Tristan Trilogy- Story 3

CHAPTER 79

Tristan was twenty-five years old before she went to her first amusement park. She had seen many since then and never tired of them. She even liked the cartoon characters that often paraded around the parks and even though she wasn’t really familiar with many of them, she was getting better. Tristan was probably one of the few people in the country who was truly impressed that Kevin ‘had been a Ninja Turtle’ and took pride in slipping that fact into conversations from time to time – much to Kevin’s chagrin. She even liked the rides and the scarier, the better – as long as she wasn’t alone.

Now she stood back on the bricked pavement and watched silently as the group was lining up for publicity shots in front of Disney’s latest attraction. In addition to the twenty or so people who had met together in the conference room earlier, another sixty people – mostly park staff and family members - had joined the entourage. The Boys had been posed in front of the ‘Tower of Terror’ which was a cylindrical structure that stood about fifteen stories high. It reminded Tristan of an overgrown silo. ‘Passengers’ would enter an elevator which would carry them to the top of the structure and then drop between tension-filled pauses. According to the Disney spokesperson, there would be several drops. The first would be a one-story fall, the second time the chamber would fall approximately four stories and the final drop would bring them to the base of the tower, stopping short of collision and easing down the last several feet to the ground. This was no ‘spinning tea cup’ or ‘flying Dumbo’ ride. This was a Disney nightmare and Tristan had visions Mickey Mouse screaming his little rodent lungs out as the ‘camera’ closed in on his tiny uvula wagging back and forth as he squeaked in horror.

Still, she was up for the challenge. Kevin would be with her, after all, and she felt the ride was safe, despite perceived danger. She seriously doubted that Disney’s engineers had taken any shortcuts and knew that if there was any real risk, people would not be allowed on board – especially if the Backstreet Boys were among those people.

The photographers had finished their work and the time had come for courage. Tristan watched Nick running for Holly. He grabbed her hand and started pulling her towards the gate, determined to be the first in line. Holly didn’t look too thrilled. Leighanne was playing the role of ‘the weak and frightened maiden who required the protection of her knight’, hanging on to Brian’s arm and pressing her forehead against his shoulder. She glanced to her left in time to see Ronni scrunch out a cigarette beneath her red patent leather mules, hitch up her bag up on her shoulder and roll her eyes as if she were bored to death. The fact was that they all ‘had’ to go on this ride. Public relations demanded it. If it was reported that any of the Boys – or their wives- had refused to participate it could greatly affect public reaction and some park visitors might question the safety of the ‘falling chamber’.

Tristan was feeling confident and slightly superior in the bravery department. What a bunch of wimps… This was her chance to shine – to show these people what she was made of. Kevin was coming towards her now, making faces pretending that he was biting his fingernails in fear. She had to laugh.

“You ready to be terrorized?” Kevin laughed as he approached.

“Ben and Mallory have prepared me for anything!” she shot back. “I fear nothing!”

Kevin draped his arm around her shoulder. “It’s a good thing. Jack would have a shit fit if any of y’all were too afraid to get on this thing. I just hope that Mason doesn’t make a spectacle of himself and throw himself into Jack’s arms or something…”

“Mason will be fine….”

The group was lined up and ready to go. Photographers had begun snapping pictures again as the line began to move. Suddenly, Tristan skidded to a stop, unable to move.

“What’s the matter?” Kevin asked, turning to look at her.

Tristan hesitated before answering. She needed and explanation for her unexpected reluctance, particularly when she had been fairly cocky just minutes before. The ‘matter’ was that she had seen the sign – the one posted beside the entrances to most ‘scary’ rides. The one that read:

You must be at least this tall before you will be allowed to board.

The statement was followed by a painted line that was placed four feet off the ground. That was no problem. The ‘problem’ was what followed.

This ride may provide a risk for those who have heart conditions and for pregnant women. If either of these conditions applies to you, please do not board.

