by Cary Hart
Waving the papers in the air, I demand, “My mom did this?”
“Yes, but—”
“What’s going on in here?” My mom swings the door open. “Oh! Hey, Presley.”
“Lee!” I seethe. “Why don’t you tell me?” I throw the papers down on the table. “Selling the house?”
“I better get going.” Katie squeezes my arm. “It’s going to be okay,” she whispers as she gives my back a little pat on her way out.
“You have no right!” I quickly turn to go face-to-face with the
woman who has never been here but is suddenly back.
“I do.” She watches me.
“The hell if you do.” I begin to pace, hands behind my head. “You left and I don’t care if you had a fucking drug problem or not. This house is more than a piece of property. It’s my home and I’ll be damned if you’re going to waltz in here after years of taking everything from her and take more.”
“Are you done?”
“Hell no, I’m not done! That woman is everything to me. She was my mom when you weren’t there. Fuck!” I run my hands through my hair. “She is my mom. She hugged me when I missed you. Kissed my tears away when I cried for you. She prayed with me when I had nightmares. She supported me when I was ready to give up. She made me the man I am now.”
She nods, taking everything I’m throwing at her.
“Nothing to say? All out of excuses?” I spit out.
“This was just to get an appraisal of what the house would be worth. Your grandmother put the house in your name. You are the only one who can put this house on the market and I thought, since you have had to handle all this on your own, that I could help you out, because that is why I’m here. To help.” She rips the papers up, tossing them in the trash before she continues. “She knew she needed help and she didn’t want to burden you.”
“She isn’t a burden,” I whisper.
“No, but she needs help. More than what we can give her.” She
digs in her purse and pulls out a few pamphlets. “I know it’s hard to talk about it. It’s not easy for me either—”
“What are those?” I choose to ignore the we part.
“I found a care center that is affordable, but the house needs to go—”
“I don’t give a damn about affordable, I want the best care,” I interrupt.
“Listen, the house is in your name. Only you can make the decision to sell it, but I have power of attorney. Which means—”
I start trembling. “Excuse me?”
“Three months ago your grandmother hired a lawyer to get everything lined up before she couldn’t do it herself. He suggested she give someone power of attorney. That is when she called me.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “Why you?”
“Because she didn’t want you to have to deal with it,” she tells me.
Something doesn’t make sense. The house, power of attorney, my mom coming back after all these years. Then it’s like a light bulb goes off.
“I get it now! You were hoping I would agree to sell the house so Grans could get the care she needs and you can run away again, draining her of everything she had left.”
I’m fuming. She has been nothing but a druggy whore looking for big break and now she is going to come into my home and strip it bare of memories.
I yank her purse out of her hands and toss it out the door. “Just go!” I walk down the hall and head to my old room where she is
staying. “Get your things and go.” I reach into the closet and throw her suitcase on the bed and throw clothes in, one drawer at a time. “You are not welcome here anymore.”
“Lee!” my mom cries. “Please don’t do this. I was only trying to help. Your Grans asked me to.”
“Oh! Because some old lady who is losing her mind asks you to help, you come running back. Come on. You don’t give a fuck about her.”
“Lee!” Grans hollers from behind us. “Get out of my house,” she shouts.
“Grans,” I turn around, pleading. “I didn’t mean it.”
“Out!” she screams. “I want you out and don’t come back.”
“Grans, please,” I beg.
“Sammy-Jo, how many times have I told you about having boys in your room?”
“Grans, it’s me. Presley.” I take a step toward her, but my mom holds me back, shaking her head.
“Mother, he was just going.” She looks at me, signaling for me to leave, but how can I?
“He better, before your dad gets home.” Grans’ eyes move from Mom to me. “You. Don’t belong here.”
I glance between my mom and Grans, wondering how this even happened. How did things start to go downhill so fast?
“Lee, just go. This isn’t her right now. I’ll take care of it.” Mom tries to comfort me.
Too late.
Too late to help.
Too late to be strong.
Too late to take back the words.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Lee
At twenty-four I never expected to make a life-changing decision like this. Getting married, changing jobs, buying a house? Sure. But this? Hell no! This decision, as selfish as it could be, shouldn’t be that at all. I need to make the best one for her. For Grans.
The need to keep holding on shouldn’t outweigh her need for proper care. Right now we are managing, but her bad days are outweighing the good and as much as I don’t want to do it, I have to make a decision—sooner rather than later.
Which puts me in another bind. Do I go ahead and refinance the house to pay for Lavender Springs partial home care or do I wait? Keep up this exhausting routine I’ve set for us all?
Not only does my decision affect Grans, it affects every single person who helps her daily. How long can I keep calling in favors? How long is too long to ask someone to basically give up their whole week to care for a woman who is losing who she is? Each and every day is a gamble of what to expect.
So, I do it. I do what my financial resources will allow by getting her the proper care she deserves. I fill out the application, have my mom sign and seal Grans’ fate. Maybe with having the trained staff stopping by we can keep Grans around longer.
