Tristan
Trilogy- Story 3
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CHAPTER 83
God, they are so beautiful… I think I must
be the luckiest son of a bitch alive – gorgeous wife – talented,
kind, sexy as hell… a son and daughter who think I’m a super-hero…
a sweet little baby girl I could eat with a spoon… My career is
going great. I’m singing with my boys, still bringing in the fans,
still selling albums… I’m producing and developing, writing and
creating – creating music, creating babies, creating new friendships,
creating respect…
Kevin looked down at his family as they
slept together on his and Tristan’s large bed. Rachel slumbered
in Tristan’s arms, her tiny rosebud mouth making little sucking
movements now and again. Ben and Mallory snuggled against their
mother – one on each side of her. The video camera was in their
closet – always charged and ready to go. Kevin decided he needed
to capture this peaceful moment on tape and went to the closet
shelf. After filming his family unaware, he returned the camera
and checked the spare battery and charger case that fit into
a side compartment of the molded camera valise. Fresh batteries
were in place but the charger was missing. Kevin smiled grimly
at the baggie of cocaine that had taken its place before replacing
the camera and returning the case to the shelf.
He was now living three separate lives.
This afternoon, he was in ‘father/husband’ mode, which gave
him a great deal of peace, comfort and joy. Later this evening,
he would meet with the group to film a public service announcement
and he would move to ‘Backstreet’ mode from which he garnered
the satisfaction of career accomplishment. But later tonight
and into the wee hours, he would become ‘Party Kevin’ and a
confirmation of power, along with a few minutes of euphoria,
would come from lines of powder. Within a few hours, he would
shift from ‘Gracious, Generous, Loving Kevin’ to ‘Perfectionist,
Leader, Responsible Kevin to ‘Sophisticated, Smooth, Cool Kevin’.
He didn’t seem to realize that there didn’t have to be any delineation
between the three. Three lives – one dangerous secret.
Of course, his cocaine use wasn’t really
that much of a secret. He wasn’t really sure how Dr. Malone
and AJ managed to figure out he’d been snorting when Rachel
was born. He had acted fine and it had already been a couple
of hours since he had done his last line when he saw them. AJ
had seemed a little cool since then. Kevin couldn’t really put
his finger on it but there was the tiniest bit of discomfort
between them that hadn’t been there before. When he had seen
Dr. Malone after Rachel’s birth, he thought he had detected
a sad look in the doctor’s eyes, along with a bit a judgment
which Kevin resented. He had detected a certain distance from
Tristan, as well. Sure, he had been out with friends a few times
but he had been there for her – except for when she went into
labor with Rachel. He should have checked his cell. He knew
that, but he just didn’t think. You didn’t think because
you were too busy getting high… Kevin pushed the self accusation
away. Rationalization and excuses had become a way of life for
him. Basically, things seemed good though, and he began to convince
himself that her frequent moments of quiet and introspection
were the result of some sort of post-partum hormone deficiency
and not any worries or fears about him and what he was doing.
Days turned into weeks and soon April was
upon them. Tristan and Kevin had resumed their sexual relationship
a few weeks earlier. Kevin had noticed a few subtle changes
in her response to him – nothing he considered serious. She
just seemed a little more guarded than usual. He chalked this
up to the fact that she was overcome at times with the responsibility
of taking care of three small children. Her own professional
time had become almost non-existent, yet when Kevin had suggested
they get some help, she had refused.
He convinced himself that things were settling
and his world was in order except for Tristan’s ‘baby blues’.
It was 2004. The group would begin a new tour next month. That
was exciting – it had been too long – but right now, Kevin focused
on his next immediate project. The group would soon be shooting
a video for their next single and he was going to direct it.
Jimmy and Ronni had come to Orlando last
week. Jimmy was producing videos now and had suggested that
Kevin try his hand at directing. They were supposed to meet
at a new club tonight to celebrate – all four of them. Kevin
had noted Tristan’s lack of enthusiasm and it annoyed him. He
knew why and that bugged him even more. She didn’t like their
perceived influence over him and feared that he would be encouraged
to ‘party’. Now, she was claiming she couldn’t find a sitter
and Kevin found her excuse for not wanting to meet them both
petty and transparent. She thinks that if she can’t go, then
I won’t go. She doesn’t want me to go because she thinks that
Jimmy and Ronni are gonna turn me into some kind of heroin addict
or something… I told her I was okay. She needs to stop treating
me like a child. She has enough children around here to worry
about! I hate to tell her but I’m gonna meet them tonight, with
or without her. I feel like a party… I want to party – bad…
“What happened to all those college kids,
Tris? I find it hard to believe you can’t find anyone to babysit…”
Tristan turned from the pile of laundry
she was folding. Kevin’s remark hit her the wrong way as if
he thought she were trying to mess up their evening deliberately.
