Racing to Rhapsody: A Rhapsody Novel

by Selena Laurence

  He shifts, spinning and putting his elbows on the desk, toying with his coffee cup as he talks. “It was your grandmother who offered up the solution. When I called to tell her what had happened she offered to take you. I knew it was the perfect answer. I’d know you were being cared for appropriately and it wouldn’t interfere with anyone’s career. I told her—your mother—the plan, and she agreed to it, but she also asked that I never tell you who she was.”

  “Why?” The word is out of my mouth before I can stop it. “Why didn’t she want me to know who she was?”

  “I think she was afraid that you would tell people. Little kids say stuff. They can’t keep secrets, and while she was still building her career she was also confident that she was going places. She didn’t want to have to address questions about why she’d given up a kid. She didn’t want anyone to know that she had a child at all.”

  I shake my head. It stings. I’m an adult, and I understand what it means to make adult decisions. I also know that some people in the world are just cruel and selfish, but it doesn’t mean that there isn’t some part of me that’s a little girl who was abandoned by both her parents.

  “Who is she?” I ask quietly. “And don’t you dare try to get out of telling me. I deserve to know.”

  He chuckles softly. “God, I can’t believe I thought I was going to make it through the rest of my life and never have to do this.”

  I raise an eyebrow at him.

  “You know her already, Shannon.”

  My heart pounds and I have to consciously breathe to keep from hyperventilating.

  “We didn’t keep seeing each other, obviously, but she’s been my client for twenty-nine years.”

  And just like that, I do know who she is, the woman who gave birth to me. And all I can think is how stupid I am that I never realized it before, because it’s so obvious they might as well have painted it on a sign and hung it in the lobby.

  “Cara,” I murmur. “Cara Lucerne.” She’s an iconic actress, with red hair and enough independence to keep her single and childless her entire life. And if anyone knew I was Cara Lucerne’s daughter I’d be under a microscope for the rest of my life. Paparazzi trying to figure me out, publicists wanting me to earn them money.

  He nods. “I really thought when you came out here for college and started working with me that you’d figure it out. She was always bringing you those gifts and asking about your boyfriends. I told her she was going to tip you off, but she didn’t seem able to help herself.”

  “I look like her.” It’s all I can think to say as my mind flips through every interaction I’ve ever had with Cara. All the times she’s stopped off in my office when she was here to see my dad, all the gifts she’s had delivered when it was my birthday or a holiday.

  “You do.”

  “My whole life I dreamed of being in a room with both my parents at the same time, like a real family, and now you’re telling me that it’s happened, over and over, and I didn’t even know it.”

  He looks at me with pity, and I have a momentary desire to scratch his eyes out. The new information burns a hole through me like a hot poker to my gut.

  We sit in silence then, my father and me, both of us digesting twenty-seven years of secrets, and his monumental mistake—me. And it’s then that I realize something I’ve never seemed to grasp before, my father does love me, but he’ll never love me the way I need. He’ll never love me like a parent. To him I’m an obligation, something that he’s responsible for and cares about, but in a detached way, like a favorite pet or your sister’s kid that you hire as an intern in the summers.

  “Did she ask about me?” I question. “When I was growing up, did she wonder about me? See pictures of me or anything?”

  He cocks his head at me as if trying to figure out what I’m after. I don’t bother explaining it to him because I realize he wouldn’t understand anyway.

  “Sometimes. When she would hear that I’d been back to Illinois to visit she’d ask what you were up to. I’d show her pictures sometimes. When you broke your leg skiing that one winter she was concerned and called to check on you several times. Things like that.”

  Concerned. But not enough to come see me. Not enough to let me know I was hers. Concern isn’t the same as love. Even I know that.

  “I have to make a phone call, Dad. I’ll talk to you later,” I say as I stand.

  He stands too, looking a little panicked. “Shannon, what are you going to do?”

