Helpless (10 page)

             
When he is in London, he doesn’t call me each day.  He doesn’t call at all, actually.  He makes plans when he leaves for the next time and then just shows up.  When he is off to Berlin, he calls me every night.  Just a brief talk.  Just letting me know he is thinking of me.

             
This is a lot less than I hear that most people in a relationship talk, but for me it is heavenly.  Suddenly there is someone solid in my life.  Someone who isn’t telling me about all the things I have to change to make myself better.  In fact, there have been a few times when I bring up things like my uneven tan, or gaining weight or my lack of female friends.  Jason cuts me off.  He actually got pushy with me once, telling me to stop thinking like that. 

             
Jason says that people can get into a loop of thinking negatively, and then what we tell ourselves starts to come true.  He pointed out how worried I was about my legs being an unnoticeable shade of white darker than my pale arms.  He insisted that no one would notice, and that within days the color evened out anyway.  With a rare frown on his face he got me to admit that days of worry over this were wasted when it was something that always faded away in days with or without my attention and worry.  Therefore, things like this were things I should just put more lotion on and then totally push from my mind. 

             
I was resistant at first, thinking he didn’t know the pressures of my particular career.  But the slight coloring on my legs did fade away in a few days.  I wasn’t able to do anything but put lotion on them anyway.  Well, lotion and bronzer on my arms to try to darken them up a shade to match my legs.  Jason was right, I worried for days, and it all worked out.  Maybe I can let some other things just work out on their own like that.  But they all seem so important to my career.  Jason was right, so I guess I’ll try harder to take his advice when he brings something else like that up.

             
After three months of bliss, I am not going to argue with success. 

             
Today I am sitting on my balcony, smelling early fall in the air.  I’m flying to Jamaica for my next shoot.  There was such good feedback from my bikini cover, that instead of a simple beach background shoot that was scheduled months ago; I am doing beach, jungle and hotel shots.  I’ll be gone for just over a full week.  I finish my coffee and head inside to pack.

             
As I get my toiletries in plastic baggies my hand brushes the bottle with my boosters.  I start.  I realize I haven’t had any boosters for two months.  I had taken them sometimes when Jason first came back from Berlin to settle my nerves.  Then I just forgot about them.  I try to push down the vision of me breaking out of the hospital with an IV in my arm.  Could I have been that girl just a few months ago?  And now I’m not even taking any?  I do what I have learned from my new boyfriend, I push the thoughts of my being dependent on drugs out of my mind and keep on with my packing.

             
This shoot is exhausting, my legs ache from standing so long; but the pictures have come out wonderful again.  Aldo says there is serious talk now of my being picked up as a spokesperson along with a celeb for a makeup line.  I’m not sure how well my super-white skin will work for a large makeup line, but I’m up for anything that headlines me, and working with a TV or movie celeb is going to great things for my reputation. 

             
Aldo is booking Christmas shoots already.  We start doing those in early September, so I’ll be extremely busy for the next month.  I rub my feet and relax in my hotel room.  I left the wrap party early, now I am just relaxing before bed, waiting for my short phone call.  I guess it is my lifeline now.  Then a thought slams into my mind.  Oh God!  What am I going to do about the holidays? 

             
I usually book a trip to Aspen and spend the time in the midst of A-listers.  I have a pre-holiday dinner with Daddy and take off so I get to spend the day in the middle of big and bustling crowds around the exclusive ski resort.  But now there is Jason.  I sure don’t want him around my dad, I don’t see him enjoying the crush and madness of Aspen.

             
I frown.  Well, can’t solve it now.  I’m not going to bring it up on the phone, so I’ll wait until Jason is in London and see what his plans for the holidays are. 

             
Then I realize that while I have kept Jason away from my own parents and not really talked about them; he has done the same.  No talk at all about his family.  Just brief details about his investments.  All we do is talk about our current thoughts and feelings and the things going on in the world right now.  About how we would react or how we would do certain things differently than how other people are handling things—but nothing about our past.  Now that I think about that, this seems really odd.

             
I bet Jason is hiding something too.  Well, I don’t mind who or what his parents are.  I know better than anyone that we don’t choose our parents, we get what we get.  I’m falling in love with him because of who he is and how he treats me, mostly for how I feel when I am with him.  Is that selfish?  I don’t know, but that is how I feel right now.

             
I fall asleep in the strange hotel room thinking of how I will forgive Jason for keeping his secrets from me.  That I will mention how he was not angry with me when I told him my real name wasn’t Leah, that it was only my middle name and the name I used on the website.  Actually he not only wasn’t mad at me, he said that was a very good idea and good to keep all my personal information like my name, job and where I lived totally a secret from the site and any strangers. 

             
So I can do the same for him.  When he finally comes clean about whatever he is embarrassed about or ashamed of, I will generously forgive him and make him feel my love and understanding.  I actually get to be the good guy, so now I am looking forward to being able to show him how caring I can be. 

             
Still, when Jason hits town he acts like normal, so I don’t have a chance to bring up my forgiveness right away.  I am not sure how to bring it up, I realize I have never been in any relationship where I really cared about the other person, cared how they would feel about a touch situation; that included my two failed relationships as well as family and friends.  Not one person has ever been close enough where I would reach out and help them through a hard time.  So I am at a loss as how to bring up I know he is hiding something, and that I am not going to be judgmental.  That he will feel better after he tells me.  Well, I’ll let it go for now and enjoy the night.

