What You Don't Know, page 22
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Gwen Majors: You know, I never told anybody this, but one time, after a show in St. Louis, it was late and Bridget was supposed to be packing up all of Blair’s costumes and makeup and everything before we rolled on to the next gig. We were doing an interview with some magazine and it was over, and everyone was just kind of hanging out. I had to run to our dressing room for something—depending on the venue, the three of us would share a room.
* * *
Anyway, the door was kind of open and through the crack, I could see Bridget wearing one of Blair’s stage outfits and she’s in the mirror with a hairbrush and she’s pretending like she’s being interviewed by the reporter. She’s pretending like she’s Blair. It was super creepy. I didn’t say anything, just kind of backed away from the door. I felt bad for Blair because I’m sure she had no idea.
* * *
Jenny Valentine: The room service thing was pretty much the last straw. Management told Blair Bridget had to go. And then she was gone. Even though she never said it, I think Blair was relieved.
* * *
Gwen Majors: (Counts off on her fingers) School for cosmetology, fashion design, cooking, interior design, hospitality courses. She was either always in school for something, or getting fired from a job. Always.
* * *
Isabelle Ryan: Relationships were another disaster for Bridget. She ricocheted from failed relationship to failed relationship. A few short-lived marriages. Convicts, drug dealers, bums. If there was a bad relationship to be had, Bridget had it.
* * *
Skye Stafford: Blair always tried to bring Bridget along, always tried to help her, but Bridget was one of those people who it never worked out for.
* * *
Elena York: It was pretty clear that Bridget wanted to be Blair. She wanted her sister’s life.
6:45 p.m.
Malcolm’s head hung heavy toward his chest. His temples pounded with each inhale.
A whoop of laughter burst from Tree and Dio as they watched a movie—a supposed comedy—startling Malcolm, momentarily slicing through his haze. Cookie lay at the far end of the couch, dozing, drool hanging from the corner of her mouth. Tree took a healthy swig of wine from one of the four bottles he’d pilfered from the wine room, then passed it to Dio.
Sunday had been a virtual repeat of Saturday, sans any escape attempts or violent outbursts. A day of waiting. A long, excruciating day of waiting.
There’d been no unexpected visitors. Tree had kept Malcolm’s phone turned off. Blair and Farrah’s phones, smashed to pieces. Which meant no texts, no calls. No more threats. No more beatings.
No more rapes.
The kitchen remained a disaster area and they’d all been tied up again and stashed down in the basement. Blair and Farrah had promptly nodded off, falling into each other. Tree and Dio lit up, polishing off the last of Malcolm’s stash before they both fell prey to the Sunday afternoon malaise a few hours later, their tumultuous snores like buzz saws. Cookie and Malcolm eyed each other with the by-now practiced suspicion of neither trusting the other not to do anything foolish. Tree had woken up, hungry and demanding, forcing Blair and Farrah yet again to whip up more pizzas, burgers, fries, and whatever other garbage they’d bought at the store yesterday. Blair and Farrah had each managed a few spoonfuls of yogurt, leaving the cartons mostly full. Malcolm had choked down the cup of coffee Blair had handed him that morning. The thought of food turned the Gilberts’ stomachs.
Dusk was creeping in. The view outside his picture windows told him it had been a sunny day, though it was hard to discern whether it had been sunny and warm or sunny and cold. He’d seen a breeze ruffle the trees, so it could have been either. His head did a slow swivel toward Blair, who was awake, her gaze focused on the ceiling, Farrah’s head tucked into her lap, snoring softly. Tears stabbed his eyes. He’d let them both down in the worst of ways. He’d spend the rest of his life begging for their forgiveness.
“I have to tell you something,” Blair whispered.
His eyes drifted shut. “What?”
“Malcolm, if we don’t get out of this—”
“Don’t say that, BJ.”
“If we don’t—”
“Blair—”
“You were right, and I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Yesterday morning, those words would have been a triumph. Acknowledgment. Recognition. “You were right and I was wrong.” What every man wants to hear in an argument with his wife but knows he never will. In this moment, though, the victory was hollow. Like winning the championship because the other team forfeited. You win on the field. Not the penalty box. Their argument was the last thing he was thinking about, the last thing in the world that mattered. Especially not after last night.
“We don’t have to talk about this now.”
“We have to talk about it now.”
“Jesus, BJ—”
“This may be our only chance and I don’t want to die without letting you know I was stupid and wrong and I’m just—I hope you can forgive me.”
“We’re not going to die.”
“I still want to apologize.”
He sighed, forcing his eyes open, forcing himself to concentrate. “You don’t have to apologize,” he whispered, his voice drowsy. “It’s not important.”
They lapsed into silence. The TV still shouted. Dio and Tree still laughed. Cookie still snored.
“I also want you to know I love you,” she said, her voice splintering. “I love you so much and I don’t know how you put up with me.”
“BJ—”
“Because I can be a bitch. A real pain in the ass.”
“Stop it, Blair.”
