Amazing Grace Page 21

  “I won't. I love you too.” They had been dating now for over a month. It wasn't long, and things had started to move quickly since they came to Vegas. But they had been through so much together in San Francisco that their romance had taken off at a rapid rate. He was the nicest man she'd ever known. “See you soon.”

  “You bet!” He kissed her one last time, and was the last to board the plane. She hobbled back through the terminal then on her crutches, and crawled into the limousine at the curb. Her ankle was killing her, more than she had wanted to admit to Tom.

  When she got back to her suite at the Paris, she put an ice pack on it, which hardly helped, and took some Motrin to bring the swelling down. Her mother found her lying on the couch in the living room at midnight, and Melanie admitted to her that the ankle really hurt.

  “You've got to go on in Phoenix tomorrow,” her mother warned her. “They're sold out too. We'll get you another shot in the morning. You can't miss that show, Mel.”

  “Maybe I can do it sitting down,” Melanie said as she touched it and winced.

  “Your dress will look like shit if you do,” her mother commented. Melanie had never missed a single performance, and she didn't want her to start now. Rumors about that kind of thing spread like wildfire, and could destroy the reputation of a star. But her mother could see that she was really hurt. Melanie was always a good sport about injuries, and she never complained, but this one seemed more serious.

  Tom called her before she went to sleep that night, and she lied and told him the ankle was better, so he wouldn't worry. He said he already missed her. She had a picture of him next to her bed when she fell asleep.

  Her ankle was more swollen in the morning, and Pam took her to the hospital. The head ER doctor recognized her immediately and escorted her into a stall. He said he didn't like the look of it and wanted another X-ray. When she had hurt it, the medics who saw her the first time had said that it was just a bad sprain. The head of the emergency room wasn't convinced. And he was right. When he checked the X-ray, he showed her a hairline crack. He said she had to wear a hard cast for the next four weeks, and try to stay off it as much as she could.

  “Yeah. Right,” she laughed, and then groaned. It hurt every time she moved. The performance was going to be agony that night, if she could even do it. “I'm playing to a packed house in Phoenix at eight o'clock,” she explained. “And I still have to get there. They didn't pay to watch me hobble onstage in a cast,” she said, as she almost cried moving it.

  “What about a boot?” the ER doctor suggested. He treated a lot of performers, some of whom had fallen offstage or worse. “You can take it off when you go on. But don't even think of wearing platforms or high heels.” He knew the breed well, and she looked guilty the minute he said it.

  “My costumes will look like shit with combat boots,” she said.

  “You'll look worse in a wheelchair if it gets any more swollen. The boot ought to do it. Just wear flats when you perform. And you gotta use the crutches,” he informed her. She had no other choice. The ankle was excruciatingly painful, and she couldn't put any weight on it at all.

  “Okay, I'll try the boot,” she conceded. It went up to her knee, was made of a shiny black plastic material, and had Velcro straps to hold her leg in. And as soon as she stood on it, it gave her considerable relief. She hobbled out of the emergency room in the boot, with the crutches, while Pam paid the bill.

  “Looks cute,” Janet said jauntily, as she helped Melanie into the limousine. They had just enough time to pick up their bags, meet the others, and head to the airport for their flight to Phoenix. Melanie knew it would be crazy from now on. Their concert tour had begun, and she'd be all over the States for the next ten weeks.

  She put her leg up on a pillow in their chartered plane. The band played liar's dice and poker, and Janet joined them. She glanced over at her daughter a couple of times and tried to make her more comfortable. In the end, Melanie took a couple of pain pills and went to sleep. Pam woke her up when they got to Phoenix and one of the guys from the band carried her down the stairs. She was looking sleepy and a little pale.

  “You okay?” Janet asked her as they got into another limousine, a white one again. They would have hotel suites and limousines waiting for them in every city where they went.

  “I'm fine, Mom,” Melanie reassured her, and when they got to their hotel rooms, Pam ordered lunch for all of them, while Melanie called Tom. “We're here,” she said, trying to sound livelier than she was. She was still groggy from the pain pills, but the boot helped when she walked. She could hardly move without the crutches.

