by Frost, Sosie
Reason enough to leave.
“You know…” Quint’s voice never really hardened, but it could get bitter. He practically spat the words at me. “Ever since I was little, I looked up to you. No fucking idea why. But I did. You were the only one who tried to do anything on his own. You never cared what people thought. You even stood up to Dad. I thought you were brave. And I admired that. But look at you now. Even when you’re clean, you’re still a monumental prick. What the hell happened to you?”
I flashed a grin. “You wanna play this game?”
“You wanna tell me the truth?”
“Take your pick. Drugs. Drinking. Women.”
“Don’t you put this on women. For Christ’s sake, the only woman who ever meant anything to you just left town. What was wrong with her? Did she push you to be happy? Was she too fucking wholesome for you? Too decent and loving and compassionate—”
“Yes!” The confession meant nothing. “Don’t bring Honey into this. There’s a lot of shit you don’t know about my past. Shit you should never know.”
Quint shook his head. “I don’t buy that. I wanna know the truth. What the hell happened to you? What changed when we were kids? What turned you into such a fucking bastard that you’d turn your back on your own blood?”
He didn’t have a fucking clue.
“I’m done,” I said. “I told you I was leaving. Now I’m gone.”
Julian stood. “Let us help.”
“No.”
“I wasn’t asking.”
“And I’m telling you no. There’s nothing you can do.”
Quint threw his chair out of the way to face me. I’d never hit my little brother—too young to bear the brunt of my teenage aggression and the only one of us I tolerated as an adult. But that wouldn’t stop me now. He got into my face and dared me to make a mistake.
His words rumbled low. “Since when does this family mean so goddamned little to you?”
“Since when was I a part of this family?”
Cassi blinked away her tears. “Don’t you pretend like we’re nothing to you.”
“For Christ’s sake…” I ran a hand through my hair. “You guys are everything to me. But you don’t know everything that happened under this roof. And if you did, you’d think twice about calling this a family.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is.”
“You wanna be an ass?” Julian snorted. “You might not have any family when you return.”
If I fucking came back.
They didn’t deserve the anger, but it’d festered inside me too long, corrupting and poisoning and destroying me faster than any drink or needle.
They sat around Dad’s old dinner table, like the past was gone just because a couple kids ran around, engagement rings popped onto fingers, and crops got planted in the fields.
They got better.
I got worse.
Sometimes pain never went away. Made a man cruel. Heartless. Made him speak when he should have stayed silent. Anger was worse than any drug, and I had no detox from the rage.
I smirked at my family.
Wanted to hurt them.
And that’s why I should have left long ago.
“Did you know Mom used to cheat on Dad?” I asked.
Cassi collapsed into her chair. So did Quint—the one of us closest to Mom. Her baby.
Julian grabbed Marius before my brother let loose and ran his mouth.
“What did you say?” Varius frowned. “How could you know that?”
“It’s not true,” Quint said. “He’s fucking with us.”
Oh, I was just getting started.
“Did you know that when Mom cheated on Dad twenty-nine years ago, she got pregnant?”
“Shut the fuck up, Tidus,” Quint said. “Don’t you dare talk about Mom like that.”
My baby brother refused to accept the truth. Made sense. He’d taken her death the hardest, had been closest to her out of all of us. Not that anyone cared. Not that anyone ever noticed Quint, his pain, his problems. Nobody but me, and how the hell was I supposed to help him?
“Mom came home to Dad,” I said. “Told him the truth. Said she broke it off with the other guy and begged him to take her back. Even talked him into keeping the baby. Couldn’t bear to abort the little bastard, even at Dad’s insistence. But he was a weak man, and he forgave her. Couple months later, she gave birth to a baby boy.” I tapped my chest. “That baby was me.”
Rem swore. “That can’t be true.”
Cassi’s tears rolled freely over her cheeks. “Oh God. Tidus, please tell me you’re lying.”
