Crosswind

Chapter Three: Saving Grace

In a funny way, God did cut me some slack that day…that’s when I met Hannah. And, oddly enough, He saved me. Looking back on it now, if I hadn’t met Hannah then, I would have gone down a dark path that would probably end in complete destruction on my part.

Soon after meeting her, I weaned myself off of the drugs, I stopped calling random girls for booty calls, and I managed to clean myself up some, and allowed people to come within a five-foot radius of my sorry ass without yelling at them for no reason whatsoever.

But the most important thing was, she got me to start writing again. The record label was getting upset because all I could do was sit on my ass after having my heart broken and they wanted me to use my feelings to their advantage. I knew if I started to record a new CD after those various incidents, I would be looking at another Justified and I definitely didn’t want that at all. I believe that I have to evolve in my music and I wasn’t going to be doing that should I start writing right after another heart break.

So I took the time off, but last year the label was getting antsy and wanted new reports from my camp. I was getting to the point where I didn’t want to do what I loved anymore but then Hannah came into my life, and inspiration struck.

She not only saved me emotionally, but she saved my career, too.

“So are you going to be home for dinner tonight?” she questions me as I walk through the bright green corridors of the Dreamworks Picture’s Studio space. I’m doing pick ups for the new Shrek movie and once I’m finished with that, I’m on my way home to delight myself with good company.

“Yeah. I’ll be back before six,” I state simply as I walk into the studio space that’s been reserved for me. Rob, my AR guy, looks up and waves before he continues to tinker with the large television screen I’ll be watching my character from. Whoever said doing character acting was a lot like recording an album was a head case.

“Oh good. I might be home at seven or so…”

“You have rehearsal tonight?” I question and I can just imagine her nodding her response to whoever is around her before she realizes that I’m not with her and she adds a meek ‘yes.’

“Double header. I’ve got children’s choir and adult chorale,” she explains quickly and I can’t help but beam at pride at all of her accomplishments.

“Well then I’ll get started and then you can come over and help me finish up dinner.”

“Is it alright if Beth-Ann joins us?” Hannah has some weird request that we try to immerse ourselves in each other’s families. Trace thinks it’s a retarded idea, but I like that I get to know about the people most important in Hannah’s life and I’d like to think that my family enjoys spending time with my girlfriend. I know my Mama does.

“Of course, the more the merrier,” I state joyously before Rob gives me a thumbs up to show that we’re ready to start recording, “I’ve got to go Han-Solo…I’ll see you later tonight.”

“Okay,” she says with a giggle, “I love you!”

“I love you, too.” And her voice disappears as we both turn off our phones.

“You’re one lucky guy,” Rob explains as he nudges me into my recording booth. I pick up the headphones and jam them on my head, a goofy ass grin on my face. This is what Hannah makes me feel when I just hear her voice. Whenever we’re in the same room I just explode with happiness.

“Don’t have to tell me twice. Let’s get started with this!” I proclaim before Rob starts to tinker with the bells and whistles on the sound board. I want to get this done as fast as I can so I’ll get home earlier.

“Don’t come home.”

“What?”

“I’m serious man, don’t come home,” Trace whispers fiercely into the telephone. I’m ten minutes away from my house and for some reason Trace wants to keep me from arriving at my kind of humble abode.

“Why not?”

“Because she’s here!” he seethes and I Trace doesn’t have to tell me twice. It seems that Beth has arrived early and poor Trace has to endure the wrath of Hannah’s older sister.

“So? What is she doing?”

“Well nothing right now,” Trace explains, “She’s still standing outside.”

“You haven’t let her in yet?” I bellow into the phone, “Trace, come on man! This is practically our family!”

“Well she has a huge ass manuscript in her hand and I know she’s just finished some highly erotic smut romance novel. I don’t want to hear about Randolpho and his quivering member!” Trace shrieks in a scandalized voice.

“Oh please. You have the biggest collection of video porn out of anybody I know. And I’m including Marty…”

“Well that shit is different. That’s visual. I don’t like to hear any sexual stimulation coming from the mouth of a thirty year old that looks like a fifteen year old!” Trace bitches and I know that I’m never going to hear the end of this. Ever.

“You can’t let her stand outside, let her in!” I command and Trace huffs and complains some more. “I’m serious Trace. You can’t leave my girlfriend’s sister standing outside on our front stoop. You know she isn’t going to go away because we invited her over for dinner…”

“Then why is she showing up on our fucking doorstep at five thirty?”

“Because sometimes people come over early for dinner? I don’t know, just let her in!”

“No. I’m not going to,” Trace says stubbornly.

“I swear to God, Trace if she isn’t inside with a drink in her hand by the time I’m in the door, you’ll be sleeping on the fucking gravel tonight,” I threaten before I turn off my phone and speed faster towards the house that Trace and I share in the Hollywood Hills.

