Rock Bottom (Bullet) (22 page)

Chapter Thirty-three

TWO MONTHS LATER, Ethan told Jenna he felt happy for the first time since childhood.  It was a foreign emotion to him.  He’d felt relief, euphoria, pleasure, satisfaction, confidence, pride, and love…but happiness had been elusive.  It was that goddamned dark cloud that had followed him for years, but for some reason, this new combination of drugs Dr. Thomas gave him triggered something in his head.

He’d started thinking of Jenna as his rock.  He knew Valerie had loved him and stood by him back in the day, but she hadn’t known how to get through to him.  Truth be told, sometimes he would use
because
of her.  He didn’t blame her, but he felt so unworthy of her that he’d drown in a well of drugs and alcohol.  Jenna somehow felt more down to earth to him, like someone who’d been in back alleys and seedy bars, someone who’d seen the dark side and been tougher for it.  She understood him in a way that no one else in his life ever had.  He loved her for that, and that love grew deeper every day.

He’d taken just a few things over to her apartment that day Dr. Thomas had prescribed new medicines for him.  He’d
still slept a lot, but Jenna would come home from work and sit on the bed next to him, bouncing and giggling, tickling his ear with her lips, whispering silly things to him until he’d roll over, unable to tune her out.  She’d drag him to the movies or dinner.  One time she took him to play mini-golf.  They went to Barnes & Noble another time, and she refused to leave until he picked out a book that looked interesting to him.  When they got home, she drew a gigantic bubble bath and made him get in.  She got in after, resting her back against his chest, and read to him.  He’d just closed his eyes and rested his head, enjoying the smell of the fruity bubbles, the feel of her hair against his cheek and her body up against his, the sound of her voice as she read the words that painted a picture in his mind.

They made love that night for the first time in ages
, and he held her close until morning.

The next day, he asked her to move in with him.  His apartment was bigger and more comfortable.  She’d told him to wait a little because she wanted to make
sure it was what he wanted.

A week ago,
though, they’d hauled the last of her things over.

And today, he sat on the edge of the bed.  He’d been awake for the last hour and had just been gazing upon her.  Even asleep, she was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever known.  Her red hair was striking against her pale skin and, asleep, she seemed peaceful and vulnerable, the latter a quality she never exuded awake.

Now he was staring at one of his guitars, his favorite, the one in a stand by the dresser in his bedroom.  He hadn’t held that black beauty in months.  He was afraid he’d lost his mojo.  He hadn’t been inspired to write or even play over the last year, and he was starting to think he was washed up.  Sure, he’d be able to live on residuals for a while, but they wouldn’t last forever.  Besides, what the hell would he do with his life without the music?

Jenna stirred and he felt her arms wrap around him, one around his torso,
the other over his shoulder.  She kissed his ear.  “What the hell are you waiting for?”

He sighed.  “I can’t, Jenna.”

“You’re just nervous, Ethan.  It’s okay.  Just pick it up and play an old song.  Get reacquainted.”

She had a point. 
So he picked up his black baby.  She wasn’t the guitar he’d had the longest and not even the one he took onstage the most, but he’d written more music with her than any other.  She wasn’t even the one with the richest tones, but she was always honest with him, and he would get a solid feel of how a song would sound both onstage and recorded when he played her, and she stayed in tune longer than a lot of his other guitars.  Jenna was right—he should start with her.

So he picked her up and set her on his lap, resting her shaft in his left hand, running his fingers over the strings, one fret at a time.  It felt
good.  He leaned over and grabbed a pick off the stand as well and strummed a G chord.  The strings vibrated against his left hand and somehow felt right.  He closed his eyes and thought of one of the first songs he’d written that had become part of Fully Automatic’s permanent playlist.  It was called “Blacker are My Days.”  He’d only sung it three or four times onstage and then Val had joined the band.  After she left, Brad stepped into the frontman position while Ethan sang backup and clean vocals on their heavier songs, so he’d never sung it again…but the tune was emblazoned on his soul.  He could hear the words, hear the entire band in his head while he started playing the tune.  It was a song that started out slow and quiet and then turned hard and heavy one verse in.  It was one of those songs that had encapsulated how he’d felt at that time…his world had been a dark, ugly place, and he’d hoped to exorcize some of those feelings with the song.  The band had loved the song, had said, “It’s brutally metal,” but no one had understood he’d meant every fucking word he’d written.

