Zenith Falling (31 page)

Joelle didn’t know where to look, what to say, or where to put her hands. She was sitting next to Nick, who had one arm casually slung around her waist, unbeknownst to anyone else, and he nearly kept her there. He was talking, laughing, and looking very at ease with one of his sister’s husbands named Chuck. Chuck sat close, and after introducing himself, shook Joelle’s hand. Then Chuck went into an engaging story about his latest trip rock climbing. Nick was so at ease. He stayed kind of flopped in the chair with her next to him as if it were the most natural thing in the world, despite his sisters’ startled and disapproving looks. He was happy too, just to be there. She saw it. The way he smiled easily, talked with everyone, and deftly switched from one topic to the next.

Then Nick’
s mom called for dinner. Joelle assumed it’d be potluck-style. But no, in the next room, she saw a dining table fit for a castle, big enough for all the adults and older kids. Two smaller card tables held place settings for the rest of the kids. Joelle couldn’t fathom how she would make it through a formal, sit-down dinner. She’d never been to one. Not like this, with a big, noisy,
nosy
family.

It was a family she knew from another lifetime, and another perspective. Nick used to be the guy she wouldn’t look at, whom she ignored, because at sixteen, he was ancient to her, and thus, uninteresting. And now she was there with him, not Trina. Trina did no more th
an glare at her, which was excruciating.

Nick pulled
on her hand and sat her next to him. She moved by rote and hardly looked at anyone. Even Nick. That mattered to Nick. His family was everything to him: more than his company, his success, or his money. As his date, she needed to make a good impression and she sincerely wanted to do that.

The problem was his choice of the most socially inept girl to ever sit down at a crowded table. He picked a girl his family knew facts about, facts which they didn’t like. They were predisposed with
their opinions, and she was too shy to try to change any of them. There was no charm or chatter in Joelle. Right then, there weren’t even any coherent thoughts.

The meal started and all the sisters rose to help bring food to the table. Joelle just sat there, unsure what to say, her legs like concrete. There was no way she could make herself get up to offer her help.

They passed the food, a Mexican layered casserole of cheese, beans and tortillas, with sides of greens and rice. It was heavenly to her taste buds. The steam and aroma rose up from Joelle’s plate, making her mouth water. She ate, but very little, her appetite too hampered by her nerves. She was careful not only to drink politely and eat small bites, but to do so neatly, and quietly put her fork to plate. Everyone else talked, chatted, laughed, and kidded. The kids’ activities were hashed out, and reports of who was doing what in school. Jobs and life, in general, were discussed openly and with startling clarity and intimacy. Except for her. Joelle had a feeling that for once, they knew nothing about what was going on in Nick’s life.

Nick’s sisters glanced at her frequently. When Nick finished eating, he easily leaned back in his chair, and draped his arm
behind Joelle. He brushed his hand absently through her hair, gathering it up in his fist, and letting it go, and all the while, talking to his mother, whose eyes were watching them.

What?
Joelle wanted to ask. What did they think? And why didn’t it bother Nick? The looks. The silences. The tension and awkwardness at Joelle’s end of the table. Why could he boldly sit there, fiddling with her hair as if nothing was going on?

“Well
, I think I’ll get coffee started, and dessert going,” his mother soon said, standing up. The sisters followed suit, and the kids wandered off. The men stayed at the table, leaning back, and discussing sports. Joelle didn’t know what to do. Finally, she got up with a deep breath. Nick was busy talking, and hardly looked up as she took her plate, his, and an empty platter, into the kitchen.

There she found the sisters and
his mother, all collectively working, washing, and storing leftovers. They were in their domain, and she was merely the interloper, without the slightest entertaining or cooking talent.

“Oh
, thank you, Joelle,” Debbie, Nick’s mother said, guiding her towards the sink. Trina was washing, and she glared at Joelle. Joelle went back to the table, and made two more trips. Finally, there was nothing left to do. She gratefully accepted a crisp, white towel to dry pots when Rebecca offered her the white dishrag.

“So... you and Nick?” Sophie asked.

Sure, of course. They wanted to know. She had to say something. “Yes.”

“Interesting. How did that happen after all these years?”

“Uh, he… well, I don’t know. It kind of happened. He gave me a job, and helped me out with some personal matters; and eventually, we went on a date.”

“Hmm, wow… Aren’t you Trina’s age?” Carrie asked.

