14. Jamie
jamie
. . .
W hy do I feel so much relief from what he’s telling me? He had his first real Christmas, something I was never able to give to him and part of me wants to be petty and jealous. I want to tell him that if he had stuck around, he would’ve had many first holidays with me because I was his wife and we were a family. Yet, I’m so incredibly happy that he found someone to love him like a son because that’s all he’s ever wanted in life, to be loved. My mom tried, but he never felt at home with her. And as much as I don’t want to admit it, to hear he’s not getting married, that the beautiful woman is nothing more than his boss, relieves me. I’m happy and I shouldn’t be because what he does or who he’s with is none of my business. It stopped being my business when I asked him for a divorce even though it seems I wanted to keep his life tied to mine because I never signed or filed the damn papers.
Before I know it, his thumb is rubbing along my cheek bone and my head is leaning against his hand. “Don’t cry, Whiskey,” his voice is husky and makes me long to get lost in the sound of it, to hear him call out my name and tell me that he loves me… that he needs me and that I’ll always be his one and only. But I can’t. That ship, the one that rocked us back and forth until it capsized, has sailed and is not one that either of us should be wanting to board right now. I stand and move away from him, wiping angrily at my tears.
“Pate,” I yell to avoid the ever growing elephant in our cell. “Turn down your damn soap opera!” From behind me, Ajay chuckles.
“Shut up, woman!”
“He’s an ass,” Ajay says. “He kept the TV volume so loud the night I was here I couldn’t sleep. Not that I really wanted to, though, because each time I closed my eyes I saw my life imploding.”
Leaning against the bars, I reach behind me and grip them tightly. My hands need something to do because they’re itching to touch the man who is only a foot or so away from me.
“Tell me about California.”
Ajay sighs and leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He’s dressed in a suit and looks dashingly handsome. The only time I ever saw him dressed up was for our prom and even then, he wore a suit from my dad’s closet. For our wedding, he wore jeans. I wore shorts. I should’ve known it wouldn’t last.
“I don’t know, it’s a lot like North Carolina in a way. It’s hot but not overly humid. Too many people though. Beaches are crowded. Lots of surfers. And it’s pretty expensive.”
“And the band? Is it everything you dreamed of?”
He shrugs. “It’s tiring, rewarding, stressful and exactly where I want to be. Playing the drums is therapeutic for me. Knowing that someone is counting on me to do my part helps me get up in the morning. It gives me something to look forward to.”
“You make it sound like Nashville saved you.”
He hangs his head and is quiet for a moment. He takes a shuddering breath and looks forward. “After you lost the baby… something broke inside me. I thought that I somehow failed you because I couldn’t take the pain that you were feeling away. I was suffering in silence, trying to bury my feelings. I know the experience is different for mothers because they carry the baby, but I wanted our child so badly because it would’ve been the best parts of you and to have another you in the world would’ve only made my life better.
“Going to Nashville was a way to hide the pain, to take my anger out on a kit instead of yelling at you… to get drunk and forget about everything.”
“Did it work?”
“Not at first. I knew going there was a long shot, but I had to do something because the alternative was to quit us.”
“Which you did anyway.”
He nods. “Once I got there, I had every intention to come back to Bailey, pack up what little shit we had and hit the road. I had aspirations, and those only increased after I talked to other musicians. They told me stories about how they were making money, getting gigs right and left, how they travel with well-known solo acts. I was determined to land a gig until every place I stopped at slammed their doors in my face. I had nothing to offer these people except for an ability to play the drums, and we both know I was mediocre at best.
“I had almost given up but the thought of coming back to Bailey to face your dad with no money in my pocket was making me sick. I couldn’t provide for you, no one was hiring here, and other than being able to bang on a drum, I had no skills.
“I stopped at a bar that was just off music row and met a manager. He told me he’d give me a chance. That night you saw me, I was a week into a contract with him, and I signed it without reading it because I was so damn excited that I was finally earning some money to be able to provide for you. The fine print was clear, the band received half the gig money, divided equally. I was making a hundred or less a night, depending on who I was playing with while that bastard was taking the rest.”
“I never cared about the money, Ajay.”
He looks at me, his eyes are bloodshot, and his cheeks are wet. I do everything I can to remain where I am.
“It wasn’t all about money, Whiskey. It was about eating, sleeping. While people in the bands had homes, I slept in alleyways. I ate one meal a day just so I had enough to buy new sticks because after a week they were so beat to shit, I needed new ones. Never mind the fact that groupies would try and steal them if I took my eyes off them for a second. I couldn’t provide for myself, let alone you. That night you came to Nashville, I wanted to run home with you, but I was stuck. I owed this man three years and there wasn’t any way he was letting me out of my contract, so I did what I thought was right and told you to go back home. I didn’t expect you to hand me divorce papers.”
“You signed them without a moment’s hesitation.” His eyes meet mine and I see sadness, loss, and heartbreak. I’m not the only one who suffered even though I’ve felt that way. “Why didn’t you come back after your contract was up?”
