The Girl in the Comfortable Quiet (14 page)

“But he always fucks up something before he
leaves,” Josh adds. “You want my advice, Chrissie? Get him out of your fucking
house now.”

Nate’s eyes fix on mine intensely. “We’d really
appreciate that if you did. Everything is going to get fucked up if Andy sticks
around.”

I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck. I
didn’t know any of this. And I wonder if that’s the strangeness in my marriage.
Is Neil back into the drug scene again? I wonder if Nate and Josh are not
telling me the whole truth.

I stare directly at Nate. “Are you telling me the
truth about everything? Or is Neil fucking around with drugs again?”

“Neil’s not on drugs,” Nate shoots back
emphatically.

Josh doesn’t look at me. “There’s nothing else,
Chrissie.”

I nod. “Hey guys, thanks for telling me this.”

I pat Nate on the leg and then stand up. I hurry
up the stairs and out into the garage. I pause at the doors to the patio.

I spot Neil laughing, barefooted, cross-legged on
a cushioned chaise lounge, looking rock star chic, with tousled hair and
sparkling green eyes. He’s surrounded by girls—where the fuck did they come
from?—being pulled at, claimed, kissed, fawned over and wooed.

Andy—my stomach turns—is reclined on a chaise
across from him, and they are laughing and drinking as if they’ve never passed
a day in their life as enemies. Neil doesn’t even look like the same guy I left
this morning. At 9 a.m. he was tense, aloof, angry, and as if he couldn’t wait
to be away from me and everyone. Now he’s the center of the universe,
completely engaged and alive and whooping it up with Andy.

I pause a moment to collect myself and to figure
out what’s pulsing through me. In surprise I realize I don’t feel a hint of
jealousy seeing Neil surrounded by girls. What I feel is an intense
desperation, confusing in its sudden rise and severity, to get Andy the hell
away from him.

I slide back the door and step into the party. I
am quickly bombarded by fast quips and greetings. Smiling, I cut my way through
the crowd.

I stop beside Neil’s chair, waiting for him to
notice me. I can feel Andy staring at me, but I don’t look at him. I have no
interest in looking at that fucker.

Neil looks up at me. He smiles. “When did you get
back, baby?”

Really? That’s what he has to say to me?

I ignore the heavy pressure of eyes on me. “Can
we talk for a minute, Neil? Now.”

I don’t wait for an answer. I turn and start
making my way back into the house. I don’t look over my shoulder. I know Neil
is following. I heard the quips when he set down his drink and Andy’s jeering.
Fuck him. I don’t care what Andy thinks about me.

I am down the stairs and in the living room
before Neil catches up to me.

“You are pissed off about the party,” he says,
sinking down in a chair a good distance from me.

“I don’t care about the party.” I hold him in an
unrelenting stare. “What is Andy Despensa doing in our house?”

He runs a hand through his hair in a jerky,
agitated way. His jaw clenches. “Fuck, is that it? I’m not even allowed to have
friends now, unless you approve of them, Chrissie?”

My entire body burns deep red. Since when are
they friends? “No, Neil. Not when they are asshole drug dealers who fuck over
everyone they come in contact with. I can’t believe you let a drug dealer into
the house with Kaley.”

Neil rolls his eyes. “Who the fuck told you
that?”

“It doesn’t matter. I want him out. Now. I don’t
ever want to see Andy Despensa here again.”

Neil’s eyes bore into me. “Don’t tell me what to
do, Chrissie. I don’t tell you who you can be friends with and you fucking
don’t have a right to tell me.”

I jump, startled. The last part of that was spoken
on a bellow. He doesn’t even feel like my Neil. He feels peculiar, more strange
than the stranger I’ve been living with for too long.

All my nerve endings start to prickle. I make a
snap decision. “I’m going on tour with Alan starting in September. Ten weeks.
I’m taking Kaley with me. You want to change that? You keep Andy from our house
and away from our life and you don’t ever speak to me that way again.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

October
1997

I
sit on the cold stage floor, stare at my journal, and then write the page
heading.
Week 8 on tour with Alan.
I chew on the tip of my pen. Thoughts
cluster in my head. I’m feeling it again. Afraid to put my words on paper.
Sometimes my fears and worries don’t hold the feel of realness, or clarity,
until I see them in black ink.

Black…

I peek up at Alan standing center stage, working
through something in his head. Sound check was over hours ago. Everyone has cut
out since this is a three-day hop instead of two: tonight off, tomorrow
performance, next day travel to another city. Only the roadies and the tech
crew are left in the arena assembling the elaborate stage set that is
so
Alan.

Why did I stay behind with Alan? Why do I always
stick close to him these days?

My thoughts whisk me back to The Farm. This tour
holds that strange feeling New York did our first spring: Alan dragging me
along in his life and me letting him. Only this time we’re buddies, not lovers,
just friends. And even as friends, I’m feeling like I did then; my life
spinning out of control through shadowy darkness, things I can’t see, fears
undefined, nagging at my subconscious, and me staying as close to Alan as I
can, as if somehow he is going to keep me from crashing and burning.

Lame, Chrissie. Lame. We’ve both grown up since
then. Moved on from each other. Different worlds. No longer connected.

