Tristan Trilogy- Story 3

CHAPTER 22

Kevin’s eyes fixed themselves on the light switch by the door. He didn’t speak.

“Hello? Anybody there?” Jerald called into the receiver.

Tristan’s voice rang in his ear. It sounded distant. He heard her ask his brother who was calling.

“I guess it’s no one.” Jerald answered and hung up the phone. Click.

No one. Kevin turned off his cell and left his room. He was going to the outskirts of the city. It was almost midnight, but that was still early for the party crowd and Kevin had suddenly developed an intense urge to party. He didn’t invite anyone to go with him or even tell anyone where he was going. When Howie expressed an interest in tagging along, Kevin cut him off. He wanted to go alone.

Brian caught up with him in the driveway. He had seen the magazine. By now, they all had.

“Hey, Kev! Where are you off to, man? It’s kinda late…” Brian was uneasy with Kevin’s demeanor. It was familiar and dark. When Kevin didn’t answer, Brian tried another angle. “Shit, man.. Leigh’s really pissed off with me about those snaps in the magazine! I’m trying to push it off on Howie!” he laughed. “What about you? You call Tris? Was she mad when she answered the phone?”

Kevin stopped walking and gazed at his cousin evenly.

“Tristan didn’t answer the phone.”

“Oh..” Brian nodded and crossed his arms, a little relieved. “She’s not home?”

“She’s home.” Kevin corrected. “So is Jerald. He answered the phone.”

Brian wasn’t sure what to say. He feared that beneath Kevin’s even flatness lay some unthinkable conclusions. He decided to play it cool. He didn’t want Kevin to think that the idea had crossed his mind as well.

“That’s nice. So how is Jerald?” Brian deliberately avoided asking why Jerald was in Orlando, but his inquiry still made Kevin impatient.

“I didn’t talk to him.” Kevin responded cryptically. “Look, Brian, I gotta go…”

“Where, Kev?”

Brian knew where. He felt it. Kevin was going to find the local ‘candy man’. He didn’t like it. He had been sharing his blow with Kevin and had been happy to do it. Although it had only happened a few times, it had provided a connection between the two of them that had been missing for too long. It was a lousy basis for camaraderie but Brian rationalized by comparing it to guys who had ‘drinking buddies’. He and Kevin had sort of become occasional ‘coke buddies’ - the two who would probably be voted ‘most unlikely’… Brian didn’t like the idea of Kevin shopping for his own supply.

“Let’s go out back, Kev… You seem a little wound up. I got some blow, and..”

“No Brian. Not right now. Besides, the next round’s on me.”

Brian stood in the driveway with his hands in his pockets, watching the taillights move out onto the main road. Then he shrugged and went back inside. He’s okay….

************

“No one answered?” Tristan wiped her hands on a dishtowel and cocked her heard towards Jerald who was leaning over the counter and playing with the tuner on the radio. He looked up at her and shook his head. “Why don’t you hit *69? Maybe I’ll recognize the number…”

“Okay. Let me find a station first.”

Jerald couldn’t have cared less who had called. All he knew at that moment was that he liked being in this kitchen. He felt completely comfortable here. He turned and watched Tristan for a moment as she peeled potatoes over the sink. He and his mother had argued before he came down here. He had been planning to come next week when Kevin was supposed to be back home. Although Jerald still did some modeling, he had become interested in the business end of the industry and had been invited to interview at a local agency that was looking for someone with management potential. Jerald smiled to himself. He could stand working around beautiful women all day. Ann had been planning to come with him. She hadn’t seen Kevin since he found out that Tristan was pregnant.

Pregnant…. Jerald shook his head. Tris had sounded almost forlorn when he and Ann had spoken to her a few days ago. They both knew that she had wanted to make the trip to Sweden. She had been doing pretty well but when Kevin had called her to say that they might have to spend a few extra days there, she had become upset. By chance, Ann had phoned her on the heels of that call and could read Tristan’s state of mind. Jerald had seen the concern in his mother’s face as she spoke to Tristan and after a few minutes, he got on the phone with her. He joked and told her some funny stories about himself, his brothers and their childhood and by the time he had hung up, Tristan had brightened considerably. That’s when he had decided to go down a little early. Ann had wanted him to wait until she could go with him but Jerald argued that Tristan was all alone and that he thought it would be nice if she had a friend around. Besides, she had a recital coming up and he thought she could use some support. After all, she hadn’t played in months. The mother and son had had words but when it was all over, Jerald had stood firm and had almost convinced Ann that this was the right thing to do.

