“So this was all a publicity stunt?” I finally asked, anger replacing the dread and growing with every second.
“Yes,” my mother whispered. “A very misguided one.”
“So the plane crash never happened?”
She shook her head, at least having the decency to look very, very uncomfortable. “No.”
“And you’ve been where all this time?”
She looked down at her hands, picking at her nails again. “At first we really did fly south. Otherwise it wouldn’t have worked at all. But then we found a local island hopper pilot who was willing to take a lot of money—cash obviously—to make himself and his plane disappear for a while. He made it seem like the plane went down in the middle of an archipelago of islands where the ocean is very deep, which was nowhere near where he actually took us. It was surprisingly easier to coordinate than I expected.”
“How wonderful for you,” I said dryly.
“Nessa,” Dad said, though my mother shook her head.
“No, Tony, She’s right. It’s all...what a stupid mess I’ve made. Anyway, the plan was to only stay a few weeks. A couple of months, tops.”
My eyebrows went up because while I was no mathematician, I still knew there was a big gap between ‘a couple of months’ and nearly sixty.
Abruptly, she stood up. I figured she was going for the door, but she announced that she needed water and then disappeared into the bathroom, slamming the door behind herself. I wondered if she was pulling drugs out of her purse but then discarded that thought when the sound of her sobbing came through the door.
Dad must have heard it, too, because he went and knocked on the door and then let himself in, leaving me and Dr. Carmichael to stare at each other because seriously, this whole thing was so surreal.
“So,” I said to him. “This is going well.”
A Different Sofa of Truth
“How are you feeling?” Dr. Carmichael asked.
Nodding my head toward the sofa, I said, “I’m feeling like if you’re going to ask me that, I should be lying on the couch.”
The left side of his mouth turned up. “If you can make jokes, I’m going to assume you’re all right.”
I shrugged. Because the weird thing was, I actually felt better than I had since Linda had called to say my mother had shown up at our beach house. I felt lighter, even though I still didn’t know the full story. I wasn’t about to jump on the forgiveness train, but maybe knowing really was better than not.
I stood, went over to the mini bar and took out a bottle of water and held it up toward Dr. Carmichael. I grabbed a second when he nodded and handed it to him.
A few minutes later, Dad emerged from the bathroom. He was holding a glass of water which he placed on the coffee table in front of my mother’s spot. She trailed behind him, looking slightly less put together than before.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I just needed a minute.”
She returned to her seat and lifted the glass to her lips with shaking hands, taking a small sip before she turned toward me again. “So... you asked where I’ve been for five years. At first, we were living off the grid, literally in a hut on the beach, on a tiny island off the coast of Honduras. After a while, we...I’m ashamed to say, we just stayed. It was liberating to be out of the rat race, to not care what the media was saying, to not need makeup or the latest bag, to be seen at the best restaurants and events. But what I said before was true,” she looked into my eyes intently. “I thought about you every day, Vanessa.”
Dad cleared his throat then, and I snorted as my mother and I both looked at him. “Of course, you, too, Tony.” She swiped at a tear. “My greatest shame will forever be that I walked away from my family.” She turned back to me. “That shame started to fester. And then it felt like we’d stayed too long to come back. Nick wanted to return, but I was afraid to, knowing I’d made a huge mistake and fearing you’d both never want to see me again. It seemed—it sounds so stupid now—but it seemed easier to stay away and not face the possibility of rejection. But then our passports were about to expire, and we had to come back.”
“When was this?” I asked. “It couldn’t have been just a week ago.” I glanced at Dad for confirmation, but he was looking sadly at my mother.
“No,” she said, her voice even softer. “It was about three and a half years ago.”
“So you’ve been in the country for three and a half years.” Not only did that make me even angrier, but it didn’t make any sense. “How did you even get into the country? How was your passport valid?”
She opened her mouth, but it was my father who answered first. “We thought the plane crashed. There was no reason for anyone at the border to be on alert when we thought...”
I looked back at her. “But if you were dead, how was that not a flag at the border?”
She glanced over at Dad, who took this question, too. “There’s a waiting period before someone can be deemed legally dead if there’s no body. To be honest, I was surprised they weren’t flagged, too, but maybe there was some sort of administrative glitch?” he shrugged. “I’m sure someone at Homeland Security is looking into it.”
“My brain hurts,” I said, taking a swig from the bottle in my hand. “This is all so...” I shrugged, not able to find a word that fit the situation or my feelings. Fubar was the best I could come up with.
I put the water down on the table. “But wait, where were you after that?”
“In a cabin in Northern California.”
“For all that time?”
She nodded.
I cocked my head as I narrowed my eyes at her. “So you shacked up with this guy, off the grid, playing house out in the woods. Hiding yourself away from us, the family you abandoned, for five years.”
She winced but nodded. “Essentially, yes.”
