But, when it was all done and quiet and they’d all returned back to their hotel rooms for the night, Trista thought less about the excitement of the next gig and more about the emptiness of everything else in her life. That was rare and different for her. She’d always loved the live shows. The music. The band. Her family. Being on the road.
It was a turning point. She could feel it. The hold was losing its stick. The thought scared her. Where would she go from here? What did a person do once they’d experienced this high? She feared the only other half of that duo—the low. Lucky. She stopped herself cold at that thought.
It was a few minutes past midnight. She was restless. The hotel gym was her best idea. She’d run herself to sleep if she had to.
* * * *
Lucky took out a cold bottle of Bud Light from his refrigerator and a plate of leftover roast beef from the night before. Maybe it had been from a couple nights ago. He sniffed at it to make sure it was still edible. It smelled okay. He was too tired to fix anything fresh and he still didn’t feel like eating with his father and uncle.
He plopped down on his couch and took a bite of the meat. It was fine. He ate some more and just to be safe, washed it down with a few large swigs of his beer.
Did he really want to listen to this message? Yes and no. He had to give Trista credit. She had guts to call him again after the way he’d treated her past attempt. It was either that or she counted on him not answering. Maybe she had really laid into him. Cussed him out for the cowardly way he’d retreated from the situation. He wanted to hear her rage, the more he thought of how much he deserved it.
Maybe they should have a talk. They’d gone through too much together in that whirlwind week not to face each other one last time. He set his beer down and sat back further into the sturdy frame of his custom sofa. Then he flipped open his phone and dialed his voicemail. There was only the one message.
Man, it cut her off. She was sorry, not mad. What was wrong with her? She must feel guilty. If she was innocent in all this, then she’d have been angrier than a swarm of wasps at his assumptions. But she’d been bewildered if not at a complete loss for what to say to him. He was surprised she hadn’t thrown his bag out with the trash, or burned it.
Little did Trista know that she carted around one of the only material objects in this world that meant anything to him. The blue shirt he’d worn practically every other day he’d been around her was one his mother had made for his father the year before she’d died. Now that he was grown, it fit Lucky well. Other men might laugh if they knew the care he took with it. It was nothing for him to wash that thing out by hand, in his kitchen sink. Other than that, he tried not to wear it too much. The fact he’d spent so much time in it on the trip with Trista revealed pretty much how crazy he was for her. She’d paid so much attention to him in it and he knew that was the reason. Because she liked it.
The yellow panties. She had those too, tucked inside his bag. Did he want those? Yeah, he did.
Yeah, she had his stuff, and didn’t even know what it meant to him.
* * * *
Trista’s legs spun like those of terrified Spaniards running from charging, enraged bulls. Her earphones were tucked firmly in her ears and her music was loud enough to drown out her horrible singing. When Jaxon walked in behind her, she didn’t notice.
The electronic band buzzing in her ears wasn’t all about being depressed and morose. She could think of another upbeat song by Depeche Mode, if she tried really, really hard. But right now, the pressing speed of the pop-driven tune in her ears was the only one that came to mind. It pushed her legs faster, steadier.
Jaxon stepped into her view and waved but she just waved back and kept on with her malicious workout. He sat down and picked up the bar from the weight bench. It lay across his thighs and he looked at her.
Slowly, she allowed her feet to adjust to a less frantic circling speed. She didn’t want to, but she pulled her earphones out and stopped the next song before it began. Her pores oozed sweat.
“Hey,” she said.
Jaxon curled the weight bar simply by rotating his wrists. “Couldn’t sleep? You don’t usually keep these hours.” Veins popped over his inner forearms. He’s so strong, why didn’t he stand up to Vangie and go on that stupid trip with me? Then I’d probably never have known who Lucky Mason was.
“Yeah. First show. I just have to get used to the adrenaline kick.”
