The Achilles Heel (21 page)

KESSLER

W
hile in the Islands, sleep was supposed to be a main priority, but waking up every
two or three hours at night forced me to take naps in the afternoon, which contributed
to the lack of sleep the next night. I was caught in an irregular sleep cycle that
seemed unbreakable. As my retirement date closed in on me, so did my claustrophobia.
For the last ten years I’ve been focused on my next project, cursing myself for never
living in the moment. Now, when there’s no future project to consume me, I can’t seem
to enjoy the thought of retirement. Two albums worth of songs are sitting in a notebook,
but with no official plans to record any of them. I was a little lost.

I found myself thinking more and more about Annie and the divine intervention of our
meeting two thousand miles away from home. The thought of her sleeping alone next
door made me itch. I wanted to be next to her, skin to skin under her thin cotton
sheets, but it was comforting to picture her face in my mind. Her peach colored skin
surrounding those large autumn eyes made my stomach warm and my heart settle. As I
finally started fading into sleep with the sun on the horizon, my house phone rang.

This can’t be good. Only a handful of people know this number and a phone call at
six in the morning never starts out with good news.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Hey, buddy, sorry to wake you, but you better get your ass back to Nashville; they’re
calling a meeting and the cats out of the bag,” Wade informed me.

I didn’t need clarification because that could only mean one thing; River Rock Records
had gotten wind of my intent to retire. First, they were going to schmooze me into
staying, and if that didn’t work, they would drop a novel of legal papers in front
of me to scare me out of leaving.

I sat up in bed, so my brain would start thinking business. “It’s all right, I knew
this was coming. I haven’t e-mailed in any song ideas or corresponded to any artists
they want me to work with on an upcoming album. I thought I’d have more time but should
have known; they work quickly. How many people are involved so far?” I asked

“Just the suits I think, but they asked me to sit in on behalf of the company to try
and talk you out of it,” he said. “I told ‘em to go scratch cause I ain’t their errand
boy. You’ve made them twice the money that they’ve made you, and they signed you after
your name was already out on the scene, so it’s been a two-way street for the both
of ya. I think I’m uninvited to the meeting at this point, but I’m not sure ‘cause
I ain’t takin’ their calls.”

“Settle down, Wade. This isn’t your fight. I’ll have my pilot get the jet ready and
try to get a flight out today. If I get back at a decent hour, I’ll come by.”

“Sounds good. You know Mama D’s just
dying
to cook for you, so I’m sure the whole kitchen will be filled with all things that
Kessler Carlisle loves; it sickens me. Hey, how’s your neighbor?” he asked sarcastically.

“Not the best time, buddy,” I said as I hung up the phone.

I didn’t move. I was caught off guard and needed some time to put the pieces together.
The business aspect of the shit storm ahead didn’t faze me; I would have never come
out here without knowing exactly what to do when this ball started rolling, but I
never expected to meet Annie. I never planned for her to be a part of my puzzle, and
even though I’d only recently met her, I knew that she was it; the real reason I was
here.

My first call was to Lloyd, my concierge, and I asked him to make arrangements for
a flight out today and to take care of the house since I didn’t know if I would be
back anytime soon. The second call was to my agent, and I loaded him full of all the
bullshit I knew he wanted to hear. I’m a quick study and learned early on in this
business to deny, deny, deny, and then come clean. He’s done a great job for me over
the years, but I guarantee there’s a twenty something up and coming artist who’s punching
his fist in the air right now because this morning, he got the phone call he’s been
dreaming about his whole life.

My phone rang again. “Hello?”

“Yes, Mr. Carlisle. The plane will be ready for boarding at eleven this morning, and
the car service will be at your disposal. I will see to the details of your boat and
home myself. Everything will be handled with the utmost care,” Lloyd assured me.

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” I responded and hung up.

Now, what to do about Annie.
I had about four hours until I boarded a plane. I had no idea if I was going to see
her again and that possibility made me sick. I needed to talk to her, alone. I grabbed
a quick shower to wake myself up and then packed a small carry-on bag. Walking through
the house turning off lights, I thought about what I could say to her that didn’t
make me look like a complete asshole.

