Drive

by Stephanie Fournet

  “It was kind of spur of the moment. A-and we can’t stay long,” she said, hearing the stammer in her voice and hating it. Now was not the time to get nervous. She’d been pretty pissed off with Larry. She needed to hold onto that. “Dad, this is Jacques Gilchrist. He’s my fr—”

  “Boyfriend,” Jacques cut in, stepping forward and offering his hand, even though the expression he wore was less than inviting.

  Rainey’s father accepted Jacques’s hand, but she could see a hint of confusion in his eyes. Maybe it was faked. She couldn’t tell for sure. “Oh? Is this a special occasion? Did you come with an announcement?” Then he chuckled. “Or maybe to ask my blessing?”

  Rainey felt her stomach plunge with embarrassment at the same moment she watched Jacques’s grip on her father’s hand go from firm to uncomfortable. Her father’s face could only hide so much.

  “I hope I’ll be so lucky one day,” Jacques said, and even though he glowered at her father, his eyes blazed with a heat that singed her clear to her bones. Her heartbeat quickened at his words.

  Did he really just say that?

  Solidarity, Rainey decided. He was showing her loyalty instead of letting her father in on the truth. They’d only known each other about a month. They wouldn’t have the kind of future her father was teasing about because their paths would soon diverge. But Jacques was far too kind and protective of her to say any of that, and Rainey was grateful.

  Dylan Reeves gave Jacques his game-show-host grin, made up of contrived approval. “I see. Well, nice to meet you, Jacques.”

  At this, Jacques managed a nod, and Rainey saw what it cost him. Again, she was grateful. But she didn’t know how long Jacques could keep his distaste under control, and she had work to do.

  “Dad, can we find someplace to talk? Just the two of us?”

  “Uh, yes… sure, baby…” Then his eyes searched the room, landing first on Larry’s with unspoken significance and then on the receptionist’s. “Lacey, honey, would it be alright if we use one of the empty mixing rooms?”

  Rainey’s eyes found the receptionist sitting with her arms crossed, a scowl on her face. “Of course, Dylan,” she said, her tone now ice-cold. “Please use whatever space you want to meet with your adult daughter.”

  Rainey watched Larry and her dad wince simultaneously.

  All at once, she got it. She understood exactly why the receptionist had reacted with such surprise to learn who she was. Poor Lacey was sleeping with her dad — or was on her way to it. And, clearly, she didn’t know he had grown children. Indeed, she was probably old enough to be one of his grown children.

  And given Dylan Reeves’s track record, she might have been.

  Even pushing sixty, her father hadn’t changed. He was incapable of change. Rainey let go a slow sigh, locked eyes with Jacques once more, and followed her father down the shadowed hallway.

  They passed two doors on their left before he opened one on the right and held it for her. The small room was dim, soundless. A window faced an empty studio. In front of it spanned a built-in desk crowded with electronic equipment, computers, mixing boards, and controls. Two rolling chairs made up the only furniture, but Rainey didn’t even consider sitting. The urge to pace the tiny room like a caged animal struck almost immediately.

  “I gotta say,” her father said, grinning as he pulled the door closed. “It’s good to see you with someone… even if he isn’t the warmest guy in the world.”

  Rainey bristled. “Actually, Dad, Jacques is the warmest guy in the world… in my world, anyway.” Something in her tone — protectiveness or pride — must have snagged his attention because he blinked at her in surprise.

  “Well, I guess I’ll just have to get to know him,” he said with false cheer. And Rainey felt her jaw set.

  Too many responses flooded her mind. Like you’ve gotten to know Ash? Or Holi? Or me?

  Or your son?

  She wanted to let loose the words, but she had no idea what would happen after that. Would she open the valve on the resentment and anger she’d carried for years and be blown away with its pressure? Would her father hear her out? Would she get the information she needed to help Holi?

  Rainey tamped down her response so she could focus on her reasons for coming.

  “Dad—”

  “I know what this is about, so let me save you the trouble,” he interrupted, his tone laced with superficial benevolence. “Larry confessed that he told you about my… my… well, about the boy.”