By finally moving forward you would think I would feel some sort of relief, but I don’t. I tried to prepare myself. I planned for this exact moment, searching for ways to build income to give her the best care. But, now that she actually needs it, why do I feel like shit? Why does it feel like I’m giving up?
Betraying my promise. My word.
Ellie
Today is one of those days when I’m not sure what I’m doing. I’m doubting every decision I make.
Is it for me or for someone else?
Am I content, or do I need more?
Music was my everything, my outlet from everyday life. And now, I’m not even sure if I’m playing for me anymore or if I’m playing just to prove them wrong.
I sang to get attention, to be heard, to be accepted. I sang like my life depended on it and then I was singing to spend my nights alone.
Then Presley Aaron Scott came crashing into my life and changed everything. I was no longer singing for a job, for a place to live or to punish the people who abandoned me. I played because I needed it. He tuned my life into a perfect song.
He’s my melody.
I don’t need anything else. I just need him.
But singing shouldn’t be about someone else. If I can’t learn to sing for myself, then why am I even performing at all?
Sitting down on the floor, I pull out my guitar, hugging it to my chest. Music has never left me alone.
I close my eyes, let myself go, and begin to play. I feel every high, every low. Every fear, every joy. Every pain, every scar.
I let myself feel, for me.
With each chord I play, the answer becomes more clear. My songs become wishes, but only I can make them come true. I know this now.
Tears fall, not because I’m sad, but because I know the answe
r. It’s time I bet my life on me.
Wiping away the tears, I gently set the guitar back in the case and begin to close the lid when a folded piece of stationary falls out.
Lee.
My hands, eager. My heart, pounding. I open it to see what he has to say.
Ellie Jane –
I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry that I didn’t stick up for you. I’m sorry for each and every time you stood up and I watched you get knocked back down and did nothing. I should have been stronger, like you.
You see, from the moment you were conceived I knew you were destined for great things. You, my little angel, were a fighter. ARE A FIGHTER. You kicked and sang your way into this world. That’s right. You didn’t cry, you sang. The greatest song anyone could have given me.
I tried to be your voice when you didn’t have one, and reason when he wouldn’t
listen. I thought we had won. The piano lessons were supposed to be a start. Instead, he saw what I saw and got scared.
When he loves, it’s fierce. It’s what made me fall for him in the first place. You see, the more your talent would shine, the angrier he became. You were like me and he desperately wanted you to be like him. You being like me meant he had to fight harder. And deep down, I think he knew it was a losing battle. Keeping me was easy. As much as I wanted a career, I wanted a family more. I don’t consider it me giving in. I call it a win. My family is my prize.
Ellie Jane, your father loves you the best way he knows how. I’m not asking you to come back. As much as I want you here, you’re bigger than this. You are special and the whole world should see what I know you to be.
So, my angel, fly away, soar through the skies. Be you.
Love,
Mom
When I walked out those doors, I wanted my mom. I wanted her to comfort me, to tell me everything was going to be okay. She didn’t. She watched me go, but these words came when I needed them the most. I know now that leaving was easy, but the scariest part is letting go.
Thank you, Mom.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Lee
Thank God for an early weekend. Drew gave me lead on a project and by changing up a few things we were able to complete the tasks early for the week, giving us all an extra day off. It makes me look good and saves WilliamSon Construction a ton of money in the process. It’s a win-win.
After a quick shower and packing a bag, my weekend of surprises is set in motion. A weekend that I know Ellie and I both need. After multiple failed attempts to meet up this week, we finally gave up.
So here I am, standing in front of her door, waiting.
“Lee!” She swings it open.
“Hey, I know you’re busy today, but I was wondering if you would add me to your to-do list?” I wink, giving her a quick peck as I walk past.
“That one was bad.” Ellie laughs.
“I’m going to disagree.” I turn around. “It got your attention, didn’t it?” I reach out and wrap an arm around her lower back, pulling her close. “Let me kiss you.”
“I’m all yours.” She tilts her head to the side, causing me to smile.
“You like this?” I place a tender kiss in a spot I know drives her wild.
“Uh huh.” She lets out a sigh as she closes her eyes, relaxing into my arms.
I give her a quick nip and she screeches. “What did you do that for?”
“Waking you up, El.” I tickle her side as she jumps away.
“Trust me. I was awake.” She slides her way back into my arms and looks up through her lashes, her hazel eyes shining with desire.
“You’re killing me,” I admit. My self-control slowly fading.
“It’s been days. I would say you are the one killing me—slowly. Especially with all these secrets.” Ellie reaches up, placing a quick kiss on my nose, followed by a tender kiss on each side of my face.
“Ellie,” I warn.
“Where are we going?” she whispers across my mouth as she tries to coerce the answer from me.
“Mmm,” I moan. Closing my eyes, I reluctantly back away. “If you keep doing that, there will be no surprise.”
“Hmm.” Ellie bites her bottom lip. “What’s behind door number two?”
“How about you come with me right now and you can get door number one and bed number two.” I extend my hand to hers.
