Mason hugged her, tightly, while she sobbed on his shoulder. Thoughts and memories flooded him, all ripping at his heart like a razor. Grief overwhelmed him as the void filled him. Aunt Mary wouldn’t be there to greet him with her sing-song voice whenever he visited. She wouldn’t call him, just to say goodnight. She had been in his life longer than anyone, even longer than his dad. And now she was gone. Overwhelmed with loss, he clung to Tessa, buried his face in her hair, and cried bitterly.
Mason stood in the alcove to his father’s study twirling the small photo between his fingers. He didn’t know how to start the conversation, so he just waited until his dad noticed him.
“Hey, buddy. How you holding up?”
Mason shrugged. “OK. I guess.”
His dad left the desk, slung his arm around Mason’s shoulder and pulled him into the room. “Most of the arrangements are made. We still need to order flowers. You know how she loved flowers. I found a guy who makes custom pieces. I thought you’d like to pick out something special from you and Tessa.”
He nodded. “She’d like that.”
His dad let out a long, pained sigh. “I know it’s hard, but she had a great life. A long life. Surrounded by people who loved her very much. She watched you and Tessa and Lucas grow up, and you know how much she adored Michael and the twins. I’m glad that we were able to make her happy.”
There were tears in his dad’s eyes, the first Mason had ever seen, and he realized how much she meant to him. Aunt Mary had lived in the penthouse with his dad and mom for over twenty years. They took care of her. They hired a private nurse to help her shower and dress every day, even though the woman was still able to take care of herself.
His dad’s eyes dropped to the photo. “What do you got there, Mase?”
Mason stopped fidgeting with it but didn’t show him the picture. “I found this in one of Aunt Mary’s photo albums. I was wondering if you were going to invite . . .” He didn’t know what to call her. Anything with the word mom or mother in it didn’t seem right. Those words belonged to Audra Abelman-Wilder. He passed the photo to his dad. “Her.”
A pained expression darkened his father’s features as he stared at the picture, and it took a long time before he answered. “I called her early this morning.”
Mason held his breath, unnerved by the shiver that ran through him and what to expect if he saw this woman again after all the years that had gone by. “Is she coming?”
Another pause. “I don’t think so.” His father handed him the photo . “I’m sorry, Mase. She’s got her own life, and it seems to be all she cares about.”
The blow hit Mason like a slap in the face. He should be relieved, he told himself. He didn’t want a reconciliation with this woman. Although he had a million questions for her, none more pressing than why she left him and why she never returned. “Did she ask about me?”
The tension in his father’s brow distorted the man’s face with a mixture of anger and sorrow. A few beats passed before he met Mason’s eyes. “All this woman ever talks about is herself. I told her about you, though. I told her you were a successful musician. One of the best drummer’s in the world.” The corner of his mouth quirked into a half smile. “Even better than me. She said she was happy for you. And not the least bit surprised. It’s your talent that brought you to me, you know.”
Mason shook his head. “What do you mean?”
“I didn’t know you were my son. You know that part. I hadn’t seen Kendall in years before she showed up with you at her side. You were three or four. Do you remember the first time we met? The first time you played my drums? The big blue drums. That’s what you used to call my old Pearl kit.”
Of course, Mason remembered that kit. He’d never seen drums that big. They were gargantuan. His foot didn’t reach the bass pedal, so he’d kicked the drum skin with the toe of his sneaker. Everyone had been so impressed that he had simulated the sound with his foot. To him, it was the obvious thing to do. He vaguely remembered playing them. He’d been too young to remember details, but the emotion he felt when he played them stayed with him. Just like he didn’t really remember Kendall. He remembered missing her and wondering when she was coming back to visit, but he didn’t remember her.
“You were probably too young to remember the day I first met you,” his dad said. “Immortal Angel had just made it big and we played a local gig. She showed up with you later that night. You took one look at my drum kit and your mouth gaped open.” His dad smiled at the memory. “You were mesmerized. And when you played, that’s when I knew you were my kid.” His dad ran a hand over his jaw. “I don’t think I ever told you this, but Kendall thought another guy was your father.”
