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Blessed Tragedy

Page 3

by HB Heinzer


  “Thank you,” I said curtly. I was still pissed off and hurt but trying to remain civil since he came to me. “But I still don't get it. I'll never get to say goodbye to her. You guys took that away from me.”

  Matt took three deep breaths and stared out the window to our mom's backyard rose garden. “I don't expect you to understand. And I can't tell you how sorry I am that you didn't get to say goodbye to mom. But you need to know it's what she wanted. She made us promise to not call you until last night. And well, you know how that turned out.”

  I turned and doubled over with my arms resting against my knees. How could my own mother have hated me so much that she made her husband and her sons promise they wouldn't call to tell me she was dying? What kind of fucked up logic is that? And if that's how she really felt, why in the hell had I left the tour to come to her funeral?

  When I shot out of my seat to leave, Matt grabbed me, wrapping his arms so tightly around my body I couldn't have moved if I wanted to. And that's when I felt everything I had left in me flood out like a breached levy.

  In a moment of tenderness I had never experienced in my oldest brother's arms, we sank onto the kitchen floor and he rocked me. It seemed like we sat there forever with him rocking me and brushing my hair away from my face as I shuddered in anguish. He didn't try to say anything else until I was calm enough to understand his words.

  “Hey, Moo, it's not what you're thinking,” he whispered. “She loved you more than anything. I think she loved you more than she loved any of us--”

  “That's not true and you know it, Matthew,” I sobbed. If she loved me, she would have made them get me home in time. She wouldn't have tried to talk me out of doing what I love. She would have celebrated my successes instead of sighing in disapproval every time she looked at me or when we talked on the phone.

  “It is,” he assured me. “Okay, so she'd never say she loved you most but she always wanted a little girl. When she got pregnant with Mike, we used to pray for him to be a little girl. And well, we got closer with Mark, but it wasn't until you came around that she got what she always wanted.”

  I whipped my head up from Matt's shoulder when he mentioned Mark. “Oh come on, tell me you didn't know,” he laughed. I laughed with him, as wrong as it felt to be laughing when we were supposed to be mourning.

  “I did,” I admitted, “but he's spent the past seven years trying to make sure you guys didn't know. I'm not sure if you've noticed, but people in this family tend to pass judgment pretty quickly.”

  “You're right, but that's not the point right now,” Matt scolded. “Mama loved you. She didn't want us calling you because she knew you'd be driving past today. We all thought she had more time and she figured you could stop by when you drove through and that would be enough.”

  For the second time in sixty seconds, my jaw was on the floor. “She did?” I asked in disbelief.

  “Yeah, she did. Believe it or not, mom followed your every move online. When we knew it was getting close, Dad wanted to call you. She wore herself out begging him to let you keep doing what you love and said she'd wait for you. And as crazy as it sounds, I really think she tried. She loved you, Maddie-moo.”

  That brought on a second wave of uncontrollable sobbing. I'd spent so many years staying away because I thought she hated me only to find out two days after she died that she kept track of what I was doing and where I was going. That was the first time I believed Matt's accusations that I was a selfish bitch.

  Never before had I felt like I would lose it if I didn't talk to Colton immediately. Nothing was making sense and I needed him to translate life for me. I got off Matt's lap, gave him a peck on the cheek and ran to my room.

  She really did love me. She knew what I was doing. She gave up seeing me so I could live my dream.

  Chapter Three

  “Madeline Grace,” Mike hollered up the stairs, “have your backside in a seat in five minutes or we're leaving without you.”

  I didn't want to go anywhere. Everything Matt told me had given me the worst tension headache I could remember having in a long time. I wanted to sleep. I wanted to enjoy the fact that I had a bed to sleep in that didn't rock from side to side as we ambled down the freeway. And now, they were dragging me out of the house.

  “Dammit Mike, I just got off the road,” I whined as I stomped down the stairs. “Think you could let me rest for just a little bit?” It was risky, using my over-the-road status as a reason to not go anywhere but I was too tired for wit.

