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Cindy McCabe, Monday February 9, 2015

Janine Jordan, ‘JJ’ to her friends, watched the pretty mid-twenties dark-haired woman from across the truck-stop restaurant. There was something familiar about her. She’d noticed her as soon as she came in, tall and too thin, dressed in perfectly fitted jeans, blue sweater, expensive western boots and jean jacket, her hair pulled back in a ponytail that reached almost halfway down her back. She wasn’t a local – Janine knew them all – probably just a solo traveler passing through an anonymous truck stop in Lodi. She had a pleasant but fleeting smile when she ordered, but it looked like she was holding back tears. Now she was picking at her veggie omelet and dabbing her eyes with a wad of tissues as she concentrated on what looked like a letter she had in front of her on the Formica-topped table in front of her.

“Hi Hon, refill?” Janine held up the glass carafe full of steaming coffee. “Fresh made.”

The woman looked at her as if she was returning from somewhere far away. She looked down at her cup and seemed surprised to see it was empty. “Okay.”

Janine poured the coffee, wondering what could be bothering the woman. From the look of her it wasn’t poverty. She smiled to herself as she thought, ‘probably a man.’

She was a bit startled when the woman asked her in a tear-constricted voice, “Can you tell me how far it is to Three Corners Farm?”

“Sure, Hon ... just turn left out of the parking lot onto the feeder road and then immediate left on the first road then straight a little over a mile. There’s a gravel driveway on the left ... you’ll see the sign.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Curiosity got the better of her. “Guess that means you must know Jessica ... Jessica Brandt.” She went on without finding out if the woman knew Jessica or not. “She’s the kindest person I know, always doing something for other people, and not wanting to take credit for it. Some people don’t like her because she’s beautiful and drives that silver BMW of hers, and has money ... but they’re just jealous. She’s as sweet as ever.

A trucker a couple of booths over caught her eye and raised his cup for a refill.

Janine put the check on the table, “Just take your time, no rush. You pay me when you’re ready. Can I get you anything else?”

The dark-haired woman just shook her head.

“Well just let me know, okay?”

She got a nod in return as the woman dabbed at her eyes.

Cindy McCabe sat in a red vinyl-covered booth near the back of the truck stop, losing her battle to keep tears at bay, and watched the cute chatty red-haired waitress walk away. She tried to not let her concerns about the reception that she may receive from Harrison upset her, but they did. Harrison was an amazing and loving man, her first love, and truth be told, her only love, but Cindy had no hold on him – she’d divorced him, but has he moved on and found a new love and happiness?

She looked at the big clock over the door to the outside and saw it was time to go to Three Corners Farm and face Harrison and Jenny and Natalie. She’d put it off for too long – over a year since she’d seen them, almost nine months since she had communicated with them in any way, except for divorce papers, until her call to Harrison on Saturday.

Harrison had not seemed pleased to hear from her – and why should he? She’d abandoned them all while she chased a stupid dream that she could be a country star, and where had that led? She was now the former Mrs. Cindy Willetts, the former Mrs. Cindy McCabe-Adkins, the former lead singer of a former band called Front Range, the former most popular girl at Big Sky High who landed the former high school quarterback, former cheerleader, former wife of a wounded Army National Guard hero, former friend of Natalie Willetts, former daughter-in-law of Sam and Ellie Willetts, former ranch wife ... former ... former ... former ... it was if at twenty-six she was trying to break some shameful record for having the most listings of ‘former.’

The only question that really haunted her was if she was the former mother of Jenny Willetts. She knew she would always be Jenny’s biological mother, but she also knew that any woman could be the biological mother of a child. It took more than simple biology to be a mother. Cindy had so far failed in probably every sense of the word. She didn’t know if she could bear it if Jenny would no longer see her as her mother, although if true, she had no one to blame but herself.

And what of Natalie? They had been friends for a long time and then sisters-in-law. Cindy knew of Natalie’s fierce loyalty to Harrison and Jenny and feared that Natalie subscribed to Mister Darcy’s declaration in ‘Pride and Prejudice, ‘ “My good opinion once lost, is gone forever.” Certainly Cindy had done everything to destroy Natalie’s good opinion.