Her suspicions were confirmed when she saw the look of skepticism
in his face.
“I told you, Kevin. It’s spring break.
The kids I’ve called on before are out of town. I can hardly
help that.
“Very convenient…” Kevin muttered under
his breath.
Tristan’s hands went to her hips. “What
did you say?” she scowled.
“You could call a service, you know.”
“I’m not letting somebody I don’t know
watch our babies! Are you crazy?”
Kevin was becoming highly irritated. He
would never suggest something that he didn’t feel was safe and
resented the implication.
“Well, I guess that lets you off the hook,
then…”
“What does that mean, Kevin?”
Tristan wondered how a pleasant and lazy
afternoon had suddenly turned sour. Although she hadn’t tried
to hide her feelings about most of Kevin’s LA ‘connections’
she would never be rude or insulting to them. She just couldn’t
find a sitter, that’s all. She had even tried to call Denise
who had offered her services in the past, but no one was at
home.
“It means, Tris, that you don’t want to
subject yourself to such crassness anyway and this is a good
excuse – feeble as it might be…”
“You make me sound like a snob…”
“Hey, if the classical shoe fits….”
It was a mean thing to say and he knew
it. Kevin just wished that Tristan would get the bug out of
her ass about these people and accept them for who they were.
He felt that she blamed them for his cocaine use and, while
they were frequent indulgers, they had not introduced him to
the power of blow. Now Tristan stared at him through hurt eyes
but he refused guilt.
“It’s not an excuse, Kevin, and I’m sorry
that you feel like it is. You don’t have to worry. I’m not going
to mess up your little ‘party’ with the cool people. You go
right ahead without me.”
“I plan to,” he answered before turning
to walk away.
*****
Tristan was feeding Rachel when Kevin came
downstairs later that evening. The tension was still thick between
them and few words were exchanged. He looked nice tonight and
Tristan felt a small stab of jealousy at the fact that he was
choosing to share his evening with others. It was irrational
to feel that way. She knew that but still felt a certain sense
of loneliness as she watched him gather his keys and retrieve
his jacket.
“Where will y’all be tonight?” she asked
coolly, raising Rachel to her shoulder.
Kevin acted a little surprised at her interest.
“Jimmy said something about a private club in Kissimmee. I think
it’s called ‘The Speakeasy’. Why?”
“Just wanted to know where you’d be in
case of an emergency or something…”
“That’s where I’ll be,” he responded flatly.
As an afterthought he added, “Don’t wait up. I’ll probably be
late.”
Tristan just nodded. Kevin was still angry
with her. Then he was gone.
*****
The children were all asleep and Tristan
had curled up in bed with a novel when the phone rang. She glanced
at the clock – 10PM. Caller ID indicated that the call was from
Mary Delaney, one of her students who was now doing an internship
with the Symphony. Mary had taken care of Ben and Mallory before
and had been one of the people Tristan had tried to call to
baby-sit tonight. Mary had returned from Ft. Lauderdale and
wanted to know if Tristan still needed her.
At first, Tristan had said ‘No’, but after
Mary’s urging, she reconsidered.
“It’s not all that late, Mrs. Richardson.
I can be there in fifteen minutes.”
“I don’t know, Mary,” Tristan smiled into
the phone. “It’s already after ten. Kevin went on to the club
alone. Don’t worry about it. I appreciate your…”
“He went without you?” Mary interrupted.
“Shoot, Mrs. Richardson! I’ll bet you two haven’t been clubbing
together since forever and clubs don’t really start shaking
until midnight. You could surprise him!”
“Are you giving me romantic advice?” Tristan
teased.
“Well…”
“I’m kidding, Mary! Maybe you’re right.
I don’t know. I think…”
“Stop ‘thinking’, Mrs. Richardson! I’m
on my way – you get ready!”
Click.
Tristan stared at the receiver. Maybe
she’s right. Kevin is excited about directing and this was to
be kind of a celebration. I don’t want him to think I don’t
support him – even if I’m not crazy about some of his friends…
With that thought in mind, she climbed out of bed and went in
search of something to wear.
