Chapter Four
Wondering about her husband’s whereabouts and more than a little peeved he hadn’t at least replied to her when she called, Shaylon went on a search for him half expecting to find him passed out drunk as she had the night before. She knew he was home, his car was in the garage this time and the beer on the kitchen counter was most likely his, but the way it was around their house it could’ve been her seven year olds for all she knew; he loved to emulate his father and big brother. Oh well, whoever’s it was it was hers now, ugh too warm.
She walked to the study where she’d left Bane the night before, sleeping like a baby in one of his chairs in front of the television, some movie with exploding aliens battling on some wasteland of a planet blaring away. It made little difference to her, he was a good husband mostly, he brought in good money, was great in the sack, was a pretty good father, and they still had a lot in common so his drunken stupors was something she could deal with; it actually gave her freedom to do what she wanted more often than not. He had his life and she had hers and it worked. They got along together most of the time and they loved each other so to her everything was fine and if something should happen or if she got bored and it stopped working one word would fix everything... divorce. Anything else out there was either worse or a fairy tale made up on television and in those stupid, although addictive, romance novels.
What she found when she poked her head into the study wasn’t what she had expected at all, there was Bane sitting in one of his chairs in a quiet study reading a book and a large one by the looks of it. A bag dropped haphazardly on the floor told her where it had come from, just another popular book store and not an adult one, but as she walked in ready to ask what he was reading Bane shot up out of his seat, slamming the book shut and holding it awkwardly down behind his leg hiding it from view like one of her kids always did. She was met with a red face and a string of angry swear words.
“Shaylon! What are you doing sneaking in here? What are trying to prove? You think I’m up to something? You could have at least knocked. It’s not like I’m in here in our own home with some tramp groupie so why do feel the need to come pussy footing around my study where I work to bring in all that money you like so much?” He knew he was over compensating, that he was going way too far and saying some really stupid stuff that she would make him pay for later, but his mouth was off and running and he had a hard time shutting it.
Shaylon stood there glaring at him with that look she had perfected over the years that said, ‘Alright if that’s how you want to play this go ahead we’ll see how sorry I can make you later.’ and he knew it. “So are you done because dinner’s ready Bane?”
He paused as guilt, embarrassment, and myriad of other feeling made his stomach roll. “Sure, yeah, sorry Shaylon. I guess this new tour has me on edge. I haven’t been feeling well the past couple of days. I didn’t mean to blow up at you. I’ll be in in a couple of minutes.”
Shaylon’s stare eased. She could understand his stress. Bane loved his music and he felt alive and powerful up there on that stage, but each time he went out it took more and more out of him and there was always that underlying fear that unspoken dread that this time he would fall flat on his face and go the way of the dinosaur; having to step aside as those screaming fans moved on to the younger, hotter, edgier performers. “You’re forgiven... this time. I’ll set you a plate out.”
“Okay.”
She took one more quick glance at the book he was still hiding behind him; a look that Bane hadn’t missed, and she left him to whatever he was up to. The door clicked shut and Bane breathed a deep sigh, whether it was relief or whether he’d been holding his breath or both he wasn’t quite sure, but one thing he did know. This thing was getting out of hand. This thing was turning his life upside down and though he couldn’t deny the draw it had on him he was ready to be done with it and he dropped it in the trash without so much as even looking at it, scared that if he took even the slightest glance it would hold him in that grip and he’d never be free of it. He turned off the light and walked out the door closing it shut behind him without another look and joined his family for dinner. Enough was enough.
His plate was on the counter waiting for him just as Shaylon said it would be and he filled it with whatever dish she had made that evening. His wife was a good cook and since she had been on this healthy living kick lately everyone in the house was eating better, although that didn’t stop them from ordering pizza or stopping by the drive through every chance they got. She was always trying some new recipe she’d found online or from some show she’d seen. Some were horrible, but most turned out pretty good so he didn’t mind and at times they’d even cook together; one of those closeness exercises for married couples they’d tried over the years that was actually enjoyable. He grabbed a soda and a napkin and made his way into the family room where dinner usually took place. They only ate at the table for special occasions; most of the time dinner consisted of everyone that was home at the time grabbing their food and heading to some corner of the house and today was no different. Bane, Shaylon, and their youngest son Mitchell sat in the living room while another reality show where everyone is trying to stab everyone else in the back for money, fame and ratings rattled on, but he couldn’t pay attention and could only pick at his food.
Everyone in the room could feel the tension. Usually Bane had a comment or a few unsavory words and names for everyone on the show. At times it was almost a contest as to who would come out on top in each episode. Everyone had their favorite player and even the older kids would participate in who would make it to the end, but tonight Bane was ominously quiet and any banter that went on was between Shaylon and Mitchell or any of the other kids if they happened to make their way into that part of the house. All of which would glance at him and wonder to themselves or each other, “What’s up with Dad?” which was quickly returned with a shrug and a look of, “Who knows.”
The rest of the night went pretty much the same as Bane sat in the same spot nursing a beer he had defiantly grabbed from the fridge staring blankly at the television, completely zoned out in a world that had nothing to do with whatever drama was playing out on the screen. The rest of the family gave him his space sensing that now was not the time to bother Dad. Some even hoping that he’d retreat back to his study so that they could talk without worrying that they’d hit the wrong button and get yelled at, but Bane was too scared to go back to that room and what awaited him there in the trash bin. That book was causing havoc in his happy life and he wanted nothing else to do with it just like all those years ago. It brought up too many memories and he wasn’t about to let that pain and regret take hold of him again. He had put the past behind him, burying it as deep as it would go and he was determined that it was going to stay there until, like compost, it rotted away to nothing returning to where it came from.
It was his life and his decision and he was happy, wasn’t he? Of course he was! His life was great, amazing, near perfect! He had money and lots of it, enough to buy anything his heart desired. He had fame; people all over the world knew who he was, cheered for him, wanted to be him and wanted to be with him. He had fine houses, garages full of luxury, vintage and rare vehicles. A sexy wife and a house full of kids one of which was following in his footsteps and whom he was working with to launch his own career. He partied with the hottest of Hollywood and vacationed all over the world for as long as he wanted. He ate what he wanted, drank what he wanted, went where he wanted, watched what he wanted and did what he wanted. His life was perfect. He was happy... even if he was angry and brooding. He wasn’t like that all the time, and even if he was that didn’t mean anything; no one was happy twenty four seven. So what if he drank a little too much, it could be worse, he’d given up the drugs, most of them anyway; nothing wrong with a little fun time. He liked the taste of the booze and it helped him relax, he could stop that too if he really wanted to, he just didn’t want to. Everything was fine, just fine, perfec
t, absolutely perfect, and so he sat still nursing that same beer refusing to acknowledge the growing emptiness in his heart and pushing all thoughts of the true state of his life and family to the furthest depths of his inner closet. Finally his eyes closed, his breathing deepened and his mind was free of conscience restraint.