  “No can do, Maddie-Moo,” he sing-songed as he walked out the front door. “Get in the minivan; we have to hit the road.”

  Matt, Mark and my dad were already in the van by the time I slid my way to the back bench seat. At least I'd be able to stretch out and get a cat nap. I didn't care if I only slept for five or ten minutes, I was beyond the point of exhaustion.

  As I buckled my seat belt, I noticed the same smug expression on the face of all three of my brothers and my dad. Something was going on and they weren't telling me. I was used to it, had been for years, but that didn't make it any less infuriating.

  It felt wrong to be piling in for a road trip but Mom wouldn't have wanted us to stop living when she was gone. The arrangements were made, the first family members would be arriving tomorrow afternoon and nothing would bring her back. Might as well see what they had planned and go with it.

  Nothing seemed out of the ordinary as my brother, Mike, eased the van onto the Interstate. It seemed early to be going to dinner but I figured we might be going to do some shopping in preparation for the barrage of family descending on us in the next few days. It wasn't until he drove past the last exit for the city that I started to wonder what was going on.

  “So, do we have a destination in mind or are we all running away from home?” I asked with a hint of snark.

  “You'll see, Maddie-Moo,” Matt said with a mischievous grin. It was a sight I had seen so infrequently it made me nervous.

  “Really not in the mood for games today,” I sulked. No games and not a fan of surprises. They know this. I've always hated surprises. And if ever there was a time they'd be inappropriate, it was now.

  When no one would answer me, I picked up my cell phone to text Colton.

  On the road, no one will tell me where they're taking me. If you don't hear back, assume they've left me in a ditch somewhere.

  I curled onto the bench seat trying to keep myself from getting worked up. The guys were tighter than a virgin at the beginning of prom and there was no way they were going to tell me where we were going. I had to do something I hadn't done in years. I had to trust my brothers and my dad.

  Some time later, I was pulled out of my exhausted sleep by the sound of my phone chirping.

  I'm sure they're not going to kill you, but always good to know who you're with just in case. I'll call you in about 30, k?

  Yep, that works. Miss you.

  Miss you too. It's not the same without our little storm cloud running around.

  Bite me. Talk to you soon.

  I looked at the clock on my phone and realized I'd been sleeping for over an hour. That meant we'd been on the road for almost an hour and a half.

  “Mike, did you get us lost again?” I whined through the silence in the van. Matt and Mark were both sleeping in the middle seat and dad was staring listlessly out the passenger's side window. I wanted more than anything to unbuckle and go hug him but I didn't figure my sheriff’s deputy brother would appreciate waking up to my ass brushing past him on my way to the front seat.

  “Nope, I know exactly where we're going,” he called back smiling into the rearview mirror. “Mark, get your ass up,” he said reaching behind his seat to slap Mark's leg.

  “I'm up,” he grumbled.

  “Sure you are,” Mike laughed. I rubbed my eyes, certain I was still dreaming. Everyone seemed so normal. Even if it wasn't for the fact that the men had just finished planning our mother's funeral, this was too normal. It felt like we were
a functional family. “Everything taken care of?”

  Mark glanced down at his phone, “Yep. I'll forward this text to you so you know what to do.”

  The only thing worse than non-verbal discussions was when they talked about things right in front of me in a way I couldn't understand. I slumped back in my seat and dialed Colton's number.

  “Hey, how's my favorite storm cloud holding up?” he asked as soon as the call connected. I'd never been a fan on nicknames; I'm pretty sure that made those close to me want to use them even more.

  “Fuck you,” I snapped. Any trace of a good mood was overshadowed by my brothers planning something and I didn't want to deal with Colton's taunting on top of it.

  “Hey now, don't snap at me. I'm assuming since we're talking that they haven't killed you and thrown the corpse in a ditch yet?” There was something off with his tone. After spending every day for five months and nearly every day for five years with someone, you learn to pick up on little inflections.

