Page 13 of Vespertine
He’d only gone because he’d loved to see Jazz’s face gothrough the various expressions of anxiety and peace and finally to somethingresembling a state of ecstasy as the hymns began. He’d learned how much Jazzloved music from those trips to the church and he’d started playing him specialsongs written just for him shortly after that. He later realized he’d beentrying to woo him. But he’d been so young and dumb in those early days that hehadn’t even known.
“I don’t believe in God.” Nicky wasn’t sure if that was truebut it was closer to true than not.
Miriam shrugged. “All that matters is living a good life. Ifyou live a good life, Nicky, you’ll be a happy man.” She met his eyes and saidwith more genuine forgiveness than he’d heard in Jazz’s voice in theconfessional, “It’s not too late for that, sweet one.”
Sweet one, sweet baby, sweetie.He’dbeen horrified by those nicknames most of his adolescence and enraged by themwhen he’d started using drugs. He wasn’t sweet. He wasn’t a baby. He was anangry alien that’d been dumped into a wealthy suburban dreamscape and he’dwanted to burn it all down around him and then spit in the ashes. Hisdepression and attachment disorder had left him always feeling one step out ofsync with the rest of the world, and that was one thing even Jasper couldn’tfix.
“I got a phone call from a reporter this morning,” Miriamsaid, obviously deciding his silence meant he didn’t want to talk about livinga good life. “He asked me if I’d heard from you and I hung up on him.” Shepushed a curl out of her eyes, the gray seeming less obvious in the rosy lightof the kitchen. “We get calls like that pretty often. But this guy made itsound like you’d gone missing. I was worried until I heard that you were onyour way here.”
“I dodged the paps,” Nicky murmured, flipping through theBible with his right hand and taking another bite of the sandwich with hisleft. “I just want to be left alone.”
Miriam leaned her hip against the counter. “Yes. That’s whatyou need now. Privacy and time with people who love you.” She paused and thenasked a little tentatively, “How long do you plan to stay with us?” She held upa hand. “You’re welcome for as long as you want or need to be here. Having youhome is a joy for me, you know that. I just want to know what to expect.”
“I’m not sure. I’d like to stay a few months, but I doubtmanagement will allow that.”
“Isn’t it more important that you get well?”
Nicky shrugged. “You’d think so, but no. Not to them.”
Miriam’s eyes darkened. “And the paparazzi? You don’t thinkthey’ll come looking for you here?”
“No. Well, they might. It’s doubtful, though. Hopefully somebigger name celeb is out there fucking his life up and I’m already old news.”He took another big bite, swallowed, and said, “Next time someone calls, tellthem you heard I was going to rehab in Paris, and I left last week by privatejet.”
“All right.” Miriam opened the junk cabinet and searchedaround in the chips and candy bags his father kept in there. “Your dad boughtthose nasty pork rinds you both like.”
“I love how he drinks kosher wine and eats pork rinds.”
Miriam smiled, fully this time, and the wrinkles around hereyes hurt his heart. “Me too. Here.” She tossed the bag his way. “Eat those andhelp him out.”
Nicky wasn’t a big fan of pork rinds anymore. He’d eaten somany during his first years out of the Blumfeld household that he’d burned outon them. But he opened them anyway and ate several, enjoying their saltinessfor what it was worth, especially next to the delicious, fresh sandwich.
“Well, then, what are your plans for your time here?”
A squirmy desire not to be pinned down wriggled through him.“What do you mean?”
Miriam leaned against the counter on her elbows, looking upat him meaningfully. “I just mean if you’re going to get and stay sober, don’tyou think you should keep busy?”
She had a good point. “I noticed the steps down to the dockare looking pretty rickety. Maybe I could fix them up a little.”
Miriam nodded. “That would be wonderful. Your father can’tdo things like that anymore. We’d planned to ask Jenny Renfroe’s son Joey—he’sa contractor—over to do it this summer, but if you feel up to it…?”
“Yeah. Of course. Once I get some rest, I’ll get started onit. I’d like to feel useful.”
“Are you going to see Jazz while you’re in town?” His mother’svoice sounded purposely offhand, but there was something else there. Like shewas feeling him out. Had she always been this way? Or was this new? “He’s doingsome great things for the community.”
“Of course he is.” He hadn’t intended it to sound so bitter.
Miriam shot him an appraising glance.
Nicky shrugged. “I saw him already.”
The plate his mother grabbed from the cabinet for her ownsandwich clattered on the counter. “You did?”
“I stopped by his church. He’s as arrogant as ever.”
“Oh, Nicky. You can’t mean that. You two were like brothers.Closer even.”
It was true. Once Jazz had been in him so deep he’d lethimself believe they’d never be fully pulled apart.
