Sidewalk Flower

by Carlene Love Flores

  In his concerned look, she was reminded that Jaxon knew her better than anyone, even if he couldn’t get the city they called home for the night right.

  “Nothing’s right. It’s all wrong. And I don’t know why or how I’m gonna fix everything. And don’t tell me it’s okay because it’s not.” She grimaced and heaved a sigh before fixing her face in a defeated stare.

  “Trista Jeane Hart.” Jaxon rarely called her by her full name; he had her attention at its use now. “You should know better than that. A very wise young lady once told me as long as we’ve got just one person out there willing to stand by us no matter what, that things will always be okay.” He ignored her huff and enclosed her in a fiercely protective cage of arms which felt really nice if she was being honest. “Now, tell me, what in the bloody hell has you looking like this? And it better not be Lucky.”

  His finger moved slowly across her chin. He kissed her forehead and sat back in his seat.

  After a long moment of silence, Jaxon looked to have given up on her response. He turned the car key to trigger the stereo and digitally flipped through the collection of discs already loaded in the player.

  “Ahh.” It was an old favorite of his. “Vanny Morrison, genius.”

  He hummed along and clasped his hands together behind his head, relaxing, when a knuckle tapped on the driver side window. He sat up quickly and looked to his left. It was hard to see. Whoever it was held a flashlight straight into his field of vision. Jaxon brought up his left hand to shield his eyes, his right one fisted over the top of his black zippered pants. Another couple taps clunked against the glass so he lowered the window a few inches.

  “Excuse me, but the show’s over, folks. Ya need to be headin’ out now.”

  The guard angled his light away from Jaxon’s face and scanned it her way. She pulled the hem of her black and silver dress down to cover her thighs. She could imagine what the guard must be thinking he had stumbled upon. She gave a slight smile, although she wasn’t in the mood.

  “Oh hey, Jimmy. Hey, it’s me, Jaxon.” He angled his head allowing Jimmy to get a better look.

  “Oh, Mr. James. I’m sorry; I didn’t realize it was you in there. Is everythin’ okay? It’s late and I’m lockin’ up the lot for the night,” the venue’s security manager said in his southern accent, loosening up his stance and leaning against the doorframe as he spoke with Jaxon. She remembered saying hi to him earlier that night during the band’s credentials check.

  “Yeah, Jimmy. Everything’s fine. Look, you wouldn’t mind if we hang around a bit more, would ya, mate? It’s been a long night; this place is nice and quiet, you know? Peaceful.”

  “Listen, it’s fine with me if y’all stay here all night but I got to lock up the yard. Won’t be back ‘til ‘bout noon t’ morrow. You figurin’ on stayin’ here that long?” Jimmy asked.

  She caught Jaxon’s glance in her direction and his quick size up. It must be obvious she wasn’t herself. She wasn’t about to start brimming up with tears but her inner turmoil—the way she sat, knees rigidly pressed together and hands tucked under her thighs, shoulders high and bent inward—must have been plain as the stripes on her dress. It might do her good to sleep it off out here.

  Jaxon flashed his all-knowing eyes back to Jimmy. “Yeah, no, mate. I think we’re good here for the night. I really appreciate it, bud.”

  “All right, be careful now. Ya stay in the vee-hicle and shouldn’t be no problems. The fence is tight ‘cept for right over there.” Jimmy pointed his flashlight toward a section of fencing that lay pinned to the ground. “We had some real twisted punks get caught a couple weeks ago killin’ stray cats back here. B’fore my guys could get to ‘em, they piled into their Bronco and drove right over the damned chain link and into the woods. Punk kids…” He muttered a bit more under his breath, “How many days ‘til I retire? Little bums…” He tipped his navy blue hat to Jaxon in respectful regard and waved as he crossed all the way out of their field of vision.

  “Well, you heard Jimmy; we’re in for the night. So, whatever it is that has us here, whatever it is you’re holding inside, when you’re ready, I’m here. Not going anywhere, darlin’.”

