Chapter 9

The fifty-five minute flight back to L.A. seems to take us forever. I really didn’t want to leave tonight without speaking to Ava first but it appears she’s screening her calls. Each time I dialed her cell it rang a few times then went straight to voice mail. Yep she was definitely screening her calls. I can’t blame her for this, I would have done the same, heck I have done the same in the past, but I’m frustrated as hell. I’ve lost count at how many messages I’ve left for her. I pray that when or even if she listens to her messages, that she can hear the sincerity in my voice. But I realize it’s not enough, I need to see her. I feel so out of control and if I didn’t need this appointment with Arnie so bad I would've canceled this trip and got Bill or BJ to drive me out to her apartment.

To make my mood sink even lower I have to listen to my lawyer and my new recently appointed manager babble on and on about the state of my finances (as if I didn’t already know this) and about some meeting they’ve got planned tomorrow with some guy called Darren Julien regarding the possibility of an auction.

They remind me that my personal belongings have to be removed from Neverland as part of the 'financial reorganization' of the ranch and I want to cry.

‘How did I get here’ I ask myself? I’ve lost so much over the past few years... my pride, my dignity, my credibility, my wealth and now Neverland? Where did it all go wrong?

I know Peter and Dr. Thome are only doing what I employ them to do but my head is not with it. I try my hardest but I can’t seem to focus on what they are saying so with a polite interruption I excuse myself for the bathroom and leave them to discuss my affairs without me.

Grabbing my briefcase and drink I make my way to the back of the private plane and lock myself in the bathroom. I need something, anything to take my mind of this mess that is my life. I promised myself I would try harder but the reality of the situation I’m in, well it's starting to get to me. I hate facing up to reality, always have done and with Ava not accepting my calls I feel so utterly helpless.

I open my case and remove the neatly stacked papers and files. Beneath them is a false compartment and as I lift it up already I’m feeling a little less anxious. I search around until I find the right bottle... Zoloft, this should help I think to myself as I shake a few into the palm of my hand.

Swallowing them in one go with my glass of whiskey I then return the bottle to the secret compartment inside my case, return the papers and files and lock the combination. For the next twenty minutes I remain seated on the toilet lid in the bathroom just waiting for the effects of the medication to rub off on me. As my anxiety levels start to subside and the gloominess that I’ve been feeling starts to lift, I hear a knock on the door. The flight attendant is informing me of our descent and that I need to return to my seat. Grudgingly I get up, pat myself down and take a deep breath, as I exit the bathroom and make my way back to my seat.

I’m starting to regret not bringing the children with me but it seemed pointless to uproot them from their routine for the sake of one measly day. However, their absence makes me nervous. Even though I know they are in safe hands and I trust Grace implicitly with their well-being, it’s just another anxious weight added to my shoulders.

I cannot wait to get this trip over with and get back to Vegas. Glancing at my Rolex I quickly work out that in less than fourteen hours I’ll be home and for me it cannot come quick enough.




~~~




“You have twelve new messages in your mailbox; to listen to the first message please dial one.” For the past five hours my cell phone has been going like crazy. After the first few times of cutting him off, I got tired of the incessant ring tone going on and on and on so I decided to simply turn my phone to vibrate. I haven’t listened to any of the messages that he’s left. I’m still angry and hurt. But as the hours pass me by I’m beginning to get curious. I want to hear what he has to say so I press option one.

“Uh, Ava, I uh, it’s Mike here and uh, I really need to speak with you. Please pick up, I, I’m, Ava I’m so sorry and I need to explain what happened earlier. I know you’re mad and upset and I’m sorry, really I uh, I’m truly sorry but please Ava, let me explain. Please? I’ll call you back in a bit. ‘K bye.”

Message 2 received at eleven forty-five am.

“Hi, it’s me again. I guess I don’t deserve your forgiveness but please Ava, please let me talk to you?” I should’ve stopped you leaving this morning, I know that now. I just, well, I just, I was angry Ava and I couldn’t say what I really wanted to say so I, I let you leave. I was stupid Ava, please let me explain. Please? I’ll call back in a bit. Bye.”

For the next half hour I listen to all of his desperate pleas and apologies and a part of me feels guilty for not giving him the chance to explain himself. But then again the other part of me argues that he didn’t extend the opportunity to me this morning so why should I right?

I know he’s sorry. By the fifth message I get that he’s sorry. I can hear the emotion in his voice and also the way it cracks every now and then. It tells me he’s being genuine with his words but at the moment it’s all too raw. They way he made me feel... like some cheap wh*re who was an easy lay. I saw the disgust in his eyes too when he caught me with his pills. Urgh, I’m such an idiot. Why did I let things get so out of hand last night? I’ve never slept with a man on the first night so why him? Why did I tell him I wanted to go all the way with him? What am I seventeen?!

Last night is exactly the reason why I don’t drink alcohol that much. I lose way too many of my inhibitions and end up regretting things in the morning.

As I chastise myself for being such a dumb a*s my vision is drawn back to the faint bruises on my wrists. I flashback to last night, to... he’s... we’re.... But hearing Shawna’s key in the lock brings me back to reality.

“Hey babe how’d it go last night? Must’ve been a good one ‘cos I saw your bed hadn’t been slept in” she chuckles and wiggles her eyebrows up and down a few times. “So come on girl, don’t keep me waitin’ I wanna know ALL the gory details and who is this mystery man?” 

She sits beside me on the sofa waiting eagerly for my reply but what do I say? I know I have to lie, she can never know the truth but she can read me like a book. We’ve been so close for so long that we’re more like sisters than cousins and don’t ask me how but she seems to have this in-built bull sh!t detector that goes off when I just think about lying even before it comes out of my mouth.

“Well?” she asks in amused tone, I can’t look at her she’ll know something’s wrong. Making sure the cuffs of my sweater are covering my wrists I quietly say “Do you mind if we talk about this later. I really need to go lie down for a bit?”

I pray that she lets the interrogation act go and I sigh a breath of relief when she says “Ok, we’ll talk later then?” It’s said more of a question than a statement, so I just nod my head in agreement and make my way to my bedroom. Once I’m safely inside the sanctity that is my room, I remove my sweater, crawl into bed and pull the covers over my body until they’re tucked underneath my chin. Maybe if I sleep a while it’ll help me to forget.Maybe... 




