Authors: Kimball Lee
“I hate to hear that, we certainly wouldn’t want a friend of Andrew Perrin’s to leave unhappy.” He looked down at a report he was working on and said, “He prefers the twenty-five dollar machine on the far end sometimes.”
I gathered my purse and the cash and moved to the machine, settled in front of it, lit a cigarette and things began to look brighter. I added sixty thousand to the lock box a half hour later and gave Mark a gracious tip.
At the condo I searched through my bags looking for my sleeping pills but they were nowhere to be found. I rummaged through my purse and then my luggage and realized I didn’t have my Xanax either.
Shit!
I knew they were on the bathroom counter at home; I just picked the new prescriptions up from the drugstore. I wouldn’t be able to get a refill for thirty days, how could I have forgotten them? I took a small pill box from my purse; it had a few Xanax but no Ambien. I swallowed a Xanax to quell my anxiety and sat on the bed to think. I could have Emily overnight them but that seemed pretty desperate, she was meeting me in a week, she could bring them then.
But I need them
, my mind screamed,
what if something happens, what if I have a breakdown, what if I fall off the edge
?
Face it, I told myself, I gamble and I take pills. So what if they’re legal? I don’t need them every day, maybe it’s not addiction, but its damn sure dependence.
Dependence, not a pretty word, I remembered John’s love of Vicodin and I walked to his closet. I was wracked with guilt as I quickly checked his luggage, nothing. There was a shirt, a pair of jeans and a jacket hanging and I felt through the pockets. I found three bottles of Vicodin all with prescription labels with the names blacked out and a small bag of white powder. I was shaking so badly I dropped one of the bottles, I reached down to pick it up and noticed a safe in the corner.
It was freestanding, larger than a wall safe, probably three or four feet tall and two feet wide and deep. I sat in front of it, not caring if I was caught and studied the keypad. I punched in his birthdate, nothing happened. I tried my birthdate, nothing. I racked my brain to think of any day that meant something to him. I punched in our wedding date and the door opened.
It was packed with neat black boxes, more than I could readily count. I took one out and a computer generated label read, ‘Bellagio, Las Vegas, NV’ and below it, ‘Assurance Chip Company’. I pulled out more boxes and they were labeled
Harrah’s
,
Venetian
,
Luxor
,
Palms
. There were stacks and stacks of them, I began to open them and they were filled with thousand dollar chips, a box labeled
Wynn
was half empty. My heart was pounding out of my chest, my mind ran wild, trying to find a reason for what I’d found. I dropped the box I was holding on the floor with the pills and the powder and went to the bedroom and lay on the bed, curled into a ball.
Hours later when John came in I was sitting on the sofa.
“Still awake, what’s up, buddy?” he asked and stretched out beside me. “Did you need your husband again?”
He started to unzip the jeans I’d put on. I stopped his hand and said, “Go look in the closet.”
A dozen emotions played across his face and he disappeared into the bedroom. I followed when he didn’t come back and found him sitting on the edge of the bed, staring blankly.
“Do I want to know?”
“No,” he said, “it’s better if you don’t. Cate, Cate, I wanted to be something, not just a contractor and I know it doesn’t make it alright but I like giving you the kind of life you had before. How long would you have loved me if I was always less than you?”
“I married you with what you had or didn’t have. I couldn’t love you more; did you think I needed all this?”
“I don’t know, I got into it before we met, just not as much. Then I met you and fuck, I fell hard, like I never thought I could feel for someone. And you had all these hot-shot rich friends; I saw how they looked at me, what they thought I was. Just your
boy
, someone to fuck and show off at parties. I didn’t ever want you to see me that way so I got into it deeper and then it was like gambling— bigger chances, higher highs.”
“And the drugs?”
“Yeah, Vicodin, a little coke now and then when I need to stay alert. I don’t have any excuse you’ll accept. And there’s something else.”
I caught my breath and moved to the far side of the room, sat on a chaise in front of the windows, “Tell me.”
“Not a crime,” he said, “but you’ll probably get some calls from my family, they’ll ask questions. I don’t care what you say to them, I’m done with them anyway.”
I was afraid to ask but I had to, “What did you do to him? Are you going to prison? Oh, God.”
He laughed and it was small and bitter, “I didn’t touch him, I took his precious money, my money really. He had it stashed in a rinky-dink floor safe. I helped him pour concrete around it when we were building his house, he covered it with carpet and he was so fucking proud. Ignorant hillbilly didn’t trust banks, liked to squirrel money away, money he fucked people out of, money he would take out and gloat over.”