Alan can’t do a damn thing to fix the problems in
my world. I don’t even know what needs to be fixed, let alone how to fix it. I
make a face and the pen starts to move.
Connected in the disconnect. The
only thing that holds the feel of realness to me now.

I close my eyes and listen to Alan play. I
haven’t heard this song before. What is he picking at? Soft, haunting music.
Intense quiet. It suits my mood today.

The music stops. I hear footsteps coming close. I
open my eyes and slap shut my journal.

“Are you ready to cut out?” Alan asks, standing
above me.

“More than ready. I can’t seem to write today. I
thought maybe I’d be more productive here than back in the room with Kaley
distracting me.” I smile up at him. “I can’t find the words in my head.”

I say it in a silly way. Alan doesn’t smile. He
studies me.

“Are you doing all right, Chrissie?”

“Sure.” I start shoving my stuff into my tote.

There is silence between us for a moment. Then he
offers me his hand and helps me to my feet. For a second I let myself enjoy the
feel of him, but once I’m standing I pull my hand away.

We start walking across the stage to the corridor
that will take us to the waiting car. Alan is silent and I’m glad he doesn’t
say anything. Even benign pleasantries feel like a dangerous thing today. It
occurs to me we are quieter with each other than we were in any time we loved
each other and that it’s a nice thing. To be quiet with Alan. It makes me
quieter in myself.

Once in the car, I grow aware that I’m feeling
better, even in this small place with Alan too close to me. I turn my head and
stare out the window. Rome is a beautiful city. I wish we were spending more
than three days here. There is never any time to see anything. Short hops.
Cities gone too quickly.

Everything in life goes too quickly. At least the
good parts do. My loving Alan. The happy days in my marriage. My ten weeks on
the road, my reprieve from having to be in the same house as Neil…

I cut off my thoughts. I don’t want to think of
Neil and I definitely don’t want to cry here with Alan. The car is rolling to a
stop in front of the hotel. There will be fans and press there. There are
always mobs everywhere Alan is.

The door is opened and I climb out first, to be
swallowed up by Alan’s security team. I’m ushered through the hotel with
flashing cameras and screaming all around me. I’m guided into a private
elevator with him. The doors shut. Silence.

Alan leans back against the polished, mirrored
wall and studies me while the attendant remains artfully invisible.

“There’s a patio on the rooftop,” Alan says
abruptly. “It’s lovely at sunset. Beautiful views of the city from there. I was
going to have drinks, maybe dinner up there. It would be nice to sit outside
for a while. Why don’t you come up, Chrissie?”

He gives me that friendly nothing smile, the one
that screams politeness, and still I’m filled with trepidation over whether I
should join him. I hang around with Alan too much already. People are starting
to notice and gossip. Fuck, why do people have to talk so much shit on the
road? We’re just friends.

I smile. “I should probably stay in with Kaley
tonight.”

He looks amused. “Bring her along. She might
enjoy it up there. Being outside in the sunshine and the air.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “I’m sure she would.
But I don’t know if anyone else would enjoy it if Kaley were there. She’s a bit
of a handful right now. The terrible twos are really terrible. It’s not a lie.”

I laugh, but Alan doesn’t. He stares. What a
stupid thing to say to him.

The doors open. “If you change your mind, you
know where I’ll be.”

I step ahead of him into the hall and hurry to
the door of the suite next to his. I can feel Alan watching as I slip the key
into the lock.

The hotel room is warm inside and dimly lit. I
drop my things on the couch in the sitting room. Silence. Maybe Lourdes has
taken Kaley somewhere. I check my watch. It’s only six in the evening. She
can’t be sleeping yet.

I kick off my shoes, cross the room and peek into
the makeshift nursery. Jeez, I didn’t have a chance to see it this morning
before it was put together for Kaley. Linda is definitely a world class packer
on the road. Instant nursery. She’s thought of everything the kids would need.
The only thing I had to remember to bring were Kaley’s clothes, Daddy’s
picture, and Bear. Effortless motherhood while touring
à
la
Linda. There is nothing Linda can’t do expertly.

I spot Kaley in her bed, curled up beneath the blankets,
holding her stuffed animal and sound asleep. Beside her, Lourdes sits in a
chair, quietly reading.

Thank God my housekeeper is legal and could
travel to Europe with me. I wanted Maria but she couldn’t leave the States and
get back in. She is the closest thing to a mother I have, and she couldn’t
travel with us on this trip.

Lourdes looks up.

“Did everything go well today?” I whisper.

She nods. “We spent the day with Mrs. Rowan and
Bobby. Mrs. Rowan likes to go, go, go. Kaley is exhausted. My feet hurt.”

I bite my lip to keep from laughing. “I’m sorry.
I hope you feel better soon. Thank you for everything, Lourdes.”

She nods. She reminds me so much of Maria. It
feels good to be close to Lourdes, too.

I start to close the door but pause.

“Have you had dinner yet?”

Lourdes nods. “We ate with Mrs. Rowan. Very
fancy. Kaley did not like it. I fed her later here.”

This time I have to smile. “I may go out to
dinner tonight. Would that be OK?”

