With Brock and Pandora enjoying a night in, and the return of Ame to Seattle, we turn our attentions to Maxwell and Felicity Hines. A prearranged dinner is about to end in disaster. Also, the next day we see just what happens at Simone’s Doctor’s appointment.
Brock listened intently to Pandora explain that she needed to speak to Simone BEFORE the girls luncheon reunion. Her reluctance to even having to deal with the girl showed especially in the way she sighed and the sad look in her eyes. Brock was unhappy that she was feeling this way about a girl that had been her best friend. He truly felt like he had ruined that for her by his thoughtless actions. Taking a spoonful of the ice cream monster, he placed the spoon in his mouth and nodded thoughtfully when Pandora expressed the wish not to have to discuss the issue further. In fact, she didn want to even think about it. Simply relax with him in stead.
Reaching for the TV remote, he turned it on, so he and Pandora could snuggle in bed, eat ice cream and enjoy a movie. Settling back, he dug the spoon into the ice cream mountain again, and then asked her a question.
“Are you excited about the new house? I know its going to be a lot more work than a simple apartment. And we have to go furniture shopping. Just letting you know now, I totally suck at that sort of thing.”
The house that awaited them was a dream really. No doubt Pandora would find herself very busy over the next few years making it a home.
“Might invite Jason and Jane over after we move in. I wonder how they are going.” Brock said, taking another bite of ice cream as the Ghost busters movie – the original came on the screen.
“Hey hey! I love this movie.”
<3>
Brock didn’t make a comment, knowing it was probably an exercise in futility. Not wanting to depress her further, and to get her mind off the past, he grabbed the remote to the tv and flipped it on. He flipped through the channels while helping her go through the mountain of ice cream before asking her thoughts on the house.
“Are you excited about the new house? I know its going to be a lot more work than a simple apartment. And we have to go furniture shopping. Just letting you know now, I totally suck at that sort of thing.”
At that her thoughts moved to a happier medium. “Are you kidding? I haven’t even seen the inside of it yet and I already have all these ideas. I’ve thought about converting the basement into a ‘man cave’ for you, so you have some space to hang out with your buddies. But the garage is mine.” She was forceful in her convictions about making the place their own. “And I was serious about letting Jane work the yard. I don’t know a damn thing about lawn care and flowers.”
“Might invite Jason and Jane over after we move in. I wonder how they are going.”
“They are cute together. I wasn’t surprised when they hooked up.” she stated as she took a bite of ice cream. Brock stopped flipping channels when one particular movie popped up on the screen.
“Hey hey! I love this movie.”
Pandora grinned as well. “Ghostbusters” was in her top 10 list of all-time favorite movies. “As do I.” she agreed, settling in beside him. As the movie progressed, they slowly made their way through the mountain of ice cream, but Pandora was finding herself becoming sleepier and sleepier as time went on. Near the middle of the movie, her head was resting on Brock’s chest, the spoon in her hand slowly slipping from her fingers as she slowly fell asleep. By the time the movie was over, she was sound asleep.
——
Outside the hotel
George was becoming frustrated. He had stolen some clothes from a Salvation Army bin down the street and had tried to get into the hotel. The doorman had been suspicious but had allowed the man inside. Thinking nothing of it, he went directly to the desk and inquired about the room his step-daughter was currently in. He was politely rebuffed. Annoyed, he demanded to know what room she was in, declaring it a ‘family emergency’. The clerk stated that if it was an emergency, then he should already know what room she was in and to call direct. The clerk then asked hotel security to escort George out, and non-too-gently they did, shoving him into the street without so much as a “thank you”. He started to rant and rave, raising his fists as if he were going to attack. The security guards, both bigger and taller then him, told him in no uncertain terms that if he continued his intended course of action, they would have no choice but to call the police – the kind of attention George did not want. Grumbling under his breath, he stomped back to the car. Denise wisely kept silent, less he turn his anger onto her.
“That bitch is going to be in a world of hurt when I get my hands on her!” he snarled.
It was a good thing the movie came on when it did. One of Pandora’s favourite movies, and something that would help her relax and unwind. Slowly though, the ice cream mountain was taking it’s toll on Pandora, to the point Brock felt her head rest on his chest, as the spoon slipped from her fingers and landed unceremoniously on his crotch.
