Jess was a Bitch Ch. 07

Caitlin and Travis look embarrassed. "Our pleasure," he manages after a time.

***

Jess waves as her mom walks out of her room. Jon is lost in his painting. Gloria walks over to the kids' patio, followed by the others. Jon doesn't acknowledge them. The five of them watch as his brush moves from palette to canvas, stopping at times to dip, delicately into a new color, at others the brush stabs at the paint. There's paint on his chest and face, where he's absentmindedly scratched or swapped at the stray mosquito. They look at each other, then Jess, who can only shrug. She points toward the cabana and they move in that direction, followed by Jess.

"How long has he been going at it?"

Jess looks at her dad. "Most of the afternoon. It took him a while to get started but then, bam, he was off. He stopped long enough to drink a bottle of water and pee and that was it."

"It looks like he's almost done. Is that possible? To finish a painting in a couple of days?"

Travis smiles at his wife. "It would appear so."

"Is that the three of..."

"Yes, mom. It is. The hand on the door jam in the foreground, on the left, did you see it?" Her mom nods. "That's Jon's hand. I think, anyway."

"And that's..."

"Me, yup. Sometimes it looks like I'm leaning against another door, looking back and..."

"Other times, like you're leaning against a tree," Caitlin finishes.

"It's not a very large canvas but with just a few strokes, he's capture emotion on every face."

"Contentment and sadness," James adds. "Just like the background, it depends on how you look or focus your eyes. Both are there." He shakes his head. "I know he's my son but it really is remarkable."

"He's not my son and you're right. It is remarkable," Travis interjects.

"So, how did you like the clothing optional beach?" Jess asks, scanning her parents faces. "Did you go all in or chicken out?"

"It was quite nice, actually," Gloria replies, looking at her over the top of her sunglasses and looking, though it was not her intention, like Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada. "And, by the way, I am not in the habit of chickening out, young lady."

"Good, then why don't you and I and Caitlin go over some time? Clear our heads of all this testosterone-laden air."

"And leave the three men alone? Granted, for men, they are reasonable adept but still, three of them? Alone for a day? The mind reels at the havoc that could be wrought."

"Okay, Gloria, I love you dearly but after that I don't want to hear another word about the heaving bosoms of the sea." James tries to glare at his wife but a look of regal disdain on her face brings an unbidden laugh from him.

"Heaving bosom of the sea? What are you talking about?" Jess looks confused. She shakes her head. "Never mind, I don't really care. What about it? A girl's day out?"

"Why do the girls get dibs on the clothing optional beach?" Travis inquires.

"Yes, excellent question counselor," James adds. "Why do the girls get dibs?"

"Because we thought of it first," Caitlin responds, linking arms with Jess and her mom.

"Fine, Travis you know of any classy strip joints around here?"

"Classy? No, not classy. Is Jon twenty-one?"

"No, not that I really wanted to go to a strip club. We get the next day, then."

"Fine, sweetheart." Gloria pats her husband's cheek. "If you want to have two days all to your little ole male selves, be our guests."

Jess snickers. "One day and you're a die-hard nudist, dad?"

"It's naturists, young lady. I've been one all my life."

"What are you talking about, dad? You've never been to a nude beach before."

"So?"

"So? What d' ya mean, so? How can you claim you've been a naturist all your life?"

"Every day, I go completely naked." James pauses. "Underneath my clothes." His smile fades as no one laughs. "Get it? I'm naked under my clothes?"

"Yes, dear, we get it. Come with me. If you insist upon telling jokes, I need a martini."

Caitlin turns to Jess and grabs both her hands. "I love your parents. Oh my God, they're just the best."

"Yeah? Two days ago, my dad told my mom he wanted a divorce."

"No fucking way!"

"True. They'd been talking past each other for years. Each was totally wrong about what the other was thinking and feeling. Now, seeing them like this, I realize how unhappy the house had become. I was away at college and Jon was stuck with them." She shakes her head. "I don't get it. I mean, look at them. They're fucking gaga looney tunes over each other, how did they let things get so bad?"

"The boiling frog."

The ladies turn to look at Travis.

"You know? The boiling frog? You drop a frog in hot water, it jumps out. You put it in cold water and turn the heat up slowly and it never realizes it's being boiled."

Caitlin nods. "I'll make a reminder note on my calendar to dump you in boiling water every six months or so."