  She dipped her head and furrowed a deep crease into her brow. She didn’t know what she was ready for. But hearing the pet name Lucky had taken to calling her made her choke on guilty tears. She’d never been so afraid to be with anyone like she was with Lucky. Maybe it was because she knew loving him meant being good. Whereas with Jaxon, it really didn’t matter who she was.

  “Jaxon, do you think I’m a good person?”

  “The best, baby girl.”

  The best. God, if you’re really up there listening, please let Jaxon be right. And please don’t let Lucky hate me for this. Let him know I’m okay. And I think I’m ready to talk about going home. Thanks. Um, amen.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “What time is it?” She stretched her aching arms and legs and dug around her pocket for her phone. She focused on the display, squinting until her sleepy vision cleared.

  It was nearly three o’clock in the morning!

  She should have called Lucky by now. What was seriously wrong with her? How much time did one person need to say yes to the American dream? What more proof did she need that she was over this tiresome life on the road and ready for a good life, a home? With handsome blue-eyed blond-haired Lucky and all that gorgeous attention he paid her? A couple hours ago, the thought had finally stopped scaring her to death. But then she’d dozed off. She shook her head and blew out a gust of breath. If only she could just as easily blow away all the things holding her back from that life Lucky had offered. Leaving Las Vegas, try Leaving Jaxon James. How in the hell did she do that? She scrolled to Lucky’s name in her contact list, hit the green dial button, but then just as quickly ended the call. Her speech needed a little more time before it was ready to be tossed in Jaxon’s lap.

  Jaxon sat awake, quietly ignoring her as she’d asked him to. Nick Cave and Sam Cooke took turns on the stereo as she sighed, again. Jaxon rolled his head to the side to face her but he was clearly not amused.

  Finally, he spoke up.

  “Trissy, maybe I’m the one to blame here. Maybe if it weren’t for the fucked up way I’ve treated you this past year, you’d be in a better place, ready to do whatever it is you’re trying to do with Lucky. I’m so incredibly sorry for not being there for you like I should have lately.”

  She breathed in deeply and let it out. Maybe Jaxon would never stop apologizing to her for that and she should just accept it.

  “Jaxon, thanks for the apology. But this isn’t really your fault. I mean, yeah, I’ve been pissed at you more times than I care to think about lately but you have a life outside of me. I get it. Why do you think Vangie could never see there’s nothing remotely sexual between us? She’s the mother of your child but it’s like she doesn’t know you at all.” Could that happen with her and Lucky? She cringed while Jaxon chewed the inside of his lip and she knew he’d rather bite all the way through it than talk about Vangie’s incessant jealousy of their friendship.

  “I know I’ve made some poor decisions that haven’t been fair to you. I’m trying the best I can…” He trailed off, his Aussie accent becoming distant.

  If her life was a mess, Jaxon’s was a complete debauchery. She didn’t know how he did it, each night on the stage in front of thousands. How could she make it worse for him now? She had to leave but how could she? Was he really gonna be okay like he’d promised?

  “Jaxon, do you love Vangie? Even with everything she’s done to you?” If he could do it for Vangie, then maybe she’d believe Lucky could do it for her.

  He looked at his lap. “Trissy, like I said, I’m sorry I let you down. I should have found a way to go to your Gramma’s with you.”

  Great. He wouldn’t even answer her. That didn’t say a whole lot for the concept of loving someone through the good and the bad. She knew he was split between the father he w
anted to be, the friend he had failed at being, and the man he could never be for Vangie. She had to let him off the hook once and for all.

  “Hey, it’s okay that you didn’t make that trip with me. I know you would have if there had been any way possible.”

  She remembered how it’d felt to hang up on him as he’d apologized mid-sentence. And how it felt to ignore his calls for the next few days. But he was here with her now, and for some reason, that was enough.

  She reclined in an effort to get more comfortable. The thought of Stefan frolicking around in the backseat gave her a much needed mental laugh. She’d be saying goodbye to him too. And Will and Marion. And Ben. She rolled onto her left side, facing Jaxon who still sat upright, but turned in so he faced her. She reached out for his hand and smiled at the thought that it felt nice not to have to avoid him. If these were their last moments together, if she was really going to say goodbye, she needed these few peaceful hours to be perfect and simple.