“Tris? Come on, baby. You’re holding up the line…”

Tristan took a step back and swallowed. “I-I can’t…”

Kevin’s eyes narrowed. What the hell as this? She can’t be scared! She’s never refused to get on one of these things…

“Yes, you can, Tris…” Kevin said evenly. “Don’t tell me you’re scared – I know better than that. Whatever your ‘problem’ is, save it for later. This is a bad time…”

“No.” Tris said firmly, shaking her head. “I can’t.”

“Yes. You can. And you’re going to.” Kevin was scowling now and Tristan felt his hand wrap itself around her wrist. The sound of his voice was resonating through his clenched teeth and he made a valiant attempt to be patient and try to keep his tone low. “What the fuck is wrong with you, anyway? You’ve been acting weird for days…”

“Really?” Tristan whispered sarcastically. “I’m surprised that you’d even notice. You‘ve been so…so… busy lately…”

“Don’t start, Tris,” he warned. “You’re changing the subject. Now behave yourself and come on!”

The line had long since moved without them. People behind them were beginnng to grumble. As Kevin and Tristan glared at each other, a voice from behind called out. “Hey. Let’s go up there! You’re holding up the line!” Another voice entered the conversation

“Is there a problem?”

Jack had appeared at their side and was glancing nervously from one angry face to the other.

“No. No problem…” Kevin answered sternly, still glowering at Tristan.

“I’m not getting on, Jack.” Tristan blurted out.

Jack chuckled uneasily. “You have to, Tris. This is kind of a big publicity opportunity – for Disney as well as Backstreet. You’re supposed to be having a good time…”

Tristan didn’t reply but moved forward with Kevin when he took a step. Then she took him by surprise by jerking her hand free. She bolted.

Kevin and Jack both spun around in time to see the back of Tristan’s head working back down the line through the crowd. A heartbeat later, Kevin made a move to go after her.

“NO!” Jack shouted. Kevin stopped and turned back to him. Jack lowered his voice. “Don’t make this worse! Heads are turning already! Just be calm. I’ll think of something to say if anybody asks. You just keep on moving like everything’s okay.”

You could have boiled beans in Kevin’s butt, he was so mad. His arms folded across his chest and he began to focus on a nearby topiary as his mind raced. What the fuck is her problem? Did she have to pick today to start PMSing?… The line moved and Kevin directed his attention to the window display of a nearby souvenir shop. The voices around him had merged to form a white noise as his internal dialogue continued. Christ, almighty! She’s all jumpy one minute and cool as a cucumber the next. She says she’s starving to death and then she won’t eat anything. She’s all bubbly and cute and before you know it, she’s gotten all stubborn and bitchy… Once again, the line shifted and the potential passengers began to get excited. Kevin looked several yards across the bricked pavement at Tris who was now standing and staring at him…. pouting. He gave her his ‘evil eye’ and she cast her eyes down to the pavement. Her reaction caused him to feel a brief moment of victory. Humph!

“I hope this damn ride doesn’t make me puke…”

Kevin turned. Howie was running his tongue across his teeth as if he were trying to dislodge something. He didn’t require a response from Kevin to continue his comments. That was good. Kevin wasn’t in the mood for chit-chat. He was like a dog with a bone – a pissed dog with a bone. Tristan had not only ignored his command to stay but had potentially thrown a small wrench into this PR event. Kevin glanced over at her again. She was standing alone, still looking down but now Kevin spotted a photographer nearby, taking her picture. Great…. I can see the headlines now - ‘Backstreet Wife Fears for Life – Refuses Invitation to the ‘Tower’. Jesus. Meanwhile Howie droned on.

“Damned cottage cheese… All stuck between my teeth…”

Kevin rolled his eyes. Howie and that fuckin’ cottage cheese… He eats that shit all the time. After a couple of hours his breath smells like sour milk! I hate to even see him eat it! It’s enough to make you sick… Kevin tuned him out and pretended to study the metal sign that hung by the turnstile.

….at least this tall….

