Текст книги "Storms Over Secrets"

Автор книги: J. A. DeRouen

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

“A Drop In The Ocean” by Ron Pope

Present Day

I TIP BACK the shot glass in one smooth motion and signal to the bartender to bring me another. The whiskey burns a trail down my throat, searing the remnants of the words I spat in anger. I spent the day stewing on what went wrong with Celia and how things could have been different. But fuck that. Tonight I want to drown. Another glass of amber liquid appears in front of me, and I indulge once again.

“Hey, I thought that was you. My cuz getting wasted alone at a local dive. I’ve got to say, not your usual style, man.” Will shakes his head and claps a hand on my back before climbing on the stool beside me.

“Fuck off, man. I’m not in the mood tonight,” I tell him in a clipped tone, looking straight ahead.

“Dude, no judgment here. Hell, I’ll get liquored up with you. I’m just not used to you drowning your sorrows. You’re the happiest guy I know.” Will chuckles and signals the bartender.

I sigh loudly and run a hand down my face. “Look, I appreciate it, really I do. But this happy guy wants to be left alone. Another day, yeah?”

Will squeezes my shoulder and picks up the beer the bartender left him before standing. “I get your not-so-subtle hint, but if you change your mind,” he says, pointing to a group of overdressed douchebags by the pool tables. “I’m with those assholes over there. If you’re up for it later, we could team up and hustle a few hundred out of their preppy asses. Seriously, they need the lesson, so we’d be doing them a favor.”

“I’ll see ya, Will. Fishing next week, right?”

He nods and waves before turning to rejoin his band of idiots. I tug on the brim of my hat, curving it down and pulling it lower, hoping for anonymity. I deserve to nurse the hole in my chest in peace.

I don’t give a shit what Celia says, nothing about last night was a mistake. She’s happy with me. She’s alive when we’re together. I do that for her. Me—no one else. I know what I feel when she’s in my arms, and it’s mirrored back to me in her eyes.

What I can’t figure out is why a visit from Audrey would change everything. We had an amazing night together, and we woke up to an equally amazing morning, and Audrey wiped it away in an instant. What in the hell could she have against Celia and me? It doesn’t make any sense.

When the bartender places another shot glass in front of me, I don’t hesitate. This time, I hardly feel the burn.

“A little birdie told me I might find you here,” Adam says as he takes a seat beside me.

I turn and shoot daggers at Will, who shrugs apologetically. I give him the one-finger salute.

“Don’t be mad at him. He is worried about you, man.” Adam leans in and sniffs. He turns his head in disgust and waves me off. “And now I see why. Your eyeballs are practically swimming in whiskey. Forget about walking a straight line. I’m pretty fucking sure you can’t walk at all.”

“Good thing I don’t plan on going anywhere.” I spin the empty shot glass on the bar and slam my hand down to stop it. “Go home to your kids, Adam.”

“I’m on my way to do just that. They spent the afternoon with Caroline, so I’m sure they’ll be covered in paint. I’m making a quick pit stop to check on your sorry ass.”

Caroline, the director of New Horizons Outreach Center, has taken quite a liking to Lily and Gage. She babysits almost as much as Celia, and Adam’s lucky to have her. She’s a therapist, just like Celia, but she specializes in art therapy. She’s always cooking up the coolest projects for Lily and Gage.

“You can count on that. Be ready to hose them down outside.” I lower my head and avoid his stare. “You came to say ‘I told you so,’ man?”

“You know that’s not me. What about you? You gonna give me shit about blowing things up with Sara?”

Ah, that’s right, I forgot. While swimming in my own pity pool, I forgot about Adam’s relationship implosion. Evidently, the separation between church and state came crashing down around him, and he didn’t take it well. Sara agreed to babysit the twins for Celia when something came up, and Adam went ballistic. I’m not sure how he’s going to fix this one.