  * * * *

  Trista’s voice interrupted an old, soulful hymn he’d been humming along to. “Jaxon, the reason we’re out here tonight. I owe you that much.”

  He sniffed loudly and adjusted himself in the seat. “I’m listening. But one thing, you do realize that if Lucky is the cause of all this, I’m not gonna just let it pass. He’s gonna have some explaining to do when we get back. And it better be to my satisfaction or I’ll kick his ass. I don’t care if he’s my family, Trissy.”

  “I think Lucky is the one.”

  He’d been ready to hear something altogether different, what with Trissy’s sour mood. “You do? Really?”

  “Yes, I do.” Again, it was as if she confessed the realization as much to herself as to him.

  “Okay, so that only confuses me more then. Is he playing games with you, Trissy? I knew I should have stuck around longer when he was growing up. Taught him some things.” He shook his head then pressed each of his ten fingertips deeply through his hairline, loosening the moussed poof of his bangs.

  “No, Jaxon. He’s not playing games or doing anything wrong. It’s me. I’m the one who can’t seem to get around herself to the good thing in front of her.”

  “Maybe it’s not entirely about you, Trissy. Maybe you’re here with me tonight because there’s something we need to work out. Something I failed you with by not going on that trip, not going to the creek. To your mum’s grave.” He couldn’t look her in the eye, so he didn’t even try.

  * * * *

  She knew Jaxon was right. Did he realize what he was about to enter them into though? Because she’d been feeling it the past couple months. The gnawing at her heartstrings as one by one, they plucked and snapped, severing the ties she had with one in order to make room for those of another.

  Jaxon alternated between avoiding her eyes and then looking at her so intensely she thought he might take her chin into his grasp. “Look, baby girl, you don’t have to do this anymore. You’re constantly there for me, even when I ask you to keep your distance. It’s insanely pleasing yet so incredibly wrong of me to hold onto you that way. Especially if you think you’ve finally found someone. It’s like I told you the night I screwed everything up and kissed you.” He stroked her cheekbone as he looked past her eyes that questioned what he was saying.

  Was he letting her go? Was he the one ending their friendship? Was it really necessary?

  The past sixteen years came crashing down on her. He’d been her life. There wasn’t a boy she’d been with who she hadn’t told him about, a song’s words that had made her cry that she hadn’t called him about had he not already been singing it to her there in person. She’d held his hand through countless nights of binge drinking and then along the hard road he’d recently fought to sobriety. There wasn’t a dark place she was afraid to go into it, if it was Jaxon who needed her to go there. And she had stepped aside, to make room for Vangie.

  She’d moved out of the place she and Jaxon shared for seven years when he met and fell in love with Vangie so he could have that space for a different kind of happiness. The one she and Jaxon had naturally never ventured to together. And she’d moved back in after his heart had been wrought to pieces whenever Vangie left him. And back out again as Vangie invented the games she would play with Jaxon and the way she would use Maryella to get her way. And sadly, she saw how much of a pawn she’d become in her own life as a part of his. Maybe they couldn’t just be friends. But they were family. She couldn’t lose the big brother he was to her.

  “I love you, Jaxon. There has to be a way for us to make this all work. I think Lucky will understand. He’s a really good man.”

  “I know Trissy, I lov—.”

  A light beam streamed in through the window on Jaxon’s side of the car. “Huh, what’s Jimmy doing back here already?”

  Then on her side, a tap-tap-tap and another flashlight shone in the car.

  “That’s not Jimmy. There are two of them; maybe they’re his night guards. Jimmy probably forgot to tell them he let us stay here.” She pressed her knees closer together, uncomfortable with the stream of light even if it was the law outside.

  “Well, I don’t appreciate the way they’re shining their lights in here.”