Yeah, yeah…. Wonder what they do if a midget wants a ride – ooops – I mean ‘little person’…

…may provide risk….heart conditions….

I think I have a friggin’ heart condition right now… Why couldn’t she have made this easy? This is supposed to be fun…

…. or pregnant women…

Kevin frowned at the sign. Yeah, I can see where fallin’ nine or ten floors might upset a preganacy… Like a pregnant woman would even think about gettin’ on this thing… Sure…. He began to shift from foot to foot as he felt a chill run down his back. A certain uneasiness crept over him and he didn’t know why. Kevin leaned forward in order to look past the bodies that had begun to press up against him. Tristan still stood alone, watching him. Kevin glanced back at the sign and then at Tristan again. He was in the throes of an epiphany.

Bits and pieces of the past several days assailed his mind. She’d been jumpy and a little clingy. She had been unusually hungry. She had been more than willing to whet his sexual appetites – including the ‘3 F-er’ he had enjoyed last night. She looked odd at breakfast – like she was sick or something. She wanted to eat but then she didn’t eat…. Kevin’s eyes grew wide and he re-read the warning sign once more. pregnant women….

Howie almost bit his tongue off when Kevin suddenly turned, grabbed him by the shoulders and began shaking him violently. He thought that Kevin had finally cracked, but a half-assed explanation was soon forthcoming.

“Jesus, Howie! She’s pregnant!”

“Whaaaaat?…” Howie asked, still picking at his teeth. “Who? What’s the matter with you?” But Kevin had disappeared into the crowd, never noting Howie’s confusion.

*****

Brian was irritated beyond reason. He didn’t even want to come here today but he did his duty and smiled for the cameras. Leighanne didn’t like ‘rides’ but she was here, too, playing the role of Happy Backstreet Wife. He’d heard the murmurs behind him and looked to see the top of Kevin’s head as he pushed back through the line. Where is he going? He’s ditchin’ this thing?… Then he had looked past the photographers and news crew Video cameras… Great… to see Tristan off alone, pouting. Kevin was going after her, he could tell. Good. He needs to set her straight…

Brian caught Howie’s eye. Howie looked a little bewildered. Then he glanced up ahead. AJ was staring at Tristan, too – no doubt wondering what in the hell was going on. Nick was oblivious. He was just excited about the ride.

“Why do I have to go if Tris doesn’t have to?” Leighanne whined following Brian’s gaze.

The line had frozen as guests slowly became aware that something was amiss. By the time Kevin had squeezed himself back and out of the gate, the entire crowd was staring.

Tristan twisted her hands nervously. What’s going on? The whole crowd seemed to be looking at her. Then out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kevin approaching – quickly and with great determination. He looked….. funny…. She swallowed and began to back up, unaware that she was being filmed by a savvy cameraman with a nose for a story.

No one could hear what Kevin and Tristan said to each other but soon the observers were able to understand the scene before them, even though at first, they had to read between the lines. It was like watching a silent movie. Kevin moves in from the right. He’s walking quickly and soon begins to trot. He looks very serious, maybe even upset. Tristan’s eyes grow wide, surprised that he has exited the line and trying to anticipate what he’s going to say to her. She takes several steps back. Meanwhile, news cameras are rolling.

Kevin grabs Tristan by the shoulders and leans down to face her. It’s hard to tell if he’s angry or not. You can only see the back of his head at this point and he’s blocking Tristan’s face. After a little while, her head begins to nod. Kevin grabs her in a big bear hug. She looks like she may be struggling for breath. He releases her and then grabs her again. This time, he places his hands on either side of her head and kisses her – uh-oh… MAJOR pda… The kiss is lasting too long and would not be classified as casual. Onlookers are feeling uneasy and a little voyeuristic.

Finally, Kevin breaks away and a smattering of applause breaks out. Kevin turns to face the crowd as he puts his arm around Tristan’s shoulder. He’s grinning. She’s bright red. He pats her tummy and then takes his arm from around her shoulders so he can fold his arms into a cradling position and rock them before pulling her to him again. The crowd murmurs its approval. Tristan’s color deepens.