“Heh.”
He stared at her and saw her eyes were closed – the soft sounds of her snores so endearing. Brock took up the spoon and the giant bowl of ice cream and put them on the bedside table, before he pushed back the bed covers. He helped ease Pandora under them, and resting her head on the pillow, while he went to put the rest of the ice cream in the freezer. It was simply too much for the pair of them. Coming back into the bedroom, he switched off the television set and took off his shirt and jeans, more or less stripping off right then and there. He turned out the light, the crawled into bed beside her, drawing her to him so her head would rest on his bare chest just like before. Brock kissed the top of her head, and drew his arm around her tighter as he stared at the window.
Deep in the back of his mind, Brock worried about how Pandora would go with her reconciliation with Simone, if it even happened at all. Part of him wished they could just leave it alone, but Simone was part of a group of friends – something that existed before he came along. Brock knew there was little he could do, but be supportive of Pandora as he promised he would be. He did know one thing. There was nothing on this earth that was ever going to take her from him again.
Little did he know of those that were camped outside the hotel.
<3>
In another part of Seattle, a lone woman was seated at a table in one of the best restaurants in Seattle, slowly twirling the stem of a wine glass between two fingers. Several men had walked past her table, inquiring about her single status and she assured them that she was waiting for her dinner companion. She was kind of annoyed that the previous week, he had stood her up for lunch and hoped he hadn’t run off to drink.
She had extended this invitation to dinner in the hopes it was accepted. They really needed to have this talk, and she was hoping he would listen to her words.
Felicity sighed as she checked her watch.
“25 minutes late…as usual.” she muttered, sipping her wine. “Where are you, Max?”
Ame’s chaufer Sebastian was helping her out with placing her luggage in the back of a 1950 rolls royce then he shut the trunk as soon as he was finished loading the last of the luggage.
“Sebastian, mi prendere per il mio aeroporto privato nelle vicinanze.” (Translation: Sebastian, take me to my private airport nearby.) Ame commanded in her native tongue and her driver nodded and opened the door for her as she slipped into the back, putting her cellphone in her lap as she stared out the window, eager to see her friends once again after a year. Little did she know what had happened in the past year while she was gone that there was drama between her favorite group of friends. Sebastian shut the door to only walk around the car fast paced and slipped into the drivers seat. He started the car to only press down on the gas and moved forward as Ame sat next to a door, watching the scenary go by as she was being taken to the private airport.
What can she do with all of this money that she has? Give a good chunk of it to charities? She did not know what to do with it since she had so much of it by repairing, selling, and designing some cars of her own that she had sold to major car companies.
Soon, they arrived at the private airport of Ame Moretti. She opened the door and stepped out, not even waiting for her driver to get out of the car after putting it into park and shutting the engine off. Sebastian stepped out of the Rolls Royce to only hand Ame the keys, placing them in her hands. Ame gave a nod in thanks before spanking once again, “Voglio che tu inviare la Rolls Royce al mio indirizzo di casa a Seattle, WA così la macchina può essere spedito fuori Italia. Questa vettura è un regalo a uno dei miei amici, ma io proprio non lo so che sta andando a prendere la macchina ancora.” (Translation: I want you to send the Rolls Royce to my home address in Seattle, WA so the car can be shipped out of Italy. This car is a present to one of my friends but I just don’t know who is going to get the car yet.)
Sebastian gave a nod, “Subito, signora. Avrò spedito non appena il vostro bagaglio è fuori del tronco,” (Translation: Right away, ma’am. I will have it shipped out as soon as your luggage is out of the trunk.) his voice was deep and husky sounding as he ran around the car to only open the trunk and took out her luggage for it to be placed on the private jet. Ame picked up her purse from the back of the Rolls Royce and opened it up to give Sebastion his pay for the year he had helped her witht hings. She took out about a hundred grand in hundred dollar bills and gave it to him as soon he shut the trunk. He widened his eyes at the sight of the money and took it, bowing to her for he had never gotten paid this much in his years of driving people places. People who were loading the plane with her luggage got paid directly to their bank accounts since the money was wired over to them. Ame closed her purse back up and jogged to the jet so she can step into it and take off to her home in Seattle to see the girls once again.
