Authors: Sharisse Coulter
After a long
pause he said, “I think she just needs space. I hope it’s okay?”
“Thank you,”
Anya said, placing her hand on his. She appreciated his concern and could see
his reticence to leave. “Would you like to stay for dinner?” she asked. He
nodded, grateful for the invitation.
Felicity was
tasked with taking her mother upstairs to help her get ready for dinner.
She set out some clothes that she found
in the closet, and sat on the edge of the bed as Jenna put them on. Felicity
knew something awful had happened but couldn’t imagine what.
She felt like she was watching a
sleepwalker to make sure she didn’t go out in traffic.
“Mom?”
“
Mmm
?” Jenna mumbled, struggling with the buttons on her
shirt. She wondered why people bothered with buttons at all. What a waste of
time. She tied the shirt in a knot above her belly button instead, exposing a
strip of tan midriff, playing with the loose skin that never quite got back to
pre-baby tightness no matter how many sit-ups she did.
“What
happened?” Felicity was nothing if not blunt.
Jenna looked
her straight in the eye and replied, with uncharacteristic restraint, “Nothing
you need to worry about, Sweetheart. Your father and I had a fight.
A big fight.
And
I need some time away to sort through things. Can you understand that?”
“I guess so …
” Felicity wasn’t sure how to proceed with this zombie mother. She expected a
tirade of exaggerations and more information than any child ever wants to hear
about their parents, only to be shoved in the middle, forced to take sides.
This calm, cool, calculating individual was like the Alternate Universe Mom she
used to think she wanted, but now wasn’t so sure. What could she say?
“Where will
you go?” Felicity asked.
Jenna hadn’t
thought that far in advance. She glanced around the room and saw a picture
hanging up in the corner. It was a black and white photo of a pier in a lake.
In small handwritten letters at the bottom of the matting, it read “North
Beach, Lake Tahoe, by Jenna
Jax
, 1989.”
Jenna
pointed to the photo and said, “There.”
Chapter 12
“Are you
sure you know what you’re doing?” Anya asked for the third time.
Dinner was a disaster, with Jenna drinking an
entire bottle of red wine by herself, slurring incoherently at each person in
turn. At one point, she turned to
Anya,
eyes narrowed,
and said, “
Y’wereright
, Mom. I ended up jus’ like
you. Go ahead. Say it.
Toldyouso
. Say it!
Juss
like you said. Better
seenthan
heard. ‘S all I’m good for. Look pretty. SAY IT!” She flung her glass around in
front of her, eyes landing on Zach. “Do I look pretty to you?”
Anya
watched, as though regarding an accident on the side of the freeway, and saved
Zach from having to answer. Luckily Jenna passed out before dessert was served.
Someone had the foresight to put a pitcher of water on her bedside table so
that when she woke up, still drunk in the dark morning hours, she guzzled it and
sat cataloguing every time she’d sacrificed something for either
Airika
or Alex. Every example she thought of, from the time
she didn’t buy the Calvin Klein prom dress she wanted freshman year because
Airika
had to have it to giving up modeling to stay home
with Felicity so Alex could pursue his dream of touring around the country with
his punk-rock band (who frequently found themselves ejected from venues before
they got paid), made her realize she’d only ever played the supporting role.
She’d never been the star in her own life’s story. As she watched the pink glow
of the sunrise, she made up her mind. No more stepping aside. Jenna felt
certain for the first time in her life. She couldn’t explain the
transformation, but instead of sinking into a pool of self-pity (as she’d
expected to), she felt alive and awake. She looked outside where the trees
glittered green, and the ocean’s blue saturated her core, connecting her to the
world like never before.
Her life had flipped an illegal U-turn hurling her
towards a new destination. Despite her still inebriated state, she couldn’t
help but go over logistics in her head. Felicity should stay with her
grandparents (her preference, Jenna was sure), and now that the two people she
ran everything by were the same two she wouldn’t speak to again, she had no one
left to answer to. Gone were the days of putting everyone else’s needs, wants,
and desires ahead of her own. Maybe high school Jenna had it right after all.
Pulling away
down the long gravel drive, Jenna watched her mother and daughter wave, their
eyes welling. Technically, she couldn’t see their features from that distance,
but she imagined they had tears in their eyes. She wished she could express to
them how in control she felt. It was like she was a college student, leaving
the nest for the first time, excited for the adventures awaiting her. As the
house grew smaller and smaller in the distance, she knew it would never look
the same as it did right now.
“Music?” Zach asked, handing her his iPod.
She smiled and put the iPod in the glove box.
“Nope.”
“You’re the boss,” he said, turning onto highway
395. The vast desert spread before them, broken only by sharp purple peaks
dipped in snow. They drove in comfortable silence, taking in the majestic
views. Joshua trees turned to pine trees, and the desert gave way to winding
mountain passes as they traversed the ancient landscape.
“How you
feeling this morning?” Zach asked.
“Hung over.”
Jenna looked over and had a vague flashback of telling him that all men are bastards
when he said he needed to go back to his hotel. “I was awful to you last night,
wasn’t I?”
“Nah. I’ve
seen worse.” He smiled. “I’ve done worse too, without half the provocation.”
She nodded,
grateful to let it go. They settled into an easy mix of silence and
conversation, keeping things light. The next thing she knew, they were outside
the vacation home her parents purchased with her father’s first big royalty
check. It was a modest pale yellow cabin, set back from the street on the
lake.
The quintessential cozy
mountain retreat, it still retained the original hardware and lovely built-ins.
She
remembered it being bigger—the way adults often do, returning to places
from their childhood. It was equally possible that it had been dwarfed by the
mega-mansions flanking it on either side that sprung up since her last visit.
