Between a Rock and a Hard Place (12 page)

Angel’s smile was back.  The sound of her voice was as soothing as the sea outside the hotel window.  “It’s almost four in the morning, but I wanted to hear your voice.”

“Is Tommy OK?”

“Yes.  He’s asleep.  I woke up and forgot you weren’t here, and I missed you.”

Her momentary silence expressed her surprise.  “That’s really sweet, Angel.”

“I just . . . I don’t know.  I’m not used to being without you, that’s all.  You’re a big part of my life, Jessi, and all of sudden you’re not here.  You always took care of me.  You made sure I had all the pieces to my wardrobe.  You made sure me and Tommy got enough rest before a show.  You’re a very nurturing woman.”  He envisioned the type of mother she would be.  She would always be doting over her children, protecting them from . . . everything, and she would be directly involved in their lives.  She would never have a nanny.  She would be the mom that always went on school trips and that took all the kids to the movies.  She would be the mother that all the other kids congregated around and wished for as their own.  “I feel your absence, sweetheart.  It’s like a part of me is missing.”

“I wish I could be there.  I miss you, too.  And I miss Tommy.  I miss being at the shows.  I watch them on the internet, but it’s not the same.”

She sounded miserable and he was being insensitive.  He was here with Tommy and she was home alone.  He was glad Alyssa was with her to keep her company, although he was sure those two would raise hell given the chance.  It brought a smile to his lips.  “What are you doing right now?  Are you and Alyssa getting into all kinds of trouble together?”

“Hardly.  I’m sitting on the deck going over everything for the boutique on my laptop.  I can’t believe it’s opening in a few weeks.  Thank you for your help, Angel.  I owe you a great deal.  You made everything happen for me.”

“You don’t have to thank me, and you don’t owe me a thing.  I’m always here for you.  You can always count on me if you need anything.  I mean that.”

“I know you do.  It’s late and you have a busy day tomorrow.  Get back to sleep and give Tommy a kiss for me.  Tell him I love him.”

“I will, and I’ll have him call you in the morning.  Love you.”

“I love you, too, and thanks for calling.  You brightened my whole day.  Bye.”

“Bye, sweetheart.”

Angel tiptoed back to bed, mindful not to wake Tommy.  He replayed the conversation in his head and imagined Jessi with the two children from his dream – her children.  The three of them would make beautiful babies together.  He just needed the right time to bring it up.

 

Chapter Twelve

Jessi sat in the middle of the bed with today’s newspaper.  It was Tommy’s spot, but until he returned, it was her new temporary residence.  It not only made her feel closer to him, but it made the huge bed seem a little less empty. She took the photo album and scissors off the night stand and opened the newspaper.  Tommy and Angel were on page twelve. They were in Beijing having lunch at an outdoor market.  In the background were a string of gift shops and she hoped they picked up something for her.  It would be a memento to accompany her scrap book.

Her cell phone buzzed and she reached down to retrieve it from the foot of the bed.

“Tommy!  I was just thinking about you.”

“Hi, hon. I know it’s late.  I just wanted to wish you a good night.  Are you already in bed?”

“Yeah, but I’m not sleepy.”  She didn’t want to tell him about the scrapbook.  It was going to be a surprise.  “Tell me about your day.”

“It’s only noon here.  We had a morning talk show interview and performed two songs.  Now we got a couple of hours off before we have a radio promo spot this afternoon.  What did you do today?”

There was a lot to tell him.  Everything fell into place in the last few days and it all happened so quickly she could barely catch her breath.  “I finish classes tomorrow.  I can’t believe I’m going to graduate next week.  Finally!”

“And is the boutique all ready to open?”

The boutique was another surprise.  She didn’t want to tell him how Ricardo, Angel’s dad, helped her transform it from a small boutique into a full size retail store by renting the adjoining space and knocking down the wall.  “It just needs the last finishing touches and I’ll be ready to open the doors on schedule right after the graduation ceremony.  And I got my invite to Fashion Week today.  I got a front row seat.”  In the previous years that she attended Fashion Week, she went as an associate designer as an employee of the small house she worked for.  This year she was invited as an up and coming designer and got a prestigious first row seat.  It was an honor.  “And they’re letting me bring two models so I can show off my designs.”

“That’s wonderful.  Next year, you’re going to have your own runway show.  I can’t believe the month is almost over and we’re going to be together again soon.  I can’t wait to see you and to see your store.  I’ve – hang on a sec.”

There were voices in the background.  It sounded like Audra or Marissa.

