Rhythm in Blue (17 page)

After checking his reflection once again, he started for the door, but a strong wave of nausea suddenly hit him hard. Running to the toilet, he dropped to his knees and leaned over the bowl. His body racked with dry heaves, and he became alarmed. His trembling hands gripped the sides of the bowl. When the spasms finally stopped, he collapsed, smacking his cheek on the seat. He didn’t notice the impact, all he knew was that the coolness felt good on his face, and he alternated his cheeks to different spots around the oval, in search of relief.

When he thought he could, he slowly rose and went back to the sink to splash his face again. This time, the water didn’t help, and he felt as though he was beginning to spiral down a deep hole – a hole which grew hotter and more constricting the farther he fell.

He stripped off his clothes and climbed into the tub. The porcelain had the same cooling effect as the toilet seat, but he needed more. Turning the cold-water knob with one foot, he moved the lever to the shower position with the other. The spray of cold water helped, and he began to relax. Soon, he felt himself drifting down the hole, or to sleep – he didn’t know and didn’t care.

~

A barrier separated Rick’s world and the place in which he found himself. It resembled a thick fog he couldn’t see through and couldn’t wave away. He didn’t like it. Someone called his name repeatedly, and the sound echoed through his head. A dull, rhythmic thumping intruded his limited awareness, he tried to push the thumping away through the fog, and it ceased briefly. It began again after a moment, but felt sharper now, and he realized it was slapping, someone was slapping him in the face, and he felt himself rising up through the hole he so willingly descended.

The fog began to clear a little, and he could see a face in front of him but, he couldn’t make out the features well enough to tell who it was. The echoing of his name ceased, but there was a loud commotion around him. Someone was screaming, “Call an ambulance!” Rick wondered what happened, and if someone had been hurt, but he also hoped that whoever it was would soon get help so the screaming would stop.

He felt as though he was walking, but he didn’t remember needing to go anywhere. The hole was inviting him back, pulling at him. He smiled at it, and hoped it knew he would be back when he was done with his walk. His walking companion was urging him along, but Rick didn’t want to be rushed. They would just have to wait, because he needed a break. The companion yanked him back to pace. Slowly, he realized it was Randy forcing him to march. Rick couldn’t see him, but he could hear him speaking in a soothing and encouraging manner. “Come on buddy, stay with me,” he kept saying. Rick found it amusing that Randy was commanding him to stay with him as he dragged him along, as if he had a choice. Then he heard Devon’s voice – “Jesus, at least cover him up. He doesn’t need everyone staring at him naked.” Rick laughed to himself and wished he could see the naked idiot, but his eyes wouldn’t focus or stay open. He felt himself slipping, and he let the hole take him again.

Chapter Twenty

Looking around the hospital room, Rick noted the lack of flowers and balloons that decorated his surroundings during his last hospital stay. This time, he didn’t awaken to find Erin holding his hand. Devon had been there, but the atmosphere definitely felt different. Rick couldn’t tell if Devon looked down on him, or if his own embarrassment and humiliation projected the feelings.

“Please don’t tell Erin,” was all he asked of Devon.

“I won’t, but you better hope it doesn’t hit the papers.”

The idea of his stupidity becoming news for the masses made him feel even more ill, but after almost a week, the secret was, incredibly, still safe. He was sure that given the size of the party and the number of witnesses, the story would get out.

Six miserable days had passed since the ambulance delivered him, precariously hanging to life. Rick had a vague recollection of having his stomach pumped, they informed him that they’d injected him with something to counter the effects of the drugs in his system. Six days he spent sweating, vomiting, and running to the toilet. Though it was mostly his head, his whole body hurt, just as it had after his car accident, but this time there was no injury, just drugs leaving his system.

The guys had been there through the worst of it, but once it became clear that Rick would survive, they went their separate ways. Devon stayed longer, but he too, eventually left Rick to suffer alone, so he was surprised when a nurse peeked in his room and told him he had a visitor. If it had been one of the guys, they would have just walked in, so Rick was curious as to whom it might be as he sat up in bed.

