Tristan Trilogy- Story 3

CHAPTER 61

"Tristan...it's important for me professionally to spend time in LA. You'll get used to it. Besides, it's not like we'll spend every day of our lives out there. The fact is that we need a place to live unless you want to stay in a hotel with the kids for weeks at a time. I don't think that would be good for anybody, would it?"

Tristan listened patiently to Kevin's persuasion, trying to be fair and unbiased. She felt like she was painted into a corner and before Kevin was finished with his rehearsed speech she would feel guilty and selfish, as well.

"You know that Backstreet had decided to try some other things next year. Brian wants to work with Harold, do some producing and maybe record some gospel. Howie has business opportunities he wants to explore and he's planning on doing a little performing on the side in some Spanish speaking countries. Nick wants to do some management stuff and maybe a little acting. He's even talked about doing some rock and roll front work. And you know AJ... His 'Johnny No-Name' personality has all kinds of gigs lined up. I want to do some things, too, Tristan. Backstreet has become confining. I want to take some acting classes and maybe try my hand at a little video production or directing. Why is that so hard for you to understand?"

"I understand, Kevin.." Tristan said quietly. "It's... it's just so far from home - and LA... The traffic, the smog, the earthquakes, the... the... weirdness... the..."

Kevin ran his fingers through his hair. He was growing impatient.

"Look, Tris.." he interrupted, "It just ain't happening for me here and it ain't gonna happen! I need to be around the movers and shakers! Make some contacts in the business. I have a few friends out there. You will, too!"

"You could sing, Kevin! The others are! You don't have to be in LA to write and record!"

For a split second, Kevin's face went from exasperated to stone-like. The shift was so complete that Tristan suspected she had hit a previously unexposed nerve. Kevin didn't speak for several seconds and when he finally did say something, his voice sounded flat and vacant.

"People don't care about hearing me sing, Tristan. I'm not that stupid."

Tristan was speechless. She knew that Kevin harbored insecurities but she had no idea that he felt inadequate as a performer.

"I don't understand how you can think that, Kevin - much less say it out loud! You're an equal part of that group! You're as important as.."

Suddenly Kevin's hands were in front of her face, signaling her to stop. He was dancing on the edge of anger as he halted her attempt to elevate him.

"Hush! Listen to me! I know I'm an equal part of the group - I've been doing this for eight years, remember? Long before I ever met you! I may be an equal part but that 'part' is not my voice, okay?. My role in Backstreet isn't based on singing. It's something else altogether!"

"Kevin..."

"ENOUGH!" Kevin's temper flared abruptly. "Let's stick to the subject at hand! Now are you gong to do the LA thing with me or not? This is business but I want my family with me!" He lowered his voice into a soft plea. "I need my family with me, Tris. I need you with me on this one, baby..."

By mid November, Tristan found herself setting up house in California.

*****

In spite of the fact that Tristan had been a part of Kevin's life for three Christmases, this was the first time she had ever spent the holiday in such a foreign climate and atmosphere. Ben and Mallory would be a year old in just a few short weeks. Ben was already stumbling around and Tristan suspected that Mallory, who seemed fascinated by Ben's newfound ability to mobilize himself unaided, would be letting go of table edges and chair arms any day now.

This would be the twin's first Christmas and while Tristan would have preferred they celebrate it back in Kentucky, she had decided to make an effort to be reasonable. She tried to like LA. There were parts of it she did like but overall, she felt like a 'stranger in a strange land'. Kevin's West Coast friends were hip - stylish, trend setting types who seemed to be consumed with being 'cool'. Parties were frequent occurrences and while she and Kevin were surrounded by people a lot of the time, the socializing only made her feel lonely. Kevin seemed to enjoy his new circle of friends but Tristan knew that she would never fit in. She didn't laugh loudly enough, she wasn't seductive, she wasn't flashy or flirty and she wasn't surgically enhanced. She wasn't phony or trying to impress and that, in itself, would keep her distanced from the others.

Occasionally she would meet someone with whom she shared common ground but she rarely saw them more than once and wondered if they had been banished from the clique because they didn't harmonize well with the crowd. Tristan had little doubt that she would have been ignored completely had it not been for the fact that she was Mrs. Kevin Richardson. Sometimes she found herself questioning why some of these people seemed so fond of Kevin. It made her feel bad to wonder about such a thing but Kevin's values and integrity were not shared by many of these people and Tristan couldn't fathom the connection. She didn't raise this issue with Kevin anymore. The first time she did was also the last. Kevin had gotten irritated with her saying, 'Jesus Christ, Tristan! We talk about videos and music and editing - those kinds of things! We're not debating affirmative action and abortion!'.

