The Girl in the Comfortable Quiet (26 page)

I am pulsing. Swallowing him hard, faster and
faster, more urgent with each thrust. The force of my climax takes command from
my body and Alan’s fingers close on my hips, guiding me through it as he pumps
his body in me and lets go.

I’m still straddling Alan. I am quiet in my
flesh. I am not quiet inside me. My senses note that Alan isn’t quiet inside
either. And I hate that that contradiction should surface now when I want us
only to be peaceful and loving with each other.

I lift my face from his shoulder to look at him.
His expression makes me want to cry. I fight back the tears.

His long fingers stroke my back in a calming way.
Then Alan takes my face in his hands, forcing me to meet his eyes. “Don’t
leave.”

I lower my gaze. There is too much to see in his
eyes that I’m not ready for yet. After a minute or two, he lets me sink down
onto his chest. I rub my cheek against his warm skin, drinking in the feel and
scent of him, and, with a fingertip, I lightly trace the ink of the infinity
band on his wrist. I love him so.

“I have to go, Alan.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

I
pull into the driveway and park in front of the house. I stare. It looks
exactly the same. Beautiful Spanish white walls and red tile roof, with clear
blue sky above and a stunning expanse of the ocean beyond. Peaceful in a forest
of comfortable quiet, but I am anything but quiet inside today.

Fuck, it looks exactly the same. But of course it
would be the same, I remind myself. I’ve only been gone two weeks. The world
hasn’t changed. Only I have. Internally I am different. And I will be
different, yet again, when I leave here.

I feel that familiar blend of anxiousness,
sadness and dread I used to feel as a little girl whenever I first came home
collide in my veins as I stare at the door.

I grab my mobile phone from the dash, flip it
open and dial. Not even a whole ring and it’s answered.

“I’m here,” I blurt out before Neil can say
anything.

“I know, Chrissie. I heard you pull in. I can see
your car in the driveway.” I hear a long pause. “You can come inside. Andy is
gone. I had him move out last week.”

Emotions surge upward and roil faster. I’m not
sure what I’m feeling. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, I did. For all of us.”

All of us? What all? Me, Neil and Kaley. Or me,
Neil and Andy. I push that thought quickly away.

“I don’t want to talk in the house.” Crap, why
does my voice have to sound so little-girl frightened? I take in a gulp of air.
“I’ll meet you on the side patio. We can talk there.”

I snap shut my phone, toss it onto the passenger
seat, and climb from my Range Rover. I try to focus on anything but what lies
ahead as I make my way down the drive. My plants need watering. The flowers are
still pretty in June, even with the heat. It’s going to be a hot summer up here
if today is any indication.

Then tears burn my eyes as I realize it doesn’t
matter because I won’t be here. I won’t ever be in this house again.

Neil is leaning against a wall, smoking, as I
enter the patio. He looks good, better than I expected today—or wanted, I admit
peevishly to myself. His long chestnut waves are in a ponytail, his face clean
shaven, his features rested, and he’s dressed in his comfy, casually messy
attire that looks so sexy and wonderful on him.

“Hi,” I say.

His face snaps up. He looks at me and immediately
stomps out the cigarette. Close to him now I can pick out details of his face.
He’s tired, anxious and afraid, but his sweet shy smile flashes and everything
readjusts inside me again.

I sink down on a chair a safe distance from him
and he settles in one facing me, close but not too close.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he says.

I nod. He slouches forward, elbows on knees, his
posture bringing us to even eye level. How strange it feels between us.
Familiar and yet distant, and both of us uneasy and tense.

“I’m sorry, Chrissie.”

I try to maintain my composure. “Don’t apologize,
Neil. I can’t stay if you do that. No apology is going to fix this.”

His eyes flash. That hurt him. His head does an
almost imperceptible move. “Fine. Are you OK?”

“I’m trying to be.”

“Me, too.”

I stare at him. I don’t know how to do this,
where to start, and I don’t know why I want to start here, but I can’t stop
myself. “How long?” He pretends not to understand me and my temper flares. “How
long have you been having an affair with Andy?”

Neil looks away, his jaw clenching and
unclenching several times. His gaze shifts back to mine, direct. “In an
emotional sense, since we were fifteen. In a physical way, only a month, this
time, before you caught me.”

The angry woman inside me warns not to believe or
trust him, but something in his voice tells me I’m with
honest Neil
on
the patio and he isn’t going to lie to me about anything. He knows, like I do,
that the answers don’t matter anymore. They won’t change where this is heading.

