The Girl in the Comfortable Quiet (11 page)

BOOK: The Girl in the Comfortable Quiet
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Shit. I’ve totally fucked up my life in a single
day. I should never have dared being near Alan.

“There’s another song I’d like you to record.
When are you available?”

Alan lifts his head from the cushion on the
couch. He looks at me. I’m strapped on the runaway train that is Alan again.

“I don’t know. I can’t run to LA. I can’t have
days this long away from home again. It would be easier if you came to the
house and we recorded there.”

He sits up, planting his feet on the ground.
“Fine. We’ll do it in your studio.”

My head spins. That was a stalling tactic and it
just blew up in my face.

Before I can say anything, Kathy comes through
the studio door. She drops down on the couch close to Alan, melting into his
side.

He looks at her. “You’re ready to go, aren’t
you?” he says in an affectionately teasing way.

She smiles up at him. “I was ready to go three
hours ago after you fired me.”

Kathy laughs. She doesn’t sound at all angry with
Alan. There isn’t even a hint of hostility in her eyes when she looks at me.
Amazing and so irritating. Linda is right. I would like this girl if she wasn’t
sleeping with Alan.

Alan smiles, and then looks at me. “We’re on our
way to dinner. Why don’t you join us, Chrissie?”

My gaze pauses overly long on the loose drape of
Alan’s arm around Kathy’s shoulders and how she presses against his side. The
lump in my throat is a hideous thing.

I force a smile. “No. I really need to get back
to Santa Barbara.”

Alan smiles. “Maybe next time, then. Drive
carefully.”

He leans in to me and touches my forehead with
his lips. A drive-by peck. I stand up quickly.

“Good night,” I choke out. I hurry to the door,
and then out to the driveway and my car.

By the time I reach Santa Barbara, the things I’m
fretting about have proliferated tenfold. Being with Alan was intoxicating and
torturous. So him. And he didn’t do a damn thing to make it that way. In every
moment his manner said friends, nothing else. I’m the pathetic one. Conflicting
emotions, unreasonable irritations I never expected to have, in that
this
guy used to be mine
female territorial way that I hate. Definitely wrong
since I’m happy with Neil and shouldn’t feel anything seeing Alan with
Kathy.
I should want Alan to be happy. Right?

I park my car in Jack’s driveway and pull the key
out of the ignition. Crap, it’s after 9 p.m. I told him I would be back by six.
I’ve missed Neil’s nightly call and I didn’t tell Neil what I was planning to
do today. Maybe I should have. Maybe he’d have stopped me and I wouldn’t be in
the mess I am now. Neil is going to go ballistic since I didn’t just
collaborate at the recording, I recorded my song
with
Alan. And somehow
I have been roped in to recording more and replacing Kathy on the album. 

I open the front door to the house. It’s quiet. I
poke my head into rooms as I make my way toward the back. Empty. Maybe everyone
is sleeping.

I go into Jack’s bedroom. He is sprawled on his
bed, reading, Kaley is sound asleep on his chest, and both of them are covered
in the loose drape of a throw blanket.

He turns his head and smiles at me. “Good day,
baby girl?”

“Good day. Was Kaley all right while I was gone?”

I sink on the bed beside him.

“No trouble at all. Uneventful.” He sets down his
book and adjusts Kaley in his arms. “Neil called.”

Shit. “Is he OK?”

“He’s fine. He just couldn’t reach you at the
house. He was worried. I told him everything was all right, that you went out
on your first day alone since the baby. He was happy that you finally left the
house and took some time for you away from Kaley. He wants you to call him when
you get back to the house so he knows you got home safely.”

I scoop Kaley out of Jack’s arms. “We should get
out of your way, Daddy. I’m sorry I’m so late. I lost track of time. Thank you
for watching her.”

