Circling

Tristan Trilogy- Story 3

CHAPTER 7

She could hear Tristan sobbing from behind the closed door of Kevin's office. Shit. She's read it. Amanda closed her eyes, not knowing what to do. She was about to go to Tristan when the responsibility was suddenly taken away from her. She heard a key enter the lock on the front door. Kevin entered the foyer carrying a hand full of mail and some sheets of music. He seemed relaxed and unbothered. Amanda just stared at him from the step that led to the sunken living room. Tristan was quiet now. The sobbing had ceased.

"Hey, Amanda…" Kevin said casually as he glanced through the mail. "Tris isn't still asleep, is she?"

Amanda's silence caused Kevin to stop and look towards the brunette who stood across the foyer, regarding him with a mixture of bewilderment and disbelief. She said nothing.

"Amanda?" Kevin frowned. "Is everything all right?" Kevin threw his papers on the console table and began taking long, deliberate strides to the living room, searching for Tristan. The strange look on Amanda's face worried him. "Where is she?"

"Yo..your office…" Amanda said slowly. She was gazing at Kevin as if she was trying to figure out who he was.

"Oh, Christ. The internet…" he murmured as he turned to go down the short hallway.

"No…I don't think so…" she whispered to his back.

Kevin hadn't taken three steps before they heard the crash and the sound of breaking glass from behind the office door. They both jumped at looked at each other for a split second before Kevin hurried to his office and turned the knob to enter. The door was locked. He envisioned Tristan passed out on the floor and started pounding on it with the palm of his hand, yelling for her to answer him.

"TRISTAN! Open the door, baby! Please! Are you all right?….TRISTAN!"

After a few seconds, Tristan answered. Her tone seemed eerily calm compared to Kevin's shouted pleas. She spoke more slowly than usual and more softly. Kevin had to press his ear against the door to hear her.

"I'm fine. I just broke something. I have to pick it up… Just a minute…"

Kevin's eyes found Amanda once more. He saw her sigh with relief and then she began to walk away. She said nothing as she picked her purse up from a chair, opened the front door and left. No goodbyes - nothing. Kevin felt the undercurrent that permeated the house and didn't know what to make of it. He had only been gone for two hours. What in the hell could have happened? He wouldn't have too much longer to wonder. He felt the knob turn from the other side of the door and stepped back as it began to open.

Tristan stood there, not moving for a few seconds. She looked up into Kevin's fear stricken face and then back to the floor before she brushed past him. He could see that she had been crying.

"Tristan! What happened, baby?" He made an attempt to take her arm but she froze at his touch. "You've been crying.." She jerked her arm away and kept walking.

"I'm okay, Kevin. Really. Mood swings, I guess."

She disappeared into the kitchen and then reappeared a few seconds later. Kevin hadn't moved from the spot where she'd left him.

"I'm going outside I think.." she said, her voice still flat. "I need a little air."

"I'll go with you. We can…"

"No." Tristan interrupted him. "I want to be alone for a few minutes."

Kevin nodded slowly and swallowed. She needed some space. He was hovering. Tristan opened the front door ready to step outside when she stopped and turned back to him. "By the way.. I signed your agreement. You can take it to your lawyer or he'll send somebody to pick it up." The door closed gently behind her but for some reason, the catch of the latch sounded like thunder to Kevin. Agreement?

Kevin stepped inside his office and looked around quickly. Nothing seemed unusual. The computer was turned off but he fired it up and logged on to the internet. When the screen had filled he clicked on the history button, trying to determine what Tristan had been looking at. There was nothing there. He had cleaned out the list after he had surfed the net on Saturday night. No one had logged on to any site since then. Then a glimmer of light on the floor near the trashcan caught his attention. A small shard of glass sparkled from the floor and he bent to pick it up. When he went to drop it into the trashcan, he saw the evidence of the crash he had heard earlier. Kevin picked the bent frame from the can. The glass covering their wedding photograph was broken, the picture cut. She had just trashed the whole thing - tossed it aside. It could have been repaired and reproduced…. He carefully removed the backing from the frame and slid the picture out slowly, not wanting to risk any more damage. He didn't understand.

It was then that Kevin spotted the manila envelope on his desk. He slid the blue binder from its packaging and studied the cover. He read the label twice, sure that he was misunderstanding the words. Post-nuptial agreement? Dissolution of marriage? His ears were quicker than his brain at that moment. He heard the rumble of Tristan's car starting outside and knew then that she had gotten her keys when she had stepped into the kitchen. She wasn't going outside for air. She was driving away for distance. Shit! Kevin jumped up from the desk and ran to the front door but he was too late. She was gone.