*****
The club was very exclusive. Many of the
people there worked behind the scenes but Kevin saw his share
of ‘celebs’, too. The liquor flowed freely and so did the coke
and pills. He considered the name of the club and realized that
it was not so much based on cleverness as it was reality. No
one made any great attempts to hide anything. Patrons were nominally
discreet. No one was throwing pills across the room or sprinkling
cocaine around like fairy dust but vials and bags were openly
passed and investigated. In-house DJ’s kept the music loud and
constant. The small dance floor looked like a tangle of pulsating
bodies.
When Kevin walked in, some of these people
looked at him as if they were surprised that he would be there.
After all, not only were drugs in abundant supply but sex was
openly available, too. The place was practically a bordello.
Not only was there a list of acceptable patrons, there was also
a list of acceptable women who were allowed to come here. These
women were professionals who knew which side of their bread
was buttered and wouldn’t risk being blacklisted. Club ‘members’
felt the same way. This was a ‘safe-house’ of sorts to them.
They could do almost anything they wanted, short of murder,
and not suffer public recourse. Jimmy had ‘explained’ the club
at dinner and invited Kevin to come as his guest. Now as Kevin
surveyed the room, he found his ego growing with every nod or
smile tossed in his direction. The fact that he was there at
all gave him a certain amount of acceptance that he regarded
as respect. It was time to party.
*****
Tristan sat parked outside in her Suburban,
already feeling like a fish out of water. She cast a weary eye
towards the back of the truck. Two protected child seats, one
infant car seat and a myriad of pillows and toys cluttered the
rear passenger area. Then she glanced down at herself. She had
worn leather tonight. She wasn’t sure what was appropriate and
had hoped she wouldn’t be too far out of line. The camel colored
glove leather dress flattered her curves and coloring without
making her feel like a dominatrix. Judging from the people walking
in, she guessed that her choice was alright, although she may
be slightly overdressed despite the simplicity of her clothing.
She decided to take her hair down, though. That might be a little
‘uptight’ so she released the pins and let it fall, foregoing
the brush and combing through the thick strands with her fingers
instead. Then, taking a breath, she climbed out of her ‘family
vehicle’ and walked to the entrance. It was almost 11:30. Kevin
had probably been here for a while.
*****
Kevin had been there long enough. There
was no doubt about that. He had been at the club for two hours
and had already had four drinks and several lines of coke. He
was on his way to being drunk and was wired to the hilt. He
had already met so many people! Jimmy and Roni were fun! He
didn’t know why Tristan didn’t like them. God – she’s so
tight assed sometimes.. He totally missed the irony of his
judgment.
Several women had already asked him to
accompany them to the floor and had been less than coy as they
pressed themselves against him under the guise of ‘dancing’.
It had been a very long time since Kevin had felt a woman’s
body in that way, except for Tristan’s. He couldn’t deny his
excitement, but it had nothing to do with his heart. This rationale
allowed him to separate his actions from his feelings and believe
that he had total control over the situation and himself when,
in fact, he had little control over anything. A dance had just
ended when Tristan came into the club.
*****
Tristan had decided to take the steps to
the balcony so she could better see the club and spot Kevin.
She’d had to wait for a minute before she was even allowed to
come in. A large man at the door had checked a list and not
found her name on it. She’d had to explain that she was with
another couple who were there with her husband. Finally she
had granted admittance.
She stood there for several minutes looking
over the railing, past the bar, tables and dance floor. Glancing
towards the sound of a high pitched laugh, she spotted Jimmy
and Ronni at a far table but no Kevin. Then she saw Ronni wave
and looked to see who the recepient was. Tristan felt her blood
turn to ice.
Kevin was being led from the floor by his
hand. The woman doing the leading was tall, dark, exotic looking
and affectionate. Kevin didn’t seem to mind. Tristan had a flashback
to the time she was staying with Kevin and mixing the Millennium
album – the time when she had seen him ‘dirty dancing’ at an
Orlando club – and wondered if he had just revived a few of
his moves with this stranger. He tripped a little walking to
the table and Tristan suspected he was drunk. He laughed at
his clumsiness and then flopped down in the chair. The exotic
stranger sat, too – in his lap. Kevin made no move to extricate
himself.