Jack’s blue eyes sharpen in that way that makes
me tense. He stands. “My granddaughter is always welcome here. But, Chrissie,
the rule from now on is that you tell me where you’re going if you want me to
take care of your daughter. I won’t lie to your husband a second time.”

~~~

I
tuck Kaley into her cradle and climb into bed. I grab the cordless phone and my
glass of wine. I rub my lip along the edge of the glass, trying to rally the
courage to call my husband and tell him everything I’ve done today.

I can’t even imagine how pissed Neil is going to
be. Shit, it all just happened. I didn’t intend it to. But Alan gets my
circuits all crossed and like always, somehow, I just end up doing the things
he wants me to.

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.

I punch Neil’s number and take in a steadying
breath. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. My body tenses. Voice mail. Neil never sends me
to voice mail. I check the clock, trying to figure out what time it is in
Germany and my frantic mind can’t do the calculation. Instinct tells me this is
not a time-zone thing. I didn’t miss Neil by phone. Neil is not answering, not
answering me.

Breathy and alarmed, I fight to keep my voice as
steady as I can as I quickly say, “Hi. It’s me. We’re home. Sorry I missed your
call earlier. I love you, baby. Call me soon.”

I click off the phone and toss it on the bed.
Three hours later it still hasn’t rung and I am in full-blown panic. I don’t
know how he knows, a continent away, but I do know—am certain—Neil knows what I
did today.

 

CHAPTER TEN

 

June
1995

 

I
hear cars in the driveway and run for the door with Kaley in my arms. God, let
it be Neil. Let him be here. Let him be home.

Four weeks, he hasn’t taken my calls and he
hasn’t called me. The most miserable weeks of my life. I don’t care if he’s
angry. I don’t care if we fight. The silence has been crushing. I want it over.
I want to fight it out. Fuck it out. Anything. Just get back to someplace where
we’re OK. Or at least where he’ll speak to me.

Kaley starts to fuss in my arms. I’m jiggling her
too much with my hurried steps. I slow as I cross the foyer and open the front
door. I go out into the driveway and my face falls.

Cars. Why are there so many cars?

Everything starts moving too quickly around me. I
can’t keep up with the car doors opening and the people flooding my driveway.
Nate. Josh. Les Wilson. Pat Larsen. Neil brought the guys home with him. He
brought the fucking band home to be here with him for the three-week break.

Nate Kassel reaches me first. He gives me a loose
hug and a kiss on my head. “Hey, Chrissie. It’s good to see you.” He looks at
Kaley. “So this is her?”

I nod, half listening as I keep trying to find
Neil. But it’s not easy. Too many people. Who the hell are all these other
people? I watch them pour out of cars, frantically searching for green eyes.
Where the hell is he?

I look up at Nate. “What’s going on?”

His face changes and my insides go numb.

“Chrissie, do you want my advice? Just roll with
things. That’s what the guys and I have been doing. That’s why we’re here to
work during the break when all of us would rather be elsewhere. My boy has been
crazy for weeks. He is wound tighter than I’ve ever seen. Don’t push him. Not
when he’s like that.”

Wound tighter? Crazy for weeks?
Shit,
who the fuck told Neil I’ve recorded an album with Alan? Damn.

Josh Moss juts his chin at me as a hello but his
eyes scream
you fucking bitch
as he continues on toward the house. Pat
and Les smile but move quickly past me. Gear is pulled out and lugged into the
house by guys I’ve never seen before. It’s like my quiet home has been invaded
by a fucking army.

“Who are these other people?” I whisper
anxiously.

Nate rolls his shoulders. “That’s Barbara. Image
consultant. The tall one there is Patricia. She runs our PR. The rest, I don’t
know who the fuck they are. They work for the label.”

My eyes widen to their fullest. “But why are they
here?”

Nate rakes a hand through his hair. “Talk to
Neil.” His eyes grow sympathetic and intense. “It’s been fucking nuts with him.
Jesus Christ, girl, don’t you ever think before you do anything?”

I flush scarlet.

Nate relents. “He loves you, Chrissie. Just let
him work through this. Don’t push. It will be OK.”

OK?
Then why does it feel like I’m
suffocating and that something terrible is about to begin? Nate makes another
small smile at Kaley and then wanders off.

Finally, Neil climbs from a car. Green eyes, but
they are not smiling. He pauses to say something to the guy who climbs out of
the back of the limo right after him. I know he knows I’m waiting here. He keeps
talking. He doesn’t even want to come to me.

What have you done, Chrissie? What have you done?

I stay back, trying not to show how worried I am
to all these strange people crowding my life at this horrible moment and
continuing to brush past me into the house.
Roll with it, huh? Nate, I’m not
sure what I’m rolling with.

I study Neil. Four months on the road, and he
looks terrible. Fatigue lines. His tan without glow. Posture one of exhaustion.
Or was it me? Did I do that to him, not the road? My heart clenches. I’ve never
seen Neil look so ragged and weary.

Once everyone is gone from the driveway, he comes
around the car to me.

“Neil, I’m so glad you’re home. I’ve missed you.
We both have.”

Neil just stares at me. He rakes a hand through
his hair. The look in his eyes turns me cold as his jaw clenches and
unclenches.

After a minute, or what feels like forever, of
silence, he lifts Kaley from my arms. He kisses her and holds her close. He says
nothing to me. He goes inside the house.