I fight to stop my heart’s reaction to that.

“What do you mean this time?” I ask, anguished.

He stares at me, blinks, and then says, “My
relationship with Andy ended before we started seeing each other in Berkeley.
I’ve not had a physical relationship outside of you with anyone other than this
past month with Andy. I didn’t cheat, not with anyone, during our marriage.
It’s the truth, Chrissie. I wanted our marriage to work. I tried. I didn’t want
this.”

Tried?
That word lands like a knife in
my heart. “Why did you do this? Why marry me? Why lie to everyone?”

“I love you, Chrissie,” he says on a barely
audible whisper.

My emotions spin out of control again. “Not in
the right way and it could never be in the right way. Fuck, Neil. Did you think
I didn’t feel it? I blamed myself. All these years, and it wasn’t me. I could
never be what you wanted completely. Do you have any idea how much it hurt me?”

“I know how much it hurt me to know I was failing
you. When I married you I thought we would be OK. We loved each other.” His
eyes lock on mine. “You’re my best friend. I wanted to be with you and I wanted
us to be OK.”

I stare at him in disbelief. “By living a lie with
me?”

He pushes up from his chair, his movements
agitated. “Do you think I could have done anything different than I did? I did
what they told me, what they expected, what everyone wanted.”

I push my fingertips into my eyelids, trying to
will myself into calm. “I don’t understand.”

I can feel the heavy pressure of his eyes on me.
“Do you think the band would be where it is if people knew I was gay?”

My face shoots up. Oh no. I spring to my feet.
“You married me for the band? As a front so no one would figure out you’re gay.
Who cares if you’re gay?” The part of me who is his wife is reeling again. “No
one cares anymore, Neil, and certainly not enough to have put us both through a
sham of a marriage.”

His gaze burns into mine. “People may not care in
your world, Chrissie, but they fucking do in mine. My family. The band. The
label. The fans.”

I stare at Neil, trying to break free of the
raging emotion consuming me. The rational portion of my brain understands, even
feels empathy for him. Because he’s right, there are people out there who would
reject him, never listen to his music, even as brilliant as he is, if they knew
the truth. But the woman who feels lied to and betrayed doesn’t want to budge
an inch.

We stare at each other, ragged and intense,
breathing heavily, and then very slowly both seem to quiet.

He says, “You’re right. In a perfect world I
should have been truthful, but I don’t live in a perfect world, Chrissie. And
neither do you. We both have made mistakes. Decisions we probably shouldn’t have
made. Be honest with yourself. We have both just tried to do the best we can do
for each other and everyone we love.”

There’s a lot to those words I don’t want to
hear, but I hear it anyway—the subtle manner he points out my sins and
omissions in the marriage.

I sink down on a chaise, realizing that I don’t
want to fight about this. Besides, it’s too late to fight it out between us.
Fighting won’t get us anywhere except where we already are. That’s not why I’m
here, and if we keep this up I’ll go to pieces again and we will both end
needlessly bloodied.

I look up at him, seeing on his face what I’m
feeling, and I remind myself I did love him, just not enough or in the right
way.

We were both guilty of that, it seems.

Finally steady, I ask, “How much of our life
together was a lie? Was it all a lie?”

His eyes grow glassy, and I regret the words. A
direct hit and, crap, I don’t want to hurt him and I don’t want to hurt me.
It’s time we stop hurting each other.

I let out a shuddering breath and struggle to keep
the tears from my eyes. He sinks down beside me on the chaise and I let him
because I want him close to me as we finish this last interlude of our life
together.

He runs his fingers through his hair. “None of it
was a lie, Chrissie. We loved each other. We’ve been through a lot together.
That should tell you everything. And we can get through this.”

Moments of my life with Neil tick like flash
cards in my head. Berkeley. Kaley. Our life here. He’s right. We loved each
other. We’ve been through a lot, but
this?

I swallow the lump in my throat. “We can’t get
through this, Neil. I think Andy is pretty much a deal-breaker for our
marriage.”

His gentle green eyes soften. He touches my
cheek. “I mean divorce. We can get through divorce without making it ugly.”

“Oh.”

How strange that word sounds when someone else
says it. I rummage through my internal junk trying to figure out what it is I’m
feeling, and strangely, it’s relief unfurling through me, taking the edge from
my emotions.

“What do we do now?” I ask. “I should probably
move out.”

“No, Chrissie. The house is yours. I’ll leave.”

