Chapter 12: Family Ties

Schweitzer Mountain, Idaho

December 2, 1996

Jake and Laura, both dressed head to toe in skiing gear, came tromping into the resort’s lodge just after four o’clock in the afternoon after spending their first full day out on the slopes without the assistance of their instructor. They were both tired and a little bit sore from the day’s adventure as well as from the previous three days of falling multiple times while learning the basics of allowing gravity to pull them down steep snow-covered slopes with a couple of slick boards strapped to their feet. In addition to the normal muscle soreness that came with overexertion, Jake had a moderate twinge in his left shoulder and a swollen right knee while Laura had a rather spectacular bruise on her right hip, pain in her tailbone whenever she sat down, and a minor sprain to her right wrist. Still, they were having a wonderful time on their first true vacation in more than a year and they were happy as they took off their jackets and found seats in front of the large picture window that looked out over the town of Sandpoint and Lake Pend Oreille far below.

Since it was a Monday afternoon early in the season the lodge was not terribly busy. There were only a dozen or so customers currently patronizing the establishment. None of them were paying attention to the famous couple in their midst—a minor miracle in and of itself. A fire was burning in the large fireplace, sending out radiating warmth and the nostalgic smell of woodsmoke. They sat close enough to feel the heat on their skin and faces, allowing it to drive away the late autumn chill in their bones. A waitress immediately approached and asked them if they would like to order drinks and/or appetizers.

“Are you done skiing for the day, hon?” Jake asked his wife.

“I am,” she confirmed. “I don’t think I’m quite up to trying night runs just yet.”

“Agreed,” Jake said with a nod. Since they would not be skiing anymore, it was time to start building up a little therapeutic alcohol level to help with the aches and pains. He turned back to the waitress. “I’ll have one of those hot buttered rums. A double if you please.”

“Of course,” she said. “Would you like that made with glacier water or the pressed Washington apple cider?”

“The cider,” Jake said. “Definitely the cider.”

“Very good, Mr. Kingsley,” she said. “And for you, Mrs. Kingsley?”

“I’ll have the same,” she said.

“I will have those right out for you,” she promised. She then headed over to the bar.

Laura leaned back in her chair and looked out the window. “It really is pretty today,” she remarked. “I see now why Steve went on and on about the view from this place.” Steve was Stephen Williams, a multimillionaire real estate developer and one of Greg’s primary investors in the Oregon golf links project. Jake had played golf at the oceanfront resort with him and Greg about a month before—right after Jake had finally been able to shed the wrist splint on his broken hand—while Jake had been in Coos Bay to help finalize the mixing and mastering of Brainwash’s latest CD. Steve was a likable enough guy (for a second-generation rich prick, anyway) and Jake had mentioned to him out on the links that he and Laura were thinking about taking up skiing as a new hobby. As chance would have it, Steve’s investment group was one of the primary owners of Schweitzer Ski Resort. He had offered to set Jake and Laura up with a complete vacation package including lessons, five-star lodging at the resort’s hotel in the ski village, any and all equipment needed, and all meals and drinks comped if Jake would just allow him to publicize the visit for advertising purposes. Jake had agreed and now, here they were, enjoying the hospitality during their break between finishing Brainwash II and starting the recording of Ben, Ted, Phil, and Lenny’s debut CD in early January.

“It is impressive,” Jake agreed. “Especially from the top of the run.”

Though they had been here for four days now, this was the first day the sky had not been overcast and spitting snow flurries at them. It was now a brilliant blue, the sun shining brightly (though not making it very warm up here at 4700 feet of elevation, and certainly not up at the top of the lifts, which was 6400 feet) and letting them see the entire landscape below. The town of Sandpoint was spread out from the base of the mountain to the shore of the lake. The lake itself was a cobalt blue, darker and richer in hue than the sky, except along the edges, where ice had formed and would not melt until spring. A long roadway bridge paralleled by a railway bridge could be seen crossing one of the arms of the lake and Jake could even see the airport where he had landed after the ninety-minute flight from Cypress airport, where the couple had stayed with Jake’s parents for a few days prior to embarking on the ski trip. The Avanti was now parked in a rented hangar at that airport.

