Circling

Tristan Trilogy- Story 3

CHAPTER 9

When Kevin and Tristan got home at 2:45, they had eleven messages waiting for them on the answering machine, the last one coming in at two AM, just about the time that Tristan and Kevin had been trying to pull their clothes back on. Ten of the eleven calls were from Amanda. The messages had become increasingly terse as it had gotten later. In her first message, she was inquiring sweetly if everything was ‘all right’. By the time she left her last, the sweetness had definitely been replaced with a combination of impatience and fear.

“”Okay! I’m getting’ tired of this shit now! Where the fuck are you guys? Anybody? I swear to God if I don’t hear from somebody soon, I’m gonna start calling the hospitals and police and you know what will happen then! Don’t you think I won’t do it, Kevin! “ click.

Kevin rolled his eyes without comment.

“Maybe I’d better call her.” Tristan said, reaching for the phone.

“No. I’ll call her.” Kevin shook his head and sighed and he picked up the receiver. “Christ, we’ll probably have a new onslaught of reporters and camera crews banging down the door any minute. It’s late, Tris. You go on to bed. I’ll be up after I call Hurricane Amanda.”

“Don’t be long.” she smiled and turned to walk away. Then she stopped. “Oh, and Kevin?” Kevin stopped pressing buttons and looked up. “You do awfully good work..” Tristan’s eyes fell to his crotch and she grinned.

“Always room for improvement, Tris.” He answered seriously before wiggling his eyebrows.

“Only if you want to kill me…” she laughed and ran up the stairs.

AJ didn’t know how many times the phone had rung before he managed to bring it to his ear. He didn't speak into the receiver. He just held it up to the side of his face as his head fell back onto the pillow and his eyes closed again.

"AJ? Are you there?" Kevin asked impatiently.

Nothing.

"Answer me, man. Don't go back to sleep."

As soon as Kevin had spoken the words, AJ began to snore softly into the mouthpiece.

"AJ!!!" Kevin shouted.

AJ's eyes flew open. It took him a few seconds to figure out what was happening. He didn't even remember answering the phone.

"Kev? Is that you?" He squinted at the clock beside the bed. "What's the matter? What's wrong?"

Kevin could hear the alarm rising in AJ's voice. "Nothing's wrong, AJ! I'm just looking for Amanda and.."

Kevin was interrupted by another voice coming from AJ's room. He could hear Amanda snarling at AJ in the background.

"Is that Kevin Richardson? Is anything wrong?"

"Kev says 'nothing's wrong'" AJ hissed back at her.

"Give me that God damned phone, AJ! I want to talk to his ass!"

There was a brief silence as the phone was passed to Amanda, but it was long enough for Kevin to get aggravated with Amanda's attitude. After all, he was returning her call…..

"Kevin?" Amanda shouted into the phone.

"Just a minute, Amanda. Let me put my ass on the line for you."

"Ha. Ha. You're pretty damn funny considering it's three o' clock in the morning! Is Tristan okay?"

"Tristan is home with me and…"

"I didn't ask you where the fuck she was, Kevin. I asked you if she was okay!"

Jesus Christ! "Yes, Amanda. Everything has been straightened out. Tristan is fine, okay?" There was no answer. "Amanda? Are you there?"

"Yes. I'm here."

"Well? Anything else?" Kevin asked irritably.

"What about you? Are you okay?"

Kevin shook his head in surrender. Amanda had more mouth than anyone he knew except maybe for AJ. She could be nosy, crude and bitchy but Kevin couldn't stay mad with her. Despite her crusty exterior, she had a soft heart. Although she was in prime bitch form at the moment it was only because she had been worried about them. Both of them.

"Yeah, Amanda. I'm okay, too. Thanks for asking."

"Yeah, yeah…" she answered. "What's the story? Where have you two been? Were you together?" she asked with unmasked curiosity.

Kevin rolled his eyes. "Yeah, we were together. I found Tristan at the Symphony and that's the end of the story, Amanda. I just wanted to let you know that we were home and everything's cool. Now, good-night." Kevin hung up the phone and began to erase the messages. He found one he had forgotten to go back to. He pressed the button and Mason's voice filled the room. Great….

"Kevin? If you're there, pick up the phone right this minute!"

He could almost see Mason stamping his foot. Kevin seemed to be on everybody's shit list today. After a pause, Mason left his cryptic message.

"How come everybody knows what's going on around there but me? I had to hear about the situation from Jack, for God's sake! You'd better call me, Kevin! Oh…nevermind! I'll find you. Tomorrow. You've really hurt my feelings!" Slam!

Kevin jerked his head away from the receiver and frowned, glad they he had retrieved the messages and not Tristan. He really should have told Mason about Tris.

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

Kevin rolled over in his sleep and pressed his body against…….nothing. What the fuck? He opened his eyes and turned to look at the clock. 9:07 AM. When he sat up in bed and glanced around the room, he saw that the bathroom door was closed and he fell back onto the pillow, ready to return to his coma. He had already noticed that Tristan seemed to be spending more time in the bathroom. Pregnant women piss all the time. He'd read that in the book Dr. Malone had given him although the author hadn't put it quite that way. He was just drifting off again when he heard her heave and then choke violently. By the time he had virtually sprung to the bathroom door, she seemed to be gasping for air. The door was locked.

