“A whole lot of nothing?” Keila repeated, her blood slowly turning to ice. Why would he say that? she wondered. Was he just trying to protect their privacy? Or was it because she hadn’t jumped at the chance to have an affair? Because those words, a whole lot of
nothing
…
Nobody looked at anybody for a long moment.
“I think he did this for the votes; that’s what I think.” Tania finally broke the silence.
“What? That doesn’t make any sense!” Robbie looked at Tania as if she’d flipped.
“It makes perfect sense. She appeals to minorities, women, working class people, and well-educated people. That’s like more than half the city right there. I think he wanted to be seen with her to boost his numbers ‘cause it worked in the past. He planned this.”
Keila remembered thinking the same thing the night he’d offered her a ride.
“Okay, that’s enough, Tania; I think we’ve all just about had it with your poisonous man-hating theories. I happen to think Jake’s a good guy,” Robbie said, a little too harshly.
Tania looked up. “You think I’m poisonous?”
Robbie sighed and put his hand on Tania’s shoulder. “Let’s put it this way, if I listened to half of the stuff you spout out, I’d be straight,” Robbie smiled and they almost laughed, but the tension in the room didn’t quite allow it.
“I’m sorry,” Tania said, sitting back down and covering her face. “I just … I don’t want any of you to ever be deeply hurt.”
But it was probably too late for that. Keila often thought Tania took things way too far when it came to touting the evil ways of men, but this time, she had to wonder if her sister was right. Jake tended to alternately run hot and cold. She’d thought his putting on a cold demeanor had to do with his need to protect his deeper self. But maybe it wasn’t that at all. Maybe he put up the hot act with Keila as a means to create a political persona she and other people could relate to?
Keila looked over as Cate sat down on an armchair, picked up a stitched cushion and hugged it to her. If possible, she looked even more miserable than Keila. Their eyes met and her friend said, “Look, Keila, I love you and Jake both. Jake’s been like a part of my family for about as long as I can remember, and he’s been very good to me. And you’re my best friend. I can’t choose sides here. If either of you
really
wants to talk to me;
really
wants to tell me how all of this happened and what’s
really
going on inside those heads of yours, I’ll always be here to listen. But I can’t listen to either of you bash the other, okay?”
Surprised Cate was feeling as if she had to choose sides, Keila reached over to squeeze her friend’s hand. Of course Cate looked miserable, Keila thought. She’d formally introduced them and the results were turning out to be disastrous.
• • •
The very next evening, just as she headed out with a renewed sense of joy over her dreams and hard work becoming achievements, she heard an unfamiliar voice call her name as she was about to climb down the porch steps. She frowned when she saw Pete the Blogger because, nice as he seemed to be, she had to wonder about his reasons for seeking her out again.
“Hi Pete, what brings you here?”
“Can we sit?” he asked, gesturing to the steps.
“Um, it’s cold. But I guess I could sit for a few minutes,” she agreed, not knowing Pete well enough to invite him in. Glancing at her watch she saw she had ten minutes before the bus came.
“Sorry to bother you, but I have something to tell you, and something I need to show you.” He cleared his throat. “You saw the pictures in the paper yesterday?”
Keila nodded and tried not to act anxious.
“I saw you and Jake at the Wal-Mart off exit 315 late Wednesday night, Keila. My mom and her husband live in Bradley and I stopped by for a few things before heading to her house for Thanksgiving,” he paused. “I know you’re the woman in those pictures,” he stated, his tone matter of fact.
Keila slowly inhaled, and tried to think of ways to deny it, but she was awful at lying and nothing came to mind. She was about to ask him what he was going to do with the information when he continued.
“I don’t think you lied to me that time I asked about you and Jake Kelly, though. I looked back at the entire video and it hit me you were a little too passionate, as if you were in denial or something,” he grinned. “I like you and your mom. I think people like you are what make Chicago great, and my blog isn’t about gossip, it’s about what makes the city great, so I’m not going to blog about you and Jake. Your secret’s safe with me.”