She wondered how he handled it. It was a million times more directed at him and the other band members. Up until a few years ago, she knew exactly how he’d dealt with it. Booze, in particular that little treat from South America. It was potent. She’d been shocked to see the familiar bottle of Cachaca at his house the other night. What a damned shitty night it had turned out to be.
“Hey, so have you heard anything about Maryella yet?” On top of everything else, she’d been preoccupied by her adopted niece’s whereabouts. She’d tried a few times, in vain, to get a hold of Vangie’s parents. It seemed Lucky wasn’t the only one avoiding her calls.
“I do have a bitty of good news.” A huge smile struck up on his face. “Vangie’s mum called me an hour before the show tonight and let me speak with Maryellie. Apparently, Vangie dropped her there with her oldies and then took off, didn’t say where she was going but that she’d be back in a few days.”
“I guess that’s good news. I mean, Helen is a good lady, trustworthy. Makes you wonder huh?”
“You mean how she could have given birth to someone like Vangie?”
“Well, you said it, not me.”
“It’s okay. Look, I know I fucked up when it comes to that. But…”
She had to cut him off. “Really? You really see that now? ”
“Yeah, I do. I guess I thought I deserved it. All that time. I mean, I think I still do, but I’m just too old to deal with it now. She’s better off with some young asshole who’s willing to put up with all the games. And for what it’s worth, no way in hell did you deserve it. Any of it.”
She shook off his words about her when they had Maryella to be concerned over, but inwardly it did make her feel a little better. “It sounds like you’re really over it.”
“Well, I gave myself a pretty nasty wakeup call the other night. I can’t be trashing myself like that. Maryellie doesn’t need that crap. She needs a daddy who cares more about her than, well, other things.”
“It’s okay, you can say it.”
“Say what?”
“That you stayed with Vangie for the sex.”
“What? Where did you get that idea?”
“Well, judging by your reaction, I think I’ll keep that to myself.”
He shot a look up to the ceiling and pressed the weight bar into the air like it was a Q-tip. “Stefan doesn’t know everything, Trissy. We’ll just let him keep telling himself he does. It keeps him happy.”
“How did you know? Forget it. So what was it? I mean, I really don’t understand. I think I’ve been pretty clear on just about everything else you’ve ever done and felt and said and written. But her, I just never really understood what kept you there.”
“Easy—I was selfish.”
“What? That makes no sense. So you wanted that treatment to be for you and only you? You really do need help, Jaxon. And by the way, she was doling it out to everyone.”
“You can joke all you want, baby girl. But yeah, she was a challenge I couldn’t beat. I wanted desperately to be the one who did. I mean, it wasn’t that bad at first. When Maryella was first born.”
“I guess.”
“You don’t agree?”
“Are you kidding me? Don’t you remember that first night I met her? She told me to go fuck myself, Jaxon. I mean, come on.” She pulled her thin cotton shirt up to blot the sweat stinging her eyes.
“Oh shit, I didn’t know that.”
“She said it right in front of you!”
“Well, I was obviously distracted.”
“Oh my god, yo
u and your gender are horrible. And yes, I think Stefan is spot on in his assessment. Selfish my ass!”
“Wow, she really told you that?”
“Oh yeah. I think it was right after a show in Vegas, and you guys had gone down to the casino but I needed you to do an interview with the local paper. I needed you for about ten minutes and Vangie, someone I’d never seen before, graciously let me know where I could go with my request while she was hanging all over you.”
“Well, I don’t know what to say to that.”
“It’s nothing, Jaxon. Really. I’m just really hoping you’re gonna stay in this better place. For you and Maryella.”
The first bead of sweat trickled down his temple. He’d already hiked that bar up about fifty times. “Like I said, I’d do anything for my baby. God, she sounded so good tonight.”
“That’s really fantastic, Jaxon.”
She was happy for him, in the most sincere way possible. But her own emotions and feelings and thoughts were disruptive at best. And she couldn’t hold the smile for long. She climbed down from the bike and walked over to toss her hand towel in the hotel’s soiled bin. She bent over to give Jaxon a congratulatory hug, and that’s when she lost it.
