Remember Me: Music For The Heart: Book 4

by Starr, Faith

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Does it have to do with that girl you’ve been seeing?”

  “Correction: was seeing.”

  “Was. It’s history? That was fast.”

  “Whatever,” I shrugged, not wanting to get into it.

  “Two dates is still a record for you. Consider it emotional growth.”

  “Fuck off.”

  “That’s twice you’ve said that in less than a minute. Want to talk about it?”

  “No, Dr. Phil. I don’t.”

  “Fine. Stay pissed. But please be in a better mood when we mix the song later.”

  “I’ll try.”

  We hung up.

  Nick:You left early last night. Whassup?

  “Leave me alone!” I screamed to everybody and their mother in the confines of my home gym.

  Jonas:What’s up, ketchup? You ran off like a girl last night. WTF?

  The three of them had to be together, finding it funny to try and bust my balls. Well, fuck them and the horse they rode in on. I didn’t respond to either text. They’d see me soon enough at the studio.

  A few more hits to the bag and I took a shower. I had to save what little energy I had left to get through the rest of the day.

  Dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt, I took off to visit my grandfather. I had planned on skipping out, but it wasn’t fair to him to miss out on a visit because of my foul mood even though I knew deep down he wouldn’t remember seeing me.

  Once the guys and I toured again, it would be a while before I could see him, and he was going downhill fast. The worst part was it was afternoon, which meant he would have that sunning thing going on, or whatever the fuck Lizzie called it when residents got irritable and cranky late in the day.

  Why my heart pounded when I parked the car and signed in at the check-in desk at the center, I had no idea. I had nothing to feel uncomfortable about. Maybe it was the disappointment and anger flowing through my veins.

  The residents were having a snack. I spotted my grandfather sitting at a table with a few other men. He saw me and sat taller, grinning. He may not have known my name, but I knew in his heart he knew it was me. That had to count for something and made me feel better that I was visiting him.

  “Hey, Gramps. I see you’ve got chocolate chip cookies.” From what I’d noticed, the center fed the residents a shitload of sugar. It made me wonder if it was a necessary evil for this population because they always seemed to be eating it. I myself would think a healthier diet would be more beneficial, but hey, at this point in the game what did it matter? Let the group live it up as best they could.

  My grandfather had an empty seat next to him, so I took it. Scanning the room, Lizzie was nowhere in sight. Odd because she was usually assisting with snacks.

  Maybe she’s on her lunch break.

  Who cares where she is? She’s a fucking stripper and didn’t tell you!

  Things weren’t adding up right. I had spent quality time with the woman. She would have told me. Wouldn’t she have?

  My grandpa’s cookies sat on his small dish. The man loved cookies—any shape, flavor, or size.

  “Don’t you want your cookies, Gramps?”

  He smiled in response. Did he have any clue what I was asking?

  I took a cookie from his plate and held it in front of his mouth. He shook his head, indicating he didn’t want it. How strange. Oh well, I’d tried.

  A resident at the next table folding cloth napkins into perfect squares caught my attention. She had a neat pile of them.

  “Do you want to fold napkins with your grandpa?” one of the aides passing by asked me.

  “Uh… yeah, sure. Is that something they enjoy?”

  “Very much so.”

  “Then yes, please bring us some napkins.”

  She retrieved a handful from a laundry basket and returned with an assortment of cloth napkins which she placed on the table in front of my grandfather. I demonstrated with the first one to show him what to do. Not that he required assistance. He immediately went into folding mode, putting my attempts to shame.

  The aide passed by again.

  “Excuse me.”

  She stopped. “Yes?”

  “Is Lizzie around?”

  “No. She left early today.”

  Hmm. “Is she okay?”

  The tall Haitian woman shrugged. “She didn’t say.”

  Why did I care? Yet I did.

  I plucked my phone out of my pocket and shot her a text.

  Ryan:At the center. Heard you left early. You okay?

  The fluttering dots appeared.

  They disappeared.

  The aide moved on to the next table where she took the neatly stacked cloth napkins the woman had worked so diligently to fold and shook them out, only to drop them in front of the lady again. Even crazier was that the resident didn’t care. She started folding all over again. Christ. I’d have been pissed. Try, was pissed on her behalf.

  My grandpa continued to busily make squares. I assisted, having nothing else to do. I kept peering at my phone to see if Lizzie would respond.

  About fifteen minutes later, she did.

  Lizzie:Wasn’t feeling well. Thanks for checking in. I appreciate it.

  Ryan:Are you sick?

  Lizzie:That’s a loaded question.

  Ryan:Care to share the simple answer?

  Lizzie:I don’t think there is one.

  Ryan:I’m open to listening either way.

  Lizzie:Then I’m willing to share.

  Ryan:Want to get coffee? I have to be at the studio at six.

  Lizzie:And I have to be at the club at seven.

  Ryan:I’ll head over now.

  Lizzie: Okay. I’ll get dressed.

  Ryan:See you soon.