  “No, still alive but they've got something shady going on,” I grumbled. I caught the sight of more buildings out of the corner of my eye and took a minute to pay attention to my surroundings.

  “Fuck me,” I blurted.

  “Madeline Grace Neumann,” my father said sternly. “You will kindly watch your language while you are in our presence.”

  “Haha, Maddie got in trouble... Maddie got in trouble--”

  “So help me Colton, you call me that again and I will kneecap your ass in front of God and everybody,” I spat. The assholes were all in on this together. “And since I'm assuming I'll be seeing you in about ten minutes, don't tell me I couldn't do it because we both know I can.” I hung up the phone without another word.

  I have to be dreaming. Everything that's happened in the past twelve hours can only be explained by psychotic hallucinations brought on by grief. What other explanation was there for the fact that I'm pulling into Denver in the backseat of my brother's minivan two days after my mom died with my dad and all of my brothers? The same family who has been all too happy to tell me how selfish I am for following my dreams at all costs were now escorting me to tonight's concert when we should be getting everything ready for the funeral.

  “Do I even want to know?” I asked, arms folded tightly across my chest.

  “Sorry Moo,” Mark said not at all apologetically from the middle seat, “it's another promise we made to mom.”

  Hearing them all talk about promises they made to mom killed me. They had the chance to make promises. They made promises that involved my life without taking my feelings into account. I doubled over sobbing, my exhausted mind unable to process everything.

  “Hey,” Matt said unbuckling to climb into the back seat next to me. “It's okay Moo.”

  I really wish they'd quit calling me that. If they call me that in public, I'll kneecap their asses too. I don't care if it's Dad. Kneecaps will be crushed Tonya Harding style.

  I'm not sure I'll ever get used to the nurturing side of Matt. Maybe he's only being that way because of everything that's going on and life will go back to dysfunctionally normal at some point.

  “Hey, look at me,” Matt said softly. Mark joined us on the bench seat and I knew it was going to be an emotional night. The last time I had two brothers comforting me was probably when I was seven years old. “Mom made us promise that if there was any way around it, you wouldn't miss a show. Mark called Colton while I was talking to you in the kitchen to let him know what was going on.”

  I looked from one brother to the other and then to the front seat. “You do know what type of music we sing, right? What are you guys doing while I'm in there?” It seemed ludicrous to think they'd come to the concert. Not only did they have better things to do but there was far too much grit and not enough folk in our music to suit their tastes.

  “Mark warned us,” Mike called back from the driver's seat. “He said you guys aren't that bad as long as we try to pay attention to the lyrics and ignore the rest.”

  I started crying harder. I knew Mark had come to some of our shows and was proud of me, but it meant the world that he was willing to stick up for me to the older two. And it was overwhelming to know that my entire family was going to be in the audience when I walked on stage tonight. Realizing that the entire family wasn't going to be there made me break into a full-on ugly cry complete with hyperventilation. Why couldn't this have been happening sometime in the past so Mom could have seen me too?

  “Moo, you gotta calm down,” Mark whispered in my ear. “You know Colton's gonna give you shit if you're crying like a baby.” He was right. It'd be done in good humor but it would be merciless and would go on for years.

  “I don't know if I can do this,” I wailed. It was the first time in five years that I couldn't imagine getting myself pumped up and running out on stage. I lived for it. The screaming crowds and heat from the lights fed my soul.

  “I know you promised mom but I really can't. They already made changes because I wasn't going to be here,” I said trying to place the focus on business. “I can't just expect them to change it up again.”

  Mark pressed his fingers under my chin to keep me from going on. “Maddie, I already talked to Colton. He was surprised when I told him but said he'd take care of everything. Now, can you please promise me you'll go out there and kick some ass tonight? I've seen you do it. Let them see it,” he said pointing at our brothers and father. “Show them that it's all been worth it.”

