Lexi didn't say anything as she placed the bottle in my hand that afternoon. Guilt pressed into my mind as I thanked her. Lexi was right. Something was wrong. But I wasn't allowed to be sick. Who had the time? I had just barely gotten myself cleaned up from throwing up in the toilet before she returned.
My life revolved around shows, fans, soundchecks, and looking after John and Simon. I sighed at the thought. Watching those two was a job in and of itself. I was grateful for the fact that Yasmin would join us for the short break, leaving me only one of them to tend to.
I rarely got sleep anymore. The pair always insisted on clubbing. Simon so he could flirt and drink, and John so he could drink and work himself to exhaustion on the dance floor. I knew he'd started up with the cocain again steadily, and without the dancing he'd never sleep. A week into the tour, I caught him cutting a line in the dressing room after the show. I chose not to say anything, but gave him a pointed look to let him know he'd been seen.
John didn't seem to care that I knew. I wondered if he cared if Lexi knew. My ever growing knowledge of her convinced me she wouldn't stand for his addictions. Lexi didn't have to. She was virgin territory in all areas. I told John as much as we sat with the stylists having the finishing touches added.
"I'm not doing anything to hurt her," John defended, blinking upwards as the girl in front of him dabbed under his eyes.
I looked up as well as the girl in front of me tapped the bottom of my chin. "You know she wouldn't approve, and you're lying to her about it."
"I am not," he insisted. "She's never once asked me about it."
"Then why do you hide it from her?" A lip pencil was applied, and I held as still as I could. I had John nailed on this question, and he knew it.
"She might tell someone," he replied smoothly.
I held the make-up artist's hand away from my mouth and looked at him. "So you don't trust her? Is that it? What do you think she is, John? A spy?"
John looked far too calm for my taste as the stylist backed away from him. "All finished, Mr. Taylor."
"Thank you," he mumbled. He turned his attention to me as the stylist finished up on my eyes.
"I'm not saying that, Nick," he admitted.
Simon interrupted, patting John on the shoulder and looking at me. "What's the word, gentlemen?" he smiled.
John crossed his arms lazily and looked up at Simon as he answered. "He's accusing me of lying to Lexi."
Simon's brows creased, and I closed my eyes to endure the application of eye shadow. "Not too heavy," I insisted.
A slight murmur of acknowledgement was all I heard before answering. "He's been getting a bit of help staying awake after shows," I replied.
"What kind of help?" Simon asked.
I sniffed loudly and paused, waiting for Simon's verbal mumble of understanding. "He thinks that hiding it from her isn't a lie. But you and I both know she wouldn't like it."
"He's right, you know," Simon commented.
I heard John's sigh. "Oh, I don't know what it is with the both of you. You go off and do this little project together and get all artsy, and now you're ganging up on me. Just because I went off to do my own thing doesn't mean I'm not a valid member of this band," he argued.
I opened my eyes and looked at him. "No one has ever said you weren't, John."
His arms were crossed tightly over his chest for a moment before they swung out of their knots to push him from the chair. "Then quit acting like you're above me. The both of you are always backing each other up, and I'm left waiting for your scraps."
"That's not true," Simon rationalized.
John didn't let him continue. "The hell it isn't! Look, this isn't the time or the place for this. We've got a show in twenty minutes, and I don't want to screw it up. I'll see you on stage," he spat, taking off for some unknown destination in a rush.
"Great," I complained. "He's been missing enough notes as it is. He'd better be on tonight."
Simon took a deep breath. "Don't worry about it. How'd this get started anyway?"
I fought to keep from running a hand through my freshly sculpted hair. "I don't know, Charlie. One minute we were talking about where to go tonight, and the next minute this."
Simon's lips pursed as he crossed his arms. "Well, you know John. This'll all simmer down by the time he's had a dose of the front row."
I nodded. "Probably. What was all that about ganging up on him?" I questioned.
Simon shrugged. "News to me. Come on. If you're gonna check your station before the curtain comes up you'd better do it soon."
I shook my head. "Neh," I declined. I reached down to pick my small notebook off the floor and flipped it open. "This is what we agreed on for a set list, right?"
Simon glanced over it quickly. "Yeah. Oh, hey, we could do To the Shore for the encore instead of Some Like it Hot. We haven't done that in a while."
I shrugged. "Why bother? We haven't practiced it, and besides . . . finding John to tell him now would be next to impossible."
Simon raised an eyebrow at me and nodded then. "Yeah. I suppose you're right."
I let the shows in Germany slide, too anxious for the upcoming break to care about whether the shows were good or not. I partied like I was expected to, ignoring the pain in my stomach. If I drank enough, nothing mattered--not the tour, not John, not the pain--nothing. I was as quiet each morning as I could be while tossing half my stomach into the toilet. Lexi's only concern should be Tatjana.
I had spent very little time with my daughter. That was the promise that kept me going: that I would be able to see her when we stopped. Every time I turned around, I discovered she'd learned to do something new--something that I had been to busy to see happen. Her speech was growing by leaps and bounds daily, spouting out such words as da-da, ma-ma, and no. It concerned me a little that Tatji connected Lexi with the name ma-ma, but there was little to be done about it now. And yet, I realized Tatji would be a very lucky little girl had Lexi been her biological mother.