  I gave my grandfather a kiss on the cheek and left him with his napkins. He seemed perfectly content which made me feel better about leaving after such a short visit. Sadly, without Lizzie in the room, it wasn’t all that thrilling to be there. The place resembled a morgue. An awful word to compare it to, but it was the reality of the situation. Half of the people were slouched over in their wheelchairs—sleeping, waiting for the end to come and bring them solace and peace.

  About twenty minutes later, I was parked in Lizzie’s driveway. I thought about texting her but changed my mind and went to the door. A different roommate answered.

  “Hi. You must be Ryan. I’m Lourdes, one of Lizzie’s roommates. She told me you’d be coming by. You can wait in the living room if you want.” She made space for me to enter. “She should be down soon. In case you were wondering, all of us in the house are big fans.”

  So I’d heard from the other roomies. And no, I wasn’t wondering.

  Be polite.

  “Thanks.”

  During my stroll to the living room, I got a better view of the house. A large rectangular table made up the dining room. The den had a few worn-in leather couches that had seen better days. It was nothing fancy. Spiritual sayings were framed and hung all over the walls. I remembered Lizzie saying she enjoyed meditating. Maybe her roommates were into that spiritual stuff too.

  “Please, have a seat.” Lourdes pointed to the couch.

  Another woman bounded down the stairs. “I’m going to a meeting.” She stopped in her tracks upon seeing me. She must’ve thought Lourdes was solo in the room. “Ryan Josephs? Holy shit. I’m Shayla, one of Lizzie’s roommates.”

  The roommates were crawling out of the woodwork.

  I rose and acknowledged her. “Nice to meet you, Shayla.” Camilla had told me and the guys early on that if we repeated a name back to someone upon introduction, it would help us to remember it better.

  “The pleasure is all mine. Where’s the rest of the band?”

  Did she think we only traveled in a pack?

  “Not sure. We all do our own thing.”

  “That’s too bad. That Nick is something. You should bring him by. Jo
nas too. Hell, bring Mason along with them and we’ll make it a party.” She giggled.

  Lizzie trotted down the stairs, halting on the step behind her roommate. “Shayla!”

  Shayla glanced up at her. “What? I was just introducing myself.”

  Lizzie rolled her eyes. She shooed Shayla forward so she could continue her journey downward.

  “Nice meeting you, Ryan.” Shayla didn’t say a word to anybody else. She slipped on a pair of flip-flops and left the house.

  The smile on Lizzie’s face didn’t light up her eyes. The brightness was dimmed. They were also puffy and red. She had definitely been crying. I wanted to pull her in my arms and comfort her but refrained. I was still upset even though, realistically speaking, I had no right to be. But my feelings were what they were, and I was entitled to them.

  “Ready to head out?”

  No words. A simple nod. That was all I got from her.

  “It was nice meeting you, Lourdes.” I gave the girl a slight wave, put my hand against Lizzie’s back, and ushered her outside to my car.

  “Would you mind if we went somewhere quiet?”

  “A coffee shop is quiet, no?” At least I had thought so.

  “I mean a quiet place with no people around.”

  Ah, she wanted us to be alone so we could talk.

  “Sure. Is there any place in particular you’d like to go?”

  “There is. There might be some kids running around, though.”

  “I thought you wanted to go to a quiet place with no people around?”

  “Kids don’t count. They’re full of life. I have no issue if some are there.”

  Kids? Where the hell did she want me to take her? And damn, talk about a doom and gloom mood she was in. Not that I was, by any stretch of the imagination, a ray of sunshine.

  Once out of the driveway I said, “Tell me where to go.”

  We ended up at a park not far from her house. She had been correct. There were kids, a shitload of them, all over the place.

  “This is where you want to talk? It’s hardly quiet, and there’s a ton of people.”

  “I wanted to bring you to my meditation spot.”

  I’d hardly call it a place of peace.

  With the engine shut down, I got out of the car and assisted her out. I reached for a baseball cap in the backseat and threw it on.

  Lizzie and I maneuvered around the play structures to the side of the park where there were grassy hills. Kids ran up and rolled down the sides of them. Seeing children laughing and having fun eased my tension. Maybe it was a place of peace after all.

  Forget my previous thought. I cringed from the piercing wails of a toddler whose mother was putting him in his stroller. Lizzie didn’t seem affected by it.

  The two of us marched to the top of one of the hills and took a seat. Kids ran around us, ignoring us sitting there, taking up space. Their mothers and nannies were too busy gossiping on the benches, drinking fancy coffee, to pay us any mind either.

  Lizzie chewed on her bottom lip. She didn’t speak, so I figured I would. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “It’s not what you think.” Her gaze flicked to mine then out toward the grassy area.

  “Then what is it?”

  She sighed. Her body slouched. She didn’t give me an iota of face-to-face. “On Sunday nights the club has what is known as Staffer Sunday. It’s a night when the servers who aren’t dancers do a short performance, without nudity.” She put her hand out to emphasize that point.

  I interrupted. “If you ask me, it’s pretty damn close to it.”

  Her head fell forward, and tears trailed down her cheeks.

  Nice move, Josephs.

  I inched closer to her until our thighs touched and I put my arm around her. She rested her head on my shoulder.

