The Rock Star Next Door, a Modern Fairytale (51 page)

“Well, I’m not.” Jack returned, seeming to lean toward his twin in this tension filled conversation. “Thanks, dude.” He nodded to Lex and scarfed up another half of bagel.

“
Michelle
.
Chill, would you.
We flew in from L.A. in the middle of the night to be here.
” Jessie sighed, and turned her back on her sister.

Lex could see the anger seething in Jessie’s lovely green eyes. It was palpable, and so rare an occurrence he didn’t believe he ever remembered seeing her quite so white hot before this. He placed his hand on her back consolingly, just above her butt. “Eat something, sweetheart.” He whispered, trying to soothe her.

She grabbed the
other half of the bagel from the plate
and lifted it to her lips. As she munched off a small piece, she closed her eyes. He could see the moisture seeping from
them. She was t
ense, angry, afraid for her dad
and exasperated with her sister’s religious posturing.
They hadn’
t slept all night
and
the
uncertainty regarding her father’s outcome had to be taking its toll on Jessie.

Lex shot a quick glance in the direction of the old sister. That one was fuming, obviously feeling as if she’d been persecuted for her religious fervor instead of realizing that she was making everyone els
e uncomfortable with her
hol
ier than thou attitude.

“I’m not leaving here.” Michelle said, almost daring Jessie to throw her out.

“Your choice.” Jessie returned, still keeping her back to her sister, and still trying to contain her tears. “We’re a family, and we’re all here waiting for Dad to pull through surgery.”

“
Yeah. M
e
and
my bro
here
are going downstairs for a smoke break.” Jack agreed
, joining Steve at the door
. “I’ve got my cell, text me if you hear anything.”

Jack and Steve left the room. Their footsteps could be heard on the tile flooring as they
walked to the elevator. Moments later, the familiar ding of the elevator
signaled their departure
.

Jessie sank down at the table, her back to her sister. Lex eased into the chair opposite her, facing the surly woman, but focusing on Jessie and her welfare. “
Drink some juice. Oh,
here
, I almost forgot
.” He pulled
a cylinder of
her favorite coffee beverage from his jean pocket and set it on the table.
Starbuck
s
Mocha
Frappuccino
.
“They had these in the cafeteria. I thought that might cheer you.”
He pulled the cap for Jessie and slid the brown cylindrical can
across the table.

“
They
aren’t family.” Michelle muttered from across the room as she sat down o
n the sofa and crossed her arms
over her knees. “You shouldn’t have brought them here. Steve and Mr. Coltrane are not family. The nurse told me only family was allowed in here.”

Jessie stopped drinking her coffee beverage.
She set the can
down on the table with a look of decisiveness as she wiped her lips with the back of her hand. She turned in her seat to face her sister. “God, you sound just like
our
mother! Stirring up the tension,
sowing
seeds of discord
.
Can’t resist, can you.
Steve and Lex are my family.
My
family
. Got it? As far as you and I are concerned, we quit being family a long time ago.”

“How dare you!” Michelle shot up out of her seat, her face growing bright red with fury. “You choose a Satanist over me, your own sister--you bring him here and refuse to let me pray for our dad’s soul--”

Jessie stood, too
, her face coloring
. Lex rose
. He was about to speak, to correct the sister’s misconception, but Jessie spoke first.

“Oh, you just couldn’t resist making
a drama out of this, could you? This is so mom. You are Marcie’s
daughter, aren’t you?  First,
get a clue;
Lex is n
ot into
devil worship.
Stop spreading that crap around.
That’s your interpretation of any belief system that
doesn’t align w
ith yours.  He meditates
and doe
s
yoga--big deal. And secondly, why are you so dead set upon letting Mom walk for nearly killing our Dad? She’s d
angerous, she tried to kill our father
and herself. That’s a little too nuts for my liking, a little too crazy to be allowed to walk around free as the breeze.”

“Honor thy father and thy mother, so it will go well with you.”

“Yep, I got me one of those cool philosophical mottos, too;
Li
ve Long and Prosper.” Jessie mad
e the classic Spock salute at her sister with a shaking hand as she spoke through white lips. “Stop bringing your religion into everything. Mom has been leading up to this for years. Be thankful it wasn’t one of your kids she shot. Covering up her mental illness is not going to help her or any of us.”

As a verbal blow, it packed a powerful wallop. Lex bit the inside of his lip, trying not to say something as the two women stood staring each other down with tears brimming over their eyes. Michelle sank down on the sofa again, the epitome of defeat. She nodded slowly, as if just realizing the truth of Jessie’s words.

And then, the wailing started, as Michelle broke down into anguished sobs.

Lex was uncomfortable. He expected Jessie to go to her sister’s side and offer comfort. She didn’t. She just sat back down again at the tabl
e, her eyes glassy, liquid as she stared into space. She stuffed her hands into the pouch in the front of her sweatshirt, looking as broken and distraught in her stoic, silent pose as the woman across the room with her emotional wailing and sobbing.

Unable to stand it, Lex moved toward the weeping wom
an.
He sat down on the
coffee table before her
and placed a light hand on her arm. She
had her face covered with her hands, but peered between her fingers momentarily to see who was nearby.