A waiter brought over another round of
drinks. Soon the foursome was laughing together and Tristan
knew that, had she been with Kevin tonight, there probably wouldn’t
have been so much gaiety. Her eyes began to fill. She couldn’t
move. The woman on Kevin’s lap began to run her fingers through
his hair as Ronni fished into her purse and brought something
out. From where Tristan stood, she couldn’t identify the object
except to say that it was small. Ronni held it up to one side
of her nose and inhaled sharply. She repeated this action on
her other nostril and passed the object around the table.
Cocaine… An errant tear slid down Tristan’s cheek as she
watched Kevin breathe in the powder, shake his head and rub
his nose. When the stranger encouraged him to take more, he
did. That’s when Tristan turned away from the railing and left
the club.
*****
‘Speakeasy’s’ was known by its clientele
for its discretion, which is one of the reasons it was popular
with the elite. If the club’s reputation was impugned, they
might as well lock the doors and so when George, who had admitted
Mrs. Richardson, saw her leave in tears, he thought he’d better
check out the situation and locate Mr. Richardson’s table.
“Mr. Richardson?”
Kevin turned and faced the bouncer with
a grin on his face.
“Yes?”
“Ummm…I was wondering if everything was
okay.” George glanced uneasily at the woman on Kevin’s lap.
“Couldn’t be better!” Kevin laughed. “Thanks..”
“Mrs. Richardson found you then?”
The noisy club suddenly seemed quiet and
Kevin’s expression shifted one-hundred eighty degrees. He unconsciously
pushed the dark stranger from his lap.
“Mrs. Richardson?” Kevin frowned.
“Yes, sir. She came in a while ago and
went up to the balcony, presumably to see if she could find
you. She left about ten or fifteen minutes ago. I – I wasn’t
sure if she’d found you. She seemed….. upset.”
Ronni began to titter and Kevin jerked
his head in her direction.
“Uh-oh….” she giggled. “Looks like wifey-poo
was doing a little spy work to me, Kev, and man- are you ever
busted!”
Kevin stared at his half-filled glass.
What the fuck was she doing here? She said she couldn’t
find a sitter and now she’s hanging over the balcony trying
to see if I’m being a ‘good boy’? Kevin slammed his fist
down on the table.
“FUCK!!!”
*****
Tristan managed to get home in record-breaking
time. Her tears had dried and she felt surprisingly calm by
the time she drove through the gate. ‘Knowing’ that Kevin was
using and actually seeing him use, were two vastly different
things and the reality of watching him had pushed Tristan from
her role as ‘naïve onlooker’ to ‘witness for the prosecution’.
She had to fix this. It would strangle them if she didn’t and
would haunt her if she made no attempt to try. She had to face
it now.
She needed a mission and decided that she
would send Mary home right away and search the house. She hated
doing it but in her desperation, she considered it a matter
of survival. She entered the house with a smile on her face,
lied about having a headache and sent Mary on her way. She would
start in Kevin’s study.
*****
Kevin made no excuses or apologies as he
abruptly left the club. Cocaine had diluted his guilt with anger
and he planned to ream Tristan out and get this settled once
and for all. Christ, twelve hours ago, he was the luckiest bastard
in the world and now he felt betrayed. Tristan had come to spy
on him. She didn’t support his move into directing. She didn’t
trust him to control himself – to know when things were getting
out of hand. She didn’t like his friends. She tried to make
him feel guilty.
His attempt at a quick getaway was thwarted
when he discovered that his keys must have fallen from his jacket
pocket. With the help of a club attendant, he finally found
them near the entrance but by then, forty minutes had passed.
He was still too wired to drive but sober enough to realize
it and, despite his normally heavy foot, took his time going
home. The last thing he needed was to be stopped by the Florida
State Police.
*****
Tristan had found nothing in Kevin’s study
– except his checkbook. She thought twice about opening it but
figured that since she had already crossed one line, she might
as well go past the second. As she flipped quickly through the
pages, her fears were realized. Checks for large sums of money
had been written all too frequently. Some were written to people
she had met and the memo’s that described the reasons for the
withdrawals ranged from ‘poker loss’ to ‘loan’ to ‘movie investment’,
but many others were written out to ‘Cash’ and involved amounts
ranging from one thousand to ten-thousand dollars. Tristan had
no idea when Kevin had started writing these kinds of checks.
This particular checkbook went back almost a year and Tristan
noted that these checks made out for cash had been written at
increasingly shorter intervals. Kevin was going through a shitload
of money and Tristan was glad that she had made the painful
decision to take some action on his holdings immediately after
Rachel had been born.
