by Jessie Cooke
I know this sounds like excuses...a big sob story. But from my heart, as a dying man with nothing to lose, I hope that you'll finally be able to get some peace in your own heart by knowing all of these things I should have told you back then. I drank because I couldn't face life without it. I have hated myself almost from the moment I was born. It was what I was taught, what I lived for eighteen years. There were two people in my life that made me believe that I could change that, at least for a short time. Garrett was one. That big, tough guy dropped everything, anytime I needed him. He loved me, unconditionally and he taught me how to be a brother which might also be hard for you to understand, but if I hadn't had my brothers in both of the clubs I've been a part of...I would have faded away a lot sooner.
The other person in my life that gave me hope Celia, was you. I fell hard and fast for you. I saw hope in your smile and love in your eyes and I wanted to dive into them. I wanted to wrap myself in your arms like a cocoon and not come out until I was something beautiful, and lovable. But when I started thinking about your future and what kind of husband and father I might be, I was terrified. I didn't know anything about either of those jobs but what I had seen at home, and that was a freak show. But even then, I didn't give up hope that I could learn...albeit slowly. It wasn't until that day I looked into my father's eyes for the last time that I lost all hope. I believed what he wanted me to believe...what he'd told me my entire life. I was a sinner and God didn't love me, and if he didn't love me, how could anyone else. I believed I would ruin you and as hard as it was to leave you...and believe me darlin' that was the hardest fucking thing I've ever done...the idea of destroying you the way that he destroyed my mother, or our children, the way he destroyed me...that was even harder. So, I got on my bike and I kept going.
But Celia, I carried you with me, every second of every day. You lived in my heart. You owned my soul. No man will ever love a woman as much as I loved you. I didn't choose alcohol over you. My drinking was completely separate from how I felt about you. I just never had the tools to figure out how to reconcile the two. I only wish I knew then, what I know now...back then I believed if I stopped drinking I would die. Ironically, I'm dying because I didn't. And even more ironic...what I gave up, you, and the future I might have had with you, had been slowly killing me all along. Each day I lived without you, pierced another piece of my soul until it was left with big, gaping holes that could have never been repaired by anyone but you.
Saying I'm sorry to you is like owing someone a million dollars and handing them a penny as the first payment. It's so small and insignificant and it could never repair the damage I've done. But I am sorry, Celia. I'm so very sorry. I'm sorry for you, and for me...and mostly for the ‘us’ we might have been. But, if there is one thing of me that you carry forward, please let it be the fact that you were loved beyond reason. You are the most lovable person I've ever met. So, one day, if it hasn't happened yet, when a man looks into your beautiful eyes and tells you that he loves you, please let your experience with me prove that is entirely possible. Please don't carry what I did to you like a weapon to be used against someone else who might be able to love you enough to undo the damage I did to you. I love you, Celia. I will go home to meet my true father, loving you.
Celia's hands shook as she held the letter. They shook even harder when she realized she was holding it. She looked beside her, Saint was gone. Had he ever really been there? She didn't know. Maybe she was crazy...or maybe, God just knew how badly she needed to see him, one more time. She let the letter fall to her lap and she opened the tiny envelope. The chain Saint wore around his neck slid out into her hand. The cross was heavy against her palm as she held it. She sat there looking down at it, tears dripping onto it and surprisingly she was suddenly filled with a feeling of contentment...or peace, in her heart. She finally felt like she could forgive Saint for leaving her and herself for all the reasons she had perceived he'd done that. It was what her baby needed from her...Saint's baby girl. When Maddie was older, Celia would give her the necklace and she hoped her little girl chose to wear it always, just like her daddy had. She would never stop loving Saint, but suddenly she felt like she'd be able to keep holding him in her heart...and moving on at the same time. She folded the letter and put it with the cross in the pocket of her t-shirt...over her heart.
Celia had a lot to think about on her way home and the fact that she was about to lose her home...her child's home, was put on the backburner. She didn't even notice the envelope sitting on the table next to the door when she stepped inside and dropped her keys. She'd find out later that envelope held the deed to her home. It had been paid off and she now owned it free and clear. All the man at the mortgage company would be able to tell her would be that it came from an anonymous donation...and in his words, “Maybe it was just a random saint that saw you were in need and wanted to help.” Those were words that Celia would carry with her next to the words in Saint's letter, for the rest of her life.
As she walked down the hallway that day though, Aunt Lisa was in the kitchen and she called out to her as she passed by. Celia kept going. She needed to hold her baby. She needed to feel the piece of Saint that she had left in her arms.
She found Maddie in her toy room, building a castle with her blocks. Celia sat down on the rug next to her and said, “Can Momma have a hug?”
“Sure.” Maddie stepped into her mother's arms and Celia pulled her in close and held her tight. In a strangled voice Maddie said, “Momma! You're squeezing me so tight.”
Celia let go and held her back slightly so that she could see her face. She looked into “Saint’s” eyes and smiled. “I'm sorry baby. Momma has a few broken pieces and your hugs always make them stick back together.” Maddie giggled and then she hugged her mom again, as tight as her little five-year-old arms could squeeze.