~~~~




After we landed at L.A.X. I had Mike G drive me straight to Bel Air. Even though I feel a little less anxious than before, I need to see Elizabeth desperately. I need an old friend to reassure me that I’m not a bad person, to lighten my somber mood and to tell me that she still believes in me even if no one else does.

Whenever I’ve faced difficulties in my life she has always been there to lend her support. She’s been the shoulder I’ve cried on for so many years I just don’t know what I would do if I were to lose her. Tossing that thought quickly from my head I chuckle as I think back to our conversation earlier.

“Miiiiichaell my darling” she says in a sing-song voice “how are you my love?”

“I’m good Elizabeth” I lie and hope she doesn’t call me out on it “I hope you’re well?”

After a few minutes of us discussing our health, the children and her dogs I ask “I’m in L.A. for the night and was wondering if I could stop by?”
I know its short notice but thankfully she scoffs at my small plea and says “My darling you know you can stop by any time you wish. My door is always open to My Peter.” She giggles like a school girl as she refers to me by the nick name she affectionately calls me when we’re in private.

I don’t know why I am blushing but I guess it’s because I hear the tenderness she has for me in her voice and her calling me Peter reminds me of a time years ago when I was convinced that I would marry her.

“Okay then, I guess I’ll see you soon Wendy” I hear a small giggle escape from her mouth as I say this softly.

“Not soon enough my darling boy, not soon enough” she says as she hangs up the phone.

~~~~




My impromptu visit with Elizabeth ended up being a flying one. Even though she had agreed to my visit she was actually in the middle of a meeting with her assistants Tim and Trish. They were planning her up and coming appearance at the Macy’s Passport Gala which would be raising vital funds for her AIDS Foundation. Her fight for this cause is another reason why I simply adore this woman so much.

Seeing her in a wheelchair though really pulls at my heart strings. Her youthfulness is still present with the way she laughs and gets excited when we talk, but it saddens me to see such a young soul trapped in an aging body. I know age catches up with us all in the end, but seeing Elizabeth like this is the reason I never want to grow old. The whole process of aging frightens me so much, especially when the body starts to break down and if I’m honest it’s because of this reason that my visits to Elizabeth have dwindled over the years. I can’t bear to see my Wendy grow old and with these thoughts I start to regret coming here tonight.

But right now I need a friend and she can sense that fact also as she dismisses her assistants so that we can have some privacy. At first we make idle chit-chat until she senses I am ready to talk. I don’t know how she does it but sometimes I swear this woman can read my mind.

She’s also very intuitive and asks me outright “Who is she?”

At first I don’t know how to begin but pretty soon I am spilling my guts to her. I omit the bits about the sex from my story – she doesn’t need to know all the details, but I do get across how much of an assh*le I’ve been.

She gets a right kick out of the fact that I’m going “ga-ga” as she likes to call it, over a twenty-six year old, but when I remind her that it’s no different to her and Larry she says with a fit of giggles “Oh yes my darling, I forgot about him.” 

We have a good laugh about that waste of space for a few minutes until we return back to the subject of Ava.

After hearing me out and passing on some of her “pearls of wisdom” she then starts to berate me in a mother like fashion. She reminds me that I’m the “King Of Pop” and that I should pull myself together, then pull out all the stops to win back Ava’s good graces. Only then will I be able to explain myself to her. I guess it’s the kick up the backside that I was looking for because already my mind is working overtime on how I could do just this.

I’m now feeling eager to return to my suite at the Beverley Wilshire so that I can come up with a way to redeem myself and as we say our goodbyes, I feel as though the dark cloud that has been doggin’ me all day is thankfully starting to go away.


