A Life More Complete (9 page)

“Someday I’m going to be a mom,” she
says and tears form in her eyes.

“I know.” I grab her and pull her to
me and kiss her cheek. “Love you, baby girl.”

“Love you, too, Krissy. I love it
here. Thanks for bringing me. Do you think Gia would care if I never went home?”

“I feel the same way every time I
visit. I don’t know what it is, but it’s wonderful.”

The three days we spend at Gia’s fly
by far too fast and I feel forced out the door when it is time to leave. Not by
Gia or David, or even Trini, but by the looming black hole that waits when I
return. My job. The only time I picked up my phone was to text Ben and I fought
the urge to check my email or listen to my voicemail. The anxiety is pooling
and I know by the time I arrive home it will be out of control. I hug Gia,
David and the kids good-bye, promising I’ll be back soon and this time I’ll
make good on that promise. Being with Gia made me look at things in a new
light. Only three times in my life did I make a conscious decision to forgo my
job and my clients for someone else. The birth of Gia’s three kids were the
only times I dropped everything and hid from the public. Those were three of
the happiest times in my life, and if that’s any indication of how my life
should be, then that’s the choice I’m going to make. Gia cries as we drive off
and so do I.

Trini and I have a three-hour ride
back to Chicago and then a four-hour flight to Los Angeles. Neither of us speaks
of the reason for the trip, but the conversation flows easily on both our
parts. Trini talks fast and sounds like the eighteen year old that she is. She
can’t stop talking about how wonderful Gia is and how lucky I am to have a
friend like her and how amazing it is that we’re still friends after so many
years.

“I don’t have any real friends. I
basically bought all my friends and they still don’t stick around.” She says it
so matter of fact that I can feel the pain through her words. “You’re the only
friend I have who’s lasted more than a few months and I pay you.”

“I told you before. I am your friend
and not because you pay me. We’ve been through a lot together.”

“Thank you, but it’s not the same. You
have Gia and Ben and they know you better than anyone. You can be yourself. I
saw it. You were a different person, free and happy. I saw your real smile,
your real laugh. You’re not happy and I know I’m part of that.”

“We are friends, but unfortunately
you’re part of my job too, and I hate my job. That doesn’t mean I hate you or
feel differently about you because you’re attached to it. And anyway, you have Luke.
It’s been what, two years now?”

“You can’t be serious?” She looks at
me with wide eyes and disgust. “I’m not stupid. I don’t love Luke and I never
will. He’s an asshole, but he understands my career and for some reason I can’t
walk away from him, even after what happened.”

“At least you can admit it. I spent a
long time with a guy who treated me like shit, but I couldn’t admit it to
myself. I guess I thought I deserved it in some way.”

“I can’t even imagine that. You are
so, I don’t know, assertive?” she says questioning her words.

“That’s not really me. My job has made
me that way. In my private life I’m much more reserved.”

“And I guess my job has hardened me.”
She shudders a little and her mouth turns down. I watch her face fall and know
that this business has ruined her, possibly beyond repair.

“You’re still young. You have time to
find yourself, find a good guy, be happy. You know, the basics.” I smile at
her, but the look on her face tells me she knows it’s my fake one. I can’t hide
from her anymore.

“You’re full of shit. There is no way
you can pull your publicist crap on me anymore, not after I saw what you’re
really like. You can bet your ass I’m gonna call you on it, too.”

“At least you know, now. We can fake
it together.”

After a delay in Chicago, which
pushed our arrival back several hours, we finally arrive back in L.A.. The
delay makes me anxious. It puts more time in between being able to see Ben. It has
taken me far too long to realize he is exactly what I’ve wanted and as the
minutes pass I don’t want to wait for what is to come. My legs bounce on their
own accord; I chew my bottom lip nervously and pick my cuticles till they bleed.
I finally pull into my driveway and kiss Trini good-bye without ever leaving
the car.

“Where are you going?” she asks,
puzzled.

“Ben’s.” I smile backing out before
she’s even in her car. She smiles and shakes her head. She cups her hands
around her mouth and yells, “Behave yourself!” I wave to her out the window and
she blows me a kiss.

