Chapter 30

At six o'clock, Sam finally gave up on trying to sleep. He turned on his phone again expecting to have a voice mail from his daughter. He didn't.

So he called Al in New York. He could at least get Emmy's cell phone number and talk to her.

Esmi answered on the second ring and was sounded surprised to hear from Sam.

"Uh, hi," Sam said. "I'm really sorry to bother you. But I was wondering if you might have Emmy call me."

"Emmy?" Esmi asked. "Why? Does this have something to do with Brock?"

"It does," Sam said. "He's, uh, well, he's not doing too well. I'm worried about him."

"So are we," Esmi admitted. "Emmy said he's been really grouchy."

"Because everyone wants him to act like they think he should act," Sam snapped. "Because all these people out here expected him to comfort them for their ordeal and completely forgot that he's the one who got hurt. My daughter is the worst. She just ran off and left him when he wouldn't react the way she thought he should. But the rest of them aren't much better."

"Emmy, too?" Esmi asked.

"Her name didn't come up specifically but I'm sure she's as much to blame as the rest of them," Sam said. His lack of sleep and the fact he was worried that another child of his was headed in the wrong direction made him as bad-tempered as Brock had become. "They all think they know what's best for him but they didn't bother to ask his opinion on the subject. They just went ahead with whatever plan they concocted. I finally got him to talk last night. Or, you know what, that's probably bullshit. I finally let him talk last night. I finally let him tell someone what's bothering him instead of telling how rough everyone had it when he got attacked. Then he sat there and drank 10 beers before passing out on his couch."

Esmi, for perhaps the first time in her life, was speechless. It took her several moments to understand what had been going on.

"I'll give you Emmy's number," she said finally. "Maybe she and Zoe can help. What about the others? Have you talked to them?"

"I don't have any of their numbers," Sam said.

"Have you spoken to Meredith?" Esmi wondered.

"Oh, I spoke to her, alright," Sam said, anger creeping back into his voice. "She was too busy partying with her friends at four o'clock in the God-damned morning to give a shit about Brock."

Esmi was shocked. She and Al had seen Randi and Meredith at a concert in New York on Halloween. They had spoken to both young women for several minutes and both expressed concern about how Brock was doing.

"How about Randi?" Esmi asked.

"She's in Boston, I guess," Sam said. "Meredith decided to stay in New York and get coked up with her new buddies. I've been through that once and I'm not going through it again. Meredith thinks she is so God damned smart, well, let her figure out what's important. But Brock will be long gone by then. She treated him like dog shit once and he forgave her. This time, she'll have to learn that choices have consequences."

Sam realized he was speaking to a relative stranger.

"I'm sorry, Esmi," he said. "I called Meredith as soon as I left Brock's house last night. I told her it was urgent. Three or four hours later, she called me back. Then she was too worried about getting back to her friends to even consider Brock. I'm so damned mad at her. Well, she's going to be in for a shock. I hope Randi pays her well to be her assistant because I'm going to the bank as soon as it opens and put a stop to her getting any of my damned money. I'm not going to watch another child spiral out of control."

"Do you want me to call Emmy?" Esmi asked. Sam sounded as though he was at the end of his rope. He had enough to worry about without taking on something else.

"I'd like to speak to her," Sam said in a softer tone. "Esmi, I really do apologize."

"Nothing to apologize for," she said. "If I see Meredith in New York, I'll mention that she should probably consider going back to Los Angeles. I'm sure if Al gives her a disapproving glare, she'll get the hint."

"Don't bother," Sam said. "You can't force that girl to do a damned thing she doesn't want to do. But you might mention that if she doesn't come to her senses pretty damned quickly the best thing in her life will probably walk right out the door."

"I will," Esmi promised. She decided that she would call Meredith as soon as she was off the phone with Emmy.

Brock awoke with a splitting head and a bloated stomach to the sound of a key in his front door. He knew only three people had a key so he wasn't too worried since two of them were out of town.

Then he glanced over at the empty beer bottles on his coffee table. He sat up to gather them and put them in the recycling bin. The last thing he needed was one of his friends to start giving him shit about his drinking habits.

He was too slow. He still had them in his arms when Emmy and Zoe came through the door. He groaned and prepared for the ration of shit he was certain was coming his way.

Instead both women smiled. Emmy came forward to help with the bottles in his arms and Zoe walked past carrying two bags.

"We brought you some Tylenol and some Gatorade," Zoe said from the kitchen.

"And some breakfast," Emmy added.

"Sam called you, didn't he?" Brock asked.

"Nope," Emmy said. "We have other sources. Didn't you know that Zoe installed cameras in every room to make sure you're safe?"

"Funny," Brock said. "Well, I guess I can accept half-ass humor since I'm sure my only other alternative is an ass-chewing."

