by L. T. Varner
“Worry about yourself and your little happy-go-lucky fucking relationship, Mike.”
Knowing it was time to leave, I tried to step out. That is when he decided to stand in the doorway and not let me through.
“You’re going to listen to what I have to say because you know I’m only saying it because I love you and miss you. I need my best friend back.”
I didn’t say a word; the things he said were hurtful and, although I knew they were true, I wasn’t going to admit any of it. I was on the verge of tears when my phone went off. Mike grabbed it out of my hand and hit the ignore button after looking at the name. I hadn’t seen him this angry in years.
“Am I free to go or what, Mike?” I snapped, trying to grab my phone back.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
For once I told him the truth and said, “I am going to get high with James. You shouldn’t wait up.”
“Baby, let her go. It’s her choice what she does,” Mark whispered, as he moved in front of Mike to try and calm him down.
Mike uncurled his fist and held my phone out to me, but as I went to grab it, he threw it against the wall, smashing it into about ten pieces.
Stepping aside, he yelled: “I am so tired of your crap, Danni. Just get the hell out.”
A part of me wanted to argue with him, but instead, I gathered up my stuff and left. People stared as I walked out of the bar: It was obvious everyone had heard us arguing.
I got into my SUV and went to pick up James. On my way there, I was reminiscing on my attack. When I left the hospital, all I wanted to do was go home and end my life. I wondered what stopped me because now it felt like it would have been a good idea.
The ride out to Ron’s was silent. Mike’s words kept racing through my thoughts. Screw Mike, I thought, who does he think he is?
James finally broke the silence.
“Do you still have liar’s block?”
“I don’t think I will have to lie after all.”
I told him about Mike and the whole argument.
“I think maybe we need to kick up our party a bit.”
“How is that?” I asked.
“I know what will make you feel better, trust me.”
We arrived at the house, and I immediately noticed not too many people were there. Ten people at the most. Amber came up and told us to come out back to talk alone. Once outside, she explained that Ron and his friends had run into some trouble. They didn’t think they would be back until tomorrow. James asked what she had, and she rattled off a few terms I apparently didn’t know. He told her what he wanted, and she explained that she would have to call Ron to get a price. A couple of minutes later she came back with it and the price per Ron. James nodded in agreement and took what she offered after giving her a few hundreds. I was confused about what was happening.
Amber waved as we were leaving and I stopped dead in my tracks, suddenly finding myself a little mad at James.
“What the hell is going on?” I asked.
He calmly said, “Just get in the car and I will explain later.”
“No, I want to know now!” I was starting to act like a spoiled child.
“Just get in the car!”
The urgency in his voice made the decision for me as I climbed into the passenger seat. On the way back to town, he explained that usually when Ron ran into trouble, that meant he was in jail or thought he was being watched. Either way, James explained, it was a good idea for us not to be there. We didn’t take the usual way back to town, and he mentioned that he wanted to show me something.
We pulled up to a run-down little cabin in the middle of nowhere. He looks at me and explains, “It doesn’t look like much now, but give me six months, and it will be different.”
Walking into the cabin, I smelled fresh-cut wood and dust. I could tell that James had already started remodeling it. He went into detail about all the things he was going to do to it, explaining that, hopefully, it would be his full-time home soon.
It was dark, and he said he would make a fire if I wanted to look around. I went to the kitchen and was surprised when I opened the fridge and saw it was full. He had everything planned out in detail. It was amazing how quiet it was with no television, radio, or internet. I was not interested in having a nice dinner or talking, for that matter. Mike’s words were still burning in my ears, and all I wanted to do was tune them all out.
I asked James what he had gotten from Amber, and he said, “Just some pills because that was all she had to sell.” He handed me a beer and asked if I was ready to kick up the party a little. Of course, I was more than ready.
After taking the pills and starting on my second beer, we sat on the couch in front of the fire. Our conversation segued from one subject to the next when, suddenly, we were talking about sex. He was going on about how long it had been since he had had sex. I was surprised when he said it was only two months ago.
“I don’t remember you dating anyone,” I said.
“I haven’t dated anyone. Amber and I just ran into each other at the bar one night, and it went from there.”
Surprisingly, I felt a rush of jealousy and asked, “Why didn’t you mention it to me?”
“Sorry, I didn’t think that was something you wanted to hear about.”
Changing the subject, I found myself telling him about my last attempt at dating.
“It happened a couple of weeks before I was…never mind.”
At that moment, I couldn’t believe what I had just said. I was horrified! I couldn’t even look at him, but I could feel James staring at me. I wanted to crawl under the couch and hide.
“Do you by chance have any more pills? I don’t think I took enough,” I said.
“I feel the same way,” he answered, looking more mad than upset.
We each took a couple more and just sat there waiting for them to kick in.
Out of the blue, he asked, “When was the last time someone kissed you the way you should be kissed?”
I had no answer for him. I just stared at the fire. I couldn’t remember the last time I had shared a passionate kiss with anyone. I got up and walked to the kitchen to get the whiskey. Obviously, the pills weren’t doing anything.