"Not a bad idea," Travis concedes as he gives his wife a kiss.

"You guys sick of the water? I've barely been in."

"I'll go with you, Jess. Trav?"

Travis answers his wife by taking off at a run for the surf.

***

Jon looks at the painting, he has a dab of white, tinted with just a whiff of crimson. He cannot recall why, or where, he felt the dab of paint was needed. He stares a bit longer before dropping his brush into the mug of solvent sitting atop the table. He's finished. For better or worse, he can see nothing further to add and it's too late to subtract. He sets the easel inside, away from stray bugs, and changes into swimming trunks. When he goes outside, he sees, or thinks he sees, Jess out in the surf with Travis and Caitlin. His parents are sitting under the cabana.

"Hi."

They swivel to look over their shoulders. "Jon, taking a break?" He shakes his head. "No, mom; I'm finished." He sits down on one of the empty chairs. "I've never seen you paint so quickly. Do you want a beer?" He nods and his dad hands him a beer. He takes a drink, then holds the bottle between his knees, the nail of one thumb starts to peel back the label on the bottle. "Once I started, it just sort of, I don't know, gush out of me." He picks at the label. "I think I'll go for a swim." He sets the bottle down on the table and heads towards the water.

James and Gloria look at each other, at a loss over what, if anything, they can do to help.

***

"Hey, look who's decided to join us?" Travis nods his head and the ladies turn just in time to see Jon dive into a wave. He comes up on their side of the breaking surf, pushing his long hair back out of his face.

"How ya doin' there, Jon?" Caitlin asks, splashing his chest lightly with water.

"Good, I think." He shakes his head. "Kinda beat, to tell the truth."

"Did you finish the painting?" He answers Jess' question with a simple nod of his head.

"I can't wait to see it. I was stunned, honestly, stunned when I saw it earlier," Travis says as he squats down so that the water is over his shoulders.

"Would you consider selling it?" Jon looks at Caitlin as if he didn't understand her question.

"Sell it? I hadn't thought about it. If you like you - I suppose you can just have it."

"No wonder artists are always starving," Caitlin scoffs. "Don't you know anything about business?" Jon shakes his head. "Well, if you keep cranking out stuff like what I saw, you'd better learn something about business. When we get home..." she stops, mid-sentence. "Where the fuck do you live anyway?"

"Dallas," Jess giggles.

"I don't know any dealers in Dallas. I'll check with a guy I like in Chicago, maybe he knows someone. Or, if you're willing, let me take it with me to Chicago, so I can show it to him. I'd be surprised if he doesn't ask for more of your stuff."

"I don't have any more. That's it. I have other paintings at home but they're total shit."

"No, they..." Jess pauses. "They're not as good as this one but they are not shit. Besides, you have the drawing of mom and me. Plus, those crazy little sketches you did to get me out of the bathroom are pretty remarkable."

"Would you let me see those as well?"

Jon shrugs his shoulders. "You'll have to ask Jess, Caitlin. They're hers. I gave them to her."

"They're pretty erotic," Jess whispers, blushing.

"Oh my God, you are so cute sometimes," Caitlin mutters, grabbing Jess' arm. "We've had sex together. Seriously, if you'd rather not, that's fine. I would like to show my friend more than one. Maybe the one of you and your mom?"

"You can see the others as well. I'm not sure anyone would want to buy them. They're..."

"Erotic? Yeah, I heard." Caitlin says, cutting her off. "You'd be surprised at the market for erotic art that's not just smut."

"Jon?"

He turns to look at Travis, legs still bent, only his head above the water. "Would you paint a portrait of Caitlin and me?"

Jon's face shuffles between surprise and panic. "I've never done a portrait. I don't know if I can."

"Dude, I'm not asking for a formal sitting or anything. Think about it. If you want you can try posing us, or just hang out watching. If lightning strikes, like it did the other day, great. If not, well we had the pleasure of your company. I'll pay you of course."

"Uh, I guess, let me think about it." Jon runs his hands through his hair.

"Hey! You shaved your pits!" Caitlin exclaims.

"He shaved everything, well, I shaved it for him," Jess twitters.

"Like father, like son, huh?"

Jess turns to look at Travis. "What do you mean?"

"Just that, you know, your dad is shaved too."