They admired the view until the waitress brought their drinks over. They then turned to face each other over the table, using the beverages to warm their cold hands.

“It’s been fun spending all this time with you,” Laura told him.

He smiled. “Yes, it has been,” he agreed. Since Laura had flown back from Poland for the TSF back in late September, they had been together at some point every day and had slept in the same bed every single night. Some of those nights had been spent in Las Vegas, some in Los Angeles, a few in their home in Oceano, a few in Cypress, most in the house KVA owned in Coos Bay, and now, here halfway up Schweitzer Mountain in northern Idaho just 45 miles south of the Canadian border. The constant togetherness had allowed them to reconnect with each other and realize how much they actually liked being together.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about Z’s offer,” she said.

“Yeah?” he asked. Bobby Z and Dexter Price, his primary saxophonist, had just completed a new release that was due to hit the shelves in late January. And, of course, a nationwide tour, starting in Florida and working its way through the south for the first leg, would follow right behind the release. Dexter and Z enjoyed a rich and productive professional relationship but a volatile and occasionally toxic personal relationship. In keeping with their usual pattern, the two of them had broken up shortly after the new CD had been mastered and had mutually agreed that touring together was not an option—again. And, as had been the case with the last CD, Laura had been invited to take up touring duties as the sax player. If she accepted the offer—she still had not made up her mind about it—she would need to report to the rehearsal warehouse on December 10.

“I don’t want to do it,” she said now.

“No?” Jake asked. “How come?”

“Several reasons,” she said. “A big one is that Squiggle will be the trumpet player again and I think it would be ... you know ... awkward, not to mention that I don’t want you worrying constantly about my being out there with him.”

“I’m not worried about that at all,” Jake said casually, though this was a bit of a white lie. Though he trusted his wife, she had admitted to having feelings for Squiggle in the past and to the two of them sharing a certain ‘chemistry’ between them. He did not believe that she would actually act upon that chemistry—especially now that she had found a viable relief valve for her sexual frustration—but the thought of them touring together for months was still more than a little disconcerting; especially in light of Laura’s revelation that she knew Squiggle would act upon his feelings for her without compunction if given the chance.

“That’s just one reason,” Laura said. “The biggest one is that I just don’t want to go back out on tour. I don’t want to have to report to rehearsal every day, I don’t want to have to learn new material right now, and, mostly, I do not want to go back out on the road anytime soon. I loved having the experience of being a traveling musician. I love stepping up on stage and playing for people and having them cheer me. But I’m not ready to go back to staying in hotel rooms night after night, to waking up in a different city every morning, and to being away from you. I just got back a few months ago. I’m not ready to go back out. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be ready to go back out.”

Jake actually felt a strong measure of relief at her decision. In truth, he did not want to go for months without seeing her, touching her, enjoying her company, and regularly fucking her. They had proven to themselves and each other that their marriage was strong and could accommodate such absences, but that did not mean they enjoyed it.

“I understand,” he told her. “And I support you completely.”

“Are you sure?” she asked timidly. “I mean, if you think I should go out again, I will, but...”

He was shaking his head. “I do not think you should go out again,” he assured her. “Especially not with Z and his low-budget tour funding. You’ve been traveling with an A-lister. You don’t really want to go back to traveling in a bus from venue to venue and sleeping in cheap motels after flying private air and staying in luxury suites, right?”

“No,” she said immediately. “I’ve definitely been spoiled by touring with C.”

“Then it sounds like the decision is made,” he said. “The only question is whether or not it is a permanent decision.”

“A permanent decision?”

He nodded. “Are you ever going to want to tour again?” he asked. “Maybe for Celia’s next CD?”

“I don’t know,” she said after a moment’s thought. “It’s kind of a moot point right now, isn’t it? Neither you nor Celia is working on anything new right now.”

“That is true,” he agreed. “I’ll be far too busy getting Phil and the boys recorded and promoted to work up any new material of my own. And Celia seems like she just wants to take a little break and live a little before she starts a new project.”