After she had checked the study, she went
into his studio. There weren’t too many places to check in there
and her search didn’t take too long. Once again she came up
empty. Time was flying and Tristan thought that she might have
time to check only one more room tonight. She decided on their
bedroom and after checking the toilet tanks downstairs, she
headed into their private sanctum.
Nothing was found in their bathroom or
in their bedroom. Tristan went to their closet. After checking
Kevin’s pockets and shoes, she went for his collection of baseball
caps. She felt sneaky and ashamed going through his things but
also a little relieved because she hadn’t found anything. Maybe
he had kept his promise. Then Tristan reconsidered. He had promised
that she would never see it in their house. He didn’t promise
it would never be there.
The closet was clear. As she reached up
to turn off the light, her eyes fell on Kevin’s video camera
case. It was almost out of sight, having been covered with sweaters
and a few sweatshirts. Tristan stared at the case for several
seconds, trying to fight the sudden nausea that was threatening
to overcome her. Her sixth sense had suddenly kicked into high
gear and she knew. She couldn’t explain it. She just knew….
*****
Tristan had just emptied the baggie down
the toilet when she heard Kevin slam the front door. He was
home much earlier than she anticipated and from the sound of
his slamming and pounding footsteps, she knew that he was angry.
After several seconds, she heard him yelling. He had gone into
his study. Tristan had been in such a hurry, she had probably
failed to close all of the desk drawers and now remembered leaving
his checkbook on top of his desk.
She didn’t even hear him bounding up the
stairs but suddenly, there he was – panting in the doorway of
their bedroom. He was not only angry – he was crazy. He was
not only crazy – he was fried. He was not only fried - he was
wired. His eyes almost looked like pinwheels. Tristan stood
by the bathroom door with an empty baggie in her hand. The whisper
of a refilling toilet tank was the only sound heard. Then Kevin
started moving towards her.
For a moment, she was confused. Tristan
saw Kevin’s hand coming at her but time had slowed. She glanced
at him, puzzled. What are you doing? She saw Kevin’s
face, Kevin’s body, Kevin’s hand, but the soul that shone in
his eyes did not belong to Kevin. When he stuck her, when he
knocked her down onto the hardwood floor, she was too shocked
to feel fear – too bewildered to feel pain. As the coppery taste
of blood filled her mouth, Tristan knew that it was over. The
marriage of Kevin and Tristan had come to an abrupt and unexpected
end.
She wouldn’t see him again for a very long
time.
CHAPTER 84
Tristan arrived at the gates of the Schumaker
Clinic for Substance Abuse early on Thursday evening. Kevin
had been admitted under protest during the early morning hours.
She had seen it coming but her heart was still broken. As she
drove down the cobbled lane to the facility, Tristan prayed
that Kevin would receive the help he so desperately needed.
She wondered if anyone else would be here
with him besides his mother. Anne had remained civil to her,
as had his blood brothers. If any of his Backstreet brothers
were here, she doubted she’d get much in the way of kindness
from them. Although she used to hear from Holly occasionally,
via a card or letter sent to an anonymous post office box, she
hadn’t spoken to her directly in over a year. Tristan hadn’t
been surprised. She was, after all, the bad guy. She had come
to realize months ago the amount of money that Kevin was spending
on drugs and frivolity induced by drugs and she had begun a
slow and purposeful attack on his assets. By the time she had
been forced to leave him, eighty-five percent of his cash and
holdings had been transferred to her name and her name only.
She had never needed his money and so when it was discovered
that she had acquired almost everything he had, the reasonable
assumed motive was vengeance. Not just vengeance over the pain
and suffering she endured because of his addiction but also
over every other sad event that had taken place in their lives.
The group had pretty much cut her off.
Some of them had come to understand why she’d felt it necessary
to leave but they hadn’t understood her selfishness and apparent
cruelty. Nick, in particular, had badgered her relentlessly
until his own confusion and heartache had turned into anger.
Tristan had tried to keep in touch at first but as bad feelings
began to fester, it became too difficult. Nick had finally given
Holly an ultimatum. She would have to choose between her friend
and her husband. Tristan had taken the choice out of Holly’s
hands and had written to her, asking that she not contact her
anymore. She hadn’t – not directly, anyway. Tristan occasionally
heard from friends in the classical field who would mention
that Holly had asked about her and the children.