Joelle wanted to die. Glancing at Trina, she replied, “Yes.”

“So twelve years difference? That doesn’t bother you?”

Trina snorted. “Probably not as much as knowing that Joelle is married to someone else.”

“There isn’t anything Nick doesn’t know,” Joelle finally said after a drawn-out silence.

Trina snapped the sink handle down. “How did you manage it? How did you manage to move in with Erica? And weasel your way into Nick’s life?”

“I didn’t weasel my way anywhere. I ran into him a few times, and he offered me a job, because he knew I needed money. We became friends. And he helped me out when I needed it most. Erica did too. Erica and I became friends, entirely separate from your brother.”

“What kind of help? You needed money? Who better than Nick? I can’t believe he fell for that. You must be one hell of a fuck.”

Silence. The entire room fell into an awful, loud, resounding silence. Her mouth dropped open. She did not expect such a blatant attack.

“He didn’t fall for anything. And when did you become such a nasty, little bitch?” Nick’s voice came from behind them. He pushed open the door to the kitchen as he entered. His tone was ice cold, but quiet. Joelle put down her towel. She knew this was a bad idea. She shouldn’t have been there, disrupting his family. Nick’s family. Nick’s relationship with his own family. She started to pass him, but he simply put his arm out, and brought her closer to him. Trina banged down her fist and walked out the back door.

Sophie’s eyes grew big. “N
ick, Joelle, I’m sorry. She’s just upset. Confused. A little jealous. Worried about you. I mean only because Joelle is married.”

“I don’t need my sister grilling my girlfriend.”

“She’s not your girlfriend. She’s married.”

“She’s separated. All you need to know is that she’s my girlfriend.
And I don’t want your opinions. Your support might be nice for once. Your treating my date with the respect I gave to you and every one of your husbands, whether I liked them or not, would be appreciated. Because let me tell you, I didn’t and don’t like all of your choices. But none of you know which ones I do or do not like, because I would never be so rude as to say.”

“Nick
, wait.” Carrie came forward. “We’re sorry. We’re just worried about you.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“She’s Trina’s old friend. It makes it weird for Trina.”

“And Joelle? Five against one seems a little unfair. Maybe a little weird for her too
, huh? I know she’s married. I know how old she is. I know exactly why I’m with Joelle Williams. And I know exactly who and what she is. And whether any of you ever do or see, it doesn’t matter. But don’t think for a second I’m going to let any, or all of you, bully her. Is there anything else you’d like to say about her?”

His piercing eyes went right through his sisters. Joelle dropped her head; she couldn’t watch. She felt horrible.
He took her hand. “Come on, Joelle, let’s get out of here.”

“Don’t leave. Please. We’ll stop. We’d really like you two to stay,” Nick’s mom said as she rushed forward.

He stopped and glanced down at her. Then he said quietly, “That’s up to Joelle.”

Joelle looked around, stricken, unsure of what to say. She wanted nothing more th
an to leave. But if she did, they’d win. They’d have her as the villain who drove Nick away from them. Taking their beloved brother and son away. If she stayed, they’d look petty and small. So she stayed.

“Well
, let’s go join the kids and guys.”

“Fine,” Nick said
and didn’t let go of her hand again.

Finally, the evening ended, and it was okay to leave. Joelle nearly bolted up and out before she was caught at the door by Nick’s mother. Nick, meanwhile, got pulled away by his eight
-year-old niece.

“I’ve never seen Nick like he is with you.”

“Like what?” Joelle asked wearily.

“Happy. Nick seems very happy with you.”

Joelle said nothing, eyeing his mother.

“I’m sorry about my daughters. They think of Nick as theirs. He was more a father to the younger two th
an a brother. It’s hard for them to let him go.”

“I understand. I doubt he’ll ever drift away from any of them.”

“True. We just don’t want to see Nick hurt.”

And the unspoken threat was: Joelle would hurt him. Joelle picked up her jacket without answering. Glad,
and relieved when Nick came through the hall and hugged his mother, Joelle could finally escape the lair of Nick’s women.

She
was quiet on the way home, thinking about his mother and his sisters. How could she get mad at them? Of course, they were worried about who she was, and what she might do to Nick. She was a terrible person for what she was doing. They just pointed out the truth Nick refused to see. She was the worst thing to ever walk into Nick’s life, his bed, and now his family.
She was married
. She tried hard to ignore that, and pretend it wasn’t a fact. Pretend it didn’t matter when she was holding onto Nick’s neck, sitting beside him, having her heart leap at the sound of his voice over the phone. But it did matter. It mattered more than everything else. And worse, it mattered the most to everyone else.