I wanted to refuse going out with Simon and John after the last show before the break, but knew there was no way they would let me out of their sight. Now I was pressed into a booth beside John and across from Simon. The insanity of the throng amidst the smells and sounds of revelry was almost a comfort to me. Tomorrow there would be no Demetra banging at my door to tell me to get up. My bags were being packed as I breathed so I wouldn't have to do anything but sleep and cuddle with Tatji until we reached Ireland. Congratulations, Nick. You made it.
Simon pushed a glass of Stoli in front of me, smiling inanely as he and John reached for theirs. "To the break," he offered up.
Reluctantly, I picked up the shot and downed it along with them, unwilling to be the odd man out. The liquid burned a path down my throat, searing my stomach as it landed. I couldn't help the cough that violently wormed its way out. I grabbed the serviette from under my glass and pressed it to my mouth while John patted my back. Still holding the white square in place, I regained control of my breathing. My stomach burned like someone had torn me open. My free hand reached into my pocket for the ant-acids.
I dropped the serviette in favor of getting the fool pill out of the roller. Why had Lexi bought the kind that were so hard to get into? Didn't she know that when I needed them, I needed them now? I cracked the cylinder on the edge of the table, sending tablets rolling everywhere.
Simon cursed loudly, yanking me up by the shoulders as I reached for a handful of the much-needed soothants for the twisting pain inside me. I shrugged away from him with a glare, leaning on the edge of the table for balance while I chewed and swallowed.
"Come on, Nick; let's go," John insisted, standing at my side and giving my elbow a gentle tug.
"Bugger off!" I insisted, wiping the back of my hand over my wet lips. As I drew it back to rest at my side, an orange-red shimmer caught my eye. I brought it back to examine the wet streak recognizing, even in the black lights and smoke, the sight of my own blood.
My brain must have shut down because I let Simon drag me toward the door with John trailing after us, jackets in hand. "Charlie?" I mumbled.
"We'll get you taken care of, Nick," he promised. "Just relax."
I allowed myself to be stuffed into the taxi while John bribed the driver to get us to the local hospital on the double. An hour later I was semi-conscious on a hospital bed awaiting test results. They'd administered a pain-killer for me which left me groggy but peacefully numb.
John was sitting in the chair by my bed while Simon paced at the foot. I rolled my head to John. "You should get some of this, Johnny. It's great--I don't feel a thing."
I was surprised he didn't say anything. He stared at me dead in the eyes, silent as the day is long. I wondered at what he thought he'd glean from me. I had nothing left to give. For the next two days, everyone could sod off and give me a moment's peace. Let John have his drugs and drink. If he wanted to slip into a chemically induced stupor, that was his business. And Yasmin would take care of Simon.
Thoughts of Mrs. LeBon brought my eyes to the foot of the bed. "Isn't Yas supposed to be here tonight?" I questioned.
Simon glanced up at me, giving a moment's hesitation to his aimless shuffling. "Huh? Oh, yeah, but she can wait."
I tried to sit up, but was smacked between the eyes by dizziness, and I fell back. Simon stopped then to stare at me while I moaned. "Go on then."
"No," he insisted.
"Go," I demanded for a second time. "You can't do anything for me anyway. Don't keep her waiting, Charlie."
John nodded his agreement. "I'll stay. I'll give you a bell when we get news."
Simon stared at the both of us for a long while. "I suppose there's nothing I can do," he mumbled.
"No, and you're making me bloody nervous, and I can't get a fag in this place. I think I'll have John go smoke us both one in a bit."
Simon caught my eyes. "Are you sure that's what you want?"
I wanted to nod but didn't have the energy. "Yes, please get out of here."
He let out a long sigh and patted my foot. "All right then. Give me a bell when the results come back."
John nodded for me while I felt myself drift out of consciousness. I never saw Simon leave, and yet he must have as when I opened my eyes next, the room was dark around John and I. An awful smell, like burnt tires, assaulted my senses. "Is that coffee that's making that horrid smell?" I mumbled. "Get rid of it!"
John set his styrofoam cup on the window sill where he was standing and moved to sit by me again. "They're going to keep you over night to make sure you rest," he told me, toying with his fingers while he spoke.
I groaned. "Great. That will ruin my time with Tatji."
John didn't reply. "Look, Nick," he began. "I know something's been wrong for a while and that's what caused whatever it is that's gotten you here. So it's time to get it out of your system and tell me--straight up. We don't have time for your pride games."
I gave a single sarcastic chuckle and turned away from him. "Of course there's something wrong. My wife is an evil whore; I never see my daughter; the shows couldn't get any worse; and you run me ragged trying to keep you out of trouble." I didn't add the fact that Julie Ann had killed my baby or that I hated him for how he was treating Lexi.
He hushed, fingering his hands while he stared at me. "This has something to do with Julie Ann and that first night of the tour when you got so sick. Does this have anything to do with her raping you?"
I sighed. "It wasn't rape, John."
"You know it was." We locked eyes in a challenge of wills. Whoever looked away first would admit defeat. John spoke without breaking my gaze. "She's pregnant isn't she? That was what you found out that night."
I looked away, scolding myself for having forgotten that it was during those intense stares when he always uncovered my secrets.
"Isn't she?" John prodded my silence.
I sighed. "She was," I mumbled.
"Was?" he repeated, leaning in closer to me.
