“It’s an exclusive, very expensive facility in Zurich. They don’t house more than twenty patients at a time. I had my own counselor assigned exclusively to me.”
“What was he like?” she asked.
“What makes you think it was a guy?” I teased.
“Because a woman would be too distracted by you to actually help you,” she said like it was obvious.
“His name was Dario. I hated him at first. He wouldn’t let me stay numb. He forced me to deal with everything. But now we’re friends,” I said with a smile.
“When exactly did you go to rehab?”
“Last August,” I answered.
Her face showed her concern and her confusion. “What changed to finally send you?”
“At the end of July, I fell off a cliff into despair. No, that’s not quite right… I jumped off a cliff into despair. Two shows had to be canceled because I was too fu— I mean, stoned to perform. I couldn’t recall the chords or lyrics to my own songs. I couldn’t even remember what I’d taken. The label stepped in. Told me I was in breach of my contract. Gave me no choice but to enter rehab.” I hated thinking about that time in my life.
“Why didn’t you just let them fire you? You hated being governed by the label long before then anyway.” She turned fully towards me.
“Yeah, but I didn’t want to ruin things for the guys. And honestly, the numb guy going through the motions and not living wasn’t me. But I didn’t know how to get me back,” I admitted.
“I don’t understand. In July, we’d already been…” her voice broke. It made me feel good to know she struggled with our ending as much as I did. “…over for like a year and a half. What pushed you over the edge? Not that I assume your drinking and drug use was a result of losing us,” she stammered.
“My substance abuse was a result of losing us. Because when I lost us, I lost me. I lost music. I lost everything. But the final straw was realizing just how over we really were,” I said, dropping my head to my hand.
“What do you mean? I wasn’t even in the US during that time.” She peered intently at me.
“I know. You were in Italy. Cinque Terre in Italy to be exact. One of the places on our bucket list. When the alert came through showing pictures of you living our dreams without me, I just couldn’t find even an ounce of give-a-damn left. So, I used anything I could get my hands on. When the numbness started to fade, I chased my next high. Eventually, I had to fall from the high.” I shrugged.
She squeezed my hand. “For what it’s worth, Cinque Terre was the only place on our list that I visited. It hurt too much to tackle the list without you. So, I made my own list and set about checking off items on my own.”
Something about that comforted me greatly. Warmth spread from the icy spot around my heart out to the edges of my skin.
“Beckett add things to your list?” Did my masochism know no bounds?
She gave a sharp chuckle. “No. He doesn’t really understand the appeal of making a list.”
I hated the question about to fall out of my mouth but was helpless to stop it. “So, he doesn’t travel with you to your destinations?” It made me sound too interested in their relationship.
“He’s been to a few. He worried about my health part of the time, so he didn’t want me too far from medical care.”
“Are you healthy now?” I needed to know. If she wasn’t, there was no way I could disappear from her life again.
Absentmindedly, she picked up a discarded pencil and started twirling it between her fingers. Then, she scratched it along in tiny strokes against a scrap piece of paper. She turned her head from me, weighting her answer without the scrutiny of my stare.
“Yeah. I mean I have to get tests every now and then. And things could come up later as a result of my treatment. But I guess I’m as good as can be expected,” her voice was even as she laid out the facts.
But her words were hollow like she was holding something back. Maybe I was just reading things into her tone. It had been a while since I’d had to read Izzy. And I didn’t know this Izzy like I knew my Izzy.
Dropping the pencil, she stood abruptly. “I’ve had enough for one night. I need some sleep. I’ll see you later, Daw.” She gave my fingers a gentle squeeze and dropped my hand.
As she climbed through the hole in the treehouse floor, she lifted her eyes to mine. “I’m glad you’re clean now.”
“Me too, flutterby. Me too.” And though the ache in my chest begged to be dulled, it was a sharp reminder that I wasn’t done with her just yet. And just maybe she wasn’t done with me either.