“I hooked up with a band and started making decent money. Still wasn’t a lot because we had to pay for our shitty van and gas as we traveled from gig to gig. I did that for a couple of years until I saw a flyer for a drum contest that was happening in Malibu. It was some charity event and by then I was pretty good with the drums so when our tour ended, I hopped on the Greyhound and went out to California. That’s when I met Harrison.”
“Who’s that again?”
Ajay smiles. “He’s the drummer for 4225 West and my mentor. It was his contest that I entered, a drum battle in the blazing sun. At night, I’d bathe in the ocean and sleep under the dock. Then get up and play the drums.”
“Did you win?”
This time he looks at me and smiles widely. “Yeah, I did. Winning that competition was a life changing thing for me. It’s how I met Elle and she put me in her band. And yet somehow now I’m back here and in jail with my Whiskey girl.” He winks and my insides turn to mush.
“I’m really sorry for what my dad has done to you, Ajay. You don’t deserve it.”
“But I do. I skirted my responsibilities to you. The only excuse I have is that I was young and so in love with you that I thought you were better off without me. I lived like a vagrant for a long time and that was no life for you.”
“I could’ve worked, kept food on the table.”
“At the time I had too much pride to allow or even ask you to do that. And your father…” he pauses and gathers himself. “After we eloped, he told me I better take care of you, that you were his princess and deserved to be treated as such. He said you had dreams and that I was to make sure they came true.”
My mouth drops open as I listen to Ajay, realizing my father is likely the catalyst for him leaving me.
“And then after you lost the baby, he all but blamed me and my ‘stupid music career’ for causing you stress.”
I choke back a sob. “Your career wasn’t stupid and it’s not the reason I lost the baby, I just?—”
Ajay stands and walks to my side, pulling me into his arms. My head rests perfectly against his chest while his hand cups my head. I can feel his lips press into my hair as he tries to soothe me.
“I’m so sorry for everything, Jamie. I really, truly am. You’ll always be the last person I ever want to hurt, and you’ll always be the one woman I’ll ever love.”
I step away from him and brush the tears away. “I’m sure you’ve loved others.”
Ajay leans against the bars, his lips purse as he shakes his head. “Never.”
“You don’t have a girlfriend?”
“Not since you. I’ve gone on a few dates recently, but that’s all they are, dates.”
I don’t know if I want to believe him or not, but the old me says Ajay would never lie to me. The new me, though, is about to say something sarcastic but when I open my mouth to do so, the bailiff walks in.
“Judge Harvey is ready to make his ruling.”
“On what?” I ask as he unlocks the cell door.
“How would I know, I’m only told what to say and do around here. Now, do I need to cuff you both or will you walk to the courtroom without incident?”
I look back at Ajay and wink. “I don’t know, Ballard, what do you think?”
He laughs. “I have a tour bus waiting, it probably won’t get us far but it’s worth the try.”
“Very funny you two.” The bailiff motions for us to walk in front of him. When I feel Ajay’s hand on the lower part of my back, I automatically lean into him and even though I want to put as much distance between us as possible, I can’t.
In the courtroom, Fletcher is sitting at his table and Ajay’s lawyer is at his. I really don’t know where I’m supposed to go so I go back to sitting behind Fletcher.
When Harvey comes in, he tells us to stay seated before calling Ajay and I up to stand in front of him.
“After due diligence by our esteemed clerk, it has been determined that Ajay Ballard and Jameson Foster are indeed still married.”
“Great, I’d like to file the petition to have our divorce finalized,” I say to Harvey.
He huffs and continues speaking, “After a meeting with a lawyer in our family division, it’s also been determined that due to the circumstances surrounding your current situation, Ms. Foster, in conjunction with Mr. Ballard’s financial status, the law precludes me from granting a divorce without filing new paperwork.”
“What situation are you in?” Ajay whispers to me. I shake my head, hoping he understands that I’ll tell him later, even though I won’t.
“Your Honor, my client is prepared to file the necessary paperwork today for dissolution of marriage, however it should be noted that he will not agree to pay alimony nor spousal support due to the length that they were separated before his career started, as well as the fact that they are only currently still married due to the negligence of Ms. Foster,” Ajay’s lawyer blurts out. Ajay turns and mumbles something under his breath.
“Shark, huh?”
“He’s paid a lot to protect us.”
Harvey clears his throat and clasps his hands together. “As much as I’d love to see the both of you pay for your crimes behind bars, I feel this is going to be punishment enough: For the next ninety-days you will stay married and spend at least three days together each week. Mr. Ballard, you’re allowed to travel with your group, however, I suggest you make your schedule amenable to this sentencing. Ms. Foster, you will accept the terms of Mr. Ballard’s schedule, provided it falls in line with my sentencing, and see to it that yours does as well. You will both appear before me at the end of your sentence and at your request I will sign off on your divorce. Until then, you’re a married couple and your lawyers can figure out the rest.”
“Your Honor, you can’t demand that they spend time together,” Fletcher says.
“But I just did. It’s either this or I sentence them both for vandalism.”
“This will be fine, your Honor,” Ajay says, much to my dismay. Before I can object, Harvey adjourns court and slams his gavel down.
“What just happened?” I ask anyone who can hear me.
“Looks like you’re still my wife.”
“The fuck I am,” I say, storming out of the courtroom.