Spencer set down the barbecue tongs he'd been holding and stepped toward the two of them. “Good to meet you both. I've heard so much about you.”
Couldn't say the same about you. Chris kept the remark to himself as he shook his stepfather's hand. Weird. Odd. Stepfather. Whoa. Yeah, that's what this man was to them. He needed to get something said so that no one thought him as rude. “Nice to meet you.” Simple, polite and forced, but it put in effort.
“You look just like your mother,” Spencer said to Melody.
“Who are you?” the little girl playing in the water demanded. She didn't look much like Bridgette. She had darker hair and greenish brown eyes. Chris studied Spencer, looking for the resemblance there. Only a slight one.
“Honey, we talked about this. I told you I was bringing your brother and sister over today. Say hi, Miriam,” Bridgette said gently, tousling her hair.
Chris bristled at the affection. Hell, this would be a long few days if he didn't get his feelings in check.
“Hi,” she muttered, glaring at them both.
Yeah, I feel you, kiddo. This isn't quite right to me either.
Zach approached them. “Finally, a brother in the midst of all these girls! Do you do any magic tricks?”
Chris laughed, taken aback by the question. “Nope. You into magic, huh?”
“Yeah, but everything I've done seems so babyish. I'm looking for bigger and better, but Mom and Dad don't want me to have any of that stuff yet.” He rolled his eyes.
“We told you, keep up your good grades, show some attitude progress, and we'd talk about it,” Bridgette admonished.
“Yeah, sure. You always say that.”
“And you always know this, but don't do a lot to improve the attitude, son.”
“Whatever. Can we eat soon?”
“Soon. Just about done. I hope you like good ol' fashioned barbecued burgers. It's a great day to cook outside.” Spencer moved some over to the plate from the grill, sizzling and smoking.
“I'll turn off the sprinklers!” Miriam ran out to the yard.
Chris continued his silence. It was hard to be here, to see this new family, when Bridgette tore apart theirs so long ago.
*****
Bridgette sat across from them in the living room hours later, grim faced. Time to get answers. Chris steepled his hands, then laid them flat against his jeans. He stole a glance at Melody. Her hands were clasped together in her lap.
Bridgette inhaled sharply. “I need you to listen to everything and hopefully withhold judgment. Some of this is going to be very painful to hear.”
“Sure thing,” Melody said softly.
Chris said nothing, which prompted a pleading look from Bridgette. “Go on,” he replied, unsure what else to say at the moment.
“I told you already I suffer with depression. It's not pretty.”
Chris almost said he knew a little something about it, but he didn't want to let that information out. Not here, not now.
“I think we all do at one point.” Melody crossed her legs.
“Yes, but this has been almost life long. It's a daily struggle.” She cleared her throat and ran a hand through her hair. “Things worsened after I had the two of you, and no, I'm not blaming you. I mean, I had postpartum depression to the point...” A sob erupted from her throat.
Spencer rushed into the room and sat beside Bridgette, holding her in his arms. “What your mother is trying to say is she almost committed a pretty terrifying act.”
“Did you try to kill yourself?” Chris asked, needing to just get it out there.
“No.” Bridgette sobbed against Spencer's chest.
“Okay, then what?” His patience wore thin.
“I almost hurt one of you, okay? I wasn't thinking. I wasn't-”
“Hurt one of us how? Who?” Chris demanded, not liking where this went.
“Your sister. She was just about a year and a half old. I sat there holding her, crying, trying to make sense of what I was thinking. She was in tears, too. A tantrum, about what, I don't recall. Horrible images ran through my mind, accompanied by some painful, terrifying thoughts. I put her in her crib, told you to watch her, and went to the hospital. It was the first of many stays. I couldn't properly bond with her. For years, until I left, all I saw when I looked at the two of you was the monster I'd become.”
“So you walked away with no explanation or regrets. Nothing.” He reached for his sister's trembling hand. Melody's face was as white as a ghost. “After ten years.”
