“Shit,” Rhett whispered. He stood up. “She’s got a good life. I don’t. She says she loves me. I don’t get it. She’s got a nice house. Her mom is nice. Her stepfather is a dick. But I get it. I’m a loser. I’m a poor kid with no future.”
I growled under my breath. I rubbed my jaw. “Ah, dammit. Look, Rhett, I’m not getting in the middle of family issues. Or legal issues. Unless I have to. The way I see it, she’s scared right now. She’s scared because she believes you would fight her stepfather. She’s scared because she loves her mother. Her house. Her life. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you.”
Carrie looked over at us. I stood up and nodded at her. She slowly walked toward us.
“Carrie,” Rhett said. “I…”
“You two listen to me,” I said. “Sit right here.”
I turned and walked to the counter. Stephanie had a tower of tin tea cans in front of her and added one more to the pile.
“Is this is a game for you?” I asked. “Seeing how many you can stack until they fall. You’re like a preschooler.”
“And what exactly are you?” Stephanie asked. “A therapist now?”
I grinned. “Not quite.”
“Are the cops going to come?”
“No,” I said. “Give me two coffees and something to eat.”
“They’re staying?”
“They’re paying customers. Anything else isn’t your business. Deal?”
“You help me carry these stupid tins to the back and it’s a deal.”
“Fine,” I said.
I put money on the counter as Stephanie got the two coffees and an array of sweet snacks. Nothing wrong with a little coffee and sugar on a rainy day.
I took everything to Rhett and Carrie as they sat on the stage, facing each other, holding hands.
Puppy dog love…
That was a dangerous thing though.
I put the coffee and food on the stage. “You two. Figure this out. Stay here. Talk. Laugh. Whatever you have to do. My advice? Carrie, get your butt back to school. You know this is only going to get worse if you’re cutting out because of Rhett. And, Rhett, man up and prove your worth to her stepfather.”
The two just stared at me. Slowly nodding.
“I have your hoodie,” Carrie said.
“Keep it,” I said. “Get warm and dry.” I reached into my pocket and took out some more cash. “Get a ride back to school. No walking.”
“Jesus, Foster,” Rhett said. “Why are you doing this?”
“I have no clue. Just don’t do anything stupid.”
I felt good with what I had said and done, which was what nobody ever did for me.
The truth though?
The last thing I said to them - just don’t do anything stupid.
I should have said that to myself.
11
Ring, Ring, Buzz, Buzz, No, No
Rose
I looked at the number in my phone. There was no name with the number, but I knew who it reached. That night outside the coffeehouse, after Foster played his set, his eyes all over me, his hands flirting to do the same, after I showed some serious self-control to ease away, my consolation prize was his number. He asked me for my number so he could text me. I had that text message open and just stared.
I knew I couldn’t taste the kiss anymore, but I kept licking my lips, hoping there was something left over. There wasn’t.
I had learned enough lessons when it came to Foster, which was why I walked away. No matter his size, how good he looked, the fact that he had captured the audience of people with his guitar and words, I had to fight him away. From the time he kissed me on my porch up until the other night, every time he swept into my life, he would cruise right back out. And it was always in style. Confessing something big to me. Or telling me something terrible about his father. Or possibly being involved with someone while still claiming to be in love with me. Forever leaving my feelings in the balance.
Jerk, much?
Yet I couldn’t stop looking at the number. I couldn’t stop wanting to text him. To call him. To meet up with him again and talk. Talking to Foster was so calming. For a guy that lived in what always seemed like a dangerous tornado, being near him was calm. We would get that calmness for only so long until it exploded.
The thing now though… we weren’t kids. We weren’t teenagers. We weren’t freshly able to buy a drink at a bar, thinking we owned the world. We were older than that. I had a life. I had a career. He had… the ability to survive.
I swallowed hard.
“You look lost,” Molly said as she stood at my open office door.
I quickly turned the screen off on my phone. “Just thinking. Way too much.”
“That’s a problem. Thinking leads to overthinking. Overthinking leads to missing the obvious. The obvious is always right in front of you.”
I smiled. “You should get that on a poster. Or maybe write a book with all your sayings. You could be a famous author. Pass out coffee on a book tour. Really cash in.”
“See,” Molly said. “This is why I love you, Rose. You’re a genius. Come for a walk.”
It was a pleasure to put my hands to the paperwork on my desk and stand up. I shook away a piece of paper that stuck to the palm of my hand. Yet another subtle reminder of what the idea of Foster did to me. Making my palms sweat just by looking at his number.
“I want you to try a new breakfast blend we’ve been working on,” Molly said. “Everyone seems to like it. But I value your opinion the most.”
“You want me to taste it so I can sell it.”
“Exactly.”
The office was bustling today. Bambi and Kelly were rushing around. We had a couple of interns thanks to connections Molly had at the local college. And our hired out team of graphic designers were there, working on a few things I wanted done to present to Molly. Sometimes, it was amazing to step back and breathe it all in. Not just the smell of the coffee either, but the idea that the company was growing.
