Remember Me: Music For The Heart: Book 4

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Remember Me: Music For The Heart: Book 4 Page 23

by Starr, Faith


  “That’s harsh.”

  “That’s my dad for you. He’s a selfish jerk.”

  “When did you start drinking?”

  “When my grandma got sick. In my later teens, she required round-the-clock care. We couldn’t afford it. The solution was for me to do the homeschooling thing so I could be her caretaker. I managed to graduate with my peers, but it wasn’t the same as experiencing high school life with them.”

  Her story was killing me. The more she divulged, the stiffer my muscles became. Lizzie was such a strong woman. It was no wonder. Look where she had come from.

  “That must’ve been difficult.”

  “It was. I couldn’t go out with friends, and none of them wanted to hang out with me. Why would they? I’ll tell you what, you see who your friends are when things get tough.”

  Her comment made me feel grateful I had the guys. We stood by each other through thick and thin.

  “So you used drinking to help deal with your circumstances?”

  “Sure did. I didn’t see a light at the end of the tunnel. I had no clue how long the situation would last. What I did know was that my grandma had been there for me during my darkest hour, so I would be there during hers.”

  “You’re a loyal person. I respect that about you.” I squeezed her tighter in my arms.

  “When it comes to my grandma, I would do anything.”

  “Me too, for my grandfather. He was always my sounding board and go-to person. You and I were both lucky in the sense we had someone to guide us and confide in. So what happened with you and your grandma?” I almost didn’t want to hear the answer if it meant things got worse.

  “I really wanted to go to college, still do, but didn’t have the means. My grandma only had so much money in the bank, and the cash she did have was running low. One of us had to bring some in. She obviously couldn’t be that person. One of her neighbors was nice enough to help out by babysitting my grandma for four consecutive Saturdays so I could go to bartending school. I told her I had to get a job, or we would no longer be able to pay my grandmother’s rent. Fortunately, the woman was sympathetic to our cause. For me, becoming a bartender was an alcoholic’s dream job. I got free booze and made decent money. I saw it as a win-win for all.”

  “Damn.”

  “I functioned pretty well too. My tolerance was high. I’d work late shifts and pay that neighbor practically nothing to sit in my grandmother’s apartment. The woman basically watched television and knitted. I didn’t care what she did as long as someone was in the apartment so my grandmother wasn’t alone.”

  “What made you finally decide to give up the booze?”

  “Things went downhill fast. I realized my destructive behavior was hurting both of us. One afternoon I got so wasted I passed out on the couch. When I woke up, I couldn’t find her. It was terrifying. I called the neighbor to see if my grandmother had gone there for a visit. She hadn’t. I asked some of the other neighbors if they had seen or heard from her. None of them had. I was beside myself. Let me tell you, the stress of finding her gone sobered me up. I had so much guilt and shame. I had failed her.” Tears skated down Lizzie’s cheeks. I wiped them dry.

  “You were sick.”

  She sniffled. “I was sick, and that experience proved just how much.”

  I was sitting on the edge of my seat waiting to hear the ending. “Did you find her?”

  “Eventually. I searched the neighborhood for hours, driving in circles. I shouldn’t have even been behind the wheel with the amount of alcohol I had consumed yet didn’t think twice about it.”

  “Where was she?”

  “At the local park, sitting on a bench watching children play. All I could think about was what if she had fallen into a lake or walked in the middle of the street when a car was coming? Or worse, what if she had decided to take a drive? There were so many possibilities, all of them bad. I thank God every day none of them took place. That ordeal was a sign I needed to make a change. I did research online and discovered there were AA meetings a short drive from our apartment. I also quit my bartending job. But I still had to pay our rent. I had no other qualifications other than working in a bar.“

  “So you took a job at the club.” It all made sense to me now.

  “Yeah.”

  “It doesn’t sound like a healthy alternative.”

  “It wasn’t and still isn’t, but the money more than pays my bills. I’m still my grandma’s guardian, in a sense, and have to make sure she’s well taken care of.”

  “Does she still live in the apartment?”

  “No. The lease ended, and we moved out. She’s safe in a home with proper care, and I live in the house with the girls.”

  “A shitload of ‘em.”

  “There’s a reason for that too.”

  This story was ongoing. Lizzie had been to hell and back.

  “What is it?”

  She froze again.

  “No judgments. Nothing you tell me will change how I feel about you or scare me away. Being on the road, and in the business I’m in, I’ve seen and heard it all.”

  “I live in a halfway house. My roommates are in their first few months of recovery. All but one, the house mom. It’s such a heavy burden to be living a lie. I hate it.” Her muscles tensed under me.

  “I’m glad you feel secure enough to share this with me. Please know that whatever you tell me will never leave this room.”

  “Ditto for anything you tell me.”

  “I have a question.”

  “Ask away.”

  “Why do you live in a halfway house if you’ve been sober for a few years?”

  “I had nowhere else to go, and it was affordable. Our house mom, Nikki, said I could stay as long as I offered support to the girls since I have some recovery under my belt.”

  “That was nice of her.”

