I ripped down everything of hers and the girls that I could find and shoved it all under the bed, where it couldn’t haunt me. Out of sight, out of mind. Gibson’s doll was the last thing I put away. Before I shoved it into the darkness, I studied its opaque eyes. They were as lifeless as I felt.
As the night wore on and my bottle of alcohol dwindled, the room began to spin. Any second now I’d be puking or passing out. Either end was fine with me, so long as I could stop thinking.
While I studied the swirling ceiling and concentrated on my breathing, my cell phone rang. When I saw Chelsey’s name displayed on the screen, I considered letting it go to voicemail. Curiosity, or maybe alcohol, compelled me to pick it up though. “What?” I gruffed.
“Hey…how are you doing?” Chelsey’s voice was soft, sweet…and grating.
“My wife walked out on me, how the fuck do you think I’m doing?”
She sighed. “You’re not mad that I took her in, are you? Because she didn’t have anywhere else to go…except maybe Liam’s, and I thought you’d like it better if I took her than him.”
My hand clenched around my phone. No, I’d never get through the night thinking Liam was the one comforting Anna. If she even needed comforting. “No, I’m not mad. I’m not anything. Except drunk. That, I definitely am. In spades.” After Chelsey sighed again, I quietly asked, “How is…? How are my kids?”
Chelsey seemed to know what I’d originally meant to ask, and her answer covered a lot of ground. “Everyone is doing okay. Not great, but okay.”
I made a grunting noise into the phone. Anna was “okay” with leaving me. Awesome.
Chelsey cleared her throat. “Look, Griffin, I wanted to let you know…Anna booked a flight for tomorrow morning, and I’m taking her and the girls to the airport. If you want to see her…that’s your last chance.”
In answer, I hung up the phone. She abandoned me. Fuck if I was going to see her off.
Chapter 20
Now What?
I’m not sure what time I passed out, but it was late afternoon when I woke up. My head throbbed, but that was nothing compared to the ripping sensation going on in my chest. She was gone. They were all gone. They were probably back in Seattle by now. Maybe they’d gone to Kellan’s? It made sense that Anna would have called Kiera for help. But she could have just as easily called Jenny or Rachel, or one of her friends from Hooters. She could be anywhere. The only thing I knew for certain was that she was no longer here. I was alone.
I considered texting her. It was something we did a lot whenever I was touring without her. I’d text her, Good morning, sweet ass, I woke up with a boner thinking about you. She’d text me back, Good morning, hot stuff, if you were here, I’d take care of that for you. Then she’d go on to describe exactly what she’d do to me.
More often than not, her words would get me all hot and bothered, and I’d send her a picture of me jacking off. Sometimes video. That would get her all worked up, and we’d share a moment, even though we were thousands of miles apart. I was getting a chubby just thinking about the steamy things we used to send each other…but things were different now, and if I sexted her today, she wouldn’t respond. I was sure of it. It was just one more thing in a long list of things that I’d never get to do again.
This fucking sucked.
Sitting up on the bed made the throbbing in my head feel like someone was jackhammering my skull, but lying here thinking about my wife wasn’t helping anything. Fuck. Was she still my wife? Or were we separated and on the fast track to divorce? I had no fucking clue, and that scared the shit out of me.
My future had always seemed so clear to me, like I was swimming through tropical waters. I could see every pebble of possibility, every coral of comfort, every fish of fame that was going to come my way. Now though, the water was so murky, I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. And it was iced over. And covered in concrete. The treasure buried deep beneath the waves was so unobtainable to me now, it seemed ridiculous that I’d once had my fingers buried deep in the gold. I’d had it all, and now…I had nothing.
Well fuck that. I wasn’t about to just sit here wallowing in woe-is-me crap while my world turned to shit. I had time to fix this, so that was exactly what I was going to do.
Grabbing my jacket off the floor, I strutted out of my room. I was going to get what I deserved, then get my wife and kids back. Anna’s smile flashed through my brain, followed quickly by Gibson’s laugh and Onnika’s curls. Goddammit, I already missed them so much, it was hard to function. I had a job to do though.