  Rainey’s brows shot up. “You mean Ray? Your son?” An edge of warning sharpened her voice.

  Her father tilted his chin to the left and regarded her, his eyes narrowing slightly. “His mother said he was mine, but I never had any proof—”

  Her jaw fell open. The image of her brother flamed before her eyes. Ray was so undeniably his. Theirs. “Have you ever seen him?”

  A look of distaste marked his features for an instant and was gone. A bland expression of patience took its place.

  “Yes.” The word was soft but empty of emotion, and it raised more questions than it answered.

  Rainey crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, if you’ve seen him, then you know he looks exactly like you and Holi.” She waved her hand between them. “He has our eyes.”

  He blinked at her in obvious surprise.

  “Oh, yeah, Dad. I’ve met him—”

  “Yes, Larry told me,” he interrupted again. “I know he meant well, but Larry should have left well enough alone.”

  “Well enough?!” Rainey nearly choked. “Holi could die, Dad. Ray may offer a chance to save her. Don’t you get it?”

  Her father frowned, shaking his head as he turned away from her. “That’s not going to happen. I know you worry, Rainey, but it’s not good for y—”

  “Dad, look at me!”

  Even in the muted room, her voice rang like a banshee’s. It was the first time in her memory she’d shouted at her father. He turned his startled eyes to hers, but before he could speak, she advanced on him.

  “You don’t know. You don’t know what’s going on with her. Holi’s weak, and tired, and frail. Dad, she has to wear a mask to protect from infection.” Her hands balled into fists as she raged. “You wouldn’t even recognize her. Do you know what her chances are without a stem cell transplant?”

  Pain pinched his eyes, and he started to shake his head, but Rainey knew it was in denial, not in reply.

  “She may not even have two years, Dad.” Her voice pitched and stumbled with the words, but she fought back against the growing lump in her throat. “I won’t let that happen. Not when there’s something I can do. Ray — your son, our brother — might be the answer. But his mother won’t help. She won’t even hear me out, and I think you know why.”

  Her father pressed his lips together, and his eyes narrowed. She waited for his answer, feeling adrenaline sting her fingertips and spur her heart. Soon the onslaught would leave her shaking and nauseous, but for now, she held her shoulders back and her chin high.

  “Why, Dad? Why does Gloria Lopez-Craine hate you so much? What did you do to her?”

  He winced. “Nothing.” His answer was barely a whisper.

  “Nothing? That can’t be true. What happened the last time you saw her?”

  At this, a shadow fell over his brow, and he lowered his gaze.

  “Dad.” He didn’t look up. “When was the last time you saw her?”

  She watched his right brow raise and lower before he shook his head slowly. “The last time I saw her was in a hospital room in Louisville the day after Ray Charles was born.”

  Rainey felt like she’d been struck. Like a croquet mallet had connected with her head and sent it spinning down a wide, green lawn.

  “What?” She didn’t know how she’d even formed the word. It sounded more like a rush of breath. Her face had gone numb, and she couldn’t feel her lips. Rainey racked her brain to remember what Larry had said the week before. “Larry said you took care of
them. That you looked in on them until she married.”

  Her father’s mouth was a flat line. “I took care of them, and I would have kept doing it if she’d let me.”

  Rainey frowned. None of this made sense. “Dad, stop evading. What did you do? Why does she hate you so much?”

  With a gusty sigh, her father pulled out one of the office chairs in the control booth and collapsed into it. He scrubbed his face with his hands before dropping his elbows to his knees.

  “I told her we’d get married,” he said finally.

  “You what?”

  Her father shrugged. “Gloria had nothing. She was barely twenty, waiting tables and putting herself through beauty school. When she told me about the baby, she said she didn’t know how she’d manage. I promised her I’d take care of her.”

  He planted his hands on his thighs and nodded with resolve as though this course of action was noble, admirable.