“When have I ever lied?” I smirked. “Thought you’d all want to know.”
Varius gestured with a quiet hand. His solemn gaze stared through me, trying to find what was left of my soul. Wished him luck. I’d traded it for some booze a long time ago.
“Are you…sure?” V spoke slowly. His way of asking if I was full of shit. “How do you know this?”
“Dad told me.”
Julian rubbed his face. “Jesus Christ. I don’t believe it.”
“What’s not to believe?” I laughed. “Doesn’t it make sense? Doesn’t it all just fit? Dad knew I was a bastard from the very beginning. Why do you think he hated me so much? Why do you think I was his fucking punching bag? Why do you think I never stood a goddamned chance to be anything but our family’s greatest failure?” I let the question hang. “Because I’m not his son. I’m not his blood. I’m not a Payne.”
Marius stared only at the table. “How long have you known this?”
“Six years,” I said. “He told me the night I burned down the barn.”
Quint looked like he’d be sick. “You kept this a secret for six fucking years?”
Felt like the compassionate thing to do.
“What was I gonna say?” I shrugged. “Mom’s dead. Dad’s dead. Why would I dredge up the past like that? Why would I ever confess that shame to you guys? Why would I hurt you guys when I’m trying my fucking hardest to get better so I can become a good enough man to join this family? Why do you really think I’m leaving?” I gazed around the table. None of my brothers looked at me. “I don’t know who my real father is. I don’t know whose blood is in my veins. I don’t know if I can ever get healthy. For the past twenty-eight years, I never thought I was good enough for this family. Now I know why.” I beat at my chest. “Because I’m not actually a part of it.”
Cassi stood, approaching me with tear-filled eyes and a trembling lip.
I expected a hug.
She slapped me across the face instead.
“How dare you,” she hissed. “How fucking dare you.”
Rem leapt up, grabbing her before she smacked me again. My cheek ached, but I didn’t rub it. Was man enough to take my hits even as my little sister fought against Rem’s hold.
“You’re not a part of this family?” She freed herself from Rem only to point to her dark skin. “What about me? Look at me! Do you think anyone would look at the black woman running around Butterpond and immediately think that I was a Payne?”
Shame rolled through me. “It’s not the same, Cas.”
“Yes, it is! Doesn’t matter if it’s full-blood, half-blood, or no blood. Mom and Dad adopted me. They loved me. They raised me as their own. How dare you say you aren’t a part of this family.” Her voice cracked. “Because if you aren’t…then I’m certainly not.”
Rem pulled her into his arms, but she spoke through the tears, pointing at all of us around the table.
“You know damn well how much I love all of you,” Cassi said. “I would do anything for any of you. So don’t you tell me I don’t get to love you, Tidus. I will follow you from town to town, hotel to hotel, back alley to back alley. I will never leave your side until I can convince you that you are worth being loved!”
Wasn’t easy bearing the weight of the world on my shoulders, especially when I shoveled the bullshit there myself.
I swallowed, daring to look my
brothers in the eyes for the first time in six years. My confidence shattered. For the longest time, addiction fueled my behavior and decisions. After I broke its hold, after I got clean, it was fear of relapse that controlled my every waking moment.
It’d been a long time since I didn’t know what to do, where to go, or how to get there.
I pushed Cassi into Rem’s arms, letting my friend comfort her because I had no clue how to do it. I gave a helpless shrug before knocking a chair out of my path.
“I’m just trying to be a better man.” The words ripped from my raw throat. “I wanted to fix myself. To be someone worth this family.”
“You don’t have to do it on your own,” Cassi said.
“Never worked well with others.”
“Then why don’t you start now?” Quint asked. “The hard part is over.”
Varius disagreed, his eyes dark. “No. The hard part’s just beginning.”
Marius nodded. His voice had shadowed, roughened after losing his leg. Gretchen brightened it, but even she couldn’t always reach the worst parts of him.