Jerald had finally admitted to himself that he had a small attraction to Tristan - maybe even a little high school type crush. But he hadn’t seen her in a couple of months and now she was pregnant - with twins, no less! She should be about four months along by now. Probably looks like the Titanic… His expectations had been shattered when he saw her and now, watching her at the sink, all he could think of is what a lucky son of a bitch his brother was. Her hair was in a French braid and fell halfway down her back. Loose wisps of blond hair hung around her face. She made no attempt to look beautiful, but then, she never had. She hadn’t bothered with make-up, not that she needed to. Jerald had spotted a tiny sprinkling of freckles across her nose. She wore a short, loose shift that didn’t hide her now obvious belly. She was barefoot. Barefoot, pregnant, peeling potatoes…. and oozing sensuality.

“Did you get the number, Jerald?” Tristan asked absently as she dropped a potato into the colander.

Jerald’s eyes came back into focus when he realized that he was being spoken to.

“Wh...What?”

Tristan started laughing and he felt himself blush. “God almighty! I’m glad I can’t read your mind!” she smirked. “Did you get the number?”

“Uh.. no. They didn’t catch it.” I’m glad you can’t read my mind, either, Tris…

“Probably a wrong number or they would have called back..”

“Yeah. I guess...”

*******************

Charlie Mancuso was pissed. Richardson had sped off after midnight in the courtesy car and Charlie had no way to follow him. Martina had been upstairs, checking the linen closet before she retired for the night when she had seen Kevin come up the stairs and march into his room with a blank look on his face. Soon after she had heard a crash and the sound of breaking glass. He had left after that and Martina had peeked into his room. She found the remains of the smashed glass and could tell that it had been thrown and not dropped.

Now they both sat in the servant's quarters and waited for his return. It was after three when they heard a car stop outside and the front door open. After a few minutes they heard the pocket doors off the stone terrace slide open. Charlie and Martina scurried into one of the two bedrooms in the flat and peeped cautiously out of the window. The room was dark and so was the terrace. The only light shone through the glass on the pocket door. Kevin had taken a seat at a small tiled table and he held the cordless phone from the kitchen up to his ear. A shot glass and a bottle sat in front of him. His facial expression wasn’t clear but his body language showed signs of agitation. It was too dark for pictures and there was nothing interesting to shoot anyway - just the profile of a man on the phone. Kevin ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it back off of his face. It had grown considerably longer since the Bahama shots were taken.

“Can’t you listen in on an extension or something?” Charlie whispered. He had a feeling that this conversation was going to be good.

Martina looked at him like he was nuts. “Sure - that’s just what I need - to be caught listening in on a private conversation! Jesus…”

They opted, instead, to raise the window slightly and listen to one side of the discussion. Kevin was probably no farther than ten feet away. They watched him pour a shot, swallow it and then pour another.

“Hey, baby…. Yeah, it’s late here but I wanted to hear how things were going. What‘cha doing?….. Really? That doesn’t sound like your kind of movie… You making out alright? Guess it’s pretty quiet there with no one around… Good…”

Martina and Charlie could see that Kevin seemed to be getting more tense even though his voice remain fairly even. They didn’t understand what was happening. Kevin took another shot and the idle chit-chat continued for another five minutes or so. He seemed to be worried about her being by herself and asked repeatedly about his family and whether or not she’d spoken to them. His breathing seemed to become more ragged as the seconds ticked by. Kevin seemed to be listening intently when, finally, there was a break in the mystery. Kevin suddenly became angry and slammed his shot glass down on the table.

“God dammit, Tristan!” he shouted angrily into the phone. “You think I don’t fucking know that he’s there? When the hell were you planning to tell me? Or maybe you weren’t going to tell me! Were you Tristan? Were you going to tell me that my big brother is in my house taking care of my wife?”

Holy shit! Martina and Charlie looked at each other in amazement, not believing their good luck. Charlie gave Martina a ‘thumbs up’ sign. After a slight pause, Kevin continued his rant.

“No, no, no! I’m not mad, Tris! I really appreciate the fact that he’s so fucking considerate! I mean, damn! He took care of you while I was finishing up the last tour, he certainly kept his eye on you while we were recording in the Bahamas and now - well, Christ! How God damn lucky can I be? Here I am, an ocean away, and Jerald is riding to the fucking rescue again!...”

