by Devyn Dawson
I BET YOU’RE THINKING ABOUT ME RIGHT NOW. 1:16 pm
TATE – I BET YOU’RE PINING FOR ME RIGHT NOW 1:25 pm
I BET YOU’RE RIGHT. STILL THINKING ABOUT ME AREN’T YOU? 1:26 pm
IF YOU MUST KNOW, I JUST SHAVED MY LEGS. SO YES, I GUESS I’M THINKING ABOUT YOU. 1:27 pm
GIRL, YOU JUST MADE MY DAY! I CAN’T WAIT TO RUN MY HANDS UP AND DOWN YOUR LEGS TO CHECK THEM OUT. I’M THE LEG PATROL. 1:28 pm
BOY, YOU’RE A DORK. I’M READY TO BE PATROLED. LATER TATER 1:29 pm
GOD, I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU. BYE. PS – I LIKE YOUR BOOBS! 1:30 pm
He likes my boobs? This reclaimed virginity rule is starting to annoy me.
***
The lawyer’s office is across town, where all the fancy office buildings and ritzy houses are located. Tate’s truck is backed-up into a spot under a shade tree. In new areas you don’t see many established trees. Builders like to wipe out everything and start from scratch. I pull the Charger into the empty spot next to him.
Tate comes over and opens my car door for me.
“Hey beautiful, did you have a good day?” Tate asks as he kisses my forehead.
“Yeah, how about you?”
“Can’t complain.” I thought he would be wearing his dress uniform, which is so much better than camouflage. Instead, he’s wearing a fitted dark blue golf shirt and jeans. “Let’s go find out what our attorney says.”
The secretary escorts us into a small conference room with a round table and leather chairs. It’s exactly how I would picture the inside of an attorney’s office to look. Dark wood paneling on the walls, expensive looking artwork exquisitely framed and hung on the walls. Mr. Byrd is standing up, he’s no more than five foot eight, but he looks and dresses like Ryan Seacrest from American Idol. I don’t know which one is older, I’d guess Mr. Byrd to be about thirty.
“Mr. Cook, Miss Clifford, please have a seat. I’ve been looking over the contract for you this afternoon. Do you have any questions regarding the contract?” Mr. Byrd asks.
Tate clears his throat before answering the attorney. “I’m just concerned about not being able to fulfill a predetermined gig due to my Air Force obligations.”
“I’m going to request an addendum to make the provision for your military career. Now Miss Clifford, are you wanting to go on stage alone in the event he’s off playing war hero?”
War hero? “Alone? No. In that war hero addendum, go ahead and say I have a migraine and can’t perform. He can perform without me any time, but I don’t want to return the favor,” I say as one long run-on sentence.
Mr. Byrd chuckles like an old man and nods his head and squints his eyes as he looks my direction. “Miss Clifford, you can request anything you want. Keep in mind, they can reject any request we make. You haven’t signed yet, so you are in control. Are you both okay with getting paid quarterly? We can always ask to be paid monthly.”
“Yeah, I want to get paid monthly if possible,” I say without thinking of Tate.
“I agree with her, monthly would be more beneficial to us. I’m okay with singing alone so they don’t need to worry about me. The contract is for twenty-four months, I’d like to make it eighteen months if Holland is on board.”
“Is there a reason you want eighteen months?” Mr. Byrd asks.
I’m even puzzled by the request.
“My main concern is they only heard us one time and obligating us for two years. Since we’re both new to being a duet, it works out better if something happens.”
Something happens? Did he mean if we break up?
“Something happens?” I ask.
He reaches for my hand but I pull it away.
“Holland, I don’t mean us. I mean the military will get vindictive if I try to reschedule a TDY. On the farm, we will only contract people for twelve to eighteen months. It isn’t the norm, but it is for us. It has nothing to do with our relationship. I promise.”
I study his face and decide he’s telling the truth.
It takes us another hour for the secretary and Mr. Byrd to make the changes and send it off to the other attorney. We sign a fancy tablet with a stylus, it will be our approved signature for the contract once we agree. The attorney will use it to sign documents as needed, per our request. We never have to come back to the office. At the very end of our meeting, he hands me an invoice for fourteen hundred dollars. Tate reaches over and takes the bill. He pulls fourteen one hundred dollar bills from his wallet. I don’t know why the bill surprises me, probably because I thought consultations were free.
