Текст книги "Missing Dixie"

Автор книги: Caisey Quinn

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Текущая страница: 15 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

31 | Dixie

NANA USED TO say when it rains, it pours. She had a lot of sayings, but that was one of her favorites. Probably because it was one hundred percent true.

Papa rephrased it a little less gently, something about the shit hitting the fan all at once.

I am certainly finding it to be a true sentiment if ever there was one.

Rock the Republic has been sympathetic to my situation inasmuch as they’ve allowed us to put off touring for several months while I figure out how to manage being a part of my band and Liam’s sole caregiver.

The truth is, though, I’m not the only one in love with Liam.

Dallas taught him how to play guitar and basketball.

Gavin taught him to play the drums.

Despite being an overworked and sleep-deprived brand-new mom, Robyn makes spaghetti every Thursday night because it’s Liam’s favorite.

Mrs. Lawson makes him cookies that he and Gavin openly admit are better than mine. And when I make brinner? Aka breakfast for dinner? They all show up. And not just for my biscuits.

Liam’s laughter, Liam’s smiles, they’re rare—but when they’re bestowed upon you, you can’t help but feel special, worthy, even.

We are a family, ragtag group we may be; we are a loving unit of living, breathing people who would do whatever it takes for one another. If that’s not family, I don’t know what is.

But we are a family that is out of time. Rock the Republic has been generous and genuinely supportive. But they have a tour to fill, vacant concert seats that they need folks to purchase tickets for, and a whole slew of other costs dependent upon me figuring out how to be both Liam’s guardian and the fiddle player and frequent vocalist in Leaving Amarillo.

I know Gavin has forced Dallas to back off on pushing me for an answer, but I also know that if I don’t give them one soon, our band will be replaced on the tour by Midnight Revival—an amazingly talented duo that has been blazing up the music scene.

This morning I have to meet with Ashley to discuss my options. Turns out, she’s not as much like Mandy Lantram as I initially believed. She’s not a succubus in designer business suits. What she and Gavin had was a mutual arrangement between two consenting adults and as much as I hate to admit it, I would’ve done the same thing in her position.

Sitting across from her, I’m thankful to realize that I truly have no animosity toward her. She has been helpful with Liam and hasn’t made a single pass at Gavin since we cleared things up in her office months ago.

“So I looked over everything,” she tells me while taking her seat at the desk and opening our file. “And you don’t have very many options, I’m afraid.”

I groan because this was pretty much what I expected to hear.

Part of me wishes Gavin were here but he’s visiting his mom in rehab and I know he’s where he needs to be.

“I put together your two most appealing options and obviously you need time to read over this and think and discuss with your family.” She slides two typed documents over to me and I glance down at the jumble of legal-speak where most statements begin, “The guardian shall be permitted” . . . and so on.

Ashley seems to take note of my confusion. “If you need any of this clarified for you, just give me a call and I’ll do my best. If I can’t answer your questions directly, I’ll point you in the direction of someone at social services who can.”

I thank her for her help and take my documents home to read over them. Unable to wait, I read them in the driveway before going inside to where Gavin and Liam currently are having some type of epic battle on the Xbox.

Ashley was right.

I have exactly two choices.

Give Liam over to a more suitable guardian and go on the road with my band as planned.

Or find myself a career more suitable to motherhood, legally adopt Liam as my son, and fit both him and myself into a cookie-cutter life that the state deems fit.

Neither option feels right . . . or even possible.

“He’s asleep,” Robyn says sometime around midnight. “Denver and Liam are actually both crashed out in the spare room. I’m glad you decided to move into the bigger one so they could have that one.”

I nod. “Me, too.”

I glance around the kitchen table at my family, Robyn, Dallas, and Gavin, before launching into our discussion about Liam’s care. We decided mutually that it would be best to discuss it without him overhearing, as he’s had to deal with enough.

I describe both options, detailing the pros and cons as they were laid out to me in the documents, while passing them around for everyone to have a look. Once the papers have made their way around the table, Dallas looks directly into my eyes.

“I think it’s going to be a difficult situation either way, Dix. But what’s most important is what you want. Do you want a kid? Do you want to be solely responsible for this kid? And if you do, are you sure it’s for the right reasons?”

