Roxy Sings the Blues

by Ellie Mack

  “So they consumed a huge quantity of sports drinks, but died of dehydration?” Devon stopped spinning listening intently to Alex.

  “The actual cause of death would be cardiac infarction. In other words, a heart attack.”

  Devon leaned forward, slowly lowering his head to the counter. “This doesn’t help.”

  “Perhaps if someone was to attend the local clubs, and acquire samples, we could determine where it is being manufactured. If it’s nothing that is handled through the clubs, then it’s a small-time distributer or even an in-home meth lab.”

  “I’ll see if Marcy and Gail will go to the clubs. People know me, I can’t do it.” Devon rose to his feet; shoulders slumped as he walked towards the door.

  “Thanks, Alex.”

  “Don’t you want to know the identities of the victims?” Alex pulled the papers from the file but Devon had already gone.

  ******

  “Tara, do you want to go out tonight?” Devon sat in his car not turning it on yet.

  “It’s a Wednesday.”

  “Yeah, so?” Devon needed to get out. He needed to think, to clear his head.

  “Who is going to stay here with Roxy?” He could hear the guilt in her voice.

  “Ugh. I’ve got to be honest. I need to get out and get some fresh air. I need to be away from her. She’s depressing. If she doesn’t get her shit together soon, you may need to have medical intervention.” He leaned his head back against the headrest, staring at the roof liner in his car. He had spent the bulk of his time off duty with the girls. He skipped going with his partner to the bar, he had skipped several invitations to get out.

  “I’m really hoping it won’t come to that but she’s really gone off the deep end.” He heard the crackle in her voice.

  “Tell you what. We’ll only go out for a little while. I will pick you up at six-thirty, and then we can discuss options over dinner without risk of her overhearing our concerns, not that she would respond anyway.”

  He’d tried. God knows he had tried. He laid his heart out to her, poured out how he felt. Proclaimed his regrets in breaking up with her, shared his jealousy of seeing her so upset over Luke. He even tried to be firm with her, that he’d promised Luke to take care of her and she was making it difficult. He didn’t know if any of it had gotten through. He was concerned that at this point, she would need hospital care under psychiatric treatment.

  He knew he and Tara were not working out, but the timing to break up never seemed right. He cared about them both as friends. He tried to transition to dating mode with Tara. She was certainly attractive and likable. He had to figure out a way to break this off without hurting her. He leaned forward, resting his head on the steering wheel. Maybe it would be best if she didn’t want to go out. Maybe he could find a way to break it off between them.

  “Yeah, I would like to get away as well. I will be ready at six thirty. You decide where we go.”

  Devon’s shoulders sagged as his out disappeared. It was his own fault. If he had thought things out before calling, he could have avoided stringing her along. “See you then.” He started the car and tore out of the parking lot, squealing the tires.

  CHAPTER 23

  I had lost an entire month. Day and night meant nothing to me during that time, it was one big blur. Nothing could stop the pain. Nothing could fill the hole. I wasn’t suicidal, yet I had no reason to go on. I simply existed. In many ways, the time lost was inconsequential to the vacuum left by my Mom and Luke.

  How had Tara managed? I realize Luke didn’t mean the same to her, but still. I would have to talk to her, figure out how she managed. Lord knows I had been no help to her. It took every ounce of my energy to make myself go forward.

  I had lost a month of classes, there was no way to recover from that and after talking to my professors, I withdrew from school. In so doing, I forfeited my scholarship. There was no help for it because if I had not withdrawn, I would have received failing grades. So close, but still not finishing my goal. Another devastating blow that on its own would have been enough to send me into a self-pity spiral for weeks.

  I went to the gym to get back into my training. I felt tired and weak. My strength was gone; I couldn’t even finish a fifteen-minute cardio workout. My stamina just was not there. It was a slap in my face, the current reigning division MMA champion and I couldn’t even finish fifteen minutes on an elliptical. As I was leaving, my coach stopped me.

  “Roxy?”