John was in his "big-brother" mode again. I resigned myself to be found out and began to unravel my thoughts to him. "She got pregnant on Christmas Eve. I had no idea until the day we got to Japan. That extra mail that Lexi brought--it was from a clinic near my house. She went so far as to get a sonogram of the baby before she aborted it to send along with the bill that was charged to my credit card. So not only was I stupid enough to shag her, but I also helped to kill my baby!"
John touched my arm. "Calm down, Nick."
I wanted to sit up, but decided against it as the drugs were wearing off and the pain in my stomach was getting strong enough to make me pass out. "No, John. I will not be calm about it. Julie Ann murdered my child! I don't care under what circumstance that baby was conceived, that child was mine!"
"But why would she do that?" John prompted in his rational tone, meant to calm me down.
"Why not?"
"It makes it sure she'll loose Tatji."
"You think she actually cares what happens to Tatjana? It's just a game to her--something to lord over me. She lost Tatji the moment she was unfaithful. She knew that."
John was silent then still staring at me as his mind turned over all the facts.
I groaned a mumbled curse. "I feel as though someone did the abortion on me," I admitted. "Where are those bloody tablets Lexi supplies me?"
John shook his head and stood. "I'll go get the nurse to get you something and see if those results are in yet."
I knew better than to refuse. As soon as he was gone, I turned to my side and pulled my knees up to my chest. Something had to make it better.
John returned with a nurse moments later. She handed me a tiny plastic cup full of white liquid and told me to drink. It was worse than the chalk tablets, I realized, wrinkling my nose in an attempt to force myself to swallow. Relief was not immediate, but did follow. She took the cup back from me and started out of the room, nearly plowing over a man on his way in.
I watched his slow movements and half smile as he took my chart from the end of the bed. "Mr. Rhodes, I'm Dr. Landers. I've reviewed your test results."
"Well, what's wrong with me?" I snapped.
John returned with a nurse moments later. She handed me a tiny plastic cup full of white liquid and told me to drink. It was worse than the chalk tablets, I realized, wrinkling my nose in an attempt to force myself to swallow. Relief was not immediate, but did follow. She took the cup back from me and started out of the room, nearly plowing over a man on his way in.
I watched his slow movements and half smile as he took my chart from the end of the bed. "Mr. Rhodes, I'm Dr. Landers. I've reviewed your test results."
"Well, what's wrong with me?" I snapped.
"You have a bleeding ulcer."
"Lovely," I retorted. That would explain the stomach pains, the heartburn, and the vomiting.
"Fortunately, this is a very common problem, Mr. Rhodes. I've prescribed some pain killers for the first week or so and then something to heal up the problem."
"Great, can I go now?" I questioned.
Dr. Landers' eyes took in my form with a long look. "You don't look very mobile at the moment. I'll have one of the nurses give you something for the pain, and we'll release you in a few hours."
I sighed. That wasn't soon enough. I wanted to get back to the hotel where I would at least be surrounded by my things and use the rest of my off time before I had to travel.
"I recommend that you cut back stress and start eating healthy. Which means no more alcohol," the doctor advised, marking several things on his clip board.
I knew better than to ask about performing. I didn't need John to hear the doctor order me not to perform. Being on stage was relatively simple. I had done it so many times before and had had enough practice now not to worry about it. It was the rest of my life I knew that had caused my current condition. The only way to solve that would be to go back in time and marry someone else. And yet, even as the thought occurred to me, I knew I would never have been satisfied without Julie Ann.
John had a few quiet words with the doctor about my prescriptions and paper work for my stay before he returned to the bedside. "You know you really shouldn't even be traveling tomorrow," he commented.
"Your point?" I prodded, unfurling myself despite the pain and rolling over with my back to him.
"We should cancel both the shows in Ireland, or at least postpone them till you're feeling better."
"It's nothing, John . . . just an ulcer. It's under control."
"Yeah, so under control that you're here," he argued.
I sighed. "Just leave me be," I warned. "It's things like this that keep my stomach in knots."
"You can't blame this on me, Nick," he insisted, the edge in his voice alerting me to his rising anger.
"I'm not blaming it on anyone. I just want to be left alone," I repeated.
He gave no answer, pacing away from me. A glance over my shoulder revealed that he was staring out into the inky night again, the coffee cup in his hands. He looked over at me, seeing my eyes on him. "I'm going to call Charlie like I promised."
Taking the cup with him, he exited the room.
The moment I stepped through the door of the hotel, Lexi was ushering me into bed. "I've got things to do," I argued.
She shook her head, pulling back the bedcovers for me and patting the mattress. "No, I've been letting you get by with that too long as it is. Into bed."
"But I want to spend time with Tatji. I've got so little time."
"Tatji's sleeping, so quit whining and follow her example. I'll bring her in later for a bit, all right?"
"I'm not whining," I protested.
Lexi caught my eyes with her own, and she looked so much like my mother that it scared me for a moment. "No wonder you're a nanny," I acquiesced, slinking over to the bed and dropping into it.
She smiled. "Nick, I don't mean to treat you like a child. But you need your rest. And no one else here seems to care about whether you get rest or not. John told me what the doctor said. And so help me, you will get your rest and get better from this."
I laughed at her determination. "Lexi, I'm a grown man. They can't make me do anything."
"Obviously, you stubborn Brit," she teased, moving to the doorway. "I'll be in the next room if you need me. I'll check on you every now and then. And I'd better find you sleeping," she warned.