It hurt, feeling all that pain again, but it was a reminder to him that while life wasn’t blue skies and flowers, it
was
better.  Jenna sat next to him, her hand on his back, while he played.

And then it hit him.  She
was
his inspiration, the promise that things were better.

And he improvised.  It was just a few minutes later that he went to the kitchen and dug out a note pad and pen and started writing music for the first time in over a year.

* * *

Jenna knew Ethan had made some sort of breakthrough when she saw him focused on writing a song.  It was something she hadn’t seen him do…
ever.
  He looked different too, almost the way he looked sometimes after they made love…at peace—not torn and troubled as she knew he usually was.

A little while later, he asked her to listen.  He immersed himself in the music and didn’t look at her while he sang, but the words drilled deep into her core.  He
seemed healed and whole, and he was giving all the credit to her.  She knew he had more to do with it than she did, but the song made her feel warm anyway.

They made love that afternoon and then got in the car to pick up Chris for his visit.  Ethan hadn’t seen him in over a month and Valerie had chewed his ass over it, telling him he was letting his son down.  Ethan hadn’t let it lie, though, and had told Val Chris wouldn’t have wanted to see him in the state he’d been in.

When he pulled up to the white house almost disguised against the backdrop of snow, he took a deep breath.  Jenna wanted to give him a pep talk, but it wasn’t necessary.  She instead took his hand and squeezed it, hoping to help him realize he could lean on her for strength.

He smiled and kissed her before he pulled the keys out of the ignition.  They walked up the sidewalk, cleared of snow, and reached the door.  Ethan rang the doorbell and was greeted by his son in his best friend’s arms. 
“Daddy!”

A grin sp
lit Ethan’s face.  “Chris, my buddy.”  The child reached over and wrapped his hands around his dad’s neck.  He was redemption if Jenna had ever seen it.  The look on Ethan’s face was one of peace and joy.  He kissed his son on the cheek and then said to Brad, “Can I talk to you about business sometime?”

“Have you thought about it?”

Jenna wasn’t sure what they were talking about but figured it out when Ethan said, “Yeah.  I can’t walk away.  I’m in.”  She felt her chest swell with emotion, realizing Ethan was recommitting to Fully Automatic.

Valerie
walked in.  “Ethan.  Glad you could make it.”

He nodded, his expression cooled. 
“Yeah.”

Brad said, “Hey, Jenna, would you mind helping Val get some drinks for all of us?  Ethan has some business matters to discuss with me.”

Ethan cocked his head.  “
Now?
”

“What better time than the present?”  Brad led Ethan into the living room.

Valerie’s smile was strained, but she said, “Come with me to the kitchen.”

Jenna saw something then.  She understood why Valerie was so gun shy, but she was way too hard on Ethan.  Couldn’t she see the changes he’d made?  Maybe she couldn’t find it in her heart to forgive him.  From what Ethan had told her, she partly understood why. 
She just hoped maybe Valerie could forgive him down the road.

Once
they were in the kitchen, Valerie asked if Jenna would be willing to slice a couple of lemons.  “Sure.”  She watched as Val squeezed several of the yellow fruits into a pitcher on the table.  But then Jenna noticed the little bump on the other woman’s belly.  She wasn’t wearing jeans; she was wearing black yoga pants and a ladies tee, but Jenna could tell.  “When are you due?”

Val looked up, removing the lemon rind from the juicer and cutting another lemon in half.  “You can
tell
?”

Jenna shrugged.  “It’s
kinda obvious.”

“Oh, crap.  Please don’t say anything.  I haven’t told Brad yet.”