Moving to the desk to turn off the light, I glanced down at the scrap of paper she’d just been doodling on. Hearts and question marks filled the corner. Hidden among them was the word “No”.
Was the “No” the truthful answer to my question about her health? Hopefully time would tell.
♪ Watch Over You by Alter Bridge
Chapter 3
Izzy
Beckett whistled when he and I entered the conference room. “You guys did a great job decorating.” He smiled down at me. “And did I mention how beautiful you look tonight?”
“Thanks.” I beamed at him, trying to hide my nerves beneath a calm façade. My fingers smoothed away miniscule wrinkles in my silver cocktail dress.
As I introduced him around to several family members, a voice called, “Izzy.” I turned to find Jessie sauntering up to me. It had been ages since I’d seen him. Reaching out, he pulled me into a hug. It was friendly and not at all awkward like I expected it to be.
“Beckett, this is Jessie. He was one of my other neighbors growing up,” I explained.
Beckett held out his hand to shake Jessie’s. “Ah, so you were friends with Isabelle when she was a little girl.”
“Eh. Not really. I was kind of mean to her when we were kids. But we did date for a little while in high school,” he said with a smirk.
A grin tipped up Beckett’s lips. “So, you used to be Jessie’s girl,” he teased me in a sing-song voice.
“No, she was never my girl. She was always Dawson’s girl,” Jessie said.
Beckett’s smile fell into a frown. “So, why did you two break up?”
“Because I was an idiot,” Jessie stated matter-of-factly.
“Yes, you were,” I agreed.
The noise behind me increased as the air crackled.
“Speak of the devil,” Jessie exclaimed, looking over my shoulder. “Yo, Daw.” He motioned Dawson over to where we stood.
“Did you meet our little town’s claim to fame?” Jessie asked Beckett.
“Yeah. Last night, we hung out. He’s a pretty cool guy,” Beckett said with a huge grin.
Jessie cast a look of pity at Beckett, but Beckett seemed to miss it as he turned to greet his new friends.
“I’m going to go fix a plate,” I told Beckett, leaving him with Jessie, Brooks and Dawson.
Minutes later, I settled into a seat near the head table. I glanced around and found that the guys hadn’t moved. My cousin, April, had joined the cluster. She was fluttering her lashes up at Brooks and ran her fingers along his arm. Poor Brooks.
Hastily, I ate the meatballs I knew Beckett wouldn’t approve of.
“Isabelle, how are you?” Brittany pulled me into a sideways hug before plopping down next to me.
I held up a finger to signal for her to give me a minute to finish chewing my forbidden meatball. After swallowing and taking a sip of sweet tea, I gave my old friend a big smile. We’d had a rocky start as kids, but once Dawson moved away and Brittany joined my dance class, we’d bonded. “I’m doing well. How are you?”
“I’m pretty good. In between jobs. The dance studio I was teaching at closed up shop, so I’m back home for the time being,” she said with a sigh.
“How’s that?” Sympathy coursed through me. Even though I was sick, I’d hated it when I had to move back home. It made me feel like a failure, and I was sure it made Brittany feel the same
way.
“Ugh. I need to find work. Mom always wants to know where I’m going and what time I’ll be back. I’m twenty-five years old. I shouldn’t have to report in to my mom and God forbid, my stepdad. It’s really putting a damper on my love life,” she said with a pout.
“Ahhh. And who’s the lucky guy?”
“There’s no one lucky guy. I haven’t had a relationship in years. But when I get the urge, I head to one of the neighboring towns and find someone to hook up with for the night.” She waggled her eyebrows at me.
“I hope you’re being safe, Britt.” The world wasn’t always a safe place for single girls.
“Oh, I am. I carry my own condoms, am on the pill and pack a pistol. I don’t drink when I go out. I promise, I’m good.” She patted her purse with a laugh.
“As long as you look out for yourself. I don’t want you to get hurt.” The number of friends I had was small.
She waved off my concern. “So, how have you really been? I haven’t talked to you in forever. Not since I visited while you were recovering.”