  “How's your ankle?” he asked, sounding concerned.

  “I've still got it. They put me in some kind of a removable cast thing in Vegas before we left. I look like a cross between Darth Vader and Frankenstein. But it actually helps. I can take it off when I'm onstage.”

  “Is that smart?” Tom asked, sounding like the voice of reason.

  “I'll be fine.” She had no other choice. She did what the doctor had suggested and wore flats that night. They had taken the rising platform out of the show because she was afraid of falling and getting hurt again. She always said she felt like the Flying Wallendas when she used it, and said she should have a net. She had fallen off it twice before, but this was the first time she had actually gotten injured. It hurt, but it could have been worse.

  She hobbled onto the stage with her crutches that night and laid them down. They had given her a tall chair to sit on, and she joked about it with the crowd. She said she'd done it having sex, which they thought was funny. And the audience forgot about it as soon as she started her show. She sat down on stage for most of the performance that night, but no one seemed to mind. She had worn hot pants, fishnet stockings, and a red-sequined bra. And even in flat shoes, she looked hot. She kept the encores short that night. She was dying to get back to her room and take another pill. She went right to sleep after she did, even before she called Tom to tell him how the show went. He had told her he was going to L.A. for dinner with his sister, and didn't call her either. But normally, they talked to each other all the time on their cell phones.

  They spent two days in Phoenix, and from there they flew to Dallas and Fort Worth. They did two shows in each city, one in Austin, and another at the Astrodome in Houston. She was religiously wearing the boot while she was offstage, and her foot was better. They finally got two days off in Oklahoma City, which was sheer heaven. They were flying all over the country, and she was working hard. Performing with an injury was just one of the challenges she had to face while doing concerts. One of the roadies had broken an arm, and their sound man slipped a disk, carrying heavy equipment. But whatever happened, they all knew the show had to go on. It wasn't an easy life when they were on the road. The hours were exhausting, the performances were tough, and their hotel rooms were dreary. Whenever possible, they got suites. They got stretch limousines at every airport, but there was nowhere to go in them, except between the concert hall and hotel. In a lot of cities, they played in stadiums. It was all part of life as they made their way from city to city. After a while, all the places they went looked the same and they forgot where they were.

  “God, I could use a break from this,” Melanie said to her mother one particularly hot night in Kansas City. It had been a good show, but she'd turned her bad ankle hopping off the stage, and it hurt more than ever. “I'm tired, Mom,” she admitted, and her mother gave her a nervous look.

  “If you want to keep selling platinum, you have to go on the road,” her mother said practically. She knew a lot about the business, and Melanie knew she was right.

  “I know, Mom.” Melanie didn't argue with her, but she looked worn out when she got back to the hotel. She couldn't wait to have a hot bath and go to bed. She had meant what she said. She was dying for some time off. They were all getting a weekend off when they got to Chicago. Tom was planning to fly in to meet her. Melanie could hardly wait.

 
“She looks tired,” Pam commented to Janet. “It can't be fun to perform on that ankle.” They had gotten stools put on stage for her in every city, but it was obvious the ankle wasn't healing and Melanie was in a lot of pain. When she wasn't performing, she hobbled around on her crutches with her black boot. It gave her some relief, but not enough. And the ankle was still just as swollen. It hadn't improved at all. It would have been infinitely worse without their own plane. At least she could lie down on every flight. Flying commercial with all their equipment would have been nearly impossible, and would have driven them all insane. Checking luggage and equipment in would have required their spending hours boarding the flight. This way they just loaded up and took off.

  When Tom met her in Chicago, he was surprised at how tired and pale she looked, and she was absolutely exhausted.

  He was waiting for her at the hotel when they got in from the airport, and he spun her around in his arms, even with the heavy boot, and then set her down gently on a chair. She was beaming from ear to ear. He had checked in to their suite half an hour before she arrived. It was a decent hotel, and they had a giant suite. But Melanie was sick of room service, signing autographs, and performing night after night no matter how much pain she was in. Tom was shocked at how swollen and painful her ankle still was.