“So, there is nothing really for me to decide on right now except the Bobby Z offer, right?”

“That’s right,” Jake said. “And it seems like you’ve already made you decision on Z.”

“I have,” she said. “I want to be with my husband now. I’ll help you and Celia out when you decide to start your next CDs, but I’ll hold off an any commitment beyond that.”

“Fair enough,” Jake said happily.

They drank two hot buttered rums apiece and then decided to go up to their third-floor suite, fuck, and then take a little nap before dinner. But when they got up to the room the message light blinking on the phone derailed their plans.

“I gotta pee first,” Laura told him.

“By all means,” Jake said, kicking off his ski boots. “I’ll just see what this message is about and meet you in bed.”

“Don’t make me wait too long,” she said with a smile. She stepped into the suite’s bedroom and began to undress.

Jake watched her until her shirt and bra came off and then reluctantly turned his back to her and sat down at the writing desk. He picked up the phone and pushed the message button, which automatically connected him to the hotel phone operator.

“How can I help you?” the nasally female voice enquired politely.

“This is Glenn Sutter,” Jake told her, giving his hotel name. “I understand you have messages for me.”

“Yes, we do, Mr. Sutter,” she said. Of course, she knew that Glenn Sutter was really Jake Kingsley—especially since Steve the real estate developer had made it well-known in media and publicity circles that Jake and Laura were current guests at the resort—but this was how the game was played. “I have a request from Pauline Kingsley in Los Angeles for you to call her as soon as possible on her private, home number.”

“Okay,” Jake said, wondering what this was about. “Thank you for the information.”

“Would you like me to connect you?” she asked.

“Uh ... sure,” Jake said. “That would be cool.” He recited the area code and number for her.

The phone beeped and booped in his ear for a moment and then began to ring. It was picked up on the second ring and his sister’s voice spoke. “Pauline Kingsley.”

“Hey, Paulie,” Jake said. “It’s me. Just got your message. What’s up?”

“Hey, little bro,” she said. “How goes the skiing?”

“It’s a little painful at times,” he admitted. “A lot of fun though.”

“Maybe I’ll give it a try one of these days,” she said. “Obie used to be into it back in the days before me, but he lost interest after breaking his leg and his arm in Aspen.”

“I can see how that would dissuade one,” Jake said. “Anyway, what’s up? Do we have new shit hitting the fan, or do you have some good news for me?”

“I’m not exactly sure what kind of news this is,” she said. “Is Teach there?”

“Yeah, she’s in the other room changing. We just got back from the slopes.” The fact that what she was changing into was her birthday suit, he did not mention.

“I fielded a call earlier today at the studio,” she said. “It was from a gentleman by the name of Joseph Best ... the second.”

“Joseph Best the second?” Jake said, pondering that. Best was Laura’s maiden name. Joseph Best, he had been told a few times during their relationship with each other, was the name of her father, the staunch, conservative, rigidly orthodox Mormon who had disowned her back when she had taken up residence with Phil and stopped contributing ten percent of her meager income to the tithe. Joseph Best II would have to be one of her two brothers, likely the oldest, the one who she had once told him had not moved to Los Angeles from Idaho with the rest of the family and was not in a state of grace with the rest of the Bests for reasons that were never explained to him.

“He says he’s Teach’s oldest brother,” Pauline confirmed for him.

“What does he want?” Jake asked carefully.

“To speak to her,” she said. “He gave me no details as to what it was about, only that it was important.”

“I see,” Jake said slowly, his mind automatically going to the worst-case scenario. There must be a death or an impending death in her family. Why else would the man suddenly make contact after all these years of silence? He sighed as he thought about this, wondering how it was going to change their plans; specifically, their immediate-term plan of getting laid and their intermediate-term plan of continuing their much-needed vacation. True, Laura had not spoken to anyone in her family in years—they most certainly did not approve of her choice of husband and the lifestyle she lived with him—but family was family and they inherently had plan-derailing power. “Did he give a number he could be reached at?”

“He did,” Pauline said. “Do you have something to write with?”

“I do,” Jake said, picking up a pen from the writing desk and pulling the little complimentary tablet over. “Fire away.”