“And I’ve done so much dirt and you’ve put up with me and I want you to know how much I love and appreciate you, just in case I don’t get the chance, just in case I don’t get to tell you—”
“You’re right. You are a pain in the ass. But you’re my pain in the ass.”
“I was looking forward to making up with you. You know. How we always do,” she whispered.
“We will.”
“You know they have to kill us, don’t you?”
“Don’t say that.”
“We’ve seen their faces. We know enough to describe them.”
“Blair—”
“They’re going to kill me and Farrah the minute Tree gets his money tomorrow morning. He’ll bring you back, you’ll see our dead bodies and then they’ll kill you.”
“Blair, for fuck’s sakes.”
“They’ll set the house on fire. That’s how they’ll get rid of the evidence. I’ve seen it on the news a million times—a family, attacked in their home, just like us and they set the house on fire and no one ever finds out who did it. That’s what’s going to happen. They’ll set the house on fire and they’ll never get caught. No one will ever know what happened to us.”
“You’ve got to stop this, Blair.”
“Malcolm, we have to be prepared. We can’t sit here and pretend like our time isn’t running out.” She returned her gaze to the ceiling. “By this time tomorrow, we’ll all be dead.”
“Shut up.”
“I have to accept it, Malcolm,” she said quietly. “And so do you. They’re going to win.”
“I’m not giving up, BJ. And you can’t either. We’ll find a way out of this. I will find a way to get us out of this. You believe me?”
She sighed. “Malcolm.”
“I asked if you believe me.”
She turned to him, tears wobbling in her eyes. “If that’s what you want me to say, then yes, I believe you.”
“But you don’t,” he said. “Not really.”
“I can’t believe it anymore, Malcolm. I believed it yesterday. I believed it this morning. But now … too much has happened.”
Malcolm bit his bottom lip and stared ahead. “I’m not giving up, Blair. I can’t. I won’t.”
Tick, Tick
Neely Smith: Well, you know that Bridget was actually the one dating Malcolm first, don’t you?
* * *
Willie Dalton: “Dating” is a strong word. More like f******.
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Ricky Gilbert: Malcolm met Bridget—you know I’m not sure how they met.
* * *
Alex Martinez: They met at the club. Malcolm was forever meeting honeys at the club.
* * *
Terry Gilbert: It might have been that they met in New York. Bridget was back living in the Bronx at the time and Malcolm was in town to play the Giants.
* * *
Willie Dalton: I was there that night, the night he met Bridget. It was the off-season, and Mal had come out to Cali—I actually lived in LA part of the year, ’cause my ex-wife was on a TV show at the time, and he was coming out quite a bit that summer to hang. Anyway, we were at some club on Sunset, the three of us—me, Alex, and Mal. Bridget was there with two of her girlfriends and, we all, shall we say, chose our partners for the night (Laughs). Truth be told, Bridget zeroed in on Mal right away, so she didn’t really give him a whole lot of choice (Laughs).
* * *
Alex Martinez: You know Bridget was cute. Banging body. I heard once some drug dealer ex-boyfriend of hers had paid for her implants. Yeah, Malcolm hit it. Of course. But, let’s be honest, she wasn’t the type of girl you brought home to moms, you know what I’m saying?
* * *
Chrissy Lennox: We were doing a show at the Hollywood Bowl and Bridget brought Malcolm backstage afterwards. I think she wanted to show off to her sister, you know, “Look at who I’m dating, aren’t you jealous?” It was pretty obvious who was more into who, though. I don’t think Malcolm looked at Bridget once.
* * *
Neely Smith: Oh, Malcolm was definitely flirting with Blair. Definitely. But, she wasn’t paying him any attention. She was being nice, but she wasn’t like sitting in his lap or anything. She didn’t know who the hell Malcolm was, which probably pissed Bridget off even more.
* * *
Ricky Gilbert: I think my brother fell in love with Blair like boom! Right then. No turning back (Laughs.)
* * *
Isabelle Ryan: Well, Malcolm pursued Blair quite heavily. He really began to woo her. Dozens of red roses would greet her at whatever venue Captivate was playing at. He would shower her with expensive jewelry. As usual, he was playing to win.
* * *
Chrissy Lennox: She didn’t keep any of the stuff he sent to her. She gave away the flowers, sent back all the jewelry, threw all the letters in the trash. I think at first, of course, it was because of the whole Bridget situation. She didn’t want to take something else away from her sister. Well, that and Malcolm was a dog (Laughs).
* * *
Skye Stafford: Malcolm did what a lot of men do when they’re tired of a woman—disappeared. Stopped calling Bridget, stopped communicating with her, just poof! Vanished. When he finally realized he wasn’t going to get anywhere with Blair, he decided the first thing he needed to do was clean up the mess with Bridget. So, he took her out to dinner, just the two of them, told her he was sorry for the way he had treated her, she didn’t deserve that, she was beautiful, she would find a great guy one day. So on and so on.