"Oh my God!" Jess' hands go to her mouth. "They weren't joking? He didn't? Oh my God."

"I'm starving. Anyone else hungry?" Without waiting for an answer, Jon body surfs to the shore.

***

"We've taken up too much of your time already. Thanks for the invitation but I think we'll head back to our place, order room service, and take a long soak in the hot tub. We had a blast today. Thanks for including us. I'm sure we'll see you around tomorrow." Caitlin nods her agreement. She gives all four of the Vandermachs a kiss on the cheek, then walks away, hand in hand with her husband.

"Hey, Caitlin!" Jess hollers. Her mouth frowns; she is not a fan of hollering. "Come by tomorrow and I'll show you those other drawings!"

Caitlin settles for a wave and continues toward their suite.

"May we see your painting, Jon?"

"Uh, sure, mom, I guess. It's probably not dry yet. You can't touch it."

She nods. Jon picks up his towel and trudges toward his room. They rinse their feet at the foot wash in front of the patio and follow Jon into the room. "I'm sorry if the subject matter disturbs you. Honest."

James shakes his head. "I'm so blown away by it, I quite frankly forgot it involves you and Jess. Is that your hand? Did you paint yourself looking in on the scene?"

Jon nods.

The way Caitlin had been lying with her head in Travis' lap you can't see his dick. From their observations today, it is clear Jon has captured Caitlin's figure. Their faces are not quite their own, but the faces serve only to convey emotion. Likewise, Jess is not recognizable as Jess, in so far as the face is concerned, but her body is. It's the body of a beautiful young woman. The expression is hard to pin down, defiant, reckless, sad, satisfied, all at the same time.

James blushes and turns away when he realizes what he's gazing at is his daughter's naked body.

"Don't," Jess whispers. "It's just me, without clothes. Were you embarrassed to see Caitlin naked today?"

"As a matter of fact, I was," her father answers. "That's different, Jess and you know it."

"Is it? I suppose but as long as you aren't looking at it, at me, in a sexual way, I'm not bothered by it. If it bothers you, that's a different deal."

"Well, I'm not looking at it...why am I saying 'it'?" Gloria asks herself. "I'm not looking at you in a sexual manner and it makes me uncomfortable as well." Gloria's eyes continue to rove over the painting. "It's very, very, good Jon. But it's awkward looking at something that was inspired by something sexual. Look how you two reacted when I mentioned something your father and I had done long before you two were even a gleam in our eyes. If you don't want to hear, or imagine, what your father and I do together, how can you expect us not to feel uncomfortable when the shoe is on the other foot?"

"I don't." Jon takes the sting out of the words by offering his sister a smile. It's the first smile she's seen since he joined them.

"Fair point, mom but as I recall you thought it was silly that I was uncomfortable hearing about that," Jess retorts.

"I wouldn't say that. I was mostly irritated that you acted like you couldn't imagine that we might share the same passions you do. How would you have reacted if I pulled out some Polaroids of your father and I having sex?"

"Oh, be real, mother. This," Jess gestures at the painting. "This is not porn. It's.."

"Are you saying pictures of your father and I, not that they exist, would be porn?" Gloria's voice has a hint of its old edge to it.

"Stop it!" Jon snaps. "There was something about the scene that struck me, so I painted it. Yes, it was in the aftermath of sex, but I don't think it is intrinsically about sex. Yes, I understand knowing what inspired it makes you uneasy. Yes, Jess, I understand, so does dad; there's a difference between ogling and looking. We all agree, on all those points, so can we just fucking drop it and go eat? I'm hungry."

"Supper it is, then. Half an hour enough time to get ready? I heard about a great place just down the road. Fresh seafood."

The kids nod at that father.

"Alright, I'll be knocking on the door at exactly," he looks at his watch. "7:36, on the dot. Got it? Good."

Jon, because of his long hair, takes longer than Jess to get ready but they're dressed and hovering by the door. Jess keeps her eye to the spy hole. Before her dad can knock she jerks the door open.

"Ha, ha," James drawls, which does nothing to diminish Jess' smile.

Supper is better than they could have hoped. Red snapper, rice, beans, tortillas, and plenty of beer.

They take their time. Jon pulls out of his funk or seems to. He's quiet on the ride back to the resort. They say their good nights and close the door behind them.

***

"What's wrong?"

