Remember Me: Music For The Heart: Book 4

by Starr, Faith

  He tipped his chin up. “Shoot.”

  “Am I to assume you’re the type who enjoys hanging out in these types of places?”

  “I’m here with my friends.”

  Excuses. Excuses.

  “I choose where I want to go with mine.”

  Not really. Not anymore. And stop being so nasty. He’s trying to be nice.

  He smirked. “Who’s judging now?”

  “Not judging. Keeping it real is all.”

  Breathe.

  Breathe some more.

  “Point made. Will I see you at the center tomorrow?”

  I hoped so. It would give me something to look forward to.

  “Do you plan on visiting your grandfather?”

  “As much as I can while I’m in town.”

  “Then I’ll see you. I work until four.”

  “I’ll make sure to come before four then.”

  Wow. What dimples he has. So dreamy.

  He put his hand out for me to pass in front of him. “Ladies first.”

  “Thank you.”

  The man probably only pretended to be polite so he could watch my ass when I walked away. So why not give him a show? Off I went, with a bit more oomph to my hips than usual, especially at the club where I was usually frigid.

  The rest of the night flew by. Ryan and his buddies stuck around until about one. My shift ended at two. Isabella, a hostess, and Dena, the server who had taken care of their table, took off with them. One of Ryan’s friends was sandwiched between them with one arm slung over each woman’s shoulder. Gang bang? Would it matter if it was? Four guys, two girls. Trading off?

  My mind conjured up many different scenarios. All of them disheartening if they included Ryan.

  Either way, I knew I’d hear about the girls’ sexcapades during my next shift at the club. They were the walking versions of the National Enquirer. I only prayed their bedroom antics didn’t include Ryan. He had said I didn’t seem like the type to work at the club. Well, he didn’t seem like the type to bring strippers home with him. Who was I kidding? The guy could’ve hired paid escorts on a nightly basis. What the hell did I know when it involved Ryan? Nothing. That’s what.

  At two on the nose, I flew out the door. The streets leading to the house were dark. I’d have to remind the girls to be more mindful about where they parked on the driveway. They had barely left any room for my car, which ended up being parked on the swale.

  The den light provided enough brightness for me to see the staircase. I went upstairs, straight to the bathroom to shower and wash off the fingerprints of gross, sweaty men. I didn’t understand the lack of respect many of the customers showed the female staff. We weren’t hookers, contrary to what many of them thought. They couldn’t touch us without our permission. It infuriated me.

  Clean and dressed in my pj’s, I slid into my bed, utterly exhausted. My present work schedule had me running ragged. Self-care had become minimal.

  The situation is temporary and you’re doing it for the right reason.

  These words were on a constant loop in my mind.

  My eyes closed within minutes of my head hitting the pillow. They quickly opened when screaming voices in the hallway woke me. I reached for my phone on the night table next to my bed and clicked it on. Shit! Seven-thirty.

  Four and a half hours of sleep would have to do. Since I was up and it was early, I figured I’d take a run then get dressed for work. I didn’t care what was happening outside my bedroom door. Drama and I were like oil and water. This house had an abundance of it; therefore, I kept my interactions with my roommates to a minimum.

  I threw on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. By the time I slipped into the bathroom to wash up, things were quiet. I trotted down the stairs and over to the kitchen to fill my water bottle from the dispenser on the fridge door.

  “Don’t touch my stuff!” Lourdes shouted.

  So much for peace and quiet.

  “Girls, please. It’s too early for this nonsense. I don’t want to be your mother.” Nikki may not have wanted to sound maternal, but she did. “Lourdes, don’t touch other people’s shit. You hate it when people touch yours and have made that perfectly clear. If you want to borrow something, ask for permission. It’s a simple concept.”

  None of them acknowledged me filling my bottle or putting on my sneakers. They knew better than to ask my opinion anyway. I never got involved in their squabbles. I left them to finish duking it out and hit the pavement.