The pilot closed the door to the interior after he stepped in since the co-pilot was sitting in her proper seat and nodded to Ame who nodded back and the captain stepped into the cock pit, taking his seat and strapped on his seat belt and was signaled that he was able to take off. He started the engines of the jet to slowly rolled out onto the freeway and started to gain speed while rolling down the road. Within minutes, the jet had enough speed and the pilot lifted the jet off the ground, taking off into the air to head to Seattle, WA, the home of Ame Moretti.
Moretti’s Private Airport
It took a total of 14 hours and 40 minutes to get to Seattle, WA from Rome and boy was it tired some for Ame since she barely got any sleep during the whole flight back. The pilots landed the jet, putting on the air brakes and began to slow down, bringing the jet to the building to park it. Coming to a stop within the large building, the door on the side of the vehicle and Ame walked down the steps, taking in a breath of the air and she smelt rain. She smiled widely, having missed the smell of rain in her hometown for she head to her baby, the 1969 Dodge Charger. She let a hand slide across the left panel, feeling its metal beneath her hand as she took out the keys to the car from her purse and unlocked the door, opening up tot he drivers side to only throw her purse onto the passenger seat and walked to the trunk and opened it and signaled for her luggage to be placed in the trunk and shut after everything was in there.
She walked back over to the driver side and slipped her frame into the car, closing her eyes as she savored the feeling of the car’s leather seats against herself. Ame grinned and looked up at the rear view mirror, waiting for the workers to finish loading her luggage into the car. The trunk was shut after every bag was in there and gave her the signal that every thing was all set then gave a smirk and shut the door and turned the key as they engine turned over and began to purr like a true muscle car. She turned on some classic rock music from the radio and stepped on the gas to only move forward and out of the building, heading towards her home.
Hiding behind a dark pair of sunglasses, Maxwell approached the Maitre d’ with a drunken swagger. A lopsided grin, he slouched upon the small podium that the man was standing at ready to guide patrons to their booked tables. His breath reeked of scotch and his clothing smelt like that of a hobo.
The Maitre d’ looked down his nose at Maxwell, who slapped his arm on the way past and ambled over to where his sister was waiting patiently. Maxwell took off his glasses and flung them on the table, before sitting down with a hard thud on the chair, amusing one of the patrons at another table. It was obvious that Maxwell had started his day off early, with a drink with breakfast. God knows how many he had had since then.
“Felicity..my angel in Prada.” Maxwell gushed, snapping his fingers for the nearest waiter to bring the drinks menu.“Garson? Oh…there you are. Yes. Scotch on the rocks and a lovely spritz for my darling Sis.” Maxwell placed his order before lazily turning his attention back to Felicity.
“I want to humbly apologize for standing you up the other day. Or was it the other week? Ha! Can never tell. OH, did I tell you that Muriel left me. That….wrinkly old bag of bones. Dating someone know who looks like they still wear diapers. I mean, that’s great right? I should be happy the old duck found someone that thinks that can bounce her tired buns off the nearest wall for four hours without the need for viagra.”
Maxwell took up a bread stick and chewed it lazily, getting crumbs all over the table.
“Don’t know any society creepers under fifty, do you?”
<3>
A commotion at the entrance drew Felicity from her thoughts and she wanted to bang her head on the table when she saw it was her brother. And clearly he was three sheets to the wind and still flying. She pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache coming on.
“Felicity…my angel in Prada.” he grinned stupidly as he stumbled his way to their table. A waiter appeared at his elbow before he could sit down. “Garson? Oh…there you are. Yes. Scotch on the rocks and a lovely spritz for my darling Sis.” he announced. Felicity knew she had to nip this in the bud.
“Cancel that. We’ll both have club soda.” she stated in a no nonsense tone, practically daring the man to look to her brother for confirmation. Something in her eyes must have frightened the server for he simply nodded and walked away as fast as he legs would carry him. She turned her glare on her brother. “Maxwell! I cannot believe you! How much have you had to drink today? No…don’t answer that. I can smell you from where I’m sitting.” She sat back in her seat with a sigh as she looked him over. His eyes were bleary and blood shot, his clothing was wrinkled and stained in some places and it looked like he hadn’t shaved or showered in weeks. Felicity shook her head, sadness etched in every line of her face. Her brother needed help, and she was the only one who could.