“Oh, I have plenty of regrets. I regret letting this illness keep me from being a good mom to my kids. I regret the choices I made. I regret taking the coward's way out and not being honest with you when you were older. I could have called to explain, but I didn't. I figured your father would have eventually told you the truth when you were older and could understand. I take it he didn't, but I'm guessing it was more to protect you two from the truth of what I'd felt and thought. I regret how fearful I was of hurting one of you so much that I distanced myself from you. The first incident wasn't the only one where I had those thoughts. I had them again when Melody was ten. You two were fighting about something. Picking on each other, maybe. I had a headache, and your father and I were fighting a lot at the time. I walked into the living room calmly as Melody smacked you. I slapped her and told her never to raise a hand to you, or anyone else for that matter. When darker, more frightening thoughts filled my mind, I ran from the room before anything else could happen.”
“I always thought you were sick … I had no idea this was why I had a hard time remembering so much about you.” Melody trembled, finally speaking.
“I begged your father not to tell you what was really wrong with me. I didn't want you to be afraid of me, because for the longest time, I tried to make myself better. I was on and off meds, or switching them constantly. I talked to people- counselors and doctors. I tried hard to be better. If I wasn't curled up in bed feeling sorry for myself or doped up on medication that was supposed to help me feel better, but instead made me numb to everything, then I worked long hours just to get out of the house.”
Chris pursed his lips, then crossed his ankles. “I recall some of this. Well, the fighting. I recall a lot of fighting. Dad was always calm about your leaving. I found it odd.”
“Chris and I eventually stopped asking about you. We made a pact not to bog Dad down and make him want to run away, too.”
“We thought it was us. I do remember the day Mel and I were fighting. We knew something was wrong, and tried hard to be better about not fighting with each other,” Chris added. He hadn't thought deeply about the events that led to his mother's leaving in a long, long time. The only thing that resonated in his mind was her being fed up. “He said you cheated. Was that true?”
“That's what I told him when I prepared to leave. I said I'd found someone else. That wasn't true. I'd hoped by taking some time for myself to regroup, away from the reminders of what I'd almost done and who I'd become, that I would be able to let go. At first, I had every intention of coming back. I'd fought too hard not to. But then, freedom felt good.” Bridgette cringed. “I wasn't a prisoner to my thoughts any more.”
Chris' blood boiled. This story wasn't getting any better at all.
“I remember the day I left, and it repeats in my mind. You were playing drums. I wanted to tell you how good you were. Instead, I walked past the room. I didn't know what I would really say or do. I remember Melody napping. She was sick. I wanted to cover her up and kiss her one more time and tell her that despite how I'd acted, I loved her. Instead, I walked away, my heart breaking every time. I wasn't any good for you two, and it took ten long years to realize it. You were better off without me, since I wasn't physically or mentally there half the time anyway.”
“And then you moved on.” Melody choked out a cry.
“No. Not for a long, long time. Spencer was my doctor and therapist, until we fell in love. He helped me through and showed me I could ma
ke it past this. I never went looking for him, never searched for love, because I didn't feel I deserved it. He's been prodding me to contact you for a few years now, but I was, and still am, afraid. And Chris, you aren't saying it, but I can see, especially from the things I've learned about you, that you suffer from depression, too. Don't let it ruin your life.” Her tone and gaze were both pleading.
He shot to his feet. “I don't plan on it. I don't want to be like you. I don't want to leave people behind.”
“Hey! There's no-” Spencer started, also jumping to his feet. Bridgette trembled with more tears.
“Don't! Just don't!” Melody shrieked. “We don't need to get so heated. The past is a painful memory. What we learned is heartbreaking and scary. I hate it. I had no idea. And in a way, I wish I didn't know this, but it's done. We can either work through it or carry all this pain, and life's too damn short for that.” Her blue eyes blazed with pain and longing. “Chris, I've wondered about it for years, but never wanted to step on your toes. Now please, let's not fight.”