~~~~


I hear a light tap on my bedroom door and before I can say “come in” Shawna has already stepped into my room.

“Hey sleepy head you ok? You’ve been asleep for hours” she says as she makes her way further inside and sits beside me on my bed.

“I brought you some hot chocolate.” She waits for me to sit up and then hands me the steaming hot mug.

“Thank you” I say groggily. This is one of our rituals and has been since we were teenagers. Whenever one of us had been upset or hurt by something or someone we’d always find comfort with this little display of affection. It was our way of saying “I’m here for you.”

Picking out one of the marshmallows that are floating on top of the hot drink, I pop one into my mouth. I haven’t eaten since last night and the gooey sugary treat is a welcome relief to my poor empty stomach.

When I bring the mug up to my lips within a moment I realize my mistake as Shawna catches sight of the marks on my wrists.

“Ava what the fu*k?” She says in shock. She’s now pulling at my other arm that’s been tucked away hiding beneath the sheets.

Before I can protest she’s staring at me with a look of disbelief as she turns my palm over so that she can get a good look.

“Shawn, it’s nothing” I tell her trying to free myself from her clutches by pulling back my hand but she’s holding onto me tight.

“What do you mean it’s nothing, who the f**k did this to you girl? I swear if it was Lucas I’m gonna flip on the brotha.” She says this last bit with gritted teeth.

Lucas I think to myself? Why the heck would she think Lucas had anything to do with this?

“Shawn, what are talking about? Why would you think it was Lucas?” I wait for her to tell me as she gets up and starts to slowly pace up and down my room whilst running her fingers through her hair.

For the next five minutes I just sit there slowly taking in what she is telling me. I already knew that Lucas was pis*ed that I hadn’t answered any of his calls and I knew he was eager to add me to his list of girls. Figuring he would just take the hint and realize I had changed my mind, I thought he would just back off. Only now I think about just how naive I’ve really been.

She tells me that he’s pis*ed because he had set me up with one of his biggest clients and that I owed him... big. 

Wait a sec? Did I hear that right? Michael is one of Lucas’ clients? Why would he say that? The way Michael acted when we talked about Lucas, he couldn’t be, could he?

It dawns on me that Shawna hasn't got the slightest idea of who this ‘big client’ actually is and I need to keep it that way. If I tell Shawna the truth before I’ve had a chance to confront Michael myself, I know some how all hell will break loose. I love my cousin to bits but she can be pretty damn crazy when she sets her mind to it especially where I’m concerned.

I remember one time when I was a sophomore in high school and she was a senior, we had been hanging out in her parent’s basement with her jock of a boyfriend Jason. He thought because he was captain of the football team he could say and do whatever he pleased and most of the time he did.

So when Shawna had left us alone to get us some drinks and snacks, Jason thought it would be fun to try and get fresh with me. When she heard me screaming because he had pinned me down on the sofa and started to grind himself on me, she had literally jumped the basement steps in one leap. She flung herself on top of him and started to pummel on his back and then proceeded to scratch the hell out of his face so that he would get off of me.

She earned herself a black eye in the struggle but let’s just say our boy Jason never once looked in my direction again whenever I saw him around. It was probably because Shawna had threatened to tell all his friends some freaky sh!t he was into. Needless to say whatever dirt she had on him, her threat worked a treat because like I said, I never got any hassle from him again.

See Shawna felt like I was her responsibility. She had her reasons but I don’t really wanna go into them now, but she had always been overprotective of me. She would always say “Anyone that messes with you cous, messes with me.”
Deep down I know she had a heart of gold but she could never let go of her feistiness and with this job she now has, sometimes I see that part of her getting worse. So that’s why I’m afraid about her knowing what’s happened between me and Michael. She wouldn’t give two sh!ts about how rich or famous he is, she would find a way to hurt him back and quite frankly that thought scares me to death.

