“What do you mean?” When I remembered who I was bluffing for, I nearly giggled.
“The tears. Boyfriend troubles, baby girl? Becca told me you’re seeing someone.”
“I don’t really want to talk about my sex life with you, Mom. No offense.”
She studied her scuffed cowboy boots, and I considered it a small victory.
“Why are you really here, Mom?” Now that we were done with the social niceties segment of her visit (where I pretend to believe her motives and she pretended we had a relationship), it was time to deal with whatever trouble she’d dragged along with her. Hopefully my apartment wouldn’t be raided by the cops before she hit the road.
“Why do I have to want anything to see my daughter?” She actually had the cojones to look offended.
“Because past trends indicate that you want money. I’m a student. I don’t have any money.”
“When was the last time I asked you for money? It’s been years. When are you gonna let it go? I just wanted to stop by and talk. Is it so terrible that I want to see my child?”
“It’s too late, Mom.” I shook my head. “Some things you just can’t undo.”
“Talk to me…”She tried to reach out for my hand, and I shrank from her.
“I wanted to talk about it then, Mom! I wanted you to put a stop to it! You were supposed to take my side!”
“I know.” She started to tear up, but even her tears-- especially her tears—couldn’t be trusted.
“You know what happened the one time I told Travis ‘no’? He came to my room an hour later and did it anyway. He put his fucking hand over my mouth to keep me quiet, and he said he wouldn’t have to ‘do it’ to me if my mother would just put out.” I spat this bitter truth at her as if it could transfer the diseased part of my psyche. But there was no getting rid of what he’d done. No cure. I had an epiphany then. I had to heal myself. I would never be good as new, but I could stitch the jagged bits of my heart together, and it would beat again. And I was capable of love.
My phone rang, and when I scooped it up a second time, I saw it was Dale. I stood up to take the call. I walked into the living room and answered. “What’s up?”
“Thank God you picked up!” Dale replied. “Jayse is in the E.R. I’m a block away. Can I pick you up?”
“Yes!” I sputtered. “What the hell happened?”
“I don’t know. I’ve heard a bunch of rumors. It’s like a game of Queer Eye Telephone.”
“I’ll be out front.” I hit end call and turned to Harlow, who was pouring more schnapps into a plastic cup. “I have to go. My roommate’s in the E.R. You can stay here tonight, but then I want you gone in the morning. I’m trying to make something of myself, and I don’t have time to participate in whatever game you’re playing.”
She opened her mouth, but I was out of the door before she had a chance to tell anymore tall-tales. Dale pulled up like a Hollywood stunt driver, and I jumped in beside him. It’d still be hours before I realized my mistake. I’d left my purse behind.
I downed my second glass of champagne as I looked up at the grandiose painting of Annie which dominated the gallery’s mezzanine. Art critics and collectors swarmed all around me for a look at all of Trip’s latest creations, but most were stunned silent at the sight of Angel, which is what my brother chose to name the portrait. He’d had many offers, but he’d declined each one. That painting was already spoken for.
I’d kept my problems to myself, not wishing to distract Trip from his admiring public. Reeling from Annabelle’s reaction to my investigation, I didn’t want to put on a false smile. I’d convinced myself that what I was doing was from an altruistic place…taking a pedophile off the streets. In truth, I’d done it for revenge. I was a decade too late to save Annie, and feeling helpless, I’d reverted to vengeance. If I stayed this course, I would undoubtedly turn into my father.
“She’s a beauty.” My mother’s voice pulled me away from my obsession.
I nodded mutely.
“Samson, I loved your father.”
“Mama…I don’t want to talk about Sebastian Wakefield.”
“I was talking about Reginald. Sebastian isn’t your father.” Perhaps it was one too many blows in such a short period, but I was stunned silent. She turned a discerning eye on Angel, tilting her head to the side.
I finally recovered. “But…he…I don’t understand.”
“I had a moment of weakness once and told him in a letter once that my son was his. Sebastian assumed it was you.”