“Well—”
Before I could answer her, Beckett, Dawson and Brooks joined us. Brittany turned and gave Dawson a big hug. “Dawson, how the hell are you?”
“Alright, Britt. How about you?” He pulled back from her embrace.
“Doing well. And I see you brought Brooks with you.” She turned on the charm.
“Oh, yeah. Where are my manners? Brooks, this is Brittany. Brittany, this is my man, Brooks.”
I chimed in while Brittany shook hands with Brooks, “And this is Beckett.”
“Nice to meet you both,” Brittany said with a smile. “So, Beckett, what do you do? And how do you know Isabelle?”
“Well, I’m a doctor, and I help run the research program that Isabelle was part of a couple of years ago,” he explained.
“Nice. I’m glad Isabelle is doing better. I was worried about her there for a bit. She and I were just catching up since we haven’t talked in a few years. So, other than getting healthy, what have you been up to, Izzy?” Brittany asked.
“I’ve been doing photography, and I’m actually having an art show in a few weeks at a gallery in Charleston,” I told her.
“That’s amazing,” Dawson exclaimed. “I’m so proud of you. You’ll have to text me the information. Maybe I can come.”
“Speaking of the show, I have some old photos of the band that weren’t part of the license with your record label. I was wondering if I could get your permission to display them,” I said in a rush.
“Of course. I’d do anything for you,” he whispered so only I could hear.
♪ I’d do Anything by Simple Plan
Silence descended around the table for a moment. Brittany broke it in true Brittany fashion.
“Well, I know what Dawson and Brooks have been up to, especially if you believe the tabloids.” Brittany smirked at the guys.
Dawson chuckled nervously, and my face flushed with a mixture of anger and embarrassment.
“Yeah, well don’t believe everything you read. I’m much wilder than the paps give me credit for,” Brooks said with a wink, breaking the last of the tension.
“Oh, gosh. Is it true that you guys are going to be on The Spiel?” Brittany bounced in her seat animatedly.
Dawson nodded as my jaw dropped.
“Wait, you’re going to be on Elle’s show?” I squeaked.
“Yeah. I was actually hoping to ask you for some tips, Izzy. I’m a bit nervous,” Dawson said.
“Why would Isabelle have tips for how to deal with some trashy daytime talk show host?” Beckett asked, confusion wrinkling his brow.
“You’re kidding, right? Izzy loves The Spiel,” Dawson sputtered.
“Yeah, when she was on tour with us, she made us watch every single day,” Brooks chimed in.
Beckett turned his confusion toward me. “I don’t know which I’m more surprised to hear… that you toured with a rock band or that you’re a fan of trashy daytime TV.”
“The Spiel is not trashy.” My spine stiffened as I prepared to defend my tastes in television. “Elle Ducaine is a brilliant interviewer. She asks the hard questions and doesn’t back down.”
Turning my body towards Dawson, I said, “It’s good that you’re a little nervous. She’ll probably ask you some things you don’t want to talk about, like rehab.”
“Oh, I know. I agreed to a no-holds-barred interview,” he admitted.
“What? Why would you do that?” I asked in astonishment.
He was opening himself up to being put on the spot.
♪ Someone to Watch Over Me by Amy Winehouse
“I’m ready to get in front of the drama the press has created. I have nothing to hide. But I would like to make sure I’m on Elle’s good side. So, any insights?” His eyes were hopeful.
“Who are the other guests who’ll be on the show that day?” I leaned forward as Brittany scooted her chair back out of the way.
“Just us.” He chewed his lower lip, making me think wicked things. I clenched my thighs together under the table.
“Are you sure?” That didn’t sound right.
“Yep,” he said making the p pop like he always did, drawing my focus to his mouth.
“That’s a first. Normally, she has several guests on the show. I don’t know if that makes me more worried for you or not.” I chuckled at his grimace. “It does work in your favor that she is a huge LO fan. You guys are her second favorite band.”
“Second favorite? Who’s her first?” Brooks asked indignantly.