"Why would we yell?" Zoe asked. "You're an adult. In fact, we were just going to put this on the counter and hang out until you woke up."

"I slept 11 hours," Brock told her after looking at the clock. It was just after eight a.m. "I heard your key in the lock."

"And tried to clean up the evidence," Emmy said with a laugh. "That's probably a crime."

"Besides, everyone needs a good blowout from time to time," Zoe said. "You should have called. We'd have joined you."

"I was sound asleep by the time you got off work," Brock said.

"I don't work Sundays," Zoe said.

"Oh, uh, I guess I didn't know what day of the week it was," Brock admitted. "The days sort of run together when you have nothing to do. Sorry, I would have called. It wasn't really a party. I was just hanging out with Sam. We planned a fishing trip and the beer was going down smooth."

Zoe smiled and patted his hand.

"Don't feel guilty," she said. "I know I usually come out to visit on Sunday but Emmy and I wanted a day together. We figured that you probably needed a day by yourself, too."

"I haven't seen a soul in a week," Brock said. "Since you left last Sunday evening until Sam showed up yesterday, it's been just me."

Emmy and Zoe both frowned.

"Yeah, we heard about that, too, from our source," Emmy said. "I'm sorry. I was tied up on a project. I haven't seen anyone this week."

"It's no problem," Brock replied. "I know everyone has lives to lead. Plus, I haven't been very nice to people lately."

"You've been nice to us," Zoe said with a shrug. "I figure the rest of them were on your last nerve. That's why I try not to overstay my welcome."

"So, did you hear the rest of what Sam and I talked about?" Brock asked with a sigh.

"Some," Emmy admitted. "We'd prefer to hear it from you. Third-hand information tends to get distorted."

"So Meredith called you," Brock said. "I would have preferred that Sam kept some of the conversation quiet but I guess we are talking about his daughter."

"Esmi called me," Emmy corrected. "Sam called her this morning and she called me."

"And voila, here we are," Zoe said with a grin. "So, what's going on? I spoke to Mel on Wednesday but I haven't heard much from anyone else."

"Me either," Brock told his sister. "Susan called on, oh hell, one day. I talked to Jen for a couple of minutes but she is buried right now. Tara is going to be in the booth this weekend for a game on ASN so she's been brushing up on her knowledge of Washington and Utah."

"That was Saturday, Brock," Emmy said. "She's already done the game."

"Shit," Brock said. "I wanted to watch it. Well, at least listen to it. How did she do?"

"Really well," Zoe said, suddenly concerned for her brother's mental well-being. "Bro, are you sure you're OK?"

"No," Brock admitted after a long silence. "I'm pretty sure I'm not OK. I've been, well, I've been angry for the past couple of months. I know that. But I sort of figured out this week that everyone has pissed me off so much with their own personal crises that I haven't had a chance to be angry about what happened. Everyone had an agenda and they got irritated at me if I didn't play along. Hell, Meredith has insisted from the outset that everyone else's feelings about what happened are more important than mine."

"I didn't realize it had gotten that bad," Emmy said. "Uh, when's the last time you talked to Meredith?"

"I don't know," Brock replied. "The day after Halloween, whenever that was. The day those photos were all over the internet."

"So it's only been a couple of days," Zoe said with a nod. "Are things good between you two?"

"How in the hell should I know?" Brock answered. "If you knew anything about my relationship with Meredith Van Landingham, you'd know that I never have the faintest fucking clue about how things are going. I am, literally, the last to know anything when it comes to that woman."

Emmy and Zoe exchanged glances.

"So, you're still dating though?" Emmy chanced.

Again, Brock simply raised his hands in a helpless gesture.

"We had some harsh words a couple of days ago and I haven't heard from her since," he said. "I told her that if she was done with me, at least this time, to have the courtesy to tell me. She hasn't called so I guess we are together. Why? Have you heard differently?"

"No," Zoe said quickly. "It's just, well, I'm not sure you shouldn't make the move this time. I mean, I like Meredith. I really do. But I'm not real pleased with how she's treated you. It's not just with how she expected you to act after everything happened. It's the whole running off with Randi again. She insisted to everyone that she would be the one to help you get through this. Then she just up and left."

"I was pretty rough on her," Brock confessed. "She was around so she got the brunt of the shit that I was forbidden to say to anyone else."

"Still," Emmy said.

"Yeah," Brock agreed. "Still ... it was her own fault. I mean, I got really tired of listening to how upset everyone was while I was in the hospital. I know you were upset, Zoe. I know you were, too, Emmy. I appreciate the concern you showed. But I'd like to think that I'm just as important as everyone else. You know, since it was actually me who was harmed."

"I wish I would have known this sooner," Zoe said. "I would have put a stop to this garbage. So, do you think it might be time to move on? You and she had a good few months."