“Who?”
“Just some guy from The Quadrangle. It’s not important.”
“Did he take a paternity test? Is that how he found out he wasn’t my father?”
“No. I don’t think so. Apparently, Aunt Mary bought you a little drum set on a whim. The moment you started playing, Kendall knew I was your dad. A DNA test proved it, but that was just a formality.” He placed his arm around Mason’s neck and drew him in for a hug. “We have Aunt Mary to thank for bringing us together.”
The shake in his father’s voice made him tear up. Not only had Aunt Mary taken care of him when he was a baby, she was responsible for reuniting him with his dad. If it weren’t for her, he wouldn’t have grown up in this enormous circle of love and support. He wiped a tear from his eye, and saw that his father did the same.
The funeral was hard on Mason. The finality of it sunk in. Aunt Mary was gone. Tears had flowed freely down his cheeks at the gravesite. He’d clung to Tessa. To his mom. To his dad. They had all cried for Aunt Mary.
He’d been in a stupor on the way home, not saying much while his gaze remained focused on the back of the limo driver’s head. As he sat on his living room couch, still in his suit jacket and staring at the blank television screen, he wished this day was over. A part of him wanted time to speed up, so the pain of his loss would diminish. The other part of him wanted time to stand still, so all the memories of Aunt Mary would remain fresh.
“Are you OK, Mase?” Tessa sat next to him and rubbed his knee. She’d changed out of the black dress she wore to the burial and put on a pair of jeans and a tank top.
He nodded. “I’ll be OK. It’s just so hard to get used to. It’s the first time anyone close to me has died.”
Tessa loosened his tie and opened the top two buttons of his shirt. “Do you want me to do anything? Make you something to eat?”
“No. I’m not hungry.” He pulled the tie over his head and balled it in his fist. He needed to clear his head. “I’m gonna go for a walk.”
Concern filled Tessa’s eyes, and her face wrinkled with worry. “Do you want me to come with you?”
He tried to force a smile for the first time in his life, but his mouth wouldn’t comply. “Nah. I’ll be all right.” He ditched the suit, threw on an old pair of jeans and a T-shirt, and headed outside. He stepped out of his apartment building and only made it to the curb before he stopped, worried about recognition. Everyone knew him in the neighborhood and usually no one bothered him, but with the publicity from Immortal Angel attending the funeral, stalkers or paparazzi might be congregating nearby in hopes of spotting his dad. A quick sweep of the vicinity didn’t expose anyone that appeared to be a threat. Most were Upper West Side types going about their business without regard for anything around them, as most New Yorkers did.
He nearly made it to the corner before someone called his name. Automatically, he turned his head, never expecting the stunning woman in black. She wore a short trench coat over a pencil skirt that fell mid-calf. White gloves covered her hands. A large brimmed hat, also black, rested on her head, while a sleek ponytail held her sandy blond hair at the back of her neck.
“I’ve been walking in front of your flat for an hour trying to work up the nerve to have the doorman ring you,” she explained. “I couldn
’t go back to London without seeing you. I just couldn’t.”
He had no idea who this woman could be. She obviously wasn’t a fan or the paparazzi. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?”
She removed her dark glasses to reveal water glistening in her eyes, as her mouth pulled back in a small pained smile. “It’s me, Mason. I’m your mother.”
He wasn’t in the mood to deal with a psycho fan and shook his head at her with annoyance. “Look, this isn’t funny. My aunt just died—” There was something familiar about her eyes. Something that made the hair on the back of his neck prickle. He looked closer at her, his mouth still hanging open, and recognition hit him like a sledgehammer. It was her.
She was nothing like he remembered. Although he could never fully visualize Kendall’s face, he always had a mental image of her messy hair and disheveled clothing. Her appearance couldn’t have been more different from the female role models that had surrounded him as a kid. His mom, Aunt Kira, Jessi and Alyssa were the women figures in his life back then, and Kendell didn’t compare to their style and polish. The woman who stood in front of him right now was both regal and elegant. And she had a British accent, which was even more confusing.