As I closed the fridge, James was standing uncomfortably close to me, and neither one of us said a word. He put his hands on my face, leaned forward, and kissed me.
At that moment, I forgot who I was and how to move all at the same time. His lips were warm on mine, and I felt something, a need that I had all but forgotten about. The more I let myself feel, the more passionate our kissing became. His hand slipped inside my shirt and without being aware of my actions, I was taking off his shirt, trying to get closer to him. Sensing my response to everything happening, he pulled my shirt off, too. I started tugging at his belt, and he guided me toward the couch. Unbuttoning my pants at the same time, he sat down on the sofa, pulling me down to straddle his lap. He was trying to take off my bra, but suddenly I felt like I was going to be sick.
I took off running to the bathroom, and as soon as I shut the door, I was throwing up and shaking uncontrollably. I could feel the knife against my neck, the smell of grease and oil in my nose; I felt myself pushing against his chest to try and get him off of me, and that stupid cornfield.
The first time since the attack I was sobbing hysterically and feeling every emotion that I had pushed as far down as I could.
The door flew open behind me, and James fell to the floor with me, pulling me into his arms.
“It’s okay to cry, beautiful,” he said, holding me tight against his chest.
And I did. I cried and cried, and all the while, James never let go of me. At some point during my crying, James carried me to the bedroom and told me to try and sleep it off; we could talk more in the morning.
I woke up from the best night of sleep I had in six months, feeling fantastic. I didn’t have that typical headache I always seemed to have.
I could hear James talking in the living room, and I
was wondering who he was on the phone with, especially since I thought I heard my name a time or two. I just lay there listening, trying to understand the conversation. I started to sit up, quickly realizing that all I had on was my underwear and bra.
James must have heard me moving around, and he knocked on the door.
“Can I come in?” he asked, slowly pushing the door open a little.
I grabbed the sheet, wrapped it around me, and said, “Yes, James, come in.”
He sat on the bed beside me and asked, “You okay?”
“Did we . . . ?” I mumbled, motioning between us.
“No, calm down. I will explain the last couple days to you.”
“The last couple days? We just got here last night.” I must have looked utterly confused as he covered my mouth with his hand to stop me from rambling.
“That was two nights ago. You cried for hours. I picked you up off the bathroom floor and put you in bed. You slept for thirty six hours straight, and you were talking and crying in your sleep.”
“Mike is probably worried sick about me,” I mumbled.
“I called him against my better judgment. Of course, he wanted to know where we were so he could come get you. I told him that maybe it was better just to let you sleep. We can call him now if you want, or I can take you home myself.”
“I’m not sure what I want to do,” I said.
For the first time in months, I felt calm, relaxed, and less angry. Sleeping more than a couple hours probably had made the most difference.
“Danni, I don’t want to tell you how to live your life, but I think you might need to talk about the assault. I would gladly listen and help any way I can.”
That was a turning point for me: for once, the proposition didn’t make me mad. Maybe I just didn’t feel judged by James. Sensing I wasn’t going to speak up quite yet, he got up and went to get my clothes for me.
While getting dressed, I thought about my fight with Mike. I wondered how he was feeling about this mess. I was dragging everybody I cared about into my pain. I just hoped it wasn’t too late to apologize.
When I pulled into my driveway, I noticed the extra car and wondered who was at my house. Of course, Mike and Mark were there, but I had hoped that Mark had gone home for once.
When I walked in, I heard a familiar voice and almost had to pick myself off the floor; it was my dad. I was instantly frozen. Do I walk in casually like nothing had ever happened? Do I just hug him like normal? I chose to walk in casually and just see what would happen.
They all stopped talking as soon as the door shut behind me. I marched forward to whatever was coming to me. As soon as my dad looked at me, I could see tears building up in his eyes. This was new to me, and I just watched him until he walked over and hugged me tight.
“Baby girl, I am so sorry for not being here for you when you needed me. It won’t ever happen again.”
Am I in the right house? My dad, this big rock star guy, who never showed feelings in his life, suddenly had his arms around me, apologizing for what he hadn’t done. I thought I was the one who needed to apologize. I didn’t know what to say, so I just hugged him back.
My dad whispered in my ear, “Someone else wants to apologize for his behavior, as well.”
He let go of me and looked at Mike. The look on his face was priceless: it was as if he were being scolded by the principal, and he didn’t like it one bit. Mike walked toward me and motioned me to come with him. I followed him into our home office. I knew this was going to be interesting.
“Danni, I am sorry for trying to control your life and telling you how to live it. We have always been able to talk to each other about everything, but now you just shut down and push me away.”
I stopped him and asked, “Mike, what would you do?”
He hung his head and said, “I have no idea.”
For once, I had a voice and started telling him exactly what I thought and how I felt.
“The one time I needed you most, you chose your love life over me, and that hurt.”
That struck a nerve. Now we were both crying. Finally, everything was out in the open. After about an hour of us pouring our hearts out to each other, Mike had only one thing to ask of me.