I decided I had to make do with the best of a bad situation. Yes, the album sucked…but no one outside of my family knew that. If I could somehow convince the world that it was awesomeness dipped in awesomeness, then maybe I could collect enough preorders to make a dent in my debt. A small part of my brain warned me that preorders could be returned later, but I ignored that part. I had to try to make the album successful. I had to try to earn some of my cash back. It was the only option I had left.
Over the next month, I did everything I knew how to do as a promoter. I hit every TV show, radio station, club, and newspaper in town, begging all of them to showcase me. But no one was biting. I tried to keep my thoughts off Anna and the girls while I scrambled for attention, but it was impossible to do; they were on my mind twenty-four/seven. Eventually I broke down and called Anna. My hands were slick with sweat when I dialed her number, and my fingers were shaking when I brought the phone to my ear. I’d never been more nervous to talk to my wife, not even in the beginning, when she was just a hot chick I wanted to bang. But now…there was so much between us, and so much at stake that I could lose, if I hadn’t lost it already. I was a wreck, and she hadn’t even picked up yet.
Her voice was cool and distant when she did answer the phone. “I was beginning to think you weren’t ever going to call,” she stated, her voice flat and lifeless.
Instead of telling her how much I missed her, how nervous I was to talk to her, how scared I was about my future, about our future, I let the shell surrounding me harden; it was the only way I could get the words out. “I wanted to check on the girls. Are they all right? Where are you guys staying?”
A long, controlled exhale met my ear, like she was fighting her own emotional battle. I wasn’t sure she if she was going to respond, but after a while, she finally did. “We’re staying at Kellan and Kiera’s for now. Gibson…asks for you every day, but she’s fine, I think.”
That damn lump in my throat returned. I hated the thought of my little girl being denied something she wanted. She should have everything, wrapped in a pretty pink bow. God, I missed her. “Is she nearby? Can I talk to her?” My voice came out scratchy, like I’d swallowed sandpaper.
“Of course,” Anna whispered. Her voice was rough too. The line was silent a minute, then a sweet, familiar voice came on. “Daddy? Where are you? When you come home?”
A surge of something so strong went through me that I had to bite down on my knuckle to hold it together. “Soon, baby. Soon.” My throat closed, I couldn’t speak. Luckily, Gibson had lots to tell me, so I didn’t need to.
“Onnika hit me! And Ryder broke my toy! And I found a kitty, and Mommy let me keep it. Her name is Kitty Sunshine…”
She went on and on with all the details of her life that I was missing out on. The pain in my throat eased with each sentence, but the ache in my chest grew larger. I should be there. I should head home on my hands and knees, admit all my failings, and beg Anna to take me back. I should be a better husband, a better father…put all of their needs above my own…since they were all I truly lived for anyway. But still, I couldn’t leave yet. I couldn’t admit defeat. I needed to see this album through, on the off chance it might save me, and in turn, save my family. If that was even still possible. Fuck, I hoped it was. I couldn’t stomach this being the end of Anna’s and my story. She was everything I wanted, everything I needed.
So why the fuck did I let her go?
On the morning of the album’s release, I paced the living room. Chelsey had one eye on me, one eye on her laptop screen. “Any reviews yet?” I asked her for the umpteenth time.
She hit refresh, then shook her head. “No. But we didn’t give out advanced copies, so that’s to be expected.”
I nodded but kept pacing. I’d done everything I could think to do to advertise the album. I’d even gone on a public TV game show called Guess My Claim to Fame. I’d hated every second of it; the producers had decided that my claim to fame was leaving the hottest band on the planet at the height of their popularity. I’d sat there with a smile plastered on my face and let them insult, mock, and ridicule my life choices. Whatever I had to do to get people to buy the album. And today was the day I found out if anything I’d done was worth it. Fuck, it had to be worth it. I’d given up everything for this. Literally everything. If the album didn’t pay off, if I couldn’t climb out of debt and show Anna my worth…I didn’t know what I would do to win her back. And living a life without her just seemed…pointless.
