by London Casey
Wearing the day like there’s nothing else to do.
I read the words as I leaned over the pool table. The pain and rage went through me like a dam had busted open. Denial was a powerful thing to feel. A powerful thing to wrap around like a cloak and stay away from the truth. Diem had tried to give me the truth, even if it was done in such a strange way.
Why come to me in person? Why not contact me before driving an hour?
And Scarlett was dead?
Dead. Gone. Forever.
I shut my eyes and shook my head.
And I had a baby?
A baby. Mine. From the night with Scarlett.
My brain flooded with questions. More than I could handle.
A mug of beer suddenly appeared in front of me, touching the piece of paper.
“Drink,” a voice said.
I grabbed the mug and took a big gulp of ice cold beer. I looked at the half-moon sweat ring on the piece of paper from the mug. That’s when I lost my shit again. I threw the beer mug across the bar and it smashed against the wall. People made noise, opening up the floor to give me room.
Breck was next to me. He was the one who brought me the beer.
River made a grab for me. “Brother, you need to calm down.”
I knocked River’s grasp out of the way and shoved him back. “Don’t come near me, man. I need space.”
“You need to go home,” River said. “I don’t know what that was, but it wasn’t good. Don’t do anything stupid.”
“Maybe someone got some shit ink.”
The voice was mixed in the crowd. I turned to my right and saw a guy named Dirt standing, holding a mug of beer. He had a cigarette tucked behind his ear. He was part of a crew that had some beef with Tate and St. Skin. I didn’t get it but I always got thrown into the mix of it. I loved a good fight when the time was right.
The time was more than right.
I grabbed the lyrics I had written for Scarlett and stuck them into my back pocket. The second I took a step River grabbed my arm and tried to stop me.
“Goddammit!” Pecker yelled from behind the bar. “Cops are coming, Cass. Cool the fuck down.”
“Yeah, cool down,” Dirt said with a grin. “What were you trying to draw? Your rock star career? How’d that turn out?”
My right hand flew like a rocket. I connected with Dirt’s jaw and sent him off his feet. He landed against a pool table, his beer mug hitting the floor, breaking into pieces. I dove on him and we went at it. For no good goddamn reason, we were fighting. Tangled up, twisting, throwing punches. Dirt walked me to a wall and I knocked over a rack of pool sticks. He got me once in the eye. Really damn good.
That set me off again.
I started to work him and he had no chance. I took him back to the pool table where I had him when the fight began. My boys didn’t even bother trying to break the thing up either. They knew better. These things were better left to work themselves out on their own. We’d go at it for a few minutes and stop. The night would be over.
The only thing? Pecker wasn’t kidding.
He called the fucking cops.
Now, this wasn’t like the PD busting in with guns and a SWAT team, taking people down.
They came strolling in as though they were going to sit up at the bar and order a drink. The two cops were Jonesy and Smack.
When I saw them, I had my fist cocked back, ready to punch Dirt again.
I stopped and backed away, putting my hands up.
Jonesy walked to me and pointed to the bloody mess that was Dirt. Dirt rolled to his left and to his feet. Smack was there to greet him by grabbing his shirt and walking him toward the back of the bar.
“Cass,” Jonesy said.
“Fuck yourself,” I spat. “I don’t need your pep talk today.”
Jonesy nodded. “Give me your hands then. I have no choice.”
“Yeah, fucking tough guy,” I said. “Take me the fuck in.”
I turned and put my hands behind my back.
“What the hell are you doing?” River asked me. “You could talk yourself out of this.”
“Nah, I’m better off right now,” I said.
“All because of a woman?” River asked.
I looked away.
Yeah, it was all because of a woman … why else would a sane man lose his damn mind?
I had one leg bent and had the ripped piece of paper against my leg. I read the lines about a hundred times. Sitting there on that stage with Scarlett, writing those words. Drinking beer after beer. The venue empty. Just me and her. Getting lost in something that was just so damn real.
Now she was gone? Like gone for real. Gone meaning dead. And a baby? So that night I spent with Scarlett, she got pregnant? She took off on me and never got in touch again. Hell, I could have tracked her down myself. But I held back for my own reasons. Even still, she knew she was pregnant and she knew I was the father. My face was plastered all over the stage, magazines, and online for a little while after Scarlett. Anyone with a pulse knew I was the fallen rock star who turned into a tattoo artist.
I wasn’t hard to find.
Diem found me.
Diem.
I shut my eyes.
I saw her.
The amount of strength it took to find me and throw all that at me. And what did I do? I lost my mind and got her tossed out of the bar. She was terrified of me. Terrified of the situation. I heard her words ringing fresh in my memory. Raising someone else’s baby. Doing it alone.
Scarlett was in a car accident and Diem had been babysitting that night. That meant Diem was a good friend. And hopefully now a good mother.
To my baby?
I couldn’t process it all.
I put my head against the cool stone wall and fell asleep.
It wasn’t my first go around in the local jail and probably wouldn’t be my last. It was just my nature. Call it angry, but I call it passionate. I wore my emotions loud and clear. I used to channel it through music. Now I did it through fists.