When I sipped the new breakfast blend, it was very smooth, almost boring, but then came a little bitterness to the tongue. Just enough to remind me it was coffee.
“Smooth,” I said. “I like it.”
“So what happened when you went outside the other night?” Molly asked. She shut the door and locked it.
I put the small tasting coffee cup down. “You didn’t want me to taste this.”
“No. We’re selling it whether you like it or not.”
“Molly, it’s complicated.”
“Sure it is. Hot guy on the stage is playing songs written about you. You two disappear. You come back all flustered. We never saw him again.”
“I killed him and hid the body,” I said.
“I like that story, but what’s the truth?”
“There is no truth. Foster and I go way back. I didn’t plan on the songs getting to me the way they did. That’s all.”
“You two… you know… in the past?” Molly raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” I said. “We had our moments.”
“Damn. I’m jealous. I love that rough grunge look on a man. Jeans that are ripped because they are worn out, not bought like that. Flannel sleeves rolled up, showing off muscular forearms. Tattoos… tell me he has tattoos…”
“He has tattoos.”
“Damn. How many?”
I smirked. “I’ll never tell, Molly.”
Molly fanned herself. “You should be on top of that. I mean that. Literally.”
I laughed. “It’s not that simple.”
“Yes it is. There’s a guy. There’s a girl. There’s a spark. Then they fu-”
“Can we get back to work?” I asked.
“Yeah. Sure. Work. How’s the breakfast blend?”
“I said it was good.”
“Good,” Molly said. “I’d like to offer it up in the next few months. So find a way to sell it. Lots of it. Pretend your job depends on it.”
“Does my job depend on it?�
�
“No,” Molly said with a snort.
“That’s good,” I said. “Because you can’t afford…”
My phone started to ring and buzz. My mind instantly changed gears to Foster. I scrambled for my phone in an obvious fumbling, foolish way, like a giggling high school girl because her crush was calling her.
It wasn’t Foster calling me.
It was my sister, Vivian.
When I answered the phone - she was crying.
“I have to go,” I said as I ran toward the door.
“What’s wrong?” Molly asked.
“My father,” I said. “He’s been rushed to the ER. He collapsed at work. His heart…”
My voice cracked.
I had held it together, listening to Vivian crying on the other end of the line.
I told her to stay put in the hair salon and breathe. I didn’t want her driving if she was in total hysterics… so I needed her to calm down first.
My hands were shaking as though I had sampled too much of the breakfast blend.
Molly hurried to open the door. “What can I do to help?”
I looked at her. “I… I just have to go. I have to get to the hospital.”
“I’ll go with you,” Molly said. “I’ll drive you.”
“No. I’m fine.”
I started to run through the large, open office. The voices were a muffled chatter as my pulse throbbed inside my head. I didn’t know why they’d called Vivian instead of me. I was closer. But she was older. The guys at the garage probably used my father’s phone. He and Vivian were probably texting each other or something.
I got to my desk and couldn’t find my keys.
Precious seconds started to tick away. I couldn’t stop thinking about the obvious stuff. My father. His heart. Ambulance. Hospital. Not sure…
I slammed a hand to the desk and swiped away a bunch of papers. I hurried around to the other side and kicked my chair out of the way. I ripped open my drawer and found the keys. I grabbed them, and when I lifted my hand, I threw them into the air by accident. I dove forward and smashed my leg against the corner of the desk, a hot pain shooting through my leg. Next thing I knew, I was on the ground, on my hands and knees, my keys a foot away.
That’s when I started to cry.
A second later, a hand touched my back. “Rose, listen to me.” It was Molly. “I’m going to drive you to the hospital. I’m here. Come on, let me help you up and let’s get out of here.”
I looked at Molly. I felt like my chest was being sat on. I couldn’t help but shake. I hated the feeling, but couldn’t fight it off at the moment.
“Vivian,” I whispered. “I need to get her.”
“Where is she?”
“At the salon…”
“I’ll have Bambi or Kelly get her, okay?”
“Okay.”
I slowly stood up and let Molly lead the way. I clutched my phone and my keys tightly. At the last second, I tossed my keys behind my back to my desk. But I kept my phone close.
When I got into Molly’s car, I took a few deep breaths to ready myself. There was nobody I could call for help or for an update. I just needed to get to the hospital. Someone would bring Vivian to the hospital. She then texted me and said she was already driving. So that idea got scratched. I didn’t like her driving being so scared. I texted her back saying things were going to be okay. Which was a total lie. I wasn’t a fortune teller. I couldn’t predict the future.
Everything is going to be okay…
Someone had once whispered that into my ear. Right before he was forced to leave me again.
That’s what I wanted. No, it’s what I needed. I needed someone to comfort me. I needed someone to lie to me even. I needed someone to tell me it was going to be okay.
Yeah, I had Molly next to me. She could say all that to me. But it wouldn’t mean a thing.
I turned my head and felt my thumbs slide across the screen of my phone.
I knew who I wanted. I knew who I needed.
I knew my heart would get messed up again.