“Those thoughts don’t go away,” Marius said. “The darkness just doesn’t evaporate as soon as you can see clearly. Doesn’t matter if it’s PTSD, depression, drugs. It doesn’t go away. You need help.”
“You need people who love you to pull you out of that despair,” Varius said.
Cassi held my stare. “You need Honey back.”
Telling my family had been hard enough. Revealing the sobriety was the worst mistake I could have made, but if I’d fucked it up, at least they’d be familiar with the worst parts of me.
But Honey…
“Honey is a good girl,” I said. “A nice girl. She’s got a great family. All that ambition. She’s dedicated to her business. Never had anything in my life I’d obsessed over that much…except my next drink. But she busted my balls every fucking day to fix her truck so she could drive all day and night to reach a festival just to shove pork down people’s throats.” And I loved that about her, even if it confused the shit out of me. “She’s happy. Really happy. Do you know what that’s like?”
Julian twisted Max’s pacifier in his hand. He smirked. “Yeah. Getting an idea.”
Marius kissed Gretchen’s forehead. “Took a while, but I found it.”
“I know what it’s like,” Cassi said, holding Rem’s hand.
Rem shrugged. “Only had to spend five years in the fucking wilderness to understand it.”
Varius had not only found happiness, he took salvation in Glory. “It’s a gift, Tidus.”
Only Quint grunted.
“What the hell does happiness have to do with anything?” he asked. “Do you love Honey or not?”
I didn’t want to answer.
“She needs someone better than me,” I said. “She deserves someone who could give her the world—or, at least, follow her around it. Why should she spend her life worrying about me? What good can I offer her?”
Cassi frowned. “You…don’t see it, do you?”
“See what?”
“The impact you have on those around you.”
I snorted. “You mean, when they gotta get a mop and clean up after me?”
“Do you think I would have fallen in love with Rem if you didn’t trust him?” She pointed at Julian. “Don’t you realize you were the one who pushed Jules into restarting the farm? What about Marius and his leg? Gave him a reason to get up and start walking, even if it was to beat your ass. And you were the one who actually punched Varius to get him back into the clergy.”
Varius smirked. “Not the holiest of conversions, but effective.”
I shook my head, gesturing towards every woman in the house. “That wasn’t me. It was them.”
“You keep thinking you’ve pushed everyone away,” Cassi said. “That you have no value to anyone. But do you know what Honey sees in you?”
Easy. “Nothing.”
Cassi sighed. “She sees a friend. A man who needs love. A bad boy who, in her arms, went good, even if it's only for a little while.” Her voice gentled. “Tidus, people love you, even if you don’t want them to. Even if you don’t love yourself.”
Spencer hadn’t looked up from his plate. He spoke softly, as if afraid to admit it.
“I love you, Uncle Tidus.”
And it was a gift I couldn’t accept.
“I can’t…” I backed away. “I have to figure myself out first. Who I am. Where I actually came from. Whose blood is in my veins. If I can even…change.”
Quint frowned. “You’re looking for another reason to run. If you don’t have the drugs to hurt you or a drink to distract you, maybe you want a broken heart to fill that void instead. You live for pain, Tidus. Why don’t you start living for something better?”
My throat tightened. “And what the hell is better? I don’t know where I came from or why I’m still here. I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to do.”
“You’re supposed to love that woman,” Julian said. “And you’re supposed to let her love you too.”
I should’ve known what fear felt like. Should’ve realized how goddamned selfish I’d been, how pathetic and scared I was of the truth.
I’d never lied to Honey, but I lied to myself. Constantly.
Said I wasn’t good enough. That I had nothing to offer her. That I didn’t need her help.
But I did need her. Badly.
I wasn’t afraid of relapsing.
Wasn’t afraid of destroying myself. Ruining my reputation. Disappointing the family.
I was afraid of being happy.
I was afraid of being loved.