  They were playing a concert on Tuesday. And it was only Saturday night. Tom was leaving on Monday morning, to get to work in L.A. He had started the job after she left, and said he loved it. The travel they were promising him sounded terrific. It was with an urban planner, and although most of their jobs were for profit, they had several going that were in developing countries where they offered their services for free to governments, which was right up Tom's alley. She was proud and impressed by his humanitarian side, and she was happy he had found a job he liked. Tom had been worried about finding employment when he came back to Pasadena. He didn't even mind the commute to L.A. After the earthquake in San Francisco, he was happy to be back. And finding this job had been the perfect opportunity for him.

  Tom took her out to dinner that night, and she ate an enormous greasy hamburger, with fried onion rings. And after that they went back to the hotel and talked about a lot of things. She told him about all the cities they had been to and various incidents along the way. Sometimes being on the road was like kids going to camp, or young soldiers being shipped out.

  There was a constant sense of temporary living, breaking camp, and moving on. It was fun at times, and the atmosphere between them was great, but it was exhausting anyway. To break the monotony of traveling so much, the band and roadies had water balloon fights and threw some out the windows of the hotel, designed to hit pedestrians on the street below. The manager caught on to them eventually, came upstairs, and gave them a sound scolding. They were like children with nothing better to do. The roadies and guys in the band got into a fair amount of mischief when they had time off, mostly going to topless bars and strip joints, hanging out in bars, and getting drunk. Tom enjoyed talking to them and thought they were a lot of fun. But what interested him most was being with Melanie. He was beginning to miss her more and more when they were apart. And Melanie had told Pam conspiratorially that she was falling more and more in love with Tom. He was the nicest boyfriend she'd ever had, and she said she felt really lucky to have him in her life. Pam reminded her that she was one of the hottest stars in the world at the moment, and he was lucky too. Besides, she was a nice person. Pam had known Melanie since she was sixteen, and thought she was one of the kindest people she'd ever met, unlike her mother, who could be really tough. Pam thought Tom and Melanie were a very good match. They were similar in disposition, easygoing and friendly, they were both intelligent, and he didn't appear to be jealous of her stardom or her work, which was incredibly rare. Pam knew that there weren't many people on the planet like them, and thanks to Melanie, she thoroughly enjoyed her work.

  Tom and Melanie had a fantastic time in Chicago. They went to movies, museums, and restaurants, went shopping, and spent a lot of time in bed. When she went out, she used the crutches and wore the cumbersome black boot. Tom wanted her to. It was a terrific weekend, and Melanie was grateful that he was able to fly around to meet her as much as he did. He was using all his free air miles. The anticipation of seeing him, and the cities they discovered together made the tour far more tolerable for her. They were headed for the East Coast next, all the way up to Vermont and Maine. They were playing concerts in Providence and Martha's Vineyard. Tom said he would try to come back for Miami and New York.

  The weekend whizzed by them, and she hated to see him leave again. The air was hot and muggy when she walked out to the curb with him while he hailed a cab. The boot had helped her, and the break from working, and she was in less pain by the time Tom left. She parked the boot near her bed at night, and she felt like she was taking off a wooden leg. Tom teased her about it, and she threw it at him once. It nearly knocked him down.

  “Hey you, go easy. Behave yourself!” he scolded her, and then hid it under the bed. They were like kids sometimes and always had a lot of fun. They each enhanced the other's life, and seemed to fall more and more in love. For Tom and Melanie it was a summer of discovery and joy.