Should I tell her the truth? At this point, I’ve only really lied about my job and
my last name, but I guess that’s kind of a big deal, since it’s basically who I am.
She might not even think twice about me leaving; maybe she doesn’t even care. Goddamn
it, why did I lie? I’m such a pussy; although, I blame some of that on my plastic
ex-wife. She fucking ruined me.

Stop!
I screamed a reminder to myself.

She has nothing to do with this and that was a long time ago. This is a situation
I created, and I’ll just cross my fingers, promise to never lie to her again and hope
for the best.

Jesus, that was exhausting.

I set my bag on the front porch and made the long walk of shame to knock on Annie’s
door. This wasn’t the most appropriate time to have this conversation, but it was
the only time I had, and I didn’t want to remember her like a figure in a snow globe‌—‌shaking
her up, watching her twirl in confetti when I needed a fix; the only real part of
the image being regret.

Cowboy up,
as my mama would say.

The chattering of women’s voices was in full force as I approached the door.
Super, I’m gonna do this in front of everyone
. I knew I deserved it.

There was silence after I knocked. A leisurely morning mess of a woman answered with
a blond bird’s nest of hair sitting atop her head. She wore a light pink one-piece
romper I’m assuming she slept in, and had on no make-up; the rims around her eyelashes
were the same shade of pink as her pajamas. The crow’s feet barely fanning the outside
corners of her eyes showed her age and proof of life. She was the woman of my dreams;
real, natural and unedited.

It’s bullshit how women say they try to mold themselves into what a man wants; Botox,
fake tits and lip injections become necessities to please a man, blaming their physical
woes on the men who expect too much. Bullshit. The majority of men in America would
be ecstatic to find a woman who occasionally cooks their favorite food or orders take-out
without first asking a thousand questions, lets them watch football on Sunday, doesn’t
nag if the toilet lid is left up, and every once in awhile says thank you for a hard
day’s work. Real women with real skin that hasn’t been poked and paralyzed is always
sexier, so stop trying to pin that shit on us.

Annie put her hands in front of her face like she was shielding her eyes from the
sun and gasped. “Kessler! What are you doing here this early?” She shut the door half
way, completely blocking herself from my sight.

“Would it be okay if we talked for a few minutes?” I asked, as I clutched her hand
from around the door and gently pulled her out enough so I could see her face.

“Why don’t you come in and let me get dressed first?” she pleaded, still trying to
hide behind the door.

“I can’t stay very long, and I was hoping to talk to you in private. Could you come
outside, please?” I begged again, starting to get nervous.

“All right, but at least let me grab my robe,” she said, as she pulled it off the
back of the barstool.

I couldn’t help but notice her lightly tanned legs standing shoulder width apart as
she wrapped herself in a white silk robe dotted with blooming colorful flowers.

“I’ve gotta go back to Nashville today. Remember how I told you I was going to quit
my job soon?” I didn’t wait for a reply. “Well, it’s happening a lot faster than I
anticipated, and I have to go back and deal with it. I don’t know how long this is
going to take, so I can’t tell you when I’ll be back. This is a shitty way to leave
things with us, and absolutely not what I had planned, but it’s my reality right now.”

My words were becoming faster as I was forcing my way through the speech I’d whipped
up on the walk over.

“I can’t stop thinking about you, Annie. I like myself when you’re around me. I like
the way my skin heats up and my face hurts from smiling. You look so good to me, and
I want to know you, know as much as I can about you. I’m clueless about your feeling
towards me, but I couldn’t leave without telling you mine,” I said with a strangled
voice at the end of my breath.

I completely skipped over the part where I was a liar. I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t
take the disappointment on her face after coming clean, and didn’t even want to think
about it, so I put it out of my mind.

She stood there smiling at me, folding in the corner of her bottom lip to make a U
shape and then tugging gently at it.