“Of course I won’t.” I angle away from Adam and shake my head. “You know what the worst part of it is? I didn’t fuck up. I didn’t do a damn thing wrong. Honestly, I don’t even have a clue what happened today. All I know is that I was dismissed. ‘Goodbye, Cain. See ya. Thanks for fucking playing.’ It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Look, I don’t know if I should tell you this or not, but I found out something today that may shed some light on things.” He grabs the back of his neck and shakes his head. “It’s kind of fucked up.”

I stare at him expectantly, and he hesitates. “Speak, dude. What the hell?”

“Damn, all right. So Audrey showed up at Celia’s house this morning, right?”

“Uh, no shit, Sherlock. I was there, remember?”

“Just give me a second. I have a point, I swear.” I nod and shut my mouth. I don’t want to miss a second of this. “So she storms out of the house and walks over to my house. I guess she was waiting for you to leave, because she went back to Celia’s when you drove away. Anyway, she said something to me. Something I never caught on to before.”

Adam gets quiet again, and I exhale a frustrating groan. “Seriously, what?”

“She was muttering under her breath, but I caught most of it. I heard her say ‘Celia loves my brother, and that’s never going to change.’ Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

I lean back onto the barstool and cross my arms. “Are you shitting me? The guy from Celia’s past is Audrey’s brother?”

“Yep.” Adam smiles proudly, seemingly impressed with his investigative skills.

I don’t even know what to make of this realization. I know Audrey and Celia are best friends, and have been since childhood, but I’ve never heard either of them ever mention a brother. It definitely explains Audrey’s reaction today.

“So Audrey expects her to remain stuck in the past for the rest of her life? She’s never allowed to move on? That doesn’t make any sense. Something doesn’t add up.”

Adam shrugs. “I haven’t figured that part out yet.”

“Maybe we were wrong from the get-go. Maybe the guy really is off at college, or in the military, or something. Maybe he is coming home after all.”

The thought makes the whiskey in my stomach boil and churn. Was I a fun, temporary distraction?

“I don’t think so,” Adam replies, his hands held up in surrender when I start to argue. “Hear me out, man. Have you ever heard a word, even an inkling of a long distance boyfriend? Between the two of us, with as much time as we spend with her, we’d have heard something. A missed phone call, a letter, a visit home … something.”

“I hope you’re right. God, that sounds so wrong, like I hope the guy’s dead. I don’t mean it that way. Hell, I don’t know what I mean.”

The bartender circles back, and I have the good sense to wave him off this time. I should have turned away the last couple of shots, but better late than never, right? I need to get a clear head and try to make sense of everything Adam just told me.

“So what’s the plan? How are you gonna fix it?” Adam asks.

“A plan? You got a plan to win Sara back, Casanova?”

“I always have a plan,” he says with a smirk, but it fades quickly. His lips turn down and he shakes his head. He knows he messed up, that’s for sure. “I’m gonna win her back. I have to.”

I hit him with a couple of man slaps on the back. “Yeah, you will. Better get some thick knee pads, though.”

He chuckles. “I’m not above groveling. I know I fucked up, but I’m gonna fix it. You want my advice?”

“It can’t hurt,” I say with a shrug.

“Make her miss you. She’ll realize her mistake.” I nod, hoping he’s right. At least it’s a start. “Now let’s go. I’m driving your drunk ass home.”

As we drive through Providence, my vision is blurry, and my thoughts are jumbled. But one thing stands out above all the rest. Adam’s right; I need to make Celia miss me. The bitch of it is, I’m gonna miss the hell out of her, too.

“I’d Hate To Be You When People Find Out What This Song Is About” by Mayday Parade

Present Day

“WAKE UP MAN, he’s gone,” I laugh as I slap Will’s cheek.

My cousin lays passed out cold on my grandparents’ couch, spit dried on his cheek and hair plastered to his greasy forehead. He groans softly and runs a hand over his face.

“Ugh, what the hell are you talking about? Who’s gone?” He flips over and buries his head in the crevice of the couch.

“The puma that shit in your mouth.”

He rolls over to face me. He opens and closes his mouth slowly and a look of disgust washes over his face. “A puma did shit in my mouth.”

“Hurry up and get in the shower, whiskey breath. I can smell you from across the room. Grams will be down to cook breakfast any minute, and I don’t want her getting drunk off your fumes.”