Ben’s house is still lit up when I
pull into the driveway. I check the door and it’s locked, so I silently push my
key in and unlock the door, letting myself in.

“Ben?” I call quietly. He rounds the
corner a few seconds later. Standing in the doorway to the kitchen wearing
boxer briefs. He looks tired and runs his hand through his hair. When his eyes
finally meet mine his mouth falls open in surprise and I run to him. I jump
into his arms wrapping my legs around his waist. I can’t stop kissing him, my
lips press firmly against his, my tongue moving with ease in his mouth. I run
my hands through his hair and down his chest and back up again. He sets me on
the table and I part my legs to allow him closer to me. He attempts to pull
away, but I tighten my grip on him and continue assaulting him with my mouth
and hands. When the urgency finally subsides, my kisses turn slower and softer.
He presses his forehead to mine, his hands on either side of my face, his eyes
closed as he breathes heavily.

“I’m glad to see you, too,” he
whispers.

My heartbeat quickens and my stomach
flutters. I can’t hold back any longer and the words slowly roll off my tongue,
“I love you.”

“What?” he nearly gasps. He steps
back slightly and a smile builds as the shock of it all fades away.

“You heard me.”

“Say it again.”

“I love you.” I smile and pull him to
me, kissing his neck.

“God damn! Took you long enough!”

“Six years. Why’d you wait on me?”

“Krissy, I knew the moment I met you
that I loved you. I’m drawn to you like never before. My dad told me once that
I’d know, but I thought he was full of shit. He was so right.”

“I’m sorry I made you wait.” I
breathe out.

“It was worth every second,” he
mutters as he leans down to kiss me. His lips linger softly against mine before
pulling away. I tilt my head back exposing my neck to him and he follows my
cue. I stop breathing as the tip of his tongue traces my jaw and his lips glide
down my neck. I breathe in hard; my fingers ache to touch him as I pull him in
closer. “Not here,” he whispers in my ear and a shiver of pleasure fills my
body. He lifts me from the table, his hands gripping me tightly and I need this
more than anything. When his body covers mine, my need only grows. Ben’s hands
follow the curves of my body and with every touch his fingers leave my skin
aching for more. When he’s finally inside me, my body is so sensitive, so
acutely aware of his every movement that it takes only seconds for me to lose
myself in him. All the insecurities that plague my life fall away and I can’t
remember ever feeling this free, this safe…this loved.

The months slip by and Ben and I fall
into an easy rhythm. Ben cooking me dinner on the nights I work late and us
eating together, laughing and sharing stories. He runs with me every morning
and brings me chocolate chip cookie ice cream sandwiches in the evening. I’d buy
Ben’s favorite foods when I grocery shopped and I learned to make chicken tacos
from his grandma’s recipe. We’d play Wii for hours until Ben’s competitive
streak would show forcing us to quit before it turned ugly. We’d bust out my
college pawnshop purchase of the original Nintendo and he would laugh at my
ridiculous ability to kill him in
Dr.
Mario
and
Mike Tyson’s Punch Out
.
He was not only my boyfriend, but he’d become my best friend. It was perfect
and on the nights that we spent apart I had trouble sleeping, only finding
comfort on his side of the bed. The smell of his body lingered on my sheets
making it the only way I could sleep. I found such contentment in the simplicity
of our relationship.

I pulled away from my job almost
immediately upon my return. I began to shuck my responsibilities onto interns
and other reps just so I could be home with Ben. I was surprised at how easy it
was to create a schedule Ben and I could both be happy with. I still traveled
regularly, but I made it a point to be home every Friday night. Ellie divvied
down my client list leaving me with only some of our more important ones. I
kept my personal life separate and it was working out perfectly.
       