“I guess.” She shrugs her shoulders and walks right by me, not taking my hand.
My eyes betray me as they can’t help watching every sway of her perfect ass walk toward the door. “Well?” She turns around like she is a supermodel on the runway. “We going?”
“Yeah.”
Yeah? It’s such a simple word, but when I’m around Ellie, sometimes even finding the simplest words seem like a difficult task.
“Then what are you waiting for?” She flings the door open, waiting for me to follow.
And I do. Because truth be told, I would follow her anywhere.
“Oh my God!” She spins around to face me after seeing the poster for her favorite cover band on the front doors of a local low-key bar. “How did you know?”
“As much as I want to take all the credit for this, I can’t.” I reach around her, pulling the door open. “Rain gave me a heads up.”
“You are the best boyfriend ever!” Ellie jumps into my arms, peppering kisses all over my face.
“Boyfriend, huh?” I say, raising a brow.
“Lee, I think we are past the point of asking each other out. It’s what you are, don’t deny it.” She slides out of my arms and heads inside, saying over her shoulder, “Plus, the things I want to do with you, I only do to boyfriends.” She makes her way to the bar like she’s been here a time or two.
By the time I make it up to the bar she is talking with some suit who looks like he could be a good ten years older than us.
“I’m Kevin. What’s your name?” He holds out his hand—my cue to butt in.
Sliding my arm around her waist, I join in the conversation. “Well, Kevin, I’m going to do you a service and help you out here. Lines like that don’t work.” I give Ellie a little squeeze. “Let me show you how it’s done.”
Turning to Ellie, I move in closer. “I was blinded by your beauty. I’m going to need your name and number for insurance purposes.”
“Yeah, right.” Kevin waits for Ellie’s reaction.
Placing a hand on my chest, she leans in to get a little closer, leaving our lips a breath apart. “Can you see me now?”
I nod.
“Good,” she breathes. “My name is Ellie and if you give me your number, I’ll give you something better,” she purrs.
“Deal.” I slam my mouth on hers.
Kevin clears his throat, but we continue putting on a show.
“Whatever, man.”
Not forgetting he was the one who was trying to hit on my girl, I flip him the bird just as Ellie pulls away.
“So, Ellie, how about we get a table that is a little more private?” I grab our drinks, throwing down a twenty and waving off the change.
“Better luck next time, Kev.”
“Fuck off.”
“That was fun.” Ellie spins around and walks backward.
“I tried to tell you, it’s all in the pickup lines.” I find a corner booth and set our drinks down, then grab her hand to give her a little twirl before she slides in.
“Why thank you, Mr. Scott.” Ellie scoots across the seat. “Save me a dance?”
“I would love nothing more.”
Ellie
This night has been perfect. Seeing Lee having fun and just letting loose was a sight yet to been seen, until now. With everything going on at home and the stress of work, Lee is never one-hundred percent relaxed. But tonight, he’s a new man and I’m enjoying every second.
“How about that dance?” Lee stands up, offering his hand.
I take it, responding, “I would love to.”
Pulling me straight into his arms, Lee walks us backward until we are in
the middle of the dance floor. Hands on his chest, I can’t help but explore.
“I love it when you touch me like that.” Lee leans down and, mouth by my ear, he continues, “I’ve never—” He shakes his head once. “You. Your touch, it’s intoxicating.”
“Really?” I look up at him.
“Really.” He gulps.
“You drunk yet?” I whisper as I snake my arms up and around his neck.
“You’re something else, you know that?”
“Lee?”
“Yeah?”
“Kiss me.”
He pulls back and his gaze falls to my mouth. His lips part as if he’s going to say something, but the look in his eyes does the talking.
Slowly, he leans over and sweeps his lips against mine. Once, then twice, until I open for him. Lee has kissed me before—those kisses were consuming—but this one, it’s different. Slow and tender, as if he’s taking the time to memorize the taste of my lips.
He pulls away, his chest rising and falling. We both are at a loss for words, our kiss already saying so much.
Reaching up, with one hand still on my waist, he rests my head against his chest. I feel his heartbeat, beating in a rhythm that is just ours. We sway back and forth, lost in our own song until the next one starts.
Lee stills, tension suddenly flowing through his body.
“Lee?”
Dropping his hands, he takes a step back as if he is going to run. I’ve seen this look. I saw it the first night we met and then again when I thought he left for good. He fought it then and I need him to fight it now.
Lee doesn’t want to run. I can feel it. He left the past at home, but right now, it’s banging on the door.
“Lee, come back to me.” I take a step closer. “It’s just a song.” Another step. “Nothing more.” I repeat myself, trying to reassure him.
Reaching for his arms, I wrap them around me. Holding him, holding me. I begin to sway and sing. “Wise men say, only fools rush in.” I reach up and cup his beautiful face in my tiny hands. “How can this song be so bad with words like that?” I brush my thumb over his bottom lip. I give him a kiss of reassurance and continue to sing as we move slowly to the song. “Some things are meant to be. Take my hand,