She didn't like to think it but Tristan felt that Kevin had formed a kind of parasitic relationship with some members of the 'Hollywood scene'. Their mutual association provided each with something they wanted. Kevin wanted professional respect and career contacts. They benefited from the whole BSB 'image', which made some of them appear more down to earth and acceptable to the masses. Tristan had been shown a copy of Seventeen Magazine in which someone had written a letter to the editor concerning a previously published article about Kid Rock.

'Obviously Kid Rock isn't the threat he has been made out to be. His general attitude and use of foul language is nothing more than a PR ploy to categorize him as a 'bad boy'. Shock makes for sales. You stated that he has a friendship with Kevin Richardson of the Backstreet Boys and we know that Mr. Richardson is a family man, southern gentleman and all around good guy. Kid wouldn't give Richardson the time of day if they didn't share similar values. I'm not crazy about his rampant use of vulgarity but it looks like it's just 'for show''...

Tristan re-read the letter several times. It made her uneasy. She didn't like to generalize but it seemed to her like Kevin was being used - almost as a sales gimmick.

*****

Tristan couldn't have been happier when Mason arrived on her doorstep. Kevin had given her the good news two days earlier and was both frustrated and relieved at her excitement. Jack would be spending some time at The Firm's headquarters and had scheduled some meetings with Kevin. Mason had come along.

He was a little surprised when he saw the house. It was beautiful - open and contemporary but it lacked the warmth of their Florida and Kentucky homes. There were no books lying about, no family pictures - not even a piano.

"We still have a lot to do," Tristan explained. "We'll get around to it..."

This shallow explanation didn't satisfy Mason. Tristan hadn't even bothered with a potted plant. It was mid-December and there was no indication that Christmas was at hand.

"So, where are you going to put the tree?"

"Tree?" For a moment, Tristan was baffled and then she smiled. "Oh - the Christmas tree..." She shrugged her shoulders and pointed in the general direction of the living room. "There, I guess..."

"You don't seem to excited," Mason frowned. "You're not getting depressed, are you?"

"No..."

Tristan's mouth might have said 'no' but her trembling chin screamed 'YES!!!'. When Mason gave her a hug, her defenses broke and she started bawling like a baby. Then Ben, the empathetic twin, joined in, hanging on to his mother's leg and wailing. Meanwhile, Mallory watched the trio for a moment. Soon, her little brow furrowed beneath her black bangs and she crawled over to Ben and tried slapping his tears away which only made him more vocal. This upset her greatly and she flopped down on her fanny, stretched her arms upwards and screamed to be comforted.

"Oh, for Christ's sake..." Mason muttered.

"We...we don't even have our ornaments here, Mason..." Tristan choked. "I s-saw people buying Christmas trees in..in shorts! It's t-too hot here for Christmas... I can't find any cedar or h-h-holly..."

"Okay, Tris. Here's what we're going to do..." Mason pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and began to wipe Tristan's runny nose. "You go get yourself cleaned up and I'll get the babies ready. We're going to go shopping. You can buy ornaments while I stuff their faces full of ice cream and cheese fries. Have they seen Santa yet?"

Tristan looked at Mason blankly. Santa Claus... She had never had the honor of sitting on Santa's lap but she remembered the pictures of the white bearded man in the fur trimmed suit. She knew who Santa was even though she had never been the recipient of his Christmas morning assurances.

"And these children need some stockings to hang by the...by the..." Mason looked around for a likely hanging spot. There was no fireplace. "...whatever..."

He was pleased to see Tristan's tears replaced by the slightest of smiles. Twenty minutes later they were out the door and on their way to Palm Vista Mall. If Mason had known that their shopping adventure was going to end up making headlines, he never would have suggested it.

*****

"We're in a meeting, Susan..." Jack sighed.

"I know, I know... I'm sorry." the secretary apologized. "But he said it was kind of an emergency..."

"Who?" Jack scowled. "Who is it and who did they want to speak to?"

"It's for you, sir. Line three.." Susan began to back carefully out of the office. "It's Mr. MacArthur..."

