by Rye Hart
“Or maybe it's the half-price appetizers they're serving at the bar,” I said. Landon was the optimist, while I was the realist.
“Maybe, but I'll take it.”
The band that was on had just finished their set and were leaving the stage. We exchanged greetings as Landon and I hit the stage, and I felt that old familiar energy filling me up.
“Showtime,” I said.
Landon handed me a beer from the cooler he'd brought along, but I shook my head. I might have the jitters before going on, but with my wife and baby girl in the audience, I wanted to be my best. I didn't want my senses or energy dulled in the least.
“No thanks, man,” I said.
“Suit yourself,” he said.
He downed the beer in one, big gulp and then let out a loud belch. The crowd was buzzing as I stepped up onto the stage, I eyed the audience but didn't see Shannon anywhere. Our friends were already in the crowd.
I did ask Shannon not to worry about arriving early. Probably in the parking lot now. We finished setting up, and still, she wasn't there. No biggie, she'd get there when she could.
Landon started on them drums, and I played a few chords on the guitar, tapping my foot along with the beat. It wasn't the new song I wrote for Shannon and Ava – that was coming later. I sang an old favorite, the words rolling out over the crowd as people started dancing anywhere they could stand. A few were even singing along with me. If I didn't know better, I thought that maybe Landon was right. Maybe these fine folks were here to see us. Hot damn.
As I played a solo on my guitar, I heard busty redhead call out my name, “Drake! Marry me!”
Her boobs were hanging out of her tiny little crop top, and she wiggled them in my direction. I shook my head, thinking Shannon would be amused if she saw. I strode over to the side of the stage where an older woman was standing, dancing by herself, and reached for her hand. She looked surprised but let me pull her up on stage. With gray hair and Amish-style dress, she looked like she could be someone's granny, but she sure as hell smiled when she was on stage with me.
I wanted to make this sweet little grandma's day.
I sung to her, and together we danced. She shook her butt, and the audience laughed, clapping and cheering wildly. When I held the mic out to her, she sang along, not stumbling over a single word.
Damn. It felt nice to touch people with my music.
I helped her down and continued on my way. The busty redhead had pushed her way up to the stage, reaching her hand out for mine. I knelt down as I started the next song, giving her hand a squeeze and a shake. She held on tight, pulling me closer to her and handed me a slip of paper. Her eyes sparkled, and she smiled wide.
“Call me, handsome,” she said.
I laughed, even in the middle of a verse, and tucked the number away in my pocket. I'd toss it later. Shannon would be amused. Hell, even if she were the jealous type – she had nothing to be afraid of. She was the finest woman I'd ever laid eyes on, and I was married to her. There was no way a busty red head would lure me away from my wife, no matter how much she shook her tits.
Landon had a cocky ass smirk on his face – he was probably jealous. He had nothing to worry about. He was single and could hook up with all the girls he wanted, but I'd be going back home with my wife.
Our set went pretty quickly, we were just one of five bands performing tonight.
“Thank ya'll for coming out tonight!” I said, waving at the crowd and flashing them a smile. “Hope you enjoyed the show. We'll be playing at Whisky River Bar and Grill next Friday night. Come and check us out.”
The crowd applauded, and I took one final look around the place. No sign of Shannon. My heart raced a bit, and a cold feeling of dread came over me. It was a quick set, she was probably running late. She'd be here, and we could watch the last few bands together.
Landon and I finished packing everything, and I reached for my phone.
Fifteen missed calls.
A sickening sensation hit me in the pit of my stomach.
All from mom. She'd texted me several times as well. She'd obviously been trying to get through to me. As I opened the texts up, my heart was no longer racing, it stopped beating entirely.
Mom: Drake, call me. Something has happened.
Mom: Drake, this is serious. You need to call me, now.
Finally, one last text, sent only two minutes before I picked up my phone.
Mom: There's been an accident. Shannon and Ava are in the hospital, it's bad. Get here now!
The world around me no longer felt real. Landon walked up behind me, took one look at me and his eyes flashed concern.
“Dude, what's wrong?” he asked.
“I need to go,” I said, though the words didn't seem to be coming from me. “There's been an accident.”
“Everything okay?” Landon asked.
“I dunno. Shannon and Ava... Oh God,” I said.
My knees turned to rubber, and I almost fell but managed to hold onto the wall for support. My baby girl and my wife, my whole world.
It’s bad. Those two words from my mom echoed around my mind, drowning me a little more with each passing moment.
“Come on, let me drive you,” he said.
I couldn't argue. I couldn't even breathe. The world was suffocating me, literally. I felt a heavy weight was on my chest, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't take a breath. There was no way I could drive.