“I’m sorry. I gotta run.  Call me in the morning when you wake up.  OK?”

“OK, baby.  I love you.  Give my love to Angel.”

“Will do. I love you, too.  Bye.”

“Bye.”

She stared at her phone until it went dark.  They never had enough time for a long phone call and with the time difference it was hard to catch each other at a decent hour.  At least she got to speak to him before she went to bed.

She returned to the newspaper and scrapbook.  She carefully cut out the photo along with the small article, and pasted it on the next free page in her album.  The album wasn’t just for her; it was for Tommy and Angel to memorialize their trip.  She turned to the first page and looked at the photo from JFK when they said goodbye at the security check point before they boarded the plane.  She studied the sadness in their faces.  The caption commented on her absence on the tour and it rekindled the anguish she suffered on the horrible morning that they left.  It was one of the saddest days of her life.

She skimmed through the next couple of pages.  A few photos were from live concerts, and some showcased the entire band out sightseeing, but most were of Tommy and Angel together.  She loved those the most, because they were intimate moments that captured the chemistry between the two.

A series of three photos caught her eye.  In the first frame, Tommy was running several feet ahead of Angel and he was looking back at Tommy. In the next frame, Angel had his arms wrapped around Tommy’s chest from behind and they both had their mouths open in laughter. She chuckled as she imagined them chasing each other and being goofy. The last frame showed the two of them walking with their arms around each other, oblivious to the camera or anything else around them.  She glanced down at the caption. 
While The Mrs. Is Away, The Boys Will Play.
She frowned.  That wasn’t very nice.

She flipped through a few more pages and stopped to admire a photo of Tommy and Angel sharing an intimate dinner at a restaurant in Shanghai.  They had their eyes focused on one another.  It was one of those intimate gazes that nothing could shake; not even a bomb would break their trance.  She wondered what Tommy and Angel were eating. Although Angel’s specialty was Cuban cuisine, his knowledge of ethnic food was broad.  She imagined she was at the table with them sharing a scrumptious meal at Angel’s recommendation.

She read the caption.
Immortal Angel Front Man, Lead Guitarist Bond in Shanghai, While Wife Stays Behind. 
Her back stiffened and she straightened up.  Damn paparazzi.  They weren’t usually antagonistic.

Another caption caught her eye.
No Wife, Happy Life.
She snorted at the insult. It was rude.  She didn’t like it and wondered why she didn’t remember reading it before. Depicted next to the caption were a series of three photos which all showed Tommy and Angel engrossed in each other’s eyes. One photo captured Angel feeding Tommy something from a skewer with his fingers.  Tommy’s teeth were just touching the meat and his lips were drawn back into an open smile.  In the next photo Tommy held a T-shirt up to Angel’s chest to check the size.  It was a rock band with Chinese writing. In the last photo they were walking with their arms around each other on the beach underneath a magenta sky.  It was taken from the back and Tommy had his head on Angel’s shoulder.  It was the epitome of romance.  All three photos portrayed the closeness between the two, and she missed them more than ever.

She flipped back to the other photos and re-read the captions again.  She never paid much attention to them before, but now the cruel connotations were a harsh slap in the face.  She looked closely at the photos and at the love that transpired between Tommy and Angel through the camera.

The empty bed was a lonesome reminder of their separation and her heartache was augmented by the exaggerated newspaper headlines that insinuated they didn’t miss her.  She forgot how insensitive and cruel the paparazzi could be.  They took the truth and spun it into lies.  They wove a tale of inaccuracy to sell a story, no matter who got hurt along the way.  She hated it.

She glanced back down at the scrap book but her vision was blurred by the tears that welled in her eyes.  She slammed the scrapbook closed with a loud clap and threw it on the floor.  She clutched Tommy’s pillow in her arms and fell into her own spot on the bed.  The pillow still contained the scent of Tommy’s hair, but it didn’t console her.  She longed to touch his silky hair again and run her fingers through it.  She reached across the bed and grabbed Angel’s pillow and huddled it into her arms next to Tommy’s.  She was alone with no one to comfort her.  She buried her face in the two pillows, inhaled the lingering scent of Tommy and Angel, and cried until she fell asleep.

 

Chapter Thirteen

Other books

Wading Into Murder by Joan Dahr Lambert
Spy Girl by Jillian Dodd
Tempting Danger by Eileen Wilks
Imitation in Death by J. D. Robb
Scotched by Kaitlyn Dunnett
Shingaling by R. J. Palacio