Tristan had even asked Mason not to try
and find her. There were some people she would keep in touch
with through third parties. Unfortunately, her closest friends
had been put into a position where they had been forced to choose
sides. Tristan didn’t want them to have to choose, so she simply
removed herself from the equation. Besides, Kevin needed them
badly. She was okay. Really….
She wouldn’t have come if Kevin’s doctor
hadn’t called her soon after his admittance. She was told that
Kevin had come close to overdosing and that he was now vacillating
between total despondency and extreme agitation. Symptoms of
withdrawal were already setting in. The only person he mentioned
at all – the only person he screamed for - was Tristan. He didn’t
understand why she wasn’t with him. He was paranoid, delusional
and thought that his family and his friends were purposely keeping
her from him. At times, he even seemed to think that she was
dead. Kevin’s reality had become grossly distorted – almost
to the breaking point. Although he had cursed and screamed at
Tristan over the phone during the first few weeks after she
had left him, he hadn’t actually seen her in almost fourteen
months. As his dependency on cocaine and pain killers grew worse,
his calls had become more emotional and threatening. Tristan
had to relocate three times before the calls stopped. She hadn’t
heard from him since.
Then she got one of those dreaded ‘middle
of the night’ calls. She didn’t understand how Kevin’s doctor
had been able to get in touch with her directly. The third party
communications links she had set up between Anne, Mason and
herself had been arranged for all of their sakes. Then the doctor
told her that he had gotten her number from Mr. McLean. She
still didn’t understand. AJ?
***** AJ stood in the solarium with the
others and stared at nothing. He was conflicted and could barely
think. He wanted a smoke. He tried to label his feelings but
there were too many – anger, sadness, curiosity, disgust, sympathy
and fear – just to name a few. His eyes rested on Anne, Jerald
and Tim. They were pathetic and scared. Anne and Tristan had
always been good to each other. Despite the divorce, Tristan
had seen to it that the children spent time with their grandmother
and their father. AJ knew that family was important to Tris,
probably because she’d never really had one herself, and she
had even arranged for Mallory, Ben and Rachel to spend last
Christmas with the Richardson’s in Kentucky. No one knew where
Tristan had spent the holidays. AJ had tried to locate her but
had no luck. Brian had made innuendoes about her spending Christmas
with a ‘special friend’, which was pure speculation on his part
designed to stop any possible sympathetic reactions that might
be thrown her way. The Richardson’s tried to hate Tristan and
blame her for Kevin’s deterioration but they’d had a hard time
doing so. Their trial became a little easier when they found
out that Tristan had pulled the rug out from under Kevin financially
but these gentle people had the sense to know that money wasn’t
the real issue here.
Howie had been pretty good at avoiding
this entire episode. Even he couldn’t mediate this one. The
money issue had definitely hit a sore spot with him though and
he had spoken to his fiancée about signing a pre-nup. She had
broken their engagement the next day.
Holly was here with Nick. AJ’s feelings
were mixed about these two but he thought that he felt mostly
anger. Tristan and Kevin had been the closest to them and Holly
still mourned the loss of her dearest friend. Nick had grown
somewhat jaded. He was no longer silly or childish. AJ missed
that. Nick now understood what had happened to Kevin but his
loyalty had caused him to seek a scapegoat to carry fault and
blame for Kevin’s condition. Tristan was the most accessible
target. Nick hadn’t spoken of her in months yet AJ always felt
her presence around the two of them, especially when Kevin was
there, too.
Brian had managed to earn AJ’s full-fledged
disgust. He seemed to insist on using his professed love for
family to justify his sanctimonious judgements. None of the
others knew for sure what had caused the final rip in Tristan
and Kev’s marriage but had come to realize that drugs had been
a major factor. They knew it had been bad and figured that Kevin’s
drug use had triggered the break up. Brian had finally accused
Tristan not only of theft, but also of the abandonment of her
wedding vows. He made no mention of Kevin’s vow breaking. Brian
felt that Tristan had walked out when Kevin had needed her support
the most.
His argument was compelling, but none of
them had seen the cut and bleeding lip or the bruised jaw that
Tristan had received at the back of Kevin’s hand. None of them
had looked into the faces of their crying children and helped
to wipe their tears. None of them had heard Tristan whispering
words of comfort to them in the night, assuring them that their
Daddy loved them very much and defending him by telling them
that Daddy was sick and needed to go to the doctor. AJ had heard
and seen it all on that dark and windy night that she had come
to his house for help and then pleaded with him for secrecy.