Kevin was listening again. His elbow was on the table and he rested his head in his hand. Then his head shot up and he started yelling into the phone.

“Really, Tristan? Well, I saw some interesting pictures today! They were of my wife and my brother in Mexico!....….. Our old friends at ‘Reputations’!.…… I don’t know why....No!... Where is my dear brother now, Tristan?..... Really ?….. Eating his dinner... dinner that you cooked for him, no doubt. He’s probably sitting in my fucking chair, isn't he?.... I’ll tell you one damn thing, Tris! Dinner better be all the fuck he’s eating!..... Tristan?... TRISTAN!…… God damn it!”

She had decided to end the conversation. Kevin stared at the receiver for a moment and then threw it across the yard into the darkness before swallowing another shot.

Charlie gently lowered the bedroom window before he and Martina made their way back into the living room. He grabbed the phone book and began flipping through the Swedish equivilent of the Yellow Pages.

“What are you doing?” Martina asked. If Charlie had a plan, she wanted in on it.

“You think you can handle things around here by yourself for a couple of days? Three tops?” He began to scribble a number down on the pad beside the phone.

“ I think I might be able to manage..” Martina said dryly. “Where are you off to? What about pics?”

“Weren’t you listening?” He answered impatiently. “Jerald’s with Tristan right now - alone! I have to get back stateside and check this out. I doubt anything will happen at the villa, anyway.” Charlie called the airport and was put on hold. He took this time to reconsider. “Listen, Martina. If you hear about any of the guys going out - you know, anything that sounds like it could produce some interesting shots like clubbing or partying, you call this number and speak to Erik. Tell him that Charlie needs some film and tell him where to go. I’ll call him when I get back. You just keep your eyes and ears open.”

Martina rolled her eyes at his arrogance. “I am a pro, Charlie. I know how to do my job. If anything’s happening here, I’ll know about it. Don’t you worry....”

“I’m not worried, doll..” Charlie laughed. Then he spoke into the phone. “Yes...yes. That’s great. Do you have anything going to Miami? You do? What time?” He turned to Martina and smiled. “Book me, please. Yes. I’ll be charging the ticket when I get to the airport. What time was that? Great. Thank you...”

It was 3:45 now and Charlie had booked a flight to Miami that was leaving at 8:00. It would be about noon, EST, when he arrived. Then he would catch a shuttle to Orlando. Hopefully, he would be parked in front of Kevin Richardson’s house by 4:00. He opened up a case of film and threw a dozen rolls into his bag before he packed a few clothes. When the cab came for him at 7:00, the sun had come up and he was outside waiting at the end of the driveway, beside the gate.

Kevin was outside, too. Of course he had never made it back inside. His head lay in the crook of his right arm and his left hand still held an empty shot glass. He had passed out cold.

********************

Tristan stared at the phone in disbelief, not realizing that Jerald was now standing behind her. He hadn’t been trying to eavesdrop but he couldn’t avoid it. Tristan had been upset. He could tell by her side of the conversation that Kevin had given her holy hell about some damn thing. Asshole...

“Tris, honey, are you okay?”

He didn’t want to butt in but he was concerned. Tristan was gripping the edge of the counter top as if she were trying to hold herself up. She turned and made a failed attempt at a smile. It was pitiful.

“Yeah...okay.. I mean, I’m all right. Thanks..”

“What about Kevin?”

Tristan glanced at the phone as if Kevin might materialize from the receiver.

“I don’t know. I think he was....that he’d had a few drinks. I don’t know. He wasn’t making much sense.”

She took a few hesitant steps towards the bowl beside the sink and scooped out her keys. Then she stopped. The Orlando newsstands wouldn’t have gotten the latest issue of ‘Reputations’ yet. It was Sunday night. Sweden was several hours ahead of Florida time wise. She would have to wait until tomorrow to see what had made Kevin so angry and cruel.

*******************

“You’d better go upstairs and get Kevin.”

Holly was spreading some jelly on a muffin when she glanced at the clock and noticed the time. The group was supposed to be at the studio in an hour. Brian, Leighanne, Howie and AJ had gone out for breakfast this morning and Amanda was still asleep. Mason and Jack had left early, having made plans to try some fishing in the Baltic. Mason hadn’t looked too thrilled.

Nick checked his watch. “Let me call the studio first and make sure I left those lyric changes there. I can’t find them anywhere..”