  Yeah, it was pretty disgusting and naive for whoever they were to think they could just flash her crotch for that long. She hadn’t seen Jaxon go ballistic in nearly a year. “Just roll the window down and see what they want.” His mouth might get him in trouble, but if he got out, his fists might get him arrested.

  “They’re gonna need to be taught some manners. You lock the doors when I get out. If I have to kick some ass, I don’t want the fight coming in here. Do you understand me?” How could she not when he enunciated each syllable?

  “Jaxon, don’t get crazy. Just tell them Jimmy gave us the okay.”

  The one on Jaxon’s side tapped again on the glass and instead of rolling the window down, sure enough, he opened the door and stepped out. She caught him flexing his fists. This was not going to be good.

  But she trusted he knew what he was doing so she did as Jaxon instructed and locked the doors. With an unnatural thud, something heavy fell against the driver side of the car a moment after Jaxon got out. An unfamiliar young man stood where Jaxon should be located but then this stranger also ducked or fell to the ground; she couldn’t be sure which it was.

  “Shit!” she cursed to the empty car. Instinctively, she searched for something to use as a weapon. She still couldn’t see Jaxon. Where was he? Who knew what he was tangled up in? Hopefully they were just more punk kids, maybe looking to make off with some cash. Jaxon was a good fighter. She’d never worried about him in his late night scuffles with the dregs that kept his company. He should be able to hold his own outside with these assholes.

  But just as she’d convinced herself Jaxon would return any minute to his empty seat and whisk them away, the guy standing outside her door began to mash at the window with the butt of a baseball bat. The noise reverberated through the small car and in that moment, she flashed into a different frame of mind. It became hard to catch her breath and her skin chilled from the inside as adrenaline mixed with fear and belligerence. What did these punks think they were doing?

  She yanked the key ring from the ignition and wrapped it around her fingers as makeshift brass knuckles and then frantically fished her phone out of her pocket. Stefan’s phone went straight to voicemail. Big Mike didn’t pick up either.

  Was this really happening?

  She had the mind to open her door and kick the guy in the balls for his incessant smashing against Stefan’s car. It would be tame compared to what their lead singer would do if he showed up. But then the bat struck through the final tiny piece of glass that had so far held its ground. The window began to dissolve into mosaic-like shards. Fear struck her and she dialed Lucky. He might be the only one still awake, awaiting her call.

  * * * *

  Lucky had made it back to his room, packed his duffel bag and then stretched out on
the bed to get some sleep before he planned on checking out and heading home, again.

  Lucas Dylan Mason, the North and the South, the internal soul’s civil war, ringing his guts and showing him what he was. He was the good man and the bad boy, the caring lover and the almost unfaithful cheat. How had he let himself come so close to being the very thing he hated in cheating men? Falling in love with Trista so fast and so hard had just hurt too damn much when he thought he’d lost her.

  She knew people. She had to have seen clear into his soul tonight. He’d been beating himself up over confessing the night he’d come close to being with the woman at Slanger’s—the vacation he’d given his brain and heart from functioning as their normal and good selves. But Trista had seen it in his eyes tonight. Seen the truth behind the serenade. It was like she knew what he was going to say before he’d uttered the words.

  It was time for him to stop thinking that what he’d done was no worse than what she’d done with Jaxon. That argument had only lasted the length of the bus ride home from California. And the ten minutes he’d sat in the parking lot of Slanger’s, debating if he’d let the meaningless woman be someone he knew or a complete stranger. His only stipulation that it not be a blonde. And then half the time it’d taken him to come to his senses and drive from the hotel around the corner back to his house.

  By the time he was halfway home, he knew he’d almost acted in complete idiocy. First of all, his anger was at Jaxon, not really at Trista. And what was he going to do? Call Jaxon up and say “Hey Cuz, I just banged a nameless, attractive brunette with long legs and no strings so now we’re even.”? It sounded as lame in his head then as it did now, in this posh hotel room.

  The worst and saddest part? Trista would have stuck to her forgiveness had they stayed in her room and talked it out earlier. She would let him pull that kind of crap. So he was glad she’d walked out on him. Sort of.