I smiled, watching her go. Sleeping would be easier said than done. I had never been able to sleep well. Many nights the only reason I stayed in bed was because Julie Ann had held me there, often times doing everything in her power to exhaust me so I would sleep. Thoughts of the murderess woman pressed in on me.
The first time I'd met her had been in 1982, at a Christmas party. The story of our meeting was highly publicized. Fans loved to hear it. I'd been terribly bored, scanning the room for something interesting to look at. And I had caught sight of her long legs running from spiked heels all the way up to an indescribably short skirt. I had to have her. That was all that would satisfy me. So I turned on every ounce of charm I had, wooed her until the day I decided I wanted to keep her. At which time, I persuaded her to marry me. And until that point, she had been good to me. She followed the band around, tending to my needs and answering to my whims. It hadn't been all bad. Only the last few years were intolerable, and even those were smattered with good times.
I couldn't fathom what had happened. There was no sudden change in our relationship. The changes in her had come gradually. And yet, there had been changes in me too. Marrying Julie Ann had changed things a bit for me. I couldn't just consider myself any longer when I made a decision.
We began to argue, mostly about the decisions that were made. She complained that she missed America. Purchasing the house in London hadn't pleased her at all. She didn't like hanging out with the band. She insisted that I paid more attention to them than I did to her. She said I limited her. She wanted to spend more time with her friends.
I was fortunate that she and Yasmin got along so well. Her other friends were not my favorite band of people. She liked her friends to be rich and not as pretty as her. Usually that left them dull and extremely unintelligent. I came to realize that I was a prize for her. She liked to tell people that she had married a successful pop star. She liked that we had a pink couch in the living room and had a wedding that was heralded as the event of the century.
Julie Ann just liked to be looked at. We both did, if I was honest with myself. It was a match made in heaven that ended up in hell. Once I'd made my vows, I intended to keep them. I had vowed to stay with her for better or for worse. However, she broke her vows by sleeping with these other men. I was released. In a way, she had done me a favor.
I shook my head at the warped thought. Breaking my heart had been no favor. The only good thing to come of Julie Ann was Tatjana. Nick, you've got to shut it off and sleep, I cautioned myself. Lexi would be none too pleased to find me awake.
The thoughts continued to whir in my mind. I closed my eyes, hugging my pillow to myself in an attempt to get comfortable. Sometime later, I heard the click of the adjoining door. I froze, willing Lexi to believe I was asleep. The door clicked again, and I heaved a sigh, knowing I had been successful.
In that simple moment, I lost consciousness. A gentle tapping at my face woke me from the blackness. I groaned, wrinkling my nose to erase the feelings. The sound of shrill giggling surprised me, and I opened an eye just long enough to see Tatjana's hand coming straight for me. I snapped my eyes shut and steeled myself for the impending poke.
She tittered as her fingers rubbed my eyelashes and her palm slid over my cheek. "Da-da," she pronounced clearly.
I smiled, slipping my arms out from under the covers and yanking her under with me. She squealed in delight. I smothered her face in kisses while she squirmed excitedly. "Hello, you," I mumbled.
"Nick, you really need to get up and ready to go," Lexi prompted.
I noticed her then for the first time kneeling at the edge of my bed where I had found my daughter. A grin spread across her face as she stared at Tatji.
I let out an elongated sigh, looking into my daughter's smiling face once more. Tatji started repeating the word go over and again. "I'd rather stay here with my girl all day."
"I know, but we've got to get moving. I've laid your pills on the tray next to your breakfast," she told me, pushing the cart closer.
"But I don't eat . . . " I began.
"You do now," she interrupted. I opened my mouth to protest, but she cut me off once more. "I let you go about things your way, and you ended up in the hospital. So now you're going to do things my way."
I stared at her till she began to squirm in my scrutiny. "Who did I hire you to watch? My daughter or me?" I teased.
She shrugged. "You couldn't afford to pay me to take care of you, so it must have been Tatjana. She's easy."
My eyes widened, and I pulled myself up to a sitting position to watch her head out of the room. "Why you . . . " I mumbled to her back. The door adjoining our rooms clicked shut. My gaze turned to Tatji. "She's got quite a mouth on her. And you're learning that, aren't you?" I questioned.
She merely gave me a wide smile exposing her new teeth to me and reaching out to grasp my hair. Lexi wouldn't mar my daughter; I wasn't worried about that. However, if I didn't intervene, her looks would be the only thing that related her to me. I laughed at the thought. "But I wouldn't want you to be like your daddy," I told her. "That would get boring, wouldn't it?"
Her lips slacked as she focused on grabbing my nose that was just out of her reach. I resigned myself to getting ready and left her on the bed amidst my pillows. Moving across the room to dig something to wear out of my suitcases, I listened as she moved about in the sheets. I slipped on a pair of tight black jeans. A knock interrupted from the door adjoining my room to Lexi's.
"Come in," I called.
The door opened, and in the same instant, Lexi was screaming. "Nick, grab her!"
I spun around to see Tatji teetering at the edge of the bed. I wasn't quite sure where the speed came from, but I propelled myself toward her, my hands closing about her waist and pulling her to myself. I closed my eyes while Tatji shrieked in delight in my arms. Two more seconds and she could have been a broken heap on the floor. "Oh, Princess, I'm so sorry," I apologized.
Lexi was at my side in a moment, taking her from me. "Nick, you've got to pay closer attention than that. You just can't turn your back on her," she scolded, searching over my daughter's body for some invisible wound.