Kevin's alarm was immediate. He knew that Mason was supposed to visit Tristan today and began to panic.

"Is it Tris? Or one of the kids?"

Kevin had risen from his chair and was leaning across Jack's desk, stopping just short of grabbing the phone away from his manager. Jack batted Kevin's hand away and pointed back to the chair, silently ordering Kevin to sit while he listened to Mason whose muffled voice could be heard through the receiver. Kevin couldn't make out Mason's words but could tell that he was agitated. He watched as Jack winced and began rubbing his forehead.

"What?..... She did what?..... Oh that's great... Great..." There was a pause as Jack listened intently and he threw his head back and shut his eyes. "There's an LA Times reporter there?.... And the police?...." Again Jack listened as Mason shouted. Jack was making no comment but occasionally cast dubious glances Kevin's way. Several minutes passed before he spoke again. "Can we get to the security office relatively unseen?" He listened and nodded. "Okay, we're on our way..... Yes, I know. Is she alright?....Yeah, I'll bet." After a final pause, Jack's eyes locked on Kevin's. "Tell her it's too late. He's sitting right here..."

Jack hung up slowly and leaned back in his chair with a heavy sigh. He wasn't sure how to begin his explanation.

"Is it Tris?" Kevin muttered, knowing full well that it was before he asked.

"Yep..." Jack nodded.

"Is she alright?"

"Yep..."

"The kids?"

"Yep..."

"Well then, what the fuck is it, Jack?"

Jack shook his head before dropping it to his hands.

"Well, Kevin... It seems your wife may be facing charges of assault and battery..."

Kevin started laughing. "Shit, you scared me, man! Now tell me what's going on..." Kevin's laughter quickly faded when he realized that Jack wasn't even cracking a smile.

"It seems, Kevin, that sweet little Tristan has slapped the shit out of Santa Claus...."

*****

Mason was pushing the double stroller back and forth in front Crabtree & Evelyn when Jack and Kevin arrived. The security offices were just down a corridor beside the store. Thank God it was morning and the mall wasn't crawling with teenagers. Mason could feel him before he saw him. When he looked up, Kevin was lumbering towards him, hair falling out from under a watch cap, sunglasses covering a large portion of his face and a wearing a frown that could stop a clock. The portion of his face that wasn't covered by sunglasses and hair was decidedly rosy. Mason almost gulped.

Kevin didn't say anything at first. He didn't have to. Mason could hear him breathing as he bent down and picked Mallory up and out of the stroller. She looked at her father with a puzzled expression and then pressed her hand against the corner of his mouth, trying to push his frown into a smile.

"Where is she?" His murmured question carried with it a distinct edge.

Mason found himself feeling flustered and looked to Jack for help. His silent plea went unheeded. "Now, Kevin, don't go getting all pissy with her..."

"What the fuck happened?"

For an instant, the ridiculous idea came to Mason that Kevin would make a good ventriloquist. Mason could hear his words but his mouth didn't seem to be moving. Must be those clenched teeth...

"Uhh...I'm not sure exactly. She's right down there..."

Mason barely had time to point before Kevin handed Mallory to him and stormed off down the hall with Jack scurrying along behind.

CHAPTER 62

The shopping trip had stared off pleasantly enough. True to his word, Mason had taken off with the twins after depositing Tristan in front of a seasonal shop that specialized in holiday decorating. The mall was uncrowded, despite the fact that it was close to Christmas and Mason hoped that being in a 'Christmasy' atmosphere would inject Tristan with some holiday enthusiasm.

Although she wanted to be in Kentucky and would forever associate their lakeside home with 'real' Christmas, Tristan fought to overcome her disappointment about spending the holiday in LA. By the time she had purchased several dozen ornaments, lights and even a small ceramic village to replace the train under the tree, she was feeling much better. The store had agreed to deliver her purchases, for a fee, and so she set off in search of Mason and the twins. It was time to visit Santa Claus. It would be Tristan's first visit, too, and she found herself childishly excited at the prospect. She stopped to ask a store employee where Santa could be found as was directed to a nearby elevator.

"He's on the first level," the young woman said. "You can see Santa Land down below when you look over the railing."