"Tristan! What's wrong, baby? Open the door!" Kevin jiggled the knob in his hand as he shouted. She didn't answer. "TRISTAN?"

"I'm okay, Kevin. Just give me a minute.."

"Let me in! Open the fuckin' door!" he screamed.

Kevin's screaming was silenced by the sound of Tristan gagging and gasping on the other side of the door. Kevin suddenly felt an overabundance of saliva in his own mouth as a feeling of nausea overcame him. He had started to sweat. He was suffering from morning sickness.

"Oh, God…" Tristan moaned softly.

Kevin's legs felt a little wobbly. He pictured Tristan on the floor, leaning over the toilet bowl. Again he remembered the book. Pregnant women are always puking their guts out…

Kevin was determined to be a man about this. "Come on, Tris. Let me in, darlin'. Let me help you."

"There's nothing you can do, Kevin - unless you just want to sit on the side of the tub and watch me puke!" Tristan yelled. "And this is humiliating enough without an audience, if you don't mind!"

No, Kevin really didn’t want to watch her puke. "I could hold you hair…" he offered.

The rather incessant ringing of their door bell interrupted Kevin’s generosity. The ringing was followed by a pounding against the wood.

"You could answer the door…" Tristan sing-songed back to him.

Kevin was torn. The pounding downstairs had started again, demanding his attention. Tristan was heaving again, demanding his sympathy. Shit! Kevin opted for the door. He padded down the stairs to the front door and jerked it open mid-pound. There stood a very angry Mason MacArthur. He was not alone. Jack stood nearby almost cringing. The very angry Mason found himself standing toe to toe with an equally angry Kevin.

"Christ, Mason! Knock the door down, why don't you?" Kevin spat.

Mason's nose rose into the air. "Mind if I come in, Kevin?"

Mason didn't wait for an answer. He brushed past Kevin as if he were the doorman. Jack nodded at Kevin and followed Mason inside.

“Look, Mason…”

Mason’s hand flew up in the air in front of Kevin’s face. It was a not so subtle order for him to shut up. Kevin felt himself bristling. He knew an attack was eminent.

“First, Kevin, let me take a moment to compliment you on your exquisite taste in undergarments.” Mason huffed sarcastically. “That’s a lovely way to greet guests.”

Kevin looked down at himself. He hadn’t though about the fact that he had answered the door in his boxers. That’s okay. He’s not going to get to me… Kevin crossed his arms.

“Well I figured you might approve, Mason. Maybe I should get dressed. I wouldn’t want to turn you on or anything.”

Mason’s face became a little pink. “Soooo sorry, Kevin, but your weak attempt to attack my sexual preferences missed its mark. Believe me when I say that youhave absolutely no reason to worry about turning me on!”

Kevin found himself feeling mildly insulted. His hands went to his hips. “What the fuck’s wrong with me? I get a lot of mail from gay guys!”

Mason looked at the ceiling and rolled his eyes. “Vanity, thy name is Kevin!” he whispered in a staged dramatic tone. Then he glared back at Kevin. “I’m sure you do get a lot of love letters from gay men, Kevin. Especially when they come across those photographs of you in your pink shirts, pearl earrings and sequins!”

Ouch…

“Well, maybe I’d do better if I started wearing nightgowns, like you, Mason!”

Ouch. Ouch…

Things were starting to get a little too witty as far as Jack was concerned. He thought he’d better step into this weird soap opera before permanent damage was done.

“Now, now boys…. Let’s settle down, okay? You two can compare wardrobe notes later, all right? We have some things to talk about.” Jack looked pointedly at the sparring partners. “Is that acceptable, you two?”

“Yeah, I guess…” Kevin mumbled.

“Yes…” Mason nodded.

Jack felt like the mother of two very bad little boys. He pushed them both into the living room and ordered them to sit before he put his ‘manager hat’ on to begin the arbitration. He was about to speak when Mason took the floor.

“Where’s Precious?” he asked, craning his neck as he looked around for her. “Is she still asleep?”

“She’s not feeling well..” Kevin answered. When he saw the alarm in Mason’s eyes, he hastened to add, “Morning sickness.”

Mason’s eyes grew hard. “She’s upstairs sick and you’re down here laying around in your underwear? That’s real nice, Kevin…”

Kevin got pissed. “Well, somebody started pounding on our door at nine AM and wouldn’t stop!”

Mason wouldn’t stop now, either. “Well, it’s your fault she’s sick, Kevin! You should be upstairs! You’re the one who did this to her!”

“Christ, Mason! You make it sound like I beat her or something!” Kevin locked eyes with Mason and gave him a sarcastic smirk as he added, “Believe me, Mason. She didn’t mind ‘what I did to her’….”

Jack thought he could see the first trails of steam coming from Mason’s ears. Oh, Lord… Mason jumped up from the sofa and announced his intentions.

“Well, I’m going upstairs to make sure she’s all right…”

“No, you’re not…” Kevin sneered.