"I was only . . . I didn't mean . . . " I stuttered.
"It's all right. You're not with her all the time. She's learned to crawl very well. It means you need to watch her every second. Don't leave her on a bed or a couch. Set her on the floor, and keep an eye on her," she admonished.
"I didn't know," I mumbled, trying to catch Lexi's eyes.
She forbade me the opportunity, keeping her eyes glued to the baby in her arms. "It's all right. I'll watch her while you get dressed and ready. You can have her back when we leave."
A knock sounded on my door. "Everything okay?" Demetra's voice called to me.
"Just fine," I replied.
"Half an hour till we leave," she reminded.
"All right," I groaned, grateful to hear her footsteps leaving my door. I stared at the white cotten shirt hanging in the closet for me. Why in the world did I think I could take care of anyone else? It was plain to see I couldn't even take care of myself. I'd wound up in the hospital, nearly let my daughter tumble to her death, couldn't control John in order to salvage his relationship with Lexi . . . I couldn't even take care of my own clothes. Demetra had seen to it that we all had clothes pressed and ready for us each day. My mouth felt dry, and I swallowed. Pushing the thoughts away, I slipped into the shirt and a black sports coat before shoveling in a few bites of breakfast and swallowing the pills with juice.
Simon was soundly sleeping, his head in Yasmin's lap, as we traveled. John was unconscious as well, propped against the side of the train while Lexi scribbled away in a notebook. I set the book I was holding on my lap and glanced at them. Yasmin broke the monotony of the train clunking against the tracks. "Why don't you rest, Nick? You look like you haven't slept in days." Her question came out as more of a command.
"Well, thank you, Yas. You're always so complimentary," I smarted.
She smirked at me. "I do try," she retorted.
A grin tickled at the corner of my mouth, and I caught Lexi's eyes raise to me from her notebook. I suddenly felt the need to explain myself. "I can't sleep unless I'm in a bed," I defended as much to Lexi as to Yasmin.
"That won't work with me, Nick," Yasmin chided. "This isn't the first time I've traveled with you guys. I've seen you fall asleep on the way back from a show."
"We haven't played for a couple days. I haven't done anything but sleep," I pointed out, not bothering to add that the times I was able to sleep outside of a bed had always been due to Julie Ann. She loved to snuggle me into her arms until I drifted out of consciousness. It had always been a very peaceful sleep for me--one from which, I always woke feeling very refreshed.
Yasmin broke the hold on my gaze, turning back to Simon. He shifted from his back to his side, his face buried in her stomach.
I turned my attention to Lexi then. "What are you doing over there? You've been awfully quiet."
Her cheeks flushed darkly. "Writing," she replied, not tearing her eyes from the page. Her pen however, stopped moving altogether.
She proved a worthy target then it seemed. I grinned. "What are you writing? Is it one of those award winning epics?"
She looked up then. "Award winning?" she repeated. "Epics? No, nothing like that."
"You write?" Yasmin questioned her.
Lexi nodded quickly. "I attempt to," she mumbled.
Yasmin smiled. "That's really great. You and Nick must get along well."
Lexi and I exchanged glances, looking back to the inquirer. "I suppose we do," Lexi answered.
"I can't win with her though. Sometimes I think she's been commissioned to take care of me and not my daughter," I added.
Yasmin laughed softly. "You probably need it as much as Tatjana."
I shook my head. "It must just be a woman thing."
"What's that?" Yasmin prompted at the end of her laugh.
"Thinking that someone needs to take care of me," I replied.
Yasmin cocked her head to one side. "Someone's got to make you take your vitamins and step back from the mirror."
Lexi giggled now, turning her head back to the page in front of her. My eyes glued to the top of her head as she wrote. Insolent was the only word in my mind. And yet, I wasn't angry at her. Another idea caught my attention, and I slowly leaned across the isle towards her. Her pen stopped for a moment, and I seized the opportunity, yanking the notebook away from her. My eyes skimmed over the words she'd penned, and I arched an eyebrow.
"Give that back," she demanded, reaching for it.
I pulled out of her reach, still reading. John seemed to jump of the page at me, even though in her mind, he was clad in a flannel shirt and jeans. I chuckled. John would probably be just as comfortable dressed as she described.
"What is it?" Yasmin questioned.
I couldn't resist voicing my thoughts. "Do I make an appearance too?"
She scowled at me, swiping the notebook back. She refused to answer. I laughed at this, causing Yasmin to inquire a bit more insistently. Simon stirred, rolling over to look up at her. He gave out a gravelly growl. "What's so funny?" he asked, eyes falling directly on me.
"Nothing."
"He's laughing at me," Lexi refuted.
I could only chuckle harder at this.
"What're you laughin' at her for?" Simon whined, still only semi-conscious.
"I'm not," I promised. "I'm really not. It's very well written, Lexi," I encouraged.
"It must not be, because there wasn't anything funny in there," she argued.
Her arms were crossed, and her eyes stared out the window at the quickly passing scenery. "Lexi, Dear, the reason I was laughing had nothing to do with your writing. I hardly read more than 3 sentences. I promise it had nothing to do with you. Won't you write some more?"
She shrugged. "Maybe later."
"I'm sorry," I apologized again, seeing that my teasing had truly upset her.
She nodded. "It's okay."
"It's just that when I pictured him pumping petrol, it was just a very humorous image that you painted."
She turned her eyes on me. "You could see it?" she prodded.
