Chapter 112

I got to have a nice, quiet (albeit late) supper with my girlfriend – one of the few times we’d dined alone since my injury.

We ordered up light fare and then snuggled on the couch together watching mindless television and just visiting. The solitude lasted until a little after 10 o’clock when the chirping of a cell phone intruded.

It took me a second to realize it was my phone. I doubted it was my mother. It was in the small hours of the morning in Ohio. I also knew that Liz had told Rick, Susan and Sarah that we were just going to relax for the evening so I didn’t think they would call.

I fished my phone off the charger and looked at it. It was my personal phone, not the one that I carried for Liz, and I didn’t recognize the number. The 424 area code was unfamiliar to me.

“Who is it?” Liz asked as I continued to gaze at the screen.

“I don’t know,” I replied.

Liz smiled as she reached over and swiped the symbol to send the call to voicemail.

It rang again before I could get shifted to put the phone down.

“Shit,” I mumbled.

I hit the speaker button and then hit the button to answer the call. I had been holding hands with Liz and I didn’t want a phone call to cause that to end.

“Hello,” I said in what I hoped was a neutral voice.

“Travis?” a female asked. I looked at Liz to see if she recognized the voice but she just shook her head.

“Yes,” I said. “Who’s this?”

“Vicki,” the voice said. It took me another second to make the connection.

“Oh, hey, Vicki,” I said in a lighter voice. “What’s up?”

“I’m not sure,” the teenager replied. “It’s been a way weird night.”

“Oh?” I asked.

“What did you say to her today?” the kid inquired, perhaps thinking I would know the “her” in question or perhaps realizing I had her on speaker and that my girlfriend was likely very nearby.

“Just ... stuff,” I said.

“It’s like she’s an alien,” Vicki told us.

Liz was looking at me questioningly but I just gave a slight shake of my head.

“She and Mom locked themselves away when we got home,” Vicki continued. “There was a lot of yelling but I couldn’t tell what they were fighting about.”

“All moms and daughters fight,” I said.

“Not like this,” Vicki said. “When the yelling was done she came out ... and she was way calm.”

“Your mom?” I asked.

“Not Mom,” Vicki said. “Yeah, they’ve gotten into it before but it never lasts more than a minute or two. This time it was like an hour. But when she came out, you couldn’t even tell. Then she ate dinner with us ... and that never happens.”

“Your mom?” I asked again.

“No!” Vicki said. “We spent the last few hours just ... goofing off. We played some video games and ... she was really nice to me. It’s too weird and I need to know if it’s a game she’s playing.”

“I don’t think so,” I said. “Maybe. You know her far better than I ever will. I just mentioned that she had a couple of sisters that would love to look up to her if she gave them the chance.”

“She actually asked me about school and that stuff,” Vicki said. “She told me that I could ask her tutors about anything I was having trouble with. Arabella was a little shit but she even tried to get through to her. It didn’t work but she at least tried.”

“That’s a good thing,” I said – mostly because I had nothing else to offer. Liz was sort of staring at me so I offered a helpless shrug.

“We’re all three going to sit down tonight and watch the show,” Vicki told us. “She’s not going out to be seen or anything. She’s just going to hang out with us.”

“Isn’t it a little late for Arabella to be up?” I asked. I didn’t add that I thought it was too late for any teenager to be awake. “I don’t want anybody to get into trouble. Won’t your mom be upset?”

I heard the snort of derision through the connection.

“Mom went out for dinner,” Vicki said. “She won’t come home until tomorrow morning at the earliest.”

“Are you there by yourselves?” I asked.

“No, we have a nanny,” Vicki explained. “Arabella doesn’t have tutoring until tomorrow afternoon and she’ll sleep all morning anyway. You can come out to watch with us if you want. Nobody will care.”

“I’m back in San Diego, kiddo,” I said.

“Oh, yeah,” Vicki replied. “I didn’t think about that. I guess I should go. I’m supposed to be digging out some of the old board games we used to play. See ya.”

“See ya,” I echoed. Then I put the phone down and shook my head.

“Who is Vicki?” Liz asked.

“Regina’s little sister,” I answered. “She sort of ... latched onto us.”

I was still trying to explain why I got a late-night phone call from a 14-year-old when Jill came in shaking her head.

“Are you for real?” she asked incredulously.

“I texted her to see if she knew who Vicki might be,” Liz explained.

“She’s a smart-mouthed little shithead,” Jill said.

I couldn’t help but laugh. It was the pot calling the kettle black.

“I seem to collect those people,” I said, gesturing to Jill with my thumb.

“Hey!” Jill said indignantly. Liz just burst into laughter.

“He’s right,” Liz declared. “You and she should be BFFs.”

“At least you should refrain from calling your Mini-Me hurtful names,” I said, happy that the onus was off of me. Jill wouldn’t permit my revelry to last for long.

“Why would she call you?” she asked me.

Liz saved me from having to formulate an answer.

“Come on, Jill,” she said. “I just listened to a kid that’s basically alone even with her family around. It sounds like nobody pays a minute of attention to her. Put yourself in her shoes. A cute guy actually listens to you. He helps you get a little dig in at one of your tormenters. I think it’s cute.”

“You’ll think it’s cute until she starts to send him nude selfies,” Jill noted.

“She’s not going to do that,” I said, shaking my head.

“Uh-huh,” Jill answered, clearly dubious. “The older sister got famous by flashing her ass and boobs every chance she gets. The younger sister gets attention by doing the same thing. You honestly think that Vicki isn’t going to give that a shot?”