I’m giving him a hard time, but Lord knows I’ve been there. I still like to keep him on his toes. He knows Saturday mornings are for fishing, which is why he sleeps over here on Friday nights. You think he’d learn and lay off the sauce, but his head is as hard as mine.

He nearly falls off the sofa and then trudges up the stairs, waving me off the entire way. Not even five minutes pass before I hear the clanging of pans in the kitchen. I follow the noise and find Granny and Mom cracking eggs and mixing pancake batter.

“Mom, what are you doing here this morning?”

They both greet me with cheek kisses and pinches as soon as I hit the doorway.

“Sarge didn’t have a great night. Granny and I had to tag team it,” Mom says in explanation, and that’s all she has to say.

The evenings are especially hard on Sarge. He seems to get even more confused than usual, and he’s much more agitated. It takes its toll on Granny, and sometimes two pairs of eyes help keep him out of trouble.

“Why didn’t y’all call me? I would have come over and helped.”

My grandmother lovingly slaps my cheek. “We know that, sweet boy, but your mom and I had it covered.”

Our conversation is cut short when Will joins us, and, of course, the kisses and pinches resume. Will winces with every high-pitched squeal, and I have to laugh. Maybe I’ll take it easy on him for the rest of the morning … but what would be the fun in that?

Breakfast commences with no sign of Sarge. When I ask about it, Mom explains he was up until past midnight, so he’ll probably sleep well into the morning. Even so, Mom and Granny are still up with the chickens, and I know they must be exhausted. Looking at them, you’d never know, and it makes me wonder how many times I’ve been left in the dark.

“Cain, why haven’t you invited your sweet little friend over for dinner again? She was such a darling. How has she been?” Granny leans in and smiles hopefully, and I hate to be the one to burst her bubble.

I slowly finish chewing my bite, buying a little extra time. “Um, I’m not sure. We don’t talk anymore.”

She watches me thoughtfully and waits for an explanation. I don’t have one, so I keep quiet. The truth is, it’s been weeks since I’ve spoken to Celia. I’ve kept my distance, just like I said I would. I’ve avoided her at every turn, staying away from Adam’s house, the clinic, or wherever I know she will be. I miss the hell out of her. But I don’t share that with Grams.

“Is that so?”

“Yes, ma’am.” I look away and turn my attention to my cousin, hoping to end this line of questioning. “Will, where did you go last night? I don’t see your truck in the driveway—did you have to hitch a ride home?”

Will flings me the stink eye, and I can’t blame him. Oh well, he’ll get over it. The little fucker needs to learn how to take one for the team. I’m merely being a stellar cousin, teaching him the important lessons in life. He’ll thank me one day.

“Actually, I saw Celia last week, and she said to tell you hello, Granny,” Mom chimes in, bringing the topic back to the forefront and making my jaw hit the floor.

I drop my fork on my plate and turn my attention to Mom. “What do you mean you saw her last week? Where?”

What the hell?

Mom stabs her pancakes with her fork, takes a bite, and chews slowly, innocently. Yeah, I’m not buying it.

“She stopped by the house to visit with Moe and me. Actually, we have teatime at least once a week. She’s such a dear girl.” Mom flips her gaze to Granny who nods in agreement.

I cross my arms, lean back in my chair, and take a good look at the two Judases. I was under the false assumption that blood was thicker than water. “Well, isn’t that just cozy. Did you swap recipes, paint each other’s toenails, or was it another laugh fest at the expense of my rooster?”

Will chokes on his orange juice, Granny gasps and clutches her chest, and Mom slams a hand on the table, making the dishes rattle.

“Well, I never! Cain Bennett, I did not raise you to speak about private parts over a perfectly pleasant breakfast.” Mom’s voice hits a loud whisper—you know that thing moms do when they want to holler, but act too dignified to actually let it rip. It’s eerily similar to a kid’s whisper, in that it’s not a whisper at all.