  “But that wasn’t good enough. She wanted to be a family.” He gave a little shake of his head that seemed to suggest Gloria’s wishes were ill-advised. “Even though she was young, I knew she’d be a good mother. She was just scared. Once the baby was born, I knew she’d be fine as long as I paid the bills. So, I got her a little place, visited when I could, and told her everything would be alright.”

  Rainey pictured a young Gloria, scared and vulnerable. The father of her child a blues legend offering to marry her. He would have been everything to her. “Let me guess. She fell in love with you.”

  He blinked once, a flash of something like regret passing over his face before he shook himself. Not, she knew in denial, but in dismissal. “Like I said. She was young. I knew she’d get over it.”

  Rainey felt the betrayal as though it was her own. “So you kept seeing her, you told her you’d marry her, and you let her fall in love with you.” Her voice was low, but angry. “And then she gave birth to your son, and she never saw you again. Do I have all this straight?”

  Her father folded his arms over his chest and tucked his chin, a defensive posture if she ever saw one. His eyes narrowed. “It wasn’t like I left her on the streets,” he hissed. “I gave her a nice place to live. I gave her a car. I paid all her bills. I made sure she had everything that I’d given to your mother and you three.”

  He stood from his chair, shaking his head and holding out his hands in frustration. “And it wasn’t enough. Just like with your mother. Melinda could never understand that writing the blues and putting together an album just doesn’t mix with loading the dishwasher and dropping kids off at school. Those things just wreck creativity.”

  Rainey flinched, his words jabbing at old wounds. Memories of her parents fighting. John Lee, in tears, sneaking into her room at night. To hear her father tell it, he sounded like the wronged party. Was this supposed to make her feel sorry for him? He couldn’t be bothered to parent his children? To be a husband to his wife? Because it wrecked his creativity?

  Rage seemed to pool under her feet like a lava flow. It rose up her bones into her chest. When she spoke, she might as well have breathed fire. “So you walked away from your infant son the day he was born.” She spat the words. She could have shouted them. She could have shouted down the walls. Instead, she kept her voice level. But her tone was lethal, dripping with disdain. “How long did you string her along, Dad? How long before you had Larry intercept her calls? Before her only contact with you was a check in the mail?”

  Hot tears threatened, but Rainey fought them. Gloria and Ray’s betrayal felt immediate. It felt personal. She knew all too well what it was like to wait for him. To call. To come home. To simply be there.

  And he never had been.

  She lost her battle with a lone tear that streaked down her cheek. And although her throat was painfully tight, she forced out the words. “You weren’t there for me, Dad.”

  Dylan Reeves blinked at his daughter, seemingly surprised by her shift in subject and her raw and sudden emotion.

  “When John Lee died, I needed you. And you weren’t there.”

  Her father frowned at her, and it was not the frown of a penitent man. Rainey thought saying the words would have shattered her. Her voice shook as she spoke. A tear had escaped, but she didn’t shatter.

  She flicked away the single tear, and when she spoke, Rainey’s voice held. Her throat ached, but maybe that was because she’d held back the words for so long.

  “You’ve had four children, Dad. And you’ve let us all down.”

  Dylan Reeve’s frown turned into a scowl. “You’ve wanted for nothing,” he hissed. “You and your sister don’t have to work a day in your life if you don’t want to. That’s because of what I’ve given you.”

  Rainey shook her head. “No amount of money could have helped me deal with watching my brother die. I needed you. I needed you to walk me through that. And instead, you pulled away. You let me down. Whenever you’ve faced the choice to do the hard thing for your children or the easy thing for yourself, we’ve always come out last.”

  She cleared her throat, finding the words easier to voice now that she’d freed herself to say anything. “I can’t speak for Holi or Ray, but this is the last time you’ll disappoint me, Dad,” she said, her chin quivering but her voice ringing clear. She squeezed her fists so tight her nails dug into her palms. “If this drug trial doesn’t work, and we lose Holi, I will never forgive you,” she swore. His eyes widened at this. “Because I will know you let us down yet again—”

  Her father shook his head. “You don’t know that Ray Charles is a match, Rain—”

  “He goes by Ray, Dad,” she growled. “And you’re right. I don’t know, and I won’t know, but I’ll always wonder. And if I lose my sister, I’ll always wonder if you could have saved her by simply being a better man.”

