by Mj Fields
Out of the oner of my eye, I see men dressed in Navy uniforms standing back about a hundred yards. One of them starts walking toward me, and I try to pull it together.
He squats down, hands me a tissue, and puts his hand on my shoulder. “He was a good man. I’m sorry for your loss, Miss.”
He keeps his hand on my shoulder for a few moments then slowly stands and walks away.
I don’t look at him and am thankful for the black, large-brimmed hat I wore so he couldn’t see my face. It’s bad enough that people see me as I kneel in a dress on the ground, which Toby is buried beneath.
If he knew Toby, I’m sure he’s grieving, too.
I take handfuls of loose gravel and allow it to slip through my fingers as I wish the tears away. When they ebb, I stand, wipe my knees off, and then I walk to the car.
Once at home, I shower and change into pajamas. Opening the medicine cabinet, I grab a pill from the half full bottle still left from my field hockey injury, the ones I took at camp the day Lucas moved out. I swallow it down with water that I cupped in my hands then walk past my family.
“Good night. I love you all.”
Mom is still here and begins, “Tessa, do you—”
“Just need to sleep. Thank you. I’m fine. We’re all going through it. We’re strong. We’re Ross’s,” I say as I walk up the stairs then walk to my bed, flop down on it, and feel a cold, wet nose nudge me. I move over, and Chewy hops up.
Cuddling him, I fall asleep.
The next day at play practice, I made up an excuse about missing practice due to illness. I didn’t talk about what happened. No one there knew a lot about my private life, and I now want to keep it that way.
I hate the fact that I’m shielding us, but I truly feel like I doing so. I keep it as precious to me as it is … was.
“Hey, Tessa.” Jimmy, the pizza boy, smiles.
“Hey yourself, Jimmy.”
“A bunch of us are going back to my place. Very low key get together. If you want to come, feel free.”
“Sounds great.”
He looks stunned, “Cool. You can follow me.”
I laugh as I follow Jimmy to his house. It’s big, and the basement is like a recreation room, with a pool table, a few pinball machines, a projector screen, and a bar. Many of the cast drink, but I politely decline.
When I walk outside to escape the crowd for a moment, I find a bunch of girls smoking pot.
“Want some?” Cassidy, a girl in the play, asks.
I take a deep breath. “This will be a first for me, but sure.” I take the bowl and hit it twice. “Thanks,” I say, trying not to cough as I walk back inside.
The effect is immediate, and not like drinking. It’s as if a fog rolls over all the hidden pain.
There’s a karaoke machine and a bunch of them are singing.
“Come on.” Jimmy waves me over, so I do.
I sing and smile without forcing it, and I find myself completely focused on the moment. This one, and the music.
When my thoughts do drift to Toby, or Ann, or Lucas, or family, even though they are always there, the pain is always there. I still smile, my heart not so heavy. I feel the disconnect that I desperately work to achieve with zero effort.
Then Cassidy and I sing together, and laugh, and smoke more. I’m having a great time until Jimmy walks over and hands me his phone.
“Hey, girl, where are you? We’re at your house. Your dad and Alex went on a delivery, and we want to hang with you.”
“Jade.” I grin. “You know where I’m at, silly. You called here.”
“Yeah, no, I found the number on a note pad.”
“You sound unhappy. You should come here. Happiness lives here.”
“Are you fucking drunk?” she yells, and I pull the phone away from my ear.
Cassidy takes it. “This is Tessa Ross’s agent. She’s busy at this …” She stops, and her eyes grow huge. Then she rattles off the address and hangs up the phone.
We look at each other then bust up laughing.
“Girl, Jade is fucking piiiiissed.”
I laugh. “She’ll get over it.”
“I’m calling so much bullshit on you right now, so you better start talking or I’ll—”
“Jade,” Phoebe cuts her off, “I’m not thinking she cares right about now.”
“Turn up the tunes,” I hoot, and Phoebe does.
Jade, who’s driving the Jeep, reaches up to turn it down, and Phoebe growls as she smacks at her hand. I lose it.
