasn’t telling him about what was going on in California. She would never talk about Fred, but she talked about the boys a lot.

“Did you know Matty came first in his class last year?” Jack said. “He’s a smart kid.”

“No,” I said. “I didn’t know.” There was so much I didn’t know. A fresh wave of guilt washed over me, and made me nauseous.

“Don’t throw up, Danny,” Jack said. He knew me well enough. “Stay calm.”

“I’m fine,” I said. I took a sip of his soda, and nodded for him to go ahead.

Jack decided to go to California and see Ginger and Fred and the boys. Take a holiday from the islands and see what life was like in the real world. When he got there, he said, he knew something was wrong. This was not the Fred he knew when we were married. He was paranoid, angry, never home.

And Jeanette was living there. As the nanny.

Jack shook his head. “The second I saw her, Danny…” Jack stopped. “It was as though the world had ended, for the second time.”

I didn’t know whether the first was when he left The Family, or when I had left him. I didn’t think I wanted to know.

“At first, I didn’t know how to play it,” Jack said. “When I was finally able to get Jeanette alone – and she did a lot to prevent that – she pretended she didn’t know who I was, that she had never seen me before. She pretended so well, and it had been so many years…”

“You almost believed her,” I said.

Jack nodded. “Well, not really, of course. But my head…”

“Yeah,” I said. “I know.”

“Ginger and Jeanette were thick as thieves,” Jack said. “Did everything together. Ginger told me she never wanted to hire a nanny, wanted to take care of her own kids, but Fred insisted.”

“So I gather,” I said. A fresh wave of anger at Fred made me close my eyes.

“But once Jeanette was there? Ginger loved her. They had fun. And I couldn’t figure out what the game was. I mean, Jeanette seemed to really love the boys, and I knew Ginger loved having her there. And… well, I liked seeing her too,” Jack said. He looked at me. “You left me.”

“Oh my God, Jack,” I started to say, but he stopped me.

“Danny, I’m sorry. I understand. I shouldn’t have said that. It was just – I was vulnerable.”

I didn’t want to hear this. I had to hear this.

“She told me that she’d stayed with Michael for five years after I left, but things were never the same. And she knew Michael wouldn’t let her leave of her own accord, so she started saving her bits of money until she could get far away.”

Despite my hatred for the woman, I shivered. I could imagine what she had had to do to earn that money.

“We had a little thing again,” Jack was saying. “I was lonely. It was nothing.” Jack looked at his hands and squeezed them together until the knuckles went white. It had been a long time since I had seen that gesture. “Ginger never knew. Or – oh God, I think she didn’t. I hope Jeanette never told her. It was just brief. But, Danny, Ginger told me that Jeanette had been recommended by a friend of theirs, of hers and Fred’s. It was a fluke, as far as I knew. I mean, how could it not be? Jeanette never saw a picture of me around the house either, and said she had no idea of my connection to the family.”

“And you believed her?” I put my glass down. I needed crack. I couldn’t deal with this. “The one time you choose to put your paranoia aside.”

“Ginger’s not much for pictures,” Jack continued. “I mean, you and I had been split for a while. How could she know about your sister? I thought that was too paranoid, even for me.” He rubbed his hand over his face. “Obviously I was wrong,” he said.

Pure bloodlust. That’s what I realized I was feeling. I wanted so badly to hurt this woman, to give her a small taste of what she had done to the people I loved. And I wasn’t feeling quite as warm towards Jack – or Scott – now either. How could he believe that woman?

“What about the drugs,” I wanted to know.

“I don’t think they were doing drugs yet,” Jack said. “I mean, Ginger knew you were. She talked to me about how worried she was, how you wouldn’t let her fly out and visit you. But Ginger still looked like Ginger. Maybe a tiny bit thinner, but really, she was doing the whole Orange County thing, and I could see how Fred was pressuring her to be a different person. I tried to talk to him, you know, man to man and all that crap Fred likes,” Jack said. “But he wasn’t listening. Seemed paranoid.”

“She was blackmailing him,” I said.

Jack nodded. “I know that now,” he said. “It was all just starting. It was after I left that the drugs happened, and… all the rest of it.” Jack looked around for the waitress.

“And now they’re after you,” I said. “Michael’s after you.”

“Ten thousand a day, Danny,” Jack said. “That’s what I’m paying to keep the boys alive.” He gazed at me. “I left. I left and didn’t look back, and I know that man wants me dead. But he hasn’t finished milking me yet.”

For one wild and shameful moment, I thought about how much crack ten thousand dollars would buy. Enough for oblivion.

“Why did they keep me alive?” I wanted to know. “Why didn’t they kill me when they killed Dominic?” I had filled Jack in on my adventure at the Sunny Jim.

“For me, I think,” he said. “If you died, I’d just go after them. As much as I love the boys, I wouldn’t have been able to…” He stopped and shook his head.

“Jack,” I said, and stopped. He was my husband. He was paying to keep the twins alive. I had a flashback to having sex with Miller in the hospital, and felt something like shame.

“Where are the boys,” I said gently. “You said you knew.”

He shook his head. “No, I didn’t. I know that Jeanette has them, and I know that they’re in Toronto, and I think I know where. But I’m not sure.” We were silent for a minute. “They want me back. Jeanette wants me back. Michael wants to take what I have, and come back into the fold, according to Jeanette. One big happy family again. When I saw Jeanette at Ginger’s she told me she had no idea where Michael was, hoped he was dead. I actually believed her.”

I felt sick.