They've brushed their teeth. Jess climbed into bed naked. Jon had left his boxers on. Jess is lying with her head on his chest, trailing her fingers over the smooth skin of his body.

"Nothing. I'm just tired," Jon replied.

"Why don't I believe you?"

"Beats me. It's the truth."

"The whole truth and nothing but the truth so help you God?"

"You don't have a Bible."

"Do I need one for you to tell me the truth?" Jess asks softly.

"Oh, for fuck sake, Jess. What do you want? I'm tired. That's all." He rolls away, back to her.

"Okay, Jon. Sorry, baby. Get some sleep." She leans over him and kisses his cheek. "I love you." He's quiet. A minute passes. Jess tries not to read too much into his silence. She tells herself it's fine; he's just tired. The choked sob that escapes her tightening chest, surprises her. She starts to roll away, one hand covering her mouth.

He spins like a top, reaching out for her, pulling her close before she can roll away from him, or worse out of bed.

"I'm sorry. Don't cry. I don't know why I'm being a dick. I'm sorry." He lets go of her and rolls onto his back. He hits himself in the forehead with both hands, over and over. "All I do is make you cry. Fuck me. Goddamn fuck me."

Jess snuffles back her tears and grabs for his wrists. "Stop it! Jesus!"

He jerks his hands away from her and pulls back his head and face red. "Why? What the fuck do you care? You love me? Bullfuckingshit! You're the one walking away, soon as we get home, fuck you, Jon. Bye, back to college and fucking whoever the fuck you feel like. You don't..."

Her eyes grow larger and larger, then narrow. Her cheeks are pale, except for two small circles of bright red, high on her cheek bones. She smacks him in the chest, hard, then across his right cheek.

"Fuck you, Jon! Fuck you." She continues to flail at his chest and face. "'Oh, Jess, I don't want to turn you into a freak'. 'Oh, Jess, I don't want to be the reason people laugh at you'." Her voice is high, mincing, mocking. "Who the fuck was that? You! So, don't lie there whining like a little bitch because almost no one will accept this and you fucking know it, asshole. You said it yourself. Do not fucking pull this 'you're leaving me shit' on me again. Ever. Fuck you. For the last fucking time, this is not my fault. Unless you have a solution or an idea or something more helpful than pouting, please just shut the fuck up."

When she rolls away this time, Jon does not try to stop her. She moves to the other bed and shoves the scattered clothes that adorn it off onto the floor and climbs in. She's quiet for a time, then starts punching one of the pillows. Jon watches her bury her face in the pillow and scream. When she stops, she leaves the pillow over her face.

His right eye waters; she clipped him a good one. He touches his tongue to his lower lip. He thinks he tastes blood and assumes she managed to give him a fat lip as well. Not, he decides, that he didn't deserve it. He pushes the sheet back and rolls out of bed. When Jess feels him kneel on the side of her bed, she jerks the pillow away from her face and tosses it aside

"Get the fuck away from me!"

He sinks to his knees beside the bed. He takes hold of the hand closest to him and doesn't let her pull it free. He rests his forehead on the back of her hand. "Everything you said, is true. I am a whiny little bitch. I'm so scared. I don't know what to do or what to say. I am blaming you and that is fucking bullshit. I, I, I just...I..."

Her free hand is in the air, fist clenched. Her intent had been to punch him in the head until he let go of her hand. The fist unclenches; her hand drops to rest on the back of his head.

They don't move for a very long time.

Jon rises and turns toward the other bed.

She reaches out and grabs his little finger. When he turns, she holds the sheet up and moves over.

"Would it be okay if you took your underwear off? I like as much of your skin against mine as possible.": Her voice is soft.

He eases his boxers over his hips and lets them fall to the floor.

She opens her arms and he goes to her.

"In your painting, am I coming to you or leaving?" she whispers. "I couldn't tell."

"I don't know," he answers softly.

Jess nods but he can't see her.

***

After month, years actually, James had been enjoying falling asleep with his arms wrapped around his wife. He was surprised when she pulled away.

"Anything wrong, darling?"

She patted his cheek. "No, James, nothing is wrong. Everything is almost frighteningly right. My shoulder is a bit sore, that's all."

Later, in the small hours of the morning, he doesn't wake when Gloria got up and rummages in the bathroom for some Advil.