During the time she was touring with the band she had been mostly in the company of men, so there were no female friends to be had. Of course there were women, but mostly they were groupies – groupies to be taken advantage of by the men in the band, especially her drug-addled husband and lead guitarist, Jayson Adkins. She missed Natalie, but she had betrayed her friendship.

Could she ever be friends with Harrison again? Due to Jayson’s immaturity, drug use and serial infidelity, her marriage had started to disintegrate almost immediately after their brief ceremony in Reno. Was that only seven months ago? During those troubled times she had fantasized about returning to the ranch and seeing Harrison and running to him and begging forgiveness, and Harrison smiling one of his special smiles, telling her everything was going to be alright. But that was fantasy. Now that she was single again was there any chance? Probably not, Harrison was a forgiving man, but he would not forget. Could she ever win his trust and love again?

He had answered her call on Saturday and had agreed to meet with her at their Lodi home, and have Jenny waiting, because that’s what he’d promised in his letter. After she hung up, she wondered if he regretted leaving that letter for her at the ranch.

Cindy had started off three years ago with the best of intentions, but like the saying, ‘the road to hell is paved with good intentions, ‘ it had all gone to hell. She had a great singing voice and loved the adulation of crowds and put together a group called ‘Front Range.’ Her reasoning was that she would make some extra money and give her something to do while Harrison was in Afghanistan. It was made up of local boys who had some talent, but one night while they were playing at the local Elks Hall in walked tall handsome Jayson Adkins. He was from Bozeman and visiting relatives in Missoula. He had a voice that complemented Cindy’s and was amazing on lead guitar.

The fact that he was only thirty and already assembled a resume that included gigs with some top notch groups, made it easy for her and the other members of the group to convince themselves he was the right guy at the right time to lead them to the breakthrough into the top ranks of country groups. Her adolescent dreams had always been about fame and all that went with it. She would no longer have to be just some ranch wife from Missoula. Unfortunately Cindy did not ask about his short-lived connections with those other groups. She rationalized that musicians often had artistic differences where they just couldn’t get along.

Even with little Jenny and Natalie who spent a lot of time with her, Cindy was lonely with Harrison gone so it was easy to develop a crush on Jayson, and he was so understanding of her loneliness, and would listen to her and be a shoulder to cry on. Of course he’d done it all before. Later she discovered Jayson Adkins was an experienced womanizer who used women and discarded them like tissues. He was also a spoiled rich kid who had never been forced to grow up by a mother who doted on him. She apparently forgave any and all transgressions and paid off or bullied those who might somehow discourage the behavior of a petulant two year old in a man’s body. Jayson also had a monthly allowance from his mother in Scottsdale which he spent without thought and if he ran out, which was often, or wanted to buy a new Corvette because he’d totaled or got tired of his old one, then the money was always forthcoming.

He was one of those high-energy talented musicians who needed very little rehearsal time. While on stage, he was a wonder and audiences loved him. Cindy and the others in the group were grateful that he fronted the money to buy a couple of vans for their travel. He also was well connected enough he could get bookings at several places that needed bands, all of them conveniently out of town. For about a year Cindy was gone most weekends and she did make some money, but that was secondary to the thrill of appearing before crowds which got larger as their venues moved from local bars, to county fairs and rodeos. The looming disaster of her personal life was inconsequential when compared to the rush she felt when she heard the applause of her fans. Her performances soon moved from just singing well-known county songs, to a mix which included her own compositions. Her ego swelled with the size of the crowds.

Then the worst thing happened – Harrison came home and he was hurt.

Sitting in the truck stop café she just shook her head remembering how she resented the fact he had disrupted her new life as an up and coming celebrity. Cindy also had a hard time dealing with the new ‘old’ Harrison. He was much more serious, and to her he’d lost his sense of fun. Of course the community rallied around Harrison and the expectation was that Cindy would be the dutiful wife and stay home and tend to the local wounded war hero.