When I heard the banging on the jail cell, I popped up out of sleep. I was curled up on the bench. I rolled to my right and fell to the floor. Pain exploded through my hip.
“Ah, fuck,” I yelled.
I heard Jonesy’s famous cackle. “Knew I’d get you.”
I looked at him. “Thanks.”
“Get the hell up and get over here.”
I pushed myself up and saw the ripped page of lyrics on the floor. Amazing the journey my words had taken. From a night where romance began to the floor of a jail cell.
I grabbed the paper and stuffed it in my back pocket.
Jonesy hadn’t even searched me when he brought me. He didn’t process me. He took me to a holding cell to sleep it all off. Like he would do with the other town drunks.
“What time is it?” I asked.
“You’ve been here for a few hours. How do you feel?”
“Are you asking if I’m drunk?”
“Not that. I know you’re not drunk. You were ready to kill Dirt, huh? An old beef or what?”
“He was a casualty to something else,” I said. “Sorry about that.”
“Doesn’t bother me. I was half asleep in my cruiser. Long night.”
“What’s next?” I asked.
“You stuffed something into your pocket. Do I need to search you or will you show me?”
“Fucking hell.” I grabbed the piece of paper. “Here. It’s words.”
Jonesy took the paper. He read it. He nodded. “What is it?”
“A memory.”
“A bad one, I take it?”
“Jonesy, what the fuck are we doing here?”
He took out his keys opened the cell. “You’re free to go.”
“I have no wheels.”
“The bar is only a couple miles away. The walk will do you good.”
“Yeah, it’ll be fucking great.” I stepped out of the jail cell and paused. I grabbed Jonesy shoulder. “Thanks.”
“For wha
t?”
“I don’t know. I’m a free man now. I have a new outlook on life.”
Jonesy laughed. “No you don’t.”
“Hey, can you do me a favor?”
“I arrest you, let you go, and now I have to do a favor?”
“It was just a question.”
“What?”
“I need to find someone.”
“Someone?”
“A woman.”
“A woman,” Jonesy said. “I don’t like where this is going.”
“She gave me the piece of paper you just saw. I want to give it back to her.”
“I don’t know, Cass.”
“Jonesy. You know me. I’m a hot head. I’m a prick. But I lost my cool tonight. I shouldn’t have let things get the way they did. Before you got there, there was a woman there. Named Diem. She told me something I wasn’t expecting. About my old life. Okay? I didn’t get to finish my conversation with her. My fault, not hers. I want to make that up to her.”
“What’s her last name?”
“I don’t know. Her name is Diem. She lives an hour away.”
“Which direction?”
“No clue.”
“Oh, Christ,” Jonesy said. “How am I—”
“You said it was a slow night.”
“Yeah, I did. I regret that now. I’ll take a look, okay?”
“Thank you. And I need you to check for something else.”
“Cass.”
“An obituary.”
“For?”
I spoke Scarlett’s name. I couldn’t believe the words pouring out of my mouth. Having Jonesy dig up information on Diem and find proof of death of Scarlett.
I exited the police station feeling more empty than I had in a long time.
I started to walk. My head throbbing. My mouth dry. My heart heavy.
Had I really lost Scarlett?
Was I really a father?
And just who really was Diem?
I climbed on my motorcycle and heard the squeak of a door behind me. I turned my head and there was Pecker, carrying out two bags of trash. He dropped one and it hit the ground.
“Fucking ass,” he snapped at the bag.
I got on my ride and let out a quick whistling, earning Pecker’s attention.
He looked right at me. “I have a gun inside. I’ll shoot you.”
I got off my ride and went to the trash bag on the ground and grabbed it. “Walk with me, Pecker.”
The dumpster was at the opposite corner of the dirt parking lot. It was always fun trying to park at Little Mikey’s because everyone made it up as they went along. We’d throw down bets on how many cars, trucks, and motorcycles would get hit in one night.
“Jonsey took it easy on you,” Pecker said.
“Yeah, right,” I said. “I’m really sorry about what happened. I shouldn’t have fucked up your place. That’s my bad. I’ll pay for everything I broke.”
“I know you will,” Pecker said. “That’s not why you’re here.”
“Well, the truth is that I needed to get my ride,” I said. “But, yeah, I’m sorry, Pecker.”
“That woman,” he said. “She really set you off. Old flame?”
“She had a piece of my past I didn’t expect to come back. And a little bit of my future. If I want it.”
“I hear that,” Pecker said. “No need to trash my place though. And as far as Dirt goes? Fuck him. I didn’t want you to kill him, Cass. That look in your eyes …”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it. So am I welcome back tomorrow night?”
“According to my watch, it’s already tomorrow. We’ve got about another two hours until the sun comes up.”
I smiled. “Sure. Have a good night or morning or whatever.”
“You too.”
I started to walk and Pecker called for me.
“You’re always welcome here,” Pecker said.
“Hey, Pecker. You have kids, right? Two boys?”
“Yeah. They’re a couple hours away though.”
“You like being a Dad?”
“It’s the hardest job in the world. And I’m really bad at it. But I think they know I love them. Why?”
“No reason,” I said. “Have a good one.”
