Zenith Falling (21 page)

“I told you once before: your job’s not on the line for anything personal. Your job is between you and Steve Applebaum. He has the only authority over you.”

“Really?”

“Really. Look, I see what you’re saying. I overstepped by paying for your car and the hospital bill; I was controlling you like Rob does. When I merely intended to help you, instead I was taking over for you. I didn’t see it before, but I do now. I’m backing off. I promise. Just
… go live with Erica. Stay there. Be safe. Be free. Figure out your life, your marriage and yourself.”

Joelle regarded him, searching for an ulterior motive. Finally, she said, “I’m going to work tomorrow. I decided to say I was in a car accident to explain my bruises. No more hiding.”

“Good. You shouldn’t hide.”

“Okay
, then.”

Joelle turned towards her room. “Hey
, Joelle?”

“What?”

“You’re not alone anymore. You have Erica. And you have me. You’ll always have me, even if you don’t want to see me right now.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to.”

He smiled. “You don’t want to see me right now.”

She looked at him, then away. “No, I don’t. But thank you. For
everything. Right down to now. Just… thank you.”

“Don’t thank me anymore. Just get better. For me. For yourself.”
For us.
He didn’t say
it
. He didn’t voice his hope for her to get better so someday he could tell her he just might be in love with her.

Erica’s offer to live at her place was the only reason Joelle didn’t feel like she had to go back to Rob. Erica was happy to give Joelle the ability to take her time, precious, wonderful, liberating time. Despite Joelle living in Erica’s beautiful condo, only two floors down from Nick’s penthouse, it might as well have been
a few miles. Erica’s condo was every bit as opulent, expensive, and elegant as Nick’s, but with feminine appeal and softness. It had soft lines with lemony and other citrus colors in the main living room, as well as the kitchen. Bright whites and lots of light filled up her entire condo. It was like waking up in a sunroom every day and symbolically a mirror reflection of Erica’s personality.

It was nothing like Joelle ever expected. Not her friendship with Erica Heathersby, or living in this wonderful place w
here she felt safe, secure, and most of all, free. She loved it, and treasured it, and basked in its healing properties.

Erica asked Joelle to be her roommate after explaining that she and Nick were done, still friends, but over
. Erica’s offer gave her a choice and an alternative between Rob and her old life and the chance at a new one.

And that’s just what it turned out to be. Joelle took her meager belongings down to Erica’s condo. It was only a short elevator ride, and almost made Joelle laugh. Who’d have guessed that?

Erica had a home office, and a spare room, which she gave to Joelle. When Joelle unpacked in the pink and purple bedroom, she felt like it was the childhood bedroom she was always denied, but nevertheless longed for. This was a grown-up version. It had clean, white carpet, lavender window treatments, and a pink and lavender flower covered bedspread. It smelled of air freshener, fabric softener, and being new. Pure femininity.

After years of all the men, the harshness, the ugliness, the beer bottles and burps, Joelle’s world had become floral prints and fresh perfume. It
represented all the softness, understanding, kindness and friendship, honest to God friendship, with Erica Heathersby, which was vastly improving her life.

Joelle’s tattoos and dark-haired goth looks, contrasted harshly against the soft  world Erica managed to create in her condo. With
Erica, everything was okay, and Joelle could be exactly who she was. Erica never made snide innuendos, or catty, hurtful, thoughtless remarks. She talked as though she really cared and didn’t judge or push. She was a friend, and a sister, like Joelle never imagined she’d ever meet or experience. How could Nick have let Erica go? But Erica seemed totally at peace with it, and even glad that Joelle chose to live with her.

Joelle
didn’t understand the reasons why Erica asked her to stay there. Or why Erica wanted to help her. What Erica saw in her was beyond Joelle’s comprehension. Joelle knew that she was the lucky one, Erica the crazy one. But she needed to use this chance to start a new and different life, more than she ever needed anything. She could never repay Erica for all the kindness and generosity Erica happily showed toward her.

Joelle went to work and found little fuss was made about her bruised face. The car accident kept people from pressing,
and seemed quite believable. Except for Bev. She eyed Joelle with her lips pursed, and her eyes said she knew better. But she kindly, thankfully kept her thoughts to herself. This time, Joelle came to work well fed, well slept, and well rested. She’d never gotten up to go to work feeling so good before. Or so comfortable. She was glad to be there. And glad, for once, to go home. Most of all, she was glad to be accountable to no one. Even Erica didn’t even keep tabs on her.

Joelle started going downtown more often. Exploring an area of upscale money and commerce, at which she’d formerly turned her nose up, and called commercial and shallow, now seemed interesting and fun. She went into pretty coffee houses
and quaint cafes. She explored the shops, wading through clothes she’d never buy, interior decorating items she’d never use, along with yarn stores, and hobby stores she’d never heard of, but nonetheless enjoyed browsing in. It was interesting and different and it took her away from herself.

She ate out sometimes, and frequented upscale bars that didn’t hurt her ears with piercing music and thick smoke. She sat at tables all alone for the first time in her life. Sometimes she even brought her work with her. Others, she just sat there, observing the world around her. The key was: she was by herself.
And to her continuing shock, and delight, that was okay.

She didn’t hate anything. There was nothing to dread, nothing she felt she had to survive. It was quiet. Her entire life had become quiet. And it was beautiful. She felt free, and what? Nothing. She felt nothing sometimes. Just the pleasure of going through her day, her schedule, and her routine. After months of hopeless depression, fatigue, and utter dread of going home, suddenly, she felt nothing.
She passed Nick sometimes at work. But he was back at his role, in his sphere. He was Nick at a distance again. Nick as her boss, the serious, tight-assed, powerful CEO who didn’t have time for young, weird, little girls like her.