She hated that, and of course, Jayson was the one she turned to. Cindy had a hard time coping with the fact that Harrison was no longer the healthy star athlete she married. He spent hours in rehab while his shattered leg healed. Everyone told her how brave he was and she just wanted to scream at them that it was unfair to her. All this time of course Natalie was there by his side, helping and comforting him while still trying to understand the puzzling new dynamic in her brother’s marriage – an unhappy Cindy.

Eventually, Harrison got better, but then Sam Willetts died and Cindy felt trapped. She never wanted to be a ranch wife, but all of a sudden she and Harrison were saddled with a failing ranch and Harrison didn’t have the money or the stamina to keep it running. At that point Cindy convinced him that she could earn extra money with the band and the infusion of cash would help keep things going – but that meant going on the road. While the financial situation was not yet desperate, Harrison saw how excited she so he reluctantly acquiesced. Cindy didn’t know, actually didn’t care, if Harrison suspected her growing emotional attachment to Jayson.

The physical attachment didn’t start until one night after a performance before a large and enthusiastic crowd at the fairgrounds in Butte. They were congratulating themselves on how great the performance was and everyone was drinking to celebrate. The next morning Cindy woke up in Jayson’s bed at the hotel. She was so ashamed and guilt–ridden she didn’t know what to do and she vowed that it would never happen again. She had betrayed Harrison!

Jayson bided his time, pretending to understand, and also vowed that it would never happen again, but he never stopped with the subtle and not so subtle put-downs which eroded Cindy’s respect for Harrison, and in in many ways eroded the moral compass that had kept her from being unfaithful in the past. He also played on her narcissism. Cindy loved the crowds and the excitement they brought her. She was addicted to the applause and adulation and had begun to think of herself as a star in the making. Jayson made it clear the only way to continue was to rid herself of connections to the past. A couple of weeks later it happened again, except this time Cindy was sober. She had convinced herself that even though she didn’t love Jayson, he was her ticket from being a ranch wife to the world of celebrity. The fact he was rich and lavished money on her helped too.

On the road he started buying her trinkets that made her laugh, and pretty soon it was clothing ‘to wear on stage’ and then more intimate apparel. At first she sent home some of the promised money, but as she separated herself mentally from her family the selfish narcissistic part of her took over. She rationalized that she needed the money for herself – after all Harrison couldn’t expect her to do without essentials while on the road. She also took over as the de facto manager of the group.

On a trip through Reno she was able to get them a six-month contract to perform at a club in a well-known casino. The money and six-performances-a-week exposure had Cindy believing everything Jayson had promised. Cindy had become a fixture in Jayson’s bed by then, and without guilt or shame she divorced Harrison. Cindy was relieved at how quickly he signed and returned the divorce papers. She should have been shocked, but she was so caught up in her own world that the thought never occurred to her that somehow Harrison had known what was going on. Cindy had made no secret of her affair with Jayson and it had become obvious to the other members of the band almost from the first. And anyone who saw them perform duets would believe they were either lovers or the best actors around.

So the night the divorce was final and after the last show, she and Jayson had been drinking and somehow ended up before a justice of the peace and were married. That was a decision she came to regret almost immediately, because the fact he was married had no effect on his philandering or alcohol and drug use. She should have known better, but was so wrapped up in her life that she never really gave it any thought.

Quickly, Cindy realized that she’d exchanged her husband, daughter and best friend for a man who only saw her as a means to promote his own agenda to consume as much sex and booze and drugs as possible. All the success of their popular band was the means to that end. She also knew she was equally at fault since she saw Jayson as her ticket to success and of course being married to a man who was rich and a profligate spender helped soothe her conscience. As a wedding present he paid cash for a fully loaded Dodge Ram quad cab truck in an amazing blue pearl paint, which cost close to fifty thousand dollars. She was smart enough to ensure only her name was on the title, and he was never allowed to drive it. She picked a truck since she had grown up around trucks and she knew that they were not really his style.

During the months in Reno, other than at rehearsals and performances, she rarely saw him, which was increasingly fine with her. Someone let it slip one night that he was living with a blonde bimbo groupie who was determined to be the next Mrs. Adkins.