Kevin bends to face her once more as if he has a question. The crowd watches as he holds up two fingers and raises his shoulders. Tristan shakes her head, holds up one finger and then shrugs. Kevin kisses the top of her head and grabs her into another hug. Tristan is practically purple. She finally pushes Kevin away and points to the crowd. Kevin nods and dances back to the end of the line. As he makes his way back to the front, he is grinning. People are patting him on the back as if he were an Olympic gold medal winner. Tristan is rolling her eyes. He actually pauses in front of the other guys and beats his chest. Tristan shakes her head and rolls her eyes again.

Nick is still waiting to board. AJ is cackling. Howie is clueless. Brian is annoyed. Kevin is thrilled. He’s made another baby.

CHAPTER 80

It didn’t thrill Ann to hear about the baby from Jackie who had heard it on ‘E’, and she let her son know about it. Tristan wasn’t too happy about the way the news was announced, either. So much for hoping for a special occasion… She was immediately inundated with phone calls from manufacturers of everything from maternity clothes to baby food, all of whom wanted a Backstreet endorsement. Although the screams had diminished somewhat, the interest in all things BSB remained high. Kevin was apologetic but Tristan guessed that he was a little too excited to be too sorry.

It looked like this pregnancy would be easier than the first. Dr. Malone had recommended a doctor in Los Angeles who checked Tristan out thoroughly. She showed no symptoms of the pre-eclampsia that had plagued her in her first pregnancy and even routine discomforts – like morning sickness – seemed less severe. The only concern that the LA obstetrician voiced had to do with Tristan’s lack of weight gain. Although her body underwent the usual physical changes, by the time she was six months pregnant, she had only gained eight pounds. That was unusual, but not necessarily bad. Pre-natal development seemed to be going well. Kevin’s concern was directly related. Tristan’s pregnancy barely ‘showed’. He had felt the baby moving and had been assured that everything looked okay. His assurances had not only come from the doctor’s say-so, however, but from the sonograms that he had insisted upon on a monthly basis. Kevin wanted to ‘see for himself’ and before too long, he became fairly adept at reading ultrasounds. He became fairly adept at administering them, too. By the time Tristan had reached her sixth month, the doctor and Kevin had worked out a routine of sorts. Dr. Lamberth would hook up the machine and Kevin would squeeze the cold gel over Tristan’s belly and do the scanning.

Usually, Tristan would just lie on the table while Kevin and the doctor examined the small screen and discussed what they saw. Kevin’s ‘hands-on’ attention was both touching and annoying. Tristan was happy that Kevin wanted to be involved. She also had to fight her occasional irritation when he became ‘Dr. Richardson’, telling her what to eat and when and making constant ‘suggestions’ that might improve her girth. He wanted her pregnancy to be more obvious than it was.

“This baby’s on the small side, Tris. I think if you eat more, it’ll be better for both of you.” Then, as an aside, “Look at you. If you put on a sweatshirt, you can’t even tell we’re pregnant…”

Tristan caught the ‘we’re’. “Kevin, you have to remember that ‘we’ had twins last time, for God’s sake. Two babies – twice the size…”

“Still….” Kevin wasn’t convinced.

Tristan felt Kevin’s concerns about the baby’s size were sincerely felt but also knew that he liked it when she got big, too. He had equated her size with a healthy baby but it was also some sort of convoluted sign of his manhood. Plus, he thought it was sexy. Comments from others like ‘You sure you’re pregnant?’ didn’t help.

She couldn’t wait to get out of LA. Kevin’s work had gone well but his pattern of going out with his ‘friends’ had disturbed her. She tried to hold her tongue and remain patient. They would be going to Orlando soon and then to Kentucky for Christmas, after which they would return to Florida where the group would begin planning for a new tour. Tristan disliked Kevin being away but felt some relief in the fact that she would be near friends for an extended period and that their lives might take on a familiar – if weird – normalcy. Before that was to happen, however, Tristan would be forced to recognize the hard truth. Kevin was still using.

