It’s been a very long time since those days, but they existed.
And the thought of it now makes me sick.
“Turned her down, huh?” the bartender says as he passes me a new drink.
“Not what I want,” I reply curtly.
“No, I heard what you want. That’s what we all want, kid.” He snickers and washes glasses in the sink in front of me. “I’m Bill.”
“Jake. Yeah, well, I can want her all day long, and I do, but I can’t have her.”
“So she exists?”
I laugh and nod. “Oh yeah. She exists.” I pull my phone out of my pocket and thumb through my photos, until I come to the selfie we took at the falls. I’m kissing her cheek and she’s smiling brightly for the camera.
“She’s a knockout,” he says with a low whistle. “Fucked it up, did you?”
I just nod and tuck my phone back in my pocket.
“My Marion, she was a knockout when I met her, thirty-three years ago last February.” He pulls his wallet out of his back pocket and shows me a photo of a beautiful redhead with big green eyes and a pretty smile.
“She’s definitely a knockout,” I agree with a nod. “Are you married?”
“For thirty-three years this August,” he confirms with a wink. “I knew a good thing when I found it and I snatched her up before anyone else could.”
“Kids?” I swallow the rest of my drink and nudge it toward him for another.
“Nah.” His eyes dim as he shrugs and pours my drink. “Tried. Didn’t work out for us.”
“Sorry to hear that.” I toss half of the new drink back, my chest heavy with sympathy. Fuck, I need to call Christina. When does she find out if the last round of IVF worked?
“I have her.” He grins. “That’s all that matters.”
I’m fucking jealous of a guy double my age and his pretty wife. Because he has what I want. He has the woman of his dreams for the rest of his life.
I toss back the rest of my drink. “Another.”
“You better slow down, son. It’s barely four in the afternoon.”
Is it that late already? I’ve been here, brooding, longer than I thought.
“Just keep them coming.”
“Is this going to be a fuck my life kind of drunk, or a I just want to forget kind of drunk?”
I smirk. “Honestly, I think it’s both.” I slide off the stool. “You pour, I’ll be back.”
I stumble—Jesus, I can’t be drunk yet—to the men’s room and piss. After zipping my fly, I push my hand in my pocket, and come out with the small vial of coke that Addie had in her purse.
Fuck me.
Alcohol always was my gateway to the coke, and staring at it now, I want it more than I want my next breath.
Who would care if I got high one more time? Who would it hurt? I mean, I’ve already completely obliterated the no-alcohol rule, so I’ll do this one last time and call it quits.
I look at myself in the mirror, lean on the counter, and swear a blue streak as I turn the water on, open the coke and wash it down the drain, then toss the vial in the trash.
I’m not a junkie, and I’ll be fucking damned if I’ll snort that shit up my nose now just because I’m pouting over Addie.
But I’m going to drink every bottle of Jack Daniel’s in this place.
THE BAR HAS filled up this evening. There are kids playing pool and sinking dollars into a jukebox, choosing some good music, but mostly shitty music.
Or maybe I’m just not in the mood for happy songs.
They played a Hard Knox song, and that only made me want to deck someone.
I forgot that alcohol makes me aggressive, and that’s only one of the reasons I gave it up long ago.
“Do you want to close your tab, Jake?” Bill asks as he hands me a drink. I’ve been steadily getting more and more drunk all day. And it feels fucking fantastic.
“No. I’ll need another.”
“I think I’m cutting you off, pal,” he replies. “It’s almost midnight, and you’ve been drinking all day.”
“Are you the fucking alcohol police?” I ask with a frown.
“Yeah, actually, I am.” He smirks. “Who can I call for you?”
“Why would you call anyone for me?” God, my words are all fucking slurred.
“Because you’re not driving home. I can call a friend or a cab, which is it?”
“Call Addie.” I pull my phone out of my pocket and then bark out a laugh. “Wait. You can’t call her.” I slide my phone across the bar at him. “She hates me. Call Christina.”
“Are you sure?” he asks with a grin. “Or is there another woman’s name you want to toss out?”
“Christina,” I repeat and lay my head down on my arm, suddenly very tired. When did I get so fucking tired?
“This is Bill at the Yellow Rose bar in Hillsboro.”
I’m at the Yellow Rose? Huh.
“I have Jake here, and he’s going to need a ride home. He told me to call you.”
I don’t need a ride home. I have a fucking car. As soon as I sleep off this bender in the backseat, I can drive myself home.
God, it feels like I’m spinning. The kids playing pool are laughing. The music is loud.
“You okay, Jake?”
“Yeah, Bill, I’m good,” I answer him without opening my eyes. “I can just sleep here.”
“No, you can’t.” He laughs and I suddenly smell coffee. “Have some of this.”
“No thanks.”
“Suit yourself.”
I haven’t had the spins since . . . hell, since before the band broke up. Since before Christina’s accident. I frown and shake my head, trying to clear it. Why in the hell am I thinking about that? It was a long time ago. It has nothing to do with now.
I feel a hand on my back.