"No we didn't," Brock corrected. "We had a fucked up few months. It was the exact same bullshit as when we were younger. We probably didn't spend two days alone together. Every time we would do anything it would require a major production. Randi would have to come with us or we'd have to call everyone to see what they were doing. But I've always cared for her. I guess I'm willing to put up with whatever I need to in order to spend time with her. Up until this craziness, I never minded. Well, I guess I didn't mind that much. What I'd really like is to have a chance to get to know Meredith without all the bullshit getting in the way."

"That might be why she keeps throwing the bullshit at you," Emmy said. The more she listened to Brock the angrier she was becoming. "Because she figures if you do get to know her, you'll drop her like a bad habit."

"That's unfair," Brock said. "Look, she is really sweet. She's hilarious, too. She's one of the few people who has always treated me as a normal person."

Zoe let out a loud sigh.

"Brock, do you know where she is right now?" she asked. She hated to be the one to tell him what was going on. But he was her brother and he deserved to know.

"Probably," he said. "Let's see, it's Monday. Friday and Saturday were New York. Sunday and today is Boston and tomorrow is Providence."

"She's still in New York," Zoe said. "At least she was at four o'clock this morning when her dad spoke to her. Or at least he tried to speak to her. She was still partying so he didn't get to say much. I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt your feelings but I think you should know."

Both women were surprised when Brock only nodded and shrugged his shoulders.

"She's a big girl," he said. "If that's what she wants to do, she should do it. I don't think she's screwing around or anything. If she is, that would probably make a difference. But I can't really talk. I mean, we're not dating each other exclusively. Still, I'm sure Randi would rather she was in Boston."

"So you don't care what she's doing?" Emmy asked.

"Oh, I care," Brock said. "But only within the boundaries of what I find important. Do I care that she's out until four a.m.? Not really so long as she's safe. I do care that she's made a commitment to Randi and appears to have broken it. Or maybe she got on Randi's nerves and Randi told her to take a couple of days. You know, I don't ever think Meredith has lied to me. Oh, she's kept things hidden but if I ask her a question I'm pretty sure she'd tell me. She knows how I feel about dishonesty and she knows how big I am on trust.

"Right now, I trust her," he continued, looking at both women to be sure they understood. "Our only agreement while she was on the road was about ... well it was about not having sex with anyone else. That was more about safety than fidelity. I would like to have a serious relationship with her. But if she's not ready – and if you're right, it appears she isn't – then what I want doesn't matter. If I find out she's broken our agreement, then we'll be through."

"I'm glad you're not hurt," Emmy said. "We weren't sure whether to tell you but we decided you should know. I barely know her, to be honest. So I haven't come to trust her yet. I think Zoe is the same way."

"You have to understand that for most of the time, it was me who was on the road," Brock pointed out. "Sure, I wasn't gone for 20 or 30 days at a time but I was gone a lot. She trusted me, so I'll trust her. Just like you and Zoe trust one another."

"I guess," Zoe said, but she didn't sound convinced.

Meredith's cell phone alarm woke her only a few hours after she had gotten to sleep. Her head was still fuzzy from the Manhattans she had downed and cocaine she had snorted before her father's phone call.

She had tried to call her dad back but his phone had gone straight to voicemail. His words still reverberated in her head, addled as her thinking had been.

She had kicked everyone out of the suite and forced them to pick up some drunken bitch named Sarah who had passed out on the floor. Thankfully she hadn't puked on anything. The people in the room had pissed and moaned but she was finally able to get them to leave. Her hotel suite was a wreck. There were beer bottles all over the place and cocaine residue on a mirror on her coffee table.

None of those were from Sunday night. They were still left over from Saturday's bash. She shuddered when her mind drifted back to some of the things she'd done in the past 48 hours. She had awakened Sunday morning with another body nestled behind her.

The clock read 11 a.m. so she jabbed an elbow backward.

"Wake up, Randi," she said. "You have rehearsal in an hour."

She was startled completely when a male voice asked who Randi was.

"That the boyfriend back home?" he wondered in a voice slurred from sleep andrecreational drug use.

Meredith sat bolt upright in her bed.

"Get the fuck out of here!" she yelled. She recognized her bedmate as the drummer for a rock group who had performed at the same concert as Randi on Halloween night.

"Hey, take it easy," the man said.

"I said get the fuck out of here!" Meredith said. "I'm going to take a shower. If you're not gone when I get out I will hurt you. If you think I'm kidding you just keep your untalented ass where it is."

"How about I join you in the shower for a while?" the guy asked.

"If you try, you'll get hurt even sooner," she hissed. She was gratified when she realized she was still clothed. She still had on the same T-shirt she had slept in on Friday night. A quick feel told her she still wore her panties too.

She thought that she might have kept from doing anything completely stupid – until she got in the shower and saw the hickey on her breast. Then she sat down in the tub and cried.