Phoebe turns and looks at me, trying not to smile as she shakes her head.
I turn and wave to Becca, who is following us, and Jade snaps, “She cannot see you; it’s dark!”
“She eats a lot of carrots. Bugs Becca.” I laugh again as Jade pulls into a gas station.
“I need a damn slushie,” she says, throwing it in park.
I sigh. “Easy on the Jeep, dude.”
Jade whips around. “Did you just call me dude?”
I throw up a peace sign. “Sorry, Dudette.”
I look away from her and see Tommy and Lucas at the gas pump up. Then I lean forward and yell out the window, “Hey, boys, wuz up?”
Phoebe pulls me back in.
“Tommy, what the hell is wrong with her?” Jade asks as she slams the door behind her and rounds the Jeep.
“I don’t know, pretty girl. Lucas, go see what’s up with her,” Tommy says before kissing Jade.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Lucas says, putting the gas cap on then hanging the nozzle on the pump.
“Come on, Lucas. She isn’t drunk. I don’t know what’s wrong with her,” Jade pleads.
“Phoebe, please go kick Jade’s ass,” I say on a sigh.
To that, Phoebe laughs, and she laughs loudly.
Lucas walks over and opens the door. He then flips the seat forward, looks me dead in the eye, and in eerie calmness says, “Hello, Tessa. Jade wants to know what you’ve been doing.”
I lean away and grab my shades from the console before throwing them on, leaning back, and linking my fingers behind my neck. “Well, first, I went to rehearsal, then to Pizza Boy’s house.” I try and fail not to laugh.
Phoebe slides out of the passenger door.
“Traitor,” I snip at her.
“I want a slushie, too.” She smiles. “Want one?”
I nod. “Blue, please.”
Then I look back at Lucas and peer over my shades. “Then, well, I sang, and had fun, and danced, and I didn’t cry tonight.”
“That’s nice, Tessa, but what shit did you do? Did you drink, do pills, or smoke something?” Lucas demands.
“D. None of the above.” I laugh then whisper, “I shot up.”
When his face hardens, I realize that maybe I was out of line, like way out of line. I feel a tinge of guilt when he grabs my hand and pulls me toward him.
“Get out,” Lucas demands.
“Not happening.” I jerk my hand back.
He grabs me and all but drags me to his freaking SUV.
“Tommy, ride with Jade,” he says before I can get out and buckles my seat belt. Then he climbs over me, slides into the driver’s seat, and starts the vehicle, immediately peeling out of the gas station.
“Where does that little fuck live?” Lucas roars.
“Seriously, I’m not telling you. And, by the way, I think it was awfully nice of them to share with me.” I force a laugh and follow up with, “Notice I said … I think it was nice that they shared with me and not shared me?”
Lucas pulls a hard right and onto a dirt road. He throws the vehicle in park and grabs his phone. “The number. Now.”
“Fine. 8-6-7-5-3-0-9.”
When he stops hitting buttons and looks up, he’s pissed and scowling.
“Buzz kill,” I murmur.
I turn toward open the door, and he totally goes there.
“I can call Alex, and I will if you don’t give me the address to that party, Tessa!”
> “Listen, I didn’t shoot up, silly boy.” I tap him lightly on the face then grab his chin. “I smoked, and I like it. And I can guarantee I’ll do it again.”
“Don’t fucking lie to me, Tessa!”
“Lie? To you? Never, Lucas!” I laugh at his bullshit.
He is furious. “I’ve never lied to you!”
I look away and laugh. “Please take me back to my prison. Apparently, I don’t deserve to let loose once in a while. My friends suck.”
He punches the steering wheel three times then starts the vehicle.
I reach up and crank up the music. I sing, and fucking loud, too.
He turns it down and tries to calmly school me. “You’re fucked up, Tessa. You need to stop.”
“I don’t need you of all people to have a savior complex with me, Lucas. Take me home now!” I laugh, the pissed off kind of laugh, when he lets out a growl.
