Tristan Trilogy- Story 3

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.
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