Inwardly I shudder and outwardly I shake my head.
“No. Kaley and I are leaving.”

“Fine.” He exhales slowly. He rakes a hand
through his hair. “Whatever you want, that’s what I’ll do. I don’t want to
fight in court. However you want to settle the marriage is what I’ll do. Just
have your lawyers send the papers. I’ll sign them. I owe you that. I don’t want
to hurt you again. Not ever.”

I look away. I can tell by his voice this isn’t
bullshit and he means it. Neil is a great guy, in all moments, even this.

After I sit for what feels like forever saying
nothing, because I don’t know what to say, I whisper, “I should probably hate
you, you know. But I don’t. A part of me still loves you and I think always
will.”

I make a tired laugh, shaking my head. It shocks
the hell out of me, but it’s the truth. I don’t hate Neil. In this horrible
moment, what I feel most is relief that our marriage is over and sadness that
Neil won’t be a part of my life anymore.

I can feel him staring at me. “I’ll always love
you, Chrissie. I never meant for any of this to happen. I wanted to make you
happy. I wanted us to be happy together. I wanted our marriage to work. I
wanted to be what everyone wanted me to be. I tried, really tried, because I
love you and I wanted us.”

I smile sadly. I understand that last part
because it’s how I’ve felt, too, deep down inside in that place I never let
myself go before today.

I stare at him. “You can’t help who you are in
love
with, Neil.”

His eyes lock on me, tender and amused and
sympathetic. “Neither can you, Chrissie.”

That
makes the tears give way
.
Before I can stop myself, my face is in my hands and I’m sobbing, every part of
the last two weeks draining out of me in unrelenting waves.

Neil takes me in his arms, holding me close to
him. I bury my face against him, melting into his chest, and it feels good in a
way it hasn’t felt for too many years. It doesn’t make sense. None of this
makes sense. But it feels right. Really, really right to let Neil hold me at
this moment when we are both ready to let go.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

I
park my car behind Jack’s and enter the house. It’s quiet and I find my dad in
the kitchen carefully cutting cheese and fruit and setting it on a plate the
way Kaley likes for her before-dinner snack.

I check my watch. It’s only 2:30 p.m. Was I
really only on the mountain an hour? It felt so much longer, more significant
than sixty minutes of my life.

I step into the kitchen.

Jack looks up. “I’m glad you’re back. I’ve been
worrying about you since you called this morning. How are you?”

I sink down on a stool at the center island.
“Where’s Kaley?”

“In the yard playing with Maria. She’s fine. Now
tell me how
my
baby girl is.”

I shake my head, trying to organize where to
begin. So much has happen. I’m in a good place. Neil and I parted on good
terms, but I don’t know if I can explain it yet or even talk about it.

“You saw Neil,” Jack prods.

I nod. “We’re getting divorced.”

“Oh.” He searches my face in that way he has when
he expects me to tell him more and is waiting for me to do it. “Are you going
to tell me why?”

I shrug. “Maybe someday. Not now. I don’t know
when.”

Jacks nods as if digesting that one. I push up
from my chair and go to the cabinet. I grab a wineglass and study the
half-finished bottles on the counter—pricy Napa reds. I remember all the times
as a child I found the half bottles and worried about my dad, his sobriety,
when it had only been Linda.

The half-finished bottles of wine. All these
years. They had frightened me so much. I wonder if I’d asked, if I’d told Jack
my fears, if he would have told me about Linda a long time ago.

I pop off a cork and fill my glass. Shit, I still
can’t get my head around that one: Jack and Linda. I wonder if Jack wants that
discussion today, since we haven’t talked about that
recent development
yet either.

I turn to face my father, leaning back against
the counter, sipping my wine as I watch him pretend to focus on finishing
Kaley’s plate. Fuck, who am I to judge my dad? Who is Jack to judge me? We are
all just doing the best we can, and he’s a wonderful dad. An amazing
grandfather. He doesn’t deserve shit from me, especially considering the amount
of mess I’ve made in my own life.

“Manny called this afternoon while you were with
Neil,” he says quietly, not looking up from his task.

I tense and then flush, which is a totally stupid
response. Jack has to know where I’ve been, the entire tabloid-reading world
knows where I’ve been, since my lost week with Alan in Malibu has gotten quite
a bit of ink in the press.

I take a sip of my wine, trying to decide how far
into
this
topic I want to go today. Another stupid reaction. Debating
with myself how much I tell my father about my affairs.

I frown. Am I even having an affair with Alan? Or
did we end again when I left him? 

