Page 37 of Still Her
After he leaves, my wife and I lay down on the bed with the dogs and try to find something stupid on TV. She needs to laugh and we both need to let our minds zone out. Besides, not much else we can do with the gag order Ron slapped on me. After finishing some burgers from room service, we find some ridiculous movie about highway patrolmen. We stare blankly at the screen, so much weighing heavily on or minds, but after a while, Mayzie lets a giggle escape. Soon after, I let out a chuckle. Little by little, the tension eases from us with a laugh here, and a head shake there. I put an arm behind my head and start to relax, lacing the fingers of my other hand with hers.
Eventually, Maze dozes off and I follow pretty quickly behind her, our hands still entwined, our spirits and unity intact.
* * *
MAYZIE
Deep in another realm, past many layers of fog, I see a montage of images. Jack and the rest of the guys passing a document around a dark wood table as each of them take turns signing it. The looks on each of their faces is defeated and crestfallen. Eli sits at the head of the table, reclined back with his feet up, one arm around Cyndi the flight attendant, who stands beside him with her hand resting on his shoulder while she twirls her hair with the other. Eli chuckles, and jabs, “thanks for emptying your wallets, boys. I appreciate it. Although it was the least you could do…” I feel a blackness start to creep over my heart as the edges of the scene begin to blur and shift. It fades away and another blurry image comes into focus; a ‘For Sale’ sign being pounded into a yard;our yard.“It’s okay, baby,” I hear Jack’s voice and feel his arms come around me from behind. “It’s all worth it to keep you from having to face him, even if it is just one time. I’ll hand it all over just so that you don’t have to be scared; so that you don’t have to be brave, even one time.”
I jerk awake, with a cold ache in my chest and air being sucked into my lungs in a gasp. I hold my breath as I familiarize myself with actual reality. It’s dark, I’m warm, I’m still pressed against Jack, who’s breathing is coming in slow and deep, unlike mine once I manage to resume it.I’m awake. I’m here. It was a dream, I mentally sooth myself. I fix my eyes on Jack’s form, barely visible in the darkness, and calm slowly starts to take the place of fear. Even in sleep, he seems to be my lighthouse, guiding me out of the storm and back into the safe harbor, and eventually, my eyes allow themselves to close again.
18
Mayzie
Jack’s voicerecovered enough to sing the show the following night, though he was still careful to rest his vocals between the next couple of appearances as we made our way up the coast to D.C., over to Pittsburgh and then back over to Philadelphia, our last stop before a four day break for Thanksgiving.
We let ourselves into Sarah and Mike’s home early afternoon on Turkey Day, and are greeted by some amazing smells. Since we literally got off of a charter jet an hour ago, we didn’t bring jack shit other than a bottle of wine. We didn’t dress up either. Jack’s in cargos with a thermal shirt that hugs his chest and shoulders nicely, and I didn’t have it in me to wear anything nicer than leggings and a comfy sweater. I’m going to totally hear it from my mother, but oh well. At least my hair is brushed. Chatter can be heard from both the main living room and the kitchen beyond.
We make our first stop in the living room where we find Mike, Jack’s dad Bill, my dad, and my brother lounging on the plushy furniture, hollering at the game. Our home team always plays Thanksgiving so they are especially invested. Ian is the first to notice us and a smirk appears on his face.
“Well, look who’s come to slum it with us nobodies!”
“Shut up Ian,” I roll my eyes at my brother. The other three heads swivel in the direction of Jack and me, and they all get to their feet to greet us. After I get the life squeezed out of me by some manly bear-hugs, including one from my brother, I head in the direction of the kitchen, leaving Jack to bullshit with the men.
I find Sarah and my mother bustling around the spacious kitchen. It’s been almost seven weeks since I left for the tour, and Sarah is looking quite round now. Poor thing, hosting Thanksgiving while carrying twins. My mom isn’t batting an eye while she scurries around, totally in her element.
“Hellooo...” I call, to get their attention. They both pause and look up at the same time, excited smiles on their faces.
My mom prances over first, wiping her hands on her apron. “Ooh, my baby girl!” she exclaims hugging me tightly, and I hug back. After a moment she leans back to look me up and down. “It’s a family holiday, would some nice slacks have killed you?"
"Yes." I return a little petulantly. "You try staying up past midnight and hopping a plane at the ass crack to get here before turkey carving.”
“Grumpy, aren’t we?” Mom muses as she releases me and goes back to mashing potatoes.
“Yeah Mayzie, that’s my job right now,” says Sarah, looking extremely uncomfortable with her current shape but so incredibly cute at the same time, in black skinny jeans and a fitted red top that shows off her bump. She sets down a pumpkin pie to cool and comes over to me, pulling her mitts off. “Are you okay?” she asks quietly in my ear as she greets me with a hug.
“Fine,” I answer just as softly.
“Talk later,” she murmurs before releasing me.
No way in hell does anyone besides Mike and Sarah know about Eli, otherwise today would be chaos. Speaking of Superdouche, fortunately, we haven’t heard from him since his creepy phone call. While it’s nice not having to deal with it, we know he’s just biding his time while he presumes I’m thinking things over. We’re no closer to a decision than we were on that day, pretty much because there is no good one. Deciding today should not only be a mini vacay from the tour, but also from that tool box, I decide to distract myself with some busy work. While cooking isn’t really my thing, I throw on an apron and offer to help, seeing as how Sarah and Mom appear to be doing everything on their own. At the very least, I can pretend to stir gravy.
We make mindless small talk for about ten minutes or so before Jack walks in, heading towards his sister.
“About time you came in to say ‘hi’ to me, dumbass!” She greets Jack with open arms and they give each other a hug before pulling away and she gives his hair a quick mussing. “You look exhausted,” she observes, shaking her head.
“Yeah well, it’s been a hell of a tour so far,” he counters, casting his eyes at me so we can share a knowing look. Sarah quietly nods as Jack looks down at her growing belly. “You look…”
“Choose your next words carefully!” She warns, holding her finger up at him.
“What? You look great,” he placates with a sincerely warm smile that melts her protective walls. Pacified, she turns to check on the turkey while Jack makes his way over to my mom.
“Hey Ma,” he greets her with a hug and a kiss on the cheek that she gleefully returns. After fussing over him for a minute, she excuses herself to go check on the game.
“Send Mike in, would you?” Sarah calls after her as she starts pulling cans out of cupboards. Only seconds pass before Mike strolls into the room, looking much morehimin pressed jeans and a pullover. He heads straight over to stand behind Sarah, running his hands up and down her arms while she throws together a green-bean casserole.
“How are you two holding up?” he asks, looking between Jack and me. “Have you heard anything more…?”