“Trip’s his son?” I glanced hurriedly around to make sure no one had heard me.
She nodded. “They’re both better off not knowing that, wouldn’t you agree?”
That was the moment I fully appreciated Trip’s situation. When a lie of omission seemed like the best possible decision. And I couldn’t fault Cosmo’s logic, not even a little.
“I did love Reginald. He was a wonderful person. A darling man with the sweetest heart. He would have done anything I asked. But Sebastian was…dangerous. Exhilarating. And I found that irresistible. I made a bad choice that lasted for years. What he said to Reg…” She shook her head with an ugly frown. “It’s unforgiveable. That man was always jealous of your father. If I’d known…I don’t know, maybe it would have been worse had I known. But your father loved both of you boys. As do I.”
I heard genuine emotion in my mother’s voice and regretted not confronting her privately. My ego and temper had gone on a massive bender. My hangover was sure to be an epic one.
“There you are.” Trip looked freaked out and out of breath as he skidded to a stop beside us. “Look at this. Annabelle just forwarded it to me.”
I took his phone from him and played the video. Some amateur footage of Dashul Stein started to play. Violet, Jayse, and Savannah’s most buxom drag queen all played a role. I felt Mama watching over my shoulder. When it ended, her eyes sparkled with excitement.
“Looks like you won’t have to move to Charleston after all,” she mused, as I passed his phone back to him. Trip actually managed a smile. He turned to me.
“They’re at St. Joseph’s/Cadler. Annie says Vi’s there and they’re still waiting for information. I’m heading over there.”
“You two go on. I’ll stay and handle all of this.” Mama offered.
I followed Trip through the crowd in a daze. It took a while; since he was the guest of honor, even sneaking out the back entrance wasn’t easy. All the while, my mind sifted through the new information sluggishly, as if I were snowshoeing through wet sand. My first instinct was to call Annabelle. But I’d demolished us just as swiftly as we’d gotten together.
We cut out the fire escape exit like a couple of criminals and scaled down the back side of the warehouse into the alley. Moments later we were in the Mercedes and zipping toward the interstate.
“I sure hope you’re okay to drive. We’ll be fucked if you get a DWI,” Trip admonished as I cut between two cars.
“I’m fine,” I snapped. I planned to beg Annie for forgiveness. Sex wasn’t the only part of our relationship she ought to have control of. Her trauma was hers to handle. She’d been strong for years before I came along, and I needed to shut up and remember to have her back. My desire to be her champion made me overzealous, and if this resulted in my losing her, it’d be the end of me.
When we finally walked through the entrance, Dale, Violet and Annie were all curled up in chairs. Violet jumped to her feet and threw herself at Trip. They kissed like he was going off to war, oblivious to the rest of our collective existence. Dale and I exchanged awkward waves, and the moment was even more awkward due to Annabelle’s inability or unwillingness to look at me.
“Have you heard anything?” I asked, directing the question to Dale, as he was the least likely to claw my eyes out.
“They took him in for a head CT. He was hit in the face, and when he fell, his head ricocheted off the sidewalk. He never lost consciousness, so it’s just a precaution,”
Dale explained.
Taking a chance, I took the seat next to Annabelle. She looked pale, and her makeup had been washed away.
“I’m hoping it knocked some sense into him,” she mumbled. Dale nodded, but I saw fear on both of their faces.
“The silver lining to the black cloud.” I took her speech as a good sign and hoped to keep her talking.
The physician approached before anyone else had a chance to speak. Jayse had a concussion and needed to stay overnight. He was doped up on morphine and singing show tunes. In other words, his outlook was promising, and he was expected to make a swift and full recovery.
On our way out of the hospital, I stopped Annabelle on her way to Dale’s car.
“Can I give you a ride home?” I asked. She looked up at me and nodded reluctantly. We drove in silence for several minutes as I thought of ways to open a dialogue. Finally, I decided the best way to tell her how I felt was to show her. I turned right instead of left, and she shot me a glance.
“My apartment’s that way.” Her words had a soft lilt.