“But what about your mom? You must’ve told her. Will she announce it on
She Said, She Said
?”
“I haven’t told her, and I won’t. I’m not going to tempt her with info and then tell her she can’t use it.”
“I knew you were nice. I’m rarely wrong about people!” Keila grabbed his hand and squeezed it, relieved.
“Well, about that,” he squeezed her hand back. “After the article came out, someone came forward saying they had other, er, interesting pictures. They sent me and other media outlets sample pictures today, probably hoping to get us to bid on the lot, and that’s when I decided to come here. Because I like you and I think you deserve fair warning.”
Pete reached into his coat and brought out a snazzy cell phone, and as he flipped through it, Keila braced herself for a clearer picture of them at the house or something equally damning. But when Pete finally showed her the image, there was absolutely no way to prepare for what confronted her. Her breath completely left her lungs.
It was a perfectly clear picture of Julia Hamilton and Jake, walking up the pier and toward the river, his hand behind her waist. He was smiling and gesturing with the other hand, the century-old house Keila had just gotten back from in the background. The next picture was one of him and another elegant looking woman walking out of the house.
She tried to catch a breath. He’d said he’d never brought another woman to that house. When she was finally able to breathe, she felt dizzy. He’d
lied
to her.
“Jake and Julia have been linked in the past. Some think she’s been waiting on the sidelines for him while he sows his wild oats, so to speak. I’m sorry, Keila, but I thought I should give you time to prepare. The pictures will be in the paper soon, adding credence to the whole … you know, to yesterday’s article.”
“You mean the ‘Jake Kelly is a lying, womanizing man-whore who shacks up with gullible, simple-minded women in his river love shack’ article?” she half-exhaled, half-spat out.
A few minutes later, feeling emotionally frazzled, Keila walked onto the bus and headed toward her first performance with Second City Symphony, trying hard to exchange one pure and elemental feeling for another.
Yes, she was deeply hurt, but her longest held dream was about to come true. Filtering her emotions wasn’t easy. Her feelings settled and each sentiment took a place in her heart.
Feeling jittery, Keila practiced breathing exercises on the darkened stage behind the curtains when Julia, of all people, came up to her. Wearing a reserved smile, she said, “I just wanted to wish you every success tonight, Keila.”
Keila responded with a sincere thank you, but was at a loss as to how to view Julia. Every time they’d spoken, the delicate, pretty young woman seemed reticent. But she now also viewed Julia in the context of Jake, and she couldn’t help but think that Julia seemed just the type to wait in the wings for him.
Thoughtful, her eyes followed Julia through a small opening where the scarlet velvet side curtains met. Keila absentmindedly watched as Julia’s parents hugged her. Then, her parents parted and Keila’s breath hitched. Jake was there, hugging Julia as well. Stormy thoughts took over and Keila tried to chase them away, but the questions refused to scatter. Jake knew Keila was part of Second City Symphony, so why would he attend a performance with Julia’s family? Could he be that insensitive?
Keila quickly closed her eyes and began to go through every breathing and relaxation exercise she’d ever learned. Grasping at something positive to think about, to take her mind off what could potentially ruin her performance, she focused on the one thing she knew would make her play her best despite all she was feeling; her father.
As she breathed, she let memories of him wash over her, knowing she could play powerfully by just imagining him there. She swallowed hard, knowing how proud he would be. When she opened her eyes, she pictured him sitting front and center, wearing his old, good suit and tie, smiling wide, more excited than she. Keila wiped at a tear with her sleeve, knowing he
was
with her, sharing in both her triumph and sorrow.
When she looked around again, the entire orchestra was seated. It was time.
As the curtains went up, a memory of her standing on her father’s feet as he taught her to dance came to her, and she smiled, remembering what unconditional love and trust felt like. When she began to play, in her mind, she and her father were waltzing in their kitchen to the orchestra’s music.
