Unforgettable

  UNFORGETTABLE, THE NOVEL

  Sometimes darkness lies, it hides the shadow we refuse to see,

  Sometimes darkness lies, it smothers the sound we refuse to hear,

  Sometimes darkness lies, it cloaks the evil we refuse to believe

  …as it waits outside the door.

  I opened my eyes. The pain made it almost impossible to breathe.

  “Sammy, Sammy, stay with me, huh? Come on, Sammy. The sirens they come. They come.”

  It didn’t make sense that Mr. Berg was there, trembling, as he pressed towels on my stomach. They were drenched with blood.

  “I hear my mother’s voice,” I whispered.

  “No! Look at me Samantha Rose! You will stay with me! Here! Now! We get through this. I take care of you now. We have a gin game on Sunday! You owe me seventy-six cents, remember? Stay with me my little one…”

  I could feel him sobbing.

  “Don’t cry. Get up, you’ll hurt your poor knee,” I murmured. I wanted to touch him but my hands were still tied with the wire. I heard sirens, and felt his soft cheek next to mine, as I drifted back into blissful oblivion.

  Two Years Later

  It was a Monday

  Robert Welsh’s large, thick boots were smashing the flower bed full of impatiens. He stood in the lawn of people he didn’t know looking out across the sprawling city of Los Angeles.

  “Come on, Robert!” Eddie, his younger brother, was hot in the beat up SUV they’d stolen that morning. Oscar, the youngest of the Welsh boys, was silent in the backseat.

  Robert stared at the monstrous city and lit the cigarette he was pinching.

  “Yeah,” he muttered, “ah, Sammy, my Lilith, my Lilith, you’re here, aren’t you? I can taste you in the wind. I’m coming.”

  He stomped over two miniature rose bushes and got back in the truck, smiled, and punched Eddie.

  “What’s that for?”

  “’Cause I’m happy…”

  The door to the mansion opened and a man greeted Sam.

  Gabrielle floated on an air mattress, looking over the edge of heaven at her daughter, Sam. Her husband, Ted, was drifting through the water in a golden inner tube, drinking a beer, wearing his Angels baseball cap.

  “Now, Ted, now. We have to do it now. He’s the one I’ve been watching... “ Gabrielle sat up and floated above the water.

  Ted opened his eyes and looked at his wife.

  “Gabby, calm down. Go ahead.”

  “Should I say something?”

  Ted laughed. “Like what?”

  “I don’t know... Shazam!”

  “If it makes you happy.”

  She closed her eyes and waved her hand. She whispered, “Shazam!” and threw the gold dust on the man. And then she watched.

  “That’s not Jack Nolan. He said his name is Fritz.” Gold dust, invisible to Sam and the man, cascaded downward.

  “Uh-oh. I didn’t expect him... Shazam!”

  “Why the hell did you do it again?” Ted yelled at her. A refrigerator floated by and he grabbed another beer.

  “I don’t think you should say curse words in heaven.”

  Ted rested his head back. “You’d better be sure you get the right guy, and look, you got that glitter all over her, too!”

  “Well, I’ve never done this before. Shazam! This is fun,” she giggled.

  Ted was getting worried. “Quit that! You’ll have men chasing her down like dogs after a meat wagon. Now wait until she meets Mr. Hollywood.”

  The front door opened and it was not Jack Nolan.

  I breathed a normal breath. I faced, instead, a tall, handsome man in black pants and a black shirt. His face was well balanced, except for his nose, which had a slight turn midway from some obvious misunderstanding in his past. His eyes had a curious intensity that sucked me in and I had a sudden bizarre desire to kiss him.

  He smiled as if he held a state secret that he wasn’t going to tell.

  “Welcome Miss Rose,” he shook my hand. “I’m Fritz. Very nice to meet you. Jack’s in a bloody snit today. I think the pain’s getting to him. He’s been looking forward to your visit.”

  He had a sexy, educated, British accent.

  The inside of the house was like falling down the rabbit hole. There was no antique table with flowers in the foyer. No Blue Boy. No crystal chandelier.