“I love you, Momma.”
“I love you too,” she told her baby. Then in her head she whispered, “And Saint...I love you too.”
Epilogue
Rusty stood next to his brother, looking out over the park. “It looks amazing, Bro, even better than when we were kids,” Matt said.
Rusty smiled and nodded. It was one of his proudest accomplishments...one that would live forever. His eyes scanned the ornamental trees that had been recently planted, the benches that were restored to their former luster, the flowers in every vibrant color he could imagine. The dark green grass was interspersed with walkways, covered in cobblestones and leading to the pond that was now clear and beautiful and stocked with colorful Koi, and a bridge now arched over it...and just beyond that bridge, overlooking the pond was a white arbor in a small meadow surrounded by flowers, where Rusty now stood next to his brother, in front of his father waiting to marry the love of his life.
He had spent the past year coaching the kids and during that time, Rusty had come up with the idea of sprucing up the park a bit. But, once the project started, the ideas from the kids and the community just kept rolling in and Rusty moved from one project to the next...the opportunity to think creatively and watch as his ideas and sketches came to life filled him with a purpose and a pride in himself unlike any he'd felt before.
One day as he was sitting underneath a tree, sketching a picture of an area he wanted to put in the park for people to come and meditate, or pray or just think quietly, Blue walked up behind him and said, “Hey, you think this is it?”
“What's that?” he asked her.
“You think this is the big thing you and I were destined for...and that's why all the bad stuff happened, to get us here?”
Rusty wasn't sure why all the bad stuff had happened, but he did strongly believe that rebuilding the park was a good thing to do for the kids and the community. From that day on, Blue designated herself as his “design partner.” She had some really great ideas...the best one was to have a cross, the shape of the one that Saint used to wear, carved into the center of the meditation area.
The other kids came up with some
great ideas too. Rusty let Isaac help the contractors work on the football field and ultimately the boy that they all had thought was self-absorbed came up not only with an entire sports center where not only football but basketball, soccer and even tennis could be played...he'd also come up with an idea to put in a section of play equipment that could be easily accessed by “special needs” kids. Rusty found out that day why Judge Gannon had been so diligent in his job when it came to drunk drivers. Isaac brought his little brother out to the park that day. He was ten years old and he was in a wheelchair. He was non-verbal and because of a closed head injury when he was only six, he functioned at a kindergarten level. He'd been struck in front of their home by a drunk driver in the middle of the day. Rusty's heart both broke for the family and warmed when he saw Isaac with his brother. It was also a good reminder to him of how blessed and lucky he was.
The spot where the wedding would be held today was his idea. He'd already been thinking of asking Shelly to marry him, but he waited until the arbor was up and the flowers had all been planted around it and then he'd brought her out there in the moonlight one night and he'd gotten down on one knee and proposed. She accepted, tearfully and after they made love in his backyard, he showed her the one-year chip he'd gotten at his meeting that day.
His parents got home in time for the wedding. His mother had taken Shelley under her wing and the two of them were almost inseparable as they planned the wedding. The funniest part Rusty thought, to an outside looking in, would be the rest of the participants. They had worked with a caterer who was a close friend of Dax's...a fiery little woman named “Hurricane Katrina.” Angel and Dax's brother Gunner's old lady, Tammy had thrown the bridal shower at the clubhouse and his mother had raved about what a beautiful event it had been.
His sister Chloe and her kids were there. Matt's wife and their kids were there and all of Rusty's friends from his new life, including the kids he coached, and their parents were there. He turned now and looked toward the “meditation circle” as Blue had named it and he was filled with warmth instantly, and he knew that Saint was there too.
The music began to float out of the big speakers the prospects had brought out from the ranch and set up and Rusty turned again toward the white tent at the end of the long white aisle that ran between the seats. The flaps were pulled back and Shelly stepped out. He knew he loved her months ago, but at that moment he felt something almost magical when he looked at her. She filled him with hope for his future, something he had lacked for way too long. This was his second chance...she was his second chance and in the vows he'd written himself, he planned on making a promise to her that he would never let a day go by when he didn't remind her of just how much he loved her and how important she was in his life. He also intended to promise her that if he ever felt like he had to take a drink, he'd come to her first. He knew relapse was part of addiction and so did Shelly, but they intended to put each other first always, and be there for the other one...not to judge, but to guide.
He smiled as the audience stood up and she made her way down the aisle. She was barefoot with an ankle bracelet made of flowers around one foot and all ten toes painted the same bright lavender color as her hair. Her dress was made of off-white lace and the wreath she wore on her head was made of twisted wildflowers. The tattoos on her arms popped with color under the afternoon sun and he thought she looked like a fairy...come to wave her magic wand and save his life. She'd already done that once. That day in the clubhouse when she'd been willing to talk to him about going to a meeting rather than having the sex they'd gone upstairs to have. She'd opened up her own wounds to soothe his. She'd led him, gently into this new life and he couldn't wait to see where else she would take him in the years to come.