“Now?” I asked Chelsey. I just wanted one review to pop up so I could know what to expect from the rest. But honestly, I knew what to expect. The album was shit, and I was fucked.
Chelsey sighed, then closed her laptop. “Maybe we should go do something…see a movie?”
“No…but thanks.” I gave her a half smile in appreciation. Then I pointed at her computer. “Can you check again?”
A review to finally come in. It was one star, and the headline read, “I WISH I COULD GIVE THIS NEGATIVE STARS!!” The reviews seemed to pour in after that, and none of them were good. “Worst album ever made!” “I could do better with my keyboard!” “My ears are bleeding!” “I want two hours of my life back.” “I think my IQ just went down after listening to this.” “It’s obvious the D-Bags are better off without him!” The only slightly positive review, and the one with the highest rating—three whole stars—said, “This made me laugh so hard I peed! Best comedy album I’ve heard in a while.”
I fell onto the couch while Chelsey softly closed her computer. I didn’t ask her to check again. I didn’t need to. The facts were clear. I was a joke.
Chelsey put a hand on my knee. “I’m so sorry, Griffin. I know you tried…”
Staring at nothing, I shook my head. “Not hard enough. I’m starting to think I don’t try anything hard enough…”
I stood, left my sister on the couch, and went to my room. I wanted to be alone, and fittingly enough, that was exactly what I was now. Completely alone.
The next morning, my dad put a hand on my shoulder. “Chelsey tells me the album flopped. Sorry, son.”
I looked up at him with a cringe. Thanks for breaking it to me gently, Dad. “Yeah, well, I can still…” My voice trailed off. I had no idea what I could still do. I was haunted by my failed TV show, hounded by critics for that joke of an album, I had no money, a massive debt that I couldn’t repay, and a wife who needed me to help raise our two daughters. But my bank account was overdrawn, and all I had left was the change in my pocket. I was so far beyond fucked, I wasn’t even sure what the proper term for it was.
I stared at my fingers curled around my coffee cup instead. Because that seemed like something I could do.
Dad sat down beside me. “Look, I get that you aren’t where you thought you would be, but that’s life, son. You get pummeled and punched, then you stand up and say fuck you, life, and keep trudging on…until you finally keel over.”
I lifted my eyes to his. “Wow…that sounds awesome. Can’t wait for that to start.”
He patted my shoulder. “I’d say it already has. But how you deal with the disappointment is still your choice. You can immerse yourself in sex, you can immerse yourself in work, barely coming up for air, you can belittle everyone who’s better off than you, trying to make yourself look better, or you can drink yourself into oblivion every night.” Dad shrugged. “Or, you could make the best of your situation, pull your head out of the clouds, be responsible and reliable, put your nose to the grindstone, and provide for those who need it. And while you’re doing it, you try to remember why you’re doing it, so you can attempt to get through each day with as much of your sanity intact as possible.”
“And how do I do that?”
He smiled. “I’m so glad you asked. The place I retired from, the place I worked my ass off for twenty-eight years, is hiring. I talked to the foreman, and he’s willing to give you a shot. It’s an entry-level position, grunt work, and it will be hard, but you’ll make a somewhat decent living. You’ll get by.”
Up until his retirement a couple years ago, Dad had worked in one factory or another for the majority of his life. When the plant he’d been at in Kansas closed and our family had moved to L.A. to live with Uncle Billy, Dad had gotten a job at a place that made machines that made other machines. It was the sort of repetitious, mind-numbing work that made my skin crawl. But Dad was right, he’d made a decent income, enough that Mom had been able to stay home with us kids. Problem was, I didn’t want a “decent” life. I wanted more.
Sighing, I told him, “Thanks, Dad, but I don’t want to work where you worked. That place sucked the life out of you. And I don’t want to get by…I want to live. I want to rock the world with my best friends. I want the woman of my dreams…my best friend…to be by my side again. I want…everything I gave up.”
Standing, Dad shrugged. “You gave it up for a reason, Griffin. But even so, it doesn’t matter. Your options aren’t what they used to be, and it’s time for you grow up. I told Tyler you’d be there Monday morning, seven a.m. sharp.”