  I give him a small smile. “Don’t worry, Dad, I’m not calling her. But I am going to call the only real parent I’ve ever had. I need to remind her how much I love her.”

  A few minutes later I sit at my desk and press the first name in my call log.

  “Hi, Gram,” I say, willing myself not to cry. “I wanted to tell you how much I love you…”

  We talk, and I thank her, not for being my grandmother, but for being my parent, because I’m starting to understand what Tully said when she told me that you can’t convince people to love you, and you need to appreciate the people who do. It’s time for me to stop trying to convince and start trying to appreciate.

  Dez

  Garrett is staying in Portland for a while. Tully still has her old place over Savvy’s pub where she lived before she and Blaze got their house together. She’s letting Garrett stay there so that he can go to some twelve-step meetings at the rehab facility for a few more weeks. He also goes to meetings in town, and for some reason he’s determined that he’s going to help out in the pub as well. I’m not sure why, it’s very unlike Garrett who doesn’t generally do any work he doesn’t have to, but maybe this is the new improved post-rehab Garrett.

  I’ve spent a week at Blaze and Tully’s new house, and Garrett and I have been hanging out at Studio B, the famous recording studio where Lush works, to write some new tracks. It’s going well, and I’m hoping that by the time Blaze gets home tomorrow we’ll have two new songs for him to look at.

  “Dude!” I call as I walk in the back door of Savvy’s pub. The stairs to the apartment are in the kitchen right next to the back door. No one’s around even though the pub opens in an hour, which is unusual.

  I get to the bottom of the stairs and open the door.

  “Come on, baby,” I hear Garrett say.

  My whole body skids to a stop, one foot poised over the bottom stair. Dammit. He’s picked up a chick. Shit. Shit. Shit. He’s not allowed to have any relations for at least six months, and then sex can only be on real dates, and only with one woman a month. Sex addiction is a little different than substances. You can’t just stop having sex. Garrett has all kinds of boundaries and rules he needs to adhere to so that his activities don’t spiral out of control again.

  There’s whispering and then something that sounds like quiet crying. I know Garrett would never hurt anyone, but I’m afraid if he’s desperate for a fix he might push too hard, make a woman uncomfortable. I have to intercede.

  “Garrett!” I call out before climbing the stairs. “I’m coming up, dude.”

  There’s some shuffling and then a figure flies down the stairs past me. Her hair is hanging around her face, but I swear it was Savvy.

  I reach the top of the stairs and find Garrett standing in the small living room looking forlorn.

  “Hey, man, what the hell’s going on?”

  “Not what you think,” he says, hands out to the sides in surrender.

  “Dude, was that Savvy?”

  “Yeah, and there was nothing happening, I swear. We were just talking.”

  I nod, and because it’s Savvy and she just lost her husband less than three months ago I believe him.

  “She upset about something?”

  He sighs. “Yeah, you know things are hard for her right now. Little Ty is a handful and the business isn’t doing well.”

  “Are you and Savvy friends?” I ask, perplexed at how he seems to know so much about what’s going on with her.

  He shrugs and looks away. “
We talk. I mean, since I started staying here. I think she’s lonely, you know. Tully and Blaze are gone a lot, and her mom just wants her to move home and give up the bar.”

  “Really? Isn’t the bar turning a profit? It was doing fine when Kevin was alive, right?”

  “It was always a struggle and the place kept afloat mostly because Kevin worked around the clock.”

  “Yeah, he was a good guy. The kind that keeps the whole country in business, you know what I mean?”

  Garrett looks sort of stricken. It’s hard to think about Kevin, even for those of us who didn’t know him real well.

  “He didn’t deserve what happened,” Garrett says solemnly, his brows drawn.

  “No, he didn’t, but Savvy has to go on and it sounds like she’s struggling.”

