by Karen Cimms
Other than the clearing of a throat or the creak of a chair, it was eerily silent.
“My father beat me that day. He beat me so badly I almost died.”
A low murmur rippled through the hall. Her father waited for the audience to quiet, then looked down at her mother. She nodded.
“I had more than a dozen broken bones and a punctured lung, and I temporarily lost hearing in one ear. I can’t even remember how many stitches I had. I spent several weeks in the hospital. I never saw my father again. My grandfather ran him off, told him never to come back. He took that baseball and my mother, who decided she loved a man who beat us both more than she loved me.”
Dalton squirmed in Rhiannon’s arms and knocked his heel against her shin.
“Ow!” he cried.
She hadn’t realized how tightly she was holding him. She pressed a soft kiss against his cheek. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” she murmured. Neither of her children were angels, far from it, but to strike them? The fennel and goat cheese salad she’d enjoyed for dinner was threatening a repeat performance.
Doug shifted Dayton to one knee and settled Dalton on the other.
She leaned toward her brother and whispered, “Are you okay?”
His eyes looked wet. “No. You?”
She shook her head as her fingers curled around her brother’s arm.
“After that, I was raised by my grandparents,” he continued. “They thought I hung the moon, and I was lucky to have them. The thing is, abuse isn’t only physical. There are children who suffer emotional or psychological abuse, which is harder to see because the scars are invisible. And it’s even harder to stop because we don’t always know it’s happening.”
He pulled her mother closer. “This woman—this beautiful, sensitive, kind, talented, funny, loving, wonderful woman—was emotionally abused for the first eighteen years of her life. She was belittled, degraded, punished, humiliated, criticized, yet both of her parents were long-standing, respected members of their community. She grew up believing that she was flawed somehow, that there was something wrong with her. It wasn’t until she went away to college that she understood not everyone’s parents treat their children like that.”
Tears streamed down Rhiannon’s face. People nearby were sniffling and dabbing at their eyes.
“Katie and I were ashamed of the lives we came from, so much so that not only did neither of us seek help, but we kept most of our pasts hidden from each other. Neither of us believed we were worthy of love. Neither of us believed that someone else could love us unconditionally.”
His hand traveled up and down her mother’s arm as he spoke. She’d never seen her father standing on a stage looking this uncomfortable. And no wonder. She had grown up knowing nothing about his childhood. She’d never even seen a picture. Yet here he stood, painting an image more vivid than any camera could have captured.
“The only real love Katie had growing up was from her best friend, Joey, but his life was no picnic either. He lost his mother when he was seven, and his father, an alcoholic, threw him out of the house as a teenager when he learned Joey was gay. But unlike Katie or me, Joey’s confidence and ambition grew, and he went on to become a huge success. You might even have heard of him. Joey Buccacino. He was a stylist to some of the biggest names in Hollywood and New York, and he also owned several high-end boutiques and salons. He even designed his own line of accessories.”
His voice softened. “Joey was shot during a robbery last year. He died a few hours later.”
A ripple of gasps and murmurs moved through the hall.
“I’m not trying to win your sympathy,” he said to the now somber audience. “In fact, I don’t like telling these stories at all. But Katie and I decided to come forward so that you can understand how committed we are to this cause.
“At first, our goal was to raise some money to help purchase instruments and some other things for the kids from the resource center, like the ones you heard here tonight. But we think we can do more. We’re hoping not only to partner with the resource center but also to create our own identity with a focus on kids like us.
“Tonight is the first step. I want to thank you for coming and helping us get this off the ground. It’s our goal to continue special concerts like this one with other artists—I’m not naming names, but I think it’s going to be pretty exciting. We’re already grateful for your support, but if after hearing our story, you’re moved to contribute a little more to the cause, we sure as hell won’t turn you down. You can do so afterward at the reception, where I’m looking forward to meeting each and every one of you.”
The applause began before he finished speaking.
Her mother, looking relieved her part was over, gave a wave and called out a loud “Thank you!” Then she blew a kiss toward her and Devin. Rhiannon wanted to reach up and grab it, like she’d done when she was a little girl, but she was still too stunned to move. Between everything she’d seen and heard the last few days, she felt as if she’d stepped onto an emotional landmine.
As her mother tried to head off the stage, her father tugged her back. A huge grin stretched across his face. “Not so fast. I have another confession to make.”
Her mother laughed uncomfortably. “I think that’s enough for one night.”
“Just one more.”
He adjusted the strap on his acoustic. “When I met Katie, she was an eighteen-year-old freshman at Rutgers hanging out in a bar with her roommate, both of them with fake IDs.”
“Billy!” She swatted at him.
“To be fair, it was the first time she’d ever done anything like that.”
The hall rumbled as the audience chuckled their disbelief.
“No, it’s true. Her roommate got the IDs and then dragged her out on a Friday night. She had planned to stay in and finish reading Beowulf, right?”
Her mother rolled her eyes.
“Like I said, that night she stole my heart, but I swept her off her feet. She left school and ran off with me—and that, I’m not proud of, but I wouldn’t change a thing. Until we started our family, I’d bring her to gigs with me. Because she was so young, there were times we knew a fake ID wouldn’t fly, so”—he motioned to someone offstage—“she had to make like she was in the band to get in . . .”