  Instead, between the marble pillars, stood a fifteen foot chrome tree. To the left was a large living room with a painting of a bare-assed horse woman.

  To the right was another enormous room with a grand piano, and a suspended pony-sized model of a pirate ship. I thought I saw a Barbie doll tied to the ropes.

  Two full suits of armor stood outside mahogany pocket doors. One was holding a cigar. One had an empty condom packet in its gauntlet.

  It was clear that in this rabbit hole the rabbits were having a very good time.

  “We’ve converted the den into a temporary bedroom. He hates it down here, little privacy and all, but we give him his scotch and a cigar and he’s bearable.”

  Fritz opened the pocket doors to the den.

  I smothered a gasp. It really couldn’t be true but there he was. Jack Nolan. Mr. Hollywood. I’d seen every one of his movies.

  His lower leg was wrapped in a cast and propped on a stack of white, crisp pillows. His black hair was mussed. His brows were arched, the left higher than the right. And, as I had seen on the big screen many times, he had that million dollar cleft chin.

  I said, brilliantly, “I’m Sam, your P.T. And you’re Daffy?” His chart had Daffy Duck as his name. My boss, Stella, had told me that celebrities often used alias’s to try and keep the press away. She had put together Jack Nolan’s recent injury with Daffy Duck’s.

  My palms were sweaty. He smiled, but I could tell he was in serious pain.

  “Some days I am Daffy. Some days I am William Shakespeare, and some days I can’t even remember who I am.” He laughed.

  “You’ve met my business manager, Fritz. And of course, you know my dear comrade, Tonto in the corner,” he pointed at a large wooden cigar store Indian. “You’ll have to forgive him. He’s a bit stiff.”

  I smiled.

  He nodded to Fritz to leave.

  “Scream or pound loudly if you need me,” Fritz told me. He winked.

  “Come closer, come closer. Fritz put a chair for you by the bed. We can get to know one another.” He winced.

  “Lots of pain?”

  “Lots.”

  “Pain pills working?

  “Don’t take them. I take some over the counter stuff. But the hard stuff makes me sick. Damn shit’s poison.”

  He had a large ice bag on his cast.

  “Okay if I move this?”

  “Sure.”

  “It doesn’t penetrate too much through the cast. Behind the knee might help. Cools the blood. Hopefully will help with the swelling and the pain.”

  “Lord knows I need cool blood. Especially lookin’ at you.” He attempted, with his eyes closed, to slip in a laugh.

  I was sitting close to his face, close to those big screen, devilish eyes. It was all very surreal.

  “I don’t know anything about the accident.”

  “I was filming. On horseback. Something spooked the horse, probably a snake. The next thing I knew I had a thousand pounds of horse on top of me. He popped up right away or I probably would have been dead.”

  “Head’s okay?”

  He laughed, his head tilted back, exhaling his cigar smoke.

  “Well, my dear, that’s always up for debate. But, no injury. Few bruises on my back where I landed on some rocks.”

  “And the poor horse?”

  “Seemed fine. He hasn’t sent flowers, though. I’m a bit disappointed. I thought we
had something special.”

  Gabrielle got ready.

  “You’re sure this is the right one?” Ted asked.

  “Sure. Look at him, he’s gorgeous… rich, powerful. And our grandkids would look so adorable.”

  “I don’t know… he’s an actor. I liked the guy that opened the door.”

  “No harm in having more than one man around her, wild about her, protecting her.”

  “Oh, yeah. Ever heard of Helen of Troy… more than one man is a pile of trouble.”

  “Okay… here I go… Shazam!”

  She watched. Nothing happened.

  “Shazam!”

  “Would you cut that out! You got it all over her again.”

  She giggled. “I know.”

  “Gabby, you are hopeless. I’m going to the buffet. It’s all you can eat shrimp tonight.”

  “It’s heaven, dear. It’s all you can eat every night. I’m going to stay a while and watch.”

  “Behave!”