Nick shoved his chair back and went to the counter where he discovered that the phone was missing.

“Do you see the phone laying around someplace, Holly?” He was looking behind the toaster and coffee maker but couldn’t find it.

“Hit the search button,” Holly said absently, licking a spot of jelly off of her finger. “AJ probably left it laying around somewhere.

Nick followed Holly’s suggestion but nothing seemed to happen. The phone wasn’t in the immediate vicinity. Frustrated, Nick began a more thorough search. When he passed the French door that opened onto the terrace, he froze.

“Shit..”

“What’s the matter, babe? Can’t find it?” Holly called from the table.

“Holly! Look at this!”

Holly got up quickly, noting the tone of Nick’s directive. When she came up beside him, she followed his line of vision out to the stone terrace. Kevin was lying across the small table, holding an empty shot glass. A small object lying in the grass beside a plot of roses caught his eye. It was the missing phone.

“Fuck… he’s passed out!” Nick groaned. What the hell could have happened? He’s still wearing the same clothes he had on yesterday!” He tried to stop himself from drawing unpleasant conclusions. Kevin had been out all night and he had been away from Tristan for over three weeks. Then there was the magazine spread… Shit…

Holly retrieved the phone while Nick struggled to get Kevin conscious enough to stumble back into the house, where he sat him down again and began pouring coffee.

“Leave me the fuck alone, Nick…” Kevin mumbled. “I’m going to bed..”

“We’ve got to be at the studio in less than an hour, Kevin! I’m not gonna let you screw this album up - we’ve all worked too damn hard and that includes you!” Nick began to peel Kevin’s jacket off of his back. He’d thrown him in the shower before and he’d do it again if he had to. “What the hell happened to you last night, anyway!”

Kevin managed to raise his head long enough to give Nick a warning look. “That’s done of your damn business, Nick. Now leave me alone!”

But Nick wasn’t going to leave Kevin alone. Holly stood by not knowing whether to go or stay. Nick might need some help…

“That’s where you’re wrong, bro! It is my damn business!” Nick was becoming angry but his anger was only masking a fear for the welfare of his friend. It just about killed him to see Kevin this way. “Now what the hell happened? Did you talk to Tris last night? Were you with another woman? Is that what happened, Kevin? You get drunk and then go off and screw some groupie?”

Holly moved over to the refrigerator. Kevin was fully alert now and his eyes were on fire. Shut up, Nick…shut up…shut up…

Kevin stood, took a step forward and got in Nick’s face. His voice was low and icy. “What if I did, Nick? Huh? You gonna let me have it again? Huh? You gonna defend Tristan’s honor again? Let me tell you somethin’ Nick… You don’t have to worry yourself about lookin’ out for Tris ‘cause my brother is already doin’ that! He’s with her right now! He’s in my house, right now and she’s cookin’ for him and they’re sittin’ back watchin’ movies and havin’ a fine old time!”

Nick took a step backwards and swallowed. Kevin was seething.

“Did you see the pictures, Nick? The ones in the magazine?…”

“There were shitty pictures of all of us, Kevin…” Nick murnured, afraid to raise his voice. “I saw the shots of us at the strip club and of all the girls talking to men. You know that rag insinuates stuff that ain’t true, man… They want to cause a stink…”

“There’s a difference, though, Nick.” Kevin whispered. “We know that those guys in the Mexico were strangers that the girls had never seen before and will never see them again. Let’s lay it out here, buddy… My brother has a hard-on for my wife. We got ourselves a real-life soap opera goin’ on here. Our little Tristan thought I was crazy when I called her last night but we all know how fuckin’ naïve she can be.” Kevin glanced towards the refrigerator. “Isn’t that right, Holly?”

Nick spun around towards his fiancee. Holly was chewing her lip and she’d cast her eyes down to the floor. Kevin started laughing. Nothing was funny.

“See, Nicky? Ask Holly what she thinks about my big brother…” Kevin straightened, picked up his jacket from the back of the chair and headed for the stairs.

Nick wasn’t ready to leave things like this and yelled after Kevin. “What about Tris, Kev? You think she wants Jerald? You’re full of shit, man! Tris wanted to be here with you - you know that!”

Kevin paused on the stairs, considered Nick’s comment and then smiled sadly. “But she’s not. And that, my friend, is the story of our lives…”

“Did you fuck around on her last night, Kevin?”

Kevin gave Nick a baleful stare and then continued up the stairs without comment.

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