“I need you to see something.” I glanced at her to read her face.
She sighed. “I’m tired, Sam.”
“It’ll take ten minutes,” I promised and drove through the back streets until we pulled up in front of The Beaumont Building. It was the length of a city block. Though it was originally constructed in 1910, I’d gutted it, and construction was finally finished. Some of the lights were on.
“I don’t understand.” She frowned at the sign with my last name on it. I took her by the hand, and we walked through the front door. There was a brand-new, full-court gymnasium on the right just visible by the security lights, and to the left was a full blown gym. Randall was fiddling with the speed bags when we walked in.
“Look who decided to come into work today.” He called from across the large room. Annabelle waved to him, but she wore a look of unmistakable shock.
“What is this, Sam?” She met my eyes. She no longer looked the least bit sleepy.
“My passion. You challenged me to do something with my money to change the world. I started a foundation. This youth center is a part of it. When I needed a place to be, to focus and stay out of trouble, Hard Knocks was what worked for me. I wanted to give that back to the community.” I led her back out and up the stairs to the second floor dance studio and showed her the computer lab. When we got to the meeting rooms, I flipped the lights on.
“Trip suggested a place for support groups. As he pointed out, it’s not just the kids who need to stay out of trouble.”
“Sam…I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything, Dahlin’. Just listen.” I leaned against the desk and wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her close. She didn’t protest; she just watched me shyly from under her lashes. “You’re the one. You push me. You said life was a pie with four quarters. You have heaping helpings of the direction and ambition, and I lucked out and inherited the genes and the money. Together we’re unstoppable.”
A tear slipped out of her eyes and raced down her cheek. I took her face in my hands and locked eyes with her for emphasis.
“Sam…I’m afraid.” She admitted.
“Me too. Annie, I know I fucked up. All I can say is how sorry I am. And I’m sure I’ll screw up again and again. But I can’t let fear stop me before I’ve even begun. And neither should you. The day we met, you said something about my lack of ambition. That it wasn’t a disease. I agree, but I think it can be crippling just the same. You’re my light, Annabelle. You led me off of a dark path, and I’m asking you to continue the journey with me.”
She searched me with those gold-flecked eyes of hers, and just when I was sure she’d pull away, she rose onto her tiptoes and captured my lips with hers. Her hands gripped my hair, and I felt my chest swell so much it hurt. When she finally pulled away, her cheeks were flushed pink, and she was glowing.
“I’m all in.” She panted, happiness shining in her eyes. “Let’s do this.”
As we descended the stairs, we stopped dead in out tracks when we heard Randall singing along with a Pitbull song. After falling into fits of laughter and throwing a few insults his way, we stumbled out into the night. I stopped her right outside the front door.
“So can I take you to Paris?” I whispered in her ear as I nuzzled her neck
The corner of her lip curled in a fiendish manner. “You’d better!”
I bailed Annie’s mom out the following morning. While she and I were busy making out at the Beaumont Building, Harlow had been trying to break into the pharmacy using Annabelle’s keys. She got caught just minutes after we discovered Annabelle’s purse was missing. Harlow may play a mean black jack, but that woman is no master thief.
With Trip and his sponsor’s assistance, we found her a good rehab program and an even better lawyer. She agreed to go to treatment in lieu of jail time; Harlow was many unspeakable things, but she was no fool. Annie told her to keep her distance and lose her address. She was finally done, and Dr. Wilson wholeheartedly supported this course of action.
Annie’s grandparents already had custody of Dylan and Becca, and their mother’s absence didn’t seem to be a new phenomenon. Annie called them regularly to keep up to speed on their lives. Dylan would graduate soon and was considering coming to Georgia for school. Annie cried when she heard both the kids were in therapy, but she assured me the tears were happy ones.
Paris was an amazing time. We ate baguettes at street cafes, made fun of snooty Parisian assholes, and left flowers at Jim Morrison’s grave. The Catacombs were beyond amazing. We wandered around wearing out our cameras, and I honestly think I was more impressed with them than she was.