Opening the door, she flipped on the light.
“Need help
with your bags?” Zach asked.
“No, I’m
okay. Thanks for the ride.” She said.
“No problem.
It was on my way,” he smiled.
He stuffed his hands in his pockets to keep
himself from helping her as she struggled up the two small steps to the door.
“Thank you,
Zach.
For everything.” She put her
hand over his and pulled him into a hug. In his ear, she repeated it again,
wishing she could say more. He was the only one who’d been there for her when
she most needed it and she didn’t think she could ever thank him enough. He’d
been so sweet to pack her bags for her when she couldn’t face going home to do
it herself. Thankfully he’d been able to avoid an awkward run into Alex, who
was already on his way to the next gig. He squeezed her hand, got back in his
car and reversed down the driveway, tires crunching on frozen earth. She stood
for a long minute outside, watching his headlights disappear from view, leaving
only the yellow orange light from the cabin spilling softly on her, beckoning
her inside. Silence enveloped her and her hands trembled as she pulled out the
handle on her toiletry bag. The cold hardwood floors creaked and moaned in
protest to the
thunk
,
thunk
,
thunk
-ing
of the bag’s
wheels as they hit each groove on their way to the master bedroom. Jenna looked
out at the lake, moonlight dancing on its glassy surface, searching for the
light switch. She flicked it on but nothing happened.
She tried again. Nothing. Great, she
thought. She turned on the light in the bathroom instead.
It provided just enough light for her to
wash her face, brush her teeth, and climb into bed. The heavy down comforter
swallowed her in its warmth, immobilizing her in its cocoon. Sleep had never
felt so good or come so easily. Tomorrow she could think about what to do with
her life, but for tonight, all she wanted was a dreamless sleep.
The sun rose
above the mountains, illuminating the small room. Blinking, she opened her eyes
to reveal a
blue-bird
day, the light spreading
cheerfully across the white-washed pine walls of the master bedroom. She sat
up, staring across the sapphire water. With a long yoga inhale, she breathed in
the crisp clear beauty of her surroundings. Never one prone to introspection,
Jenna had always opted to help someone else through
their
turmoil rather than dwell on her own. For the first time in her life, she was
forced to sit, utterly alone with herself. I am
me
,
she thought with Zen-like serenity.
The house, built in the early 1930’s, had a lot of
what people call “charm,” which really meant that it creaked and leaked and was
small compared to its contemporaries. It was like calling a woman “cute.”
Puppies, kittens and babies could be cute; women are either “beautiful” or
“have a good personality.” Cute is a passive way of calling a woman “not
beautiful, but likeable nevertheless.” No grown woman wants to be called
“cute.” Jenna surmised the cabin felt the same about being called “charming.”
The
Jax
family had owned
this house since the 60’s, when Shawn’s first single topped the Billboard
Charts. They came here on their way to a tour date in San Francisco and got snowed
in. Shawn ended up spending a few days learning to ski in this teeny resort
town and fell in love. For the first time in his life, he could afford to
splurge. So he bought a little cabin on the lake. Over the years, the other
small cabins peppering the lake’s shores were torn down and replaced by gaudy
monstrosities, but Shawn loved his little cabin in the forest with its perfect
lake views, private pier, and his very own boat garage. Jenna adored her
father’s whimsy when it came to this cabin and the mountain lifestyle he found
refuge in, but now, feeling the winter cold soar through the single pane
windows, she wished he had splurged on a few renovations. She padded lightly to
the kitchen to begin foraging for food and more importantly, coffee. None. Anywhere.
No coffee maker? No toaster? What had she done?
She pulled at her hair from the roots
and felt the first twinges of caffeine withdrawal coming on. Sure, she needed
some time alone, but not in lieu of civilization.
“Hello?” came a voice with a little courtesy
knock as the front door swung open. Zach peeked his head around the corner into
the kitchen.
“Coffee?
Breakfast burrito?”
“You’re a
lifesaver!” She said, nearly bowling him over with a hug.
He handed her a giant foil wrapped
burrito, chuckling as she devoured it.
“I’m lucky you didn’t take off my hand,” he said.
“Sorry,” she
blushed.
“Thank you … again.”
“I knew you
didn’t have a car,” he shrugged.
“And I figured there wouldn’t be anything edible in the
house—except maybe some Twinkies from 1985.
I’m heading down to Reno to grab a few
things.
Wanna
come?”
“Sure! She
made a list (she couldn’t give up all organization) and let Zach run her all
over Reno until every last item was checked off. She got a toaster, blender, espresso
maker, thick warm-trapping curtains, bath towels, and even found an organic
supermarket to get her pesticide-free veggies, meatless ground, tempeh and
liquid
aminos
that she absolutely positively could
not live without. As she draped the last curtain over the brushed nickel rod,
she admired her progress. Things looked better from up here. She made a mental
list of things to ask Zach (Best breakfast place? Best coffee? How to fix the
lights?) Once everything was neatly checked off her list, all clean and
orderly, then she could tackle unpacking her emotional baggage. It was only
logical to create a tranquil environment before battening down the hatches.
Chapter 13
“I need to
take some time off,” Alex said. Simon stopped his furious typing and looked up
from his phone.
“Are you
crazy, mate? The tour is completely sold out!” Before Alex could respond, Simon
continued, “Look, in 6 weeks it will be over. Done. And then you can take as
much time as you need. But it don’t do well to dwell on it now do it? No. Tell
you what. There were some nice girls backstage just
waitin
’
to talk to you … maybe you could go out with them. Get your mind off things.”
“No. I’m
done. I’m going to save my marriage. Tonight’s my last show.” Zach turned on
his heel, striding off down the long hotel hallway.