Rock Chick Regret

by Kristen Ashley

  I looked up at him, beginning to panic and blurted, “I don’t want you to go.”

  “I’ll be right outside.”

  “Hector –”

  Another hand squeeze then a repeated, “Right outside,” before he touched his lips to mine and, without a glance at my father, he left.

  So did the security guard.

  My father and I were alone.

  Blooming heck.

  “You get a kick out of that, Sadie? Bringing him here and shoving him in my face?”

  I stared at him.

  I felt my heart start to beat faster and waited for it to happen. I waited for who Hector called Stepford Sadie to slip into place. I waited for the automatic dutiful daughter to arrive and be apologetic and hide the fact that Hector was in my life or promise to get rid of him altogether.

  Instead, Stepford Sadie, now good and dead, didn’t appear.

  “I’m sorry if that upset you but you already know he’s in my life,” I answered softly.

  “He won’t be for long,” my father returned.

  My body went stiff. “Why’s that?”

  “Been lookin’ into Hector Chavez,” he replied, his tone cold. “He’s got a string of pieces, Sadie, you’re just the most recent one.”

  I let out a breath and shook my head. “I know about the other women.”

  “Then you aren’t as smart as I raised you to be.”

  “I’m living with him.”

  “Then you really aren’t as smart as I raised you to be.”

  I stared at him.

  He stared back.

  This went on for awhile.

  I was not going to give in.

  I knew he wouldn’t either.

  So it went on for awhile longer.

  To my shock, he finished the stare down by asking, “Are we done?”

  And, also to my shock, I had the perfect retort, “I don’t know, Daddy, are we?”

  It was clear he didn’t expect this answer and also clear he didn’t understand it.

  I decided to explain.

  “You have two choices. One, you stay the way you became after Mickey Balducci murdered Mom and that means we go our separate ways. I won’t be a party to that kind of relationship with my father. Or two,” I stopped, went to the vinyl couch where my bag was, I pulled out a large photograph, a duplicate of the picture I took from Mom’s storage locker (the original now residing in some boxes in Hector’s spare room, waiting for the downstairs to be finished). I turned back to my father, walked to him, closer this time, the picture turned to face him. “We can go back to this. A family. Even without Mom with us.” I shoved the photo at him and his eyes didn’t move from it. “Take it,” I said. “I’m allowed to give it to you.”

  Slowly, his eyes moved from the picture to me.

  I took a stunned step back at what I saw.

  Pain.

  Utter, devastated, unhidden pain.

  What was in his face sliced deep through me so deep I whispered an uncertain, “Daddy?”

  “Where’d you find that?” he whispered back.

  “One of Hector’s friends found Mom’s stuff.”

  He wasn’t listening, his eyes were fastened at my neck and I watched in horror as the color drained out of his face.

  All of a sudden, he tore his eyes from my throat, walked by me without looking at me to the window where he stopped.

  His back to me, he stared out the glass

  Then he said, “Get out.”

  My body jerked as if he struck me.

  “What?”

  “I know what you’re doing Sadie. It’s clear you’re here with Chavez, with those things, to get a piece of me. Take it, cherish it and get the fuck out.”

  I stood, stunned immobile for a second then my heart started beating, my blood started pumping and I stomped to the table in the room, put the photo on it and stomped to the window, right in front of my father.

  “I will not get out,” I snapped.

  His eyes didn’t move but he put his hands in his pants pockets and stared over my head.

  “Look at me,” I demanded.

  He didn’t look. It was like I didn’t exist.

  I shoved his shoulders with both hands and yelled, “Dad! Look at me!”

  Only his cold eyes tilted so he could look down his nose at me.

  “I know everything. Everything,” I told him and he just kept looking down his nose at me so I repeated, “I know everything about you.”

  I watched his lip curl before he said, “You don’t know shit.”

  “I know you loved her,” I shot back. “I know your parents weren’t nice to you. I know she loved you too. I know that you were her world. I know you were mine too, once, before she went away. I know you fed me in the night when I was a baby –”

  “Shut up, Sadie.”