The ride over to the hospital had been a blur. Landon dropped me off at the emergency room door to go find parking. My legs were like jelly, and I stumbled into the hospital, holding on to everything I could for support. I was swerving around so much, I probably looked drunk. A nurse at the counter looked up at me and smiled politely. I remembered thinking that she had a nice smile. Why in the hell had I thought that?
“What can I help you with?” she asked.
Her name tag said, Tina.
“Tina, I was told my wife and daughter had been in an accident,” I said.
Her smile wavered as if she knew exactly who I was talking about. A voice called to me from down the hall.
“Drake.”
It was my mom. When she saw me, she burst into tears. I refused to give into my emotions. Everything was fine. My girls were fine.
“Oh sweetie,” mom said, burying her head in my shoulder. “I'm sorry.”
“Sorry for what, Mom?” I asked.
I didn't ask if they were alive or okay because they had to be. They just had to be. I just needed to know what happened so I could start processing it all and figuring out how we were going to move forward. Together. As a family.
“We're not sure yet, but it looks like they were hit by a drunk driver,” she said. “Driver died on impact and Shannon... ”
Her voice trailed off, her words turning to sobs.
“Shannon?” I asked. “Can I see her?”
Mom shook her head. “Shannon didn't make it, sweetie.”
The room went dark.
I couldn't remember what happened after that, or how I ended up being held up by Landon. My world went black, and my vision wavered badly. Landon had ahold of my shoulders when I came to, and I could hear my mom's sobs echoing through the waiting room. Tina, the nurse with the nice smile, came over to us and offered to show us to the chapel, to give us a little privacy.
“No,” I said, my voice barely a croak. “I need to see my baby girl.”
Tina's eyes looked pained, and she was the one who had to give me the news.
“Your daughter is in critical condition, Mr. Blackthorn,” she said.
“But she's alive? I need to see her, please,” I said.
“I'll talk to the doctor,” she said. “Just give me a second.”
My cheeks were wet, but I don't remember crying. Watching Tina walk over to her desk and pick up the phone, everything seemed to slow down. Maybe this was a dream, I thought. A nightmare. I'd wake up, and it would all be over.
Please, God, let that be true.
Nothing felt real, so I convinced myself I'd wake up sooner or later. I'd wake up beside my beautiful wife and daughter.
I swallowed the lump in my throat as Landon helped me get to my feet.
My head was throbbing. That's when I realized it couldn't be a dream.
Shannon was gone. The realization of it sucked the air from my lungs.
Please, let my little girl make it.
Tina came back to us, her voice thick with emotion and her face solemn as she said to me, “The doctor said you can see her, but that you need to be prepared for the worst.”
“The worst?” I croaked.
Thinking back on her words, in my head, I knew what she meant, but in that moment, it was like she was speaking another language.
“What's that supposed to mean?” I asked.
Tina didn't answer. Instead, she said, “I'll let you talk to the doctor after you visit with Ava,” she said.
She took my arm and led me away from Landon and my mother, escorting me down a long hallway. We walked for what felt like an eternity until she stopped outside of a room with the door cracked open. Inside, were the beeps and buzzing of what looked like a hundred machines. There was so much noise coming from the room.
Ava's blonde head rested against a white pillow. If it hadn't been for the tubes running in and out of her, and the machines hooked up to her, she'd appear to be sleeping. She looked almost peaceful, even. Too peaceful. My throat closed up, and my breath caught in my throat as I stepped closer and saw how pale she was. The top of her head was bandaged, her right eye bruised and blackened as if someone had punched her.
My face was wet from fresh tears. I watched them fall onto bed sheets that were startlingly white. Ava's tiny hand rested against her chest, so I picked it up, taking it in mine. Her entire hand fit into the palm of mine, and I squeezed it, hoping she'd know I was there.
I looked down at her hand. As I held onto it, I realized that something didn't feel right. I searched my brain, trying to figure it out, and it took me awhile to understand what it was.
Her skin was ice cold.
I ran a hand over her forehead, and she was cold to the touch. I pulled the blanket up higher, just like I would if we were home and she was cold. I'd be tucking her in by now most nights, after reading her a bedtime story or two. Her stuffed unicorn would be tucked under her chin. That stupid unicorn had taken a beating and was ragged and threadbare, but she loved it. She had to sleep with it every single night.
It didn't feel right that her unicorn wasn't here now. I'd have to remember to bring it with me.
Her chest rose and fell slowly, too slowly even for sleep. I stroked her hand and kissed her forehead.
“Be strong, Ava. Be strong for daddy, please?” I asked her, my tears wetting her soft skin. “I can't lose you, baby.”