“Why are you doing this? You’re slowly killing yourself and you act like you don’t even care. Mum wanted to fly over and smack some sense to you but I talked her out of it. And poor Da…he sounded so heartbroken. You’re the youngest of us all and yet Mum and Dad loved you the most…and you’re doing a right piss job of throwing away everything they worked for so that we could have our dream jobs.”
She ignored his angsting over Muriel, that ship had sailed the night of that horrible dinner. She tossed a pamphlet on the table before him. On the front of the pamphlet were the words “Seattle Subtance Abuse and Treatment Facility”, located not far from Maxwell’s apartment.
“You need help, Maxwell. I love you, and I’m not going to watch you throw your life down the toilet. You can either go voluntarily or involuntarily but you are going.”
The gauntlet had been thrown down.
Ever the gentleman, Maxwell let Felicity have her moment. Oh yes, she was bringing up Mother and Father, and how dissapointed they were in their “darling boy” who was drinking his life away rather than face his problems head on. He showed something of a childish smirk when she asked how many drinks he had had, then withdrew the question for the stink of him left no doubt at all, that he had started the moment he woke up.
“Why are you doing this?
“Cause..it makes me feel good?” This was actually a lie, but he kept telling himself this in order to continue. He could see the toll this was taking on his sister, as she implored him with all her being that he stop and look at what he was doing with his life. He had such promise, such hope for success, and yet he gave into the bottle, day after day. Was it to help him forget? And if so, what was the reason behind such madness. Felicity was not about to stop her interrogation, as it pained her so to see her younger brother throwing his life away.
“You’re slowly killing yourself and you act like you don’t even care. Mum wanted to fly over and smack some sense to you but I talked her out of it. And poor Da…he sounded so heartbroken. You’re the youngest of us all and yet Mum and Dad loved you the most…and you’re doing a right piss job of throwing away everything they worked for so that we could have our dream jobs.”
He took the brochure that she threw across the table and flicked it open. Maxwell squinted as he could barely make out the words on the page. Setting down the pamphlet, he reached in his pocket for his reading glasses, something that he was not terribly proud to wear out in public. With shaking hands he again picked up the pamphlet and started to read.
“This…isn’t a health spa is it?” He flipped it over, looking to see if they had amenities, like it was some sort of resort. The more he read, the more he came to understand exactly what this was. Maxwell tossed the pamphlet down on the table and waved his hand dismissively. “I don’t need this, Sis. I…I can quit anytime I want too.” Again, more lies.
He glanced around the other tables to see other people drinking. Wetting his lips with his tongue, he was about to get up and go steal a drink from another table, when his sister said.
“You need help, Maxwell. I love you, and I’m not going to watch you throw your life down the toilet. You can either go voluntarily or involuntarily but you are going.”
This was not a request. This was a real and very clear threat of action on her part. Maxwell immediately started to make excuses.
“What about the gallery? Lucy? She needs me. We have exhibitions. Some…girl named Roi. Or something. Yes…we have a lot coming up. Who is going to help her if I am not there?”
The truth about Lucy…was about to come home to roost.
<3>
Felicity waited as Maxwell looked over the pamphlet. She snorted when he asked if it was a health spa. But the more he read, the more he came to understand exactly what it was.
“I don’t need this, Sis. I…I can quit anytime I want to.” She could hear the lie as clearly as she could hear a sneeze from across the room and the fire in her eyes ramped up a notch.
She saw the look in his eyes as he looked around at the people drinking at the other tables. She was not falling for it.
“What about the gallery? Lucy? She needs me. We have exhibitions. Some…girl named Roi. Or something. Yes…we have a lot coming up. Who is going to help her if I am not there?”
Felicity stared at her brother, a bitter laugh erupting from her throat.
“The gallery? As far as I am aware, you’ve pretty much have been shot of the gallery! Lucy runs that place like she fucking owns it! She doesn’t need you! She’s doing the work of twenty people with barely a finger. You can’t even fucking remember the name of the artist who’s showing this weekend! What the hell does that tell you, Maxwell?” she exploded, bringing all eyes to their table, undisguised curiosity on every face as the blonde woman went up one side of the man she was with and down the other. “Lucy. Doesn’t. Need. You!” She spat each word as if it were a curse. “She doesn’t need this drunken bum, who smells like he took a bath in scotch! She needs the man who took charge of his life and opened the gallery all of Seattle would kill to show in!” she snarled, slamming her hand so hard on the table, a couple of glasses fell over with a crash.