I nodded. "Very easily," I admitted. With her word choice, I had no trouble conjuring up John as a teenager working in a small town.
The hint of a smile formed on her lips. She closed her notebook though, sliding the pen into the spiral rings. She motioned towards my daughter. "Since she's asleep, do you mind if I go to the dining car? I need to stretch my legs, and I'm really thirsty."
I granted my permission with a shake of the head and pulled my legs back to allow her passage. The train jumped slightly as she tried to step over John's large feet in the middle of the aisle. She stumbled towards the door to our suite, waking John as she did.
"Hmm? What?" he sputtered, pulling himself upright.
"I'm sorry," Lexi apologized. "I was trying not to step on you."
John waved her off with a sleepy shake of his hand and slouched back in his seat as she left notebook tucked securely under one arm. He looked around, noting that we were all awake. "Where's the party?" he questioned.
Simon yawned. "I dunno, Mate, but they've managed to wake all of us up with their carrying on. What was that all about anyway?"
I smiled at him. "Nothing," I answered before turning my gaze to John. "How would you feel about wearing flannel and pumping petrol for a living?" I questioned.
Yasmin let out a laugh at that, and I joined her, leaving Simon and John to look between us in confusion.
John drew back, staring at me and then Yas. "This is a bit much for me. I think I'm gonna go visit the loo," he excused, leaving the suite in a sluggish gate.
By all appearances, I was well rested for the show in Dublin. Lexi had kept me on a strict schedule with my medicine ever since my stint in the hospital. The alcohol consumption had ceased, and I had mastered the skill of appearing asleep. The pain had decreased considerably, though I still suffered the residual effects of the severety of my problem.
For all intents and purposes I felt much better by the time we arrived. Everyone insisted I attempt to nap after our train ride as opposed to go to sound check with the others. John and Simon persuaded Lexi to go to the venue with them, to get a better feel for what we did. I knew that if she stayed at the hotel, she'd smother me with attention to make sure I was following doctors' orders, and I could see it in her eyes that she wanted to scope out the theater. So with my promise to rest, she bundled Tatji up in accordance with their demands.
Left with no other options, I dropped backwards onto my back in bed. Didn't everyone understand that I'd been sitting as long as they had? Sleep would come no easier to me than turning back time. I had never felt so bored in all my life as I stared at the ceiling. My mind was spinning with the melodies and chords I needed to play that evening. It had been two days since I'd practiced, and I felt completely inadequate. The set list ran through my mind song by song, and I felt my fingers manipulating invisible keyboards and racks, making certain that I remembered the codes for each sound change.
The phone at my bedside rang, interrupting my imaginary practice. Maybe there was a problem with the equipment. "Hello?" I answered.
"Nick?" the feminine voice inquired.
Recognition hit me slowly. "Yes, Julie Ann, what is it?"
"I wanted to know if the nanny brought you your mail," she began.
"Some of it," I replied. "If your calling to brag about your sadistic murder plot, I don't want to hear about it."
"Murder plot?" she snapped. "There was no plot to this! That's what happens when you can't control yourself and screw me on your daughter's bedroom floor."
"I didn't instigate that, Julie Ann. You did. I've already taken the papers to the solicitor."
"For what?" she pressed.
"You'll find out soon enough." I reached to hang up the bell, but stopped at her voice yelling from the other end.
"Don't you dare hang up on me, Nicholas James Bates! But then again, why should you listen to me now? You never listened to me before," she accused.
"I've heard quite enough out of you, Julie Ann."
"Is that so? So I suppose you fed your lawyer all your opinions about what those forms meant? You weren't going to even bother to ask me?"
"You mean like you asked me about the wellfare of our child?" I retorted. "The child that you murdered."
"I'll have you know that I came to Los Angeles to tell you. And you kicked me out!"
"You were posing in my bed like a bloody Penthouse pinup! I'm divorcing you, Julie Ann, and that's final."
"I was not!" she denied. "I wanted to tell you I was pregnant. Look at the dates, Nick! Look them up! I was pregnant when you were in LA. You're the one who decided the fate of that child, not me."
"What?" I spat, jumping out of the bed and dragging the phone to my suitcase. I rifled through the contents, pressing the receiver between my shoulder and ear.
"That's right, Nick. You decided that, not me. You won't even talk to me, and I can't be expected to raise your child on my own," she rationalized.
"Wait a bloody minute here!? Are you trying to make this my fault? I wasn't the one that spread your bloody legs and sucked my seed out of you with a killing machine! That was something you decided without my consent!"
"That's not true! It was a mistake that you made and left me to clean up," she charged.
"I've had enough of this, Julie Ann," I shouted. "If I hear from you again before the final proceedings, it had better be through a solicitor." I slammed the receiver in its cradle, listening to the inner bell ring out.
I watched my hand launch the phone across the room, feeling relief as it smashed against the wall. The papers caught my eye in the inner pocket of my case, and I pulled them from their spot. My eyes scanned the information. What she had said was true. I swallowed hard against the reflux in my throat. She had the abortion three days before Lexi joined us in Japan. She had come to work things out with me, and I had pushed away in light of not wanting to be hurt again. And I had killed my child.
Not bothering to climb into bed again, I curled into a ball on the floor. The tears seared my cheeks as they soaked the carpet while I mumbled a thousand silent apologies to my children.