She was glad of that. Glad to be left alone. No reasons or explanations necessary. To anyone. To Nick. To Rob. To Erica. Even to herself. She had nothing and no one to explain herself to or fight against to survive.

She was free for the first time in her life, and it didn’t hurt. That was most important. It didn’t hurt her. It didn’t confuse her. She was just there. Wonderfully, quietly, there.

One day, Joelle opened Erica’s front door and found Spike standing there. It was a cool, cloudy Saturday and Joelle was at home, enjoying the luxury of free time. She’d lately tried some knitting, but it didn’t go as well as she hoped. She decided to see about taking a class, after spotting an advertisement for knitting classes at a tiny shop down the street.

She
was disappointed to have her day interrupted by a face from her past. By any of them. By men, in general. She feared that Rob sent Spike to check up on her, and see if she was with Nick, no doubt. Joelle sighed, she didn’t want any drama in her life right now.

“Can I come in?”

“Rob tell you I was here?”

“Yes. May I?”

Joelle opened the door wider and allowed Spike’s thin frame to pass through. He almost had to dip his head under the doorway. His long, black coat billowed around him like the dark cape of a super hero, or villain. Most people would assume he was a villain. He had such extremely sharpened hair, extreme makeup, extreme everything, but Joelle knew he was just hiding from everyone and everything. Even his name. He was Spike so he could forget his former identity as Spencer Mattox, and the life Spencer had to endure until he was sixteen years old.

Spike wore black, as usual. His hair, however, wasn’t quite as dramatic; spiked, of course, but not quite as sharp. His face was devoid of any goth makeup. He had no tattoos, because he preferred makeup. Joelle sometimes wondered what was wrong with all of them, the band members of
Zenith
, that they so felt the compulsion to fry their hair, color their faces, and permanently mar their bodies just to look different than everyone else. Why did they all try so hard to look freaky and scary, in order to push everyone else away from them?

Spike looked around the condo. “Is your friend here?”

“Who? Erica? No, she’s at the hospital. She’s a doctor, you know. Delivers babies.”

“She? Erica is who you’re living with now? Your boss’s girlfriend?”

“No. Erica and Nick broke up; and for some reason, she liked me, and asked me to live here.”

“Not surprising. You’re the only one who doesn’t like you.”

“And everyone would like you if you’d quit trying to scare them into submission at first glance.”

“I miss you.”

“Me too,” Joelle said, smiling. They’d always said exactly what they felt to each other. Something Rob and she never attained. Why was Spike so interested in Erica’s whereabouts? If Erica weren’t the complete everything that Spike loathed, she’d almost think he had an interest in her. But no, that was too far-fetched, even for Joelle to imagine.

“So
, Spike, what brought you here?”

“It’s been three months, and Rob won’t talk about you. I gather things are no different.”

“No. They’re not. We’re separated.”

“
Zenith
is over. The band broke up. Mitch and Kenny moved out.”

“What? What do you mean over? You can’t give up on
Zenith
. Not like that. That’s all Rob has left.”

“That’s what was killing him
, Joelle. It’s over. For now. Forever maybe. Whatever.”

Joelle let a breath out. God, she never intended for the band to break up, or for Rob’s dreams to crumble to dust. Ashes. Death.

Spike continued, “He’s been working every day at a car wash. I know it’s not much, but he’s been doing it all the same. And he’s been trying hard to keep clean. We even vacuumed the house. Emptied the trash, opened some windows. It’s... wow, it’s made a vast difference. Things were much worse than I realized.”

“Everything was worse than we all realized.”

“I should have been there for you. I should have intervened sooner, and prevented it from happening. I’m sorry for that.”

“I was there too
, Spike, I didn’t stop it either. Any of it.”

“I just wanted you to know. After what you went through, and what we did to you, things have changed. Or at least, we’re making an effort to change them.”

“Thank you for telling me. But
Zenith
, you can’t give up on it. What about you?”

Spike shrugged. “I’ll be okay. Rob saved my life once by taking me away from my home, and letting me run away with him, and live on the streets. That actually saved my life. I’ve got to save Rob’s now. I can do that.
Zenith
isn’t worth his life. And that life will eventually kill him.”

“I know,” Joelle said softly. “I wish I could help, or be there; but I can’t.”

“No, Nick saved your life by getting you out. Just like Rob once saved me. Sometimes, leaving a situation is the best thing. Saves not only the person who leaves, but the one who was left behind. That’s you two. Just take care of yourself. That’s all I want for you. Not for Nick or Rob, or anyone else. Take care of yourself first. Always. Promise me that.”

“I am. For once, I am. And it’s going quite well. Surprisingly.”

“Not surprisingly. Like I said, only you don’t like you.”

“I’m getting there. I think.”

“I just wanted you to know things were a lot better. Don’t feel guilty, or bad, or look back at us. I’ll take care of Rob; you just take care of yourself.”

“Thank you,” she said, her throat closing with emotion. Spike didn’t have a clue how much
he’d given her today: permission to heal, and not feel guilty at being relieved she wasn’t back home or dealing with Rob anymore.

After Spike left, Joelle leaned against the front door, trying to decide how she felt about
Zenith
ending. All those years,
Zenith
meant everything to her, to Rob, to Spike, and now, poof! It was nothing. It was done. Broken up. Rob’s failed mission, his talent wasted. God, it wasn’t fair.

But it wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t her fight. Not right now, it wasn’t. Maybe it never would be again, or maybe it would be in a month. She didn’t know. Not yet. She only knew she wasn’t ready to go back yet, or to move forward. She was just l
iving in the present, for herself, and no one else.