Denny trotted onstage with a tambourine and handed it to her mother. The rest of the band followed, returning to their places on stage.
“And she did a pretty admirable job. She was my first backup singer too.”
Rhiannon laughed. The idea of her mother as a backup singer was almost impossible to imagine, although looking at her right now, it seemed the most natural thing in the world.
“We’re gonna end with a song I think is appropriate for this evening and one that fills me with hope. It was written by my friend John Rzeznik, and it’s been sung many times to express hope in our future and the possibility for change. I don’t think he’ll mind that we’re sharing it here tonight.”
Kate’s hands were shaking, and for a second, she thought she might throw up. Yes, she’d done this in the past, but sadly, it had always been with some kind of drug or alcohol in her system. It had also been a long, long time ago.
At the back of the room, Rhiannon and Devin were already on their feet. Rhiannon whistled, and Devin flashed her the thumbs-up. Her eyes grew teary and the audience grew fuzzy—probably not a bad thing, since she was so nervous her knees had to be banging together.
Denny counted out the rhythm. The piano followed. With a nod from Billy, she tapped the tambourine against her palm, and he began to sing.
And you ask me what I want this year
And I try to make this kind and clear
Just a chance that maybe we’ll find better days
’Cause I don’t need boxes wrapped in strings
And designer love and empty things
Just a chance that maybe we’ll find better days
So take these words
And sing out loud<
br />
’Cause everyone is forgiven now
’Cause tonight’s the night the world begins again
I need someplace simple where we could live
And something only you can give
And that’s faith and trust and peace while we’re alive
And the one poor child who saved this world
And there’s ten million more who probably could
If we all just stopped and said a prayer for them
Kate hadn’t stood this close to Billy on a stage since she was eighteen, and she was loving the view. Strands of damp, golden hair curled over the collar of his black shirt. A fine sheen of sweat glistened on his face. His lips, which could drive her crazy in so many ways, pressed against the mic as he sang. Here was her heart, all six feet, four inches of him. Her soulmate. She couldn’t love him more if she tried.
Billy tilted his head, smiled, and leaned away from the mic.
“C’mon, babe, last verse. Sing it with me.”
The audience was on its feet, ready to join in the final chorus of the Goo Goo Dolls hit. She caught sight of her family rushing the stage, led by Rhiannon and flanked by security staffers, arms raised and cheering. Within moments, they were all up there beside her and Billy, even Doug and the twins, singing loudly and clapping to the final chorus.
So take these words
And sing out loud
’Cause everyone is forgiven now
’Cause tonight’s the night the world begins again
The applause was thunderous. Kate reached for Billy as he swung his guitar to his side and grabbed her around the waist. In front of all those people, he bent her backward and kissed her.
“Better days, babe!” he yelled as the crowd’s cheering surged. “Better days.”
Chapter Sixty-Three
It hardly seemed possible, but hours after the concert, Kate was still running on adrenaline.
“I can’t believe you’re still awake.” Billy yawned as he handed her a cup of herbal tea.
“I know.” She savored the warmth of the mug in her hands, inhaling the soothing floral scent. The chill coursing through her might be more from exhaustion than the actual temperature, but her mind refused to wind down.
Billy sat beside her with a cup of his own, put his arm around her, and pulled her close. She snuggled into him.
“We should get a gas fireplace,” he said. “Then we could just flip a switch and have a roaring fire.”
He yawned again.
“True, but a wood fire smells so nice.”
He kissed the top of her head. They stared at the empty hearth, too excited to go to bed yet too exhausted to do anything else. The room was dark, other than the flicker of a candle in the center of the coffee table—her concession to the effort of making an actual fire.
“Mom? Daddy?” Rhiannon had come up the stairs so quietly Kate hadn’t heard her.
“Hey, baby,” Billy said. “How come you’re still awake? Everything okay?”
“Yeah. I couldn’t sleep.” She sat on the sofa across from them.
“You want some tea?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I just wanted to tell you both how proud I am.” She fidgeted with the sash of her robe. “I had no idea. What you did tonight, sharing your stories . . . You put yourselves out there. I think the response will be tremendous.”
“Thank you, sweetie,” Kate said. “It wasn’t easy, but if it helps other kids, it was worth it.”
“I think it will. I think tonight was a great start, and if you can do that a couple of times a year, I think you’ll realize your dream in a very short time.”
This new warmth from her daughter melted some of Kate’s chilliness. “I hope so.”
Rhiannon reached into the pocket of her robe and pulled out a slip of paper, which she handed to Kate. “In the meantime, here’s a check from Doug and me.”
She was dumbfounded. “Five thousand dollars?”
“Baby girl, that’s too much,” Billy said.
Rhiannon waved them off. “No, it’s not. I’ve dropped more than that on a handbag.”
“Rhiannon!” She shouldn’t have been shocked by that revelation, but she was.
“I know, but hey—I may be a style maven some day, right? I have to look good.”