I wanted her so badly. This woman with ratty hair and no make-up, standing on the
front porch in her robe, smiling as I spilled my guts to her; she’s the one I want,
I choose her. I slid my arm around her waist, pulled her close to me and inhaled her
signature sent of washed cotton. I kissed her lips softly; her embrace felt like home
to me.

She pulled away and put her hands on my shoulders. “I totally understand that you
need to go handle your business, and I hope it works out exactly how you want it to.
This past week has been strange and exciting and it’s made me feel like a teenager
again, which was wonderful! I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been thinking about you
a lot or that I won’t miss you after you leave, but neither one of us expected this
romance to happen, so you don’t owe me anything. There’s nothing to feel bad about
here, no strings attached,” she said, and then ran her fingers through my hair. “You’ve
made me feel alive again, Kessler, and I’m forever grateful to you for showing me
that love is possible.”

She said my name again! What if I never hear her say my name again? I made her feel
alive! Don’t go, you dumbass! Who cares about getting sued? Don’t leave her and ruin
your life!

I spun her around and pushed her up against the wall; our tongues twisted in their
own embrace, slipping in and out from between our lips. With her breath hard on my
chin, I couldn’t stop myself from tucking her robe back and running my fingers along
her perfectly shaped ass.

“Kessler,” she whispered, stating my name, not asking me a question, but still managing
to melt my shoes into the concrete.

I loved being with her, and I didn’t want it to end. I wanted to ask her to come with
me, leave the past behind her and start a new life with me, because I couldn’t wait,
and I didn’t want to waste another day of my life without her.

“Oh, lord, you don’t know what you do to me,” I crooned into her neck, covering it
with my lips.

The reality of us making out in her front yard was suddenly a little embarrassing
when I noticed her friends peeking out from the blinds in the kitchen window. We both
heard them giggling like school girls who had just witnessed their first kiss. It
ruined the moment, so I faked a laugh, and got to see her smile again.

“Can I call you?” I asked her.

“Kess, we live in different states. How would that ever work?” Her voice was soft.

“I don’t know. I haven’t gotten that far yet. I just don’t want to let you slip away,”
I confessed.

“This house is rented until mid-December, so you know where I’ll be if you start to
miss me too much,” she teased, lightly slapping my arm. “Let’s not say good-bye, just
see you around,” she added, as she snuggled into my chest.

“All right, Annie Whitman. I’ll see you around.” I sighed begrudgingly as I took her
hand in mine, and she kissed me one last time.

As I turned to go back to my house, my feet were almost as heavy as my heart. My brain
was firing signals to my legs to get moving, but a shuffled step was the best they
could do.

When Annie opened the door to go back inside, I heard, “Ooohhh!” from the girls then
an eruption of laughter.

I’ve never had a hard time leaving a woman. God, my divorce was easier than saying
good-bye to Annie. Clearly I was bummed, and planned on getting drunk as soon as I
got in the air.

ANNIE

A
s soon as the door closed behind me, I burst into tears. I’m not sure all the girls
thought Kessler was the man I currently needed in my life; however, my friends rushed
me and covered me with their love. Since I had left them in the dark about my real
feelings for him, they also asked tons of questions.

“What’s wrong? Why are you crying? You guys were just kissing; did something happen
with Kess? What can we do?” Were the questions I heard, but everyone talked at once,
and I wasn’t sure which person asked what, so the tears just kept coming.

My façade of strength ceased, the acting became too daunting. It was time to fill
them in on the confusion of the last six months. I collected myself and began to tell
them my story.

“I haven’t been completely honest about what’s been going on with me and why we are
all here in St. Croix,” I said to my four best friends, who all had pitiful looks
on their faces. “It started a few days after Jack died…”

I spent an hour going over the high points: the possibility of Jack committing suicide,
Jamie’s outburst at the changing of the Will, the box and its contents I found in
my basement, the picture of the flag under the pier and Andrea Bozeman’s passport
I had in the wall safe.