Except to Nick. It never mattered to Nick. He just let her have the time and space she needed. Something no one else ever gave her, or showed her she needed. How could it be so wrong with Nick, when he was the only thing in her entire life to feel so right?

Nick walked into his penthouse and found the lights on, as well as the TV, and he could smell something cooking. He threw his coat on the couch, and set his briefcase next to the door as he headed down the hallway to his kitchen, assuming it was Joelle. He found her in the kitchen, standing with her back to him, at the sink, running water over a pan. What looked to be dinner was heaped in the sink, now a wet, congealed, indistinguishable mess.

“Joelle?”

She stiffened. Turned. Glared. “Where have you been?”

“Been? At work.”

“Yeah, and it’s now ten o’clock at night! Here’s the stupid dinner I made you. It’s long past ruined.” She slammed the faucet down, and shut the water off before passing him in an enraged flurry. He glanced at the sink, then at Joelle, utterly perplexed. What the hell?

Joelle had remained moody ever since last weekend’s family dinner. Nick tried to get her to talk to him, but she wouldn’t
. She simply pressed her lips together, scowled at him, and turned away. So, as was customary with her, he backed off, and gave her more space. He called, but didn’t insist on seeing her. Now, she’d unexpectedly come over to his place and cooked dinner, with no warning or mention of it, and got mad that he came home at what she considered too late an hour?

“What am I missing
?”

“You missed everything. How could you not? You think nine or ten o’clock at night is a normal, decent time to come home from work?”

“It is for me.”

“Great. So instead of being with a guy who won’t work, I choose one who does nothing but work, and is never here. I made your stupid dinner, and you know why? Because we met a year ago today. I thought I’d surprise you. But when are you ever here for me to bother doing it?”

“Slow down. I had no idea that today was anything, but today. You could have called me and asked me to come home. You know I would have.”

“That’s just it. You’re never here unless you have specific plans. A family dinner, friends, me. But otherwise, you
’re working, incessantly. You’re a stupid workaholic, Nick.”

H
is head started to throb and he pressed a finger to his temple. “Yeah, I am. I’m a workaholic. And you know what? I’m not sorry about that. I’ve never had a reason not to work as much as I want. And you know what’s more? I still don’t have a reason to stop. Because that would mean I was in a relationship, which is not something I can claim now, is it? I give you every moment of my spare time. I make time, anytime you request it. But cut back? Slow down? Why should I, Joelle? You give me one reason why I should make any more concessions in my life to a woman who won’t commit to me, period. You’re the one who can’t decide what I mean to you.”

Joelle stopped pacing
dead in her tracks, and scowled at him. “I don’t–”

“You don’t know what to do. Don’t you think I fucking know
that by now? That I pursue you? That you can’t even once manage to come to me on your own free will? You can’t get over being nervous around me, scared of me, of my lifestyle, and everything I represent to you. Don’t you think I know all that? I’m risking as much as I can with you, I’m waiting for you to come around. But I’m not changing anymore. I can’t. I won’t. And you dare to get mad at me for that? What more do you want from me?”

He
went into his bedroom, slamming the door on her, and for once, not pursuing her, or worrying about her. He was finally good and furious at her, as well as himself for putting up with her, and their relationship that was or wasn’t. He sat down on his bed.

She opened the door and c
rept in. She could be as quiet as a mouse when she wanted to. “What?” he snapped, not turning his head to look at her, and certainly not in the mood for her issues. Her shyness bothered him. She bothered him… period. He simply could not muster enough concern to comfort
her.

“I never told you the day we met up again, was actually my twenty-third birthday. I went home that night, and no one remembered it. No one noticed. But I remembered it. I remembered seeing you again.”

He turned his body so he could see her, and let out a long sigh. “It’s your birthday today?”

“Yes.”

He shook his head, looking down between his feet. “You might have just told me. We could have made plans. How could I know that?”

She shrugged. “I don’t care about the birthday. I just wanted to surprise you for once. To do something nice for you just once. And pursue you for once.”

He shook his head, feeling so tired. “Now I see… And I wasn’t here. Like Rob was never there for you on your birthday.”