A groan escaped me as I sank my head to the table. Seven a.m. was too fucking early to do anything productive. But again, Dad was right. It was time for me to grow up.
I was still sitting there with my head on the table, my coffee long cold, contemplating my future of perpetual monotony, when my sister, Chelsey, came over to visit. She bounded into the kitchen, and even though I wasn’t looking at her, I could feel her radiant energy. Mom was washing the dishes, and she stopped when Chelsey exclaimed, “Great news! I talked to Dustin last night. He’s coming home Monday! For sure this time!”
She squealed, and I contained a groan. Her life was getting back on track Monday, while mine was falling further behind. How the fuck did this happen to me? I was on top of the world…now I was nothing. A joke. Laughed at, then discarded.
I made a moaning sound, and I heard Chelsey ask Mom, “Is he…okay?”
Mom took a puff on the cigarette in her mouth. “He’s been like that all morning. Dad got him a job. He’s…absorbing.”
I groaned again. I was in the biggest band in the world, barely doing anything that constituted real work, and now I was going to be tightening bolts for ten hours a day, six days a week, fifty-one weeks a year. More, if I didn’t take any vacation time.
Fuck. My. Life.
Feeling Chelsey sitting beside me, I lifted my head; it felt like it weighed a thousand pounds, and I was pretty sure I had a flat spot from the table. “Hey,” I muttered.
Her smile was bright and her eyes were twinkling, but I could tell she was trying to rein in her joy. “Hey, yourself. How’s it going?”
“Like Mom said, I’ve got a job now…so it’s going fantastic…” She made a scrunched, I’m-sorry-but-too-giddy-to-frown expression. “Dustin’s coming home, huh?” I asked.
A supernova smile erupted on her face, and she nodded so hard a blond curl fell from a clip in her hair. “Monday.”
“That’s great, sis. You deserve your happy ending.” One of us should have one.
Like she could hear my silent sullenness, she put a hand on my arm. “You do too, Griff. You’re not such a bad guy, you know? A little self-absorbed, maybe, but we all are, to some extent.”
Even though I nodded in agreement, I didn’t quite agree with her assessment. She was the most selfless person I’d ever met. And me…I’d rather take a mundane job that I k
new I was going to hate than go home and face the guys. And my wife. I was a fucking coward, too proud to throw in the towel. But at least if I stayed here and took this job, I’d be able to help my family. That was one bright spot, I supposed.
Tilting her head, Chelsey regarded me with appraising eyes. “Did you learn anything?”
That my ideas were shit and I should never take my own advice? Yeah, I think that one had finally sunk in. With a half smile, I told her, “Yeah, never hire someone off the Internet.”
Chelsey laughed, but then stopped. It wasn’t really funny. I’d spent everything I’d had on that worthless album. Staring at the table, I sighed. “I think I finally get what you were talking about…”
She squeezed my arm. “What do you mean?”
Looking over at her, I felt my chest compress tighter. Maybe I was having a heart attack. Or maybe this was just what despair felt like. “The dog and the steak. I think I get what you were saying. And you were right…I understand too late. The steak is already gone…”
Switching my gaze to my mom, I thought about her relationship with Dad. They’d been together forever, since Mom was eighteen and Dad was twenty-eight. They’d gone through so many ups and downs in their marriage, but they were still a team. United. Where had I gone so wrong? Why had my team fallen apart? I knew the answer to that though. Anna and I fell apart because I stopped acting like we were a team. I kept her in the dark, made all the choices, and then lied my fucking ass off. The only surprise here was that she hadn’t left me sooner.
“She was my best friend,” I whispered. “They all were…and I tossed them aside for something I thought I needed more. I’m such a fucking moron.” When I looked back at my sister, her eyes were watery; mine felt the same. “What do I do now, Chelse?”
She stared at me so long, I started getting uncomfortable. I felt like I’d just pried open my chest and exposed my innards, and I was going to bleed out if she didn’t say anything. Just when I was about to repeat my question, because the silence was killing me, she spoke. “You forget about what you never had…and you go after what you lost…even if you have to crawl through the mud to do it.”
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