Five minutes later I’ve pulled my car in the garage and I’ve entered the kitchen. There’s an excited squeal from the living room and Hannah’s sister Beth comes gallivanting into the living room, a huge smile plastered on her little girl face.

Beth-Ann Mills may be thirty years old, but she doesn’t look a day over sixteen. She has that kind of face that makes her look like a teenager and it doesn’t help that she has the body of a stick figure and is about an inch shy of reaching five foot one inch.

“Justin! How are you?” she questions before she gives me a huge hug. I’m a foot taller than she is and yet she hugs like she towers a foot above me. I always joke around Trace that they’d be a perfect fit seeing as she’s just his size but he always yells at me for being an asshole.

“Good and how are you?”

“Fabulous! I’m glad you’re here! I was just settling down with Trace to go over my new manuscript! I think Let Him Rip is going to be my next greatest best seller!” she proclaims. How this girl comes from a pious family and yet has the time to make a living writing trashy romance novels is beyond me.

“Great!” I say with mock excitement, “But I was actually going to get dinner started.” Any excuse to not hear about whatever male character and how large his dick is. I don’t need penis envy from a fictional character.

“Well I can sit on one of the counters while you and Trace get supper ready! I’ll call him in!” And before I can tell her that it isn’t such a good idea, she’s already bellowing for Trace to come into the kitchen.

He walks in, begrudgingly as if this is all my fault and soon Beth has started her telling tale of a woman named Elizabeth Cummings and how she cannot stand the insufferable jack ass Gregory Dildonigan. Really, all these allusions to the penis are astounding and I’m shocked that she’s able to put that much into ten pages when there’s almost three hundred to go.

“Should I just skip to the good part?” Beth questions twenty minutes into my cooking dinner.

“No! Keep going,” Trace says before I can. We both know the best part is when Elizabeth and Gregory have hot kinky sex in some exotic location and I’d rather not have Hannah walk into the kitchen to find her sister reading about some man penetrating a woman with Trace and I listening on.

“Okay,” she says quietly before she starts into the story again.

“‘I can’t believe you could do this to me!’ Gregory shouted as he turned around from the threshold of the door and began to run away from Elizabeth and her latest conquest, Timothy. Gregory had never been more hurt in his life. He had pushed Elizabeth away at the last second and it wasn’t until he had gone a week without her that he knew that he didn’t want to be without her. And now she had moved on quickly and that was what hurt him most of all.

‘Would you let me explain, Gregory?’ Elizabeth cried from the top of the stairs. But Gregory was already running down the stairwell, wishing his heart would stop breaking, wishing that Elizabeth didn’t have this sort of power over him. ‘It’s not what you think!’

‘Like hell it is!’ he yelled back, ‘I can’t believe you could be so cold and so unforgiving! I did my best by you and what do you do? You tell my worst enemy about my deepest confessions!’ Gregory’s face twisted in a mask of rage as he looked up at Elizabeth who was standing at the top of the stairs.

‘Gregory, I love you.’

‘No…no, you don’t.’ Gregory muttered…” Beth’s voice fades away as my breathing becomes labored and I turn away from the woman and look out the window.

“Stop,” I snarl and my hands are holding onto the wine glass that I’m gripping. I’m holding it so tightly that it shatters in my grasp. I look down and breathe sharply as a shard of glass cuts into my palm.

Beth stops reading immediately as I drop the remains of the glass into the sink and turn to look at Trace. The look on his face says it all. He’s reminded of the exact same thing that’s plaguing my mind right now.

“We’re done with the story,” Trace whispers forcefully as I rush out of the kitchen and towards the bathroom. I can hear the garage door opening through the walls of the house and realize that Hannah’s home. Perfect timing.

I run into the bathroom and turn on the faucet with my uncut hand. Letting the water hit the cut, I hold my breath as the sting smacks me in the face. Looking into the mirror, I realize that my face is white as a sheet and my hands are shaking underneath the warm water.

I’m washing the blood from my hands.

Hopefully Trace will explain why Beth’s passage affected me that way without revealing too much. I’ve never had to explain my past relationships to Hannah because she never expected me to. I haven’t heard anything about her relationships before me and we’ve never talked about it before.

I’ve never been with a woman who doesn’t want to know every single thing about the ex-girlfriend…or friends in my case. But Hannah is different. She’s about the here and the now and she’s here for me no matter what, no matter who I’ve been with. I think I could tell her I was romantically linked with a She Devil and she would still love me no matter what.

God, I thought I was over this? How come this is coming to bite me in the ass two years after we ended it? I’m happy, I don’t want anything to come between the happy home Hannah and I have managed to build for us. And I definitely don’t want her to come between us. Not when I’ve tried so damn hard to put her behind me.

“Dammit.”