  The sign hanging over the freeway showed that we had four miles to the exit. That meant four minutes on the highway, three minutes on surface streets and however long it took to get through security. That wasn't much time to prepare my straight-laced, closed minded family for what they were going to see.

  “Did you tell them that this,” I said pointing to my outfit, “is going away as soon as I step on that bus? I don't need Dad having a heart attack when he sees me on stage tonight.”

  My dad turned in his seat, “Moo, I've seen pictures of what you look like on stage. I don't like the outfits and you don't need all that makeup and crap hanging off your face, but it's all worth it for the light in your eyes.”

  Another wave of sobs overcame me as we pulled up to the red light at the bottom of the ramp. Matt and Mark rubbed my back trying to assure me it'd be okay.

  “Aww, Maddie, don't cry. I'm sorry it took this to get me to come around,” Dad said pinching the bridge of his nose to hold back his own tears. “There's so much I'd do different if I could but I can't. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you and I know your mom was sorry too. We can talk more about that later, just know I'll suffer through whatever crap I have to if it means I get to see you live and in-person.”

  I wiped the tears from my eyes as Mike pulled up to the security shack at the back of venue. I needed to get my act together before getting out of the van. If this is what they told Mom they'd do, I didn't really have any choice but to go on stage and put everything I had into every song for her.

  “Let's do this. And FYI, anyone calls me Moo while we're here; I'm likely to come unglued. I can't expect you to call me Rain, although I'd prefer that, but Moo is simply unacceptable.”

  My declaration was met with snickers from all three of my brothers while Dad tried to remind them to respect my wishes. I shook my head in disbelief that these were the same brothers I'd convinced myself hated me which led to wondering why we couldn't have found a way to get along sooner so we hadn't lost five years of time together.

  “I'm gonna jump on the bus for a minute to make sure the guys are decent. Mike, can you run and get me something to eat? Nothing heavy, just a salad or something. When you get back, they should let you right through and you can park back here.”

  “Yes, ma'am.”

  Jon and Travis were still scrambling to sit when I opened the bus door. Their plan to pretend they hadn't been watching my brother's minivan failed miserably.

  “Hey boys, mama's home.” I flopped into one of the captain's
chairs near the front of the bus thankful to be back in the place that made my life make sense. Between the emotional drain I was expecting and the freight train of confessions that hit me on the way here, I was barely holding it together.

  “So, they just drop you off and they're running away?” Travis asked as he handed me a cold beer.

  “Nope. Apparently Colton has passes for them. He and Mark are in on this shit together.” I looked to the back of the bus to see if the bedroom door was open. I wanted to have a word with Colton before the guys got back. He could have given me a heads up. “Let's pretend it's just another night. Too much shit to get into right now. I need to grab a shower but they'll to be back. Where's Colt?”

  “He's inside taking care of some shit. One of his guitars got damaged after the last show and he's trying to figure out who to kill,” Jon said as if it was just another day at the office. Colton probably was trying to keep from hurting someone, especially if it wasn't a back-up piece. “Just go do what you have to. Mark's with them so he can play buffer if shit goes south.”

  Remembering everything my brothers told me in the past thirty minutes, I didn't think that was going to be a problem. I was more worried that the guys were going to think I'd lied to them about how my family treated me to get them to stay away. Mark might wind up having to be the buffer between me and the band instead.

  “Okay,” I conceded. “After talking to them on the way over, I don't think that'll be a huge issue. Maybe take them in and show them around while it's not insane. That'll help the shock factor tonight.”

  “Don't worry, I'm good with family.” Travis wrapped his arm around me and pecked my cheek. I'd have been more confident if his breath wasn't giving away the fact that he already had a pre-show beer buzz in the works.

  It was definitely good to be home. I sighed, realizing I'd be yanked back out of my comfort zone as soon as the show ended. “Go, get beautiful. Colton already put your shit in your dressing room. Take your phone and we'll call you after the grand tour.”

 

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