* * * *
Jaxon helped Trista back to her room. The late hour meant a mostly deserted hall, that and the fact that not just anyone could ride the elevator up here. He flipped on her light switch and walked her over to the bed. She was in bad shape. He’d let her down, so badly, in so many ways. A friend would make it up to another friend. For now, he’d try getting her to sleep.
“It’s okay, baby girl. I can never tell you how sorry I am. But I’m here for you now, I promise. Just close your eyes.”
Her head sank further into the pillow and her body curled inward, bringing her knees nearly to her chest. He covered her up and rubbed her back a few turns, then began to sing. She drifted off to a song he’d never officially recorded.
“When I close my eyes, I see you and your smile. I fear you’ll go away, please stay a little while. And when they open up, I can’t believe you’re still there. You look like you would cry for me. You make me want to care.”
“Sleep, Trista Jeane. I’m gonna make it right.” He turned away from the curved and hollow form of his very best friend. He rolled silently off the far side of her bed, turned off the light and then quietly pulled the door closed. He would have stayed, but there was something he owed her. Something he needed to set right, because he had been the one to tear it apart. At least one of them should have a fighting chance at love.
It had to be Trissy.
He headed back to his room and found his cousin’s number in the previous calls scroll on his phone. Yeah, it was almost two in the morning. But he wasn’t the only prick who’d hurt Trissy. If he was awake and ready to deal with it, then Lucky should be, too.
The phone rang and rang. Shit if this wasn’t the most uncomfortable frickin’ chair he’d ever sat in. Fancy ass wood. Of course it didn’t help that his foot was tapping like it was on speed.
“Pick up, you little fuck.” Okay, maybe Lucky didn’t deserve that. The chair either. No, Lucky absolutely did. Trissy was barely holding it together. The least his cousin should have done was have a discussion before leaving town without a word.
Finally, after two more calls, Lucky answered the phone.
“Hello,” he said lazy and slurred.
“Lucky? It’s Jaxon. We need to talk.”
Lucky groaned. “No, we don’t.”
“Grow up, Lucas. Be a man.”
“What the hell is that, Jaxon? You call doing what you did being a man?”
“No, I don’t. But at least I didn’t run away from her like a fucking poof.” Jaxon made a fist and then pretended that his fingers had just exploded open.
“You know what? Unless you have some point to make, I’m hanging up.”
“Shit, Lucky. Can’t you see what’s going on here?”
“Yeah, clearly. I saw the two of you kissing that night. And now you call me to tell me that I’m the asshole. At least Trista apologized.”
Trissy did what? “What? What do you mean?”
Lucky was silent on the other end.
Whenever he had nothing to say, it was usually because he had no good defense. Lucky probably didn’t either.
“She left me some messages. Said she was sorry.”
He nearly let go of a few more colorful expletives his cousin deserved to hear but knew that would end the call.
“Have you spoken to her, Lucky?”
“Not exactly.” His kid cousin’s response was awfully quiet.
“Lucky, she didn’t kiss me. I kissed her.”
“Yeah, at least three times. Anything past that and you’d have to rub it in my face on your own.”
“Don’t you see what that means? I tried kissing her, as you’ve attested to, several times. She didn’t feel anything for me, Lucky. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”
“Jaxon, you are a fucking selfish asshole.”
“I know. But Trissy isn’t. And she doesn’t deserve this from you. And I think you know that.”
“Bullshit. She could’ve gotten up and left the room. She didn’t.”
“She didn’t leave because she was in shock and still clearly concerned over my health. I’m telling you it was meaningless. I knew that going into it. I just had to prove it to her. Trissy felt like she owed me for things that happened a long time ago. I thought she was confused over some hidden feelings for me.”
“I thought you said you knew she’d refuse you.”
“Well yeah, I knew it but I didn’t think she did. And the truth was that she was pretty damn clear on the subject without my idiotic stunt.” He remembered the tender way his bestie’d cupped his face yet looked at him like he was crazy.