~~~

I
hurry down the hallway. Everyone is finally in a guest room. Everyone finally
has everything they need. The waiting has been torturous.

I rush up the stairs onto the main level. Shit,
Neil has moved from the living room sofa. Where is he? My nerves are so taut
that if I have to wait another second to find out what’s going on with him, and
us, I’m going to shatter into pieces.

Family room is empty. Kitchen, no one. I go to
the nursery. Kaley is asleep in her crib. Shit, he put the baby in her room,
where she never sleeps, and not in the bassinette beside our bed. He doesn’t
want her in the room with us, but I now know where Neil is waiting for me.

I go down the hall and turn the bedroom knob.
Neil is lying on the bed, still dressed in his traveling clothes, arms covering
his eyes. He’s awake. I can tell by his breathing.

I close the door and hang back, leaning against
it.

“Please, Neil, just talk to me,” I implore. “You
haven’t talked to me in weeks. I can’t take it anymore. I’m sorry for
everything. But I need to know that we’re OK. I can’t take another minute
unless I know we are going to be OK.”

His arms move. His eyes open. The look he gives
me rends my heart. “Goddamn you, Chrissie.” His voice is anguished and furious,
and those definitely are not the words I want, but at least he’s finally
speaking to me.

“Who told you?”

His eyes flash. “Fuck, is that all you care
about? Who told me?”

He sits up, his posture coiled, his muscles
quivering from the anger pulsing through him. He looks at me. My breathing
hitches.

“I know you live detached from the world, but the
world is still there. A reporter called for comment the day you were down there
recording with him. How the fuck do you think that made me feel, to find out
you were with
him
from a reporter? When I’m fucking three thousand miles
away on the road, busting my hump for us, and you don’t even bother to pick up
the phone and talk to me first. Jesus Christ, Chrissie—” The way he says that
makes me flinch. He sounds on the verge of punching the wall or tears. “The
promotions for
Long and Hard
and the new album
have been in the
trades for weeks. It’s made my life on the road a fucking nightmare. Everyone
talking about you. You and Alan. You’ve turned me into a fucking joke. How did
you think I would react to this, Chrissie? Don’t stare at me like I’m behaving
irrationally.”

I jump. “I’m not. And you’re not.”

He drops his face into his hands, his fingers
tightly clenched in his hair. “Fuck, I just want Alan Manzone out of my life
and I can’t get rid of him.” His face shoots up. His eyes are raging. “Are you
fucking him? Are you having an affair with him? Did you fuck him, Chrissie?”

My body grows cold as the entirety of my body
heat concentrates in my cheeks. “NO! How could you ask me that, Neil? I love
you.”

I cross the room to him then, sinking down
between his knees, but I don’t touch him. Something warns me not to yet.

He runs a hand across his face. “You have a
fucking terrible way of showing me that you love me.”

I flinch. “I didn’t plan to record with Alan—”

The look in his eyes silences me. “What the fuck
did you plan?”

“Nothing! I went down to be in the studio when
they recorded my song. That’s all, Neil. I was wrong, but I thought you’d
understand my wanting to be there with my music. And you are definitely right,
I should have told you first. But the rest of it just sort of happened. I
didn’t think.”

“How does it
just
sort of happen
that
you’ve recorded two albums with Alan Manzone that I know nothing about, and are
pretty much fucking launching your career as an artist tied to him?”

I lower my gaze. Hearing it in words makes it
sound even more awful. Oh jeez. What have I done?

“We recorded
Long and Hard
six years ago
in his apartment in New York. The label shelved it. I never thought it would be
released. Alan told me it wouldn’t. Not ever. That’s why I never told you about
it.”