  “Very. They have no idea I work at the club. If they find out, I’ll lose my room. One of the conditions of living under that roof is that we’re supposed to be rebuilding our lives. Working in a bar is like making a deal with the devil.”

  “Then why are you still doing it?”

  “Because as I said, it pays my bills.”

  “When does your well-being take precedence over everything else?”

  “I have responsibilities. My current situation allows me to take care of them,” she huffed.

  “I’m sorry if I offended you. I didn’t mean to.”

  She slouched. “Apology accepted.”

  “I feel like an ass. Here I was offering you some of my rum and coke at the pool.”

  “You didn’t know. And you’re free to drink. It doesn’t bother me. I just know I can’t.”

  “Absolutely not. I’m not going to disrespect you by drinking alcohol in front of you. I could take it or leave it. It’s no skin off my back.”

  “Lucky you.”

  22

  Lizzie

  I had my vulnerability cape on. It wasn’t fun.

  “So now you know a great deal about me.” All except the one secret I would keep locked tight. That one I couldn’t reveal to anyone. Not yet. I had given my word. I had too much to lose by going against it.

  “And I respect you even more.”

  I faced him and straddled my body over his. “I feel like I’m living a lie. My sponsor and friend, Hailey, doesn’t know the real deal about the club. I’ve worked there for years. As close as I am to her, I’ve led her to believe I’m just a server. She doesn’t know exactly what I serve. It’s totally against the spiritual principles of Alcoholics Anonymous, or AA, to lie. When she first became my sponsor, I told her about my job. Not many questions were asked. I was scared if she found out I served alcohol, she’d fire me as a sponsee.”

  My heart felt weighed down with bricks.

  “Ugh,” I groaned. “I can’t believe I just spilled my guts to you and my sponsor of three years is still in the dark.”

  “Can I ask what a sponsor is?”

  �
��Oh my gosh. Please, forgive me.” Here I had rattled on and on and he didn’t know the lingo in AA. “A sponsor is someone in a twelve-step program that has been through the steps and guides and supports another person in recovery going through them. I have a sponsee named Carly. The program is all about anonymity. Since you don’t know the girls, I can tell you their names. The AA fellowship is about getting and giving back.”

  “Sounds praiseworthy.”

  “That’s an understatement.”

  He turned on the faucet to warm up the cooling water.

  “My understanding is that you have to continue to attend meetings. Do you still go to them?”

  “Not enough. I should be going more often. My current schedule doesn’t allow for it. I go on Saturday mornings with Hailey and Carly. Sometimes I’ll go to early morning meetings during the week to get more in, especially if I feel I’m falling back into old thinking patterns. That’s a warning sign that I have to take better care of myself. I also meditate, which helps a lot.”

  “A few of our roadies are in a twelve-step program for drug addiction. They hang out together.”

  “Probably supporting one another while on tour.”

  “Makes sense. I never gave it much thought until now. I want to thank you for sharing all that with me. I know it wasn’t easy, and the fact you had faith in me with it speaks volumes.”

  “Trust goes both ways, you know.” I wanted him to open up to me too.

  “I know. After my loss, I had trouble dealing with it. I didn’t want to speak to anybody about it either. I felt it made me appear weak. My bandmates helped, along with my grandfather. I consider the guys my brothers. We have an unbreakable bond.”

  “That’s special. Cherish it because it’s hard to find.”

  “Believe me, I do. I’d do anything for them and vice versa. It may be none of my business and you can tell me to mind it if it isn’t, but don’t you think you should tell your friends the truth about the club? I find things are bigger in my head when I don’t share them.”

  My body softened against the defeat overtaking it. “I’m glad you brought it up it because you’re right. I’ve been putting it off out of fear. But it’s time they learned the truth.”

  “If they’re real friends, they’ll support you.”

  “Listen to you.” I tickled underneath his chin. “All full of psychology.”

  “I too have been through a lot. Most of my writing is about releasing repressed feelings. I tend to withdraw when things get rough. Writing has been my outlet.”

  “You’re lucky you found that release in music. It’s a much healthier coping mechanism than the one I chose.”

  “Yes and no.”

  “How so?”

  “When I go into isolation mode, I go to a dark place, and depression sets in. The guys have had to intervene on more than one occasion to help pull me out of it.”

  “Did you ever speak to a professional about your feelings?”

  “Yeah. I also tried the medication route. It killed my libido. That made me more depressed than the depression itself. For the most part, I consider myself chill. Certain things will set me off. I try to take breaks and know my limits. Take this weekend, for instance. I too needed a break.”

  “I’m glad you included me in it.”

  “So am I.”

  He kissed me, a tender kiss that lasted several long minutes. When he broke it, I examined his hand as it played with mine. “You’re a prune. Should we get out and get dressed?”

  He inspected mine. “You are too. Yes, let’s get out of this tub because we look like senior citizens. Is there anything special you want to do?”

  Anything and everything. I felt free for the first time in forever—no place to be, no one to check on, no responsibilities or earth-shattering situations that had to be dealt with. What a rush it gave me.