He stares at me with his jaw clenched then ticking.
Wanting to stop this, I cross my eyes and stick out my tongue.
He shakes his head then pulls out.
I turn up the radio. He doesn’t turn it down.
As soon as he pulls in and parks, Jade is at his window. His, not mine.
“So, what’s wrong with her?”
He looks at me, and I glare at him. Then he looks back at her. “She drank. She’ll be fine.”
He owed me that, I think.
Then he opens his door and steps out.
“What are you doing?” I ask in annoyance.
He leans down and looks in at me, and with an exaggerated excited smile, he claps, freaking claps, as he says, “I am going to hang out with you, Tessa, for about an hour to make sure you’re okay.” His face then goes unreadable as he slams his door.
I scramble out—well, things are a bit slow moving at the moment, but I do my best—and slam the passenger door behind me. “I don’t need you to.”
Lucas gets to the door and throws it open as I hurry behind him.
Chewy barks his freaking head off and jumps on him.
“Hey, boy,” Lucas says, scratching behind his ears. “Look at you.”
Chewy gives him a lick, jumps back, and barks some more at him.
“Yeah, buddy, I know.” He pets him as I push past them both.
Once inside, he stands there and asks, “When did he start jumping?”
“About the same time he started sleeping on furniture.” I shrug as I open the fridge. “I’m hungry.”
I hear Lucas’s deep chuckle and look back at him. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing, Tessa,” he says as he continues to pet Chewy.
“Chewy, get over here. You’re my puppy. Yes, you are.” I wave a piece of bacon at him, and he ditches Lucas.
“Chewy, you suck,” Lucas sighs out.
“Really?” I stomp. “Well … you swallow.”
The living room erupts in laughter, and that’s when I realize we’re not alone, which is good, because I don’t want him here with me, especially not alone.
I shrug and call out, “Who wants popcorn?”
Lucas and Tommy stay and watch a movie, Return of the Jedi, and I snuggle up with Phoebe and Chewy.
When I wake up, he’s gone.
Chapter Twelve
The next day, Mom and I go to the Greens and help fill out thank you notes with Toby’s mom. We address the envelopes, and she hand writes personal messages to everyone who sent flowers, even my friends, including, Lucas. Then she sets to checking the list of people who attended the service, and we sort those who she’s already written to. It’s then that I realize Lucas attended the services.
When we finish, I’m exhausted and emotionally drained.
When we get home, Mom and I sit and watch a show while she plays with my hair as I lay my head on her lap. I sleep, unassisted.
The week passes like the rest. I miss Ann and Toby terribly. I’m also back to hating Lucas, because he still lingers in my thoughts, and he shouldn’t. The day after the ‘ride,’ I felt so much guilt and wanted to tell Toby, but the reality is, if I had, he wouldn’t have been upset. He wouldn’t because he was so confident in us that he made me feel that way, too. I would have been his forever, and he would have been mine, too. Had he not left me … us … died, then I wouldn’t feel this guilt. I can’t handle the pain it causes to lose him and Ann, my constant. And I can’t believe the world still turns for everyone around me while the guilt I feel as I lay in bed at night sits heavily on my chest, suffocatingly so, when I realize … mine is still turning, too.
“We live because that’s what they want for us, Tessa,” Mom said while twirling my hair, answering the question I didn’t even ask. “It hurts, and when it hurts too much, we remember that.”
I have been so angry with her over the past several months, and I have no right. She’s human, and she clearly loves us. She even loves Dad, but sometimes love isn’t enough. Deep down, I know that someday I will understand that.
A couple nights, I went to Jimmy’s after rehearsal and took turns being sober driver, with Cassidy catching a buzz one night and me the next. I took two hits, and that was it. Truth be told, I hated that I was as messed up as I was the other night. But I really like Cassidy. She’s amazing, and she’s a freaking implant.
On Saturday, I push myself to make it as normal as I can. The kids are at Mom’s, so I crank up the family boom box, tuning into the Top 100 countdown, grab my blue spiral notebook, flip through the pages, noting that none of the dates are from this year, and grab the dust clothe and spray.