* * *
Elena York: Bridget was just sobbing, because as bad as Malcolm had treated her, he was actually the first guy to show her any measure of respect. She thanked him, told him she understood he was interested in Blair and wished him well. She gave Blair her blessing, saying maybe she was meant to bring the two of them together.
* * *
Sasha Reid, Friend of Bridget Johnson: Oh, Bridget cried on my shoulder many, many times about Malcolm. Many times. She was so excited when she met him. She really thought he was the one. Even though they only dated like two weeks, maybe three at the most, she had all of these dreams of being whisked away to this glamorous, perfect life and instead, it happened to Blair. You have to admit, that kind of sucks.
* * *
Chrissy Lennox: Well, I’m sure when Bridget met Malcolm, she saw dollar signs. Then of course, he slipped through her fingers and right into Blair’s hands.
* * *
Elena York: Blair and Malcolm got married in a small, very romantic ceremony on the beach in Malibu—family, close friends. In hindsight, this wedding seemed to be a harbinger of the trouble to come.
* * *
Neely Smith: Well, Bridget sold the wedding pictures to the tabloids, which was, you know, not cool. I mean, this was the biggest football star in the world at that time marrying a pop princess. We—all the Captivate girls—Dreena, Gwen, Jenny, Chrissy, and me—we were all there, a bunch of NFL guys, some NBA players, so yeah, there was pretty high demand for photos of that wedding.
* * *
Gwen Majors: Bridget had some guy she was dating—it was always some guy she was dating—anyway, she begged Blair to let this guy, a so-called professional photographer, take the wedding photos and Blair, of course, gave in. And like a week later—I think Blair and Malcolm were still on their honeymoon in Spain or wherever they were—the photos showed up in the tabloids. Any wedding photos they have are whatever crappy, drunken Polaroids any of us gave them, but no official portraits, no pictures of the wedding party, nothing.
* * *
Sasha Reid: It’s not an exaggeration for me to say that Bridget hated her sister. Hated. Not, “I love you, but I don’t like you,” but, “I hate your guts and wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire.”
* * *
Skye Stafford: Even though Blair forgave her sister, the truth is, dealing with Bridget was hard for her. She managed to keep her distance initially, but then Bibi got sick. Lung cancer. Blair, of course, feels obligated to move her to Highland Park. Except Bibi said she’d only come if Bridget came, too. As usual, Blair felt she didn’t have a choice.
* * *
Chrissy Lennox: I felt bad for Malcolm. He didn’t realize that he wasn’t just marrying Blair. Bibi and Bridget were also part of the deal.
* * *
Elena York: This went on for two excruciating years, all of them living under one roof.
* * *
Skye Stafford: Finally, Bibi dies and Malcolm kicks Bridget out about a week later. He’d had it. He wanted his house back, he wanted his wife back. He wanted his life back.
* * *
Jenny Valentine: Bridget’s little parting gift on that one, was to steal virtually every item—every album, tape, cassingle, sequin from a gown, button from a shirt, strand of hair from a wig, you name it—anything and everything to do with Captivate—from Blair. Cleaned her out. The only thing she left her with was her original Barbie doll and the only reason she didn’t get her hands on it was because she couldn’t find it.
* * *
Chrissy Lennox: She would have sold the thread off a dress if she could have. Then again, she probably did.
* * *
Gwen Majors: Sold everything. Every last thing. And Blair forgave her.
* * *
Kim Fletcher: I can remember when I met her, being surprised—shocked, really—that she didn’t have all of this really cool memorabilia. I was a huge Captivate fan and let me tell you, she had some great stories and I hung on every word. I just knew she would have all these really great album covers and dresses and pictures and backstage passes and all of that stuff. She didn’t have anything. Not one thing. This is a woman who had a room in her house devoted strictly to preserving all of Malcolm’s football memorabilia and memorialized pretty much everything Farrah ever did. All kinds of scrapbooks and photo albums and blowing up her finger paintings and framing them. And she had absolutely nothing from her Captivate days. I remember she kind of blew it off, like it wasn’t important to her. That was her old life, she gave everything to her sister, blah, blah, blah. Sounded like BS to me. Years later, Malcolm mentioned in passing what had really happened and I couldn’t believe it. Who does that?
* * *
Elena York: After Malcolm kicked Bridget out, life did settle down for the Gilbert family, and by all accounts, those were really peaceful, really happy years. They raised Farrah, went on vacations. Malcolm built his business, and Blair cultivated friendships and hobbies and volunteer work. Life was good.
* * *
Isabelle Ryan: Malcolm forbade Bridget from ever coming to the house again. During those years, the only time the sisters saw each other was on the infrequent trips Blair took to New York. He wouldn’t even allow Farrah to have contact with her aunt. That’s how much he despised Bridget.
* * *
Gwen Majors: Bridget never really went away, though. Still bleeding Blair dry. She’d start with small amounts—a couple hundred here, a couple hundred there. “I’m six months behind on my rent, I need money for a whole new wardrobe for this new job that I’ll probably get fired from in six weeks.”