“Oh
-she’s right--it could have been--hiccup--could have been--Davey or Jeremy!” 

“But it wasn’t.” Lex said firmly. “Your boys are safe.” He looked askance at Jessie, hoping for direction. Jessie was crying now. Softly, almost without a sound, a sharp contrast to the highly emotionally display of the woman beside him.

“I-I-I---oh.” Michelle sniffled and tried to contain her frazzled emotions. “I l-leave them with Mom a
lot--some--sometimes they spend the night there.” The last two words
raised
a couple of octaves as the poor woman realized her children could have been at the scene last night when their grandmother shot their grandfather.

Lex grimaced. W
ith great uncertainty and hesitation, he put his other arm around the poor woman. At his tentative embrace, she leaned into him like a child and start
ed weeping against his shoulder; great, shaking loud
sobs that were horrify
ing to endure
.

“Oh, my!” Another female voice intruded upon the scene. A slender, petite blonde woman in her
fifties
. “Oh, Jessie, Michelle--is he gone?”

“Aunt Rachel.” Jessie stood up and went into her aunt’s opened arms. “No, no, Michelle was just realizing how bad it might have been if her boys were at the house last night.”

“Yes, it would have been very traumatic for those boys to witness such a scene.” The older woman held Jessie’s eyes, almost as if they had some secret between them. She nodded to J
essie, an imperceptible
salute.
She released her hold on Jessie and hurried across the room to where Michelle was weeping against Lex’s shoulder.

The older woman sat on the sofa
beside Michelle, opposite Lex, who sat on the coffee table. She put her arm around her niece. Michelle leaned into her for comfort.
“Yes, yes, Michelle, my dear, it is fortunate the boys weren’t at your mother’
s house last night. She’s in police custody now. She can’t hurt herself or anyone else. And
now it’s up to us to make certain your mother gets the help she
so desperately
needs.”

Chapter Twenty
Five

Jack Kelly, Se
nior,
did not survive the sur
gery.
His leukemia caused a comp
lication; b
lood thinners in his system made it impossible for the doctors to stop the bleeding as they struggled to repair the damage to his left lung.

The news came shortly after Michelle’
s epiph
any about the danger her sons could have been in. Jack and Steve had just returned from their walkabout when the doctor came into the room to deliver the news of their father’s death. Jessie and Jack hugged each other. Michelle clung to their aunt. After a few moments of silence, Jack and Jessie moved as one to comfort the sister who had previously snapped at them.

Steve stood in the doorway, his head hanging, his expression grim.

Aunt Rachel ca
me to stand by Lex. N
ot kn
owing who to speak with as
his patient’s children held each other and wept,
the doctor
turned to Lex
and Rachel
.

“I’ve notified the police of Mr. Kelly’s death.
I
’m
to
ld the wife
involved
in the shooting
is mentally unstable and is being he
ld in custody
. She’ll face the judge
for involuntary manslaughter. If it is determined she needs psychiatric treatment they will transport her
to a state men
tal hospital in the coming days
. I’
m sorry for your loss.
”

The funeral was three days later. Jack, Jessie
and Michelle stood by their father’s casket as the minister spoke over it in the old, Victorian cemetery.
Their mother was not present. She had been transported to the state psychiatric hospital, but even if it had been possible for her to attend, Lex doubted her children would have allowed it.

Cars lined the one lane road, making egress impossible. The limousine Lex had rented for
the occasion was pulled close to the grave site
so they could dodge the lurking paparazzi nearby.
It was a tragedy. A horrible family tragedy, yet
the media w
ere quick to move in as celebri
ties were involved.
Lex flew
Rolly Gibson
, the private investigator, in from L.A. to talk with the attorneys handling the case for Jessie and her siblings.
Rolly
had uncovered a lot of evidence earlier showing that Mrs. Kelly had a long history of mental illness and had been in and out of hospitals
numerous times over the years.

When the twins were children
, there were whispers
of
suspected abuse but nothing could
be proved by the school counselors to substantiate a case against their mother.
No one in the family would speak up, from their maternal grandmother to Aunt Rachel
and certainly not Mr. Kelly himself.
Jack and Jessie
suff
ered
continual
verbal and emotional abuse
but they slipped t
hrough the cracks in the system because
their father was determined to keep his wife’s mental illness a family secret.
When the school counse
lors inquired
about the situation at home during their middle school years
, time and again Mr. Kelly covered up
with claims of misunderstandings and exaggerations on the part of his children.
With no hope of escape,
Jack and Jessie ran away
at the age of sixteen
. Their father and mother didn’t report them missin
g to the authorities. Oddly,
the father claimed they went
to live with relatives in another state, and no one followed up.

Rolly
had unearthed a goldmine, lost bits and pieces that taken alone seemed benign, speculation at best, but when pieced together formed an unmistakably ugly picture of
both physical and
emotional abuse.
In their younger years there were reports of
black eyes, broken wrists or arms, and
continual bruises that were explained away as bicycle accidents and so forth.