I start to stand up and tell my brother he has no idea what he’s talking about, but Robyn stops me with a firm hand on mine. “I think what your brother means to say is, we all want what’s best for you. We just want to make sure that you’re making the decision based on that.” When I don’t respond, she gives me a sad head tilt and sympathetic smile. “You can’t save everyone, Dixie. And you can’t save anyone if you’re not taking care of yourself. Trust me, I’ve been learning this since Denver was born. If all you do is give and give, you will eventually hit empty and crash.”

I know they all mean well, and that they all think I’m insane for wanting to adopt a troubled soon-to-be eight-year-old. But what they don’t see is how Liam, Gavin and I together are . . . just . . . right. Somehow we belong together, the three of us, the same way Dallas and Gavin and I used to. We belong to each other, and that much I know to be true. But it feels like that’s all I know and there are so many questions to be answered, questions I can barely comprehend in the legal documents.

I look to Gavin for his input, but he says nothing.

“A lot of these restrictions seem to be targeting single mothers. It would be easier if you were married . . . to someone without a criminal record,” Robyn adds absently while looking over the papers. “Sorry, Gavin.”

He cuts his eyes to her then meets my inquiring gaze.

“She’s right, you know,” he finally says. “As much as I hate to admit it, if you married someone like McKinley or some orchestra pit guy, you two could probably adopt Liam with the snap of a finger and live happily ever after.”

“God,” I groan. “Let it go already, Garrison. I’m with you. You’re with me. Forever. Got it? No more pity parties in the peanut gallery.”

Gavin gives me a half smile. “I just don’t want to stand in the way of what you want, Bluebird. Not again. Never again.”

“You’re not and you won’t.” I shuffle the papers Robyn has just handed back to me. “But I do need help figuring this out. Will Gavin’s criminal record affect my ability to adopt Liam permanently, you think?”

Robyn shrugs. “No way to know for certain. What did the attorney say?”

I sigh. “She said it depended on the judge we’re assigned for the hearing. She said some judges won’t make a big deal about it and some will.”

“That’s helpful.” Robyn makes an annoyed breathy sound. “That’s like saying they’re going to make the decision based on the weather in Texas that day. So basically, it could go either way and she doesn’t know shit. Awesome.”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

I face-plant into the palms of my hands and try to think.

There’s really only one solution and I already know what it is. I just know it’s going to hurt people I care about.

So I decide to do what Nana taught me.

I hold out for a miracle.

32 | Gavin

I’VE NEVER SEEN Dixie as quiet as she’s been the past couple of days. Sure, she’s laughed and smiled and put on a happy face for everyone else’s sake because that’s what she does. But I know better. I know her heart and her heart is sad.

I get the feeling that she’s already made her mind up about Liam and about the tour. If this were Dallas in charge of making decisions, I’d say the tour was a sure thing. But it’s Dixie so I haven’t even turned my two weeks’ notice in at the Tavern.

Dixie is a bleeding heart determined to save the world. She can’t do that just playing music on the road with her band, but she can definitely make a difference in Liam’s life.

Which is why I have a plan. Granted, my plans haven’t always gone so well in the past, but this time I have faith that Dixie will be open to it. At least, I hope she will. Otherwise I’m about to make a gigantic ass of myself.

The court date for Liam’s custody hearing is only a few days away. And because fate is cruel, Rock the Republic has given us to the evening of the same date to give them an answer. Naturally.

As we dress for court in front of her bedroom mirror, I stand behind her and fasten a pearl necklace that belonged to her grandmother around her neck. She’s been so busy with Liam and the band lately that I’ve barely had a minute alone with her. Worried blue eyes meet mine in the mirror. I place my hands on her bare shoulders and kiss her gently on the cheek.

“Whatever happens, whatever you decide, it will be okay,” I whisper into her ear.

“How do you know?” Her eyes are wide and searching when she turns to face me. They examine my face as if all the answers might be written in invisible ink.

“I just know. We’re here, aren’t we?”

She frowns, clearly unsatisfied with my answer, but it’s the only one I have right now.

I hold her hand in the car and all the way into the courtroom. I keep holding her hand while the social services resource officer takes Liam to the room he has to wait in while adults determine his fate.

I am still holding her hand when we take our seats and wait for the judge.

I finally understand what Dixie and I give one another that no one else can.

Balance. Strength. Hope.

During childhood, she provided these things for me during my weakest moments. Now I provide them for her. It’s an even exchange we will continue until our last breath.

The judge takes the stand and Dixie tenses beside me.

“It’s going to be okay, Bluebird. It’s all going to be okay.”