“So you broke into his house?”
“No, he gave me a key when I helped him build it. I knew my parents were going on a cruise with my grandma for her birthday; I wore gloves and walked right in the front door. I took a portable welding machine and cut into the safe, it took longer than I thought and everything was covered in black ash. When I finally cut through, the door fell in and it was so hot it burned most of the money.” He started laughing, walked over and sat on the end of the chaise by my feet, held out his arm and it was covered with nasty burns. “I stuck my arm in to grab the door and it burned the shit out of me. I finally lifted it out, stuffed the money in a bag and left. I drove west for a long time, pulled off on a dirt road somewhere near El Paso, changed my clothes and burned the old ones, ditched the welding tank and torch.” He looked at me and his eyes sparkled with tears, “It was the only thing I could do so that he would hurt and have to live with it. He never reported that cash to the government so he won’t report it missing.”
I pressed my hands to my mouth but I couldn’t keep from laughing, I thought of Ben Foster and his ruined safe and his miserly, pigeon-holed savings and I laughed until I nearly wet my pants.
He lay down, rested his head in my lap, “I mess things up and I know I’ve ruined us, but I love you and wouldn’t you risk everything to hold on to what you love?”
I tugged on his hair; the action had become so much a part of me, an ingrained response.
“I love you too, let me say that first. But I can’t live with this situation. It’s not just me and you who will get hurt; I have my parents, my sisters, Emily to consider. I can’t hurt them, the things they’ve carried me through, I know you think you understand but you can’t. Whatever you’ve been doing doesn’t look small time, it’s going to mean prison time. How can I do that to the people who love me— go to jail, have them believe I’m a thief, a criminal? My parents are getting older; they’ve suffered for me so much. If I don’t walk away now it will be because of my own selfishness. John, you need to get out of this somehow but I can’t stay with you while you do. I can’t be an accessory although I guess I already am. And the drugs, you lied and said you were done with them but who am I to judge, my pills are prescribed but I’m going to have to stop, I want them too much.”
“I’ll unravel this mess and we’ll start over,” he said and we both wanted to believe it. The sun was coming in through the walls of glass and I felt his tears spilling onto my lap.
I nudged him so that he sat up and stared out at the Strip. I walked to the bed and said, “Close the curtains, let’s sleep until I leave.”
Twenty Four
I left before he woke, it’s the only way I know, you wake up and what you love is gone. I placed the chain with the gold compass beside the bed; the one McKay gave me so that I could find my way back. At the airport I paid a ridiculous amount to get on a plane that was leaving immediately, less chance that he might show up and change my mind. I slept on the flight, left my phone off when we landed, went home and slept through the rest of the day and another night. I called Emily the next morning and told her not to fly to Las Vegas, to cancel the trip.
She was frantic to know what happened and I heard myself saying, “I’ve left John and I know, I know, but I’ll talk to you later.” I sat on the floor of my closet and stared at all the beautiful clothes and shoes and purses I’d need to get rid of, give to charity. Wouldn’t someone be surprised to find
Chanel
at Goodwill, but it all looked like stolen money, how could I keep any of it? I made a pile in the middle of the bedroom and as I watched it overflow I realized, what a waste, fabric and leather and metal… and for what? Two lives were ruined. I cried as I had so often, for me and for John and then I stopped crying because he was still on the planet so there was hope. I picked up the phone and dialed his number, not caring what happened, I just wanted to hear his voice. A recording informed me that the number was no longer in service and as my body turned cold as ice I told myself, “Don’t worry, it’s fine, he’ll fix everything.”
I stared at the phone and then sent the text, ‘Might be in Florida soon’. An hour later my cell phone rang and I didn’t recognize the number.
“Cate, this is a land line, cell service is hit or miss in the islands. When are you coming?”
I gulped, trying not to cry and my voice trembled, “I’ve left John and I still love him but I don’t know if it can work.”
“Where are you now?” he asked, his voice was concerned and I could tell that he, like Henry before him, wanted to fix everything for me.
“San Antonio.”
“I want you to come down here; you can lie on the beach, turn off your phone and figure it out. Its shelter from the storm, you don’t need to worry.”
“Alright,” I said, wearily.
“Let me find a flight, I’ll call you back.”
***
When I saw him at the tiny airport in Nassau, I burst into tears. He hugged me and I wanted to hide from the world in his broad chest, his strong arms holding me steady.
“McKay, McKay.”
“Shhh,” he said. “You’ll be fine, I’ve got you.”
I put my things away in a guest room on the boat and then roamed around, searched out corners where I could sit and just be.