By the time Demetra collected me for the show, I had calmed myself a great deal. It was just a concert for a mass of people who didn't know me--who would never know me. A group of people who's only purpose was pay my bills. I could flip them the bird, walk off stage, and still have as much adoration as before I had started. Armed with the rest of my chalk pills and a double dose of medication, the show would be no problem, I assured myself. Still as the stage lights bore down on us, I felt my concentration slipping by the fourth song. I reached to wipe my brow in the few seconds I had free between chords. I had never felt so grateful for a water bottle before as I reached for it. I felt Simon's gaze on me and realized that I was about to miss my cue.
John thumped his way across the stage to me, bouncing out the bass lines. "Are you okay?" he questioned as the stage lights went down around us and focused on Simon.
"Fine," I answered, reaching blindly behind myself to flip a switch. I continued to concentrate on the notes. All I had to do was convince the crowd that I was a genius. And then I could be done for the night. The rest of my life was screwed up enough without adding another botched performance to it.
By the time we stumbled off stage before the encore, I couldn't think straight. I wasn't sure exactly what I had been playing for the last twenty minutes. I accepted the towel from Demetra, heading blindly for the nearest place to sit down. Sweat was pouring into my eyes, and suddenly finding a chair wasn't as important as getting off my feet. I leaned my back against the wall, the sounds of the others gearing up for the encore fading out. My limbs felt numb, and my lungs were constricted. The air wouldn't come fast enough, and the little that did, burned. I was slightly aware of sliding down the wall to the floor, bliss flooding me as I was finally able to let go of my senses. I welcomed the blackness embracing me, completely unsure if people were touching me or if the tingles I felt were left over from the heat from the stage.
"Welcome back, Mr. Rhodes," a foreign voice greeted.
I felt incredibly dry and swabbed my tongue about in an attempt to remedy the problem unsuccessfully. I forced my eyes open, unable to feel my surroundings. The room was dark save the light framing the doorways and streaming in from the bathroom. I was in my hotel room, I knew that much. How I got here was a mystery.
"How do you feel?" he questioned.
Feel? I couldn't feel my arms and legs. "Tired," I croaked. "Thirsty," I added as an afterthought.
"That's not surprising," the stranger replied, helping me into a sitting position and holding out a glass of water. "You're dehydrated," he stated.
I accepted the cup with an unsure hand, marveling at how I had no sensation in my fingers. However, getting my tongue unglued from the roof of my mouth seemed like a good place to begin solving things. My eyes roamed upwards as I drank trying to assess who this person was at my bedside.
"I'm Dr. Haustedder. You gave us quite a scare tonight, Mr. Rhodes."
The feelings I had after the show came back to me, and I nodded. It hadn't been the most fun I had ever had either, I thought ruefully. "Those stage lights are brutal," I explained.
The doctor pursed his lips, nodded, and gave a disapproving sigh. "I understand that you were just in the hospital."
I shrugged.
"From what your friends tell me, you have a history of working yourself into exhaustion."
I shook my head. "Not true. I'm just doing what needs to be done."
"Well, be that as it may, you need to start getting some rest. According to your girlfriend, you've been under a lot of stress and haven't been getting much sleep. And that aggravates an ulcer, Mr. Rhodes."
I rolled my eyes. "She's just my nanny!" I pointed out.
The doctor stared at me for a moment. "I'll be quite honest with you. There's nothing I can do for you except recommend that you take a break. If you don't, the next one could be a heart attack. And where would that leave you then?" he rationalized.
I shrugged again. Nothing I said would pacify the man.
He scribbled down strict orders for me to stay get some sleep, along with a recommended diet, and a list of activities I should avoid. I almost laughed when he recommended some exercises to relieve my stress. It was such a contradiction of terms. I nodded and smiled until the man finally left. He slipped through the door to Lexi's room, leaving me in silence.
I was so tired of staying in bed and being told to rest. If I could feel my legs, I'd get out of bed and pace. At least that would be something. Before I could fret over it much longer, the door burst open, and Simon marched in. "Listen here, you," he demanded, throwing the door shut behind him. "I don't care if you're sick. You've got to stop this."
"Or what?" I challenged, leaning back against the headboard, and picking up the glass of water again. "The shows get worse? That's not possible."
"Forget the bloody shows!" he yelled. "You're what I'm worried about! What will Tatjana do if you go off and kill yourself?"
"I'm not suicidal, Charlie," I argued.
"Yeah, well prove it! You're bent on working yourself into the grave. I'm sorry that your evil ex-wife had an abortion, Nick! But it wasn't your fault, and you can't punish yourself for it!"
"That's enough!" I yelled, feeling my stomach twist.
The door opened again, Yasmin pushing threw. "Come on, Simon," she soothed, curling her fingers over his shoulders. "You're just upsetting him."
Simon looked helplessly at her, his voice still caught in the drama he'd spewed out at me moments earlier. "But the bloody sod is so blind he can't see that we're all worried about him."
"Shh," she hushed. "Come on. You can talk to him some more once you've had some rest."
Simon opened his mouth further to speak, but was stopped as his wife's hand covered his mouth. She stared at him silently, then removed her palm and gave his arm a gentle tug toward the door. I sighed with relief as the pair disappeared. Yasmin popped her head in for a moment. "Get better, Nick," she advised. "Don't scare us again."