She considered just leaving for Boston as soon as she got out of the shower but she found her front room littered with passed out bodies. Most of them she had no idea who they even were but a couple of them she recognized.

She saw a young woman she and Randi had befriended on Halloween and nudged her with a shoe.

"Wake up and get these idiots the fuck out of my room," she told the bleary-eyed girl. The girl shook her head and rolled back over to sleep. The man Meredith woke up beside was gone but two of his band mates were still there. She tried them next and got the same result.

It was after three o'clock by the time everyone was functioning – too late to get to Boston to meet up with Randi. She would have to catch her in Providence.

"Kick-ass party," a woman muttered as she found her shoes. "Same time tonight?"

"Hell no," Meredith wanted to say. But the few hours she'd had to herself while trying to get people awake and moving had left her mind to roam free. She had ruined her life. She was certain of that. And she couldn't even remember doing it. She wasn't certain that she'd had sex with anyone. But she'd sure as hell let someone nibble on her tits.

"Come on," another person said. "Let's get some food. It's Sunday night and there is supposed to be a wild rave at Club K."

So she let herself get sucked back into another night on the town. The thing she wanted most in the world was gone so why should it matter. She danced with a bunch of guys and let them buy her drinks all night. She passed $1,000 to a guy who said he knew where to score and did a few lines when he proved to be right.

She was positive she would have woken up with a different guy beside her if her dad hadn't called. The guy she'd been making out with all night was particularly unhappy when she threatened to call the cops if they weren't gone in 10 minutes. He had been certain he was going to get lucky and he was probably right.

Meredith had tried to go to sleep but she found herself too wired to doze off. She tried her dad a couple of more times and thought about calling Brock. But she didn't know what she'd say. The same was true of Randi. Randi had been pissed at Meredith after Friday night and had been even more pissed when Meredith decided to stay in New York on Saturday.

As the water cascaded across her body on Monday morning, she once again looked at the bruises on her breasts and felt a sense of shame wash over her. With tears in her eyes, she dialed the concierge to see if he could get her on the next flight to Los Angeles.

Meredith planned to wait until she was at the airport to phone her dad. When she reached the front desk, she found that wasn't going to be possible.

Her Visa card, tied to a bank account in Los Angeles, was declined. Meredith was certain it was a mistake. She knew she had spent a good deal of money in the past days but there had been close to a quarter of million dollars in that account when she left Los Angeles.

When the card was declined a second time, she began to panic. Her first thought was that someone had managed to clone the card and had racked up $200,000 in purchases. That could be done fairly quickly in New York. She had used the card everywhere she'd gone since they arrived in New York on Thursday. She'd used it at upscale restaurants and seedy clubs. The card had passed through two dozen hands in 72 hours.

She was thankful she had enough cash left to pay for the damage to the hotel suite. But she wasn't sure she would have enough to pay for a plane ticket when she got to the airport.

She found her hands were shaking when she dialed her father's number. She hoped and prayed he would answer. She only had enough time to get through security and catch the plane. If she had to find a way to pay for a ticket, she would miss it.

"What?" Sam asked in a harsh tone. He had expected Meredith to call hours earlier. It was after 11 o'clock in Los Angeles which meant was past two o'clock in the afternoon in New York.

"Dad," Meredith said. "Uh, there's something wrong with my credit card. I think someone might have found a way to duplicate it or something."

"There's nothing wrong with your credit card," Sam said. "There is, however, something wrong with your credit – as in, I've cut it off. I can't tell you what to do but I will not finance your destruction. Do you realize you've spent close to $30,000 in three days?"

Meredith gulped. She had been paying for almost everything for three days. The hotel room ran $2,200 a night. She remembered a bar tab for close to $3,000. Plus she had spent close to $8,000 on drugs.

"I know, Dad," Meredith said. "I'm sorry."

"You're damn right you're sorry," he said.

"Dad, listen, I'm trying to get back to L.A. but I need to pay for the ticket," Meredith told him. "I have enough time to get through security but I don't have much more. Will you help me?"

"You're coming home?" Sam asked.

"I'm on my way to the airport," Meredith said. "My flight is at 3:30. I should land in L.A. about 5 p.m. Can you pick me up at LAX?"

"I suppose," Sam said. "But I expected you on an earlier flight."

"I should have booked one right after I talked to you," Meredith admitted. "But it took me some time to..."

"To get rid of your new friends or to explain to your new boyfriend?" Sam asked.

"He's not a new anything," Meredith said angrily. "Yeah, I fucked up, Dad. I did some really stupid shit in the past few days and I'll probably regret it for the rest of my life. It took me a while to clear everyone out of the suite. I planned to just grab a quick nap and head out but I didn't wake up until noon. This is the earliest flight I could make. Now, will you help or should I have the taxi drop me at an Amtrak station?"