McKay gave me my space and didn’t hover, Josh tended the boat and he was polite but kept to himself.
We cruised through waters as blue as the bluest eyes I’d ever known, I dove in as soon as we anchored and swam until I was too tired to think. McKay left his IPad on my bed with a note to download whatever reading material I wanted. I downloaded books and searched the news when I could get a signal. I read endlessly and he watched me. He didn’t ask questions, didn’t move in too close, he was just there and it helped.
We walked together on hidden islands where there were no boat docks, we rode the Jet Skis to shore and I marveled at the pink sand. He loved showing me that paradise of minor miracles, shells and lizards and plants and insects all as odd as if we’d fallen down the rabbit hole. We snorkeled and there were fishes that made you want to laugh underwater and sea creatures so strange that you knew God had a sense of humor. We lay in the sun on deck and he rubbed sunscreen into my skin. I was comfortable with his hands smoothing over my body and when I caught the longing in his eyes he looked away.
We traveled around the Bahamian Islands and I was astonished that there were so many, each with its peculiar pleasures to offer. McKay asked where I wanted to spend the Fourth of July, could that much time have passed I wondered? My family knew I was separated from John and I was safe with McKay, but I missed them and wished I could be with them in Seaside. He said that perhaps we should get off the boat for a few days, dock on Paradise Island and check into the
Atlantis Resort
. We needed to shop and we could gamble and dress up for dinner. Those things we did and I found that I liked to stand and turn silently; trying on clothes and accessories that he admired and bought for me. He chose a white strapless
Dolce and Gabbana
dress with a pattern of embroidered red roses for me to wear to dinner on the Fourth. We dined on the beach at a candlelit table and watched fireworks explode over the Caribbean.
“I’m in love with you,” he said, “but, you already know that. I wanted to say it for the first time on a night like this.”
***
From my room I could see small explosions here and there, roman candles shooting out over the water. A year ago John said “I love you a lot” and I knew from the color of his eyes it was true. Where was he, watching fireworks over water, in jail, fled to Mexico? I carried my phone to bed and listened to the ‘out of order’ message until I fell asleep.
From the Bahamas we moved to Key West, explored the town and all things Hemmingway. I downloaded and reread every word that Papa ever published. We returned to Destin just as the hurricanes began to blow into the Gulf, we’d been floating for three months.
At the airport I kissed McKay gently on the mouth, he held me close and seemed to breathe me in and then we boarded our separate flights for home.
Emily picked me up at the airport in her new little Mercedes sports car and she looked svelte and sexy.
“Damn, sister girl,” I said, “I’m off suffering for three months and you don’t even have the decency to look miserable when I get back? Didn’t you miss me a little?”
“You know I did but as you can see, I did not miss one appointment with Dr. Michael Stein!”
“What did you do? Get a facelift to go with your Barbie dream car?”
“Oh, a little lipo, a little Botox.”
“You’re kidding, did you really? Did it hurt?”
“Honey, it only hurt Rob when he paid the bill.”
We laughed and drove to
Soluna
, sat on the patio, ordered margaritas and caught up on three months of gossip.
We lingered until early evening and she said, “I’d better call Rob and let him know where I am, he’s so attentive now that I look like a younger version of myself.”
“Have him join us,” I said, as she searched her purse for her phone.
“Dial my number, damn; I can’t keep up with that thing.”
I looked at my cell and realized I’d forgotten to turn it on after the flight; in fact it’d been off since early morning. I turned it on and the screen showed six missed calls from the same number. My heart thumped as I hit voicemail and listened.
“What is it?” Emily asked, seeing the look on my face.
“Not sure, some man needs to talk to me, he’s called six times.”
I hit the redial button and a voice said, “This is Officer Morgan.”
I could barely make myself speak, “Hi, this is Cate Stuart, I’m returning…”
“Ms. Stuart, you’re married to John Foster? You’re his next of kin?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry to inform you that he was found dead in his apartment this morning.”
I threw the phone as far as I could, silly as that sounds and pushed the chair back and walked away.
Emily drove up beside me, I was walking south on Broadway, toward home, I guess.
She rolled down the window and said, “Please get in.”
I kept walking; trying to stay on the grass, I don’t know why I cared.
“I’m going home,” I said, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Catey-bug, you live way downtown and I’ve got your purse and keys so you better get in.”
I stopped and looked at her and tears poured down my face, I sat in the grass and hugged my knees. She pulled into a driveway, got out and sat beside me.
“It’s too much, I know. Will you come home with me or do you wanna just sit?” Emily said, her voice full of worry.