  He reached for her, his eyes both surprised and pained. “Rainey—”

  “No.” She gulped, stepping out of his reach. She walked to the door and slowly pushed it open before facing him again. “Wanting anything from you is too painful, so from now on, I want nothing. I don’t want your money. I don’t want your phone calls. I don’t want the birthday cards and Christmas presents your manager picks out for me. But I’m sure you’ll be relieved that you won’t have to worry about me getting in the way of your creativity.”

  She shook her head at him, making a promise to herself as she did. “I don’t need you in my life.” Rainey took a deep breath and released it, already feeling lighter. “Neither of us needs to pretend anymore.”

  The words held an honesty and conviction she hadn’t known she possessed. In a perfect world, she’d cherish a relationship with her dad. One that was genuine, mutual. One where she could share the ups and downs of her life with her father supporting and loving her through each.

  But Dylan Reeves probably wasn’t ever going to change, and she wouldn’t wait for him any longer. She wouldn’t cling to an image of him that wasn’t real, and she wouldn’t accept his excuses. Not anymore.

  Still wearing a look of surprise, he said nothing as she turned to go, and Rainey told herself it was no less than what she expected.

  When she stepped out of the sound booth, her gaze fell to the end of the hall and landed on Jacques, who looked like he was straining against imaginary chains. Archie stood at his feet, pulling at his leash with the same impatience. Rainey gave Jacques a shaky smile, and that was all he needed to meet her midway.

  He collided with her, wrapped her tight in his arms for an instant, and then pulled back and braced her by the shoulders. “Are you okay?”

  Swallowing hard, she nodded. Now that she was with him, feeling his touch, reading the concern and genuine emotion in his eyes, she felt vulnerable, fragile. Like she’d fall apart any second, and she didn’t want to do that. She reached down and gave Archie a reassuring stroke as he balanced his front paws against her thigh.

  “Let’s get out of here,” she rasped.

  This was all she had to say. With a quick jerk of his hea
d, Jacques grabbed her hand, and they sped to the lobby. As they crossed the sleek space, Rainey’s eyes met the receptionist, who looked more than a little sheepish.

  “Whatever you do,” Rainey told her. “Don’t let him get you pregnant.”

  Lacey the receptionist’s eyes widened with the warning, and at once, her cheeks colored.

  Yep. She slept with him.

  Rainey gave a resigned shake of her head before she pushed through the exit. But as she stepped outside into the spring afternoon with Jacques and Archie, she let thoughts of her father’s indiscretions roll off her.

  Somehow, she’d found the courage to tell her father what she felt. To tell him how he’d let her down, let them all down. Time after time. And she’d made it clear — both to him and to herself — that she would not accept that any more.

  Lightness rose up through her limbs. She felt almost weightless. As they walked to the car, the sun touched her face, and she tipped her chin up to it, savoring the warmth. Jacques’s hand in hers was a conduit to joy, as if she’d plugged into the universe’s source of happiness.

  Everything felt brighter. Lighter.

  Or maybe she was truly proud of herself for the first time in six years.

  Either way, Rainey smiled up at the sky and gave thanks for the feeling.

  Chapter 27

  He’d expected she’d need comforting when she emerged from the showdown with her father. He’d anticipated she would need reassurance that she’d done the right thing in confronting him. Jacques was ready to offer both and then some.

  But when Rainey emerged from the music studio, she’d beamed.

  He’d heard her. Or at least he’d heard the rise and fall of her voice from down the hall. The soundproofing in the studio was good enough that he couldn’t have made out her actual words — not that he was spying, but he wanted to make sure she was okay and that her father never mistreated her — but he could hear well enough to know that she’d done most of the talking.

  And Jacques had wanted to cheer for her. He wanted to cheer for her now, even as they drove through Mississippi headed home.