  “I dread doing it but that one night alone pays my portion of the rent along with some of my other bills.”

  “Isn’t there something else you could do instead of waltzing around barely dressed in front of a group of desperate assholes?”

  She sat upright, and I removed my arm from around her. “You don’t have to rub it in. I already feel sick about it.”

  “Then why are you doing it?”

  “Because not everyone has the luxury of touring the country for thousands of fans, Ryan. Regular people have to do what they can to get by.”

  “A lot of musicians, if not most, do more than struggle during their rise to fame. So please don’t make it sound like I had it so easy. At least I can sleep at night and keep my self-respect intact.”

  Her muscles tensed. “That’s both harsh and judgmental. You know what? This was a mistake. Can you please take me home?” She went to rise. I stopped her.

  “I’m sorry. I’m just pissed about the situation. Maybe if I’d known, I would’ve been better prepared to deal with it. To see you flaunting your body on a stage with men reaching for you, groping you, and shoving bills in your underwear, shocked the hell out of me.”

  “I see you came with the intention of making me feel worse. Mission accomplished. I get it. You’re angry. I didn’t tell you because I would never want you to view me in that light. But it is what it is. The reality of the situation is I am flaunting my half-naked body in front of strange men for money. Sadly, these are my current circumstances. You can either accept them and be a part of my life or not. It’s your choice.”

  Humph. I hated ultimatums.

  My agitation had come back with a vengeance.

  “It’s bad enough seeing you practically naked serving drinks to men trying to cop a feel but last night? Up on that stage… It infuriated me to the point I left the club and took an Uber home. I didn’t even tell the guys I was leaving. I gave Mason one text to let him know I was alive. Other than that, I ignored their constant texts and calls. I couldn’t be around anyone. This morning I worked out for two hours. So when you say I’m angry, you’re right.”

  “What you want me to say?” She threw her hands up.

  Breathing deeply, I clasped my fingers behind my head and watched the kids frolicking in the grass, still rolling down the hills. “I don’t know. I’m sorry for making you feel bad. Contrary to what you might think, that wasn’t my intention. It was hard for me to see other men fawning all over you, especially after Saturday night and more so, Sunday morning.”

  “The men at the club mean nothing to me. Same as you say groupies mean nothing to you. At least in my situation I have a reason for my behavior, and earn money doing it.”

  “By letting strangers touch you?”

  “For the sole purpose of giving me cash. No other touching is permitted.”

  I raised my hand in apology.

  “I’m not a dancer and I’ve never gone in the back rooms to give a blowjob for extra money. As an aside, a lot of the dancers at the club are good women. Some of them are mothers, doing what can to support their families. Others are students who dance to help pay for their college tuition.”

  “I’m simply going by what I see.” Her explanation didn’t appease me. A piece of grass in front of me got my attention. I twirled the shit out of it until it ripped in half. I twirled another piece. “So where do we go from here?”

  “The ball’s in your court.” She spoke softly.

  “I want to continue seeing you. I just wish you didn’t have to do the Sunday night thing.”

  “It’s not forever. It’s a means to an end. A temporary one.”

  “How so?”

  “I have some debts I’m trying to pay off. As soon as they’re taken care of, I plan on quitting the club altogether. Trust me, it’s not in my best interest to be working there to begin with.”

  “Lizzie, if it’s money you need—”

  Her hand shot up. “Please, don’t insult me. No paybacks. I’m in enough debt as it is.”

  It hurt me to see such a nice person in such a bind. It would be no sweat for me to remedy it. Then again, I didn’t know how deep in debt she was or the depth of he
r situation. She hadn’t given me much to go by. Still, to see the hurt in her eyes killed me inside.

  “Well, the offer is out there.”

  “Acknowledged and appreciated but I won’t be taking you up on it. May I ask you a question?” She picked at her nails.

  “Shoot.”

  “Do your friends know about me?”

  “They know I met someone at the center. Well, Mason does. He’s our drummer. I didn’t mention anything about last night to him.”

  “Thank you.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, you looked hot dancing on that stage. I think that’s what pissed me off the most. I had that body all to myself and then had to share it.”

  “You weren’t sharing it. I already told you it had been years for me. It may not appear that way based on what you saw of me last night, but I don’t give of myself freely. In that regard, I have a ton of self-respect. I try to consider what I do on Sundays a form of acting. I am playing a character; someone totally separate from my true self. When I get off the stage, the show is over. That’s not to say it doesn’t affect me, but I manage to get through it.”

  As a performer, I understood her rationale.

  “I’m glad.”

  “Now you on the other hand...” She smirked at me.

  “Women know what they’re getting into when they’re with me. I have no remorse whatsoever. They get one night or nothing. Take it or leave it.”

  “I’ve had two so far.” She wiggled two fingers.

  “That’s right. Consider yourself lucky.”

  She nudged my leg teasingly. “So, are we good?”

  “Yeah, we’re good.” I swung my arm around her and squeezed her.

  “You said you weren’t fond of the idea of sharing me with others. How do you think I feel when you speak about the countless women you’ve been with?”

  “How about this, while I’m here, let’s agree not to see anyone else?”