My little girl had me and her momma in her, which meant that she was a fighter. She could fight her way through this.
She would.
She had to.
“I love you, Ava,” I whispered, stroking her hand.
As soon as I said those words, everything changed. Her chest stopped moving, and the machines behind us went crazy, making all kinds of noise. There was a loud beeping that went on and on and on, and doctors filled the room, pushing me aside.
“Are you the father?” one nurse asked me.
“Yes, I am,” I said, the yawning pit in my stomach threatening to swallow me whole. “What's going on?”
“Please, step out,” she said.
She took my arm and tried to guide me from the room. I pulled away from her grip and stayed put, staring at Ava as the doctors circled her like goddamn vultures circling a piece of carrion. The room was eerily quiet except for the beeping.
“What's going with my little girl?” I said.
“Please, Mr.--”
One of the doctors turned off the beeping machine and said quietly, “Time of death, nine-fifty-five pm.”
I pushed my way past the doctors and the nurses and stared down at Ava's sweet face. It was so still. So peaceful. She looked like a perfect little angel. I stared at her little upturned nose, a trait she got from Shannon, the freckles along her nose and cheeks. She wasn't dead, she couldn't be.
The nurse who'd tried to take me out of the room earlier, grabbed my arm, pulling me from the room as gently as she could.
In that very moment, my entire world fell apart.
***
Two and a half months after the funeral, Landon stopped by and found me sitting on my front porch. Empty bottles littered the steps beside me. He didn't say anything as he sat down. I just handed him a beer, and he took it.
“Listen, man, I'm so sorry – ”
“I wish everyone would stop with the sorry bullshit,” I said, drinking down the last of my current beer.
I reached for another one and popped open the top. I tossed the cap away, where it clattered on the porch, spinning and rolling. I took a long drink and stared down into the bottle like it held all of the secrets to life and the universe. Like it could teach me how to bring my wife and daughter back to me.
“I'm so tired of everyone apologizing to me,” I said. “It's not gonna bring them back. They’re dead. They’re both dead.
“I know,” Landon said quietly. “But you know Shannon wouldn't want you to live like this.”
I scowled at him. “It hasn’t even been three months! I have a right to grieve.”
“You do,” he said, sipping his beer. “But you also need to come to terms with it and make some decisions.”
I sighed, running a hand through my greasy hair. It had been far too long since I'd seen a shower, and I probably smelled rank. My diet consisted of beer and booze these days. I couldn't even recall the last time I'd had a real meal. Probably Shannon's meatloaf, the night she died.
“This about the band?”
“Not just the band, but everything,” he said. “The ranch. Your music. Your life. We're worried sick about you, man.”
“I'll be fine,” I said.
“Look I know I’m coming across as a dick by asking, but I need to know. Just give me something. Do you intend to keep playing music?” he asked, side-eyeing me. We have shows lined up still, Drake.”
“I know,” I said, taking a long pull from the bottle. “I'll be ready for them.”
“You will?” he asked, the surprise in his voice evident. “You're gonna keep playing and singing?”
I shrugged. “I have to. I need to pay for Elsie's care. I don’t want my Mom working night shift anymore.” I said. “And besides, music is how I deal with shit.”
Elsie was my one and only sibling. She had autism and needed specialized care to help her manage. My mother had been struggling to pay for her care over the years, but she was getting too old now. We’d also talked about arranging for Elsie to move in with me, now that I was living alone. She’d always loved growing in our dad’s farm. It brought the both of us peace to be here.
Landon nodded, looking pleased with that answer. “Glad to hear it,” he said. “I know your fans will be happy to see you back on stage too.”
“I'm not doing it for them.”
“What about the ranch?” he asked. “I can get my sister out here. She's a realtor you know.”
“I'm keeping it,” I said. “Shannon and Ava loved this place. And, Elsie is moving in with me so I can look after her. We need the space.”
“I'm glad you won't be alone,” Landon said.
Later that night, I sat down with my guitar and started writing a new song, one that had been playing in my head for days now. It wasn’t my usual up beat style. I let my pain come out through my words, the chords providing the backdrop, and let it all out.
Music was my therapy. Always had been. I knew it was going to be the only thing that kept me going.
If it hadn't been for Elsie, my sister, I might have done something stupid. I might have ended it right then to be with Ava and Shannon once again. I couldn'
t do that to my sister though, she needed me.
So instead of ending my life, I put all those feelings into my music.
CHAPTER 1
Drake
The stadium was filled with thousands upon thousands of screaming fans, all of them chanting my name as I stepped out onto the stage. No longer did I play the guitar, Stone handled that. I was the front man, the singer, the voice of the operation. Landon was still on drums, hammering out beats just like he had back before we were household names.