I’m not exactly sure what happened between us
this morning and what it means to where we’re going, if anywhere. I am as
unclear about that as I am about all things Alan.

I decide to be direct, but non-informative.

“Was there a message?” I ask.

Jack’s bright blue eyes lock on mine. “No
message. We just talked for a while. He seemed to want to talk. To put things
right between us. I think it was long overdue. It was nice catching up with him
today.”

He studies me as if waiting to see how that one
hits me and I keep my face deliberately expressionless. Nope, don’t want to
know what they talked about. Not going there.

Jack starts to laugh. “He talked to Kaley for a
while. He didn’t have much of a choice. You know how she is. Grabs the phone,
thinking every call is for her. But they conversed surprisingly well together.”

His chuckles grow louder, more amused, and I
don’t know what to make of that. Harmless observation or sneak attack into
those topics, unspoken, but there between us?

“Was that it?” I ask.

“Did you expect more?” The look Jack gives me
this time is pointed with meaning, packed with the things he won’t say, but
then, he doesn’t have to. The color on my cheeks darkens. “He wants you to
call, and I quote, ‘when it is convenient for you.’”

My nerves unexpectedly start to prickle.
Convenient? What the hell does that mean?

I refill my wineglass. “Kaley and I are going to
be living here with you for a while if that’s OK.”

His eyes widen. “More than OK. Any reason why
you’re the one moving out of the house?”

“No reason. Just ready for a fresh start.”

“You can stay as long as you like.”

“It won’t be that long, Daddy. I promise.”

His expression changes into surprise and an
I
get it
sort of thing. Shit, what made me say that last part about not being
here that long? I can tell what he’s thinking and it is definitely a mistake
for me to give him an opening in that direction.

“I’m going to lie down for a while,” I say. “I’m
exhausted. Thanks for watching Kaley for me.”

I start to move toward the door.

“Is Alan Manzone Kaley’s father?”

The earth falls away beneath me. I almost didn’t
hear Jack. I can pretend I didn’t and walk away. His voice was that quiet of a
thing, but the words are in the room like an exploded nuclear bomb. We both
know that I heard him.

I turn back to face him, my blue eyes locking
with blue. “Is that what you think? Or are you wondering if that is the cause
of my marriage to Neil ending? Is that why you’re finally asking me when I can
tell you’ve always wondered? You think it’s my fault that my marriage is over?
That Neil is divorcing me because Kaley isn’t his daughter? Is that what you
think?”

Jack’s brows pucker in that way when he’s
carefully searching for the right words to say. “I don’t think it. I worried
it. There is a difference.”

“No, there isn’t, Daddy. Not to me.”

Before he can say anything else, I leave the
room.

I hurry down the hall and into my bedroom. I
close the door, lock it, and sink down on the bed. I stare at the phone. I
should call Alan, but I’m still on emotional overload from my hour with Neil
and that scene in the kitchen with Jack didn’t help any.

I lie down and curl into a ball. A part of me is
desperate to find out where things stand with Alan. But I’m tired and I’m weak
and I’m nowhere near ready to face the unexpected again.

The tears come and I don’t want them. There is so
much left to make it through. Talking to Neil and saying goodbye is only the
beginning of the road changing again. And I can’t see the road in front of me.
Not really. Fuck, I can’t even see clearly the road I’ve just finished.

The past five years flitter though my head. The
things I’ve done well and the things I’ve done badly. So much has happened and
it’s only been five years.

I close my eyes. I ache to talk to Alan, but my
heart warns me not to do it today. There is too much running through me,
unchecked and dangerous. Feelings and thoughts. Things I need to say. Other
words I’m afraid to speak.