A surge of hope rushed through her. “You’ve decided, then?”
“Not yet. Uncle Joey and I had talked about it a few times, you know . . . Before. So it’s always been in the back of my mind. I just figured after he was gone, it was no longer an option.” She shrugged. “And I guess I always thought he was just being nice.”
Kate laughed. “When was Joey ever just being nice?”
“When he was dealing with me?” Billy said, but he was laughing too.
“Oh, stop.” Kate poked him playfully. “He liked you. He just had a hard time accepting that you were good enough for me. He would’ve hated anyone.”
He pressed his lips against her temple. “He was right. I’ll never be good enough for you, but I’ll keep trying.”
“Well,” Rhiannon said gruffly, “before you two start making out . . .”
“Sorry,” Billy said. “Is there something else?”
She nodded. “Doug spoke with his dad. The firm will also be making a donation—a substantial one—to . . . whatever you call your foundation.”
Kate hadn’t thought that far ahead. “I guess we should come up with a name, shouldn’t we?”
Billy looked surprised. “Really? I thought this was a no-brainer.”
No-brainer? They hadn’t even discussed it. “Why? What do you want to call it?”
“Joey’s Place. What else?”
It was perfect. So perfect she couldn’t form the words to say so.
“That’s a great idea,” Rhiannon cried, echoing what she would have said if she could have found her tongue.
Since her hand already rested on Billy’s thigh, Kate gave it a squeeze.
“Doug and I have also been talking about something else,” Rhiannon continued. “We’d like to host Christmas this year.”
Kate and Billy exchanged glances.
“I mean it. You’ve got a lot going on, and we wouldn’t want to take the boys away for the holiday. I want us to be together, and you know Devin will want to see Danielle, so coming up here again would be hard for him.”
“That sounds terrific,” Billy said. “But who’s doing the cooking? I’m not eating anything made out of beans.”
Rhiannon looked hopeful. “Mom?”
She smiled. “I’ll be happy to cook—but I’m not cleaning up.”
“I’ll help, I promise. I need to learn how to cook something edible anyway. The boys can clean up.”
“Dayton and Dalton?” Billy asked, teasing.
She waggled her eyebrows at him. “The bigger boys: you, Devin, and Doug.”
“I can live with that.”
“Me too,” said Kate.
Rhiannon rocked back and tucked a long, blond strand of hair behind her ear. “Daddy, would you mind if I talked with Mom alone?”
He squeezed Kate’s leg as he stood. “I was just heading to bed.” He leaned over and kissed her. “In case I’m asleep when you come in.”
He kissed the top of Rhiannon’s head as he passed. When he was gone, she moved next to Kate on the sofa.
“I’m sorry, Mom.”
Her beautiful girl. “Sweetheart, for what?”
“Everything. For years of stuff, I guess.” She was looking up at the ceiling as if collecting her thoughts. “Somewhere along the way, I built Daddy up in my mind as some kind of hero, and I just saw you as someone who got in the way. All little girls fall in love with their dads, I guess, but I worshiped him. I was wrong. I realized that this past year. I love him, don’t get me wrong. But he was never the hero. It took me awhile to realize that was your job. I just didn’t realize it until you were gone.”
Kate settled her hands on Rhiannon’s shoulders. “Oh baby, I’m nobo
dy’s hero.”
“You are, Mom. Tonight reconfirmed it. You’re amazing. You always have been. I stopped seeing it at some point, and I’m sorry about that.”
“If you want to think of me as some type of hero, I’m flattered. Unworthy, but flattered.”
“You’re my hero. I also want to apologize for getting so angry with you when we arrived. I was shocked and embarrassed that everyone knew except me, but I get it now. Obviously you knew how I would react, so you were right to wait and tell me the way you did. I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to apologize. I mean, I was in tears half the way up here because I was convinced Daddy was going to tell us that he’d found someone new, and then here you were, and I flew off into a huff.” She ducked her head. “I was just thinking about myself. I’m sorry.”
Too overcome with emotion to speak, she squeezed Rhiannon’s hand.
“But even though I’m sorry about having you committed last year, I’m not sorry I did it. I may not have handled it the right way, and I should’ve told Daddy immediately . . . I’m sure he already told you about that.”
“You did what you thought was right, and like I told you, you saved my life. You and Uncle Joey.”
Rhiannon nodded. “Oh! That reminds me.”
She reached into the pocket of her robe.
“I found this earlier today. It’s the strangest thing. It was tucked behind a book I pulled out. I meant to give it to you this afternoon, but I forgot about it.”
She dropped something into Kate’s hand.
Before she could see it, Kate could feel it. Cool and solid. Her fingers closed around the roughly polished edges, remembering exactly how its weight had felt when Joey had pressed it into her palm. She squeezed harder, afraid if she opened her hand, it might disappear again.
Her mind reeled with a million thoughts and images, but now she held them all in her hand—a sea glass heart, picked up by her dearest friend and destined for her.
“Where . . .” Kate’s throat had gone dry. “Where did you find this?”
“On the shelf over there.” Rhiannon walked to the bookshelf in the far corner of the room and switched on the lamp.