  “I’m open to suggestions. I’m perfectly content hanging out here, but I’m also game for doing something active. You’ll find I’m easy-going by nature.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. I have my car. We could take a drive if you want.”

  “Sure. Why don’t we take a drive and see where the road leads us?”

  “I’m game for that.”

  We got dressed. I took my beach bracelet out of my purse and clipped it on.

  “I see you’re still wearing the bracelet.”

  I jiggled my wrist. “I love it. I’ve worn it every day since you gave it to me.”

  He froze. Hopefully, my comment hadn’t scared him. I hadn’t meant for it to.

  “Shall we head out?” I asked to break the silence.

  I slipped my hand in his. We took the elevator downstairs and waited for a valet attendant to bring up Ryan’s Mercedes. Once one did, the two of us hit the road. While Ryan drove, I searched the internet for fun local things to do.

  “Ooh, there’s a Japanese garden nearby. Want to visit it? I’ve never been and would love to check one out.”

  “Then let’s do it. To a Japanese garden we go.”

  He put the address in navigation, and we took the leisurely drive to the gardens. The day was getting better and better.

  The attendant at the check-in desk informed us that afternoon tea would be served in their tea house, along with a traditional tea ceremony, if we were interested. I sure as hell was.

  “I can’t wait. It’s going to be so cool.”

  Ryan smiled at my over-the-top enthusiasm.

  The two of us strolled through the museum. The soft music and dim lighting had a relaxing effect on me.

  “This is cool.” Ryan scanned the large space under air.

  The current exhibit described anime. A small room had built-in benches and played samples of cartoons.

  “Let’s watch a movie.”

  I dragged him over to a bench where we sat. There were no other patrons in the small theater. Yay for us! Privacy.

  “The eyes are so different.”

  “Yeah. Much larger,” Ryan agreed.

  “Funny how everyone is so thin too.”

  He laughed. “Figures a girl would pick up on that.”

  “It’s true.”

  “Kirby isn’t thin.”

  “Kirby? Isn’t that a character in a video game?”

  “Sure is. I’ll have you know some of the Pokémon characters aren’t skinny either.”

  Ryan was so adorable.

  “Why are you laughing?”

  “You’re a cutie pie, Ryan.”

  He leaned over and kissed me.

  “Okay. My attention span has left the building. What do you say we move along?”

  “Agreed,” I replied.

  He took my hand and led me to the main exhibit area. We studied anime art and then toured the gardens.

  “Yes! They have a Zen garden.” I bounced up and down.

  “I’m going to assume based on your reaction you want to see it.”

  “Please.” My hands came together in prayer formation.

  Ryan was such a trooper, agreeing to do anything I requested.

  He slung his arm over my shoulder. “To the bat-cave.”

  We followed the path that led to the Zen garden. Once there, we read the first sign we came to. To clarify, I read it aloud for both of us to hear.

  “Zen rock gardens or kare…san…sui... I can’t pronounce the word, are dry gardens which use stones, gravel, sand, and other ornaments to emphasize the principles of naturalness or Shi… I’m done trying to read the Japanese terms. Simplicity and austerity.”

  The serene atmosphere and music on the overhead speakers brought me a feeling of inner peace. What a special place we had fallen upon.

  “Do you mind if we relax on this bench? I want to absorb as much of this energy as I can.” I swirled my arms in front of me to fill myself with it. “It’s truly magical here. I love it.”

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

  “I am. Immensely. Do you feel the energy? It’s so pure.”


  “Probably not as much as you do, but it’s a cool place.”

  “I just might have to buy myself a mini Zen garden. They sell kits so you can design your own. I think that would be a lot of fun.”

  “I bet they sell some in the gift shop.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. If not, I’m sure Amazon sells them. Still, do you mind if we stop by the gift shop before we leave?”

  He chuckled. “Not at all.”

  “Now you’re laughing at me.”

  “Because I think you’re a cutie pie too.”

  We sat in silence and breathed. Well, I did. I wasn’t too sure what Ryan did because I had my eyes closed. I couldn’t have asked for a better afternoon.

  “The tea ceremony starts soon. Shall we head over?”

  Ryan’s words broke me from my meditative state. I opened my eyes and watched him stand and stretch.

  “I wish I could take this place with me.”

  “You can. Give me your phone.” He stuck his hand out, and I placed mine in it. He hoisted me up. He positioned me in front of the various rock designs and took pictures of me alone then some of the two of us. “Great memories for a great day.”

  “An amazing day.”

  Smiling, we said farewell to the serenity of the Zen garden and hello to the tea ceremony.

  A beautiful Japanese woman with jet-black hair pulled back tight in a bun entered the room. Her white kimono had designs of gold bamboo and colorful flowers on it. Her obi belt was a deep, graduated shade of red and matched some of the flowers on the kimono. The belt had a faint pattern of circles and diamonds on it. Her feet were adorned with white socks and funky wooden sandals that resembled a fancy version of flip flops, if such a thing existed. The thong part was made of cushiony red material. Velvet, perhaps? I was in awe of her beauty, grace, and elegance.

  She sat on the floor in front of the guests. We sat on benches opposite her.

 

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