“Number fifty-one on this week, dropping from last week’s number forty-two for the fifth week on the chart, ‘I Swear’ by John Michael Montgomery.”
I listen intently to a song that I swear I remember, all while wondering when country music crept on my beloved chart.
Country music…
When the instrumental is over and the words begin, tears don’t fall; they flood the paper on my blue notebook as the haunting lyrics stab me in the heart. It hurts. It hurst so fucking much.
“I see the questions in your eyes.
I know what’s weighing on your mind.
You can be sure I know my part.
’Cause I stand beside you through the years.
And you’ll only cry those happy tears.
And though I make mistakes, I’ll never break your heart.”
“Tessa!” Alex yells my name before grabbing me up off the floor, the floor that I didn’t know I fell to, and hugs me. “God, Tessa.” He pulls me tighter to him. “It’s going to be okay.”
After a few minutes, the song stops, and I wipe my face against his shirt, step back, and look up at him.
“You okay now?” he asks, gripping my elbows.
“I’m pissed!” I yell, and he nods once, eyes narrowed, ready to be pissed with me. “When did country fucking music start playing on the Top 100?” A weak attempt at making a joke out of this, but whatever.
Alex attempts a smile, and so do I.
He sighs. “Tessa, maybe you need to talk to someone.”
“Like a shrink?” I laugh.
He shrugs.
I step back and grab the duster. “I’m not sure a shrink can change the direction the music industry is heading.”
“Tessa …” he says softly.
“I’m serious, Alex.” I tap his nose with the duster. “I’m good. Just shocked, you know?”
He nods. “Country music.”
“Yep. Country music’s gonna kill the charts. Mark my word. It’s going to happen, and there will be nothing we can do about it.”
“But you’ll survive.”
“I’m a Ross; that’s how we do.”
He looks at me, his eyes narrowing. “Promise me that right now.”
“I promise.”
As soon as he leaves the room, I close my eyes and twirl the ring on my finger, Toby’s ring. “And I promise you, too.”
Then I hear a whispered, “We’re gonna have
to change our song, button.”
I haul ass into the living room and skid across the floor on my socks, trying to stop. I turn around and look at him. “Button?”
“You listening in on my private—”
I wave my hand in front of me. “Because she’s cute as a button, or are you talking Bambi shit?”
His face burns as red as a neon sign as I snatch the phone from him.
“Tessa, give me the fuuu—”
“Hey, button,” I say into the receiver, smiling because Alex almost swore … almost.
Phoebe whispers, “Like, seriously? He’s amazing.”
“And your song is your song. It’s perfect for you two.”
“Okay?” she says, sounding confused.
“I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it. Love you, Pheebs.”
“Love you, T. Ross.”
I hand the phone back to Alex. “Don’t you change anything about you because of me.”
He nods, face still red.
“Promise me.”
“My word is my word.”
* * *
When the cleaning is done, I sit down and wait for number one while looking at my notebook.
After my breakdown, I have added a few songs to my list, “I Can See Clearly,” a remake by Jimmy Cliff; “Baby I love Your Way,” another remake by Big Mountain; and my five star favorite, “Found Out About You” by the Gin Blossoms, who first made my list with “Hey Jealousy.” Definitely going to buy a tee.
“Okay, magic eight ball of music, give me something good,” I whisper as the commercial comes to an end.
“Number one on this week’s chart, for the second week, ‘The Sign’ by Ace Of Base.”
I laugh, and Chewy perks up beside me. “Oh, buddy, did you miss that sound?” I ask, giving him a scratch then standing. I pat my chest, and he jumps up, wagging his tail, and then we dance.
By the second time the chorus begins, I sing along.
Looking in the mirror, I smile, and it looks absolutely believable.
Black jeans, and my new black Gin Blossoms long-sleeved tee, tucked in, and yep, my boobs look too big, but hey, they are. Life’s too short to spend time trying to hide my tits.