  “I know if I hurt myself, I went to you –”

  “Sadie, shut up!”

  “I know when I got up all sleepy, if you were home, I’d go directly to you –”

  His hands shot out of his pockets, grabbed onto my arms and shook me hard as he shouted, “Shut up!”

  “I will not shut up and I will not get out!” I screamed in his face. “Decades ago, I had a father! I want him back!”

  He shoved me away, I went back two feet, righted my involuntary retreat and advanced again, grabbing onto his shirt with both fists and shaking.

  “You used to kiss my head and tuck me into bed –”

  His hands wrapped around my wrists and he pulled but I held on tight.

  “Why’d you leave me? Once she was gone, I needed you!”

  His body went still and his chin tipped down so he could look at me.

  “You didn’t need me,” he said.

  “I did,” I returned.

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “I did!” I screamed.

  “I killed her.”

  It was my body’s turn to go still.

  “What?”

  “I didn’t pull the trigger but what I did put her in that position so I might as well have been the one to blow her head off.”

  His words cut through me and I closed my eyes tight.

  “That’s what he did, Sadie, Mickey blew a hole in her head.”

  “Quiet,” I whispered.

  He got close, his mouth came to my ear and he whispered, “Before I did the same to him, I made him take me to her. Bernie and I got her body –”

  “Please, don’t.”

  “We paid heavy to have her put in a marble tomb –”

  “Don’t.”

  “Pink marble, her favorite color.”

  “Stop it.”

  He kept whispering in my ear. “Even now, when I’m in here, I know that gardenias are placed on the steps of that tomb every Sunday afternoon.”

  I couldn’t help it. The fight went out of me, I let go of his shirt and fell into him, my arms wrapping around his waist. The tears were heavy in my throat, sliding down my face, I heard my own choking sobs but he didn’t put his arms around me, he didn’t hold me.

  “But I wasn’t done, was I?” he asked softly.

  I tilted my head back and stared at his blurry face.

  Only then did he touch me. I blinked and focused, catching his eyes staring at my cheek then his hand came to the side of my head, his thumb out and tracing the scar there.

  “I got you raped. You. My sweet Sadie. All those years of protecting you so no one could hurt you, no one could get at you like they did Lizzie. Then, when I got sent down, I stepped back, wanting to give you your life, the kind of life your mother wanted for you, a good life, a clean one without me in it. And still it was me who got you violated.” His voice got deep and rough before he said, “My sweet baby.”

  “Daddy –” I whispered, fresh tears sliding down my cheeks

  I watched, fascinated, as his eyes cleared, his head cocked and he asked almost casually, “How can you even look at me?”

  I blinked once then again
then I said, “Because I was made from love, that’s who I am. And Hector says if you love someone, you forgive a lot of shit. So,” my voice dropped, “I’m guessing I can look at you because I love you.”

  He stared at me and I waited, my body still, the tears coming and seconds sliding by slowly, each one of them taking hours.

  Then his arms came around me and he pulled me deep into him. I felt his mouth kiss the top of my head and I got up on tiptoe, my arms going tight, my face going into his neck.

  We held onto each other for awhile, until my tears stopped, until the strength came back into my legs and then I whispered in his ear, “Will you please take the photo?”

  His arms gave me a squeeze. “I’ll take the photo, Sadie.”

  I pushed it.

  What could I say?

  My father taught me to know when I had the advantage and when to push it.

  So I did as my father taught me.

  “Do you mind if I wear the necklace?”

  That got me another squeeze, he didn’t answer but I took it as a yes.

  Then because I had to, because it was important, I took it further. “If he gets up before me, he tucks the covers around me so I won’t be cold.”

  My father’s body got tight.

  “I don’t know why but I went to him after the rape. He took me to the hospital. When the staff tried to separate him from me, it took two men to pull him away.”

  He gave me a different kind of squeeze, one that told me to be quiet.

  I didn’t listen to the nonverbal command, I went on, “He makes me feel safe.”