33 | Dixie

I FEEL LIKE I’ve spent ten years in this courtroom. I’ve given my lengthy statement, Dallas and Robyn have both testified on my behalf, the lady from social services and Sheila Montgomery detailed their experience with Liam, and even Mrs. Lawson showed up to speak her piece. Just when I think the judge is going to shut it down so he can deliberate in his chambers, Ashley stands up and makes an announcement.

“We have one more statement to be read, Your Honor,” she interrupts before the judge can complete his “if there are no further statements” sentence. “My client would like to be heard on this matter as he is from a similar background as the child in question.”

The judge nods and I watch Gavin stand and take his place at the podium. I don’t know what he has planned and I’m nervous for him. A steady tremor hums through me as he begins to address the court.

“Thank you,” Gavin says in greeting, “for allowing me to address the court today in the matter of Liam’s custody hearing.” He clears his throat and I feel like my heart is going to leap out of my chest.

“While it may seem odd for me to speak before the court today, I would like a chance to explain why I feel compelled to do so.”

Smart Gavin is blowing my mind right now. I’ve never heard him speak so eloquently and articulately. Just when I think I can’t be any more in love with him than I already am, he goes and proves me wrong.

“As you know, I have made mistakes in the past that have placed me on the wrong side of the law. I won’t deny that on paper, Dixie and I might not look like the best option when it comes to guardians for Liam. However, Dixie Lark is the kindest, most compassionate human being I have the privilege to know. And as for me, I was raised in the kind of home Liam has known for the duration of his childhood. My mother was a heroin addict—rather, she is a heroin addict—and moreover, she was an abuse victim and sixteen when she got pregnant with me. There was no support, no guidance, and no one around to oversee my safety and well-being.” He pauses to take a breath and I wipe my sweaty palms on my skirt. I am so with him in this moment I might as well climb right inside his body. “That being said, I learned at an early age that drawing attention to the shortcomings of my living situation would only result in a tumultuous upheaval of what tiny bit of security I knew. Removal from my home and police officers and scary people in suits and then a drive to a new home, which often was just as unstable and frequently terrifying.”

The entire courtroom is captivated as he continues.

“The system is far from perfect, Your Honor. I think we can agree on that. But that is not the point I am up here to make. My point is, the world looks different through the eyes of a child. And when you grow up in the type of environment that Liam and I have, you develop a certain type of survival mode. You don’t think about toys or trucks or cake or playing games. You think about surviving and about getting through that day. Hiding from the dealer that kicks you when he comes over to see mom or dad, avoiding an outraged boyfriend or friend when they’re in a drug-induced rage, and scrounging up enough foodlike substances to keep from passing out at school because that’s when they call the bad people to come take you somewhere even scarier.”

I blink back the hot tears threatening to burn tracks of hatred for both Katrina Garrison and Carl Andrews down my face. I swallow the sob trying to escape, the audible proof of the pain I feel for Gavin and Liam—sympathy I know neither of them wants or needs.

“Dixie and I,” he says, jolting me to life with the sound of my name as he angles himself in my direction briefly, “we’ve gotten to known Liam. We’ve spent time with him, shown him that time with us—whether at home or on the road—will be a time of safety, of security, and of being provided for by adults he can trust. This is rare for a child in his situation and though we aren’t married and we are musicians who don’t have the most conventional lifestyle, I can say without reservation or hesitation that Liam needs a less restrictive environment than most children his age. A classroom with rules he cannot possibly keep in mind at all times will be a nightmare for him just as it was for me. Trying to fit in and compete with children who’ve had advantages he couldn’t even possibly comprehend is both unfair and unrealistic. Due to the success of our careers, we’re able to provide him an individualized education where he can set his own pace with tutors who are knowledgeable about his situation and temperament. We were also able to find a therapist who specializes in working with children like Liam.”

Gavin casts a long look over his shoulder at me and I grin big because I am so damn proud of him right now. My broody silent boy stood up and became a man today for the sake of a child we both love and cherish. No matter the outcome or the judge’s decision, I know we will always be a part of Liam’s life and that having Gavin as a role model was part of a grander plan designed by a much higher power than us.

“Is that all, Mr. Garrison?”

At first Gav looks like he’s going to wrap it up, but then he shakes his head.