I shrugged and couldn’t say a word.
“Why don’t we go to my house and figure things out. Cate? We’re sitting on the side of the road, sweetie.”
I flinched, “Please don’t call me that. Let’s go, I guess.”
We drove to Emily’s, past my old house, I stared out the window, how much could I stand?
“I want to fly to Vegas tonight,” I said, “he’s out there alone.”
Rob waited on the driveway as we got out of the car and hugged me, “Hey, sweetie, we’re going to take care of things.”
“Don’t call her that!” Emily snapped and mouthed “sweetie” as if I wasn’t there.
I dreamt the dreams of the grave; tangled, heavy, and comfortless. Words and scenes, a torrent of remembrance, “Angelic guards ascended, mute and sad.” I stood over Henry’s body in a green hospital room, Mother and Emily watched me, seeing him newly dead. “Go and see, go and see, go and see,” I told him. I handed Laura a blanket from my bed to wrap Brooks, “So he won’t be cold,” she nodded and walked into the morgue. John Lennon singing “Beautiful Boy” at the funeral, Henry in tears, “How could you play that song?” The urn beside my bed for months, where else should it be? No one has gone before him, can’t scatter my child to the wind. Place the urn in the coffin; he’ll be safe there with his Daddy. Nail a cross to the tree above the grave; make the headstone wide enough for three. Carve my name first, then my husband’s, then my son’s. Let them know I’m always with them, make sure they know I’m coming too.
I opened my eyes and the digital clock read six twenty-four. I was in Emily’s bed fully clothed; she slept across from me. I smelled coffee, walked into the kitchen, Rob leaned against the counter with a cup in his hand, my face crumbled when I saw him, he looked so much like a husband.
He held me and whispered, “It’s okay, kiddo, hang on. I’m so sorry, so sorry.”
Emily appeared behind me and embraced both of us, “Catey-bug, we have a plane to catch soon, can you take a shower? Get dressed?” I stood back and looked from one to the other, not comprehending. “We’re going to Las Vegas; we need to bring him home.”
***
Emily and I took a cab to the
Nevada
condominium, she and Rob had been in contact with the building manager, as well as Officer Morgan and the Coroner. They’d also gathered information on funeral homes. The elevator whisked us to the condo and my mind couldn’t find a place of rest. Officer Morgan removed the seal placed on the front door and we entered. It looked cold and unlived in, nothing out of place. The bed showed the only signs that anyone had been there, only his side had been slept in.
“You can take what you want, we’ve been over the place inch by inch. Everything remains exactly as it was when we found… Mr. Foster.”
I walked to the side of the bed and looked down at the drug paraphernalia that Emily told me to expect, the heroin was gone but there was a spoon, lighter, syringe. He hated needles, I saw every inch of his body, there were no marks, how could it be?
“This is my side of the bed.”
“Excuse me?” the officer said.
“He slept on the right, near the bathroom, why would he shoot heroin over here?”
He was at a loss for an answer. The nightstand on John’s side of the bed held only a cell phone and his iPod. I opened the drawers, they were empty except for the travel brochures from the trip Emily and I never got to take. I looked through the bathroom and closet, the safe was gone, there was no evidence that it ever existed. I picked up a shirt from the floor that still smelled of him and tears sprang to my eyes but I willed them away. I put the phone and iPod, the shirt, a bottle of cologne and the travel brochures in my purse.
Officer Morgan handed me a manila envelope with John’s wallet and wedding band.
“He had these on him?” I asked.
“Yes, it seems he was preparing to go out or had just returned home, a maid found him, she called 911 and then disappeared. She was here illegally most likely, afraid of immigration. As I told Mr. Van Sant, it looks like an accidental overdose, the autopsy has been done but it will take a few weeks for the results of the tox screen.”
“You didn’t find a gold chain with a compass?”
“No, just what’s here.”
In the lobby I talked to the manager, left money for the removal of John’s personal items, walked outside with Emily.
“I left John the chain and compass, why wasn’t it found?”
“Honey, the maid might have taken it.”
I stared into the distance, to the mountains rising far away, “Might have taken it.”
“Damn,” Emily said, “with everything to take care of I forgot to reserve a room.”
I told the cab driver to take us to the
Wynn
. In the high limit room Mark flashed a genuine smile.
“My goodness, it’s been awhile, Miss Stuart, we’ve missed you. Drew was in earlier, he asked if I had seen you lately, would you like me to pull your lock box?”
“I need a room, maybe for two or three nights. This is my friend Emily Van Sant, one room will be fine, will you help me?”