“I know you probably don’t remember me,” she pleaded with him. “It was such a long time ago. I’m so sorry I’ve never kept in touch. I just thought that you had a life here, and I had a life in England. I thought it best that I leave it at that.” She looked him up and down. “I can see I was right. Jimmy did a fine job raising you.”
Mason’s head was swirling with an array of emotions, confusion at the forefront. “Why are you here? Now? What do you want?”
“I came for Aunt Mary’s funeral, of course. I wasn’t going to. I hadn’t seen her in so many years. I thought there was no reason to come back to the States. There’s nothing for me here.” She lowered her eyes. “Nothing except bad memories. At the last minute I decided I should do right by her and pay my respects. After all, she was the only one who stepped in and helped me when you were a baby.”
Two girls slowed as they walked by, one whispering under her hand to the other. Both eyed Mason with excitement, but the sight of Kendall, dressed in black from head to toe, must have reminded them that he just lost someone close to him, because they didn’t approach.
At the last minute, one of the girls stepped toward him. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
He nodded at her. “Thank you.” And she moved on.
Kendall’s head swiveled and she watched the two girls continue down the street, who kept glancing back at Mason. “You’re famous.” She said it as if she didn’t know that he’d been a celebrated drummer most of his life, living in the spotlight.
“I’ve been famous since I was 10, when I first appeared on The Oprah Winfrey Show.”
Her mouth hung open in a surprised smile. “You met Oprah?”
He gaped at this woman, who didn’t know him at all and obviously never bothered to find out what had been going on in his life for the past two decades. And did she really just say that she had nothing left here to come back to? How about her fucking son?
Another small group of people passed and their heads turned in his direction, but they kept walking. Soon, a crowd would form, and he couldn’t deal with that right now. “I gotta go.”
She placed her hand on his arm, the first physical contact he’d had from her since he was probably three years old. “Please don’t leave,” she begged. “Let’s have some tea. Or coffee. Ten minutes is all I ask. Let’s sit down and talk for a bit. I don’t know if we’ll ever have this chance again.”
Her pleading tone got to him, and curiosity nagged at him. He wanted to hear what she had to say, so he agreed. The coffee house was the best choice and the closest. He had no intention of bringing her up to his apartment. Once they ordered and sat at a small table, he pulled out his phone.
“Are you texting your father?” Kendall asked, a wave of concern in her voice. “He doesn’t know I’m here.”
“No. I’m texting my girlfriend. She’s at my apartment and I don’t want her to worry about where I am.”
“You have a girlfriend? I thought you’d be married by now.”
Another factoid that had escaped her which could have easily been clarified with a simple phone call. Or if she just picked up an entertainment magazine. Or searched for his name online. “Why didn’t you tell my father you were here? Were you at the funeral?”
She exhaled and her chest deflated. “I know I’m not welcome. These people don’t want me here, so I just stayed in the background at the cemetery so no one would see me. I followed you home. That’s how I knew where you lived. It’s an impressive building. I’m glad you’re well off, but then again, with Jimmy and Immortal Angel, there was never any doubt about that.”
Mason had thought about this day hundreds of times. He always thought that if he ever saw her again he’d blurt out the question he’d been waiting a lifetime to ask, but he was too stunned. He wanted to hear what she had to say, which, so far, wasn’t much. “Why did you leave?” The heavy accusation in his voice delivered its intended blow, and she winced.
She looked as if she tried to wrinkle her brow, but it remained perfectly smooth, obviously cemented in place by an injectable cosmetic procedure. “I had no future here. I wanted to make something of myself. Your father and . . .” she paused, a hostile grimace making its presence known for a brief few seconds before she righted her mouth. “The others,” she continued, “didn’t like me much. I can only imagine the poisonous things those unkind people told you about me.”