  The warmth of the sun wasn’t comforting. It felt hotter than usual. Springtime usually brought in perfect beach weather. Not today. I was drenched in sweat and hadn’t even reached the end of the block.

  Clocking my time, I finished two miles at my usual pace. Well done, especially with the lack of sleep.

  The park was empty. I preferred to get in and out before the moms and toddlers showed up. There were a few small hilly areas of grass that I loved to meditate on.

  I sat in the center of the tallest hill and played spa music on my phone. I set the device on my lap, folded my legs pretzel-style, and rested my hands on my thighs. Slowly, I inhaled, allowing the fresh air, what little there was with the high humidity, to enter my lungs. I released all the tension filling me into the universe. My eyelids drifted downward as I got lost in a deep, relaxed state.

  Upon returning to the here and now, I felt more at peace. I stood and stretched, then walked back to the house. My meditation had taken a bit longer than usual, so I was running late.

  Bumping into Ryan at the club still weighed heavily on my mind. I didn’t want him mentioning anything about it at the center. I sure hoped he would have more common sense than to bring it up. Thank God he hadn’t come to the club on a Sunday. That was for damn sure.

  My girl, Carly, called me during my drive to the center.

  “Hey, girl. What’s up?”

  “I’m driving to work. What are you up to?” I asked.

  The red light allowed me to add a touch more lip gloss. I wasn’t sure when Ryan would be making an appearance and wanted to look my best without him noticing the effort.

  “About five-fix. Pathetically, that’s with me wearing three-inch heels.”

  I chuckled at her sarcasm. “I hear you. Would be nice, huh?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Sure would. Those damn models with their long legs.”

  We both giggled.

  “It’s my planning period, so thought I’d check in.”

  Carly was an adorable petite blonde who worked with high-risk middle schoolers. It amazed me how someone so soft-spoken and gentle by nature worked with such an aggressive group of kids. She’d told me stories about how she’d have to physically restrain them and had gotten injured on more than a handful of occasions by students off their meds or throwing hissy fits in her class.

  “I’m glad you did. You don’t sound happy, though. What’s really going on?”

  “Maddie and I had a fight last night. She was sleeping when I left this morning, so we still haven’t spoken about it.”

  “What was the fight about?”

  “Her insecurity again. It drives me nuts. She’s jealous of my friendship with a teacher at my school. The girl’s my frickin’ coworker. Maddie expects me not to speak to any other women.”

  “Tell her how you feel.”

  “How many times can we have the same conversation? It’s exhausting. I’m allowed to have girlfriends who are friends.”

  “Like me.” Hopefully, Maddie didn’t consider me a threat. That would suck.

  “Exactly. Like you.”

  “Have another heart-to-heart with her. You guys are in a relationship. There has to be mutual trust.”

  “Thank you. That’s what I keep telling her. I have no issue with her being friends with whoever she wants. I don’t own her.”

  “Reiturate that.”

  “Maybe if I say it differently, she’ll get it.” She grunted. “Grrr. I hate bringing tension from home with me to work. It’s not fair to
my students. They feed off my energy. Either way, it’ll have to wait until later because I don’t want to get into a heavy conversation over the phone.”

  “I agree with that. I know it’s hard but try to remain present with your students. You can deal with Maddie later.”

  “Last night, in the middle of our discussion, she rolled onto her side, pulled the blanket over her head, and said good-night. So childish.”

  “You can’t change her behavior or her reactions to yours. They are what they are. Let yours speak for themselves. Ultimately, you have to decide if you can deal with this ongoing issue or not.”

  “It’s hard because I love her but she’s so high maintenance emotionally.”

  “Aren’t we all?”

  Carly laughed. “That we are. Oh, did I tell you Elliott is moving out of the apartment?”

  “He is? Why? I thought you all got along.”

