Shake Down the Stars (24 page)

His tears are working on her, I notice, and I watch as her resolve begins to tiptoe out the door. Sure enough, she lowers the gun. “But Danielle,” she says weakly. “My best friend. Why her?”

“Yeah,” I say, in hopes of keeping her focused. “Why Danielle? How did you find out, anyway?” I ask.

“I was going through his e-mail. I wanted to trust him, but I wanted to be sure. I went back an entire year, and then I found two pictures of her—
butt naked
. Danni!” she says, stomping her foot. “Why
Danni
?”

“It was a moment of weakness, baby. She came at me with everything she had, and you and me—we were having trouble. You know how my game was all off during that time. It just happened.”

“She's like a sister to me, Curtis. You may as well have slept with Piper.”

He grimaces as though tasting something sour. “That'll never happen.” He shivers.

“Never,” I add, making my own disgusted face. “Never ever. Ever.
Ever.
”

I hear Margot moan softly. She's moved to the mirror next to Curtis's desk and stares at her reflection in disbelief. “Oh my God. Look what you did to my face, Curtis! Look at my face. My beautiful . . . Oh my God, look at me.” She places the gun down on the edge of the desk and gingerly touches the bruise under her eye. “How can they film for the show now? The wedding is in less than three weeks, and”—she suddenly breaks into a long loud wail—“I look like fucking Frankenstein! I'm ugly!”

“So the wedding is still on?” Curtis asks.

“Shut up! Look what you did to me!”

“Baby, that bruise is not that bad. It'll heal in time. But what needs to heal more is our relationship. Now, I forgive you for coming at me with a knife—and a gun—but you have to forgive me. You are my everything. We have to stay together.”

Before I know it, he rushes over and uses his good arm to turn her from the mirror and pull her into his shoulder. She breaks down as soon as he touches her and begins to cry softly as he strokes her hair. “She tempted me, baby. She's a seductress. I told you she liked me.”

“Margot, don't buy it. No one forced him to sleep with her. He'll never change!” I shake my head in disgust when neither she nor Curtis pays any attention to me. “Might be nice if someone checked on the girls,” I add bitterly. “Remember them?”

Curtis continues stroking Margot's hair. “Yeah, Sis. Why don't you do that. Tell 'em everything's okay. Thanks.”

I grumble more than a few curse words under my breath and head upstairs. Margot opens the door with Sophia directly behind her.

“Everything is fine, girls. Your mom is okay. There was an accident, and that's why her face is bruised, but she's fine.”

“What about the gunshot we heard?” Margot asks.

“It went off by accident. Your mother was upset, but no one is hurt. You two okay?”

They both nod.

I bend down and look from one to the other. “Your mom loves you very much. And I love you very much. I'm sorry all of this is happening, but none of it has anything to do with either of you.”

“But where's Mom?”

“Why isn't she up here?”

“She'll be up in a second. Right now, I want you both to focus on the fact that everything is okay. And bottom line, girls? Never date or marry an idiot. I don't care how good he looks or how much money he makes. Got it?”

We hug and I return downstairs where I find Curtis and Margot still holding each other while whispering and staring into each other's eyes.
Oh brother.

“In case you're wondering, the girls are fine.”

I spot the gun on the desk. I think of using it to kidnap Margot and force her into some kind of deprogramming, but I know if she ever manages to dump Curtis, she'll only replace him with another first-rate ass.

The gun is heavier than I would've imagined, and the thought that it can take out a life is terrifying enough that I feel my hand start to tremble. “Is there somewhere you two keep this thing?” I hold it away from my face as if it's a dirty diaper.

Margot lifts her head from Curtis's chest long enough to motion toward the closet. “That box up there.”

I go to the closet and take down the lockbox from the top shelf and secure the gun inside. I stare at them in their embrace, surrounded by all the chaos and mess. “I can't believe you're letting him touch you, Margot, let alone hug you. Guns? Fighting? What about the girls? You really want them growing up in this kind of madness?”

“I need my guns,” Curtis barks. “All these crazies everywhere wanting a piece of me. I need them for protection. And I keep my guns safe, so you don't need to worry about that. Every last gun in this house is locked up. Tell her, Margot.”

But Margot is looking around the room now as if she's getting my point. I egg her on: “He could have said no, Margot. He didn't have to sleep with your best friend. You must be so hurt.”

“I am,” she says, pushing Curtis away. “You and your fucking dick have ruined everything, Curtis.”
She begins pacing the room, occasionally kicking a piece of glass or stray pillow. “What the fuck are we going to do now?”

“Nothing has to change, baby. We'll get married on the twenty-fifth just as planned.”