Dax walked next to her down the aisle and when they reached Rusty he kissed Shelley on the cheek and gave her a wink before handing her over to her fiancé. Rusty took her hand and prepared himself to vow to love, honor and cherish her until the day they both got called back “Home.”
The next book in the series is Chopper…
Excerpt from Chopper
Chapter One
Chelsea’s days generally started as a battle with herself. She didn’t want to get out of bed. She didn’t want to start a day over that she already knew would feel just like the one she lived the day before. She was doing all the things she’d promised herself, and her parents, and her sponsor, and her counselor, that she would do…but some days she had to wonder if it was all worth it. There was only one reason she continued to get up every day, though…so with a sigh, she pushed up out of bed and readied herself for another twelve hours of absolutely nothing new.
Chelsea had big plans for her life when she was a kid. By now she was supposed to be a famous artist, with showings in a gallery in New York or LA. While she waited for the shower to heat up, she made a mental list of things she had to be grateful for. It was a trick she’d learned in rehab. Some days it worked and some days it just made her want to kick her own Pollyanna ass. Today was one of those days. She was in a bad mood and happy she had the night off from her job at the diner. Four nights off, and she needed it. She was way too pissy to paste on a smile and brew coffee for Boston’s finest. Today she didn’t want to count her blessings. She wanted to feel sorry for herself and dwell on what she hadn’t accomplished instead of what she had. Hopefully one day of concentrating on that would get it out of her system…and the rest of the weekend could be all about having fun.
She stepped into the shower and tried to imagine the warm water washing the stress away. It was another trick her therapist taught her. Some days, though, there just wasn’t enough hot water to accomplish it. She closed her eyes while she washed her hair and tried to visualize her blessings…all listed out on a chart in front of her, resplendent with photos as well. She was alive…that one was always on top. It was a miracle she’d lived through her late teens and early twenties. She had done so many drugs over the years, taken so many pills, smoked whatever was handed to her, drunk whiskey by the bottle…the very fact that she was still breathing was enough to give her hope on her good days. On the bad ones, she still added it to the list, but she wondered if anyone was really any better off because of it.
Chelsea came from a good family. She’d graduated high school and started community college six years earlier. She had plans to go there for two years and then transfer to a university…hopefully in New York. Her parents were not rich, but they were helping as much as they could. She had a job in a diner and she was determined to save enough money so her move to New York wouldn’t be a hardship on anyone. She had everything mapped out…until the day she met Wayne and took a long and harrowing detour.
That night started with a party she hadn’t wanted to go to. It was there she first laid eyes on Wayne. He was a few years older and he was hotter than any guy she’d ever been with. He told her he worked as a mechanic and took her outside and showed her his Camaro. Every girl at the party wanted him…but to her delight, Wayne only seemed to have eyes for her. Chelsea fell hard and fast, and by the time she realized Wayne had a little problem holding down a job…a big problem with telling the truth…and a thirst for alcohol and sex that bordered on the insatiable, they were already living together.
Her parents didn’t approve, but Chelsea believed she loved him. She loved her parents, though, so she was determined to keep the peace. The stress of pretending to her parents that everything was okay, while she supported Wayne and his bad habits, and tried to carry a full load at school, quickly became overwhelming. By the end of her sophomore year in college, she was nowhere near ready to transfer to a university, and she had to take a summer school course to make up the classes she’d dropped mid-semester, because she had to work. That was when Wayne decided to “help” her. He had one of his friends hook her up with some pills that would keep her alert so she could stay awake while she worked and/or studied around the clock. Chelsea knew she could have said no, and she was way past blaming Wayne
for all her problems, but she didn’t say no. She took the pills, and then she took more. She stayed up for days at a time, and then she took another pill to come down. She started skipping classes and skipping work. Her days became a blur of partying with Wayne and his friends during the day, and having wild, uninhibited sex at night. She was usually so wasted that she barely remembered it the next day. She knew Wayne was kinky and sometimes he let his friends watch, but as long as she wasn’t sober, she didn’t care.
As the months and then years went by, Chelsea’s dependence on the drugs and Wayne, who supplied them to her, became complete. She drove away her old friends and ultimately her parents who were devastated by what she’d become. But still, she couldn’t leave Wayne. She needed him, or so she thought. He kept a roof over their heads somehow, despite not having a regular job. He never hurt her and he always made sure she had what she needed to feel good. It wasn’t until one night of extreme partying that it suddenly hit her what she had become. She woke up feeling sick and pulled herself out of bed, naked and obviously well-used, and ran for the bathroom. While she was on her knees in front of the toilet, snippets of the night before started playing in her head like a home movie. She saw herself in the center of the room, surrounded by men…most of whom she didn’t know. Wayne had brought home some fucking awesome X that day, and she’d taken it…maybe more than one. She remembered dancing and taking off her clothes, and fucking. A lot of fucking, but as the spasms in her stomach started, and the sour alcohol left in her gut from the night before began to resurface, it dawned on her that all of that fucking hadn’t been with Wayne, and worse yet…it hadn’t been with only one man at a time.