*****

Immediately after Tristan had found Kevin’s stash last year, she had noticed the differences in him, both physically and emotionally. His mood swings became less frequent, his paranoia had subsided and even his lovemaking had become less frenzied and demanding. There were still bouts of sweaty, fast and furious sex, to be sure, but they were matched with gentle and tender nights of relaxed and playful discovery. Kevin had gained weight and built himself up. His color was much better and his eyes had brightened.

Now, a year later, Kevin was frequently gone. Sometimes he said he was working. Other times, he might just say that he was going to stop by Jimmy’s or that he was going to meet someone else about business or check out a new singer at a club. He rarely asked if Tristan would like to accompany him and on those few occasions when she attempted to invite herself, Kevin would often dismiss her, saying she would be bored or that he might be home late and she needed her rest.

When Holly spoke to Tristan on the phone, she would invariably ask about Kevin. In fact, sometimes the ‘asking’ was more like ‘prodding’. The calls often ended leaving Tristan with an uneasiness or foreboding. She tried to chalk it up to hormonal swings but she was left with more ‘red flags’ than she could handle. Small changes in Kevin were surfacing once again.

One night, after she had put Ben and Mallory to bed and Kevin had left, she took out a pen and sheet of paper and sat down at the kitchen table. She was going to make a list of everything she could think of that had bothered her concerning Kevin. She had tried desperately to convince herself that her worries were groundless and really believed that if she wrote them down in black and white, she would see that she was being silly and emotional. When she had finished her list, she felt worse - not better - and tried to scribble explanations in the border that would dismiss her nagging doubts. Tristan felt her baby tumble in her womb. It wasn’t over.

She felt sick at her stomach as she picked up the phone and dialed KBNHA studios. She had intended on asking Kevin when he would be home and telling him that she would wait up for him. There was no answer. He said he would be there… Drumming her fingers on the glass topped table, she pondered her choices and finally determined that she really didn’t have any. She was going to have to confront him again – this time with no evidence. She hadn’t seen any cocaine in the house but she hadn’t looked for it, either. She couldn’t go through his things... She just couldn’t.

At last, she opened a deep kitchen drawer and pulled out the thick Los Angeles Yellow Pages. She needed information. Flipping through the thin pages, she stopped in the H’s. There she found what she was looking for and hoped she would get the knowledge she lacked. Tristan ran her index finger down the page and stopped. After staring at the number, she checked the time, glanced at the door and began pressing buttons. Her finger still pointed to the number listed under ‘Hotline – Substance Abuse’. After several rings, there was an answer. Tristan was surprised at how nervous she was but a sympathetic voice on the other end of the line calmed her considerably.

“This isn’t about me!” she blurted after the counselor identified himself. “I just have some questions…”

“Okay.” the voice replied evenly. “Are you concerned about someone you know?”

“Is this confidential?”

“Of course. You don’t have to give me your name or tell me who you might be asking about.”

Tristan chewed on her thumbnail for a moment before continuing.

“Can I ask what your background is? I mean, I don’t know if I’m even calling the right place…”

There was a light chuckle on the other end. “Sure, that’s okay. I’m a forty-nine year old recovering coke addict who just received a masters degree in psychology with an emphasis on substance abuse. I help run this hotline now and I’ve been clean for nine years.” He hesitated before going on. “Are you worried about someone?”

“Y-yes…” Tristan whispered. “My husband… I think he might be using cocaine and I want to be sure. I don’t know what to do. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe he isn’t….”

“Why do you think he might be?”, the counselor prodded.

“He’s used it before. It was a while before I found out…”

“You saw him using?”

“I found it. I had no idea. He threw it out…”

“Which made you think he wouldn’t use it anymore…”

Silence hung between them as Tristan realized how ridiculous her assumptions must sound. But she had believed… Hoped?