She read off a number that started with area code 208. He wrote it down and then read it back to her to confirm he had written it down correctly.

“All right,” he told his sister. “I’ll give her the message.”

“Let me know if there’s anything I need to do or if there is any help I can offer,” Pauline said. She had obviously gone to worst-case scenario as well.

“Will do,” he told her. “Talk to you later.”

He hung up the phone and then turned back toward the bedroom. A moment later, Laura emerged from the bathroom. She was now dressed in the aforementioned birthday suit and looked like she was quite ready to put Part A into Slot B. Jake felt the familiar tingle of arousal he always got when he looked at her in such a state. Though the bruise on her hip was purple and brown and dark blue and it was roughly the size and shape of the surface of a clothes iron, though she had a scattering of other bruises on her arms and legs, though her hair was in complete disarray from being worn under a ski helmet all day, she was still able to get his motor running. He considered whether or not it would be a marital faux pas to tell her about the call from her brother after they fucked, but she inadvertently beat him to the punch.

“What was the message about?” she asked.

“Uh ... well ... it was from your ... uh ... your brother,” he said.

Her eyes widened a bit. “My brother?” she asked. “Which one?”

“Joseph Best the second,” Jake said.

“Joey called me?” she asked, alarm starting to appear now. It seemed she was going worst-case scenario as well. “Did he say what he wanted?”

“I didn’t talk to him,” Jake said. “The message was from Paulie to let us know he wanted to talk to you. He left his number.”

“She has no idea what this is about?”

“No,” he said. “Just that he wants you to call him. The number has the Idaho area code.”

“He still lives in Pocatello where we grew up,” she said. “The last I heard from my mom he was still working for the city driving a garbage truck.”

“A garbage truck?” Jake asked.

“Somebody has to drive the garbage trucks,” she said. “He got the job way back in the late seventies, back when ... uh ... well...”

“Back when what?” Jake asked.

She sighed. “Back when he got his girlfriend pregnant and had to cancel his mission for the church and find a job to support them,” she said slowly, a clear expression of familial shame on her face.

“Wow,” Jake said. “That shit is kind of frowned upon by Mormons, isn’t it?”

“To put it lightly,” she said. “Mom and Dad didn’t disown him like they’ve done to me, but they never let him forget that he brought shame to the family. I don’t know for sure, but I strongly suspect the scandal is a big part of why Mom and Dad packed us up and moved us to Los Angeles. We did that about two months after the baby was born.”

“And your brother stayed behind,” Jake said, trying to wrap his mind around the story.

“He did,” she said. “Dad made it pretty clear that he wanted Joey and Sarah and Brian—that’s my nephew’s name—to stay behind. And so, they did. He and Sarah got married and got a place of their own and started their own life. Mom and Dad have stayed in touch with him over the years, but only on the phone, and usually only to berate him about how he turned out and to tell him he will never be allowed admission into the Kingdom of Heaven. None of us have been back to Pocatello since, and he’s never visited us in Los Angeles. I haven’t seen Brian since he was a tiny baby. He has to be—God, nearly twenty years old now. And they have two other kids too. I’ve never even met them at all.”

“All this because he knocked up some chick back when he was ... what, twenty years old himself?”

“He was nineteen then,” Laura said. “And Sarah was eighteen, just graduated high school. She was the daughter of the Bishop of our ward. The Bishop stepped down after it became known that Sarah was pregnant. He and the entire family disowned her. As far as I know, they’ve never spoken to her again. As for my family, we were forbidden to talk about Joey to anyone in the Los Angeles ward or even at school. Mom and Dad have lived in constant fear that the new ward would find out about him and the whole thing would start over again. At least ... they used to worry about it until I started being mentioned in the papers for living in sin with you. I’m pretty sure their shame of me overrode their shame of Joey.”

“Wow,” Jake said again, shaking his head. “This is a level of intolerance that I cannot even begin to wrap my mind around. Do your people really believe that disowning family just because they dipped their wick and a little miracle happened is what God wants?”

“They really believe that,” she assured him. “You can see now why I want nothing to do with that religion—or any other religion, for that matter.”