“How far are you along?”

“Six weeks, maybe eight.  I’m not sure.  I just took a pee test a couple of weeks ago to be sure.”

Jenna smiled, slicing the second lemon.  “Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Thanks.”  Val squeezed the other half of the lemon
she had and asked, “So…how’s Ethan doing?”

Jenna was hesitant, not knowing what Valerie’s motives were, but the truth wasn’t a bad thing.
  She was glad his ex had asked, because it told Jenna maybe the woman really
did
care.  “He has good days and bad, you know?  He had a really bad spot there…that’s why he didn’t want to take Chris last time.”  She paused slicing the lemon to look at Val.  “He wants to be better for his son, but it’s been a long, hard road.”  Val nodded, cutting another lemon in half.  “Did you know he wanted to die?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well…he didn’t try to commit suicide…not in the traditional way, but he tried anyway.  His overdoses?  Maybe they weren’t accidental.  He’s been struggling with chronic depression for a long time, and I think that’s part of why he abused drugs for so long.”

Val was quiet for several moments, squeezing two more lemon halves.  She nodded but said nothing.  Then she took the pitcher to the sink and added water and then poured sugar inside and stirred it with a long wooden spoon.  She brought the pitcher back to the table and started putting the lemon Jenna had sliced in the liquid.  Jenna had never seen anyone make lemonade from
scratch, so she was a little impressed.  Val stirred it again and then said, “Look…I know you’re feeling some sympathy for Ethan.  I get it.  I’ve been there.  But I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t warn you.  He’s poison.  He’s charming and irresistible.  He makes you feel like you’re the only woman on the planet…until he makes you feel like shit because he’s off screwing someone else.  Or he’ll tell you he’s clean but the next thing you know, he’s high as a kite.  Ethan is good looking and he’s charming and he knows it.  It took me years to realize that Ethan’s only concern is himself.”

Jenna sucked in a deep breath.  Well, that outlook certainly explained Valerie’s reluctance to be friendly, but Jenna felt compelled to set her straight.  “Valerie, if I may call you that, Ethan
has
changed…and that’s because he’s no longer using.”

“I fell for that one too many times.”

Jenna realized that maybe Valerie would have to see for herself, and perhaps it would take years for her to change her mind.  She’d been scarred by Ethan, and she was having a hard time accepting the changes he’d made.  Val got four glasses out of the cabinet and a tiny green sippy cup.  The glasses fit inside each other, so she asked Jenna, “Can you carry these?”

Jenna nodded and to
ok them from Valerie as the other woman took the spoon out of the pitcher and placed it in the sink.  Then she carried the pitcher toward the living room and Jenna followed her.  When they got there, Chris was sitting in Brad’s lap on the couch, playing with some blocks, and Ethan was sitting next to them.

Valerie placed the pitcher on the coffee table and then took the glasses and cup from Jenna.  She unscrewed the lid of the
sippy cup and poured lemonade in it before putting the lid back on and handing it to her son.  Ethan leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees.  “Val, I overheard part of your conversation in the kitchen with Jenna…purely by accident.”  Brad nodded, looking a little sheepish.  “I know you’re probably never gonna trust me, but I’d appreciate it if, from now on, you could keep that to yourself.  I
am
better and I
have
changed.  I know it’s not easy for you to understand that, but it’s true.  You’re still clinging to your old beliefs about me, and if that works for you, great.  But my son is getting old enough that he’ll start listening to you and believing every word you say.  I start using again…you take him away from me.  Get full custody.  Get a restraining order.  Move and don’t give me your forwarding address.  I don’t give a rat’s ass.  But for now—when I’ve actually made those changes—give me a chance, would you?”

Talk about awkward.  Jenna stole a glance at Brad and Chris.  Brad was holding
a plastic truck for Chris while the child drank from his cup and looking away, but Jenna suspected he felt as uncomfortable as she did.  Val asked, “Why now, Ethan?”  Her tone was full of accusation, but she wasn’t raising her voice.