***
The air is thick with the threat of a thunderstorm as we step out into the evening sun. It’s still in the upper nineties, soon we’ll hit the hundreds and the typical summer drought.
“I’m paying you back for the attorney. I honestly didn’t think about it costing anything. I’ve never needed an attorney before today.” I’m annoyed, but I don’t know why.
“I don’t want your money, Holland. I have the money, you don’t need to pay.” He tries to put his arm around me but I pull away.
“No, you’re not going to sweet-talk me and bat your eyelashes to get your way. I’m serious, this is business, and I’ll pay my portion.” I entered the money into my savings account for school. Tomorrow, I’ll borrow the money and pay myself back when I get my first check.
“Stop, don’t get upset about it, I didn’t mean to step on your toes. Come on, get in the truck and we’ll go have dinner.”
I cross my arms in front of me. “Are you going to take my money when I give it to you?”
“I have the money. I’m not bragging, but I have more than enough money. Please don’t be mad at me.” He comes over and wraps his arms around me with my arms still crossed and smashed against my chest.
“Great, you have money, I get that. My aunt has money. Andy came from money! Everyone has money and right now I have the money to pay my own way. I’m not a mooch. I don’t want to be the girl you tell your military buddies about and they say I’m after you for your money.”
His arms tighten around me. “No one knows I have money. They think I pay for things with credit like they do. Don and Tracy have no idea about my family. You’re the only person in Oklahoma that knows about me that way. I don’t want to fight with you.” He leans back but doesn’t move his arms. He bends so he can look me in the eyes. I know I’m pouting and being slightly unreasonable, but this music stuff has me stressed out.
Those freakishly pretty eyes of his are unfair ammunition. “Are you going to take the money?”
“Yes, if it is that important to you, I will take your money. If you’re not quiet about it, I’m going to have you buy my dinner.” He kisses the top of my head and my body relaxes.
“Okay, but I’m not buying you dinner. You order some expensive crap,” I tease.
“By the way, your boobs look great tonight,” he whispers in my ear as he opens the passenger door.
***
Chapter Eleven. Release Day
Tate had to take a rain-check for the lake last night. He found out they would be having a dorm inspection this morning and a meeting of some sort. The hospital just called to tell me they’re releasing my dad within the hour. I throw on a pair of shorts and brush my teeth before running out to get him.
The hospital parking lot is full as I pull in to the visitor section. To pick up mental patients they require you to go up to the psychiatric floor and sign the patient out.
I haven’t talked to him since the therapy session the other day. I’ve looked for the last couple of days for my mom’s phone number; I never found it. Thinking about how the two of them decided this was in my best interest, just pisses me off. When I was seven, we had a class project to do our family tree. My mom said she only had one cousin who lived in Vermont. So I stood up and told this story about how my mom was an adult orphan and only had one cousin. Everyone felt bad for me because I was the kid without grandparents or aunts and uncles. Now I don’t kno
w if I really do have grandparents. My dad has his sister and other family members, but his parents died when I was in high school.
“Um, hi I’m here to pick up my dad,” I say to the nurse behind the nurse station. She buzzes me through to the psych ward and I walk back to the doctor’s office to be debriefed on my dad’s status.
The psychiatrist and my father are sitting in his office and talking. “Holland, good to see you again. I’m just talking to your dad about his ongoing therapy,” he says. The doctor must smoke cigarettes, because that’s all I smell as I sit down in front of his desk next to my dad.
Good to see me again? What the hell? Yeah, I’m not glad to see him, so I just smile with my lips closed.
“I’ve changed some of your father’s medications and preliminary, we’re seeing good results. Xonify is fairly new to the market, it’s been available for the last two years. I’ve found it works both fast and well. Patients don’t build a tolerance to it, so it continues to work after long term use. It is a mood stabilizer and will help him from having the extreme lows and manic episodes. If he talks about suicide, discontinue the medicine and contact me immediately. Since I’m the prescribing doctor, he will continue his sessions with me.” He writes something down in his little book and looks back up at me.