Tristan walked to the designated spot and peered over the railing to the first level of the mall. It took her a few minutes to take in the view and she didn't like what she saw. A large painted sign proclaimed the area as Santa Land but this was no North Pole scene. Tristan began to feel an unexpected fury. The scene below reminded her more of 'Beach Blanket Bingo' than the traditional Christmas fare she was expecting to see. The area had been decorated with palm trees strung with lights. Even the lights were 'wrong' and were shaped like chili peppers and flowers. Instead of 'Santa's Workshop' designers had placed giant sandcastles nearby. Stuffed reindeer wore huge sunglasses and sand was scattered on the floor. In the middle of the display sat a gigantic clamshell which contained a big chair and seated on the chair was a robust man with white hair and a white beard. He was wearing sunglasses, too, and a headband. The man was dressed in sandals, shorts and a Hawaiian shirt. Tristan frowned. Who the hell is that?...

Her question was soon to be answered. As she stood above, studying this unfolding surrealistic drama, two blond women - tanned, buxom and wearing spandex - escorted a little boy down the sandy path where he paused and climbed onto the bearded man's lap. Noooooo... Tristan's mind began to swirl and then she exploded. Within one minute she was steaming towards Santa Land - a woman with a mission - determined to rid the mall of this Santa poser and restore her vision of Christmas to the masses. She kept her senses long enough to wait until no children were present. It was probably a good thing that she hadn't noticed Santa handing out packages of California raisins to the children instead of candy canes. Tristan pushed past the double-D 'elves' and marched straight towards 'the man'.

"Who in the hell are you supposed to be?" she shouted, not bothering with any formality whatsoever.

Her attacking tone immediately put 'Santa' on the defense. "Well, who in the hell do you want me to be, baby? Did you come up here to sit in my lap?"

Smart ass... "I wanted to see Santa Claus.."

"You're seein' him..." the man replied.

"You're not Santa Claus!" Tristan hissed. "You're more like Santana Claus! Where's your red suit?"

"I loaned it to the damn Tooth Fairy, lady! What's your problem?"

"Santa Claus lives at the North Pole, not Muscle Beach! He doesn't sit in a clam shell. There's snow where he lives - not sand. His reindeer don't need sunglasses and his elves don't need bras! I expect my children to sit on Santa's lap - not Moon Doggy's! You're an imposter and should be ashamed deceiving children this way!"

Neither realized that they had raised their voices. Soon, a tiny audience had formed. The 'elves' looked at each other nervously.

"Lady, are you crazy or something? I'm friggin' Santa Claus and if you want to see the fat man in the red suit, I suggest you take your cute little ass back to hillbilly land, from whence you undoubtedly came, and start humping HIM for a Christmas present!"

"What did you say to me - you...you... Santa wannabee?"

The man rolled his eyes, shook his head and glared back at Tristan.

"Ooooh - ouch!" he spat sarcastically. "Look, honey. Why don't you just be a good little girl and go on back to Never Never Land? Here, Santa will even give you a box of raisins..."

"Raisins!" Tristan exasperation grew tenfold. "Where in the hell are your candy canes?"

Santa had lost patience with this petite blond troublemaker. "Up my ass!" he shouted. "You wanna take a look?"

In the background, a child's voice..."Mama - Santa said a bad word!"

"You take a look at this, you jerk!" Tristan gave the man about five seconds to see her raised hand before she started pummeling him with it.

Another voice - this one in tears. "Daddy, the lady is hitting Santa Claus!"

The next few minutes were a blur. Tristan was aware of uniforms and hands pulling her away from 'Santa'. He also had people on either side of him, pulling as well. As she and the bearded man were escorted up to the security office, she managed to catch a glimpse of Mason leaning on the stroller, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. Now here she sat, listening to Kevin's voice in the outer office telling a reporter that he had 'no comment' and telling Jack something about 'taking care of Santa'.

Seconds later, a forceful rap on the door, and in he came. She was looking at his boots, unable to meet his eyes at first.

"Tristan.."

He spoke her name in even, staccato syllables with no inflection. He was pissed. She looked to her left, summoning up the courage to stand her ground and then faced him defiantly.

"What?"

"What happened here?..."

Again, his tone was flat and edged with anger.

"That man was not Santa Claus. He's a liar and this mall is lying by advertising the fact that Santa is here when he obviously is not!"

The security officer behind the desk rolled his eyes and spoke to Kevin from the side of his mouth.

"She does realize that Santa Claus isn't real, doesn't she?"

Tristan heard the remark and jumped to her feet.