The door opened further, and a woman walked through. He recognized her but wasn’t sure why. With a shy smile she slowly approached and placed a small bouquet of flowers on the stand beside his bed. Her smile caused a wave of warmth to pass through his body – he thought she was very beautiful, but he couldn’t think of how he knew her.

She pulled a chair up to his bed and settled herself, and though she smiled, she seemed hesitant to speak. Finally, she said, “You don’t remember me, do you?” Rick shook his head and apologized.

“We met at the party. I’m Beth, Julia’s friend?”

As she spoke, the memory of hitting on her in Keith’s kitchen slowly came back to him. “The librarian, right?”

“So you
do
remember.” Her laugh seemed small and meek. “I’m glad you’re okay Ricky. You had a pretty close call.” She leaned toward him and brushed her hand across his briefly, as though petting him.

“Yeah, I guess I got kinda lucky.” Ashamed, he vaguely recalled acting like an ass.

“I’ve wanted to come and visit you, but I thought it might be best to wait until the worst had passed. Are you starting to feel a little better?” Rick nodded to her question, and wondered how she knew about the worst.

“I wanted to explain why I acted the way I did at the party,” she said, but Rick cut her off.

“You don’t have to. I wouldn’t have wanted to talk to me either, and I don’t blame you at all.”

“But I did want to talk to you, just not while you were in that condition. My fiancé… He had a problem too, and I just can’t stick around to see someone else doing the same things, acting the same way.”

Rick felt a stab of disappointment. “So, you’re engaged?”

“I was. It was a few years ago,” she tugged at the drawstring from her jacket. “He wasn’t as lucky as you, he OD’d on heroin and died.” She kept her eyes downcast, but continued, “I’ve been around addicts Ricky, I’ve seen a lot of ugly things, and I won’t do it again.” She looked at him finally, and Rick read the meaning in her stare. He wanted to apologize for her loss, and explain himself a little, but she rose and pushed her chair back to its spot.

“Maybe when they cut you loose, we’ll see how things go. If it seems cool, maybe you can take me out sometime,” she glanced at him with a raised eyebrow.

“I’d really like that Beth. I’d like to have another chance to make a better first impression.”

She smiled again, “I’m sure you could. You certainly can’t do worse.” And with that, she left.

She had been there less than five minutes, but those five minutes raised Rick’s spirits immensely. He spent the rest of the afternoon anticipating what it would be like to take her out, even to kiss her, and it was then that he promised himself he would stay off pain pills, no matter how much he hurt. No cocaine, no nothing.

Rick wasn’t even sure how he’d become so hooked. At first, it was just to keep the pain at bay, not to get high. But soon, the line between dealing with pain and getting high began to blur. The drug rehab counselor explained to Rick how easily Percocet could become a problem. Even Dr. Howard warned him, but Rick felt he was above the average person, and wouldn’t fall victim to the drug’s addictive effects. He never felt more less than average as he did when he was in the throes of withdrawal, and he vowed he would never let himself feel so small and worthless again.

~

Within a month of his stay in detox, Rick asked Beth out. She wouldn’t agree right away, she wanted to wait longer. He convinced her that all they would be doing was getting to know each other, and she finally said yes.

It took him one day and one tank of gas to get used to driving again, he figured the date would be awkward enough without adding a third party to drive. He nervously knocked on her door at the appointed time. She opened it and greeted him with a bashful smile. He was a little surprised at how shy he felt himself – not used to dating, he felt out of his element. His plan was to hold back as much as possible, and take his cues from her behavior. Mostly, he didn’t want her to see how awkward the experience was for him.

“Just let me grab my purse, okay?”

“Sure.”

While he waited, he once again checked to make sure he was in order, that his fly was up, and his shirt was properly tucked. She returned almost immediately, and they made their exit and headed for his car. Stepping in front of her, he opened the door for her and waited for her to get in. She smiled at him again, and he felt the same rush of warmth he had in the hospital.

Once he was inside and had the car started, he asked, “Are you sure you don’t mind going to Guido’s? I know it’s not real fancy.”

“No, it’s fine. I’ve never been there, and I’m not used to fancy anyway.”

“Okay, good. I try to avoid the popular places, it’s easy to be recognized and next thing you know, you’ve got chi— people all over you.”