Mason’s defenses rose. How dare this woman pass judgement on people who loved and supported him? “If you’re referring to the members of Immortal Angel and their wives, they’re my family.”
She raised her head. “Those people that you call your family basically blacklisted me in the music industry. They—” She abruptly stopped talking and let go of the hostility that was brimming on her words. “It’s not important anymore. It was a long time ago, and I’ve moved on.”
She was trying to put blame on other people and that was bullshit. He was her son and she left him and never came back. He wasn’t going to let her evade the question. “I deserve an answer. Why did you leave?” She reached across the table and covered his hand with hers, a sentimental gesture meant to comfort him, the first he could remember. He dropped his eyes to her hand and noted her perfectly polished fingernails. A French manicure, he thought it was called. He abruptly pulled his hand away, not wanting any physical contact with this woman.
“I couldn’t take care of you. I didn’t have a job. All I knew how to do was sing, and that dream was taken away from me. I didn’t plan on leaving. Once I confirmed Jimmy was your father, I thought he’d help me financially and help raise you.” She took a sip of her tea, pausing to stare into the cup as she cradled it in her hands. “I know he would have. He loved you from the moment he met you. To be honest, I didn’t give him a chance. I met someone. A producer who promised to make me a star. It was my one chance to become something.”
Pleading blue eyes sought his. He knew that look. It was filled with dreams not yet realized, so close you could practically reach out and touch them, but never close enough to fully grab hold of. He’d seen the look in Tessa’s eyes when she was a teenager and rushing through college so she could finally embark on a full-time music career.
“I couldn’t pass it up. I had to reach for the stars. I didn’t want to leave you, Mason. But I had to. I knew your father would give you everything. He loved you, and he was well off financially. Aunt Mary was still here for you. And, although I never really liked her, I could tell Audra cared about you.” She let out a sarcastic laugh under her breath. “I never expected that relationship to last, but I guess I was wrong.”
The remark infuriated Mason. His parents loved each other and had a wonderful marriage. And why the hell would Kendall not like his mom? “What’s not to like? She’s wonderful. Were you jea
lous of her because of my father?”
“Of course not. It was never serious between Jimmy and I. It was just a fling. I have no idea why those girls didn’t like me. Audra. Kira. Alyssa. Tommy’s wife. They hated me. I always felt bullied by them. It was one of me and four of them.” She looked off to the side and shook her head, clearly reliving hurtful memories. “I never did anything to them. I barely talked to them. I guess they were just cliquey, and they decided I didn’t belong. Honestly, they were so mean to me.” She took a deep breath and shook it off. “But that’s all in the past. I haven’t thought about those people in a very, very long time. Tell me about you. What’s going on in your life?”
He started to soften as he listened to her story about how she was the outcast, but, again, her last sentence tainted his sympathy. He had been in the public eye since he was a boy. Fans knew everything about him. Why didn’t she? And why did she refer to Jessi as Tommy’s wife instead of using her name? “You could have followed my life by doing a simple Google search. Why didn’t you ever look me up? Or ask my dad about me? Or call me? Or send me a card on my birthday?” He realized his voice grew louder with each question, causing people to stare, so he made it a point to relax his rigid back.
“I’m sorry. I think it just hurt too much to see you and know I wasn’t part of your life.”
“Why couldn’t you be part of my life? Why did you leave?”
“I told you why I left. I think you want to know why I stayed away. The answer to that is simple. No one wanted me here. Right before I left, Jimmy and I had a big fight and he criticized me for being an irresponsible mother and not giving you enough attention. I couldn’t be in your life full time because I lived so far away. I stayed away because I didn’t want to hurt you by popping in every few months or every few years and then leaving. I know how selfish it sounds, and I admit it. I was selfish and self-absorbed back then. I was young. I never expected to become a mother. I didn’t know how to be a mother.” She fidgeted with her cup and stared into it. “I have no excuse. I apologize for making bad decisions.”
MASON WILDER: Radical Rock Stars Next Generation Duet Book 2 Page 13