Now he was totally lost. What the fuck was going on? His brain shifted back to the binder and he reentered his office and started pouring over the papers. Tristan's initials were all over them. He couldn't believe what he was reading. Child support? Blood tests? Disclosures? Jesus Christ! Where did this come from? There was a buzz from the gate and Kevin jumped up to answer it. Maybe it was Tris. Maybe she forgot her remote and didn't remember the code…

It wasn't Tristan. It was the pharmacy delivering her medication.

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

Tristan wasn't sure where she was going. She just had an overpowering desire for fresh air and solitude but she really didn't know where to go to get those things. All she really knew of Orlando was theme parks, studios, clubs and shopping malls so she just kept driving aimlessly. She was tired and emotionally drained. Her autopilot must have kicked in somewhere along the way because after about an hour on the road, she found herself parked outside the Orlando Symphony. She sat in her car for several minutes trying to decide what to do. She couldn't sit there forever. There were still a couple of hours of daylight left and musicians were leaving the building and going to their cars. Someone would notice her sitting there. The hall wouldn't provide her with much fresh air but, at this time of day, she should have no trouble finding a place to be alone and quiet. With her hair tucked up under a baseball cap and wearing dark glasses, she got out of her car and made her way to the side door, slipping inside, unnoticed.

Tristan wandered through the maze of corridors that wove through the non-public areas of the concert hall. The building seemed deserted. Musicians and employees had left or were leaving and cleaning crews wouldn't arrive until two am. She passed the choral rehearsal studios remembering the many hours of practices she had conducted here. The hall suddenly twisted to the right and Tristan found herself approaching the individual practice rooms. She hesitated before continuing. The soundproof rooms were all empty at this hour. She must have journeyed past a dozen rooms before she came to the last two, which contained the pianos. Tristan opened one of the doors and peeked in. She shouldn't have. Flashes of her attack in Seattle exploded in her mind and she felt sick and overheated. Tristan wasn't aware that she was running, although she was conscious of the fact that doors, wall clocks and fire extinguishers seemed to fly past her at a high speed. When her legs finally stopped and her breath was all but gone, she discovered that she was at the opening that led to the left grand balcony seats of the theater.

These were the best seats in the house and Tristan stumbled down the incline to the first of only three rows of cushioned chairs. And they were actually chairs - thick, padded upholstery covered the frames and plush carpeting extended another five feet from the front row of chairs to the balcony railing. She collapsed onto one of the chairs and leaned down on the arm. Her heart was racing as a myriad of frightening and upsetting thoughts filled her mind. Lines from the post-nuptial agreement wrapped around suppressed memories of her rape. She was so tired and didn't want to think any more. She just wanted to rest in the silence of the empty theater but true rest wouldn't come. Soon a visitor from the past - a visitor she hadn't seen in over eight months, would trap Tristan's psyche. Tristan was about to re-experience the terror of her dreams.

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

Kevin was in his truck flying down the highway at breakneck speed. After Tristan left he had studied the document that he had found on his desk. Then he did two things. He called Amanda and then he phoned Bill Hathaway's office.

Amanda was surprised to hear from Kevin. She guessed that he was calling about Tristan and she was partially correct. The fact that he asked her about the document in the binder is what caught he off guard. Kevin was beyond disturbed.

"Amanda, do you know what happened today that has gotten Tristan upset?"

Amanda closed her eyes and sighed. It may be confession time. "I..I think so, Kevin.."

"Tell me what you know, Amanda! Now!"

"Why don't you ask Tristan!" Amanda bristled at his tone. Her defenses rose sharply.

"I can't do that, Amanda! She's taken off in her car and I don't know where! Now are you gonna tell me what happened while I was gone today? There's this…this…thing on my desk that Tristan has signed. Did she say anything to you about it?" Kevin waited for several seconds for Amanda to answer. "Well? Did she?" He was yelling now.

Amanda swallowed. Kevin sounded like he really didn't understand what was happening.

"Honestly - no. She didn't say anything to me about it but I know what it is…"

"You're talking in circles, Amanda. Cut to the chase! Please. I need to know what's happening…"

"Okay…okay. Tris had just woken up when someone came to the door - a guy from your lawyer's office. Tris told him that you weren't home and he said that was okay because he was delivering some papers for her to sign - not you. She took the envelope into the living room and I watched her open it. That's when she started getting upset. She tried to hide it and act like it was nothing - no big deal, but I saw her face. It was like someone had slapped her." When Amanda heard Kevin groan, she paused for a moment and then went on. "She wanted me to leave but I said that I'd promised you that I'd stay. That threw her a little, I think. Anyway, then she went upstairs to take a shower. She left the envelope on the table."

