Let You Go

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Let You Go Page 28

by Jaxson Kidman


  Carrie damn near jumped into my arms as she cried.

  My heart sank, fearing the worst.

  “Hey,” I said. “Where is he?”

  “He’s up there,” she said. “He keeps saying he’s sorry to me. That he’ll never be anything different.”

  “Okay,” I whispered. “Listen to me, Carrie. I want you to go sit in my truck. Okay? It’s still running. Put on the radio. I’ll be back in a few.”

  “Foster…”

  I gently touched her arms. “Hey. I know exactly how he feels. And I know how you feel. Carrie, I get it. I swear to you, I get it.”

  She nodded. “He’s getting moved, Foster. They’re moving him. We’re going to get separated.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Something happened and his family doesn’t want him anymore,” she said. “So he’s going to go back into the system and move. He’ll be in a new school. Away from me. I told him I’ll still love him. But he…”

  “Shit,” I whispered. “Okay. Just go hang in my truck.”

  I started to run.

  You wouldn’t think the ridge would be enough to effectively hurt yourself. But there was a good sized drop off on the other side of the ridge. If you went down head first, and the creek was drained enough, those jagged rocks sticking up like eager daggers… yeah, you could hurt yourself.

  When I saw Rhett standing there, he looked right at me and started to cry.

  That’s when I felt like an asshole. When he was in jail that night, I took off. When I found out he was my brother, I took off. I did the one thing our father had been famous for. Leaving. And even when I came back, the whole brother thing was more of a joke than serious.

  I walked toward him, and when I got close enough, I plucked the bottle out of his hand. Without saying a word, I held it up. Luckily, he hadn’t had that much. He wasn’t even drunk. Just buzzed, probably. I threw the bottle by the neck as far as I could.

  “Fuck you,” Rhett yelled.

  I still didn’t respond. I thought about myself, my life, and what I only ever wanted when I was Rhett’s age. I wanted my love, Rose. And I wanted someone to tell me it would be okay.

  I grabbed Rhett by the shirt and pulled him toward me. His eyes went wide, instant terror. I threw my other arm around him and hugged him. My brother. My little brother. The only real family member I had in my life.

  I squeezed him tightly and then put him at arms-length. “Rhett. It’s going to be okay.”

  He curled his lip, a defiant teenager, just like I had been what felt like yesterday.

  “I’m sorry, bro,” I whispered. “For everything. For not being there more when you needed someone. For the piece of shit that we call a father. I can give you the dad speech now about looking to what you have, who loves you, the fact that Carrie followed you here to protect you. But you know all of this already. So why waste my breath?”

  “I’m going to lose everything, Foster,” Rhett said. “They don’t want me anymore. I’ve lived there for two years now. It sort of felt like home. But they don’t want me, Foster.”

  I felt my heart cut like scissors to paper.

  “Fuck those people then,” I said.

  “If I move, I’ll lose Carrie.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Yes I do. You know it too, Foster. The way things go.”

  I nodded and swallowed. “Okay. So now you have to figure out how to make it work. You love her?”

  “Yeah. And don’t say I’m too…”

  “I never would,” I said. “I went through the same thing with Rose. Okay? I would be living with a family, trying to find my way around. Then our father would get out of jail and want me back. I would always end up back with him and then things would get fucked up.”

  “He said that to me,” Rhett said. “That he was getting things ready for me. He was going to get an apartment.”

  I felt anger boil in the pit of my gut. The same bullshit stuff our father used to say to me.

  “I know,” I said. “That’s what he always did. Forget about that. Don’t ever try to drink booze and come up here like you’re going to make some kind of statement. It’s not going to work, Rhett. Your statement would be silence. Is that what you want? Silence? You want me to grieve for you? You want to shatter Carrie’s heart? You want some guy to sweep in and pick up those pieces of her heart and fix her?”

  Anger washed over his face. “Don’t ever say that, Foster.”

  “Well, look what you’re doing. I get it, bro, you want attention. You want to let this out? The right way? Then you get your guitar and meet me in the basement of the coffeehouse. You practice all the songs to my set tomorrow night. You sleep there. You don’t leave that basement until you’re ready to go.”

  “Ready to go?”

  “You’re playing with me on stage, bro.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah. You’re going to let all this shit out.”

  Rhett swallowed hard. “Foster…”

  “Get on that stage and forget about the world.”

  Rhett didn’t speak again. He stood there, staring at me.

  “I love you, bro,” I said. “Long before this brother shit came about. You’re a good kid. I trust you and Carrie. I’ll do everything I can to help you both. Sometimes in life, shit doesn’t add up. It doesn’t feel fair. There are rules that are bullshit. Guys like us, Rhett, thrown in and out of the system like a beach ball at a concert. It makes you feel empty, used up, desperate to cling to something. I get it. I need you to give it to me, Rhett. Don’t hold that shit in. Don’t take it out on Carrie. Don’t try to get a bottle and come up here. Carrie loves you. But she’s not going to give up the rest of her life in your memory. I don’t care what anyone says.”

  “You don’t think Rose would do that for you?” Rhett asked.

  I hadn’t thought of it through my situation.