  “Yeah, man, she is, and I want to help as much as I can. I told her I’d man the bar nights. I can open so that she can stay home and give Ty his dinner and put him to bed. That’s how she and Kevin worked it, then the sitter or one of the grandmothers would come over while Savvy worked for the last half of the night to help close.”

  “But she doesn’t want you to?” I ask, trying to figure out why Garrett seems so determined to do this.

  “She’s not sure. She’s just… I don’t know, confused about stuff. But if someone doesn’t take charge of all of this the place isn’t going to make it.”

  “I thought Blaze and Tully hired someone to manage it for Savvy for a while?”

  He shakes his head. “She fired the guy, said he was shorting the register, and he cancelled Whiskey Wednesdays.” He raises a brow at me. “It was Kevin’s favorite night.”

  I mouth an ‘O’. “Well, shit, so is she trying to do it all herself?”

  “Yeah, and Ty’s not handling it so well. She’s gone all the time, trying to do everything here and the little dude just lost his dad. It’s rough on him.”

  I go and sit next to him on the sofa. “Do you really think it’s such a good idea to get so involved in all of this? You live in L.A. This is temporary. If you get her used to having you to lean on and then you leave in a few weeks it might do more harm than good.”

  “I uh, I was thinking maybe I’d stay awhile. Blaze is here all the time, you were here for a few months with him, now you’re here again with me. Maybe we can all stay for a while.”

  Then it hits me. Maybe Garrett is afraid to go back to L.A., back to the rock and roll life. Maybe he’s using Savvy as an excuse to stay close to rehab, out of the limelight, away from women and sex.

  “You worried about staying on the wagon if you go back to L.A.?” I ask bluntly.

  He gives me the side-eye and shrugs. “I don’t know for sure. All I do know is that I really want to help Savvy and I like Portland. I feel more grounded, more at home, than I have in a decade in L.A.”

  I’m the last person to deny someone a little peace. The good thing about having a band is that we can live wherever the hell we want as long as we can get together when we need to for rehearsals, performances, and recordings. So, I guess if Garrett wants to stay in Portland and tend bar for a while then that’s what he should do.

  “Then stay, tend bar, help out Savvy. If it’s helping you be healthy then I support it a hundred percent.”

  He gives me a small smile. “Okay. Then I don’t want to go to the studio, I want to go downstairs and help Savvy open the bar. I need to show her that I can do this. I need to take some of the weight off of her.”

  I’m surprised, but I try not to show it. He’s working through shit, and I need to support that.

  “You’re a good guy. You want some help?”

  He grins. “I think if people realize that we’re hanging out here it’ll increase business.”

  I don’t even have to consider that, and I realize that Garrett might be a better businessman than any of us realize.

  “I think you’re right,” I answer. “Let’s go be visible.”

  He high fives me and we go downstairs to be rock star bartenders.

  It’s four a.m. and I’ve been asleep for a couple of hours when the phone ringing jolts me from a deep sleep. I’m so bleary-eyed I can’t even see what name is on the screen.

  “Yeah?” I croak out, struggling to sit up at the same time.

  “Takimoto?” a gruff voice demands.

  “Yeah, this is Dez Takimoto.” I’m still struggling to get coherent, but in the back of my mind warning sirens are going off.

  “This is Richard Gunn, Gunn Management.”

  Fuck. Shannon’s dad. Why is he calling me in the middle of the night? It can’t be about contract disputes, even Richard Gunn takes a break from business at four in the morning.

  “Is Shannon okay?” My mind goes immediately to the next possibility.

  “There’s been an accident. I wasn’t sure—” and for a moment, I hear the world’s most self-assured man falter, his voice cracking. “I thought maybe you’d want to know. I wasn’t sure how you left things…but I thought you’d want to know.”

  “Tell me everything,” I say as I put the phone on speaker and begin dressing. By the time he’s explained, I have my keys and wallet in hand, and I’m walking out the door to the private airstrip.

  Her face is so pale when I walk into her room several hours later that I have to take a deep breath before I can take the last few steps to her bed.