18
Honey
My truck putt-putted its way to the Ironfield Beef Brisket Backyard Brawl-B-Que only to get outclassed by every other vehicle there.
The festival filled with hundreds of rigs, some breaking the bank at a hundred thousand dollars or more for their setup. They had smokers that looked like submarines. Vehicles tricked out with so much equipment they could’ve traveled into a damned war zone to deliver their food.
Daddy always said it wasn’t the cost of the equipment or the size of a kitchen that made good food—it all depended on how much heart a cook put into every dish.
That was all well and good when I was just starting out, but compared to a truck with custom plumbing, ovens, fryers, and workable counterspaces? I started wondering if it was worth even entering the competition or if it’d be better to grab a box of popsicles and restore the truck to a mobile ice cream unit.
I hauled my little trailer behind me. My smoker had awaited this glorious day all spring, but, as I pulled into the festival lot, my nerves tossed themselves on the grill and seared to a crisp. Hundreds of other barbequers buzzed around the yards. The field came alive, and chefs from all over the world pitched their tents, set up their banners, and boasted about their pulled pork and brisket, ribs and steak. Each row of competitors housed at least one world champion, and huge teams of ten or more barked orders and busted their butts to pitch their tents and soak their wood.
This…was a bit more than I’d bargained for.
I’d attended plenty of competitions with Daddy, but we had help. Chefs from the restaurant and Daddy’s friends often joined in the fun. Even Momma used to pitch in, prepping ingredients and keeping a watchful eye on the time when Daddy got a little too greedy leaving his meat in the smoker.
This time…I was all by myself. The wood soaking and food prep, the smoking and cooking, the sauces and garnishes. I stared at my information packet, stomach dropping. I’d entered so many competitions that the times overlapped. I’d have to present all of my dishes to the judging tent within a forty-minute span.
Didn’t leave me much time to do much besides panic.
Which was good.
Last thing I wanted to do was cry.
At least, cry more than I already had. I’d been miserable enough leaving Butterpond. Now it was time to work…
Because I h
ad nothing else in my life.
At least chopping veggies would mute the thudding of my broken heart. And loading logs into the smoker masked the humiliated heat searing my cheeks. And onions? I had a renewed appreciation for a veggie that excused my tears.
Unfortunately, traveling to my designated lot came with its own complications—most notably the presence of two other competitors loading their equipment, coolers, and lawn chairs into my spot. I squeezed my truck into the space, threw it in park, and prepared to—very sternly—hand the interlopers a map of the competition spaces and their clearly defined border lines.
I stepped from the truck only to get hugged from behind. The person spun me, nearly suffocated me in their puffy windbreaker, and smothered me with pink-stained kisses.
“There’s my baby girl!”
Momma spun me around and held me at arm’s length to get a quick look at my face before squealing and hauling me back into her chest.
I peeked out from under Momma’s arms.
Yep. I was the only barbeque pit master getting fawned over by her mother.
…And I was okay with it. I needed a good hug, and Momma always gave the best.
She looked good—just as plump as I’d left her, but she now sported brand new acrylic nails, a fancy weave, and a glorious smile. For the first time in nearly twenty years, Momma didn’t have to worry about what was practical for the restaurant. She spoiled herself, and she looked years younger for it.
“Let me look at my baby Honeybee!” Momma licked her thumb to un-smudge the lipstick stain on my cheek. “Oh, I can’t believe you’re here. We’ve been waiting for this day for so long.”
She pushed me away only to grab her camera.
The flash illuminated the entire competition. I staggered away, rubbing my eyes.
“What are you doing, Momma?” My vision faded into a single white spot. “Trying to X-Ray me?”
Momma patted her brand-new, professional grade camera with a grin. “I finished the scrapbook. Now I need some new pictures. I want to preserve our retirement, so I’m gonna photograph everything, down to every last detail!”
To demonstrate, she snapped another picture.
Then five more.