"I suppose you took a look at it while she was gone…"

Amanda wasn't sure what to say. She didn't want to sound like a snoop but she had, in fact, well…snooped. Getting blasted over the phone wasn't as bad as getting it in person. She confessed.

"Yes…I looked at it. I wanted to see why she was upset! I didn't know if I should call you and…"

"It's okay … I understand." He sounded …defeated.

"When she came back down, she picked up the envelope and took it into your office. It was quiet for a long time and then I could hear her crying. She stopped just before you came home."

Kevin leaned back in his chair and looked at the torn wedding photograph lying on his desk. He was fairly certain that he knew what kinds of things must have been going through Tristan's mind when she read the document. He decided to ask Amanda for her independent conclusions before trying to fix this mess.

"Tell me, Amanda. What did you think when you read the agreement? Be blunt, please…"

Amanda was more than happy to comply with Kevin's request. She had thought of little else since she had returned to her apartment. "All right, Kevin. I'll tell you. Frankly, I couldn't decide whether you'd lost your mind or if you were trying to win the 'Cocksucker of the Year Award'. I couldn't believe what I was reading! I still can't."

Kevin nodded on the other end of the phone. He imagined that Tristan had bought the 'award' scenario. And why shouldn't she? It seemed so deliberate and preplanned, especially considering the fact that she was now pregnant. Amanda had begun speaking again and Kevin had to ask her to repeat herself.

"You said that she signed off on the agreement. How was she when you saw her?"

"Oh, she said she was fine - just fine…"

"She's not fine, Kevin."

"God damn, don't you think I know that, Amanda?" Kevin said impatiently. His voice dropped as he spoke again. "Listen Amanda, I didn't know anything about this. I didn't ask my lawyer to draw up anything - I haven't spoken to him in weeks. I have no idea where this came from or why he did this but you can bet your ass that I'm gonna find out."

The second call Kevin made was to Bill Hathaway's office. Luckily, he was still there but getting ready to go home.

"Tell him to stay - that I'm on my way." Kevin demanded. He rethought his approach. He didn't want to scare Hathaway off before he got there. "Please tell him that I'm bringing the post-nup by. Tell him that Tristan has signed it but that I have a couple of questions… I won't keep him long."

Kevin was standing inside of Bill Hathaway's office twenty minutes later. Five minutes after that he was storming out, having read him Kevin's own personal version of a riot act. Not only had Bill Hathaway been fired but he had also been threatened with a lawsuit and potential disbarment. To top it off, he would probably need a couple of stitches.

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

Kevin traveled the streets of Orlando and it's outskirts for the next two hours. This was doing absolutely no good, he knew, but he had to do something. He called home every ten or fifteen minutes but no one answered. Tristan had left with nothing but her keys. When Kevin checked the hall closet before he left, he had noticed that her purse was there and when he opened it, he had found her cell there, too, not that she would have answered it if she'd had it with her. Kevin cursed under his breath. A cell phone was absolutely useless where Tristan was concerned. What she needed was some sort of microchip implant that could be targeted with a homing device. Fuck!

Kevin couldn't believe it when he finally spotted her car parked on a side street in downtown Orlando. It was almost dark and how he managed to notice it, he didn't know. It was a good sign - fate was on his side. Tristan had gone to the Symphony. The building was closed up but as he walked its perimeter, he saw two musicians standing outside of a side entrance talking and smoking cigarettes. They hadn't seen Tristan, but they knew her and were certainly familiar with Kevin Richardson. They opened the door for Kevin so he could take a look for himself.

The theater was almost dark, as if a performance were underway. The stage was lit but that was all. Kevin walked up and down the aisles, peering down the rows of seats. All empty. He was about to head for the backstage areas when he thought he heard a small noise coming from above his head. He stopped and listened. It was almost a whisper.

"No…stop…"

It was Tristan. The balcony…. Someone's hurting her….

Kevin raced to the back of the theater and up the curving lobby stairs to the second level seats. It took him a split second to get his bearings before he turned left and barged through the curtained entrance to the balcony seats. There were four boxes up here and by the time he had reached the third he still hadn't found her. He stood at the rear of the third box, out of breath. Then he heard her again - much closer this time. Her tone was more urgent.

"Don't… help me!…"

The fourth box! Kevin flew to the next balcony and stopped. There she was, laying on one of the front row chairs. She was alone. She was asleep. She was having one of her dreams. Kevin almost wept.

Email Grace

Tristan Trilogy - Story III

"Circling" is a work of fiction.
The characters and events portrayed are fictitious.
Any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental.

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