“Oh really.” Margot continues to pace, talking to herself as though she's alone. “Anyone who sees me will think I was abused! How are they going to handle this on the show? What am I supposed to tell the producers? I ran into a wall? I'm so fucked!”

“Is that all you can think about, baby? Our show?”

“No, I can think about you putting your dick in my best friend's vagina. Should I think about that instead?”

He lowers his voice. “We'll just stay incognito until you heal. 'Cause you're right, baby. We can't afford to have you leave and people seeing you and taking your picture. One picture and the paparazzi will be on us. People will think the wrong thing and
my
career will be ruined. That's why we've got to keep this family together. Why don't you hide out here until you're better?” He points to the picture of the two of them on the cover of
Ebony
, the glass in the frame smashed. “Don't forget who we are, Margot. You and me are the golden couple, baby.”

Margot stares at the photo, too. She lowers her arms, her eyes tearing. “But I can't be around you right now, Curtis. I just can't.”

“But why?”

Margot and I yell in sisterly unison,
“Because you slept with Danni!”

“I'll go to Calistoga,” she says.

“No, baby. Someone will see you there. Guaranteed. All it takes is a picture, and your face will be all over the Internet.”

“What about my place?” I offer.

“No,” Curtis says. “You can't stay at her place. Everybody knows me in Oakland, and that means they know you.”

“Okay,” I say. “What about Mom's?”

“Sweetheart, think of everyone at the church. Everyone is always stopping by your mother's. You want them to see you? You want to have to explain how you came at me with a knife? Why don't you just stay here? With me. Baby, we can work this out!”

“I don't trust myself around you right now, Curtis. I swear I could kill you.” She thinks for a second, her hand at her brow. “We'll just pack a few things and go away until my face heals. I'll call the director and tell him I need a few days of me time.” She turns my way, her expression like when she was five years old, during that one year when she actually looked up to me. “Can you think of somewhere I can go, P? Somewhere I can take the girls?”

I think of the man before I think of the city. I think of our time together gazing at Saturn, our walk around the altars. I think of his kindness. And even if we can't find him, why not hide out in his city? I know my idea is crazy at best, but it's all I have right now.

I look at Margot. “Ever been to Livermore?”

M
argot stands several yards from the car, waving her arms as she yells into her cell phone. The wind blows the cypress trees behind her to and fro, until they look like long limbs cheering her on. The girls and I wait in the Mercedes with the windows rolled tight, staring at her as if watching a silent movie. She decided that she needed to give Danni a piece of her “fucking mind” before driving any farther and stopped halfway down the hill from her house; the only other house in sight is one hill over and just as massive. We watch as she raises a finger and lets loose another round of insults.

“Did Aunt Danni mess something up with the wedding?” Sophia asks.

Boy, did she ever.

“You can say that. Your mom has had her feelings hurt pretty bad and . . . she's a little angry.”

“More than a little,” Margot says.

“Are they still friends?”

“I don't know. I don't know what's going to happen between them. But that's why we're going away, so your mom can take a breather and figure things out.”

“What about Curtis? Is she still marrying him?”

“Your mother should answer that question, Soph. Let's let her rest and calm down. And I want you two not to worry about all of this. Really. Everything is going to be fine.”

Margot marches toward us, slamming the car door after she gets in. She sits for a second with her face frozen in a mix of hurt and rage. I try to remember how upset she must be. She and Danielle are far closer than she and I are.

“Margot?”

She takes off her sunglasses and stares down at the keys in the ignition. I'm worried that she might start the car and do something crazy, but then her eyes well over and she groans loudly before bringing her hands to her face and breaking down completely. I take her in my arms. “It's going to be okay, Margot. You're going to be fine.”

“Mom?”

“Mom, are you okay?”

“She's just having a moment, girls. She'll be okay.” I hold her until she goes for a tissue. Her eyes grow steely as she blows her nose.

“She was like a fucking sister to me.”

“Margot,” I remind her, “the
girls
?”

She glances back. “Hey, sweeties, I'm sorry. Mommy is just pissed off right now. Your aunt Danni is a fucking cunt, you know that? She's a bitch who sle—”

“Margot!”

She pokes out her lips, then puts on her sunglasses and turns the ignition.

“Uh. There's no way I'm letting you drive.”

“I'm fine.”

“Far from it.” I try to take the keys from the ignition.

“I'm fine,” she says, snatching them away.

I stare hard until she lets out a huff and opens the door. “Fine. Drive.”