“No,” I said firmly. “She just wants a sounding board. It’s not anything bigger than that.”

“We’ll see,” Jill said. “I’ll bet you that the next time you hear from her ... there will be something that makes you uncomfortable.”

I shook my head again.

“Let’s bet,” Jill said. “If I win ... you’ve got to clean my apartment.”

“Fine,” I said.

“What are you betting?” Liz asked, lifting an eyebrow.

“I’ll ... wash his car,” Jill said after thinking for a minute.

“All the cars,” Liz said.

“OK,” Jill agreed.

“In a bikini,” Liz added.

That caused Jill to cross her arms defiantly.

“I’ll help him clean your apartment,” Liz said. “You can take pictures of it and post them on Instagram.”

“And you’ll wear a bikini,” Jill said, her eyes narrowing.

“Fine,” Liz said.

She extended her hand and Jill shook it. It was pretty evident that I was no longer involved in the wager – and I was fine with it.

“You better be right, Mister,” Liz told me.

The living room of the suite was filled by the time “At Night, Tonight” came on the TV screen.

Bobbi and Dayton had joined us and so had Ryan. Adele and Liam had arrived in the middle of the 11 o’clock news program. Liz had ordered up some late-night snacks and drinks.

I stuck with iced tea because I had already taken a pain pill. The activities of the day had taken a lot out of me. I’m sure it didn’t help anything that I had been very lax on exercising for the past two days.

We sat through the monologue and a stilted interview with Regina Hart before Denny Daniels announced my name.

I was embarrassed to see myself and I found myself looking around the room to gauge the others’ reactions. Strangely, I didn’t focus on Liz or the PR professionals. I also left Dayton and Jill out because they had already seen it. I watched Bobbi and Ryan.

Ryan frowned a couple of times and shook his head once or twice as I went through the attack again. He shifted his eyes to me at the end and caught me looking at him. He just shook his head again.

Bobbi was a different story. She sat on the edge of the couch with her chin resting on her knuckles. She didn’t take her eyes off the screen for almost 20 minutes. I wasn’t sure she even blinked more than once or twice.

The segment ended with a close-up of Denny telling the viewers that I’d be back after the break to continue talking.

“Good, Mate,” Liam said when the commercial came on.

“It came out a lot better than I had a right to hope,” Adele agreed. “What’s coming up next?”

I explained the concept to them and they exchanged glances.

“That’s new,” Adele noted. I didn’t want to go into details so I gave a vague response.

“They altered the format for tonight, I think,” I said.

Liz had kept hold of my hand during the interview and she gave me a soft smile. I couldn’t tell if she was pleased or appalled at what she’d seen. There were too many people present for me to risk asking her.

“This part is really good,” Dayton said when the show came back on. All eyes returned to the TV screen as Denny introduced Regina again.

The camera had focused on the girl’s face the first time she’d been introduced. This time it gave a full body shot.

“Is that body paint?” Liz asked me in a soft voice.

“What?” I wondered.

“Her pants,” Liz clarified. “Is that denim or body paint?”

“It’s denim,” I said. “I mean, I think it’s denim. I didn’t verify.”

Liz shook her head at me and returned her attention to the screen. She continued to watch impassively during the final segment, which, to my surprise, ran almost 20 minutes uninterrupted by commercials.

“Very nice,” Liam said as the end credits rolled on the TV. “I liked the way you talked up the kid there at the end. She was brutal earlier in the show ... unprepared.”

“Let’s just say that there were extenuating circumstances and let it go at that,” I said.

“She was better at the end,” Adele said. “She held her own in the conversation. I think you gave a pretty accurate impression of who you really are – or at least who I’ve heard you really are. We’ll get better as we get to know you a little more.”

“I think you were a little too humble,” Ryan said. “It was genuine. I know that. But I’m not sure that anybody else is going to get it. They might think it was an act.”

I nodded at his appraisal.

“It’s always a risk,” Adele said. “I liked how you wrapped everything together there at the end. You probably offended the New York tabloids but I don’t see a crime in that. Using Liz and your parents as examples of people to emulate was a good move.”

“They’re who I think of when I think about good people,” I said.

The assessment of my network television debut continued for only a few more minutes.

“Let’s table this until later,” Liz said. She had been silent as everybody else offered their critiques. “I’m tired and I know Travis has to be wearing down. He needs his rest.”

It took only a couple of minutes for everybody to head for the exit. Most of us were flying out in a few hours and she was right. I was tired. But I was also wired.

I waited until we were situated in bed before I brought up what was worrying me.

“What did you think of it?” I asked.

“What did you think?” Liz returned. “Was it what you expected?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “It was ... awkward ... at times. It was different than I’m used to. When I’m conducting a media briefing I control the flow of information. I decide who gets to ask questions and I’ll steer away from people trying to push their own agenda. Even if the questions are off topic I have ways of bringing it back to the news I want to impart. It’s the same way when I’m doing stuff for you. I can usually find one or two people that are willing to ask soft questions just to get them answered.

“This was different. It wasn’t adversarial by any means. I actually liked Denny. But it still struck me as ... foreign. I think that sort of showed through.”

“You were talking about yourself instead of about an institution or ... me,” Liz pointed out.

“I’ve talked about myself before,” I replied.

“God knows that’s true,” Liz said, smiling at me and tickling my side. “But when you were playing baseball, you dealt with ... friends or at least people you knew pretty well. You knew the topics were going to be about things you were already familiar with. This wasn’t like that. The last part was extemporaneous. Those weren’t remarks that you’d prepared in advance.”