For his sister. He'd do this for Mel. Chris lowered to sit again, still unsure. This was not the explanation he anticipated. Damn it, he understood depression. He'd wanted it all to end, too. But he'd never hurt anyone else and had never thought of it. He couldn't imagine what Bridgette felt or went through, but there had to have been better ways to go about everything.
“What made you have kids again?” Melody asked, her voice quiet and timid.
“Lissy is our only biological child. Miriam and Zach are adopted. I wanted more kids, but I was afraid of the postpartum, especially when I did suffer again after Lissy. It got me thinking about the two of you. Spencer helped me through it. We adopted so that we could have more children in our lives, and it was a lot easier.”
Things became more clear as time went on. Would she ever contact them again after doing this for her daughter? Maybe it didn't matter. At least there was closure and an explanation.
Chapter Eighteen
“Chris and Melody are home,” Kyra said as she walked into Sunset Hills Veterinarian Clinic Tuesday afternoon to pick Taryn up from work.
Taryn logged out of the computer and looked up. “I know. He texted me when they landed. We're meeting up in a few hours.”
“Ooooh.” Kyra wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.
“Actually, he seems like he's really upset. I'm not sure what happened.” She'd known it since he called her Saturday night, but didn't have any other details aside from that. Hopefully he'd talk about it tonight.
“Meeting up with an estranged parent after twenty years? Yeah, I can see why he'd be upset. I feel for both of them. Ready to go? Do I need to drop you off anywhere?” Kyra jingled her keys.
“No, just bring me home. Chris is picking me up.” Taryn grabbed her purse and hung it on the back of the chair. “I'm ready when you are.”
“Is Mom still here?”
“I think so, but she's with someone in the back room.”
Kyra nodded. “ Figured. I guess I'll say hi to her later.”
Once settled in Kyra's car and en route to the house, Taryn decided it was time to ask a question she should have a long time ago. “Hey, my joining the band isn't dependent too much on Landon signing Baby Stetson, is it?” The suggestion had been put out there the night of Kyra's benefit concert, and it had bugged Taryn off and on.
“I don't know. He hasn't brought it up to me in a while, but then we've been focusing on the release and the tour. Do you want me to ask?”
“Umm... yes and no. I just don't want my pending placement to hold them back. I think they should be signed with or without me.”
“I'll see if I can wrangle the subject in there without directly asking. Let's see what the summer tour does. He'll see the band a lot more on the road.” Kyra pulled up in front of her house.
“You know, I'm not sure I want to live in Nashville again.” Taryn sighed. “I'm all over the place with this. I can't just easily pack up and make a move. There's always so much to think about. I want to play. I want to be in a band. Do I want the rest that comes with it?”
“I wish I had a simple answer or idea that would help,” Kyra said before she climbed out of the car to set up Taryn's wheelchair.
Taryn wished she could come up with something, as well. Too many conflicting ideas ran around in her busy brain. After Taryn made the transfer to her chair, she said, “I just want music. No complications. I know, my back and forth is enough to drive anyone crazy. It's definitely doing it to me.”
“I hear ya there.” Kyra laughed, moving ahead of her to unlock the door. “No such thing as no complications. I did the back and forth thing a lot, too.”
Taryn and Kyra spent the next few hours talking about music, memories, and the future, until the doorbell jarred them out of the conversation. Taryn checked the time. “Whoa. I didn't even get a chance to get ready! Thanks a lot for the distraction, Kyra!” she teased.
“Just do this with you hair.” Kyra demonstrated a fluff-like twist of her hands beneath her hair. “Your curls will appreciate it.”
“Ugh, it's more than that.” Taryn rolled her eyes, still smiling. “Let him in. I mean, if it's Chris.”
“Good thing you clarified, because if it was a serial killer, you'd have sentenced us to doom,” Kyra quipped before rushing to the door to answer it.
“Dork.” Taryn shook her head, laughing at Kyra's crazy antics.
“You aren't a serial killer, are you? Because I'm supposed to let you in, and I don't want to let in a serial killer,” Kyra said to whoever was at the door.