“Sounds like a commercial. Are there any other side effects?” My body tenses as I talk to him.
“There are a few, I’ve included the literature in your packet for home. I’ve also put him on Lytritrol, it’s an antidepressant and works well with Xonify. He says he has trouble sleeping and staying asleep, Lytritrol will help him sleep.”
Yeah, he needs to sleep more. I’m annoyed and ready to leave. What about me? Is there a magic pill that makes my life perfect? Is he taking away my barely functional father and replacing him with an asset to society? Will he do more than play with plants? I knew a girl who was bi-polar, she went to school every day and is going to college now. So I drew the crap-straw of luck and now I’m wallowing in my own misery of defiance.
“…and I’ll see him back on Friday. He’s going to video chat with me for fifteen minutes each day at nine in the morning. Do you have any questions for me?”
“Nope, seems like you covered it all,” I say. “Dad, we’ll stop for lunch on our way home. Do I need to pick up any prescriptions?”
“No, I have a bag of pills for you. In the packet there’s a list of the medicines and what time I should take them. Bye doctor, I’ll see you on Friday. Thank you for helping me,” says my normal sounding father.
I take the packet and walk with my dad to the elevator. Since the floor for the psych ward is only for psych patients, people on the elevator look at you like they’re trying to figure out your brand of crazy. We stand in silence with the rest of the non-crazy people and wait for the ground floor light to flash.
“It’s a beautiful day!” Dad exclaims when we get outside. “I hope you’ve watered my plants. What have you been doing?”
“We’ll talk about it over lunch. Yes, I watered the plants. Do you have a preference for food?”
“A sub sounds good, how about you?”
“Subs are fine.” We sit in silence as I dodge the afternoon traffic on Northwest Expressway. There’s three lanes and they’re always loaded with traffic and every business you can imagine jammed on one road. During rush hour, it can take you thirty minutes to go three miles. Never mind getting anywhere quickly if there’s a car accident. “I’m going to go down Meridian, this traffic is too busy.”
“Okay Holly, whatever is more convenient.”
Who is he? My phone beeps in my purse. I hope it’s a text from Tate. I’m scheduled to work the next three days so I want to see him tonight. I feel bad for getting so upset with him yesterday. It wasn’t fair of me to be so rude to him.
The Sub-Station is busy but they have a big dining area so there are still places for us to sit. As we stand in line, I take out my phone.
HEY BEAUTIFUL. WILL YOU GO TO DINNER WITH ME TONIGHT? I HAVE A TASTE FOR STRAWBERRY LIPGLOSS. 12:07 pm
I smile to myself before answering him.
DINNER SOUNDS GOOD. I DON’T HAVE STRAWBERRY LIPGLOSS. MUST BE OTHER GIRLFRIEND. 12:11 pm
OH YEAH. YOURS IS CHERRY. CAN I PICK YOU UP? 12:11 pm
HA HA 12:12 pm
I MISS YOUR SMILE. YOU HAVE A GREAT ASS. 12:13 pm
I blush from his text.
I WILL MEET YOU AT WAFFLE SHACK ON SOONER ROAD. YOUR ASS IS NICE TOO! 12:13 pm
YOU VIXEN! 12:14 pm
HA! HA! 12:15 pm
Dad orders us both a turkey and avocado sub with extra mayo on his. I go over to the register and pay, leaving him to stand and wait for our food.
I find us a table in the corner away from everyone. I’m trying to be mad at him, but he’s being so nice and normal, I accept the little things like a good day.
I’m still unwrapping my sub when my dad breaks the silence. “Holly, I’m sorry. I don’t know what was wrong with me, it was so overwhelming to think of you dating and I couldn’t take it anymore. I can’t explain how my head works, I wish I could. It would be a lie if I said I wouldn’t have killed myself. The truth is, I’m glad Laney called the ambulance. Today is a normal day and all of that sounds like someone else’s life. This new medication works immediately instead of three to four weeks. Let me say this, if anything ever does happen and I succeed at offing myself, it isn’t your fault in any way. It’s hard to explain, but I’ll try. In my head everything is normal, but everyone else acts as though I’m the abnormal one. Once I’ve reached that level of irrational reactions, there isn’t much anyone can do for me. When I was younger, they would try to talk me down from my superior post, but that didn’t work either. The mental hospital gives me a sedative to calm me down. I love you too much Holly. It isn’t healthy depending on someone to be there forever. You’re a woman and you’re old enough to make your own decisions. Even if that means the guy you decide to date. I don’t want any more secrets between us.” He picks off a tomato and bites into it as he waits for my reply.