  “We do. He’s been dating the same guy for a few months. He’s barely ever home. His new beau asked him to move in with him. Maddie and I will have to find someone else to rent his room because bills still need to be paid. It’s not going to be easy to find a good candidate when we have such strict requirements. Well, Maddie has them. I’m more open-minded.”

  “What exactly are the requirements?”

  “I meant to say requirement. The roommate must be a gay male. Period.”

  “Why does he have to be gay? Neither of you are attracted to straight guys.”

  “Yeah, but straight guys bring girls home.”

  “Heterosexual girls.”

  “You’d be surprised how many are bi. Besides, Maddie thinks one would get off on living with two women who sleep together. And by that, I don’t mean the act of sleeping.”

  “Thanks for the clarification. I wouldn’t have figured that out.”

  She chuckled.

  “And another lesbian is out of the question. So that pretty much eliminates most potential roommates.”

  “I agree.”

  “We still have about two weeks. It gives us some time to ask around.”

  “Good luck.”

  “Thanks. Enough about me. How are you doing?”

  “Fine. Working as usual.”

  “Don’t lose yourself so much in work that you stop taking care of yourself.”

  “I hear you. I’m trying to balance it all as best as I can.”

  “That’s all we can do.”

  “Yup. One day at a time.”

  “All right, it’s back to grading papers. Hope I didn’t put you in a bad mood. I felt the urge to vent.”

  “No problem. Glad I could be here for you. We’ll speak soon.”

  I disconnected the call, contemplating the words I had spoken—that I’m fine. I had periods of inner peace, which said wonders about my spiritual growth because in the past I’d had none. As the days passed, though, I felt those incidences becoming more sporadic, less frequent, which scared the hell out of me because I knew the consequences of not taking care of myself. I didn’t want to go down that road again. Something had to give. The issue was nothing in my current situation could be given up, which left me in a quandary of sorts. The temporary conditions in my life had no end date in sight. That’s what made them so challenging. It was always easier to know the pot at the end of the rainbow was getting closer. At this point, I couldn’t even see the rainbow.

  5

  Ryan

  “I saw grandpa yesterday.”

  “Did he recognize you?” my mom asked over the phone.

  “He sure did.” What an incredible feeling to be able to say that to her. “He introduced me to the activity teacher as his grandson too.”

  “That’s wonderful. But don’t get your hopes up about it. Today he might not know who you are.”

  She had forever been the type to view the cup as half empty. It pissed me off because I was the total opposite. I should have worked out prior to calling her to prepare myself for her doom and gloom. She had a knack for putting me in a foul mood.

  “I prefer to go on Sundays because there’s not much entertainment for the residents. Grandpa and I do puzzles together, color, and other such things.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me he was in such bad shape?”

  “I haven’t kept anything from you. When you ask, I tell. He has his good days and his bad days. Less good ones now than before.”

  “It sucks to see him so lost and confused.”

  “Tell me about it. How do you think I feel? He’s my father. It means a lot to me that you’re planning to spend time with him while you’re in town.”

  Why wouldn’t I? My grandfather was the most important man in my life. When everything had gone to shit at home, he had thrown me a life preserver. The sole family member who remained sane and rational in an anything but situation. I would do whatever I could for him.

  “Do me a favor, when you’re there please keep an eye on things. The aides seem kind of lazy,” she requested.

  “Will do.”

  “Now, about the garage…”

  “Don’t start this again.” My hand balled into a fist. I got a sudden urge to pound the Everlast bag hanging in front of me.

  “Ryan, you’re a grown man. A famous rock star now. Why can’t you and the guys rehearse in a studio instead?”

  The words rock star came out in such an angered tone. She hated the fact that music had become my profession, my livelihood. Even when it afforded her the Mercedes she currently drove.

  “We record and mix in a studio. You’re fully aware how strongly we feel about the garage. It’s our sacred space.”

  “That’s something we need to discuss in more detail. Can you come by later today after your visit with grandpa?”

  “Why? What’s going on?” She only wanted me to visit when something was wrong.