“No, sir. I just want to add that when I was a kid, I thought everything was my fault. I placed the blame for my mother’s behavior squarely on my own small shoulders. Meeting Liam has helped me to realize that no child is to blame or should be punished for their parents’ mistakes. I don’t regret the pain that I suffered growing up or carry it with me any longer because I understand that there was a purpose for it. Without experiencing it for myself, I never could’ve related to Liam and reached him the way that I have been able to. I consider that a gift—his friendship and his trust. I know he won’t give it to many. I hope that you will look long and hard at this case, at us as individuals, Liam, Dixie, and myself, and you will see what I see. A family. One designed to be together. One that loves and supports each other. I hope that you will choose us as Liam’s permanent guardians, and not because we make the most money, but because we love and care for him and understand him in a way other guardians would likely be unable to do.”

The judge nods and Gavin takes one more deep breath. “That’s all, Your Honor. Thank you for your time.”

When he returns to his seat he reaches for my hand and I feel his trembling as much as mine.

“I love you,” I whisper. “And love you.”

“Ditto, Bluebird,” he whispers back. His eyes meet mine and I read the promise in them.

It’s going to be okay.

Gavin says we can use the broken pieces of the past to build a brighter future . . . but I’m not sure this is true anymore.

Either we lose Liam or lose the band, and I know from experience that I need them both.

Can we have both? I don’t know.

All I know is that I don’t want my dreams to cost me my heart.

For the first time in my life, I know I finally have the strength to hold on tight either way.

34 | Gavin

Two years later

I CAN’T HELP but laugh as Dixie tries to juggle the four Grammys we won tonight. A song we wrote about Liam during our yearlong struggle to formally adopt him launched our career into the stratosphere and we still haven’t come down—though we all know we will one day. For now, we keep each other grounded.

Photographers are everywhere as we leave the awards ceremony. It’s a constant barrage of flashbulbs, almost like being in a club with strobe lights. Dallas has his hands full with Robyn and Denver, I’m carrying Liam, and my poor Bluebird is stuck with the relatively small but still heavy and somewhat cumbersome trophies.

“Congratulations on the twins, Dallas!” a reporter calls out. “When’s the due date?”

“June,” Robyn answers, glaring at Dixie, who grins maniacally in response.

“What about you two?” the same reporter calls out toward me and Dixie. “Any bundles of joy coming your way anytime soon?”

Dixie looks momentarily caught off guard so I answer.

“We have our hands full as it is right now,” I tell the female reporter standing up front. Nodding to Liam, who has his face buried in my shoulder, I add, “We’re focusing on our family and our music.”

She takes this direct answer as motivation to push on and shoves her mic toward me. “The history with the band, how it all began, how you two ended up together and with an adopted son, it’s all such a mystery to your fans. Do you ever think you’ll do an exposé on your backstory? For CMT or someone else, for instance?”

I glance over at Robyn, who does our PR and marketing and typically fields these types of questions. She’s busy consoling an exhausted Denver so I take a deep breath and face the reporter myself. Our backstory is messy and full of criminal records, complicated courtroom dramas, and disastrous tours in which things happened that I have vowed never to discuss. I’ve taken several oaths to keep specific incidents quiet—particularly those involving one band member peeing her pants and it wasn’t either a child or a pregnant Robyn touring with us at the time. Dixie would kill me dead if those details ever surfaced.

“Actually¸ uh, we don’t really have any plans at the moment as far as that’s concerned. We’re just kind of—”

“Moving forward,” Dixie breaks in, stepping between me and the reporter. “We won’t be doing any exposés on our past or our backstory because we’re focusing on our future.”

God, I love this woman, I think to myself while I watch her politely shield Liam and me from the remaining questions being thrown at us as we leave.

I have an amazing woman in my life and we have a son. And an internationally known award-winning band that is currently topping most of the music charts. Me, Captain Screwup, the guy who was once capable of nothing more than fucking up the one-man parade known as his life. I have everything I ever dreamed of and then some.

I was raised, I was born and bred, in complete and total darkness. Yet somehow I found the light. The same way Liam gravitated toward her, so did I. We both still do.

She is a beacon, shining relentlessly and guiding us out of the dark.

We get a lot of questions about getting married, but neither of us cares much about that. What we have is deeper than a piece of paper. Dixie Leigh Lark is my soul mate and nothing will ever change that.

Dixie glances over her shoulder and I see blue eyes full of love gleaming up at me.

“Forever,” I mouth at her.

“And always,” she mouths back.

My Bluebird is right. We are focusing on our future.

And what a bright, beautiful future it is.