By the end of her rant, she was breathing like she had been running a marathon.
“I’m sorry, Max. I love you too much to let you shove your life down the shitter.” She waved her hand to someone behind Max and two men approached the table. They were dressed all in white with the initals “S.S.A.T.F.” stitched along the breast pockets.
“Ms Hines?”
“Yes.”
“Dr Monroe stated you may have need of us. Is this the patient?” A heavy hand dropped onto Max’s shoulder.
“This is my brother, Maxwell Hines. Did Dr Monroe receive my paperwork?”
“Yes, ma’am. Everything is in order. We’re just awaiting the arrival of your brother so he can begin treatment.”
“Oh he’s very ready to begin.” Felicity nodded, staring sadly at her brother. She hated going behind his back like this…but she was not going to watch him drink himself to death. Her parents would never forgive her for not doing everything she could for him. The man on the left handed her a clipboard with for a final signature needed to have Max involuntarily admitted to the Treatment Facility. She quickly signed it and handed it back. “I am sorry, Max. One day, you may or may not thank me for this.” And with that, the two orderlies made move to grab Max by his arms to lead him out of the restaurant.
…<3…
The matter of Lucy and the Gallery for that matter were things that Maxwell truly had not given two shits about. Not since the fated dinner, and probably for months before – he would go in and sit at his desk, playing Minecraft as he waited for the pubs to open. He was also taking bottles of booze into the office – squirreling away like some hermit while Lucy did ALL the work. In fact she gave up on even asking Max for anything some time ago. It was only now, as his sister berated him over her, that the truth was about to come home. Like a donky kicking him fair in the teeth. He showed a look that was one of feigned surprise, even going as far as to scoff the suggestion that Lucy didn’t need him. He had being lying to himself this long, he could keep up the charade. This was how conceited he truly was.
“Lucy. Doesn’t. Need. You!”
In his defense, he picked up a bread stick and tapped it on the table till it broke.
“I’M…I’M MAXWELL HINES. A GODDAMN PILLAR OF THE SEATTLE ART WORLD. AN EXPERT ON HOW TO SHAG OLD WEALTHY DUCKS WITH COBWEB COOCHIES. YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I HAVE DONE TO GET THE SPONSORSHIPS…WHO I HAVE SLEPT WITH…THE HORRORS….YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT I HAVE SEEN. NOW IF YOU WILL EXCUSE ME, I HAVE A DATE WITH THE BAR!”
It was then that the two muscle bound employees from the rehab clinic appeared and placed hands on Maxwell’s shoulders.
“Ms Hines?”
“Yes.”
“Dr Monroe stated you may have need of us. Is this the patient?” A heavy hand dropped onto Max’s shoulder.
“This is my brother, Maxwell Hines. Did Dr Monroe receive my paperwork?”
“Yes, ma’am. Everything is in order. We’re just awaiting the arrival of your brother so he can begin treatment.”
“What? WHAT?! No..no, you can’t do this. Felicity..please!”
“I am sorry, Max. One day, you may or may not thank me for this.” Felicity signed off on his treatment, and the two men tried to drag Maxwell out of his chair. Needless to say, he put up a fight…a drunken one.
“Get…get your hands off me, you grape apes. You can’t do this! Not in a crowded restaurant. FELICITY!!!”
Mawell screamed and kicked as he was hauled out. Like a mental patient that was being hauled off to an institution. It was pitiful to watch.
“FELICITY!!!….” His voice trailing out the door.
<3>
Doctor Benson’s Clinic on Fifth
Arriving ten minutes early for the scheduled appointment, Erica was leading Simone along the hallway to Doctor Benson’s office. It had been a hectic morning, just trying to get Simone to go. She protested for much of the trip in and then when she was faced with the fact that she was having to see a Doctor about this, nerves hit in home.
“Do I have to do this?” Simone begged as Erica went to reach for the door handle to the office waiting room. Erica gave her a filthy look. “For the one hundredth time, yes. Now quit being a baby and come on in.” Erica opened the door to a sea of expectant mothers at all stages of pregnancy. Some even had young children with them. The waiting room was brightly coloured, with walls littered with happy snap baby photos, and thank you cards to Doctor Benson from many a happy parent. Simone cringed as she took it all in.