It's after eight p.m., but traffic is still heavy. I ease into the carpool lane. After driving my compact for so many years, I find that Margot's Mercedes feels otherworldly, as if I'm navigating a jetliner or cruise ship. I looked up the address to Livermore's city hall, and GPS handles the navigation. The only problem, really, now that we're actually on the road, is that my idea to seek out Selwyn for help feels far more quixotic than smart. I never heard from him after sending my note of apology, and what if we do find him at city hall once we get there? What am I supposed to say?
Did you get my card? Why didn't you write back? I thought you wanted to be friends.
And then there's,
Hey, I thought I'd bring my abused sister to Livermore!
I do feel I should try to find him at least. If he works for the mayor, he might know the best place to hide out. There's also a part of me that wants to see him for selfish reasons. I still think of Selwyn from time to time, how he helped me the night of the engagement party and how we ran into each other a few months ago in San Francisco. Maybe he was right. Maybe we do have some kind of connection—a connection obviously strong enough that I'm driving to Livermore right now.

I take a deep breath and glance over at Margot. After exchanging a barrage of text messages with Curtis, she took an anxiety pill and now either stares off into space or dozes. The girls listen to music with their headphones in their ears and their iPads in their laps. I'm tempted to ask for an anxiety pill of my own, but sobriety being the slippery slope it is, I take another breath and continue driving.

Soon we're making our way into downtown Livermore, which isn't all that bad with its old-fashioned streetlamps and park benches lining the main drag. Very Mayberry, USA.

I drive to a parking lot adjacent to city hall and find a parking space.

“I'm going to see if my friend is here.” Everyone ignores me. The girls are still listening to music and busy with their iPads; Margot leans against the door with her eyes closed. “Be right back.”

I cross the street and walk up the steps leading to the glass doors. While the building is still open, no one is around except for a young woman chatting with the security guard.

“Would either of you know Selwyn Jones?”

The woman points to the elevator. “Fourth floor. Third door on your left.”

The security guard adds, “Building closes in ten minutes.”

“Thanks.”

The elevator doors open to a long corridor. I read gold placards as I walk past each office:
MICHAEL F. ANDREWS, MAYOR
;
LYNDA THOMAS, VICE MAYOR
. To calm my nerves, I remind myself of how kind Selwyn was the last time I saw him. I find his placard and knock.

“Yeah?”

I open the door just enough so that I can step inside. He sits behind a huge mahogany desk that seems ready to swallow him whole. A large window offering a view of the city serves as a backdrop, along with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled with law books. Selwyn himself is so intent on the papers in front of him, he doesn't bother to look up.

I clear my throat.

He takes off his glasses and slowly gazes up from his work. I watch as his expression changes from irritation to curiosity to downright shock.

“
Kilowatt?
Oh my God. Kilowatt? Is it really you?”

“It's me.” I feel my cheeks grow warm from embarrassment at showing up out of the blue, and I'm also surprised at how good it is to see him.

He walks over and begins squeezing my arms in the same way he did when we ran into each other in the city, as though I might be an apparition.
“Is it really you?”

I laugh. “It's me, Selwyn.”

He places his hand on his hip while using the other to scratch at the back of his head. “I can't believe it's you. I can't believe you're here.”

I lock eyes with his. “It's me.” I then surprise us both by bursting into tears.

“Hey, now. Do I look that bad? What's wrong? Don't cry. What's going on?”

“I'm sorry.” I continue crying while he leads me to a chair. He pours water and hands me a box of tissues and waits until I'm able to pull myself together. “I don't know why I'm here. Why am I always in distress when I see you?” I cry all the harder. “You must think I'm crazy!”

“Of course not. What is it? Tell me what happened.”

I blow my nose and fall into a fast-paced ramble about Margot and Curtis, the fight, the girls. After catching my breath, I look at him and add, “I don't know why I thought I should come here. I don't know what made me think of you at all, but as soon as I did, I came up with this crazy idea that you'd be able to help. I'm sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. I'm happy to see you.”

“Why didn't you write me back?” I blurt out.

“What?”

“I sent you a card. Did you get it?'

“I did,” he says. “But since you were working things out with your husband—ex-husband—I figured I should leave things alone.”

“Fair enough. I am sorry for the way I kept blowing you off. I'm sure that's what it must look like.”

“No need to apologize. You were doing what you had to do. I respect that.” He pulls back to take a long look at me. He then takes a tissue from the box and gently wipes a tear from my chin and another from under my eye. “It's great to see you. Come here.” He stands and opens his arms. I give him a hug, briefly closing my eyes until I start to feel embarrassed by how good his arms feel.

When we move apart I say, “My sister is waiting, so I should get going, but if you'd be interested in seeing each other again, I'd like that. If you'd want to, I mean.”

“Of course I want to see you again.”