I don’t reach for the phone. I’m not ready yet to
see the road ahead of me.

~~~

The
wind teases my hair as I walk the shore with Jack. The morning has just started
to come alive and the beach has that pleasant freshness and cool misty air of
early morning. The only sounds are the surf, the sea birds, and Kaley laughing.

“Are you hanging in there, baby girl?” Jack asks
quietly.

I nod. Neil made his
apology to me
press
appearance, but it didn’t dampen any of the speculation in the tabloids since
his PR people also confirmed our separation. The rag-sheets have been running
full press for two weeks. 

“I’m doing well, Daddy. Just taking some time to
try to figure out a few things. I don’t know what I want to do with my life and
I don’t feel ready to make any decisions for Kaley and me. Not yet.”

“You’ll know what you want when you know. Don’t
try to push it.” Jack wraps an arm around my shoulders and gives me a squeeze.
“I’m willing to listen if you need to talk. We can think things through
together.”

I smile. “I know. I’m just not ready to do that
either.”

Jack laughs and I turn my head to hide my
expression because I can feel some of my inner turmoil has surfaced to my face.
Shit, I’ve been here two weeks. Stalled in every direction of my life. I’ve
hired an attorney, but I haven’t started the process of filing for legal
separation. I told Neil I’d move out of the mountain house, but I haven’t
employed movers to get my things. And I haven’t even talked to Alan. I need to
call him back. I don’t know why I haven’t yet.

Why haven’t I called Alan back? Oh fuck, I know
why. Other than the one time when he spoke to Jack, Alan hasn’t called me. I
don’t know what to make of that. And I’m more than a little afraid to find out
what it means.

I sink down on the bottom step of the wooden
stairs built into the cliffs and grab Kaley’s shoes from the pile we left
there. I shake them to empty out the sand.

I almost call out to her, but then I stop and
just stare. Her shiny black curls dance against her back as she runs from Jack,
giggling. The smile on her face is mesmerizing, even at three. And those
enormous dark eyes shimmer when she’s happy.

Jack catches hold of her and tosses her in the
air. Her laughter swirls around me, low and husky for a little girl, but from
Kaley it’s charming. Happy Kaley is on hyper-drive today. She loves being with
Jack. Happy Kaley is never on hyper-drive… I feel an unexpected tear on my
cheek and push away my thoughts.

Jack starts herding her toward me and I force a
smile as she runs to me and throws her arms around my neck wanting kisses.

“You’re impossible. Do you know that?” I whisper
between loud smacking wet ones on her cheeks.

She pulls back, shaking her head, clearly having
had enough of me.

“Let’s get your shoes on you,” Jack says, trying
to pull her up against him so I can slip her tiny UGGs on her feet.

She starts moving her leg rapidly so I can’t
catch it.

“Don’t want,” she exclaims obstinately.

“There are splinters on the stairs, baby girl,
and all other kinds of icky things you don’t want to step on,” I say,
struggling to keep time with that darn leg.

“No,” she snaps at me, angry and determined.

Well, that warning did a nifty job. Her brows
lower and I struggle not laugh.

I let out a loud exhale, staring up at Jack in
exasperation. “God, she is spoiled.”

Jack’s eyes fill with a smile. “I remember
another little girl just as spoiled. She’s exactly like you, Chrissie. You
turned out OK.”

Laughing, I glare at him. “She’s not like me at
all. I was a quiet, mousy, frightened kid. She’s exactly like her father.”

Jack’s expression changes. Oh shit, what made me
say that?

“Nope. She didn’t inherit her personality from
Neil.”

I feel my cheeks color. I feel Jack waiting for a
response to the Neil comment. I stand up, keeping my gaze averted from my dad’s
by focusing on trying to still my daughter.

“She’s a handful.” Jack continues laughing. His
humor melts and his voice turns serious. “But the best things in life are never
easy. Don’t pass on something you really want just because it’s not easy,
Chrissie.”

My heart does a somersault and my face snaps up,
but Kaley breaks free of Jack, darts past me up the stairs, and he is already
running his way upward to catch her.

My dad grabs her and disappears from the cliffs. I
sink down on the sand and stare at the water. What the hell just happened here?
Did Jack just tell me, in that folksy way he has without saying things
directly, that I should try to make a go of it with Alan? Is that what the fuck
just happened here?

It’s what I want, to be with Alan. To love Alan.
To have Alan love me. Why do I stay here with Jack and do nothing? Why am I
afraid to even try?

The minutes tick by without a feel of realness or
answers. I love Alan. Why isn’t that an easy thing? Shouldn’t love be easy? But
it’s not. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. What Alan wants me to do. What
the right thing is for everyone.

Jack’s voice floats through my thoughts.
The
answers are always simple if you let them be
…let them be? Is that why I’ve
made such a mess of my life? I don’t know how to let things be simple. Loving
Alan has never been a simple thing for me.

I trot up the steps and cross the yard. By the
time I reach the patio, Jack and Kaley are already sitting at a table eating
breakfast. I take the coffee from my place setting.

Jack looks up from his plate. “You’re not
eating?”

I shake my head and drop a fast kiss on Kaley’s
curls. “I’m going to take care of a few things, Daddy, if you could let Kaley
hang with you a little while longer.”