             
Late September in London is really a lovely time.  The heat of summer is gone.  The rain seems to let up for a little bit, and strolling in the city is comfortable and fun.  Tonight Jason has booked us in a murder/mystery dinner and interactive play.  I rolled my eyes at first.  Sounded really cheesy.  But now we are being welcomed into an old mansion by a butler and stand in the foyer with a glass of Champaign and look at a few other couples her for the fun also.  I start to feel a little excitement thinking any one of them could be the murderer we are supposed to clue out. 

             
For the night I decided to wear a full length halter dress.  Full length because it is slightly chilly, but also I want a long skirt to help cover me in case I have to run and I fall or trip or whatever.  I made sure my panties match the rust red color of the dress.  I often do not wear a bra, but tonight I have the same color bra on in a  strapless model.  It smushed my boobs, so they are not as showcased as I usually like, but by now I know that I don’t have to look perfect for Jason, he still shows me how much he desires me.  It is kind of liberating to wear the types of clothes I want and not worry that I am picking the perfect panties, perfect bra and flawless outfit.  I can just put on what is going to feel and function the best for me and go.

             
As I sip my bubbly drink, more couples arrive.   I’m not good at simple chit chat with strangers, but everyone else seems to be in an excited and good mood and it seems easy to chat and talk about the mansion and the décor and when we think we will encounter “the dead body.”  Soon we are all talking like a group of friends.  They seem impressed but not overly so that I am a supermodel, laughing that I certainly have the looks for it and then asking if I have ever been to a mystery night like this.  So they nod about my career and then go on to the fun stuff.  Interesting.  I like it.  I am having fun and I am not the center of attention. 

             
I am smiling and so is Jason as we are led into the formal dining room and sit around a huge oak table.  We don’t have to wait long for the clues to begin.  There is a head where the prime rib should have been which is reveled when the cover is pulled off by a waitress who screams and faints.  We all crowd around and the fun begins.

             
Cheesy start?  Well it was pretty silly and obvious.  Head served up in a platter.  I can’t explain how that actually added to the fun and excitement.  I guess we needed something familiar to start us off. 

             
I admit some of the time it was a little creepy, and then I would press up against Jason so that he was covering my back.  We wondered through the whole mansion, finding body parts here and there and trying to put together clues.  No one stood out as a leader, but we all seemed to move in a human herd by silent agreement.  Which was fine, I was middle of the pack with my wonderful boyfriend right behind me. 

             
Some accountant solved the murder and held the mole who was pretending to be a fellow diner at candlestick point until the butler “called the police” and he was taken away.   We all laughed and were taken back to the dining room for a delicious dessert.  Again, I was just one of a crowd that night, finding a clue or two like all the rest, but not standing out.  I can’t believe I had so much fun and laughed and screamed so much. 

             
I am actually so tired on the way home that I kick off my shoes and recline my little leather seat back.  I fall asleep with a smile on my lips.  Something wakes me up.  Oh, we are completely still.  I open my eyes and see Jason staring at me.  I move my head a little in his direction.

             
“Did you have fun tonight?”

             
“Oh, yes.  That was a hoot!  I think we should do that again.”

             
“We really should, they only have them once a month.  I thought you would like a group of people like that:  smart and still fun-loving.  They all seemed to like you.”  He is stroking my arm softly.

             
“I know, I can’t believe how easy they were to talk to when I thought at first we would have nothing in common.”

             
“You just have to pick the right type of people to hang out with.  You will find a lot of people in this world are people you can like, and trust.” 

             
I nod.  He continues, “So we maybe can catch a few a year when our schedules work out.  I think that would be fun too.” 

             
I love when he drops some serious thoughts and then lets it go and starts talking about normal things and making plans again.  It helps me by giving me time to think about what he said and how it relates to me.  I’ll have to figure out why I had such a good time tonight with a roomful of strangers when I have no idea if they are rich, or famous, or anything like that.  All I knew was their thoughts and expectations about the night.  It was fun, there was no pressure or attention on me, and yet I felt like I was a part of the whole group.

             
We capped the night off with a walk in Piccadilly Circus and then home for some sweet, slow, love making.  I drift off to sleep in a state of calm that I don’t remember I have ever felt before.

I’ve been in London a week now.  Holiday plans are weighing on my mind, even though they are two months off.   Dad’s called me a few times now; I keep waiting until I know he is on a film set or off at golf and leave a message in response to whatever message he leaves me.  I know I’m being a coward, but I really want to talk to
Jason first, even before I tell my dad about Jason and I because I am not sure how Dad will react to my being in a real relationship.  I think the worse thing would be Dad not caring and not reacting at all. 

             
Mom’s calls are easier.  She’s been calling about once a month now, and she is happy to do all the talking.  I am happy to let her.  I’ll tell her about my relationship after I see how Dad reacts.

             
Jason’s calls are still short and sweet and they are now like my oxygen.  One little call and I can get through the next 24 hours with no problem.  He is due in later this week.  I make an appointment at the spa for a body wrap tomorrow.  I plan to sweat any extra pounds out of me and drink cucumber juice all day.

             
There’s a knock on my door!   That can only be Jason or Dad; George would call up before letting anyone else past his door.  My heart is beating faster as I hope it is Jason.  I rush to the door.

             
There is Heath.  Great.