"That beach bum is parading himself as Santa Claus!" She finally looked at Kevin. He looked very grim and his mouth was drawn into a tight line. Her defiance became a plea for understanding. "Now, Kevin... You grew up in Kentucky and you know that Santa Claus isn't supposed to look like that. I don't want our children to picture that when they think about Christmas and Santa. It just isn't right and you know it! Every picture I ever saw, every poem I ever heard never talked about him looking like that! Even though I never saw him in person before, I know that that beach stuff isn't right and you know it, too, don't you Kevin? Don't you?"

Kevin's refusal to answer caused Tristan to flop back down into her chair. It was difficult to maintain control of her emotions. Even she couldn't explain why this whole episode had triggered such a wave of anger. She managed to keep her tears in her eyes but Kevin's lack of support had hurt her. She stared at her lap as Kevin spoke to the security officer.

"Can we leave?"

"I have to see if Mr. Wright is going to press any charges..."

"He's not." Kevin answered. "He will be signing a release..."

The officer handed Kevin a transcript of Tristan's statement.

"You might need this sometime..." He glanced towards the door. "...in case there are any misquotes or anything. Sorry about the reporter. That was bad luck..."

Tristan wiped away an errant tear that had threatened to spill. Reporter. Great. As if things aren't bad enough?

"Come on, Tristan."

She stood to leave, still not making eye contact with either Kevin or the officer. As they headed out, the officer issued one final statement.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Richardson, but we cannot allow you to enter this mall again for a period of one year..."

*****

Jack and Mason were waiting for them at the end of the corridor. The silence was stifling and Mason couldn't stand it. No one spoke a word. He was still pushing the stroller and trying to lighten the dark mood.

"You know, this seems bad but it really is kind of funny. You'll laugh at this one of these days and think of what a great story it'll be to tell Ben and Mallory! You know - the old song? 'I Saw Mommy Beating Santa Claus' Ha, ha!"

If looks could kill, Mason would have surely been on his way to the morgue.

The ride back to the house was tortuous for Tristan. Mason has taken the twins since the car seats were in his rental. She had opened the door to ride with Mason, but Kevin had killed that idea. Mason and the twins would go in his car. She and Kevin would ride with Jack.

They sat in the back seat while Jack drove and Kevin stared at Tristan from behind his dark glasses. Tristan chose to stare out of the window. Kevin was angry but as he watched her, his anger reshaped itself. She was doing it to him again - creating in him emotions that just didn't 'go together'. He was pissed but also a little sad and sympathetic. He was even feeling a small touch of amusement.

These headlines should be great... I'll be answering questions about this shit for the rest of my life. What the fuck was she thinking? Kevin then realized that Tristan had been thinking about a lot of things. She had been remembering her missed Christmases and comparing them to the Kentucky Christmas they'd shared last year. That had been her first real Christmas and she had savored it and clutched onto the memory of it with a fierceness that he had underestimated. He had heard her say a hundred times that it had been 'perfect' and that she couldn't wait for their children to have those kinds of memories.

Santa Claus in shorts wasn't the real problem. The problem was California. They had no family or close friends here. That wasn't good, but what Tristan lacked here most of all was a sense of history, however brief. Her heart was screaming out for 'tradition' but their life was untraditional in almost every way. Last year's Christmas had become Tristan's anchor - her foothold on a new beginning. A beginning that would include things that she had heard about and seen as a child but had never experienced, herself. Things like Christmas lights and trains, candy canes and fireplaces, cedar trees and sweaters... Her attack on Mr. Wright had been almost a protective reaction as she sought to safeguard her memories.

She didn't move when the car came to a stop. Mason had arrived first and had already unloaded the children. When Kevin opened her door, she whispered three words to him.

"I'm not crazy..."

His response was equally simple.

"I know that, Tris."

*****

Five days later - one week before Christmas - Kevin handed Tristan an envelope.

"What's this?"

"Early Christmas present..." Kevin shrugged.

Tristan grinned and tore open the envelope. When she looked inside, she discovered that Kevin had bought four first class plane tickets to Lexington. They would be leaving the next day to celebrate their second Christmas at home in Kentucky.

Tristan could barely stand to look at him for fear that he might see how desperate she had been for this and how touched she was that he could still see into her heart so well. When she finally raised her eyes, he stood grinning at her and holding out a large candy cane.

"Merry Christmas, baby..."

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