She came forward
and across the bed and reached out for his neck, as she crawled into his lap like a child might with her father, seeking comfort. He hated his inability to resist her. His arms automatically wrapped around her, and he held her. Hers locked around his neck and she pressed her face into his chest. She could always manage to fracture his heart. No matter how mad he was at her, or how hurt he was; and despite how tired he’d become from trying to be with her, she could always get through to him. Because he was in love with her… and he understood her, even when he didn’t feel like it.

“Yes. He was never there.
But I knew you’d be here anytime I asked. I’m sorry, Nick. I should have just asked you.”

He went still. She was apologizing to him! At long last, she realized that he wasn’t Rob. He let out a relieved breath.
“So, what did you cook?”

“Nothing. I tried roasting a chicken. It probably would have tasted bad anyway.”

“You could have put in the fridge, you know. You didn’t have to throw it under the faucet.”

“Much more dramatic that way though.”

He chuckled. “Why do I bring out your bad temper with little or no effort?”

“Because you allow me to show it. I can get mad at you, and you will stay here, you won’t leave,” she paused, looking up, “will you?”

“Yes. I’m still here. I’ll be here as long as you want me to be.”

Tears filled her eyes as she smiled shyly up at him, and buried her head into his shirt. She ruined more than one of his dress shirts with mascara. She often hid her face in his chest, so he gladly threw the stained shirts away. She could be the most infuriating, narrow-minded, rude person he’d ever met in one moment, and the sweetest, shyest, most in need of his love, woman in the next. She was, as always, a complete and utter contradiction.

“You turned twenty-four, huh? Almost the right age for me.”

She peeked up at him.
“When did you turn thirty-six?”

“January twenty-sixth
.”

“You didn’t tell me.”

“We weren’t talking then. Don’t worry, my mother and sisters had a big dinner for me. I’m sure you’re sorry you missed it.”

“Have you talked to your sisters yet?”

“About you? No. And I won’t. It isn’t for them to discuss or criticize. I am not seeking their approval.”

“I hate to come between you and them. Especially, you and Trina.”

“You haven’t. They’re still there, and I’m still there for them.”

“I’m sorry for everything I caused.”

He knew that. He knew she was always sorry. It had only been six months since Joelle showed up on his doorstep, beaten up, abandoned, and confused. She had a lifetime of neglect and self-doubt to work through. She could only claim to have felt healthy and vital again, for about three months. She wasn’t deliberately trying to hurt him, annoy him, or use him.

As he well knew, Joelle was only ever trying to survive. And she was trying harder than
anyone he’d ever met to fulfill whatever potential she had. All the while, however, she suffered from extreme lack of confidence and feared she was the worst. She didn’t believe she deserved anything decent; so naturally, it would be a long time before she actually believed it.

“Don’t be sorry. Just
be here. Okay? Just be here. That’s all I ask of you.”

“There’s more.”

“Okay. What?”

“We got married on my birthday.”

“It’s your anniversary too?” he said, his tone devoid of emotion.

“Yes. I married Rob
five years ago today.”

“And yet, you made me dinner?”

“I don’t know what I was doing. Or even thinking.”

“Did you talk to him?”
Nick purposely never asked about her husband. He didn’t know if she saw Rob, or talked to him on a nightly basis. He never asked and she never said.

“No. He sent me something.”

“What?”

“Just a CD.”

He grunted. “Let me guess… it’s of a new song he wrote and sang about you?”

“Yes.”

“And still you’re here.”

“Yes.” But he detected that she didn’t really know where she was, or who she was by her inconsistent tone.

“Are you staying the night?”

“Yes. If you don’t mind.”

“I never mind.”

She let out a breath.
“Nick?”

“What?”

“I wish I wasn’t me. You know, this… confused. I wish I’d met you first. I wish–”

“You did meet me first
. That’s the ironic part. And I’m glad you’re you. The only thing I ever want you to change is your marital status.”

Nick didn’t know what to do with her latest revelation.
Her anniversary AND her birthday
. Yet here she was, spending it with him. She always came to him, anytime she was uncertain or feeling sad, bad, or needy. She also sought him out when she felt excited or happy.
She always came to him.
Why couldn’t she see how good they were together? How good they were for each other? There was nothing fucked up about them or their relationship, nothing except her marriage to Rob Williams.