“Why didn’t she say that in her message?”
“She shouldn’t have had to. If you’d have stuck around a few minnies longer, you’d have seen and heard for yourself. She was just on her way out to you. I’d never seen her face so hopeful and happy. And then, never so worried and lost. Even with all the shit I’ve pulled over the years and the situations I’ve gotten myself into, she never looked that scared over me. She truly thought something had happened to you.” If he really wanted to make his point, he’d tell Lucky how she’d only slept a handful of hours the past week and how removed she’d been from all the excitement surrounding her. But he didn’t want to paint Trissy so bad off.
“Did she ask you to call me?”
He plunked his forehead down into his palm. “Give me a fucking break, Lucky? What do you think?”
“No.”
“Yeah, get a clue. She said she didn’t want to upset you and your family.”
“That would be your family too, Jaxon. Or have you forgotten?”
Silence. No excuses, no defense.
This call wasn’t about him. But Lucky had taken his licks and now it was his turn. If they were having this conversation, then they were having it like real men.
“Uncle Bear doesn’t know about Maryella, does he?” Lucky asked.
Shame slapped him hard. “No.”
“Well, I showed my dad a couple pictures of her yesterday and he wants me to talk with your father later this morning.”
Now it was his turn to feel like the coward. He bit his lower lip to pain.
“Look, Jaxon, I know that’s your business. But that man loves you all the same. He’s still your father and he never disrespected your mother’s name. I know that much for sure.”
“Yeah well, maybe we both have some things to get right. I can’t do much from here, Lucky, and it’s a bad time of year to start trying.”
“Maybe a phone call sometime would be a good start.” Lucky yawned loudly.
“Yeah, I was gonna say the same to you, little cuzzy.”
“I hear you, Jaxon. I hear you.”
He pounded his fist lightly on the dark wood, ritzy desk. “Hey, w
hen you talk to Bear, tell him I said hi and tell him I’d like him to meet his granddaughter someday. It’s kind of hard right now, you know.”
“Yeah, I know. I’ll tell him.”
“So, uh, we’re in New York tonight, leaving for some other city tomorrow, and then I think D.C. a few days after that. Well, actually it’s Virginnny but they like to call it the D.C. area. I don’t know why the fuck they do that.”
“You got me.”
“Yeah, well I’m glad we had this talk. Maybe I’ll see you at a show or something. You know, Trissy handles all that VIP and backstage shit. She could probably get you a ticket. If you gave her a call…”
“All right, man. I’m gonna let you go. It’s frickin’ two thirty in the morning here.”
He pulled the phone from his ear and spoke directly into it like a microphone. “Call her.” He had to be clear.
“Goodnight, Jaxon.”
The long conversation had left him drained. He rubbed his hands over his face feeling like he’d done something good for once, then jacked his shit. Afterwards, he fell back onto his bed and begged for sleep.
* * * *
He’d taken a bit of an ass chewing, but one he’d deserved. Jaxon admitted the kissing incident had been a good intention gone wrong. Trista had apparently been on her way back to him when he’d left her. Which made believing she’d give him a second chance pretty ridiculous at this point. Jaxon had treated her like crap, but at least he was there, taking his lumps and sticking it out.
He opened the images folder on his phone and selected the one of Trista holding Maryella on her hip. She had been the little girl’s shield that day and Jaxon’s saving grace for the past sixteen years. But who had protected her? Her gramma, he supposed. He was thankful for that.
But who was there for her now? How had he been any different than the hollow promise of the church that stood just feet away from her while she’d suffered the abuse of her own step-father? Lord, I told her I loved her, then ran away. Cheapened their time together by falling down at the precise moment when he should have stood tall.
It wasn’t the time for a phone call. It was time he acted like a man. After breakfast, he would set out to make things right. He wouldn’t fail her this time.
Sidewalk Flower Page 20
