My blush burns my cheek, reminding me of all that happened since that moment of bliss.
“I know Roe didn’t cause that.” Her shaking hand points to my face.
“He would never hurt me,” I agree.
The boys exchange glances and Mrs. J. chuckles.
“Oh, girl you got it bad. Why so glum?” Her hand is dry but smooth and so frail.
“No. No, Mrs. J. I’m here for you. How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine. Just stiff. And old. I don’t want to talk about it. Why do you look like someone is dying? It ain’t me. The good Lord can’t have me yet.” There’s a steel resolve in her voice that makes me feel better. “Tell me about your man.”
The boys are way too interested. I shoot them a glare. They don’t even have the shame to be abashed.
“There’s not much to tell. We had a good night but now he’s on a plane to get away from me.”
“Men. They’re idiots.”
“No. This time I think it was me.” I slide a chair next to her. My gaze strays to the guys. “Might as well get comfy too. I was too focused on my career. He got in the crossfire.”
“We saw the article.” Russell crosses his arms. “We don’t believe it.”
“It’s not true. He would never do that,” I say doubting they’ll believe me.
“Did you write that then?” Russell asks.
“I didn’t.”
“We didn’t believe that either,” Danny says.
“You didn’t?” I ask them.
“Hell, no,” Mrs. J. adds. “Also, it didn’t sound like you. Not your voice.”
“Makes no sense. Why would he use the names of his characters? It points right to him,” Russell says.
“Exactly. But there’s nothing to be done. I called my editor, and she’s printing a retraction and taking my name off. But the story is getting way too much publicity. It’s been copied and reposted a million times no doubt.”
They’re all silent.
“I’m still confused,” Danny says.
How much do I tell? These secrets and lies and manipulations are tiresome. I just want somebody to tell my woes to. After a moment’s hesitation, the whole story from the very beginning comes tumbling out. Well, except the invisibility stuff. I don’t want them to think I’m crazy.
I start with the hotel room and end with the cabin. It doesn’t matter if I tell them about Zebulund. It’s not like they can do anything. I can’t do anything. Nobody can. When the story is over, silence greets me. The three of them take their time digesting.
“It’s my fault. I went up to that room—”
“I’m going to stop you right there.” Mrs. Jenkins holds up her hand. “You forget how long I’ve been in this town. Nothing about what you said sounds like anything less than the truth. I’ve had my fair share of hotel rooms… and closets… and offices.” Tears hover on the brinks of her already watery eyes. “It doesn’t matter if you went to his room or he came to your trailer. He wanted you and he would’ve had you. Men like that don’t care.”
I take a deep breath in and let it out, shocked that another person believes me and doesn’t blame me.
“It happened to me once too.” Danny sniffs and Russell grabs his hand. “When I first got into broadcasting. A morning show host. Super popular. He told me he’d set up my career. At the time I told myself it was mutual.” He looks to Russell. “Now I understand that it was abuse. I had no choice.”
“I’m sorry.” I don’t know what else to say. It doesn’t make me feel better that we all have stories. It makes it worse. Are there no good people? Is everyone a predator when given an ounce of power?
I let out a sigh and stare at Mrs. J. Even now she has makeup applied and her hair coiffed. She’s classic Hollywood.