  Finally he spoke. “Sadie –”

  My voice went so low, I barely heard myself. “I think I love him.”

  Silence again.

  Then a deep sigh.

  “It’d be a lot easier to hate the man if he wasn’t such a clever bastard.”

  I blinked into my father’s neck. Then I pulled back and looked at him.

  “What does that mean?” I breathed.

  His hand came back to my cheek, his thumb again traced the scar then his eyes moved to mine.

  “Can I just get to know my daughter for awhile before I have to put up with her new fucking boyfriend?”

  My body sagged into his with relief.

  Then I nodded.

  Because I knew, it would take awhile, but it would happen.

  “I won’t miss another visiting day,” I promised.

  “Good,” he returned.

  “I want to know where she is. I want to take the gardenias there myself.”

  He sucked in breath, held it then let it go and nodded. “I’ll be sure that’s arranged.”

  “I want you to be good so you can get out soon.”

  This made him smile, not huge, but his lips turned up.

  So, I smiled back.

  Then I whispered, “I’m glad to have you back, Dad.”

  His hand sifted into the side of my hair, cupped my head and tilted it down.

  He kissed the top of my head.

  “Thank you for taking me back, Sadie,” he said into my hair.

  At that, for the first time in eighteen years, I gave my father a hug.

  Epilogue

  Como Quieras

  Sadie

  “Jesus, Trish, I’m payin’ for the booze, I should be able to get drunk on it,” Herb Logan, Roxie’s father, snapped at his wife (loudly).

  “Keep your voice down, Herb,” Trish Logan, Roxie’s mother, hissed back (also loudly). “Do you want your daughter’s wedding to be marred by memories of her loud, drunken, hillbilly father?”

  I looked at Jules, Vance, Stella and Mace who were standing with me, Herb and Trish in our little (but loud) group.

  “Roxie don’t care, she wants everyone to have a good time. Shit, look at Ally, she’s three sheets to the wind,” Herb returned.

  We all turned in unison to look at Ally.

  She, like Jules, Stella and I (as well as Annette, Daisy, Indy, Ava, Jet and Roxie’s sister, Mimi, being a Rock Chick, by the by, meant having an enormous wedding party) was wearing a glamorous, deep green, long, velvet dress, strapless, form-fitting with a sexy slit up the front and an elegant twist of material at the bodice. We all had perfect, oval rubies (Roxie’s bridesmaid’s gift, the green and red color combination was because it was Christmas Eve) winking at our throats and matching studs at our ears both of these displayed beautifully because our hair had been swept up in elaborate up-dos.

  Ally and Ren Zano seemed to be having a very intense conversation. Ren’s face was set, his jaw tight. Ally’s face was red, her eyes flashing.

  Then, all of a sudden, she shouted, “Go to hell, Ren Zano!” took a step back and cocked her arm, hand in a fist as if she was going to strike him.

  “Oh my God,” Jules breathed as Ally let fly but Ren caught Ally’s fist, twisted it down and behind her back so her body slammed into his. His mouth went to her ear and he said something that made her struggle. He turned them both, his and her arm still behind her back, and marched them out of the elegant Donald R. Seawell Grand Ballroom of the Denver Performing Arts Complex.

  “What was that all about?” Stella breathed as we all kept our eyes locked on the empty space where Ren and Ally used to be.

  “Should we help her?” I asked and Stella and Jules both looked at me and gave me small shakes of the head.

  I didn’t like seeing Ally so upset but I figured Jules and Stella had more practice with this Rock Chick business, not to mention, I knew Ren was a good guy, he’d never hurt anyone. So I let it go.

  “If she can shout ‘go to hell’ in this fancy-ass ballroom then I can have another fuckin’ drink that I’m fuckin’ payin’ for,” Herb announced and stomped to the bar.

  Trish’s eyes did a scan of Jules, Vance, Stella, Mace and I.

  Then she asked, “Which of you girls are married? I forget.”

  “Just me, Mrs. Logan,” Jules answered.