“I understand,” she said.

It occurred to him that it almost sounded like he was bragging.
Jesus
,
how am I gonna get through this without fucking it up?
He made a few more attempts at conversation, but it felt forced, and Beth didn’t seem to want to help make it any easier for him. By the time they reached the restaurant, neither of them had spoken for several minutes.

Once he parked, Rick got out, went around the car, and opened her door.
I may screw it up, but at least I’ll do it like a gentleman
. She gave him the smile again, so he figured there was still hope. He was even more encouraged when she took his hand in hers as they walked toward the door, and he made an effort not to speak to keep her from looking at him and discovering that her simple act of taking his hand made him blush. It was a relief that the place he chose had low, romantic lighting.  might be blushing a lot throughout the evening, as nervous as he was.

Once seated with menus, Rick relaxed a little. Devon helped him prepare a list of topics to discuss over dinner, to avoid awkward silences. “Keep the focus on her, women like it when you ask a lot of questions about them. Nobody wants to listen to their date talk about themselves all night, so unless she asks, you don’t tell, got it?” Rick nodded, grateful for any advice he could get. Talking about himself was second nature, and all the girls he’d been with seemed to want him to, all after some deep, dark secret to keep as a souvenir. He even had a repertoire of concocted tidbits to choose from when the need arose.

“I suppose I should have asked what your favorite kind of food is before I picked a place,” he admitted as they studied the menus.

“I love Italian, so this is great. Do you know what you’re going to have?”

“I’ll probably go with the Chicken Parmesan. It’s really good here. What are you getting?”

“I’m not sure. The Rigatoni with mushroom sauce sounds good.”

After they ordered, Rick started at the top of his list: “So Beth, did you always want to be a librarian?”

“No. I actually wanted to be a teacher, since I was a kid, but when I was in college I worked in the library for a while and found out I really enjoyed it, so I changed my major.”

Rick nodded attentively and went to the next question on his mental list. “What do you like to do for fun?”

She thought for a minute and replied, “I like to ride my bike. In fact, I just joined a biking club, and we go on weekly rides. So far, it’s been great. Let’s see, to relax I like to crochet, and, oh, I also like photography. I’ve become a bit of a photo bug, I try to keep my camera with me as much as possible.”

“That’s cool. Those are all cool things to do.” He moved on, “Do you have any hobbies?”

She stared back. Finally and deliberately, she said, “Yes. I like to bike, crochet, and take pictures. Next question.”

He brought his hands to cover his face.
Smooth, real smooth
. When he dared to peek through his fingers, he found her warm smile waiting for him. Lowering his hands, he said, “I’m sorry. I’m not very good at this, and I’m really nervous.”

She reached across the table and put her hand on his. “Just relax. I’m nervous too, you know? Everybody is on a first date – it’s normal.” He breathed a sigh of relief and squeezed her hand. She continued, “So Ricky, did you always want to be a rock star?” They both laughed, and by the time their food came, he had loosened up and everything went more smoothly, that is, until he took her home.

Standing at her door, she said, “Thank you, I had a really good time.”

He returned her smile. “Me too.” Slowly, Rick leaned in to kiss her. He started out slowly, gently, but as he felt himself become aroused, the kiss became more passionate. She gave the impression of being just as turned on, and soon his hands left their positions on her neck and shoulder. One traveled to her breast, and the other quickly pulled up her skirt.

She pushed him away. “Whoa, slow down there, cowboy. Jesus!”

Rick was surprised, not used to rejection, and not sure what was going on. “I thought you liked me, I thought we hit it off.”

“Well yeah, I do, but that doesn’t mean we automatically jump in the sack.”

He could tell she was upset, but he wasn’t sure how to fix it. Her look of disgust made him feel small.

“Haven’t you ever spent some time with someone before you slept with them?” He still couldn’t respond, and knew his face was bright red. “You haven’t.” She sighed and shook her head, “Oh my God. You really
are
new at this.” Reaching for his hand, she clasped it and brought it up to her lips. “I didn’t expect you to be this messed up about women,” she said, kissing the back of his hand. “But I think it’s kinda cute.”