  “Hey Aaron.” I said weakly.

  “Where the hell you and Luke been?” He was beyond pissed. I should have recognized the body posture. If I had been in a right frame of mind, I would have.

  “Aaron, Luke was killed in a plane crash.” My eyes burned. I kept telling myself ‘keep it together’ as I blinked back the tears that threated to spill forth.

  “What?” He questioned, as if I was making it up.

  I nodded. “I’ll, uh, bring you a death certificate.”

  He pulled me into his office and closed the door. “Roxy, I had no idea.” He raked his hands in his hair. “Man I had no idea.” He sat, shaking his head. “Last I saw you; you were heading home to see your Mom. How is she?”

  My head dropped a little lower. I was upset that nobody from the gym had bothered to call us or find out what was going on. “She died. Then Luke’s plane crashed.”

  “Oh my God! Roxy, are you ok? Damn! No wonder I haven’t seen you. I had no idea.” He shook his head biting his lower lip for a few seconds looking off out the window before turning back to me. “Maybe we can still pull this out. You missed two matches, as did Luke. You were both let go, but I can smooth things over for Luke’s case - get me that death certificate and we will get his fully funded contract. There is a liability clause that if anything happens to him, you are awarded the balance of his contracted funds. It will be retroactive, which will nullify the reasons for contract cancellation.

  For you, if you can do the match tomorrow, you will be reinstated. I’m certain that when I present the case - explain why you missed, they’ll be lenient under the extenuating circumstances.” He looked down going through the file he had pulled from his drawer.

  “I can’t.” There was no way I could physically or emotionally do a match; I couldn’t even do fifteen minutes of do the cardio. “I’m not in shape.”

  “You don’t have to win, just show up.” He never looked up.

  I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, head in my hand. “I can’t. She’ll kill me. I need at least a month to get back in shape.” Plus, there was Tara. What good would it do her for me to go to a match knowing that it would just be a beat-down?

  He crossed his arms in that forceful ‘I know better, you will do this’ look he gets. I think it was the first time he got a good look at me. I was a mess. Thin, frail looking. My skin was ashy. I knew I looked bad - hell, I felt one step away from death . . . which, at this point, would be welcomed.

  Except for Tara, I had to keep going. As pathetic as it was, I was all she had left. I had to pull myself up from this. I saw it in his eyes, the Moment he realized just how much weight and muscle I had lost. I was not a champion sitting there, but rather a sad broken girl with broken dreams.

  “I’m sorry. Sorry, Roxy. I wish there was something I could do. I mean, you can train and get back to champ, but I don’t see the fire in your eyes anymore. They won’t offer you a new contract since you have defaulted on this one. I’ll see what I can do to get this month’s pay at least.”

  We talked for another half hour. He even tried to convince me to take the beating, knowing that I would heal but even he could see that my fire, my passion was gone. There was still that part of me, my pride that wouldn’t just allow me to step in the ring as a punching bag though. I left there defeated in more ways than losing a match, or my title. I was beaten; life just wouldn’t give Roxanne Winters a break, except to break my back.

  I stopped in at Subway for some lunch using my free pass, one of the benefi
ts of my former title. They had already revoked it. DAMN! I walked out frustrated yet again.

  I wandered down the street aimlessly. I came to a lounge, Smoked Velvet. It was a popular hangout for the art and music students. It didn’t draw the crowds that the club across town that hosted the rock bands did, but it was a great place for a date. Luke and I had gone there when one of his friends performed. My heart sank - Luke. I found myself pushing in the door and seated before I realized what I had done.

  I ordered a Manhattan and a sandwich. I dug out the little bit of cash I had. The server seated me in the same booth where we had had our date. I nursed my drink while I picked at the sandwich, lost. I had nothing, and I thought I had hit rock bottom before. Tears silently flowed down my cheeks, leaving a stinging trail behind as I stared off into nothing. A middle-aged stocky man walked up to the booth.

  “What’s your story?” He sat down uninvited.