This is a trick, my real dad is in there waiting to appear when I let my guard down. “I don’t want secrets either. You ruined me the other day with your whole bit about my mom. How selfish! We’re going to sit down and have a serious conversation about her. This isn’t the right time.”
“You’re right, it was selfish, and we’ll talk later, whenever you’re ready. Tell me about him, your boyfriend, I guess that’s your good news.” He takes a sip of his sweet tea and leans back.
I take a deep breath and contemplate what to tell him. “I’m going to tell you my good news first. The other night I was at a club and I got up and sang. It wasn’t karaoke, it was real singing, no words on a screen. The owner of the club and a talent scout were there to hear us sing. They offered a singing deal. Before you panic, it’s a singing deal for night clubs. I will go to clubs and sing, they’ll all be in Oklahoma and when I get comfortable with the situation, I’ll do clubs in Dallas.”
“You say it like you’ve already signed up.”
“I haven’t signed yet, but I will if they approve the addendum. I have an attorney who handles entertainment contracts. There’s more, my,” I pause as I debate finishing my sentence, “boyfriend, Tate, is part of the contract. Before you say anything, let me tell you about him and about singing, because the contract is for us to sing together as a duet. Give me the courtesy to get my story out before saying anything.” Dad nods his head but I can tell he wants to say something. “I met Tate when he was singing at a club, actually a bookstore and we clicked. I can’t explain the feeling, but it was as if we became best friends the minute we started talking to each other. I didn’t find out he was in the military until our first date. He isn’t like other guys his age, he’s smart and has his shit together. He grew up on a farm in Oregon, he has a good heart and he’s a perfect gentleman.” This is my sales pitch to a man who just got out of a mental lock-up who went in because of Tate being
military. Dad sits there looking at me, not saying a word. Finally, he nods his head up and down.
“I’m going to be honest with you and say that I think you’re in over your head when it comes to signing a contract. How many times have you sang with this Tate guy?”
“This Tate guy and I have sang publically the one time. On our dates, he plays the guitar and we sing together.” Even to my own ears it sounds crazy that the first time I sing in public, I’m offered a deal. “The guy who offered us the contract was there to hear Tate sing. I didn’t know he was there or I wouldn’t have gone on the stage. It was Tate’s birthday Saturday. I sang him a song that the lyrics expressed how I feel about him. He is nothing like the guy you say my mom was married to, he’s a good guy. Actually, he’s a great guy. The lawyer was one Tate found and he knows entertainment contracts. It isn’t as though we’re signing to be the next Blake and Miranda, we’re singing in night clubs not arenas.”
“Are they going to pay you or are you doing it for free? You have a big heart honey and I know you wouldn’t demand money from someone.” He takes a huge bite of his sub and stares at me as he chews his food.
He called me honey, he would always tuck me in at night and say “good-night honey.” “Yes, we’re getting paid. I will get five-hundred dollars per night and he will get the same. Our addendum deals with the fact that his job in the military is priority. Tate’s an air traffic controller. He’s just turned twenty-two and he stays away from the other military guys in his dorms because they’re too rowdy. He wants to meet you, I’ve met his grandmother, when she flew in from Oregon for his birthday. As a matter of fact, she was there the night we sang. Give him a chance for me, please.” In a blink of an eye, I went from caregiver to daughter looking for acceptance.
“For you, yes, I’ll meet him. We should go to dinner so I can size him up and decide if he’s good enough for my one and only daughter. I’d die for you, Holly. Set up the time and place and I’ll go.”
Those pills are like a miracle drug! Who is this man? He’s not my dad, an alien abducted him and gave me Mr. Normal. “Really? Okay, I’ll set something up. I work all week, but I’m off this weekend. This doesn’t mean I’m not upset with you, because I am. We’ll talk later.”