It’s around three o’clock in the
morning on a Monday when I notice my phone lighting up on my nightstand. I
promised Ben when I returned home from my trip to Gia’s that my phone would
remain on silent through the night, even though it wasn’t unusual for me to
receive multiple late night texts or phone calls. I’ve stood firm with my
promise now for months, but staying late at work as little as possible, that’s
a whole other story. I started out good, but old habits die-hard and I’m back
to working long hours and now, answering my phone in the middle of the night. I
glance at Ben as he sleeps soundlessly next to me in my bed. I reach for my
phone, covering the screen with my hand so I don’t disturb him. I creep into
the kitchen and scroll through the missed calls. Three missed calls and one
voice mail, all from the same number, and it’s one I don’t recognize. I enter
my password and as the message plays my mouth drops open and I gasp out loud, “Fuck!”

Moving with ease to my bedroom I pull
on a black wrap dress and grab a pair of black pumps carrying them with me as I
exit the closet. The room is still shrouded in darkness as I stumble toward the
bathroom. I pull my hair into a messy knot at the nape of my neck and secure it
with a hair tie, slipping a red flower pin next to the knot. I coat my lashes
in mascara, bronze my cheeks and brush my teeth with as much silence as I can
manage. I look at myself in the mirror and hope I look as good in the dim light
as I will on camera. I make my way to the bed, bending down I whisper into Ben’s
ear as his eyelids flutter.

“Ben. I gotta go. It’s early. Don’t
get up. I’ll call you later. Love you, baby.”

“Where are you going?” he mumbles.

“The Los Angeles Police Station. I’ll
explain later.”

“You’ve started answering your phone
in the middle of the night again?” he responds his eyes still closed.

“Yes,” I whisper.

“Huh. Surprise, surprise,” he says
rolling away from me.

“I don’t want to argue with you now.
I have to go.” There will come a time when he will no longer tolerate my
bullshit and I know that, yet I still walk out the door.

He mumbles, still sleepy, his voice
hoarse, “You always have to go.” I roll my eyes at his words knowing they are
true. I tug the bottom of my dress down and grit my teeth.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Ben is perfect and I’m
single-handedly pissing him off for no reason. Why am I doing this to him? And
yet, I still walk away.

Shoes in hand, I leave through the
garage door, my index finger instinctively tapping the pad on each finger of my
right hand and my lips moving wordlessly until I get to ten and repeating
again. I shake my hand when I realize what I’ve just done. It’s been a long
time since my OCD reared its ugly head and considering what’s occurred I’m not
surprised.

I text Melinda and Bob asking them to
meet me at the LAPD Hollywood station with a brief but to the point explanation.
Trini had been arrested and booked on suspicion of DUI, felony cocaine
possession and leaving the scene of an accident. I spoke to Trini last night
and everything seemed fine, but guilt pulled at the back of my mind. I’d been
waiting for this moment since we walked out of that doctor’s office six months
ago. Everyone knows that feeling, the feeling that something isn’t right, but
you just can’t put your finger on it. Even in sleep it wakes you, calling to
you from the back of your mind, making you restless and anxious. I couldn’t
bring myself to broach the subject with her, so I let it rest knowing
eventually it would turn sour.

Melinda pulls into the parking lot
just as I’m exiting my car. She parks her Mercedes SUV next to me and steps out
wearing a black suit and a pair of red snakeskin pumps. You’d have thought we
planned it.

“Bob’s not coming,” she says tersely.

“Not surprised,” I reply indignantly.
Bob washed his hands of Trini after her first meltdown, and really, I can’t
blame him. He has zero tolerance for her crap and has pretty much taken a
backseat unless I ask him for help. Back in 2003, Trini was on tour for her
first album when she had a nervous breakdown. Unfortunately for her it was
caught on camera. A camera crew was documenting her tour when she freaked out
on one of her dancers, all the while the cameras kept rolling catching her
profanity laced tirade and the subsequent beat down. Afterward, she got
stinking drunk, stole her father’s car and wrapped it around a tree. She was successfully
sued by the dancer and forced into anger management classes and out-patient
rehab. It was too much for Bob and his words still trouble me,
“This won’t be the last time this happens,
mark my words, she’s a shit show.”
I knew he was right at the time, I just
had no idea how bad it would get.