“The one and only. I gave it to him as a birthday present our first year together. His family gave it back to me at the service. I sat in the bathroom floor of the funeral home and cried. I’d wanted it to stay with him. But they wanted nothing of me buried with him.”
Reaching over, she pulled her mother close. It was a lot to take in. The memories and the memorabilia.
Instructing Henni to leave the dishes and the mess, she said she was going to bed. “I’m so tired.” And it was true. Fatigue drained her energy and ached her eyes.
Curling into a ball, she squeezed her eyes closed, but sleep didn’t come. Dishes rattled from the other room. Henni doing dishes. Her world as she knew it had jumped from its axis. The dishwasher was humming when a rap sounded on the bedroom door and her mother peeped in.
“Your phone.” Henni held the device out. “A text or something came through, and being almost midnight, I thought it might be important.”
Thanking her, Scarlette accepted the phone. The door had just closed behind her exiting mother when she pulled up the message from Gage and burst into tears.
Gage
Merry Christmas, Dar
11:21 PM
Her crying quickly escalated into a fit of such extreme magnitude that Scarlette didn’t hear the door reopen. The bed shifted slightly beneath her mom’s weight.
“Who’s got you crying, baby?”
Sucking in a shaky breath, she sniffled while her mother stroked her hair. “Gage.”
Without another word, Henni stretched out on the bed with her, and pulled her close. “What happened?” Her mom’s fingers smoothed and soothed through her hair. “With Gage?”
“We just weren’t right together.”
“He cheated on you?” Henni’s words were so quiet they barely hung in the air. “All people aren’t wired for monogamy. That doesn’t mean they love you any less―”
“He didn’t. And he would never. Gage isn’t like that.” As she said it, she realized it was true. Of all the complications Gage had, lying and cheating was not part of his problematic equation. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Her mom stilled, and drew slightly back, affixing a curious look to her face. “It’s you, isn’t it? Damn, why am I just now realizing this? You’ve never committed to a relationship. You couldn’t escape those genes. Between your father and me, you got a double dose…”
“I don’t want to talk about it…” She repeated, and relaxed when her mother’s arms tightened again.
“Scarlette. Sometimes the best way to get over someone is to be with them. Just remember that.”
A mouthwatering aroma tantalized and confused her when she woke. And then remembering her mother was a guest in her house befuddled her even more. Truthfully, her mother had cooked breakfast on occasion. And that occasion had generally been a scruffy rocker with bedhead sitting across the table while he and school-aged Scarlette scooped up the atypical meal of omelets or waffles.
This morning, it was pumpkin pancakes with whipped cream sans shirtless rocker.
“Smells good.” Scarlette folded her tablet open to a text. She had been one of a few students to get a jump on the next semester by picking up a syllabus in one of her harder classes the moment her schedule was confirmed. The previous night after her mother departed to the couch, as Christmas Eve ticked into Christmas Day, she’d downloaded the textbook. She’d also texted Gage back a simple, ‘You too.’
She poured two glasses of orange juice while Henni dished up two plates.
“Did you go to the store?” Scarlette wondered between mouthfuls of the gooey goodness.
“Yes. And that reminds me. What are you driving?” The disdain in Henni’s voice was accompanied by mock shock on her features. Scrubbed free of makeup, even after the abuse her body had been through, she appeared ten years younger.
Scarlette lifted a brow right back. “You took my car?”
“Well I didn’t walk.”
Scarlette rolled her eyes and refrained from mentioning a taxi or Uber. With a forefinger, she swiped a page in the textbook.
“I thought you were going to buy a nice car.”
“That is a nice car. What is it with everyone and my damn car?”
“I can’t speak for ‘everyone.’ But you deserve nice things. You’ve worked hard.” Her mother sent a pointed look to the tablet. “Can’t you put that away for ten minutes? It’s not good for digestion.”
“What kind of car did you get?” Turning the conversation around, Scarlette attacked.