Mason stood for a moment staring into Kevin’s face. The he spun on his heel and hightailed to the stairway. He was halfway there before Kevin realized what had happened.

“God dammit, Mason!” Kevin screamed as he took off after him.

Jack watched in amazement as the two grown men jockeyed for position on the stairs, both trying to get to Tristan first. They reached the bedroom at the same time and spent several seconds stepping in front of each other before the door was finally pushed open. They practically fell over their own feet trying to get inside and then they both stopped. Tristan was lying on her side in the bed, looking small and vulnerable and curled up in a knot, sleeping.

Mason remained in the doorway, watching as Kevin stepped over to the bed and bent over her. His expression was serious as he rested his fingers on her cheek and then her forehead, trying to determine if she was all right. Satisfied, he leaned over and pulled the covers up over her body, tucking them around her shoulders. Then he pushed some wisps of hair from her face and tenderly kissed her cheek, eliciting a contented sigh from Tristan which, in turn, caused Kevin to smile slightly.

Kevin had forgotten all about Mason. When he walked over to his dresser and pulled out some clothes, Mason noticed for the first time, the glimmer of gold on Kevin’s finger. Mason backed quietly out of the door and walked slowly down the stairs. He didn’t have to worry about Tristan any more.

Several minutes passed before Kevin returned to the living room. He had expected some flack about his delay but got none. Mason had made coffee, bagels and orange juice and Kevin considered giving him some shit about helping himself to breakfast, but he didn’t. Kevin sensed a slight shift in Mason’s demeanor - a backing down. He knew better than to think that Mason would back down from him. Despite the often cruel, sarcastic and hostile jabs they exchanged, they did have a common denominator named Tristan. The insults that they often hurled at each other usually served to divert their attention from more serious or painful issues. They used each other to sharpen their claws a bit. It wasn’t a true animosity but more a method to keep either from admitting that they had developed a certain respect for each other. Ego and masculinity joined forces as a defense mechanism. They both had to save face. It was a ‘guy thing’.

“I want you to tell me what’s wrong with Tris.” Mason began. “I have to tell you, Kevin, that it upset me when I found out that there was a problem and you didn’t bother to let me know about it.”

Mason’s tone was calm and even. Kevin noted that Jack had nodded at Mason as if he were approving his remarks. He guessed that Mason had already been coached in the presentation of his concerns. Kevin followed his lead and apologized. His sincerity was genuine and this seemed to appease Mason a great deal. Kevin went on to explain Tristan’s condition in as much detail as he could. When he was finished, Mason was clearly upset.

Kevin expected that Mason would be affected by Tristan’s diagnosis. What he also realized at that moment was that Mason was upset on another level as well. Mason had been Tristan’s assistant, wardrobe consultant, confidant, friend and protector. But when she left the last tour, he felt he had lost his place in her life. He loved her. He felt unneeded and tossed aside - displaced. He was hurt.

Kevin’s armchair analysis of Mason was interrupted when he became aware of Jack’s voice. Jack was reiterating to Mason some of the labels concerns about the potential clash between Kevin’s personal and business conflicts. As an aside, he mentioned a radio interview scheduled for Friday afternoon which would be followed by the presentation of a check to the ‘Save the Music’ campaign.

Kevin sighed and stared past the two men through the French doors. Friday. Tristan’s appointment with Dr. Malone…. He wanted to be there. It was starting already. His eyes traveled back to Mason who sat at the end of the sofa, drumming his fingers on the arm. Shit. Kevin did not really want to do this but he felt like he had to for a number of reasons. It was hard, but he cleared his throat and addressed Mason. Mason jumped and jerked his head towards Kevin, frowning.

“Tristan has a doctor’s appointment on Friday.” Kevin stated simply. “I’ve been going with her…” He heard Jack groan and then continued. “ I was thinking, Mason, that if you were free, maybe you could go with Tristan. You know, make sure everything’s all right.”

Jack brightened considerably and looked at Mason. Mason was still frowning, wondering if this was some kind of trick. He didn’t answer.

“Well?” Kevin asked, a little irritated that Mason didn’t seem to appreciate his gesture. “If you can’t, just say so!”

“You want me to take your place with Tristan?” Mason was still leery.

Now Kevin was frowning. “Noooo… I don’t want you to ‘take my place’ with Tristan…” He saw Mason bristle and forced himself to relax. “Look, Mason. The fact is, that I - that we - are gonna need some help to get through this. I’m going to have to do some heavy-duty juggling. You heard Jack.” Mason nodded. Then Kevin closed his eyes and spit out three words. They were difficult to say. But they were true. “I trust you…”

When Kevin opened his eyes again, Jack was looking back and forth between the two men expectantly. Mason was staring at Kevin at Kevin wide-eyed and in a mild state of shock. Then his eyes started blinking rapidly and Kevin sighed. Aww, jeez…

“Well?’ Kevin repeated gently. “Will you help me take care of her?”

Mason swallowed and straightened his shoulders. “I would be honored.”

Email Grace

Tristan Trilogy - Story III

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

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Fiction by Grace

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