  “Well, no,” I said. “I mean, Rose is crazy enough to try. Maybe Carrie would be too. But imagine that. The woman you love, sitting there, days to weeks to months to years, waiting to die to be with you again. Missing out on their entire life because of you.” I put my finger to Rhett’s chest. “Because of you losing yourself. Forgetting what you have.”

  I pushed at Rhett and he stumbled back.

  “I need to see her,” he whispered. “Tell her I’m sorry.”

  I stepped to the side and he started to run.

  I let out a sigh and wished I hadn’t gotten rid of that bottle. What the fuck was I now… a father figure? I was still trying to figure out how to be a father to the baby that was due any day now.

  But that was just the beginning.

  I stood there and made a decision that would change everyone’s lives.

  44

  A Painful Gig

  Rose

  The coffeehouse was packed tight. Busier than I had ever seen before. Stephanie and Beth were going crazy behind the counter to keep up with the orders. The tables were full, people sharing spots with one another. The walls filled. The windows filled. Probably beyond the capacity that made it safe.

  All because of Foster.

  The stage was dark, except for a single light that shined on a barstool. A guitar rested against it.

  I saw Rhett sitting at the front of the crowd, a guitar case at his feet. He looked nervous as anything, legs bouncing, one hand holding a bottle of water, the other holding his girlfriend’s hand. When Foster told me what had happened with Rhett, I felt sick. My heart ached for Rhett, his girlfriend, and for Foster. I remembered what it was like seeing Foster go from house to house. Seeing the way his attitude changed, the times when he was in a different school and I wouldn’t see him for what felt like a lifetime.

  I had a seat off to the side, the benefits of being so pregnant. My feet were flat on the floor and more or less just rested against the chair. Foster insisted that I stay home in bed, but there was no way I’d miss this show. Neither would our baby.

  My
hand gently patted my stomach as I smiled.

  That’s when Foster appeared from the back room of the coffeehouse. He walked right to me and touched my chin. I had never seen him so alive and happy than when he saw me pregnant or stood on stage to play some songs.

  He leaned down and kissed me. Then he crouched lower and kissed my stomach.

  People started to take notice and clapped for him.

  It was a little crazy to think that he was becoming something like a local celebrity. The songs he had worked on while he was gone were actually becoming big deals. One was on the radio at least fifteen times a day. While it wasn’t Foster singing, it was his lyrics, his music… and he got paid for it.

  Foster got to the stage, grabbed his guitar, and gave a quick wave. He didn’t say a word. He just started playing a song.

  He played the song from the radio. Everyone cheered and everyone sang with him.

  I sat there, nodding away, watching the man I love do the one thing that made him happy. We were still so far away from perfect. Still in a mess. But we had each other. The only thing we ever truly wanted in life was each other. The rest was just noise. Vivian started dating some guy and was promising herself that she’d be with just him. That was breaking news. My father actually committed to his new diet and lifestyle and was getting better. My apartment looked like a baby store had gotten an order. Foster did all he could in his studio apartment to make it baby friendly, which was maybe the most adorable thing I ever saw. Last week he bought clamps and locks for all the cabinets and his TV stand so the baby couldn’t get into anything dangerous. I just smiled, not telling him that the baby wouldn’t be moving and crawling and walking for a long time.

  That’s all I thought about as Foster played his gig. Memory after memory flowed through my mind.

  Four songs into the set, Foster pointed to Rhett. He introduced Rhett as his brother and Rhett joined him on stage.

  They then started to play together. Brother and brother. Meeting through music and finding a deeper connection through family.

  A tightness swelled through my lower back and I had to stand up and stretch.

  My hands stayed put at my belly as I watched Foster and Rhett finish their first song.

  Then Foster looked right at me and said, “Hey Rose…”

  He strummed the first chord.

  To my surprise, half the place started to applaud. They knew the song. They knew it was Foster’s most popular song. The one he swore he’d never sell to anyone.

  His eyes locked on mine, Foster sang me my song.

  He sang most of it… because that tightness in my back started to get tighter.

  I tried to smile but knew it was fake.

  It hurt.

  Really bad.

  Really, really bad.

  Foster stopped strumming his guitar and stared at me.

  I mouthed to him sorry and started to nod.

  The baby was about to come.

  Three hours, twenty-three minutes. That was the timeframe from when that first crushing pain hit me to when I held my baby for the first time. Watching Foster drop his guitar and jump off the stage was something I’d never forget. He told everyone I was having a baby and that Rhett would finish the set. He held my hand and never let it go. He stared into my eyes when I told him I loved him. He stared into my eyes when the pain made me hate him. The only time he looked away from me was when he met his son.

  We named him Wesley. Foster instantly started to call him Wes.

  The only other time I fell in love that fast was when I met Foster for the first time.

  Foster cradled our baby with one arm and sat next to the hospital bed and cradled me with the other. I wasn’t exactly comfortable in that position, but I was cuddling close to my family.

  I looked up at Foster and for the first time ever, I saw a look of relief on his face. A look of peace.

  There was so much that I gave him. My heart. My body. My present. My future. But out of everything I could have ever done, I realized exactly what had happened.