“A pearl Aston Martin.” Henni was understandably wary when she mentioned the luxury vehicle. “I got a job.”
Her mother’s employment was as surprising as everything else that had happened in the course of this visit. She opened her mouth to ask questions. To be encouraging. Instead what came out was, “A six figure salary, I’m presuming? To afford that car?”
“Not that it’s any of your business. But I bought the car with the documentary money.”
The mention of the documentary dulled her appetite. And she really wanted to enjoy the pancakes. “Tell me about your job.”
“I’m the event coordinator at one of the resorts.”
“That’s great! Do you like it?”
When her mom didn’t answer right away, Scarlette looked up and felt silently chastised for keeping her eyes glued to the tablet screen.
“It’s Christmas.” Having cleared her plate, Henni set her fork down. Since we opened all of our presents, why don’t we go out? Walk on the beach or something?”
“I really need to get a jump on this. This class is going to be hard.”
“You graduate this time, right?” She asked and when Scarlette nodded, again turning her attention to the technical jargon, Henni stood, stacking their plates. “I’m proud of you, Scarlette.” She squeezed her shoulder in passing. “Give it a break on Christmas. Okay?”
“Mom, I just told you―”
“I know what you told me. It’s bullshit! You’ve always studied on Christmas. You can’t say that was necessary when you were a kid! And I guarantee you it’s not now! So whatever this drive is you have going on that makes you do this, stop it. Please. For one day.”
“Fine.” Scarlette snapped the cover closed. “We’ll go to the beach.”
“I have a better idea.” Henni suddenly seemed giddy. “I’ll drive.”
The dealership was deserted. Row after row of gleaming Porches waited Christmas Day out. The closed status and the metal gate didn’t stop Henni who clambered over.
“C’mon! Did you ever get a favorite color? Or are you still into black?”
“There are cameras…”
“So? Who’s going to arrest Tyler Conterra’s kid on Christmas Day?” Henni curved a mischievous smile. “Let’s look at cars!”
“I wasn’t going to buy a Porsche.” Traffic buzzed on the avenue behind her. In front of her, stood her mother. The afternoon sun lit the salon highlights in her styled hair and lent a rosy hue to her cheeks. Her eyes danced and her expectant smile drooped a bit. “Okay. You know what? Let’s look at cars.” Scarlette stepped over the blockade.
Henni hooked an arm with hers. They strolled to a row of sleek black cars.
“Why are we here again?”
“We’re looking. And then tomorrow or the next day, we’re coming back to one of these places and buying your car.” Henni gestured again for her to join her on the other side. “Did you know the week after Christmas is the best time of year to buy a car? That ought to appeal to your responsible side. The dealer told me that when I bought mine.”
“But you didn’t wait.”
“Why wait for something you can have now?”
“Not you. That’s for sure.”
“And not you. Scarlette Fuckin’ Conterra doesn’t live in a tiny apartment and drive some secondhand shit car.
“Really? Then why did I do just that for years? Why was Scarlette Conterra working her own way through college?”
“It wasn’t supposed to be like that. I thought the money would last longer. But things happened.”
“Yes! You happened.”
“Look, Scarlette. I know you think it was irresponsible. The amount of money I went through―”
“It was!”
“It was. I agree. Looking back, yes it was extreme. Yes, I regret a lot of it.” Here she paused and leveled her best mother look. “But I don’t regret all of it.”
“I’m curious what you don’t regret.” When her mother flipped her shades down over her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, Scarlette pursued. “As someone who pays your rent—who’s always paid your rent—and knowing I’ll be paying more of your bills before it’s over, I deserve to know what you don’t regret and why not.”
“I lived! I lived life each day to the max. I didn’t miss out on what I wanted. You want to know why I dated rockers? Because they live their lives at full volume! And that’s how I lived. It’s how I felt alive. You on the other hand, I believe you’re doing the opposite of what you want to do. And you’re miserable for it. Always studying. Writing papers. Taking tests.”