“Umm ... you two scare me with your conversations sometime,” Chris stammered, then laughed.
“And yet, you keep coming around. So you must like it somewhat.”
“Ignore her.” Taryn wheeled toward the door, eager to see him. Hell, her heart did that funny little teenage flutter thing. Weird, but kinda cool at the same time.
“You're here, so I can easily ignore her.” Chris quirked up a brow. “Who are we ignoring again?”
Taryn blushed, then chuckled.
Kyra put her hands on her hips. “Why am I being ganged up on? Shoo, the both of you! Go away! I have a song to write.”
“We're going, we're going.” Taryn followed Chris out the door.
*****
“You're really quiet tonight,” Taryn noted during dinner.
Hell, he was horrid company, and he knew it, but Chris really wanted to see Taryn tonight.“I know,” he apologized, reaching across the small table for her hand. “I'm still processing this weekend.”
“That bad? Do you want to talk about it? I'm kind of a good listener.”
“What was your first meeting with Kyra like since getting back in touch with her?”
She cringed. “Awkward. Matt brought her over to an open mic night. She had no idea I was there. Matt called me and I told him to bring her, but I wasn't sure either of them would go through with it. I approached her after she sang, but then I had to go up and play. My aide drove me that night, so I couldn't stay long and talk to her.”
“Did you have a lot of angry feelings and words you wanted to get out?”
“Yes, and no. I'd learned some things from Matt, and I had to wonder if I was blaming the wrong person. But my meeting with Kyra and yours with your mom is bound to have different feelings.”
He nodded, knowing it was true enough. “Well, aside from learning a lot of stuff about why she left, she didn't contact us for a social visit or to reconnect.” Anger flowed through his veins again. Melody hadn't been the same since she'd learned the news, and she'd burst into tears when Jameson picked them up from the airport. “This weekend, we tested to see if we were a bone marrow transplant match for our half sister. She has severe aplastic anemia.”
Taryn's jaw dropped. “Wow. Just ... wow.”
“Needless to say, I was pretty upset, but I'm not going to take out my frustration about Bridgette on a sick girl. Lissy's only sixteen. Nice girl.
Bridgette also has two other kids, but they're adopted. A whole new family.” He reached for his drink, eager to quench his thirst.
“Tough position on all of you, I think,” Taryn said softly.
“The whole weekend was an eye opener in so many aspects.” He traced the lines on her knuckles with his finger. “Tell me how the show went. I need to get off this subject for a while.”
Her smile lit up her face. “It was great! Kyra announced that she's taking us on tour with her to the crowd.”
A pang of emotion slammed him in the chest. Chris didn't want to allow his mother's exit in their life to overshadow his feelings about drumming any more, but he didn't have his heart in it the way Taryn did, either.
Most of all, he didn't want to stick around Harmony's Echo alone, and his plans of moving on felt weird after learning what he did. Did Melody fear abandonment from him too? It would explain why she prodded so much about him staying in the band.
He realized Taryn gave him an odd look. “What?”
“You went off in your own world again.”
“I did, didn't I? Damn it, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to.” He squeezed her hand, realizing that he still held it.
“Want to get out of here?”
“Not really. Well yes, but I don't want to end the night with you, even if I'm not all there.”
“We could go to the arcade, and I might let you win.” Her sly grin caught his attention.
“Let me? Drummer girl, I'll wipe you out. One of these days,” he added the last part. “But honestly. I'm not feeling it. Want to head to my place?”
“You'd have to bring me back though,” Taryn replied.
“I don't care. It doesn't bother me. I'll tell you about the weekend. There's things I don't wanna say in public about it.”
She nodded. “Okay, then let's go.”
*****
Taryn held on tight to Chris as he carried her from her chair to the couch so they could sit together. All night, he found ways to touch her- a brush of his hand on hers, hand holding in general, something. His eyes held a lot of torment, and she wondered what exactly happened out there.
Offbeat (Love and Music In Texas Book 5) Page 18