“Please give Mark a chance?”
I admit my behavior toward Mark was not the best, but he came into our lives at an awful time, and he had taken Mike from me.
“I will start over with him and give him a chance, as long as you still make time for me.”
“I promise you, Danni, you are a priority to me. I love you very much.”
“I love you, too, Mike.”
We went back out to the kitchen, and I recognized a familiar smell. It was the smell of my dad making fried chicken. That was something he had done a lot when we were kids. It was a way for me to know that he was home from the road for a while. It turned out to be one of my better nights with Dad, Mike, and Mark. We talked about life in general, and I got to know Mark a little better.
After I had stepped into my hot shower that night, I wondered what my next step was going to be. Do I see a therapist? Do I go away to one of those rehabs that seem more like a spa than somewhere you go to get help? I shrugged the thought off quickly, knowing all too well I wasn’t about to talk to a stranger about what had happened. I liked where all the feelings and emotions were already stored, deep down so I could continue ignoring them.
We all decided the best therapy for me was to escape South Dakota for a while and go on the road with my dad.
Chapter 5
Holy Hot Hot Hot
A few months flew by, and I remembered why I loved traveling with Dad so much. Watching him perform helped me remember why I loved music. It was an adrenaline high to get on stage and play the music that fires you up, even when you were watching someone else do it.
I met a lot of new artists: some were nice, and some were jerks. You never know what you’re going to encounter on the road. It was always fun watching women try to get my dad’s attention and I was surprised by the way he thought it was amusing to me that he was not interested in them in the least bit. He mentioned that once you have a daughter, you see things differently.
I laughed, “When did you become so wise?”
“As soon as you grew up and started testing my patience.”
We were starting to become comfortable talking to each other, and no topic was off limits. One-night sitting on the bus while we were writing a song together, he put his guitar down and looked carefully at me for a minute, almost as though he were putting a thought together.
“You can ask me about your mom, you know? I’ll tell you anything you want to know about her.”
No questions came to mind. I didn’t respond, knowing he pretty much summed it up for me when I was a kid.
“You make rash decisions the way she used to, and you look a lot like her. I sometimes wish she would have stayed,” he said, looking more at his guitar than at me.
I was confused, “I thought you said she took the money you offered and left?”
“The truth is, she desperately tried to take you with her, but the thought of losing you was more than I could handle. I offered her the money to leave without you. She knew she couldn’t take care of you by herself; she couldn’t even take care of herself. I think deep down she knew I could take better care of you than she could. I know it broke her heart when she left.”
“So, why has she never tried to see me at all?” I asked, sounding irritated.
He shook his head and said, “I don’t know. I’ve sent her invitations to birthdays, graduations, and holiday parties, but I never get a response. At this point, I have no idea if she is even alive.”
Nothing was said for a little bit, and we both just picked up our guitars and went back to writing. The mood had changed. An hour later, he said he needed to get some sleep and kissed the top of my head as he went to the back of the tour bus.
My mind was spinning. I was lost in thought wondering if my
mother was alive, if she had another family, or if she had even thought about me.
I felt my phone vibrating next to me and saw it was Mike. We talked for two hours about my conversation with my dad and life in general. His only question was if I wanted to try to find her and, at this moment, the answer was no. I was finally getting the relationship with my dad that I had always wanted, which made me content for now.
It was the end of May and already hot and dry outside. Thankfully, we were at the last festival before we headed back, and I was ready to go home and sleep in my bed.
We had just wrapped up our sound check and Dad was out finishing some interviews. I relaxed on the couch and started to close my eyes. Suddenly the door opened. Frank, the bus driver, came up, looking like the heat wasn’t agreeing with him either.
“Hi, Danni, Billy told these two gentlemen they could cool down here while the air conditioning on their bus gets fixed.”
Super, I thought, and stood to leave.
“You don’t need to leave on our account, baby,” one of them said in a sarcastic tone.
Great, I thought, another rock star with a massive ego. I wanted nothing to do with it. They looked me up and down, and all I could think about was why they were trying so hard to look like bad boys in their ripped jeans, tight T-shirts, and cocky attitudes.
“Hi, I am Collin, and this is Rick,” the other one said, holding his hand out to me. I ignored it and just stood there, staring at his face.
Wow, Collin was holy hot hot hot. He was a head taller than me, very broad shouldered, with the body of a man that must work out often. With the latest short spiky haircut, his dark brown hair made his blue eyes stand out. I realized I was staring at his pouty lips and strong jaw line when I forced myself to look at the other one. Rick was not as good looking. Shorter and not very athletic, he smiled at me; “creepy” came to mind quickly.
“I have to go,” I stated, feeling a little panicked being alone with them.
“Aw, baby, don’t leave. We’re enjoying the view,” Creepy Rick said.
I wanted to get as far away from them as possible.
After I had stormed off the bus without a word, I was halfway to the media tent when I realized I had left my phone on the bus. I needed to go back and get it. Maybe Frank will get it for me, I thought.