“You’re wrong. I’m about to graduate and do something I’ve always wanted to do. All the studying is about to pay off.”
In the grand scheme of things, she had decided she wanted to apply her degree in allopathic studies to chemical detoxification in a private rehab setting. Looking through the materials from Shady Oasis had made up her mind.
Chemical detoxification had an eighty percent relapse rate. But, facilities like the one Gage was in that used allopathic means to rid the impurities stored in fatty tissues, such as the method she’d already used on Gage, had only a thirty percent relapse rate.
“Really? Have you always wanted to rehab people hooked on junk? Or have you always wanted to balance your little corner of the universe? An addiction to drugs took your father away, so you cure addiction to drugs?”
When she didn’t receive an answer, Henni went with a calmer approach. “Scarlette, you’re a musician. Don’t waste that talent away because of some fear you developed while being exposed to the worst of that life.”
In going up one row and down another, they’d made a loop. Quickening her steps, Scarlette hopped the gate and hurried to the car, slipping into the driver’s side. She was left alone with her thoughts for a good few minutes before her mother opened the passenger door. Without saying anything, she passed the keys over.
They were quiet on the drive home. Scarlette passed the BMW dealership without stopping, and her mother made no argument.
Henni did request one stop. A liquor store. She ran in and returned, tossing the bag into the back. “Eggnog.”
Scarlette refrained from wrinkling her nose. Even though it was not much more than a speck in front of her house the moment she turned on her street, the familiar white car caught her attention and she groaned aloud. This was the first time she’d seen it in several weeks and she’d hoped he’d given up on her.
“What’s wrong?” Henni wondered.
“That white car. The man is pretty much Grade A stalker paps. You’d think he’d have family to keep him busy on Christmas.”
Henni’s gaze narrowed as they drew closer. As usual, Scarlette flipped her visor down and whipped into the driveway as quickly as the automatic gate would let her.
As was normal, they took the back way into the house. Scarlette was on the upstairs landing, unlocking the apartment door when she noticed the bag containing the liquor and eggnog sitting at the base of the stairs and the front entry cracked open.
She debated between retracing her steps to the first floor, and going into the apartment. Crossing the main room, she peered out the window and froze at the scene below.
Henni stood in the street, hands on her hips, leaning into the window of the white car. Then her arms began to wave wildly in clearly furious gestures accompanying whatever she was saying. Whirling around, she stomped back across the street toward the walkway. Henni had just closed herself inside the property when, behind her, the car’s engine revved to life, and the tires screeched as the car burned rubber, quickly vanishing.
“Mom. What the hell?” Scarlette rushed to the hall landing, and relieved her mother of the shopping bag as she chastised. “He could be dangerous. In fact, as weird as he is, I’m willing to bet he is.”
“Well he has no business watching you like that.”
“Yeah. But I’ve got a bodyguard downstairs who lives to chase him away.”
“And yet he wasn’t chased away…”
“I’m sure the resident muscle is enjoying Christmas with his family.”
“And leaves you vulnerable to the psychos on the street?”
“Mom! It’s not like that. Okay? I don’t need a damn bodyguard. Gage and…” Here Scarlette stopped before mentioning her ex-stepfather to her mother. “Gage was being overprotective. That’s why the guy lives downstairs. But he’s not round the clock security.”
Henni mixed the eggnog while they bickered, and Scarlette downed a mug. Surprisingly, it was tasty.
When Logan paid a surprise visit, she was glad for the distraction. She introduced him to her mother, and Henni insisted he have eggnog.
“Did you get a look at that Social Order syllabus?” Logan sipped and made conversation.
Henni slapped her cup against the saucer and rolled her eyes. “Do you study on Christmas too, Logan?”
“No, ma’am. I…” Logan seemed part embarrassed and part intimidated. He set his cup on his saucer with a much quieter clink than Henni had. “I, uh, actually came by to see if Scarlette…” He realigned his eyes from her mother to her. “If you wanted to go out with some kids from school. But I didn’t know your mom was here. I should get going.”