• • •
Jake watched from above as Keila played. Her hair swept back, he gazed at her downcast eyes and the soft set of her mouth, something like nostalgia surrounding her, as lost in the music as she ever was. He was beset by the need to pull her in close and tell her how talented she was, and, surprisingly, how proud he felt.
When they announced the intermission, she suddenly looked up at him directly, and her expression was so cold, so disapproving, that he felt all warmth within disappear. He’d never seen her look like that. She wasn’t happy to see him; that much was clear. They’d decided to stay away from each other, and, for the first time in his life, he’d been the weaker person.
Not about to take a hit from anyone, not even Keila, he looked back at her, his jaw set, his eyes just as cold.
• • •
The following morning, hell broke loose inside Jake’s campaign. Photos of him at his “secret vacation house” with both Julia and another attractive, older woman had surfaced that lent fire to reports that he owned a “love shack.”
When Keila’s name came up as a possible candidate for his mystery woman, Tania provided her sister with a solid alibi.
Cate, who’d been distant and strictly all-business with him, quickly got to work to get Julia and the other woman, an interior decorator who specialized in Victorian homes he’d once consulted, to issue statements denying intimate relationships. But the interior decorator could not be reached and even Cate seemed to doubt Jake’s story.
Throughout the day, thoughts of what Keila must be thinking tormented him, but he didn’t know how to reach out to her. The night before she’d looked at him as if his presence was unwelcome and that had been
before
today’s breaking news.
Now the fact that he’d been at the concert with Julia’s family only added fuel to past and present rumors of a relationship between him and Julia. Was that why Keila had been upset the night before? Did she know about the past rumors? Or was it because she suspected he’d gone to see her when they’d agreed not to see each other?
Everything was messed up. His feelings for Keila had gone from a fundamental lust any male could understand to something more like a primal ache.
All week long he’d found himself acting completely out of character. Instead of his usual, laser-like focus, he’d been staring off into space.
He convinced himself it was his consciousness telling him he had to set things straight. So at the end of the endless, exhausting week, Jake impulsively grabbed a phonebook and looked up the number of the only person who could help him decide what to do.
• • •
Keila’s life was a whirlwind of events. Between concerts scheduled at different venues and ensemble engagements, her life was a blur of trains, buses, performances, and rehearsals.
“Hey, how are you feeling about all the hoopla surrounding Jake Kelly?” Michelle gently greeted her one morning just before rehearsal.
Keila took a sip of coffee before answering. “I don’t care. I told you, it was only my body that was infatuated. Besides, who has time to think about stuff like that?” Keila twirled a hand around her head, brushing off the question, but she could see both Michelle and Simone, who was standing behind her, didn’t quite believe her.
She couldn’t blame them because she was half-lying and plain awful at it. For her, there was
always
time to feel. She was just busy enough to repress the feelings.
Keila took another sip of coffee and Simone awkwardly handed her that morning’s paper and pointed to a picture. She gawked at a tiny image of Mark, playing his saxophone on stage, staring up at her, the caption reading:
Keila Diaz’s Boyfriend Breaks His Silence.
Keila coughed up her coffee and quickly scanned over the so-called story. Mark had told a reporter that he and Keila had broken up over Jake shortly after
Chicago SummerDance
, that she had basically admitted to him that their break-up was because of her feelings for Jake, and that he was sure Keila was the mystery woman in the blurry Thanksgiving weekend photo.
Keila felt a rush of hot anger but it dispelled seconds later when she read that Mark had insisted the interview take place at the club where he played, and that it happen
after
he’d played his set. The reporter felt his so-called story seemed more like a publicity ploy than a real scoop. Keila sighed in relief, but felt a pinch of tension that her name was still out there.
However, she couldn’t care less what Mark thought. She’d actually run into Mark and Jessie in her neighborhood that very week, seeing as they were no longer in hiding, and it hadn’t bothered her one bit.
Mark and Jessie couldn’t touch her now that she knew how it felt to be lied to by someone she’d given so much of herself to. Now she knew what real heartache was.