  Trish’s eyes came to me then went to Stella, “Don’t do it.”

  Then she stormed off toward Kitty Sue, Malcolm and Tom.

  Mace and Vance grinned at each other. Stella, Jules and I started giggling.

  I felt heat then I felt Hector’s hand at the small of my back. It slid along my waist and his mouth came to my neck. I shivered, twisted my head to the side and smiled up at him.

  His face got warm when he caught my smile but his eyes went to Mace and Vance.

  “What’s up with Zano?” he asked them.

  Silence.

  But I got the feeling it wasn’t because they didn’t know, it was because they weren’t saying in front of the loose lipped Rock Chicks.

  Stella got the same feeling and she turned into Mace. “You know something?”

  “Fuck,” he muttered.

  “Spill,” she shot back.

  “Kitten,” Mace replied (though, you will note, he didn’t answer).

  I smiled.

  I loved it that Mace called Stella “Kitten”. It was very cute. There were a lot of things Mace was (he was hot, he was tall, he was handsome, he could be a little scary and moody, he could also be surprisingly sweet) but there was one thing he was not and that was cute.

  Except when he was around Stella.

  “Kai,” Stella returned and I loved it when Stella called Mace by his given name. No one else did but she did and when she did, it was also very sweet (except now, when she did it with narrowed eyes).

  My eyes moved to the door as Indy and Lee came through it. She was adjusting her bodice. Lee had her lipstick on his mouth.

  I giggled.

  Jules leaned in and whispered, “What’s funny?”

  I tilted my head to Indy and Lee. Lee was now wiping the back of his hand against his mouth.

  “I think Indy got some,” I whispered back to Jules.

  Jules grinned.

  “Weddings do that to people,” she told me. “Luke carried Ava out in a fireman’s hold at my reception. Took her home, gave her the busin
ess, brought her back, her mouth was swollen, her face was flushed and her hair was all over the place.”

  My eyes got round. “No kidding?”

  She shook her head.

  I had to admit (privately, to myself), she wasn’t wrong. At Jet and Eddie’s wedding a few months ago, Hector “gave me the business” in a haystack.

  It was way better than s’mores.

  “What’s up?” Indy asked, she and Lee hitting our group.

  “Not much. Herb’s shitfaced. Trish warned Sadie and me not to get married. Ally nearly punched Ren in the face after shouting ‘go to hell’, loud, and the boys know what’s going on and aren’t spilling,” Stella answered.

  Indy turned to Lee. “Ally nearly punched Ren? What’s that all about?”

  Lee shook his head.

  Indy’s eyes narrowed.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t have given him naked gratitude in the cloakroom five minutes ago. Saved it for later,” Jules threw out, Indy’s face got red, her body turned slowly to Jules and Lee started chuckling.

  “I don’t see what’s funny,” Indy snapped at Lee.

  His mouth went to her ear, his hand went to her midriff and he said something to her that made her eyes go lazy and her body relax.

  “Whatever,” she whispered and rolled her eyes at me.

  I smiled. I had no idea why, I just did.

  “What’s going on with Ally?” Roxie asked, her hand in Hank’s, both of them joining our group.

  Roxie and Hank’s wedding couldn’t have been more different than Eddie and Jet’s.

  As Jet wanted, she got her hog roast outside a barn, hayride, s’more reception. It had been a blast. Everyone kicking up their heels on the wooden slats in the barn to rock ‘n’ roll and country, getting drunk on beer and cocktails, eating roasted hog, toasting marshmallows outside around a massive bonfire with big logs covered in fluffy wool blankets set all around and letting their hair down.

  The only thing that slightly marred the festivities was when Ally started a hay fight during the hayride, it got a little rowdy (Tex was on that ride) and we got threatened with hayride-ejection from the irate hayride driver.

  But other than that, it was the best.

  Jet had looked gorgeous. Incongruous with the surroundings she chose, she’d gone the full on, wide skirted, tons of tule, lace and beading, huge wedding dress route, truly looking like a fairy princess.