“Who’s going out?” Scarlette asked and listened to the details, yearning at this opportunity to have some peace away from her maternal parent.
Henni urged her to go if she wanted to. “Go, dear. Have fun. I have a few books downloaded that look good.”
In the end, Scarlette reminded herself that her mother had only been here for two days and would be spending only one more night after tonight. She turned Logan down, but as had become common, walked him outside.
“Your mom’s a character.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m glad she’s here. I was afraid you were spending Christmas alone.”
“That’s sweet of you. Thanks for thinking of me.” Then a worrisome thought struck her. Had Gage’s text the night before been a lonely text? Was Logan checking to make sure she wasn’t lonely and pining away the holiday because Gage was? “Gage go to his dad’s for Christmas?” Or is his dad out of town as usual?
“He and Mr. Remington went skiing in New Mexico.”
“Oh. Good. I just… Well, holidays are hard. I imagine especially to someone recovering.” She tried to excuse her questioning, but just wound up feeling like an ass.
“Merry Christmas.” Logan reached in his pocket and withdrew a small box tied up with a ribbon.
“You didn’t!” She refused to take it, racking her brain for anything she had inside the apartment that could be a return gift. Why hadn’t she bought him a gift? He was around at least once a week. Maybe she could give him Seth’s bracelet and buy Seth another before she saw him…
“Open it tonight.” He shoved it in her hand and bounded down the stairs. Turning to wave, he repeated, “Merry Christmas!”
Chapter 21
People swarmed the edgy interior of the club. The band was destroying their set. Alcohol might as well have been flowing from a waterfall as plentiful as it was. Everyone held a drink, some two. They leaned against the bar. Sat in booths or on high stools. Danced or bobbed heads to the music.
It wasn’t his scene tonight. However, coming out of his cave for New Year’s Eve was logical in many ways. Rubbing elbows with people of the industry was something he needed to take seriously. He’d done the session Jax had mentio
ned, as well as the one with Green Envy. He had less than a week to commit or not to the Rattler gig. What he wanted was his own gig or at least one in an established band.
From his corner of the VIP area, he scanned the faces, looking for Colt. The woman to one side of him was chattering away, and the blonde beauty on his other side would not shut up about wanting to dance. Five minutes later when Colt’s date returned without Colt, Gage had enough.
“Excuse me.” He motioned to the blonde.
“Yay. Finally!” She clapped her hands as she slid out.
“I’m not dancing. I’m going to the john.”
“You got a bump?” Her head tipped and her lip poked out in a pout.
“No.” Weaving, he lost her in the crowd and kept going.
Between songs, the ten minutes until midnight announcement came and a buzz lit the crowd as everyone scrambled for drinks and position. Position being at their date’s side. Looking back, he saw Colt’s date was still alone. So where was the asshole?
The last thing he wanted was to make a new year’s toast with some skank he didn’t know. After taking the fastest piss ever, he emerged from the bathroom with the intention of being out of this place by midnight.
“Oh. Sorry.” Automatically, his arms shot out, steadying the woman he’d slammed into. Looking beyond her, when the women’s restroom opened, he watched in disbelief as Scarlette emerged.
The hallway was narrow, and with one sidestep, he blocked Scar’s way just as she noticed him. Her lips parted in surprise, and the sexy action took his mind to other places. Times when they’d parted in pleasure. Or parted in an invitation to deepen their kiss. Or parted right before they went around his cock…
They stood so close, he could feel her body heat. So close, he could look down the generous neckline of her clingy shirt and imagine sliding his cock in the shadowy valley of cleavage. She brought up a hand, flattened it to his chest, a gesture for him to clear the way. But the chemical current zapped her as hard as him. He could tell because she gulped and stepped back, an action aligning her to the wall. If he were a gentleman, he’d step aside. But since he’d never been that, he stepped forward, trapping her between him and the wall.
Hung Out: A Needles and Pins Rock Romance Page 38