  In San Francisco, Seth and Sarah had accepted the first offer on their house. It was a good one. The people were moving to town from New York, and wanted it in a hurry. They paid just over the asking price, and wanted a rapid closing. Sarah hated to see the house go, and felt bereft about it, but she and Seth were both relieved that it had sold. It went into escrow immediately, and Sarah shipped the things they were selling to Christie's. She sent the master bedroom furniture, a few things from the living room, and the children's clothes and some of their furniture to her new flat on Clay Street. They would be sharing a room now, instead of each having their own, so they didn't need as much. All the files and papers in Seth's office went to the Heartbreak Hotel on Broadway. They divided up the kitchen things. She sent a couch and two club chairs to Seth. And the rest went into storage. The art was sent to auction in New York. She was saddened to see how fast their home came apart, not unlike their lives. In a matter of days, the house was empty, and looked ransacked and unloved. Watching it happen reminded her of their marriage coming apart. It was amazing how little it took to undo it. It depressed her as she walked around the house for a last time on their final day. She found Seth standing in his office, looking as depressed as she felt. She had just come down from the children's rooms, to make sure everything was on the truck. Parmani had taken the children to her house for the night, so Sarah could get everything set up on Clay Street.

  “I hate to leave,” Sarah said, looking at him. He nodded, and then looked into her eyes with deep regret.

  “I'm sorry, Sarah …I never thought this would happen to us.” She noticed that for once he said “to us,” instead of just “to me.”

  “Maybe it'll all work out.” She didn't know what else to say, and neither did he. She went and put her arms around him then, to give him comfort. He stood there for a long moment with his arms at his sides, and then he put his arms around her too. “Come and see the kids whenever you want,” she said generously. She hadn't been to see a lawyer for a divorce. There was time for that, and she had to be at the trial with him anyway. Henry Jacobs said her presence would be an unspoken but crucial positive factor in her husband's defense. They had hired two more attorneys to defend him. They and Henry would work as a team. Seth needed all the help he could get. Things were not looking good for him.

  “Are you going to be okay?” Seth asked her with a look of deep concern. For the first time in a long time, his narcissism actually included someone else on the screen, other than himself. Sarah thought it was a first, and it meant a lot to her. They had had such a tough time ever since Seth's arrest.

  “I'll be all right,” Sarah said to him as they stood in the dining room for the last time.

  “Call me if you need me, any hour, any time,” Seth said, looking
mournful, and then they both went outside. It was the end of their life together, the disappearance of their home. He had put an end to life as they had known it. And as she looked back at the brick house she loved, Sarah just stood there and cried. She was crying for their marriage and lost dreams, not the house. It nearly ripped Seth's heart out to see how upset she was. “I'll come by and take the kids out tomorrow,” he said hoarsely. Sarah turned away and nodded, slipped into her car, and drove toward Clay. It was the beginning of her new life, and in her rearview mirror, she saw Seth get into his new silver Porsche that wasn't even paid for yet, and drive away. Her heart sank as she watched him. It was as though the man she had loved and married, and had two children with, had just died.

  Chapter 16

  Sarah's new flat on Clay Street was in a small Victorian house that had recently been renovated and painted. It was a duplex, and was neither elegant nor pretty, but Sarah knew it would look better to her when she unpacked their things. The first room she unpacked was the children's. She wanted them to feel at home the next day when they returned. She put out their favorite possessions and treasures lovingly and slowly, afraid that something might have broken in the boxes, but nothing had. So far, everything looked okay. She spent hours unpacking books, and two hours organizing linens and beds. They had gotten rid of so many things, that their lives suddenly seemed very spare. It was still hard to believe that, thanks to Seth's incredible perfidy, everything in their lives had changed. The articles that had continued to appear in the local and national press had been humiliating beyond belief. But humiliation or not, what she needed most was a job. She had called some contacts, but needed to make an all-out effort in the next few days.

  And then, while she was going through some papers for the benefit, she had an idea. It was far below her skill level, but at this point, she was going to be grateful for any job she could get. She called the head of the neonatal unit on Wednesday afternoon, while both her children were taking a nap. She had cut Parmani's hours down as much as she could, and once she found a job, she was planning to increase them again. The sweet Nepalese woman was gentle and understanding. Her heart went out to Sarah and the children, and she wanted to do everything she could to help. By then, she had read all the articles too.