  “Yes, dear.”

  I leaned him forward and pulled his shirt up.

  “You know everybody takes my clothes off but, by God, I don’t get to take theirs off. Don’t worry, sweetheart, you’ll get used to me. Hell, you might even grow to like me.”

  I have to admit I didn’t want to leave the famous, fabulous Jack Nolan. But there was little I could do. He was fresh from surgery. He needed time to heal.

  A tingle kept bouncing around my chest and gut, though. There was one very important fact: I would be coming back.

  I had to stop at the store if I was going to eat that night. And I was starving.

  I bought milk, hamburger, and watermelon. Bread I got at the day-old bakery. My first payday was Friday. There were still a few pennies, one quarter and two dimes in my change jar.

  Sweat was dripping down my face as I carried the heavy watermelon and milk up the rusted wrought iron steps. My second floor apartment was a furnished studio in Van Nuys.

  It had once been a crappy motel. Now it was crappy apartments. Even though it smelled like the dirt under a rock, it wasn’t too bad. I got three stations on the television and it did have a pool.

  Every day I left a thread in the door jamb so that I could see if the door had been opened while I’d been gone. A life line. The white thread, barely visible, was right where I had left it.

  Once inside I switched on the joke of an air conditioner and cooked a small hamburger. I hooked the alarm on the door and began going over my daily paper work.

  Paper work soothed me. It gave my nervous brain something to ease into instead of thinking about Welsh and where he was.

  But tonight all I could think about was Jack. How he smelled of cigars and whiskey, how his rumbling laugh sent vibrations all the way through me.

  Next Tuesday

  I woke with the sun rudely shining in my eyes. The carpet felt like crumbling cardboard under my feet. I had to keep telling myself that this life was better. That at least I was alive.

  By the time I got to Jack’s I had seen six patients and I was a half hour late.

  Fritz was standing at the door smiling. The smile was a bit more relaxed than last week’s life-is-hell-here smile. He handed me a glass of iced tea.

  “Oh, wow, you are an angel. It is so hot. It’s cool in the morning so I wear something warm and then burn up all day. You’d think I would have figured it out.”

  “He’s asleep. Sleep medicine has knocked him out.”

  “Oh?”

  “Most of the afternoon.”

  “Good. He needs it. I hate to wake him.”

  I walked down the hallway to the den. The doors were open so I snuck in and put my things down.

  “Jack?” I whispered, tapping his shoulder.

  He stirred and opened his eyes.

  “I fell asleep,” he said and took my hand. His hands were rough and big. I instantly felt small, vulnerable, and… wanted. I didn’t think I’d include that in my patient notes.

  “Damn. I’ve been drooling. Probably dreaming about you. You are such a wonderful aspect of this hell, Sam. Sit next to me. You look tired.”

  “Just a busy day. And it’s hot out.”

  “Cool in here. You should stay with me.” He stroked the back of my hand.

  Such a simple touch. It was simply erotic.

  “How’s the pain?”

  “Little better today.”

  “I thought we’d take a walk. I see Fritz got your crutches. I have to warn you that the first time up may be a bit rough although you’ve been moving around a lot so it may be okay.”

  I buckled a gait belt around him.

  He leaned into my neck.

  “You smell wonderful,” he whispered, almost a kiss

  “Behave.”

  “I really don’t want to. I have never had fun behaving. Have you?”

  “Oh, yes. In my knitting class.”

  He stood and I could see the pain blast through him. His face turned scary pale but he wouldn’t sit back down.

  He struggled to walk to the French doors that led to the pool.

  “Let’s go out. Nice sunny day. A little skinny dipping.”

  “I’ve never been skinny dipping. And you’re not ready.”

  “’Sometimes you have to run before you learn how to walk.’ Do you know who said that?”

  “Sophocles.”

  “Nope.”

  “Shakespeare.”

  “Iron Man.”

  “Iron Man?”

  “One of my favorite movies. I love seeing the good guys kick butt.”

  “Let’s walk to the front door.”