“Fuck.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re always sorry, Chrissie.”

“I love you.”

He shakes his head, as if not wanting to believe
me or maybe not wanting to forgive.

The emotion starts to churn in his eyes again. “I
don’t know what to think, Chrissie. I don’t know how to get through how I’m
feeling about this. It’s felt like there is a knife in my stomach for weeks and
I can’t pull it out.”

Fear chills me. “What are you saying? Are you
thinking about ending us? Do you want a divorce?”

Neil looks so sad. Weary and despondent. His
teeth cut into his lower lip in that way he has when he’s desperately
struggling with his emotions and words.

He shakes his head. “I’m saying I don’t know if
or how we get through this. I love you, Chrissie, but I don’t even know if I
want to get through this.”

~~~

I
climb from my bed. 8 a.m. Fuck, the longest night of my life. I stare at the
neatly tucked in blankets on the far side of the bed. Everything starts running
rattling and loose inside me again. We haven’t had sex for months, and our
first night together he slept elsewhere.

Where did Neil sleep?

The hallway is quiet when I enter it. Good, maybe
the intruders on the lower level are still in their rooms. Maybe I’ll get a few
minutes alone with Neil to read the lay of the land today.

I peek into Kaley’s nursery. Not here. In the
kitchen I find a pot of coffee half empty and still warm. I pour a cup. Beside
the sink is a dirty bottle with an empty breast milk pouch. My lips curl in a
downward smile. Kaley woke last night. I must have slept through it. Neil got
her and fed her. Damn it, I have fucked up royally here, haven’t I?

Sipping my coffee, I stare out the window above
the sink. Nate is on the small patio sofa, feet propped on an ottoman, sipping
coffee and looking like he just rolled out of bed after one hell of a night.
Maybe Neil roomed with him since there isn’t a spare bedroom in the house.
Probably, they’re tight buddies, and Nate looks like hell.

I go out onto the back patio and curl in a chair
beside Nate.

Nate smiles at me. “Hey, you hanging in there,
Chrissie?”

I flush. “I’m OK.”

Nate shakes his head. “You could hear my boy all
through the house yesterday shouting at you. I almost busted in and stopped it.
I was worried about you. And fuck, he didn’t shut up for a minute last night.”

I pause my cup at my lips and sniff to hold back
my threatening tears. “I’m sorry. Do you know where he is?”

Nate points toward the trail into the forest.
“Took off about seven with Kaley strapped to his chest. Asked me if I wanted to
hike. I said ‘fuck no. I need some space from you.’”

The way Nate says that makes me laugh, though it
shouldn’t. He’s such a sweet guy in his way.

My lips do a downward smile. “I’m sorry my
problems are your problem.”

“Don’t sweat it, Chrissie. It’s cool.”

We sit on the patio, not talking and just staring
at the trees, sipping our coffee.

Nate looks at me with an expression of exhausted
amusement. “It took us six years on the road to get where we are today. Someday
you’re going to have to explain to me how you go from doing nothing to the top
of the music industry recording two albums with fucking Alan Manzone.”

My face heats with a burn. I can’t believe he
said that. Then Nate’s expression transforms into that
oh shit, good one
kind of thing and I can tell he just remembered my history with Alan.

I pretend not to notice.

“Shit, Chrissie, I’ll say this about you. When
you fuck up, you fuck up big.”

He chuckles and I bite back my words because he
doesn’t mean it the way I’m taking it. A clumsily worded joke.
So Nate
.
And I don’t want to piss him off. Right now he feels like the only friend I
have in the house.

I set down my cup. “Do you want some breakfast?”

“Nah, you don’t have to go to any trouble,
Chrissie.”

I smile. “It’s no trouble. Not for you.”

He slips an arm around me and that’s all it takes
to get me to curl into him and start crying again. Damn.

“It’s going to be OK,” Nate whispers into my
hair. “My boy is crazy in love with you. Doesn’t even look at the women on the
road. You are all he thinks of. All he wants. Back to his room first thing
every night to call you, Chrissie. Shows me every picture and video of Kaley
you send him. You and Kaley are all that there is for him. That’s not going to
change. Not ever. It wouldn’t hurt him so much, Chrissie, if he wasn’t crazy in
love with you.”

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