“I told you, sweetheart, unless your name is Addison, I’m not going to fuck you. I’m sure one of the guys playing pool will take you out back and rock your world, just ask them.”
“I’m relieved to hear that.”
Christina.
“Hey.” I open my eyes and try to focus on the three Christinas standing beside me. “How did you get here?”
“I drove here, Einstein. Has he paid his tab?”
“I have it here,” Bill says, handing Christina my debit card and passing me a pen to sign the receipt. I give him a five-hundred-dollar tip. He’s earned it. “Here’s his phone.”
“Thanks.”
“You didn’t have to come.” I step off the stool, and Chris tucks herself into my side, helping me toward the door. “Thanks, Bill! Have a good one!”
“Obviously, I did have to come,” she says as she leads me to her car. “You’re hammered.”
“Thank fuck.”
I drop into her car and put the seat back, immediately closing my eyes.
“Spinning?” she asks as she pulls out of the parking lot.
“Yeah.”
“If you’re gonna throw up, warn me so I can pull over.”
“Not gonna throw up.” I take a deep breath through my nose and will myself not to throw up. “Fucked up.”
“What happened?”
I swallow the bile rising in the back of my throat. “Addie’s gone.” I feel her turn off the freeway and brace myself as she turns right. “God, slow down. This isn’t a fucking race.”
“What do you mean Addie’s gone? Where did she go?”
“Broke it off,” I reply. We come to a stop, and I push out of the car and hurl on the grass, unable to keep it in anymore.
“At least you didn’t do it in my car,” Chris says from behind me. “Come on, jackass.”
Man’s arms pick me up, and I look over at Kevin, who smiles happily. “How did you get here?” I ask him.
“I live here.”
“You don’t live with me. Christina wouldn’t like that, and I don’t swing that way, man.”
“Oh my God,” Chris says with a laugh, leading us to the front door. “We’re n
ot at your house.”
“Oh.” Before I know it, we’re in the guest bedroom. “I fucked up, C.”
“Why did you break it off?” she asks quietly and helps me out of my shoes.
“Because I fuck up everyone’s lives,” I say and lie back on the bed. At least throwing up made everything stop spinning.
“You’re an expert at fucking up your own life,” C mumbles, but then the lights go out, and I let sleep take over.
BACON. I CAN smell bacon. I turn onto my side and moan. Fucking hell, I should never drink like that.
Thing is, I don’t ever drink like that. I’m too old for that shit.
“Jake! Get your ass out of bed!”
Christina is yelling from the kitchen, and it makes me smile. Back in the day, before the fame and all the bullshit, she used to make me breakfast to get over a hangover. A four-egg omelet with bacon and more cheese than any one person should eat in one day.
Except, I don’t want to move. My head feels like ten people are sitting on it, and I’m pretty sure I no longer have a functioning liver.
“Jake,” Christina snaps as she opens the door to the bedroom. “Don’t make me throw water on you.”
“You wouldn’t.” Is that even my voice?
“Oh, you know as well as I do that I would. And have. And will again if I have to. So get your hungover ass out of bed.”
She slams the door, which makes me grab my head, needing to stabilize it.
When did she get mean?
I roll to the side of the bed and lift myself into a sitting position, moaning. God, I did a number on myself yesterday.
And Addie’s gone.
Fuck me.
I shuffle out to the kitchen, still in yesterday’s clothes, and most likely smelling like the booze-filled bar I spent the day in, and almost run into Christina, who’s on her way back to the bedroom with a glass full of water.
“You got mean.”
“It’s noon,” she replies with a roll of her eyes, and leads me to the kitchen. “And your omelet is ready.”
“This omelet is why we’re friends.”
“No, me picking you up last night is why we’re friends.” She smirks and sits at the breakfast table with me, watching as I devour the omelet. “At least you have an appetite.”
“I need something in my stomach. It feels raw.”
“It probably is,” she replies with a soft smile. “Want to talk about it?”
“Do I have a choice?”
She shrugs and looks out the window, which gives us a beautiful view of Mount Hood. “You always have a choice, but I won’t stop badgering you until you talk, so you might as well make it easier on both of us and do it willingly. You broke up with Addie.”
“How do you know that?” My head whips up to stare at her.
“You told me last night.”
“I was so fucking drunk.” I lower my head into my hand.
“Yeah, you gave the whole bar quite a show, lip-synching to Cyndi Lauper, and stripping down to your underwear and all.”
“I’m not wearing underwear,” I mutter, slightly mortified.
“Yuck.” She scrunches up her nose, then laughs. “I’m kidding. It sounds like you were just broody.”
I nod and take the last bite of the omelet.
“Here.” She hands me four ibuprofen and a tall glass of orange juice.
“Thanks for taking care of me.”
“I’m practicing.” She grins and rubs her belly.
I stop cold and stare at her. “For what?”
“For having a baby.” Her eyes well up. “It worked. I’m pregnant.”
“Oh my God, C!” I pull her into my arms and hug her close. “I’m so fucking happy for you. When did you find out?”