  “I’d rather speak to you in person. Dad should be home by five-thirty. I’ll make dinner.”

  “You know it’s unfair to say something like that and then not give me a hint about what you want to talk about. Now I’m going to be wondering about it all day.”

  “Don’t make a big deal out of nothing. Just come over later.”

  “Mom.”

  “Bye, Ryan.”

  No, “I love you.” No, “I can’t wait to see you.” A mere, “Bye, Ryan.” Same as every other fucking time.

  My punching bag took a hell of a beating as a result of that unproductive conversation. Thinking about what she had to tell me only made me hit the darn thing harder. I was dripping in sweat and continued to beat the shit out of the black bag.

  Checking my phone, I figured I should shower and get going if I wanted to see Lizzie. That motivator alone had me smiling. I didn’t know what it was about her, but she occupied my thoughts, especially the curiosity I had about why she was working at Club D’s.

  A pit-stop at a drive-thru was made during my ride to the center. I knew my grandfather loved hamburgers and French fries, so figured I would treat him to a favorite for lunch. I got myself a double burger, sans fries.

  When I entered the memory center, Lizzie was playing a trivia game with the group. This I had to see. My mother had mentioned that with the Alzheimer’s population, old memories remained intact. It was the newer ones that got lost.

  Lizzie’s eyes caught mine when I joined everyone in the den area where they were sitting. The smile she gave me threw me off balance. Just, wow.

  She had on slacks with a monogrammed polo that had the name of the center embroidered on the small pocket covering her heart. I preferred this uniform over the one she’d sported at the club. On any other server, that skimpy skirt and tight-ass shirt looked hot. On Lizzie, it did too, but for some idiotic reason, I had a protective instinct when it came to her, which was the most insane thing ever since we were basically strangers.

  My grandpa’s face lit up upon seeing me. He reached his arms out to give me a hug. I leaned down so he didn’t have to stand. Since he had residents sitting on both sides of him, I s
canned the room for an empty chair.

  “Why don’t you help me out, Ryan?” Lizzie pointed to a folding chair leaning against the wall behind her.

  That solved my chair problem.

  “Sure.”

  “Okay, everyone, Morris’s grandson, Ryan, is going to join us. Can you say hi to Ryan?”

  “Hello. Hello. Hello.”

  Lizzie leaned in and whispered, “That’s Irma. Her favorite word is hello. That’s pretty much all she says. If you say hi back, she’ll be a happy camper.”

  “Hello.” I greeted the woman with a slight wave. She beamed, only to repeat the word. I made eyes with Lizzie for assistance because I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to say it back.

  “It’s fine. You acknowledged her. That’s all she wants.”

  Being Irma was grinning, I took Lizzie’s word for it. The rest of the group gave me blank stares and a couple of waves.

  “Let’s move on to the next question?” Lizzie held a card in front of her and read the words on it. “Who knows who painted the Mona Lisa?”

  An older woman sitting in a wheelchair behind the couches provided the answer without hesitation. “Da Vinci.”

  “She’s our trivia queen,” Lizzie informed me. “You’re right, Bonnie. Great job. Here’s another one. Who was the president during the Civil War?”

  “Lincoln,” Bonnie replied.

  Well, I’ll be damned.

  Lizzie had been right about Bonnie. The woman stole the show by answering all of the questions—pretty much the only participant. The others didn’t seem to mind that they were passively involved in the game. Some of them napped while others clapped for her, even on the rare occasion when she was incorrect. It was a supportive group all around.

  When the game ended, the aides assisted the residents to the tables for lunch.

  “I see you brought food for your grandpa. That was so thoughtful.” Lizzie pointed to the bags I had placed on the floor next to my chair.

  “My grandpa is a meat and potatoes kind of guy. I brought him a burger and fries.”

  “I’m sure he’ll love it. Why don’t you help him over to a table? You don’t have to wait for the others to start eating. Ooh, maybe you could play some music for us after lunch. What do you think?”