It all came to a head one night in early December as they were finishing up their first set at the casino. Jayson had become increasingly erratic in his playing and no longer bothered with rehearsals. That night he was obviously drunk and probably jacked up on cocaine, which had become his favorite recreational drug since coming to Reno where it was readily available.

The crowd was clapping and yelling for an encore, when Jayson put his guitar on the stand behind him and started to walk off the stage. That was a first. They always did an encore or two - the crowd loved it and the management did too. Cindy caught up to Jayson at the edge of the stage and put her hand on his elbow to get his attention. Without warning he swung on her. Fortunately he was a bit off balance so his fist didn’t connect with enough force to break her jaw; but it did connect with the side of her face and knocked her to the wooden stage. She hit her head hard when she landed. Cindy was stunned as he stood over her with balled fists and screamed at her that he was tired of ‘all this shit, ‘ and especially her telling him what to do.

The other band members reached him as he got ready to kick her and a melee ensued. Blows were exchanged and instruments were destroyed as the fight continued. Jayson was strong and as high as he was it was hard to stop him. Unfortunately casino security was too far away to be able to make it through the crowd to do anything quickly. Cindy just curled in a ball and tried to stay out of the way. A couple of spectators pulled her off the stage and helped her to safety at the edge of the crowd. The police finally showed up and eventually Jayson was subdued with a Taser and pepper spray, but not before he’d assaulted some of the responding officers.

Cindy remembered little of the aftermath of the fight or the ride to the hospital in the ambulance. She became more aware once she arrived at the emergency room at Saint Mary’s Regional Medical Center about an hour later. While she’d never lost conscious, she now knew what they meant by ‘having your bell rung.’

She was kept overnight for observation. Late in the afternoon she lay in her hospital bed feeling unsettled when two men in expensive suits arrived. Cindy was holding an ice bag to the side of her face, which covered the giant bruise caused by Jayson’s punch. She also had a killer headache, and as a result of all of the above she was feeling very much out of it – or as Natalie used to say, ‘out of sync with the space-time continuum.’

The men were too well-dressed to be police and she’d already given one statement in the ER. Furthermore, one of the nurses had told her the entire affray had been recorded on numerous cell phones in addition to the Casino’s security cameras, so she thought any further police questioning seemed superfluous.

“Ms. McCabe?” asked the taller and older of the two.

She looked at him with the one eye that wasn’t obscured by the ice bag. “I’m Cindy McCabe.”

He turned and the other man handed him some documents from the slim leather briefcase he carried. “I’m Melvin Jones and this is my colleague Thomas Harris. We are with the law firm of Tipton, Marks, Journey and Call of Phoenix Arizona and represent Mister Jayson Adkins.”

Before he could go on she calmly remarked, “Mommy must have had a shit fit when she heard her precious Jayson was in the slammer charged with assault on police officers, to get you guys up here this fast.”

Harris got a pained look, but it was fleeting.

Ignoring her comments Jones continued, “As I was saying, we represent Mister Adkins in both the criminal matter and in the civil matter of his divorce from you.”

“Divorce? Oh that’s rich. I’d laugh but it hurts my face too much. Your client knocks me down in front of a couple hundred people and security cameras and he’s divorcing me? On what grounds?”

“As you know Ms. McCabe, Nevada is a no fault state so...”

“I know what that means. So get on with it. Don’t law firms just get some process server to deliver the papers? Seems like a waste of your time to fly up here.”

Jones stared at her for a few moments and she matched his stare. She had a headache and a bruised face, and certainly wasn’t going to let these guys intimidate her. Her experience as the band’s manager allowed her to gather her wits and prepare for battle.

“Ms. McCabe, Mister Adkins is prepared to offer you a reasonable settlement for your cooperation in this matter.”

“Oh, guess that means Mommy wants to clean house all at once. Jayson, in one of his less lucid moments, let it slip one time that Mommy wasn’t happy with our marriage. No wonder we were never introduced.”