She looks amused by the question.

I flush. When did I decide to have dinner with
Alan?

“Go out. Have fun, Mrs. Stanton. You work too
much. Too hard. La niña, she is not going to wake. It will be fine.”

I go to my room, shower, do my makeup and hair,
and dress quickly. I stare at myself in the mirror to make sure in my hurry I
didn’t make any glaring mistakes. Not bad. Short black dress, cautiously
noncommittal between sexy and
not saying yes,
pretty little Italian
sandals—thank you, Linda, for liking to shop for me—and a silver filmy wrap.

From my tote I grab my room key, my passport,
some cash and my mobile phone. I stare at the phone. I turn it off, and then
tuck everything into a small evening bag.

I make a fast stop at Kaley’s room.

“I’m on my way out. Everything still OK?”

Lourdes laughs. “You look very beautiful tonight,
Mrs. Stanton. Go. La niña will be fine.”

I close the door.

Inside the elevator, I grow frustrated with
myself. Dressing like this. Turning off my phone. I’m behaving ridiculously.
Alan asking me to dinner doesn’t mean anything. It just is.

The doors open and I step out. I hear a laugh
that could puncture the sound barrier. My heart stills and my face falls.

They’re all here. The entire band. Crowding
around Alan on small sofas and stuffed chairs, with a table in the center, a
lit fire pit on it.  

It’s everyone. The Rowans. Jimmy. Kenny Jones.
Assorted girlfriends. Alan invited everyone to have dinner tonight. He wasn’t
inviting specifically me.

God, I feel lame…

I plaster a smile on my face and make my way
through the crowded rooftop patio. The air is alive with laughter and chatter,
and it’s gorgeous, dimly lit, nothing between the tile floor and the sky. I
carefully maneuver between the sitting areas packed with people to the spot
claimed by Alan against the glass wall on the far side of the terrace.

“Chrissie, over here,” I hear Linda say too
loudly.

Why does she have to be so loud?

“Little kitty has arrived. At last the band is
together,” Len Rowan announces, rising to his feet.

I glare up at him, teasing. “Are you ever going
to stop calling me that?”

He grins. “Nope. Not until she—” He nods toward
Linda. “—makes me.”

“And I’ll never do that, Chrissie,” Linda
announces. “You will always be little kitty with us.”

I make a face at her. “Thanks a lot, Linda.”

She smiles and I try to step back from Len’s
too-close presence, but he takes me in an overly familiar hug and places a
sloppy kiss on my lips. Yuck. I can smell booze on his breath. Len is halfway
to being lit. They probably all are.

Linda glares at him as she fills a wineglass. She
pats the cushion beside her. I guess she’s decided my place here. Jimmy and
Kenny kiss me as I pass them making my way around the sofa to the couch Linda
is sitting on.

“What are you drinking tonight?”

I gesture at the bottle she has in hand. “I’ll
just have that,” I say, since I know nothing about wine and Linda definitely
knows her reds. 

She fills a glass and shoves it toward me as I
sink down beside her.

“Everything OK in your room with Kaley?” Linda
asks.

“Sound asleep. What did you do to her today?”

Linda leans back, turning her body toward me. “We
went everywhere. If I don’t keep Bobby moving he’s a nightmare. Little boys are
exhausting. You have to wear them out or they’ll drive you crazy. Just like
men.”

“And you know what to do with men to wear them
out, don’t you love?” Len says with a grin, leaning in to kiss her.

Linda shoves him off. “Oh, will you shut up,
Len?”

I choke back my laughter and hide my expression
behind my wineglass.
I take a sip of my wine. The Rowans are
uncensored and bickering tonight.

“I’m starving. What do you want to eat?” Linda
asks me.

I turn my head toward her and find Alan quietly
probing me with his gaze, as if trying to figure out something he finds
confusing about me.

“You OK?” he asks.

I flush. It occurs to me he’s ignored me since I
joined the table. Why did he ask me that?

I smile. “I’m great.”

He’s still staring at me, expectant. Shit, why is
he doing that?

Linda points with a red-tipped nail at an item on
the menu. She crinkles her nose. “How about this and this?”

“Order for the both of us. You are such a good
orderer.”

Linda laughs. “I love food. I’m a world class
meal planner on five continents. I think we should have this, Chrissie.”

I have to refrain from rolling my eyes since she
says her opinions with an air of importance, and in anything she does she’s
world
class
.

After our food arrives, it’s hard to keep up with
the fast-moving conversation and currents at the table. Everyone is laughing,
eating and drinking. Alan seems subdued, and he has that look he sometimes
gets, aloof and tired, like he doesn’t want to be surrounded by them.

Strange, I haven’t seen that look in a long time.
What’s bugging him tonight? Something is. He’s pulsing with it. I can feel it
across the table. He’s said hardly a word to anyone this evening. He just sits
there, staring.

I peek at him out of the corner of my eye. Stare.
Stare. Stare. I smile and shift my gaze back to Linda and attempt to focus on
her nonstop chatter.

After dinner, Linda gathers up her things and
stands. She hugs me and drops a kiss on my cheek. “We’re going to cut out. It’s
been a long day.”