On our third day in Paris, I dragged her shopping and insisted she buy a cocktail dress. Then I took her to 58 Tour Eiffel, the restaurant at the Eiffel Tower. In an admittedly douchey move that I was sure she’d hate, I’d slipped an engagement ring into her glass of champagne. To my surprise, she burst into tears and pummeled my chest with her fists. Then she squealed “Yes! Yes! Yes!” just like a normal girl. She never ceases to amaze. Evidently, even the French applaud when a girl accepts a proposal in such a manner.
Trip and Violet quietly started seeing one another again. Maisie began telling everyone her parents were getting remarried and she was going to be their flower girl. Trip and Vi just laughed at her and gently chided her to slow it down. They assured anyone who would listen that they were in no rush to the altar. Violet told Annie they wanted to take their time this go-round and really savor one another.
Patience got all huffy at Black Keys during our engagement party. We were too wrapped up in each other to notice a thing, but you can bet Jayse was right in the thick of things. Pending nuptials were exploding all around Patience—two of her co-workers were also getting married—and she was sick and tired of being a bridesmaid. She gave Randall an ultimatum, and he finally caved and set a date. They’re getting hitched in June, and we’re walking down the aisle in October.
Annabelle plans to start a program at the foundation when she finishes school. She sees a community need for medication deliveries and pill box assistance for the elderly. The pharmacy schools seemed excited for their students to intern in the program. Her professors have been generous with advice in starting such an ambitious program. It’s uplifting to know that I have the tools to help so many people touch so many lives. I think if Daddy’s looking down at us, he’s smilin’.
All lollipops and glitter aside, things aren’t always perfect. I wouldn’t say we’ve found ourselves engulfed in a fairy tale. Sometimes I catch Annie staring at her ring when she doesn’t know I’m watching. She’ll be sunning herself on the balcony or lying in bed with a book, and I’ll watch those stunning eyes of hers reflecting on the sparkling rock. Sometimes, she’s smiling. Other, more frightening times, she wears the blankest look I’ve ever seen.
Will we make it? I don’t have any idea. Are we happy? I think that we are
, more than most. We know we’re lucky to have found each other, and we aren’t likely to let each other forget it anytime soon. I like to think we both saved each other from a life of just going through the motions. I plan to spend every day of my life showing her what she means to me. Will I be successful? Who the hell knows? I want to be. All I know is what my heart tells me. And my heart speaks clearly. It tells me-in no uncertain terms that Annabelle Clarke is my Angel.
Without a doubt, this is the hardest project I’ve ever undertaken. It’s a fiction/fact fusion, though which is which, I’ll never tell. Laughs were had, flesh was inked, books were burned, tears were shed, and some cocktails may have been harmed in the making of this book. A few folks need to be acknowledged for playing their roles.
Les Pace–my oldest critique partner and long suffering spouse. Oh, how none of this would have been possible without all you do every day. You are my rock and though it isn’t at all fair, it doesn’t make me any less grateful. I love you beyond description, wordsmith or not.
Robin Harper–who has been with this project since it was nothing more than a title and a cover. You gave a stunning face to my story. Your patience and talent take my breath away-designing and redesigning covers and memes and making every attempt to make me look like a much bigger deal than I am. You are too good to me and worth a hell of a lot more than you charge. Wicked by Design, people. She really knows her shit.
Jay McAtee –One of my oldest and dearest friends. Our adventures together date back to before I was of legal drinking age, and are the stuff of legend. Greek tragedies, mostly. You are the keeper of all of my secrets. I hope you smile when you read this book. Thanks for reading and re-reading and helping me breathe life into one of my all-time favorite characters.
Heather Halloran–What can I possibly say? You know you’re my girl, right? We’ve been through so much in a short period that it seems like I’ve known you as long as I’ve known Jay. Every day I wish we lived in the same city, hell…the same state would be nice. Thank you and fuck you for planting more than a few of the seeds that ended up growing into this book.
Crazy Love Page 24