Jones patiently stared at her, waiting for her to run down.

“So what kind of ‘cooperation’ are we talking about?”

“First, you will agree not to testify against Mister Adkins in any civil or criminal proceedings.”

“I thought a wife couldn’t testify against her husband ... Oh right, I get it ... unless the wife is the victim.”

“That’s correct.”

“And?”

“And second, you will agree to the divorce and sign the property settlement agreement, which I think you will find most generous.” With that Harris handed Jones a check which he then handed to Cindy. She noticed it was a cashier’s check made out to her for one hundred thousand dollars.

“What about my hospital bills?”

“Those have already been paid.”

Cindy looked at both of them for a few moments. Jones would be a great poker player, but Harris was nervous. He should have kept his hands out of sight. In the months in Reno she’d become acquainted with enough poker players to know that the hands were the best ‘tell.’ Harris’ ‘tell’ was that he was silently drumming the fingers of his right hand on the slim briefcase he carried by his side.

She put down the ice bag so they could see the bruising. Jones had no reaction, Harris drummed faster. “Okay gentlemen, here are my conditions for cooperation: I’ve written a number of songs that have been performed by Mister Adkins and Front Range. Mister Adkins will give up any claim against any of the songs or music I have written, sold, recorded or performed, and any claim to future songs or music I will write, sell, record or perform. Agreed?”

Jones simply nodded. Harris’s fingers slowed their drumming.

“Secondly, Mister Adkins will give up any claim to the Ram truck he gave me as a wedding present.”

Jones nodded again. Harris had stopped the drumming completely.

“Third, your client will never contact me again by any means, especially in person.”

Jones agreed. “Once we have bail arranged, Mister Adkins will enter a resident six-month drug and alcohol rehabilitation program at a clinic in Scottsdale.”

“I take it that means I won’t have to get a protective order then.”

“We intend to assure the judge that Mister Adkins will be in residence for six months.”

“Okay. But I better not hear from him or see him. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“And what if I do?”

“Do?”

“Hear from him. He clocked me once and I take it this ‘clinic’ in Scottsdale isn’t a maximum security facility ... so what if he leaves and comes looking?”

“I can assure you, Mister Adkins has no further interest in contacting you.”

“I’m so relieved, but I think I’ll get that protective order all the same, unless...”

Jones didn’t respond and waited.

“Unless you’re willing to put money on your claim he doesn’t want to contact me ... say fifty thousand for any personal contact at all ... If he calls or texts he gets a pass, even though I won’t like it. Those are easy enough to ignore or delete.”

Jones expression never changed. “Very well.”

“In writing as part of the agreement.”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“Then Ms. McCabe I think that concludes our business...” Harris had stopped his drumming.

“Not by a long shot Mr. Jones. This check for one hundred thousand dollars is hardly sufficient compensation for the pain and suffering caused to me by your client. I expect a sympathetic judge or jury would award considerably more.”

Harris started drumming again. Jones showed no emotion. Cindy wanted to smile. They hadn’t been expecting that from her but were prepared for it anyway. “But since I see you’re willing to pay cash now, I consider two hundred fifty thousand as fair compensation.” She paused to see if there was any reaction from Jones. There was none.

“And finally.” By now Harris could have been playing a Keith Moon solo. “Five hundred thousand as property settlement...” Cindy played her next card which was nothing more than a guess backed up by a bluff. “Nevada is a community property state and I expect little Jayson’s trust fund has been spinning off a great deal of income during the time we’ve been married. You want me, and any further action to go away, well those are my conditions.”

Jones looked at her for a few seconds probably assessing how much she knew and how much she would take.

“Ms. McCabe I will agree to all your conditions, save the last one. I am prepared to offer two hundred-fifty thousand as settlement for your injuries and an equal amount for the property settlement.” Harris was drumming away so that meant they might be willing to up the ante, but she was done with this game. She looked at Jones for a few moments to see if she could get him to even flinch, but to no avail.

“Okay. You have a deal.” The drum solo stopped. She wondered how much was in the trust fund after all.