  “Pardon me?” I asked a little put out.

  “Your story. You know, why is a pretty girl like you sitting in my club crying, alone.” He motioned to the waitress to bring his drink. Apparently, he planned to stay.

  “Your club? Do . . . Do you want me to leave?”

  “NO. Not at all.” He flipped a business card to me. “Mike O’Neal. I own this joint. I ain’t asking you to leave, I want to know your story.” He accepted his drink and waited for me to begin.

  I thought about it as I chewed a bite of my sandwich. My chin quivering a bit in uncertainty then I said “What the hell?” I told him everything. It didn’t matter, I didn’t know him, and he didn’t know me.

  I would probably never see him again, so if he judged me I didn’t care. I did not leave out details: the cancer, Mom’s death, the fight with dad, Luke’s death, losing my scholarship, the sponsorship, failing my sister - all of it. Finally, when I had emptied it all out he took my hand in his. It wasn’t weird like a creeper, but like a father, a father I had always wanted that was never there.

  “Doll, you’ve had a rough deal. I had a daughter, about your age. She was killed in a car wreck four years ago. You need a friend and if you want to talk, my door is open. Now, if you want a job I could really use the help.

  “Really?” I swiped at my tears.

  He grinned. “Can you start tomorrow?”

  “Yes, I can!”

  “No, it’s Mike. Just Mike. If you piss me off, it’s Mr. O’Neal. Your uniform is black pants and a club tee.”

  When I walked out, there was a single ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds. It broke through the clouds that was my life as well.

  CHAPTER 24

  I worked with Mike for about six months before he gave Tara a job as well. She finished her semester on time and managed to keep her grades up. I was so proud of my sister.

  In those six months, I slowly had gained some weight back. I never thought I would be too thin but when I woke from my grieving, I looked terrible. I was currently at the point where my clothes were getting a little tight. I had gone back to the gym and built up to a thirty-minute workout. I felt good with my body. I was firm and toned, if not a little plump. However, the passion I once had for the fighting was gone.

  Working as many hours as Mike would give me, I managed to catch up on our bills before the sale of Mom’s house went through. Tara and Devon managed to take care of the rest of the house while I lay in my bed wallowing in my pit. Mom’s lawyer worked with Tara and me to invest most of our money, leaving us a tidy sum to have available for college expenses and whatever we needed. Tara suggested that I begin seeing a counselor to get over my depression. It really helped in many ways, but I couldn’t quite get over the heartache I felt since Luke was gone. I never had the chance to say goodbye.

  I fell into the habit of working the evening shift since I didn’t have a social life. Friday and Saturday nights were crowded. Mike had recently decided to have a karaoke night a couple times a month. It seemed to be a huge hit, drawing a large crowd into the Smoked Velvet.

  A couple of patrons bought me drinks trying to get me to ‘lighten up’. I accepted the drinks and continued working. Mike bought me a couple rounds. Nobody seemed to understand that staying busy took my mind off the date, or maybe nobody knew that it would have been my wedding day.

  The drinks took the edge off while I worked. Towards the end, a couple of the college guys that were Luke’s friends challenged me. One of them called me chicken and well, I had to do it. I dried my hands and removed my apron. Slamming two fingers of scotch, I jabbed at the page and selected “The Baddest Blues”.

  I had not sang in ages, but I didn’t care. It was all heart. I poured myself into that song as others might drown their sorrows in a bottle. I drew every ounce of pain and anguish I had felt since my life went to hell. I gave everything of myself not caring what I sounded like, not caring if anyone was even listening. My eyes were closed most of the time seeing Luke’s face just before boarding that plane.

  “When your baby leave you, going to break your heart in two.

  I said when your baby leave you; there ain’t nothin’, nothin' that you can do.

  I cried myself a river, but it won’t take me back to you.

  That’s the baddest blues, the baddest blues, I ever know.

  When he’s gone, gone, gone, and he ain't never comin’ back again.