Kevin hadn’t felt like he needed to see
a doctor or get help and now – here they were. He had finally
gotten a hold of some bad coke that had been laced with God
knows what. Kevin’s heart hadn’t stopped racing. He was totally
wired and, as far as anyone could tell, hadn’t slept in almost
four days. Doctors here couldn’t begin to treat him until he
was calm enough to get some rest and they didn’t want to give
him narcotics – not now. When the doctor had asked who Tristan
was, Anne had burst into tears and AJ had taken it upon himself
to speak to the doctor privately and give him Tristan’s number.
Tristan didn’t know that AJ had her number.
No one did. AJ had understood why Tristan had to leave and while
he didn’t understand her procurement of Kevin's assets, he was
determined to give her the benefit of the doubt. He had decided
that he was going to keep an eye on Tristan, albeit a long distance
eye, and secured regular reports on her whereabouts and general
condition. While it was true that he was doing this out of a
genuine affection for Tristan and the children, he was also
doing it for Kevin. A divorce would never be strong enough to
sever their connection. AJ wondered if even death could accomplish
that.
*****
The sunlight was so bright behind her that
they didn’t see her coming. Heads turned towards the soft clicking
sound of heels on terrazzo. When her form emerged through the
light, it was as if time had stopped for a moment. Tristan looked
into the faces before her and suddenly recalled the story of
Daniel in the lion’s den.
Fourteen months had passed and she hadn't
changed a bit except for her eyes. They had grown dark and flat.
The sparkle was gone. Emotions in the room were running high
and the first sounds came from Nick as he literally broke down
and buried his face in his hands upon seeing her. Holly was
staring at her expectantly. Tristan's eyes had become wet too
but she looked away and blinked, trying to be mindful of why
she was here. No one spoke.
Kevin's doctor hurried in their direction.
He stepped beside Tristan and introduced himself as he extended
his hand. She took his hand and shook it gently.
"I'm glad you could make it here so quickly,
Mrs. Rich…"
"Please, call me Tristan.." she interrupted.
The doctor nodded. Mr. McLean had filled
him in on some of the domestic issues surrounding this case.
"I hate to hurry you, but Mr. Richardson's
condition is rather serious and urgent." He informed her calmly.
"Do you think you're ready?"
Tristan nodded and the doctor took her
arm. Suddenly, Brian's voice echoed through the room.
"What the fuck are you doing here, Tris?"
he shouted.
Tristan stopped and turned to Kevin's cousin,
trying to control her emotions. She refused to defend herself.
"I'm here to help Kevin, Brian.." Tristan
answered quietly, glancing towards AJ.
Brian laughed sarcastically. "Well I'd
say you're about a year too late, Tristan! Why didn't you try
helping Kevin then? Too busy picking his pockets?"
Tears began to spill down Anne's cheek.
"Please, Brian…" she whispered.
AJ grabbed Brian's arm. "No more, man…"
But Brian wouldn't stop. When Tristan turned
again to leave, Brian yelled after her.
"I think you're wasting your time here,
Tris! Kevin doesn't have any cash on him!"
Tristan hesitated at Brian's cruel words
but them composed herself and kept walking. AJ had heard enough.
He lunged at Brian and pinned him to the wall.
"I said 'no more', you little pecker! You
have no God damned idea of what happened between them and haven't
even had the generosity of heart to ask!" AJ was seething. "I
don't see any fuckin' crown of thorns on you head, Reverend
Littrell. If you're so damned perfect and holy, then pray up
a miracle for us and get Kev out of this shit!"
AJ stepped back from Brian.
"Sorry, Mrs. R…" he mumbled before leaving
the room.
**********
Tristan approached the door and just stood
for a moment, trying to prepare herself for what lay on the
other side. It had been so very long since she had seen him
outside of some magazine photographs and she wondered what his
reaction to her might be. Tristan was afraid. She had spent
all of these months shielding herself from Kevin - from the
pain he caused and from the pain he felt. She'd had to legally
disconnect from him on order to protect both of them. It was
true that she had gained sole control over most of his assets.
She understood how that must look but why couldn't they see
past the obvious? She had given them more credit than that.
Didn't they realize what kind of trouble he was headed for?