“Miss?”

“Oh – yes, I’m sorry. Go on..”

“I’m not sure what you want to know. Cocaine is very expensive. Would that be a problem for your husband?”

“No…”

“So, his getting rid of what he had wouldn’t really be a big financial loss to him…”

Tristan closed her eyes and pushed her hair back out of her face. “No,” she murmured.

“Okay,” the counselor responded kindly. “I’m just going to give you an overview and then you might have some more questions. It sounds like you’re not exactly sure what to ask.”

“No…” Tristan admitted.

“Well, then - Cocaine is highly addictive. It often begins very casually and soon the user develops and emotional as well physical dependence on the drug. If you’re tired, it gives you energy. If you’re down, it makes you feel good. When a person uses cocaine, they feel social, self confident and in control….”

In control…

“…The trouble is that if it’s used regularly, before too long a person needs the drug to feel ‘normal’.”

“Go on…”

“Cocaine is used by every element of society but in this town it’s often associated with show business because that’s where a lot of the money is. Usage is very common and often served up at gatherings as if it were an hors d’oeuvre. It’s very hard to refuse…”

Tristan interrupted. “But people know they can get hooked. Why do they tempt fate like that?”

“Because it's become very social and people want to think that it won’t happen to them – that they can control their usage. You indicate that money isn’t a problem for your husband but, believe me, if he becomes addicted, it could very well become a problem. It’s not just the cost of the cocaine to consider but the fact that it causes one to be reckless with their holdings – make lousy decisions… If their problem becomes known, you may have to deal with a damaged reputation. The user may be considered unreliable and an insurance risk.”

“I’m not even sure this is a problem…” Tristan explained, as denial fought her worry. “It’s probably his friends and that bugs me…”

“Mood swings, paranoia…” the counselor continued as Tristan began to shake her head. “…Rapid speech when using a little, slurred when taking high doses…” No, no, no… “….runny nose, cold symptoms, usually attributed to allergies…,” Oh God… “…irritability, short temper, increased urination, dilated pupils and, under the worst conditions, delusions or hallucinations….”

“TRISTAN!”

Her heart flew to her throat as she spun around to see Kevin standing and staring at her from the kitchen entryway. The phone fell from her hands, slamming onto the tiled floor.

“Didn’t you hear me? I asked who you were talking to? It’s one o’ clock in the morning.”

Tristan began to blink rapidly as instinct overtook honesty. Kevin’s eyes looked like cinders... dilated pupils... and wavered from hers only when she reached over to close the phone book.

“Kevin – you scared me!” she smiled nervously as she bent down to pick up the disconnected phone.

His expression remained unchanged. “Who are you talking to at this hour? I thought you’d be asleep.”

“Uh…Holly. It’s only ten in Florida. Thought I’d give her a call.”

Tristan couldn’t ever remember lying to Kevin before, yet she felt like she had to. He wouldn’t understand her call – her fears. The look on his face told her that. He stepped over to her and eyed her suspiciously.

“You need the Yellow Pages to call Holly?” he asked, reaching past her to lift the large phone book from the table.

Tristan licked her lips. “Of course not, silly. I was just looking for...”

“Give me the phone, Tristan.” Kevin held out his hand.

“No calls, Kevin,” she said lightly. “Let’s go to bed. It’s late…”

He was silent for a moment. Tristan could see the muscles in his jaw tighten. In the next instant he made a lunge for her and snatched the phone from her hand before she could react.

“I said ‘ GIVE ME THE GODDAM PHONE!”

Tristan took a step back as Kevin studied the buttons. Her eyes widened as she watched his finger move to the top row and press the small white dot on the left. Redial….

Kevin held the phone up to his ear and listened intently as the rings began. He stared at the floor, studying Tristan’s bare toes against the tile. After several rings, there was an answer and his gaze moved slowly from Tristan’s toes up to her belly, breasts and, finally, her face as a voice echoed in his ears.

“Substance abuse hotline. Can I help you?”

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