“I don’t belong in here.”
Erica marched Simone up to the nurse at the reception desk and gave her her brightest smile.
“Simone Jackson is here for her nine am appointment.”
The nurse looked up and then saw the star of the musical stage shows in Seattle, looking around and appearing very uncomfortable with the surrounds. “Ah yes. Miss Jackson, if you could just fill out this form and go pee in this cup.”
“What?” Simone asked, seeing the dainty cup and the clip board. She took up the cup and made a face, shivering as though it was something disgusting. Erica gave her a side ways glance, as she started to fill out the form for Simone.
“Go pee in the cup while I get this done for you.”
“Why can’t I just pee on a stick?”
“Because…they want more pee?’
“Ewww…how am I going to pee in something this dinky?”
The nurse looked over her glasses at Simone, who was acting like a spoilt brat. “Miss Jackson, please if you would just go and fill up the cup, and bring it back when your done. The Doctor will call you.”
Simone rolled her eyes and went off to the rest room, leaving Erica to do the paperwork. The nurse leaned forward and whispered. “I take it this is her first time.” Erica whispered back. “If you think that was bad, you should have seen her in the car.” The two women nodded in agreement, as swearing could be heard coming from the rest room.
“GOD DAMMIT!..PEED ON MY HAND!”
The whole waiting room heard that one, with some mother’s giggling at her exploits. How hard was it to pee into a cup? For Simone, it was. She came out minutes later and took the cup over to the desk, where the nurse simply pointed her to sit down with Erica. Erica was flicking through a magazine, as a little boy stood in front of Simone, picking his nose. Simone sneered at him “Disgusting child.” The boy ran to his mother, who scowled at Simone. Simone sat down with a huff and held onto her sample cup.
“What is taking so long?!” Clearly, she hated to be made to wait. Another ten minutes passed with Simone fidgeting and whining, when a very handsome doctor opened the door.
“Miss…Jackson?”
Simone looked up and her mouth fell open. He was like a dream out of General hosptial. Slowly she got up and then walked towards him as he smiled at her politely.
“Won’t you come in?” Simone nodded dreamily and went inside. Erica dashed on in after her, much to the Doctor’s surprise. She simply patted the Doctor on the arm and said. “It’s for your safety.” The Doctor cocked his head and then followed both ladies inside.
Simone sat down opposite his desk and she set down the sample, saying in her sweetest voice. “I peed in the cup for you.” she fluttered her eyelashes and Erica gave her a nudge. Now was not the time to be flirting. The Doctor took the cup and then went to do some tests. He…had pregnancy stick testers and when Simone saw them, she exclaimed. “That is a lot easier to get a reading from then holding a cup to your twat.” The Doctor chuckled at her candor and then he confirmed what they knew to be true. She was pregnant.
“Well, Miss Jackson, I guess congratulations are in order. You are pregnant.”
Simone’s face crumpled as she heard this and the Doctor took her hand and patted it, before offering her a kleenex. She took the tissues and then blew her nose into them, as Erica then asked the next obvious question. “How far is she?” Now this was something that could only be worked out with a special scan, but the Doctor sat back and said. “When was your last period, Miss Jackson?” Simone sat there as she tried to figure that out. Erica sat forward in her seat, dying to know.
“About…three months…I think.”
Erica let out a whoop of delight. “IT’S NOT BROCK’S!”
“It’s not?” Simone asked, now wondering how that was possible. The Doctor then looked between the girls and asked.“Whose Brock?” Erica was already over the moon about this, but it still didn’t tell them who the father was. Erica leaned forward toward Simone and asked.
“Who did you sleep with three months ago?”
Simone sat there, and looked to the ceiling.
“Simone?”
“I’m thinking.”
It then dawned on Simone….who the father was.
“Oh my god….it was the lead singer of that German rock group. Uhm….Wolfgang Ritz.” Erica sat with her mouth open.“You dated that gorilla? I thought he was hairy.” Simone shrugged. “I was drunk…it was dark…I thought that was the carpet.”
Doctor Benson was now able to calculate the pregnancy. Simone was three months pregnant with a baby to a rock star who wasn’t even in the country.
“Should I get a second opinion?”
<3>