I took a moment and another drink of water while I processed what she was saying. But it was still so crazy. She’d always been selfish, but this scheme was inconceivable. I wasn’t sure I’d ever understand.
I put the bottle down on the table again before I looked her in the eye. “So why now? What do you want from us, now?”
She opened her mouth to reply, but before she got the chance, I added, “Because, I swear to God, if you say you’re here because you want us to pick up from before you abandoned us so we can be a happy family again, I will walk out that door, and you will never see me again.”
My heart was pounding, and I felt bad the second the words were out of my mouth, but I wouldn’t take them back because they’d needed to be said. I had Blurty to thank for making it happen.
My mother looked shocked for a second, but it passed quickly as her expression became one of sad resignation. She swallowed and then nodded. “I’m not going to lie and say I wouldn’t want that more than anything, Vanessa. But, I know that’s not realistic. Even if your father would have me back, which he wouldn’t.” She didn’t even glance at him, so I had to think they’d actually had that conversation.
When I did look at him, he gave nothing away.
“...I no longer deserve that family. I’ve done irreparable harm to both you and your dad, and that is my cross to bear.” She took a deep breath, let it out on a long sigh and then said, “I’m out of hiding because Nick and I were never really meant to be a couple. We had a business arrangement that got stale a long time ago. He’s young and restless and felt cheated; he wanted to start that career that barely got off the ground. To be honest, I’m surprised he lasted this long, but I’m sorry to say I engineered that, too. Just one more thing to add to my long list of regrets.”
“So you’re back because you have no choice,” I bit out.
She reached for her glass before she said, “In a sense, yes. But his unwillingness to live our lies any longer forced me to examine what I’ve done and why. I could have stayed away, I guess. But I realized I owed it to you—to both of you—to
come clean and deal with the consequences. I don’t expect forgiveness, as I said, but I needed to try to make amends. And my other reason was purely selfish.” She took a deep breath. “I wanted to see you. Even if you hate me, I needed to see you. Having you sitting here, listening to me right now is a gift I wasn’t sure I would receive, so I thank you for that.”
I waited, but she seemed to be done, folding her hands in her lap as she looked at me, waiting.
“So now what?” I said.
She deflated when I clearly dashed her hopes of instant forgiveness followed surely by hugs and kisses of long-awaited reconciliation. “Now...” she took a deep breath. “Now, I return to New York and wait to hear from the lawyers.”
I glanced at my father who was frowning, but not in a way that said he was surprised, more like he was upset. Obviously, he was getting dragged into this. She had been his wife after all.
“Lawyers?” I asked.
“There are a lot of legal implications to all this,” Dad said. “Stuff you don’t need to be concerned about at this point.”
“No, Tony,” she said. ”Vanessa should know and hear it from us—from me; it’s going to come out in the news anyway. I’m...well the first lawyers will be because your father and I are getting a divorce, which should come as no surprise. I realize we haven’t been together for five years already, but technically we’re still married, and I don’t want him to be obligated to me at all. I owe him at least that much.”
She glanced at him and gave him a half smile. “He’s been amazing and generous. He’s had no reason to help me, but he has.”
Dad swallowed hard and nodded at her.
That alone made me want to punch her in the face for hurting him all over again. How much more pain were we going to have to endure because of her and the consequences of what she’d done? For a freaking publicity stunt.
“The second reason for lawyers is that I am likely going to be charged for the disappearance and faking the plane crash. Apparently, it’s a crime to fake your own death, especially when it involves several countries and their coast guard resources to try to find you. Who knew?” she said with a humorless laugh.
“You’re...wait a minute. You’re going to jail?” For some reason, this bothered me. A lot. Which made no sense because I’d long thought she’d committed crimes against our family, but not...not actual crimes.
“I might,” she said. “We’ll have to see how it goes.”
For someone who might be facing jail time, she seemed pretty resigned to it.
Either way, it was still a way bigger deal than she was making it out to be. But then, something about her mentioning New York raised a flag. “Where are you living?” I asked.
She glanced at my dad, and I felt the sawdust muffin churn over in anticipation of her answer.
Sure enough: “The condo,” Dad said and then quickly added, “Not ours, the spare one.”
“Okay,” I said, relieved beyond measure. “So is that everything?”
They exchanged a look. “I think so,” my mother said.
I stood up. “Thank you for your honesty.”
She stood up, too, and when I didn’t move toward her, she wrapped her arms around her middle, looking even more unsure than when she’d arrived. “Vanessa?”
Ignoring that, I looked at my father. “I have some work to do for tomorrow’s concert, so I’m going to head back to the bus.”
And then, without another word, no hugs, no kisses, and definitely no forgiveness, I left the hotel room.
The Wheels on the Bus
Do not cry, do not cry, do not cry, I chanted inside my head as I rode the elevator by myself down to the lobby. Dad had told the security guys that he was with me and to stay with the band for the day—a move I appreciated because I was already feeling smothered enough. I watched the lights above the doors, and with each floor, I managed to make the tears recede a little more until the car lurched to a stop and the doors opened.