  He done left me all alone, and he ain’t never comin’ back again.

  I cried myself a river, but it didn’t take me back to him.

  That’s the baddest blues, the baddest blues, I ever know.

  My baby left me, gone to the big club in the sky.

  He swore he’d never leave me, but that was the biggest lie.

  He took part of me with him, a part I can never get back.

  Now that part of my heart is bleeding, bleeding blue and black.

  I cried myself a river, but it didn’t take me back, no, no no,

  no it didn’t take me back, ain’t never eva’ eva’ gonna take me back to him.

  That’s the baddest blues, the baddest blues, I said the baddest blues . . .

  I ever know.”

  I think the booze helped stave off the tears or else I had just cried myself out already. It felt good to just cut loose and pour the soulful melody out. I could hear Etta James in my head, B. B. King with Lucille on the riffs. When the song ended and I opened my eyes, there was no applause, only silence. I sighed and walked off the stage. Back to work, stopping at my friend’s table to collect their bet. They stared at me handing over the twenty with their mouths gaping.

  That was the last straw, the last humiliation I could take. I grabbed the twenty and walked out the back door. I grabbed a bottle of Jack on my way out and took off walking. I went to the park where Luke and I would often work out together and sat under the tree where we sometimes studied. One specific time came to my mind, a fall day when we laughed together.

  I cried my goodbyes to Luke, remembering all the good times we had. He wouldn’t want me to fail or give up. I had been doing a lot of that lately. I picked myself up and staggered back to my apartment. For the first time since he died, I didn’t sleep in his clothes. I slipped on my own pajamas and made the conscious decision that I would start over.

  CHAPTER 25

  Sirens blared, loud sirens going off that caused instant stabbing pain inside my head. A chain reaction of explosions that I just knew was killing brain cells. I covered my head with the blanket, praying for it to stop. After a few seconds it did but then restarted a few minutes later. It woke me enough to have to use the bathroom. As I staggered down the hall, I realized it wasn’t sirens but rather my phone.

  It took a concerted effort to read my phone, finally just hitting replay on my voice messages.

  “Roxy this is Mike, I need you to come in at two. It’s eleven and I haven’t heard back. Are you there?” There was a beep then another message.

  “Roxanne! I really need you to get up. You have to be here at two. Call me! That’s it I’m c
oming over if you haven’t called me back by noon.” Again, there was a beep. Loud emphasis on the word you have to.

  It rang again in my hand “Hello?”

  “Thank God. You’re finally up.”

  “Finally? What the heck Mike, I’m not scheduled till seven.” I searched the refrigerator while talking.

  “It’s nearly noon, I need you here by two. Well, before that actually. Change of plans, stuff happens you know. Tell you what; I’ll be there in half an hour to pick you up.”

  It figured that when I had a hangover Carly would skip her shift. “No Mike I can be there.”

  “You won’t regret it.”

  “I already do.” I yelled into the phone.

  I could hear him laugh on the other end. “I’ll be there in a half an hour. You’re in no shape to drive.” He hung up on me. I closed the fridge empty handed and went to shower.

  At twelve thirty, there was pounding on my door. “Ugh. For the love of God Mike stop it!” I screamed as I opened the door.

  He stood there grinning like a kid with a new toy. “Wanted to make sure you hadn’t gone back to bed.” He shoved a bag of bagels and a large coffee at me. “You’re going to like this Roxy.”

  I groaned as he followed me to the kitchen. Coffee was little consolation for the explosion in my head.

  “Tara around? She can come in with you as well.”

  “I think she’s in class.” Then I looked at the clock. “Oh, well she should be back any minute.

  “Good, good!” Mike was agitated. I had not seen him this excited since, well, never.

  I listened to him ramble on about getting the band together. I envisioned a group of middle-aged men like in that movie “Wild Hogs”. I couldn’t help but smile. There was a gleam in Mike’s eye that I hadn’t seen before. “What’s going on Mike?” I tore off a hunk of bagel and chewed.