  I gave him a family. The one thing he’d always wanted. The one thing he’d never had.

  But now he had it. And he would have it forever.

  Foster looked down at me. “You okay?”

  “I’m perfect.”

  “You did amazing, Rose.”

  “You did amazing,” I whispered.

  He smirked. He leaned down and stole a kiss from me. He kissed Wesley’s tiny head. Then he stared down at the baby.

  “Rose, I think the amazing part is going to start right now,” he said. His grip became tighter on my shoulder as he hugged us both. “And I can’t wait to see where this all ends up.”

  Epilogue

  I’ll Go First

  Foster

  I walked through the front door of the new house and found Rose in the kitchen with Wesley in a highchair. She held a coffee mug in her hand, looking tired but so fucking beautiful that it stopped my heart for a couple seconds. I didn’t care what she said about me just being nice, she was the prettiest thing I’d ever laid my eyes on. Especially when she was tired. There was just something about her… watching her as a mother… it drove me insane.

  She put her coffee mug down and jumped into my arms. We kissed like we were teenagers, me spinning her around until she giggled and said she was going to throw up.

  Wesley let out a yell and slapped his hands.

  “I’ve got you, kid,” I said.

  I leaned down and kissed him. Then I tickled his sides and he threw his head from side to side.

  Fuck, family was good.

  “How was work?” Rose asked.

  “Great,” I said.

  Work consisted of going to the studio apartment and recording music. The songs I worked on were hits. All of them. Hit after hit after hit. I was wanted for more, but I refused to travel. So Carl got the thumbs up to turn my apartment into a studio. I would stay put and write songs, video chat with artists, and of all things, they’d fly to me. If anything was really worth pursuing, I would have to fly out and do the recording session. But that only started recently. I hated to be away from Rose and Wesley.

  “Rhett and Carrie are upstairs,” Rose said, rolling her eyes.

  I curled my lip. “I don’t like that.”

  “Trust.”

  “Screw that,” I said. “If I got trusted to be alone with you in your room…”

  “Stop,” Rose said.

  I had to act fast after Wesley was born. I got together all the money I could and was able to get a down payment for a house. Then I went for Rhett. I was his damn brother. I was his damn family. Nothing was going to change that.

  So I took him in. We took him. I was his legal guardian and he lived here. He had a home. He had a family. I couldn’t make up for all the shit our father fucked up in our lives, but I could at least try to give Rhett a future.

  “Um, hello?” a voice said.

  I turned and Carrie stood there, waving.

  “Hey, Carrie,” I said.

  “I’m just leaving,” she said. “I have to get home for dinner.”

  “You’re more than welcome to stay here,” Rose said. “I can call your mother.”

  “Thanks but we’re going to the movies tonight. Girls’ night out.”

  “Sounds like fun,” Rose said.

  “Tell her we said hello,” I said. “Let us know if you two need anything.”

  Two months ago Carrie’s mother left her stepfather. She found out he had been having an affair and as crazy as it was, he had been tied up in a prescription drug ring. Carrie’s mother basically lost everything and she and Carrie lived in a small apartment, but were happier. We liked having Carrie around. She and Rhett were good together.

  I kissed Wesley one more time. I gave Rose a kiss she would never forget. The only problem with kissing Rose was that no matter how hard I tried to steal her breath or make her stumble, she made me feel that way.

  I went upstairs to check on Rhett. The
re are about a hundred things that could go wrong just busting into a teenager’s bedroom. But taking the fatherly role, it was my damn house and I didn’t have to knock. Plus, I heard Rhett playing guitar, so I didn’t expect to catch anything happening.

  “Sounds good,” I said as I opened the door.

  Rhett stopped playing. “Hey, Foster. Thanks.”

  Rhett looked jumpy. He hurried to put his guitar back in the hard case. Fumbling, he bumped the case and I saw something in the small compartment that was supposed to be for guitar picks and strings. Now, to be honest, I used to hide plenty of stuff in that compartment.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  Rhett looked at me, face turning red. “Foster…”

  “Shit,” I said. “What is in that? Show me. Don’t make me have to force it out of your hand.”

  Letting out a busted groan, Rhett opened the small compartment and took out a little box. He threw it at me.

  As I opened it, I hoped it wasn’t drugs.

  It wasn’t.

  It was a diamond ring.

  A nice diamond ring.

  “Whoa,” I said. “You bought this?”

  “Yeah,” Rhett said. “I’ve been working my ass off. Two jobs.”

  “I know you have.”

  “I bought that for Carrie.”

  “Rhett, this looks like an engagement ring.”

  He shrugged his shoulders.

  “Holy shit,” I said. “You know you can’t…”

  “I know,” he said. “But I know what I want.”

  “I can respect that, okay? But there’s no way in hell you’re giving Carrie this ring anytime soon.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously,” I said. “I’m going to hang onto this ring.”

  “You’re not going to make me return it? Invest my money elsewhere?”

  “No. You believe in this, Rhett, then so do I. This is going to make you work harder than you’ve ever worked before. Because giving this ring doesn’t mean shit unless you back it up.”

 

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