Taking a deep breath, I squared my shoulders and walked out, making a beeline to the front doors. I almost made it, too. But about ten feet from the entrance, I heard my name.
Damn. I didn’t need to turn my head toward the voice to know it was Sandy, but I did anyway and watched her jog toward me from the lobby café, her hair wet and combed back.
“Hold up,” she said, even though I’d already stopped walking. “Are you okay? How did it go?”
That she was concerned about me and all traces of anger from before were gone made me want to throw myself into her arms and let go. She would comfort me by rubbing my back and telling me it would all be okay. Except a hotel lobby wasn’t the ideal place for that. And it wasn’t going to be okay.
“Who’s on the bus?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Linda and Kiki, maybe. I was out at the pool for a bit but then came in to grab a coffee and something to eat.”
“So you weren’t with the guys?”
She glanced toward the café. “Well, Max, yes. He’s up in the guys’ room, waiting for me. But the rest of the guys took off somewhere—they said something about maybe grabbing a movie.” She shook her head. “But enough about them, tell me about you.”
“I will,” I said. “But first, I...I should apologize for before. I...”
She waved me off. “Don’t even.”
“But...”
She made a “Pfffft” noise and then looped her arm through mine as she turned me and steered us toward the café. “Water under the bridge, Nessa. I’m sorry too, though. I shouldn’t have stormed off. I only said what I did—”
I interrupted her, “Because you’re my best friend and you care.”
“Precisely. And because I think you and Dave...Will...are perfect together. But,” she held up her free hand to halt my second interruption. “I understand. If he’s going off on tour, it would be complicated, and of course, it’s your choice. As your best friend, I respect that.”
I exhaled in relief. “Thank you.”
“Even though you’re meant for each other,” she stage-muttered. If there is such a thing as a stage-mutter.
I shot her a glare.
“What?” she asked as though she hadn’t spoken. She even looked around as though it had come from someone else.
Shaking my head, I tugged her toward the counter of the café because if I was going to tell her everything that had gone on upstairs, I needed fortification.
“And you two would have stunning babies.” Another stage-mutter.
“Sandy!”
She looked at me sheepishly. “All right, I’m done.”
I stared at her, brows high. Waiting.
“Fine,” she said, rolling her eyes. “And I think you two would be very happy for all of eternity, so happy, that everyone around you would envy your relationship and think you’re disgustingly adorable and lucky to have found each other. The end.”
“You’re...” I stalled out, not sure what else to say, even if I could speak past the lump in my throat. But what I was thinking was that she was the best friend any girl could imagine and I loved her, despite (or maybe because of?) her meddling.
I faced the barista to place my order when I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. I turned my head, to see Ven striding purposefully toward us, a determined look on his face, on a mission.
It was no surprise he didn’t bother with a greeting—it wasn’t his job to make nice. “Where’s your father?” he asked me. “His phone is going direct to voicemail.”
Which made sense. He’d likely turned it off so he wouldn’t be disturbed earlier. “Uh, upstairs, last I saw him. Room seven-oh-four.”
He nodded and then glanced at Sandy. “Both of you come with me.”
“What’s going on?” Sandy asked as thoughts of coffee were forgotten and we left the counter. We fell in step behind Ven, not questioning where we were going.
He look
ed at her. “Someone slashed the tires on the bus.”
“What?” Sandy said. “How’s that possible?”
“We were spread thin today,” he said, sounding angry—likely at himself, his eyebrows low in a deep frown. “We weren’t able to watch the vehicle. I’m getting another team out here ASAP.”
As he led us to the elevators, I looked over my shoulder toward the door, even though I couldn’t see the bus outside. “What about Linda and Kiki—everyone’s okay, right?”
He nodded. “Everyone other than your father is now accounted for. Linda and Kiki are up in a room which is where I’m taking you two. Then I’ll go check on your father. I want as many people together as possible. I’m not taking any more chances.”
“This is scary,” Sandy said, grabbing my arm. “Between that crazy girl stealing your phone in Portland and now this, people are getting too close.”
I nodded. “I know.”
And, as the three of us got on the elevator (Ven closing the door in an old lady’s face, not letting her ride up with us), I realized I wasn’t just feeling freaked out; I was overwhelmed, exhausted, and with Will gone, sad and lonely.
I was so, so over this tour.
I suddenly couldn’t help but think again that with Linda back, it was time I got off the bus for good.
AUS to JFK
Sitting in a business class seat on the first leg of my journey from Austin to New York City the next morning felt bittersweet.
In the pros column, I had officially been relieved of my job on tour and was heading back to the beach house for the R&R I so desperately needed. I was also cradled in a wide, comfortable seat that felt bigger than my bunk on the bus.
The Rosewoods Rock & Roll Box Set Page 86