“I broke Lola’s arm and nose yesterday,” I said conversationally.

“Oh, Danny. This is not good for us,” he said. “Lola was like Jeanette’s little sister, the whole time we were with Michael. They had a special bond. This isn’t good,” he repeated. But at the same time, I could see that he was a little proud of me. I told him about the events of the last days. It felt so good to talk to him, to tell him everything. Almost everything.

Jack motioned for the waitress. He ordered me another glass of wine, a Shiraz this time.

“Sexist pig,” I said. “You didn’t even ask me.”

“I always did know what you need, baby,” Jack said, in his Barry White voice. I laughed out loud.

I looked at Jack, the man I had never stopped loving. I watched his face, the crinkles around his eyes, the funny dent in his head above his left ear. His big strong neck and shoulders. He wanted to know about how I got into crack. It wasn’t much of a story, and I told him.

“Oh, the old story,” I said. “Girl leaves marriage, very sad, starts drinking too much at neighborhood watering hole, meets fun new friends who do cocaine. Then fun new friends start doing crack, and girl doesn’t see how she can hurt herself any further, so she jumps down the rabbit hole. She thinks she can climb back out anytime she wants. She can’t.”

Jack grunted. He wanted to know if I was seeing anybody.

Miller? Gene? I didn’t know what to say to Jack about either of them.

“By your pause, I am guessing yes,” Jack said. “Who’s the lucky guy?” He looked out the window casually, as though we were discussing the weather. I could see a muscle in his temple twitch.

I decided to leave Miller out of the equation. “I have a friend,” I said. “Not what you think, but not exactly not either,” I said. I looked at Jack. I believed him, of course I did. I wanted to. But what would Jeanette have to gain by beating Gene to a bloody pulp? “He’s in the hospital,” I ventured.

“Overdose?” Jack asked, not without a bit of bitterness.

“No,” I said. I told him about Gene being tied to my bed, about his face, and having to have his spleen removed. Jack listened, as only Jack could do.

“I’m sorry, Danny,” Jack said. “I’m sorry for you, but not for him. Is he the one who got you started?” Into the life, he meant.

“What does it matter?” I said. I wished someone would clear the table. I’d only had a few bites, despite my appetite, and now the meat looked extra bloody, whilst we were talking about Gene in the hospital. “Did you have something to do with this?”

“No,” he said. “Why would I bother beating some crackhead?”

Some crackhead. “Good point,” I said. “Low-life, right? He got what was coming to him.”

“That’s not for me to judge,” he said. “But if it was this guy who got you hooked on crack, I’m not sorry he’s in the hospital.”

“You got me hooked on crack, Jack,” I said. The waitress was at the table to take the plates away. She picked them up and moved quickly. She couldn’t wait to get to the bar and fill the staff in on the new development. “Dealing with you. I needed to escape.”

Jack stayed still for a second, then grinned. “Ever hear of Florida?” he said. “Or Hawaii?” I laughed.

“What do we do now?” I said. Somehow, I had come here ready to kill Jack to get information on the boys, and now he was my ally. I didn’t second guess myself about it, either. It felt right.

“Let’s go up to my room and discuss it,” Jack said. He didn’t look to me like he wanted to do any more discussing.

“Okay,” I said, grabbing my purse and standing up. “But don’t use too many big words. I haven’t had many discussions in a while.”

“It’ll come back to you,” Jack said, and motioned for the check.

And it did.

Jack and I fell asleep, after. The heavy drapes kept out the daylight. The bed was glorious. I was feeling a twinge of something like happiness. I was feeling like I was back where I belonged. Next to Jack.

But Ginger was gone, and we had to get the boys.

When I woke up, the clock said it was nearly six p.m. I hadn’t called Darren today, or Dave, who was probably still waiting anxiously in my apartment. Jack was still sleeping, snoring his profound rattling snore. It was like white noise to me. I curled up around him and closed my eyes, wishing that I could erase the last couple of years. I started crying then, for all the mistakes I’d made. For Jack, who had endured unimaginable pain due to the demons in his brain and the devils in his past. But especially for Ginger, who had jumped down into the abyss after me. Whether she was being led there by Jeanette Vasquez or pushed by Fred, or maybe just to get away from her own pain, I might never know.

Jack woke up and pulled me tight into him. I cried myself out while he stroked my hair.

“I kind of like this dark mop,” he said. “Suits you.”

We lay in silence for a while. “I’m paying money into a Toronto bank account,” he said. “That’s one of the reasons I know she’s here.”

She. Jeanette. My evil twin. She had found her way into our bed.

“I hired some people to find out where she is,” he continued.

“People?” I echoed.

“People,” he said firmly. Case closed on that one. “But I don’t want them going in, guns blazing.”

“The boys might get hurt,” I said. I sat up. “Jack.”

Jack pulled me back down and curled himself around me again. I let my mind wander, allowing myself to enjoy where I was, trying to forget the sound of Lola’s arm breaking, or the feeling of Dom’s blood squishing under my feet.

And Miller. I would think about Miller later.

We talked a little, small talk. We both knew we had to get up and go. We just drew it out a few minutes longer. I told him about Irene’s mother being sick. Then I told him I had to call Darren, and Jack got up and went into the shower, telling me to give his best to my brother. They’d always gotten along, until Darren got a little overprotective of me when Jack went nuts.

I sat up in bed and phoned Fred and Ginger’s number. Rosen answered on the first ring.

“Lindquist residence,” he said, in his neutral accent.

“It’s Danny,” I said.