“Yesterday.” She pulls away and smiles happily. “I would have told you last night, but I was hauling your drunk ass around.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“You didn’t see yourself last night. You’re lucky you made it to the grass to throw up.”
“Oh God. I’m sorry.”
She shrugs and takes a sip of my juice. “So tell me why you broke it off with the best thing that ever happened to you.”
I stare at my empty plate, and all the grief from the past twenty-four hours comes crashing back down on me. “Because I’m not right for her.”
“Why do you think that? Seemed to me that you guys were great together.”
“We weren’t going to work out for the long haul.”
“So, you’re just not interested?” She nods. “It happens. I mean, she seems nice enough, and God knows she’s beautiful, but that’s only skin deep. Maybe’s she’s not as great as she led me to believe.”
“She’s amazing,” I whisper. “She’s better than you know.”
Chris is quiet, watching me, and finally takes my hand in hers, holding on tight. I need this, this connection with her.
“Then why aren’t you with her, J?”
“The other day, after she and I had an argument and she stormed off, frustrated with me, I drove up on an accident on the freeway. Same car as Addie’s.”
Christina’s eyes narrow, but she doesn’t say anything.
“I thought for sure it was her. I thought that she’d been angry, and she got into an accident, and that she’d been hurt. God, C, for about an hour there, when I didn’t know for sure if it was her, I thought that I’d killed her.”
“What are you talking about?”
I shake my head, staring at our linked hands. “I can’t continue a relationship with her. Yes, she’s the best thing that ever happened to me, but don’t you get it? I’ll only fuck up her life.”
She’s scowling at me now, shaking her head. “I’m not following you at all, Jake.”
“I hurt people. I disappoint people.” I swallow hard. “I didn’t care for my dad the way I should have the last few years of his life.”
“You were doing exactly what your dad wanted you to be doing, Jake. He was so proud of you, he was bursting with it.”
“How do you know?”
“Who do you think gave him regular updates on you? I spoke to him all the time. Do you know how many times I heard I’m so proud of that boy?” A tear slips down her cheek. “He wanted you to chase after the music, Jake. It would have pissed him off if you’d done anything else.”
“I know,” I whisper. She’s right. He would have. But fuck, how I miss him. I wish I’d been the one to call him regularly, to tell him about my life. “And there’s you.”
“Me?” She raises her brows.
“You.” I shake my head slowly. “I’m so sorry, C.”
“For what? For being a douche bag?”
“For the accident.” I meet her gaze now, surprised to find so much confusion in her pretty eyes. “For you losing your leg. For the horrible things I said to you before you drove off in that car that night. For it taking you so damn long to get pregnant.”
“Yeah, let’s talk about this, Jake. You’ve been dodging me on this for five damn years, and it’s time you and I have this conversation.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I reply. “I just wanted to apologize for it.”
“I don’t want your fucking apology!” she shouts, slamming her hand on the table. “I want you to listen to me!”
I sit back, stunned. She’s never, never yelled at me before. Not like this.
“You’re so damn stubborn,” she mutters and takes a deep breath. “First of all, I want to know, what do you think it was that you said to me before the accident?”
“You know what I said. I told you that if you didn’t like the lifestyle I’d chosen you could get the fuck out of it. I didn’t need you.”
“No you didn’t.” She’s frowning, shaking her head. “Jake, I don’t remember much about the accident itself, but I remember everything about that conversation. You were drunk as fuck, and you might have been on something, who knows.”
I cringe.
“And I told you to fuck off.”
“No. You didn’t. You didn’t say much of anything at all. Maybe you were saying those things in your head, but I couldn’t get you to say anything, so I told you I’d talk to you the next day after you sobered up, and I left. Jake, do you really think I’d let you tell me that you didn’t need me and to get out of your life? I’d have kicked your ass.”
I smirk, then sober up again. “It doesn’t matter, the end result was the same. You were upset at me, and because of that you got in that accident.”
“Bullshit.”
I throw my hands up in frustration. “Now who’s stubborn?”
“You wouldn’t listen to anyone, Jake. The accident wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. I was merging onto the freeway, and the car ahead of me lost a tire. It came bouncing straight at my car, hit me, and made me lose control. I was pinned in that car because a tire fell off, not because I was so upset at you that I lost control.”
What?
I blink at her for a moment, then stand up and pace away.
“Is that why you broke up the band, J? Because you thought that you’d somehow fuck up their lives too?”
“No,” I reply honestly. “That might have been part of it, but your accident messed me up, C. I couldn’t perform for a long time after it. It was a wake-up call for sure, and I’m thankful for that because it made me take a look at myself and cut out everything toxic in my life. A lot of those toxins were because of the band. But damn, I missed the music.”
“And now you have it again,” she replies. “You make a good living doing what you love and you get to perform for people too. It’s a pretty great gig.”
I nod.
“And you have Addie.”
“No, I don’t.”
But, oh God, how I want her.
“Do you love her?”
“More than I can tell you,” I reply immediately. “But I told her that I can’t do a relationship with her. I hurt us both pretty badly, C.”
Listen to Me Page 19