If his money, property and stocks hadn't been removed from him,
they would be gone by now. He would have nothing. Cocaine ,
barbiturates and ecstasy were expensive indulgences - not at
first, of course, but she'd seen what happened to others. So
had Kevin, but when you're the one ingesting, you always feel
like you have control over the drug. It makes you feel empowered
and invincible and then the cycle begins.
It had been surprisingly easy to gain control
of Kevin's various holdings because there had been no pre-nup.
Kevin had been generous and put almost everything in both their
names - not as in Kevin and Tristan but as in Kevin or Tristan.
That little two letter word - or - had given her the authority
to drain the bank accounts and mutual funds and to take control
of the stock portfolio. Property control had been fairly simple,
too. Most of their properties, including their home in Kentucky,
were deeded to both of them. One couldn't sell without the other's
approval and notarized sign off. Tristan wouldn't approve. It
had cut her to the core when his lawyers had issued a request
on his behalf that she sign an agreement to sell their Kentucky
home. It was then that Tristan realized how bad things really
were. When she refused, Kevin had phoned her, shouting profanities
and calling her names. He had been high when he called her and
she had relocated the following week. He could have taken her
to court but Tristan knew he would be advised not to. His remarkably
well-hidden 'problem' would be made public knowledge and would
adversely affect any hopes he might have for his career. It
would also threaten his relationship and visits with his children.
She hadn’t been surprised by the variety and number of his holdings,
except for one item - White Fences. His purchase struck a deep
chord within her and she made no attempt at acquisition. In
her heart, she knew that he had acquired the property for her
and had been waiting for a sign that she was ready to deal with
her past.
Before she left Orlando, Tristan made one
last visit to the house while he was out. She took most of the
awards that he and the BSB had received throughout the years
as well as the notarized copyrights to some of their music and
albums. She put the copyrights into a safe deposit box and the
awards were secured in a storage facility under lock and key
and an assumed name. She left everything else - paintings, jewelry,
clothes and other personal items. She only took two things with
her other than a small suitcase of clothing - one wedding photograph
and one item she had brought back to Florida from Kentucky -
Sophia.
************
"I want us to be left alone." Tristan said
softly, still staring at the door. "Please don't come in…"
The doctor shook his head. "We can't determine
his reactions to anything right now. We can't chance him hurting
you or himself, Tristan. We'll have to check on both of you."
"But we may need some privacy…" Tristan
bowed her head and looked down at the floor. "I don't know that
for sure. He may hate me and I'll be out in five minutes but
I may be in there for many hours. You said that he was starting
to suffer from withdrawal…"
"I'm sorry. We have to check on you. His
family and friends will want to look in on him, too. I'm in
no position to deny them that."
Tristan nodded. "I understand." She was
quiet for a moment, remembering her stay at Stonewall House.
"Does his room have a camera?"
The doctor shook his head. "No, only a
two-way mirror…" He pointed to a panel on the wall by Kevin's
door. "The panel opens to reveal the back side of the mirror."
"Can we compromise then?" Tristan sighed.
"How?"
It made Tristan ill to think of people
watching her with Kevin, especially when she didn't know how
intense or intimate they might become. That may not be a problem
but she was preparing herself for any possibility. She knew
instinctively that Kevin was crying out for comfort and she
knew how he was comforted. It had been one of their most precious
intimacies. She didn't want that corrupted but she wouldn't
let their pride stand in the way of helping him if he needed
it. Hopefully, their privacy would remain intact but if not,
Kevin need not ever know that it had been violated.
Tristan took a deep breath before she proposed
her solution. When she was finished, Kevin's doctor agreed to
her stipulations. The mirror would be checked at regular intervals
so that Kevin's progress or lack of progress could be monitored.
No one would enter the room unless the call button was pressed.
"Tristan, I will assure you that no one
will come to that mirror who doesn't have a vested interest
in Kevin's well being." The doctor had clearly understood Tristan's
insinuations relating to the privacy issue. "But you need to
know that some of those who claim such an interest are sitting
in the solarium right now - not professionals, but Kevin's family
and friends. Are you sure that you're willing to possibly expose
yourself in that way?"
Tristan closed her eyes again and concentrated
on Kevin and his currently miserable condition. Their pride
and privacy seemed inconsequential by comparison. She slowly
opened her eyes and looked into the doctor's face.
"I'm willing…" she answered seriously.
"Okay. Let's go then."
The doctor pushed the door open and Tristan
stepped inside. A moment later, he heard the door latch lock.
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.
Copyright
©2000
All Rights Reserved
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