Trapped Under Ice (27 page)

He would wait all day if he had to.

***
              

Chad sat in his window seat, miserable. The upper floors of his apartment building overhung the street, so he did not see the pair leave, but he soon saw them crossing the street and entering the coffee shop next door. He stood, thinking about throwing some clothes on and going after her.
No. She said she needed to breathe
. He sat back down and waited.

About midmorning, she called. He dove across the couch and grabbed the receiver off the end table before the second ring. He heard her voice on the other side. “Chad?”

“Are you breathing?”

She couldn’t help but smile a little. “We need to talk. I’m at the coffeehouse across the street.”

“I’ll be right there.”

He threw on a lightweight, brown sweater, one of the few things he owned that wasn’t black, jeans, and tennis shoes. He glanced at his hair in the mirror. It would do. He brushed his teeth and left the apartment without even bothering to lock it.

When he entered, Beth rose from her chair. He knew she chose a neutral location so he couldn’t lure her into bed again.

“Let’s go for a walk,” she said.

“Okay. There’s a huge park near here.”

“Just a second.” She left his side and moved over to Pete’s table. She bent down and said a few words to him, then kissed a cheek and squeezed his hand before rejoining Chad.

“What did you say to him?”

She shrugged. “I just said thank you for being a friend.” Chad nodded at him guiltily, but the older man just stared back.

They shuffled along in silence for a while. He moved to take her hand, and she didn’t resist, nor did she respond. When they got to the park, she followed the path for a while, then spotted a pond through the trees and took off in its direction. Near the edge of the pond, she stopped, dropping his hand and gathering her thoughts.

“Chad,” she began, “I love you.” It was the first time the words were said in more than just a casual way. Her voice began to crack, and she swallowed, starting again. “You have to know how much I love you.” She peered at him now for the first time, and he could see how torn up she was. “But I can’t live with this.” Her words gathered speed. “I grew up in a house where I was protected from things, some might say sheltered, and maybe it was wrong to raise me that way, but the point is, I can’t stand violence. It makes me sick to think of people hurting other people. As stupid as it sounds, it scares me.”

“That doesn’t sound stupid. It’s quite reasonable to be scared of violence.”

“It’s just, sometimes I don’t even feel like I know you.”

“You’re the
only
person who knows me.” Chad touched her face, his fingers grazing over the surface of her skin as if she were a china doll he was afraid to break but couldn’t resist touching.

She seemed to lose her train of thought and turned from him, presumably to collect herself. There was a long silence.

“Beth, you’re not scared of me, are you?” She considered this. “Beth, I would
never, never
lay a hand on a woman.
Never!
”
he repeated vehemently.

“Okay,” she asserted. “I believe you.”

He breathed a sigh of relief.

“But that doesn’t change things. I still can’t live with all the fighting. I mean, that guy did nothing last night. Not a thing.” She started to get upset remembering. “Chad, what got into you?”

He thought about telling her he was jealous. He thought about telling her Julie upset him, but Chad knew there was more to it than that.

There was a little concrete bench by the edge of the pond. He moved to sit on it, a lone bird hopping out of the way of his over-sized tennis shoes. Beth sat down next to him. He stared out across the pond. “When David and I were growing up...” He took a deep breath.
How do you say a thing like this?
He grasped for the words to frame it, but there was no easy way to put it. “My old man…” He sighed. “He used to beat the shit out of my mom, almost every night. I mean he beat the crap out of her. And”—his face contorted in pain—“I wanted to stop him, but even though I was tall for my age, he was a big man. He would just push me into my room and jam something under the doorknob. All I could do was take care of David. So I did.” He paused, lost in a memory for a moment. “It was sick, the sound of it. We used to bury our heads in the pillows, but you could still hear it, feel the vibrations.” He stopped abruptly, closing his eyes and shaking his head. After all these years, he could still hear it. He could still feel the fear and the anger, the hate and the pain.

“That’s awful, Chad!” She put her arm around him. “I can’t imagine any child...” She stopped. After several seconds had passed, she asked in a hollow tone, “Did he hit you and David?”

“He never hit David. He hit me every once in a while, but mostly he took it out on my mom. He had better weapons to use against us,” he remembered, the rage showing on his face. “He used to tell us we’d amount to nothing. That we weren’t good enough to lick his shoes. One time he tried to force me to lick his shoes, but I wouldn’t,” Chad declared with a kind of twisted pride. “He couldn’t make me. He could hit me and kick me, but I wasn’t about to lick that bastard’s boots!” He gazed out across the lake for a moment, trying to rein in his emotions.

“Then,” Chad continued, “when I was ten, one night my mom blew my old man away.” His chin shook for a minute, his eyes disbelieving. “And she just sat there crying over his body, screaming at him to forgive her.
Forgive her!
Aw, shit!” He jumped up and paced back and forth in the grass.

He didn’t want to remember this. He stopped, raising his eyes to hers. “Beth, I’m not making excuses for myself. I know what happened last night was my fault. But I just thought if I told you about this, it might help you to understand why I’m so…fucking fucked up!” He ended with a note of exasperation. He stepped forward and kneeled in front of her in the grass. “But, Beth, I love you. I really do. And I want to change who I am, for you. But also for me. I’m tired of living this way. Tired of living with this white-hot rage burning a hole inside of me. I know you don’t have any reason to trust me—”

“Chad, I do trust you. This isn’t who you are, this person who hits people and explodes at everything. That is not the man I fell in love with. I’ll help you. We can do this. But only if you agree to see a therapist.”

Chad climbed up on the bench and drew her into his arms. “If that’s what you think I should do, I’ll do it.” He rested a
cheek on her head, and she could feel him shake as he tried to control his emotions. “Beth, I need you. Don’t you ever leave me.”