  “I’m weak. Lying around too much.”

  "'Won't take long to get back on your feet…or foot for right now."

  “Sit.” He landed in a rocking chair and pointing to one for me. He was out of breath and dripping with sweat. I went in the house to get him a drink.

  Fritz was in the kitchen working on some blueprints.

  “Could I get a drink for Jack?”

  “Scotch?’

  I laughed.

  “Tea or some ice water.”

  “Okay. We’ll try iced tea. Maybe he’ll drink it for you.” He had that secret smirk again.

  Jack was rocking in the chair smiling when I came back.

  “I bet that’s scotch.”

  “Bad bet. You need to drink a lot of water. Helps to keep hydrated. You had a ton of anesthesia. I read your surgical summary. You were under for a long time. That’s one of the reasons you’re feeling crappy.”

  “Come sit beside me.”

  I sat down in a rocker, perching on the edge. I hated being in the open like this but I kept my body still, my smile etched on, so that he wouldn't notice.

  He drank some tea and played with one of his crutches, spinning it one way and back again.

  “You are gorgeous,” he said. His deep voice went places that made me blush.

  “Thanks.”

  “You don’t like it out here do you?”

  “It’s beautiful. Tomorrow we’ll try a few stairs and you can show me around.”

  The walk back to the den was better but it was obvious he was glad to go back to bed and get his foot up. I wrapped his knee in ice.

  “Sorry you can’t take pain pills. This must be very tough.”

  “It’s much better when you’re here. I think you should stay. The night.” He blew smoke rings with his cigar.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I smiled, glancing at the sky.

  “Rain?”

  “No. Not a cloud…”

  I nodded and left checking around before I got in my car.

  Robert always wore heavy boots when we went to blow a place. They were loud and people took notice. This gas station was run down, dirty. He was talking to himself.

  “Damn place is a pig sty, deserves to be hit.”

  He'd been in twice since they’d gotten to town. The thin metal base of the ATM bounced open with the first blast of his short barrel shotg
un.

  He howled and shot it again. Then he took the cash box. “Yup. That felt good. Good day’s work…”

  *

  Wednesday

  Stella called me at seven-fifteen. I could hear her rings clinking against the phone.

  “Charlene is sick…again…can you pick up two of her patients? They’re close together.”

  I thought about seeing Jack and not wanting to be late. But I was new with ProfessionalPlus and I didn’t want to screw it up.

  The additional calls made me late to see Jack. And I was really looking forward to seeing Jack. It was almost five when I pulled up.

  He was relaxing on the porch with his cigar and iced tea.

  “I’m so sorry I’m late. I had to pick up a couple of calls from a therapist who is sick.”

  “I’m not sorry. Now you get to meet Sarah.”

  “Oh, your wife?”

  Jack laughed.

  “No. There aren’t any of those around here. Come on. And I’ve been walking. Watch.” He stood up with his crutches, wavering a bit, and hopped into the house to the kitchen.

  I was starving and the entire house smelled of baked chicken and chocolate. Tonight I would again have a slim hamburger and a large slice of watermelon. I tried not to think about my stomach gnawing on itself.

  Sarah had the face of a beautiful owl, her eyes wide, light brown curly hair haloing her face. She was at least nine months pregnant. Maybe ten.

  “Hello. You’re Sam. I’m Sarah. I’m so sorry you have to put up with my boss but I have fixed roasted chicken and chocolate cake for you this evening. Compensation.”

  “Sarah’s been working her poor pregnant fingers to the bone to serve you dinner…so, you must stay. For her sake.”

  “Oh, I really mustn’t. That’s not what we’re…okay. I’ll stay. Thank you, Sarah. Thank you very much.”

  “I think we'll eat out by the koi pond. How’s little seven today?”

  “Quiet. He’s going to wait until I try to sleep to wake up and kick me,” she laughed. “Just like all my boys," she turned to me, "this will be seven. And the last.”

  “That’s what you said with four and five and six.” Jack patted her belly. He yelled at it, “wake up!”