Jones moved the hospital tray table over to her and handed her an expensive-looking lacquered pen and had her sign the divorce documents. He then made several handwritten changes to the property settlement agreement, incorporating her conditions.

Jones turned to Harris and held out his hand. Harris rummaged through the briefcase for a few seconds and produced a second cashier’s check already made out to Cindy McCabe for four hundred thousand dollars. When he handed it to her there was a momentary twinkle in his eye. Cindy wanted to laugh wondering how many checks made out to her were in the briefcase and for what amounts.

She looked over the changes to the agreement, initialed them and then signed the document which was notarized by Harris. She was a little surprised to see he was also a Nevada notary.

Holding the two checks she said, “Thank you Mister Jones.”

He nodded. “It was a pleasure doing business with you Ms. McCabe.” He actually looked like he meant it. “I’ll have those changes typed into new documents for the judge. Will it be convenient if Mister Harris calls on you later today at your apartment to have you sign the revised documents?”

“That will be fine.”

With only a nod from Jones, they departed. Cindy smiled even though it made her face hurt as she looked at the checks. “I made you pay, you bastard,” she said softly. Then she frowned. A half million dollars, was it worth it? She’d given up her friends and family and broken her vows and how long would the money last? Even without having to pay taxes on it there wasn’t enough to retire. She’d have to find a job. Was she poison in Reno now because of the negative publicity that went with the near-riot that caused the breakup of Front Range? She’d soon find out. But did she really care? First she needed to make a trip.

Giving herself time to heal, so she wouldn’t look like a horror show, it was two weeks before she headed north in her new truck to the ranch. She knew there would be little chance she could be reconciled with Harrison, but at least she could see Jenny. She would also give Harrison whatever money was needed to get the ranch out of debt. Perhaps that would be a start, and maybe someday he could forgive her. The thirteen hour trip turned into a twenty-hour slog over two days through mid-December snow and freezing rain. She was happy she’d opted for the four wheel drive truck.

She didn’t have Harrison’s cell phone number because her phone had been stolen months before, and with it she lost her entire phone contact list. Not that it made much difference, she mused. Nobody in Missoula was likely to speak to her again anyway, and even her parents were gone. Her father had died when she was in high school and two years ago her mother had remarried and moved to Florida. Neither she nor her mother had done a very good job at keeping in touch.

Cindy was puzzled though because the number for the ranch listed on line was disconnected.

Regardless, she pressed on, just wanting to be at the ranch and see Jenny and Harrison and Natalie again, fearing their rejection, but she’d be willing to settle for even just a couple of minutes. Through much of the trip her driving was hampered by the fog of tears. What a disaster she’d made of her quest for fame. Well at least she had some money now and it would be more than enough to get the ranch on a solid footing. Maybe she could get a little house near Missoula where she could take Jenny for overnighters, and where she could have some quiet to write her songs.

The light filtering through the heavy snow was fading as she drove up the long drive to the ranch. Cindy was relieved to see lights on inside, but was surprised to see Christmas lights on the outside. That must be a sign that Harrison had recovered enough to be able to hang them along the roofline. Her insides ached with tension. She had imagined every kind of reception except the one she wanted. In her travels she had picked up a couple of presents for Jenny. Their cheerful wrappings and bright bows belied her mood of nervous anticipation and grim determination.

There was a newer Ford truck outside the house. It had been driven recently since it wasn’t buried in the snow that swirled in the near white-out conditions. Whose truck was that? Had there been a change in fortunes that allowed Harrison to buy a new truck, or had the old one just died forcing another expense he could hardly afford? Well she would make it right. She would make Harrison accept a check from her. Surely his pride wouldn’t get in the way of settling their debts so they could continue to live on the family ranch.

The wind tore at her heavy parka as she approached the door, her stomach in knots. It was opened by a surprised-looking middle-aged woman dressed in tan Carhartt bib overalls and a checked flannel shirt. She was tall and thin and her gray hair was pulled back in a short pony tail. She had the careworn look of someone who’d spent a lot of time doing hard outside work at jobs that didn’t pay all that well.