“You don’t have to explain it to me,” Jake assured her. “I’ve always felt that way. Are you going to call him?”

She sighed. “Yeah, I guess I need to just so I can find out what this is about. It has to be bad news of some kind. I cannot think of a single good reason why Joey would want to talk to me now, after all these years.”

“Did he disown you as well?” Jake asked.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I haven’t talked to him at all since we moved to LA. Mom would give me updates on him from time to time, but they were always negative updates, I think as a warning of what happened when you went against the teachings of the church. And it’s sad, really, because Joey was the sibling I was closest to when I was little.”

“Really?”

She nodded. “He was my big brother,” she said whimsically. “I mean, Aaron was my big brother too, but he was only eighteen months older than me, and he and I never really got along all that well. Joey was eight years older. He used to babysit me and Aaron when Mom and Dad had to go to some church function or to work. He used to walk me and Aaron to school. He used to ride me on his handlebars around the neighborhood. He really liked having a baby sister, I think.” She giggled a little. “I helped him meet girls. They would flock to him when they saw that I was with him.”

Jake nodded reverently. Laura’s brother had employed a tried-and-true method of using a known chick-magnet to further his cause. And Laura must have been adorable as a youngster, with her red hair and her freckles and her cute face. They surely would have gathered in force around the big brother that showed such a nurturing instinct. Perhaps that was a factor in his attraction of the Bishop’s daughter. Hmm, Jake thought respectfully. A Bishop’s daughter. I ain’t never had me no Bishop’s daughter. This dude has done something in the sack that I haven’t managed to accomplish.

“It sounds like you had a good relationship with him,” Jake offered, deciding—wisely, no doubt—to keep his speculations and observations to himself.

“I really did,” she said, her expression melancholy. “Well ... I guess I’d better see what this is all about.”

“Here’s the number,” Jake said, picking it up and offering it to her.

“In a minute,” she said, turning back toward the bedroom.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“I need to put something on,” she said.

“Why?”

“I can’t talk to my brother while I’m naked,” she said simply. “Eww.”

“Okay then,” Jake said slowly.

She disappeared and then came back a few minutes later wearing a long, loose-fitting white t-shirt that came down to just above her knees. It was apparent to Jake that she had not put on a bra or even panties beneath it. Apparently, it was okay to talk to one’s brother with no panties or bra on as long as there was outer-wear involved.

“I think I’ll go get out of these clothes and take a quick shower,” he told her.

“Okay,” she said absently. She now had the piece of paper with Joseph II’s number on it. She was staring at it but making no move to pick up the phone.

He went into the bedroom and quickly stripped off his clothes, putting the ski wear in one place while putting his undergarments in the laundry bag. By the time he was done with this and walked back to the bathroom, Laura was on the phone and talking to someone. She had no expression on her face and he could not hear what she was saying. He left her alone and went to take his shower and take account of his own bumps, bruises, aches, and pains.

Once he was toweled off, he threw on a pair of sweatpants and walked back out into the sitting room. Laura was still at the writing desk, her expression one of deep thought. She did not look particularly upset.

“Well?” he asked her carefully. “Was it bad news?”

“No,” she said softly. “It was actually good news—kind of, anyway.”

“Do tell,” he said.

“He just had his first grandchild,” she said.

Jake raised his eyebrows a bit. “Grandchild?” he asked. “How old is he?”

“Just a little over two months old,” she said. “Everett Ryan Best. He was born on September 27, the first day of the TSF. Isn’t that wild?”

“Uh ... yeah ... very wild,” Jake said. “But ... uh ... I meant how old is your brother? Isn’t he a little young to be having grandchildren?”

“He’s thirty-nine,” she said. “And yes, he is a little young for grandkids, but he has one anyway. Brian, the baby he and Sarah had back when I was twelve years old, is now nineteen himself. He got his high school sweetheart pregnant back in January. They got married in April—on my birthday, if you can believe that—and she had the baby while we were at the TSF.”

“Wow,” Jake said for the third time that night. “Talk about family traditions.”