Her heart went out to him. It struck her to the core to witness him falling apart. The man, who always seemed so strong and in control to her, was now so weak and vulnerable. It was too horrible to contemplate what he and David had gone through together. She could see that frightened little boy in his eyes. She couldn’t bear the thought of him going through that. As a child, he lost everything that ever mattered to him, except for David, and now anything that might take her away from him was a threat. It all made sense.

All of a sudden, they both felt a vibration between them. They were confused for a minute. “Oh, it’s my phone.” Chad drew it out of his pocket. “It’s Roger. That’s weird…I think I better answer it.”

She nodded.

“Hey, Rog—I’m with Beth, why?” He paused, his face concerned. “What’s wrong? Yeah, we’re just a couple of blocks away. I’ll be right over. Just stay there!”

“What’s going on?”

“I don’t know. He’s at my apartment and he sounds pretty upset. I’m sorry, Beth—”

“No, no. Let’s go.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

They marched briskly down the street without talking, Chad leading the way and holding Beth’s hand. Waiting at a stoplight, he admitted nervously, “I’ve never heard Roger like this.” Worry creased his face. “Outside of David, Roger is like the only family I have.”

“I know.” She squeezed his hand.

At the next intersection he was so distracted he almost raced out in front of a truck. She yanked him back onto the sidewalk just before a truck rolled past, blasting its horn.

They finally arrived at the apartment to find Roger waiting anxiously in the hall in a wrinkled suit, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“Hey, Beth. How are you?”

“Good,” she answered tentatively. “And you?”

Roger forced a smile. “I’ve been better.”

“Why are you wearing a suit?” Chad asked bluntly.

“
Uhh…this? I guess I never changed from the club last night. Beth, do you mind if I steal Chad for a few minutes?”

“No, of course not.”

“Just go on in, babe. I think I left it open.”

As the door closed behind her, she heard Chad ask, “What the hell is
goin’ on, Rog?”

Beth crossed to the window, but she could still hear their conversation through the walls. All she could make of Roger’s voice was a low mumbling, but Chad’s came in loud and clear and was punctuated with a lot of “You’re kidding!” and phrases of a similar nature, interspersed with varied curse words.

“Are you sure?”

“Chad. Shit, man! Do I have to paint you a
friggin’ picture? They were naked, in our bed!”

“Okay. Okay. I get it.”

“And the worst thing about it is I’m paying the guy’s salary. I’m freaking paying the guy to screw my wife.”

Chad could see the logic had gone astray, but he hardly thought now was the time to point it out. “And who was it again?”

“Andre. You know, the really big African-American guy on the pyro crew with the shaved head.”

“No, shit! I can’t believe it.”

“Neither could I. Michelle said she had a headache, so the limo driver took her back to the bus. I decided to cut out early to check on her, and there they were, man, right in my bed!” The bassist seemed like he was still in shock.

“What happened then?”

“Well, the guy put his pants on in a hurry. I think I yelled and screamed and threw some things—and I don’t know what Michelle was doing—and finally, I couldn’t stand to look at them anymore and I went out in the living room.” He laughed in disbelief. “Then, I heard Michelle tell him, ‘I’ll handle it,’ like she was going to ‘handle’ me.” He started pacing the hall, gesturing wildly. “Andre didn’t want to leave. I guess he thought I was going to beat Michelle up or something. So I told the motherfucker, ‘I’m not gonna lay a hand on her. Believe me, I don’t want to touch her ever again,’ and he finally left.”

“I can’t believe it.”

“Would you quit saying that?”

“I’m sorry,
Rog. I guess I’m just so shocked.” He placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, man.”

“Yeah,” he answered absentmindedly. “And then she told me it’s been going on for three months. A whole
friggin’ three months! We haven’t even been married a year yet!”

“I know.”

“Chad, I want to leave for New Jersey today. I don’t want to be in New York anymore. I know we’re not supposed to leave until later—”

“Hey, man, anything you need.” He lowered his voice. “Where’s Michelle?”

“She left, man. She just packed her bag and left. Said she wanted a divorce.”

He took this new information in. “Listen”—he put his hands on Roger’s shoulders—“you go next door and tell Pete we’re leaving. Hopefully he’s in his apartment. I’ll get Beth.”

“Oh yeah, Beth...”

“I’ll get her a ticket out of New Jersey. No big deal.”

“Thanks, Chad,” he returned with a sense of relief.

He entered the apartment feeling stunned. Beth crossed from the window with a question in her eyes. “He walked in on Michelle and another guy in the tour bus.”

“Wh-what?” Her mouth hung open a beat. “Is he sure about what he saw?”

“O-o-oh yeah. He’s sure.”

“Oh.”

“He wants to leave, get out of New York. I know we planned on doing some things together today—”

“No, Chad. Whatever he wants to do.”

He pulled her into his arms. “Thanks, Beth. Thanks for understanding. And you’ll come with us? I can get a ticket for you out of New Jersey—”

“You can do that? Yeah, I’ll come with you.”

“Good. I have a feeling I’m going to need you around.”

***
              

Within an hour, the buses were loaded with the appropriate parties, and they were on their way to East Rutherford, New Jersey. Keith offered his room to Roger for the time being, so he wouldn‘t have to “return to the scene.” Roger, for his part, was anesthetizing himself with a bottle of rum, the only thing they could find to drink on the bus.

“I feel like a
friggin’ pirate.” He sat at a table with Chad and Beth, drinking straight from the bottle. He set it down on the table and turned his eyes to Beth. “Maybe I shouldn’t have been on the road so much.”