“Bon Jovi. And her absolute favorite song of all time is ‘I’ll Be There for You’. Maybe you guys could cover it on the show,” I suggested.
“We can totally do that. It’s been a while since we’ve played it, but I’m sure we can brush up on it before we go on the show. Anything else we should know?” Dawson leaned towards me, making the air crackle with desire.
“If she asks you something you don’t want to answer, be honest and tell her. If she senses you’re lying to her, she’s like a dog with a bone and will continue to hound you to answer the question,” I said seriously. I’d seen her rip apart celebrities on her show before.
“Got it.” He nodded and waited for more advice.
“Speaking of covers, I always loved how you guys covered the most random songs,” Beckett said, leaning over the table so he could see Dawson around me. “How did you guys come to learn so many songs from every genre?”
“We have Izzy to thank for that,” Brooks said with a laugh.
“What do you mean?” Beckett asked, turning to Brooks.
“When the band was just starting out, Izzy was our biggest cheerleader,” Brooks said.
“And our biggest challenger,” Dawson added.
“Izzy told us that in addition to making our own music, we needed to learn covers. Because until we had our own fanbase, we had to be able to win crowds over with songs they already knew and loved. She would send Dawson a couple songs each week for us to learn. Some of them fit our sound and vibe. But some…” Brooks trailed off as laughter overwhelmed him. His face turned red with the force of his booming chuckle.
“Some of them were so outside our comfort zone. But I refused to give up on any challenge Izzy gave us. No matter how much we didn’t want to practice some of the assigned songs,” Dawson said, pride flowing through his voice.
“What songs are you talking about?” Beckett asked, bewildered.
“Oh, um how about Madonna’s ‘Like a Virgin’ or ‘I Touch Myself’ by Divinyls?”
“No, she didn’t?” Beckett’s jaw dropped open.
“And the Spice Girls and Brittany Spears,” Dawson added.
♪ Wannabe by the Spice Girls
Brooks finally composed himself enough to speak, “Yes, she did. She made us learn pop, rap, country, rock, metal, folk. You name it, Izzy made us practice it.”
“And even though we complained—” Dawson started.
&nbs
p; “And whined like babies,” I added.
“And whined like babies, it helped us hone our skills. She made us great,” Dawson said with a smile. His eyes, trained on me, said so much more.
The silence grew awkward. The background music changed to something slow. Brittany held out her hand to Dawson. “Come on, Rockstar. Dance with me for old time’s sake.”
His gaze flickered to mine briefly before he stood and followed Brittany to the empty space occupied only by my grandparents, who were swaying slowly. My heart throbbed watching Dawson hold Brittany. I wanted him to hold me.
“You too, mister,” I said to Beckett. My nerves demanded that I get up and move. Dancing was the obvious solution.
“That might not be such a good idea, Isabelle. I have two left feet, or maybe no feet at all,” he argued.
“You’ll be fine. It’s just one dance,” I prodded.
“All right,” he said with a sigh.
I placed my hand in his and drew him to the dance floor. As we moved awkwardly to the music, I watched Dawson and Brittany. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but both of them were smiling and laughing. Pain stabbed my heart, then stabbed my foot as Beckett stepped on it.
“Sorry.” His lips were pressed into a tight line, and he stiffened.
“It’s fine. You just haven’t found the rhythm of the song yet,” I said in a soothing tone.
“I don’t have an ounce of rhythm in my body. You’re going to get hurt,” he answered in an exasperated tone.
“It’s a good thing you’re a doctor then.” That got a smile out of him. “Now, just focus on me. Follow my lead. We’re only going to move in a circle to the right. When I step, you step. Got it?”
“Got it.”
He was so focused on not stepping on my feet that he didn’t attempt to carry on a conversation with me. By the time the song faded, he’d only stepped on my feet three more times.
“Mind if I cut in?” Dawson asked as Bret Michaels’ “All I Ever Needed” started to play.
Lyrical Odyssey Rock Star Series: Box Set 1 Page 48