“I know, right,” Laura said. “He wanted me to know about Everett and he figured that Mom and Dad would not reach out to let me know about him, so he wanted to tell me himself.”

“He told your parents about it?” Jake asked.

“On several occasions,” she said. “He told them when he was told about the pregnancy back in March, back when Brian and his girlfriend got married in April, and again when Everett was actually born. He says that they are far from supportive and far from happy to be great grandparents. In fact, they told him not to call or contact them ever again.”

“You’re not giving me any warm fuzzies about your parents here, hon,” he told her. “I hope that wasn’t your intention.”

She smiled a little. “It was not,” she assured him. “In truth, I’ve lost what little respect I still had for them over the past ten minutes. Joey said it wasn’t even the out-of-wedlock pregnancy that upset them the most, it was the fact that Brian’s girlfriend is not a member of the church and has no plans of converting. Anyway, Joey apologized for not responding to the wedding announcement I sent him back when you and I got married. He says he was still trying to maintain a relationship with Mom and Dad back then and they told all the brothers and sisters not to acknowledge my existence or they would be dead to them too.”

“But he’s changed his mind about that?”

“Joey has, yes,” Laura said. “And I believe him. He says that the way Mom and Dad treated him and talked to him after Brian’s girlfriend got pregnant was beyond atrocious. Especially that last conversation after the baby was born and they were finally told that she wasn’t Mormon. Everyone else in the family has broken ties with him now. He said it made him realize what I had been going through all these years and made him want to reach out to me. He tried to call me and write to me at the address and number I had put on the wedding announcement—he kept it—but that was for the Nottingham Drive house and we don’t live there anymore. And then, just a few days ago, he read in the Pocatello newspaper that you and I were visiting up here at Schweitzer for a ski vacation. He tried to contact me directly at the hotel, but, of course, we’re not checked in under our real names. So, he dug a little deeper using the internet and found out that Pauline is my manager. He dug up her number and gave her a call. And that’s how he finally managed to get in touch.”

Jake nodded. “Nerdly would be proud of their use of the internet in that manner,” he said.

“I’m sure he would,” she said.

“Well then,” Jake said, “this has all been very interesting. I’m glad you were able to talk to your brother after all these years and learn about your new ... what is it ... grandnephew?”

“That would be the correct term,” she said.

“Grandnephew ... right,” Jake said. “And now, how about we find our way into the bedroom there and have ourselves a little...”

“Joey invited us to visit,” she interrupted.

He looked at her. “Did he now?” he asked carefully.

She nodded. “I told him that we’ll be here in Schweitzer for another two days but after that, we have no firm plans.”

“You told him that?”

“I did,” she said.

“Well ... I mean ... I thought that we were thinking about flying over to Jackson Hole and trying out the whole snowmobiling in Yellowstone Park thing.”

“We were just talking about that,” she said. “We haven’t actually booked anything.”

“That’s true,” Jake said, “but...”

“I’d like to go see him, sweetie,” she said quietly.

“You would?”

She nodded. “I would,” she said. “I’d like to see Brian and Sarah and Joey’s other kids. I’d like to meet my new grandnephew. Mostly, I’d like to reconnect with a part of my family. I don’t have any family right now, Jake. Can you appreciate what that is like?”

“No, not really,” Jake admitted. “But there’s a reason why you don’t have contact with your family, right? They’re intolerant and judgmental. It was they who broke contact with you, not the other way around.”

“I understand,” she said. “But now, Joey has reached out to me. I’d like to reach back and see where it goes.”

Jake suppressed a sigh. He had absolutely no desire to go to Pocatello, Idaho and meet members of Laura’s estranged Mormon family. On his scale of desirability, such a thing rated only slightly above traveling to Zaire during an Ebola outbreak. But ... his wife wanted to do it and she did not ask for much from him. “All right,” he said. “If you’d like to go, we’ll go.”

She smiled, clearly very happy about his decision. “Yay!” she said, clapping her hands a little. “I’ll call Joey back and let him know.”

“You do that,” he said, fighting (and generally succeeding) to keep the false enthusiasm in his tone. “I’m going to make a drink.”