“I’m not the one who started the private part talk, am I, Mom? You and Mo did that. And now that Celia and me aren’t talkin’ and she’s spending time at the house, there’s no telling what you two are gonna let fly. You probably already told her about the lingerie section of the J.C. Penney catalog I had stashed under my bed.” I lean forward in my chair and groan when her lip twitches at my comment. “I don’t like her going over there.”

My words come out like a decree, but I don’t get the response I’m hoping for. Mom and Granny scoff in unison, and Will has become extremely interested in the plate in front of him.

“Just because you’re still grazing around town, spitting out cud willy-nilly doesn’t mean your momma has to follow your lead. You brought that sweet girl over here. You introduced her to us. If they’ve forged a friendship, I’m afraid you’re gonna have to deal with it,” Granny states matter-of-factly.

“I’m not grazing, Granny,” I say, shaking my head. I stand up and put my dishes in the sink. I turn and walk out of the kitchen, stopping for a moment at the doorway. “Did it ever cross your mind that maybe Celia’s the cow and I’m the cud?”

I don’t wait for their response. I walk to the utility room and gather my tackle box and fishing pole. I load up the truck and wait for Will. I look up when I hear the screen door creak, and frown when I see Mom walking my way. She pulls down the tailgate of my truck and hoists herself up to sit. Her legs dangle carelessly as she leans back on her hands. She smiles at me, and her eyes soften to the point of melting.

“I love you, son.”

I huff and stare at the ground, cursing myself for not being able to stay mad at her for a full ten minutes. It’s been that way all my life.

“I love you, too.”

We sit in silence for a bit, and the warm Louisiana wind whips around us, feeling more like a heater than a breeze.

“There’s a fire in that girl. I see it plain as day, although she tries to hide it. We’re like-minded—she and I. It’s like looking into the mirror. There’s a war inside her heart, and you need to let her fight it.” Mom loops her arm with mine and scoots me closer to her. I lean against the tailgate, and she rests her head on my shoulder.

“How is she?”

I know the answer may burn me, but I can’t stop myself from asking. What if she’s happy without me? How will I feel if my absence hasn’t fazed her at all? It kills me to think our time together may not mean as much to her as it did to me. I just don’t believe it. What’s left may be in shambles, but it was genuine … and reciprocated. There was nothing plastic about our relationship. It was, however, painfully temporary.

“Hmm … she’s asking the same thing about you. She even checked in on Biz,” she giggles, rolling her eyes. “That girl has the same lost look in her eyes that I see in yours.”

A humorless laugh escapes me, and she squeezes my arm. “This is the way she wants it. She basically threw me out of her house. She uninvited me to her life. Did she explain what happened? Because I still don’t get it.”

“She didn’t … and if she did, I wouldn’t tell you,” she says softly, sounding more like an apology than a statement. “And she’s welcome at our home any time.”

“Nice.”

“Son, you and I are so blessed. We’re surrounded by people who love us and support us. Not everyone gets that, and, even if they do, many people lose it way too early in their lives. I’m not sure which category Celia fits in, but I can assure you, there’s emptiness there. I will not turn her away. You shouldn’t want me to.”

“You’re right,” I say on a sigh. Leave it to Mom to put everything in perspective. I only hope the day comes where Celia will count on me again, too.

Mom hops off the tailgate. “But I promise I’ll stay mum about your J.C. Penney catalog.” She breaks out into a feverish giggle and shakes her head. “Seriously, I can’t figure out what in the world you found enticing about old lady bras and girdles. You have to admit, it’s funny.”

I throw up the tailgate and wave her away with my hand. “I’m never gonna live that shit down. What can I say? Beggars can’t be choosers. Desperate times call for desperate measures. You have to make lemonade out of lemons—”

“Or porn out of Playtex?” She laughs.

“And you give me shit about private parts at the breakfast table? Seriously, woman, I need bleach for my ears. Isn’t there a rule about mothers using the word porn in front of their children? If there isn’t, there should be.”

Mom pats my cheek and shakes her head. “When have you ever known me to follow the rules?” She walks back to the house, barefoot and wild-haired. That’s my mom, carefree and full of fire. She looks back over her shoulder and smiles. “Give it time, Cain, she’ll find her fire. Be patient.”