12
The Big Man, Down
Foster
I need you
It was three words, from Rose, but definitely not the three words that scared me the most. Sitting in the basement after a guitar lesson, I caught myself working on the song structure of Hey, Rose as though I was going to change it up. Rewrite it. Try and sell the song. Maybe.
The dream of standing on a big stage was gone, but I still had the chance to work with other musicians and write music with them and for them. Sometimes the pay was good, sometimes it wasn’t. If I got lucky enough, a song would hit big and I’d get a nice check every now and again.
I read the text message a few times before I started to respond.
Texting? That’s what I’m going to do here?
I called Rose instead. She wasn’t text worthy. She was call worthy. Plus, any chance to hear her voice was a subtle reminder that while my ears could hear any and all music, her voice was the soundtrack to the greatest memories of my wild life.
She answered right away and I never wanted to hear the way her voice sounded ever again in my life.
She managed to say a few messy sentences of jumbled words.
“My father… his heart… the hospital…”
I threw my guitar to the table and grabbed my flannel. I ran through the basement and up the stairs. I was out the door and jumping into my truck, no idea what was about to happen. I had no clue if Frank was going to live or die. Not to mention the fact that Rose called me to tell me about her father.
She came to me for help. She needed me to be by her side during a dark time.
Which meant a lot to me.
But I knew where this road was going to end up…
I wrestled with another wrinkled dollar bill and finally said fuck it and took the elevators down to the cafeteria. I stocked up on everything I could find, most of it being coffee. At least there I could pay with a damn credit card.
Frank had come really close to calling it a last day when he collapsed. I didn’t understand the medical stuff, and I wasn’t exactly allowed to stand there with the doctor as she spoke to Rose and Vivian. To break it down into simple terms - Frank had a clog somewhere near his heart and he needed to get it taken care of right away. Meaning emergency surgery so that nothing happened again. Because this time was not a warning, but a lucky strike.
Hell, the entire thing had me bothered. Frank had been more of a father figure to me than my own father. Frank threatened me with a rifle. He offered me a beer. He cooked me food when he knew I hadn’t eaten. No matter what happened between me and Rose, he loved his daughter, but respected me. He and I had conversations that had been deep, honest, and forever forged the path that my life had taken.
I walked the long and lonely hallway. It was just getting dark. Amazing how fast time flew by when things were a disaster. That horrible feeling of just waiting for any kind of news.
I turned the hallway and saw Vivian and Rose standing together, hugging each other, crying.
I stopped and shut my eyes. My heart sank.
Fuck.
The door at the end of the hall was slowly shutting.
The doctor had just been there, talking to them.
And I hadn’t been there with Rose while she got whatever news that was shared.
I saw Molly standing there too, her hand on Rose’s back. Vivian stood there, a few inches away, staring at the floor, biting on the nails of her left hand.
Vivian stood a couple inches taller than Rose, super thin, done up in a fancy way. That was just always her style. It made sense that she made her living in a hair salon. It fit her perfectly. Funny thing though was that she and Rose really didn’t look much alike. Maybe their nose and ears, but that was it. Vivian looked like Frank, but in a pretty and womanly way. Rose looked like her mother. I had only seen one picture, one time of her mother, and it was pretty striking how much they looked alike.
She grabbed the carrier with coffees and snacks. “Go to her, Foster. She wants you. Not me.”
“Is Frank…”
“Just go,” Molly said in a stern voice.
I charged down the hall and put a hand to Rose’s shoulder and a hand to Vivian’s. Vivian and I never really got close. She thought I was some dirty boy that wanted to steal her sister’s virginity. Which was true. Vivian had always been interested in the football players and the baseball players. Her demands were athletic and at least two years older than her. Which I’m sure gave Frank plenty to worry about.
That poor man.
He had to make sure Vivian wasn’t running around with college guys while worrying about whatever mess crept up in my life so that it didn’t hurt Rose.
No wonder his heart…
I shook my heart. “What's the word?”
Both sisters sucked in a breath at the same time.
“He’s out of surgery,” Rose said.
“Out? Meaning…”
“He made it,” Vivian said. She had black streaks of makeup on her cheeks. “He made it.”
“Shit,” I said with a sigh. “Good. Yes. Oh, Frank…”
I hung my head.
Rose put her hand to my side, her nails digging at me.
I blinked fast and caught my breath. “Hey. I got some coffees and food. Not real food, but better than nothing.”
“Thanks,” Vivian said. “I think I need to sit down.”
“Yeah, go ahead,” I said. “If I can get you anything…”
“Thanks, Foster,” Vivian said. “For being here.” She took a step and paused. “But why are you here? Are you two…” she looked between me and Rose. “… again?”
“No,” Rose said without hesitation.
Wow. Ouch.
“I mean, no,” Rose said. “I called him. We ran into each other last week. I…”
“I’m just here, Vivian,” I said. “Don’t look too much into it.”
“Right,” Vivian said. “I’ve heard that before.”
Let You Go: a heart-wrenching second chance romance story that will make you believe in true love Page 8