“Stay out of trouble,” Pecker called out as he walked to the door and ripped it open.
I didn’t respond.
But if I did I would have told him the truth.
It was impossible for me to stay out of trouble.
Diem
NOW
I woke up and thought it all had to be a wild dream. Had I really gone all the way to Hundred Falls Valley to find Cass? Had I really felt something so strangely intense for Cass it left me tingling and guilty at the same time? Had I really been chased out of a bar and all but chased home to cry myself to sleep like some girl dumped on prom night?
Before I could answer “yes” to all the questions, I heard the cry of a baby.
I looked over at the monitor and realized I never turned it on.
“Shit,” I yelled and jumped out of bed.
I ran my hand through my knotted, sleep-tossed hair.
What kind of person was I? What kind of mother?
I charged down the hallway and found the nursery door open. But there was no baby in sight.
“Paisley?” I called out as though she could answer me.
As though she could have gotten out of her crib and crawled to hide somewhere.
I heard the cry again and my head snapped to the left.
She was downstairs.
Downstairs?
I took the steps two at a time and rounded the last step. I missed it with my left foot, jamming my ankle against the side of the step. White hot pain shot through my ankle, leaving me biting my lip. I was now hopping through the living room, reaching for anything to balance on.
That’s when Susie appeared, holding Paisley in her arms.
“Susie,” I said.
Relief washed over me. I forgot about Susie. She spent the night. She was there to help.
I grabbed my ankle and leaned against a wall.
“What happened to you?” Susie asked.
“I hit my ankle. I heard Paisley cry. I didn’t have the monitor on. I’m—Susie, what’s wrong with me?”
“You heard Paisley crying from all the way upstairs?”
“Yeah.”
Susie grinned. “You have nothing to worry about. You have the instinct. Trust me. You’re doing fine. Take a deep breath. Get a cup of coffee. Let me make you something for breakfast.”
“No,” I said. “I can take care of myself. And Paisley. I shouldn’t have leaned on you like that last night.”
“It was no worry. I know something didn’t go right last night.”
I scoffed and set my sights on Paisley. I plucked her from Susie’s arms and held the baby. I closed my eyes and smelled her. There was nothing like Paisley’s smell. I opened my eyes and tried to let the night slip away. But I couldn’t. When I looked at Paisley I saw Scarlett and Cass. This beautiful and precious life that was created by their time together. And now I was carefully cradling Paisley’s time, hoping to make the best of it.
“Why don’t we talk?” Susie asked.
“Okay,” I said.
I sat down and kept Paisley in my arms. I gave Susie a quick play-by-play. The reaction. The men escorting me out of the bar. That terrible drive home. What I left out was the beginning. Standing in that room where Cass did his tattoos. Looking at his drawings. That one of the house. All those scribbled lines. It mattered. Why? I had no clue.
“So that’s that,” I said. “I tried. I mean, I’m sure it’s a shock. Maybe I shouldn’t have gone after him while he was drinking. He told me not to come back though.”
“Shock is right,” Susie said. “I don’t know what I can say right now, Diem. I want to say something.”
“You don’t have to,” I said. “I tried. Maybe I’ll try again. I know this … it’s not on my shoulders ri
ght now. I found him. I met him. I told him the truth, no matter how harsh it was. I’m not sure what he expected or thought about Scarlett. But she’s gone. And now there’s Paisley.”
Susie nodded and stood up. She came to me and hugged me. The kind of hug a mother would give a daughter. The kind of hug I was cheated out of in life. For no good damn reason. The kind of hug I wanted to be able to give Paisley for the rest of her life.
I held back my tears.
“Susie, I really appreciate all of this,” I said. “But you should go. You have things to do. I’m fine here. I’m going to spend the day with Paisley. When she naps I’m going to organize some business stuff and figure out what’s next.”
“So you lost that big job?”
“It was a big job, not the only job. I have other work.”
“And that’s why you’re a great mother,” Susie whispered. “Whether you believe it or feel it … you are. You take care of Paisley.”
I smiled.
That was the biggest problem I had.
I was starting to feel like a mother. To my best friend’s baby.
It felt … odd.
It compared to almost nothing to what happened next.
I was sitting at the dining room table with my laptop and an array of papers spread across. Going through some offers I had to make, along with two projects that needed to get wrapped up. Losing that job with Tim was rough, sure, but it wasn’t going to put me out on the street. It would have been a comfortable job. Something to work on for a while, giving me extra time to focus on Paisley.
That was okay though. I could handle it. I could manage it.
I heard the doorbell chime and I looked right at the baby monitor. Motherly instinct.
It took me a few extra minutes to get Paisley to fall asleep. I didn’t need her waking up early from her nap. That would only turn my early evening into a special version of hell.
I hurried out of the chair and to the door.
There was a knock at the door then.
“Hold on,” I growled. “I have a sleeping ba—”
I opened the door.
I had no idea who to expect.
It couldn’t have been Susie. She just left this morning.
I hadn’t ordered any packages. Unless I was ordering in my sleep. That wouldn’t have shocked me. Retail therapy on a phone under the covers while feeling emotional was a real thing. You could look at my credit card statement for proof.