“Great.” I start to leave but then realize I have no idea where I'm going. “Do you know of a hotel where we can stay?”

“Hotel? Kil, don't insult me. You and your sister will stay with me. I'm sorry to hear about her troubles. It's a real shame.” When I open my mouth to protest, he shakes his finger. “No arguing. Not this time. You all are staying with me, and that's that. There's no need for you to drive around looking for a hotel when I have plenty of room at my place and would love to have you.” He goes for his jacket, but the piles of papers on his desk catch his attention and he pauses.

“Selwyn, listen. If you have work to do, I understand. Honestly, we can go to a hotel. It's no big deal.”

“Absolutely not. There's nothing here that can't wait until Monday. I can work on it over the weekend, too, if need be. It's not your worry.” He grins as he sticks his keys in his pocket and straightens his tie. “My God,” he murmurs. “I can't believe it's you. I never thought—” He takes a breath as his face grows flush. “I never thought I'd see you again, Kilowatt. It's good to see you.”

“You, too, Selwyn.”

He beams up at me a beat before opening the door. “Unbelievable.”

It's dark when we walk to the parking lot. I introduce everyone briefly, but we decide it's best to get going. We follow Selwyn as he drives onto the highway for a mile or two, but then we exit and begin following him down a road that takes us inland, so far inland, I'm soon using the high beams as we leave all traces of civilization behind—no houses or signs, no traffic except for Selwyn's car leading us down a narrow two-lane road.

“Where is he taking us?” Margot gripes. “Go figure. We'll get out here in the middle of nowhere and get ourselves killed.” She sits up in her seat. “How do you know this person again?”

“He's a friend.”

“You don't have any friends.”

I make a face. “Anyway, don't worry about it. At least no one will find you out here. Isn't that the point?”

“Might be, but I don't want to die in the process.”

Little Margot says, “There aren't, like,
any
houses out here. Are we in the country?”

“I see a light over there,” Sophia says. “That's probably a house.”

“We can only hope,” Little Margot replies.

“Okay, everyone. Let's try to be more positive. Selwyn is trying to help us.”

“But what if Mom's right and he's a serial killer?” says Little Margot. “Does anyone, like, know we're here? Should we leave a trail?”

“If we don't, we'll never be found,” Sophia says ominously. And again: “Never be found.”

“See what you started?” I say to Margot.

“He looks familiar,” she says. “Do I know him?”

“He was at your engagement party.”

“My engagement party . . .” It's not so dark that I don't see the frown forming on her face. “That short guy!”

“He has a name, you know. Besides, he's not that short!”

“He's shorter than you.”

“Not by much. And who cares? He's a good man.”

“Are you dating him?”

“No. I told you, we're friends. And he's nice enough to let us stay in his home, so try not to be rude.”

She crosses her arms and looks away. “All I know is, you two ruined my engagement party.”

“Unless you forget, I left your party because I was upset. Selwyn was there to help.”

“Yeah, he helped all right.”

“Just be grateful for once, okay? Just once in your life? Could you do that?”

Selwyn's right-side blinker flashes, and we follow him onto a gravel road that eventually leads to a remodeled Victorian. The house has tall windows and a wraparound porch with a porch swing and wrought-iron table and chairs, perfect for drinking lemonade on a hot summer's day.

“Now, would a mass murderer live in a house like this?” I ask brightly.

“That's how he gets away with it,” Little Margot says shortly.

“No one suspects him,” says Sophia.

We park, and I pop the trunk. As soon as Selwyn climbs out of his car, two basset hounds, ears flopping, come bounding around the house. They're followed by a German shepherd, hunched over and slower in gait. Selwyn takes his time greeting each dog before joining us. The girls, who have always loved animals, immediately forget about serial killers and run up to the dogs even as Margot tells them to stay away. The two hounds look exactly the same with their low bellies and sad, droopy eyes. The German shepherd, although big, is gray around his nose and mouth and periodically lets out a loud wheeze that makes him sound like an old man in need of an oxygen tank.

Margot presses her back against the car and turns down her mouth as though smelling something awful. “Are they safe?”

“Are you kidding?” I say, eyeing the German shepherd, who is currently hacking up large amounts of phlegm.

“Oh yeah,” Selwyn says, pointing to the German shepherd. “Dizzy there is almost fourteen and too old to do much outside of sleep. Louis and Ella would rather play than just about anything. They have their dog kennels and can sleep outside if that would make you feel more comfortable.”

“That's a good idea. Thank you.”

Margot notes the truck parked nearby. “You have company?”

“That's mine. Classic 1960 Chevrolet. Had her restored a few years back.”