I nodded at her, and she left, clicking the door shut. My body slid back under the covers as I set the glass of water on the nightstand. I did feel awful. But there was the show tomorrow night, the live television broadcast the next, and then we were off to the UK for a whole new leg of the tour. Maybe if I followed the doctor's orders and got a lot of sleep, I'd be able to make it through the next couple days.
The door opened again, flooding half my room in the bright lights from the adjoining one. I easily made out Lexi's form, and steeled myself for the impending lecture. She carried a tray in her hands. "They've all gone back to their rooms for the night," she told me.
A bit of relief filled me. "So go on, lecture me," I invited.
She shook her head. "No, I think you've had enough of that between the doctor, Simon, and yourself."
I nodded as she stepped forward, setting a tray at the edge of my bed. I eyed it warily.
"I know you'll probably just say you're not hungry, but it's not much, Nick. I got you a sandwich and some soup. At least try to eat a little of it," she encouraged.
Her voice was soft as she spoke, and she refused to look at my face. I looked back at the tray, lifting up the bread to see what it was.
"It's tuna," she answered.
I smiled. "Good choice."
She returned a tired smile. "I figured it would be safe." Her eyes surveyed me quickly. "But you're going to have to sit up. I'm not going to feed you," she teased.
I groaned. "All right, all right. If I sit up and have a bite to eat, will you bring Tatji in for a visit?"
"She's asleep," she answered.
Balking, I pushed myself up slowly. "It seems like she's always asleep. Doesn't she ever do anything else?"
"She does lots of things," Lexi protested. "Heaven knows she keeps me busy. She's into everything now! You'd be amazed at how fast she crawls, and now there's the added troubles of her pulling herself up on things."
A frown pulled down the corners of my mouth. I was missing my daughter's life.
"Nick, it's okay. You're busy. She knows you love her. Every chance you get, you're doting on her."
"But it's been so long since I spent any time with her. It wasn't like that before the tour," I explained, picking up half of the tuna sandwich. It did smell good.
"Well, you've got a week to catch up on things."
I stopped chewing my bite to look at her in confusion. "A week?" I prodded through the mouthful.
She nodded. "They've postponed everything a week, contingent upon how you're feeling once that time's up. And we're going to make you rest, Nick. Even if it means we all have to sit on you."
I laughed at the image of John, Lexi, Simon, and Yasmin physically sitting on me. "Well," I teased, "You and Yas can sit on me any time you'd like, but the others can bugger off."
Lexi's eyes fluttered shut over her amused smile. Even in the dim light, the flames on the sides of her face were obvious.
I couldn't resist taking the joke a step further. "But only if you sit in all the right places."
Her eyebrows sunk in a V, and her lips pursed. "Nick! That's gross," she whined.
Knowing better than to say anything more on the subject, I simply laughed and reached for the bowl of soup. The grin remained on my lips as I realized she probably wasn't exactly sure what I was talking about.
"I don't like that smirk, Mr. Rhodes," she told me, taking a seat on the overstuffed chair near the bed.
I shrugged. "You torture me, and I repay the favor," I admitted taking a cautious mouthful of soup. She didn't say anything, just hugged her knees up closer to her chest. "Are you going to sit here and watch me eat?" I questioned.
"I can leave if it makes you uncomfortable. But I want to make sure you eat something. And then I can take the tray back."
"You have an answer for everything, don't you?" I looked up at her again.
She shrugged. "Depends on who's asking the questions."
I chuckled, setting the bowl back on the tray. She seemed lost in her thoughts, staring somewhere past me. A few bites more of the sandwich proved all I could handle, and I nudged the tray closer to the edge of the bed.
Lexi came out of her daze then. "Is that all your going to eat?"
My forehead cropped into wrinkles. "I ate what I could," I defended. "I already feel sick again, you know."
"Sick?" she questioned. "How sick?"
"Really sick," I confessed. I wondered if my legs would carry me to the loo. I started to push the covers back, feeling my stomach tumble with its contents.
"Are you going to throw up?" she asked.
I pulled my knees to my chest now, feeling a bit silly for mimicking her. "I hope not." My stomach stilled a bit, and I rested my forehead on my knees.
Lexi moved from the chair, taking the tray from the bedside and placing it outside my door in the hall. I watched as she padded across the room to retrieve the wastebasket and set it next to the bed for me. "Do you think it would help if you talked some of this out?"
I glanced over at her. She was curled up in the chair again, feet tucked underneath her. "Talked what out?"
She shrugged. "I'm probably overstepping my bounds," she brushed her comment off.
"There are no bounds, Lexi. I think we eliminated that a long time ago. You sleep at my house, date my best friend, and practically share a room with me."
"Well, I know you don't like to talk about yourself or what's going on. It just seems like you've got a lot going on what with the tour . . . and the divorce."
She looked down at her hands then, picking her fingernails. "It is a lot to think about," I acknowledged. She remained silent, patient for me to tell her what I wanted to. "I think I'm going to get some sleep now."
Without any expression, she stood up and moved toward the lamp in the corner. "I'll shut this off then. John's supposed to come over for breakfast in the morning if you want to join us. Is there anything specific that you want?"
I shook my head. "I want to see my daughter. Maybe take her out."
She nodded. "Whatever you like. I was thinking about taking her out tomorrow anyway. She's gets kind of fussy being in one place too long."
I laughed. "Gets that from me, I think."
Lexi smiled with her hand on the doorknob. "See you in the morning."
Where to go next . . .
On to Part 7
Back to Christian's Room