  “Jesus, baby,” I whisper. “What the hell happened to you?”

  My heart beats time and a half as I gingerly sit on the edge of her bed and look at the monitors and tubes attached to her. Lights blink, machines chime, and in the midst of it she’s motionless, still as a statue, and white as the sheets.

  Her arm is already in a cast, and there are stitches running beneath her collarbone like a line of black ink. I trace them softly, remembering the steel butterfly that lay in nearly that same place.

  “It was her necklace,” a voice says from the doorway.

  I turn to see her father standing there in sweatpants and a t-shirt. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the man when he wasn’t in a power suit.

  He takes a couple of steps into the room. “She had this necklace she’s been wearing—it’s a butterfly, a metal butterfly of all things, and in the crash it sliced into her.”

  Fuck. She wore it, and it did this to her. My heart hurts as I look at the ugly cut across her ivory flesh.

  “But the amazing thing is the necklace survived. Didn’t get bent or broken. It embedded in her skin like it didn’t want to leave her. Before she passed out at the scene the paramedics said she clung to the damn thing like it was a miracle.”

  He pulls the steel butterfly out of his pocket and holds it out to me.

  “I imagine you’ll want to give it back to her?”

  I take if from his hand and nod, wondering how he knew it was from me as I swallow around the thick lump in my throat.

  “It was me,” he says with no explanation. “I told her she had to end it with you.” He walks around the room slowly, examining a picture of flowers on the wall, then the gray early morning view outside the windows. “I made her vice president of the company, I knew she wanted it badly, and I didn’t want her distracted.” He looks at me pointedly. “You were a distraction, so I told her to finish it.”

  I shake my head. Anger churns inside me. He knew her weakness, and he used it to get what he wanted—her undivided energy.

  “You’re a really terrible parent,” I say, almost laughing at the absurdity of him having the title.

  “I am,” he agrees. “I always knew I would be, which is why I didn’t raise her. And it was the right decision, because she’s twice the person I’ll ever be.”

  “If you know how amazing she is, why do you treat her like you do?” I touch her face, marveling at how warm her skin is, even now when she’s lying here like the dead.

  Richard shrugs, then rolls his shoulders reminding me of a fighter about to enter the ring. “I’ve never needed anyone or anything in my life except the busin
ess. But the last few years, working side by side with Shannon, I started to realize that I want her there, and I didn’t want her to leave me. She’s not the kind of woman who can go without a challenge. I knew that as long as I kept her challenged she’d stay around to win.”

  “So you kept pushing her harder, asking for more, setting up new obstacles.”

  He nods. “Because if I hadn’t she would have outgrown me those first couple of years. She’s too smart and too good at the job.”

  My hand clenches and unclenches as I let the anger wash through me.

  “She didn’t care about the next hurdle,” I tell him, bitterness soaking into every word. “She wanted your love, and thought that someday she’d finally pass the last test and you’d give it to her.”

  His face is twisted with anguish. “Jesus,” he grits out. “What a mess we’ve made of all this.”

  I can’t disagree with him so I just stroke Shannon’s hair and will her to wake up.

  “I’ll leave you with her. I’m in the waiting room down the hall. Will you have them get me when she wakes?”

  I nod my agreement and he’s gone. I slip off my shoes, and climb onto the bed, careful not to disconnect any of the tubes or wires as I lie on my side and curl my body around hers protectively. I kiss her on the forehead and whisper in her ear.

  “It’s all going to be okay, baby. You just need to wake up and we’ll fix everything. I promise. I love you, Shannon. And I’m not going anywhere.”

  Shannon

  The beeping noise is relentless, and I move my arm to try to grab whatever is making it so I can turn it off. When I do, however, a searing pain shoots through my shoulder and across my chest.

  I can’t help the whimper that follows, and the next thing I know the entire bed is moving and Dez is there, his hands on my face, his voice in my ear.