Patience. Right. That’s never been my strong suit.

Adam meets us at the pond, and the fishing commences. He hasn’t caught one fish all morning, but he’s still got this dopey smile plastered on his face. It’s sickening, really.

According to Adam, the birds are singing, the bees are buzzing, the flowers are blooming, and whatever other happy horseshit he can conjure up. The truth of it is, Sara finally forgave his groveling ass, and he’s starry eyed in love. I’m happy for him, I am. It couldn’t have happened to a more deserving guy—a more deserving family. It doesn’t mean I’m in the right headspace to watch it. The only thing warming my bed is Biz, and he’s way too fucking hairy for my taste. Don’t even get me started on his atrocious breath.

“Sara and the kids should be on the way to the movies by now. She took them to Alex’s art class this morning. Maybe I’ll call and see how things are going,” he says as he fishes his phone out of his pocket.

“Leave ‘em alone. They have your number. They’ll call if they need you. Plus, it’ll look like you don’t trust Sara if you call.” I grab his phone out of his hand before he can dial the number. His home screen is filled with Sara, Lily, and Gage’s laughing faces, all smushed together to fit in the picture. I hold the phone up and show it to Will. “Just in case you’re wondering, this is one of the first signs that a man has lost his balls.”

Adam grabs the phone away from me while Will howls with laughter. “Fuck y’all.” Adam scowls at both of us then turns his attention to the screen. And the dopey smile is back.

“Dude, I don’t know what to say. You’re just so … domesticated.” Will spits the word out of his mouth like it tastes disgusting on his tongue. I guess it does if you’re a nineteen-year-old college kid.

To me, the word tastes like apple pie, meat lover’s pizza, Mo’s homemade lasagna, and any other comfort food I can imagine. I’m just giving Adam a hard time, and if I’m being honest, my bitterness has come out to play. Jealousy feels like a cowboy’s blue jeans—way too fucking tight in all the wrong places. I’ve got to get out of this funk.

“I’ve got two kids, man. I was domesticated while you were having wet dreams about Peggy Sue from algebra class in the ninth grade. I let go of wild a long time ago. I love my kids, and Sara is…” He closes his eyes and inhales deep. “She’s the cherry on top of a great fucking life.”

I slap his back and give him a quick nod. “I’m happy for you, man … now put your vagina away and let’s catch some fish.”

Before Adam can tell me to fuck off, my text message alert interrupts. I fish my phone from my pocket, and I’m shocked to see TINK on the screen. It’s been radio silence for weeks, so I can’t imagine what she would be texting about. I feel the stirrings of hope deep in my stomach, but I try to swallow it down. For all I know, her hot water heater busted, so she’s calling the landlord to fix it.

Tink: Hey, Mr. Craig is back from the hospital, and I’m making a home visit this afternoon around three o’clock. I know you said I shouldn’t go alone, so you’re welcome to come.

I stare at the screen, waiting for the answer to come to me. She’s right; I don’t want her on that side of town by herself. While I’m thinking, my phone pings again.

Tink: He asked about you when I called him. I think he’d enjoy seeing you.

I would like to see him, but I’m not sure if it’s the right thing. Yes, I need to be patient, but that doesn’t mean I should be a doormat. Another ping.

Tink: And I’d enjoy visiting with you, too … Anyway, I’ll be leaving the clinic about 2:45, if you’d like to come.

“Musings from Never Never Land?” Adam asks with a low chuckle.

“Huh?”

“Is that Celia?”

“Yeah.”

There’s a part of me that wants to jump in my truck and break every speed limit to spend time with her. My heart wants the opportunity to change her mind. My soul craves her company. Thankfully, my head is still in the game. Because Celia may have reached out to me, but this meeting is on her terms. It would be so easy to fall back into the friend routine with her, but that’s a step backward I’m unwilling to take.

“Adam, what time is Sara due back with the kids?”

“She’s planning to take them for ice cream after the movie, so I’d say about four-thirty. Why?”

“Because I need a favor.”