So I tell her that yes Lucas did introduce me to a man at the club that night but that I didn’t think he was a client, he seemed more of an acquaintance. I tell her that the man acted like he couldn’t stand Lucas or even the sight of him. I then tell her that I did leave with the man but only because he offered me a ride home and that’s it. I tell her I haven’t seen the man since because I realized that night I just couldn’t work for Lucas. Even though I envied her gusto in getting what she wanted out of life, I tell her that I’m not like her and I’m not strong enough to do what she does.

I can see a hurt expression start to shadow her face as I say all of this, but she knows deep down that I’m not trying to offend her, I’m trying to say it as it is. Within seconds though the hurt look has disappeared and she’s back to worrying about me again.

I eventually convince her that I’m fine and the marks are nothing to worry about, they’re just the result of some fun I had with some kinky guy who I’d been dating recently. I manage to have a good laugh about this with her even though inside I’m really torn up. There are so many questions that are consuming every thought in my head and the sooner I speak to Michael the better. I need to hear his side of the story. I need him to tell me he’s not a client of Lucas’ and that he didn’t pay a dime for my company. I honestly don’t know how I’ll react if he admits yes to any of this but I have to know. I have to hear it from him.

With Shawna now taking a bath I return to the living room to retrieve my cell phone. As I pick up my phone from the coffee table I hear someone knocking at the door. I quietly creep towards the door and take a peek through the spy hole.

My discussion with Shawna has left me a bit on edge and I pray that I don’t see Lucas’s smug face standing outside. When I see that it’s a delivery guy of some sort I exhale the breath that I’ve been holding in for the past minute or so and unlock the door.

“Hi there ma’am, are you Ava Phillips?” He reads off of a clipboard.

“Yes sir, I’m Ava” I tell him politely.

“Oh good, I’m glad you’re home. I didn’t wanna unload my truck and then have no-one answer” he chuckles.

Unload his truck? What is he talking about?

With that he gets on a walkie talkie and says “Ok guys the lady is home, can you start bringing ‘em up?” The radio crackles as the person on the other end replies “No problem Doug we’ll be right up.”

Okay so now I’m seriously confused but when I hear the elevator doors ping open and I see three other men walking towards me with bouquet after bouquet of all different types of beautiful flower arrangements - I’m stunned. I don’t even know the names to half of these flowers I think to myself. I do recognize roses; I can see pink, yellow, white and red versions. I see carnations, daisies, lilies, tulips, sunflowers and forget-me-nots.

By the time the delivery men have made their fifth and final trip from their van, I look around in amazement as nearly every inch of the living room floor is covered in different size bouquets.

“I guess he’s sorry” I hear Doug say as he laughs. “Could you please sign here for me ma’am, oh and before I forget, this is also for you.” He hands me an envelope and on the front it simply readsAva.

When my blushing finally subsides and I come back to my senses I ask the men to wait for me to get my purse. These poor guys deserve a decent tip, but I’m interrupted by Doug telling me that the tip has already been handled but thanks anyway.

With the cheesiest of grins they tip their caps to me in the cutest way possible and I’m now left standing in the doorway speechless. My hands are shaking as I begin to tear open the envelope. Inside is an A4 sheet of paper which looks like it’s been faxed through to the florist as it has Enchanted Florist printed at the top of the paper.

I begin to focus on what’s printed below and I see messy child-like handwriting filling the page. I close the front door, weave my way through the bouquets that are covering the floor and sit on the sofa preparing myself with a deep breath before I begin to read.

Dear Ava,

I know This might not mean much to You but I had to try Something, Anything to Show you how truly Sorry I am. I wasn’t Sure what you’re favourite flower is So I thought If I Sent you every flower that the florist had instock hopefully Yours will be amongst them.

I Know This doesn’t make up for the way I Acted but I hope Its a Start.

P.S. I’m not very good at talking So I Thought Id tell you how I feel in A poem. Please Believe Me Ava this is how I feel and this is what You mean To Me.

M.

             

Star light, Star Bright,
The first star I see ToNight,
I wish I may, I wish I might,
Have The wish I wish ToNight.

I am So Sorry Ava for last night,

How I Treated you, IT just wasn’t right,

Such a fool; I should’ve held you Tight,

Please forgive me, say you might?

 
I was wrong, I acted in Spite,
I let you go, to catch a flight,
I was angry, but soon after Contrite,
With all my heart, I prayed that Night;

That You Could forgive, please say you might,

I’ll do anything Ava to make things right,

Dark days are fading; love is in Sight,

Help Me to get there, help Me to fight.

 
Answer My prayers, when I call tonight,

Talk to Me Ava, hear My plight,

Should you decide, I’m Not worth the fight?

 Look up To the sky on this very night.

You and all others will see a new Sight,
The fairest of Stars that shines so Bright,
It now has your name, I hope that’s alright?

I bought it for you, I hope it delights?!