I opened the door to my office and sat down. I took my laptop out of my bag and started going through emails and other garbage. The business side of music was shit sometimes, but that was life. I had been working with a producer named Carl. He was an old school kind of guy with a wild looking beard, big black glasses, and he recently traded his ponytail for a shorter, messier hairstyle. I told him if he was trying to reinvent himself, his face gave away his age. He called me a prick and said to send him some new music.
Half joking, I decided to email him right then and explain that I’d just played a coffeehouse, elevator music set and it went well. I could become famous by not singing. How about that?
I put on some music and turned in my chair to face three guitars that were there for repairs. Two guitars just needed tune ups. Restring them, balance the action of the strings, make them shine like they were brand new. The other was having issues with one of the pickups, which meant I would have to take it apart and check the wiring.
I got the first guitar unstrung and there was a knock at the door.
“Come in,” I yelled out.
The door opened and Stephanie slipped into the room. She shut the door. She fought with sweaty strands of hair and let out a long breath. She looked around the room. Sometimes I swore that she thought I was down there doing drugs or setting up a drug lab. Nope. It was just a massive open room that stunk like age, had ugly, scuffed up tiles, and still had a bunch of religious pictures on the walls that I didn’t bother taking down. I had messed with the devil’s side of life for so long, I figured I could use some points for whatever was upstairs, you know?
“You okay?” I asked Stephanie.
“Just wanted to say thanks. For helping.”
“Sure.”
“That guitar thing you did… that was good. We should do that more.”
“Morning sets?”
“Yeah. People were hooked on you.”
“Yeah, right,” I said.
“I’ll pay you.”
“You don’t need to pay me for anything, Stephanie.”
“You could put your dirty hat out for tips,” she said with a smile.
“We’ll talk about it some other time.”
“Okay. Hey, that kid you teach guitar. Everett?”
“It’s Rhett now.”
“Oh. Sure. Rhett.”
“What about him?”
“He stopped by just now.”
I stood up. “What?”
“He told me to give you this,” Stephanie said.
She handed me an envelope. I opened it. It was a piece of a paper with a few ten dollars bills inside. The money was as messy as the handwriting.
I read the letter. “Fuck.”
“What?”
I looked at Stephanie. “Nothing.”
Rhett wrote to tell me he was getting out of town for a few days. And the cash was for helping with Carrie. That she kept my hoodie but gave it to Rhett. And that he was keeping it.
“What a mess,” I whispered.
“What is? Is that kid okay?”
“No,” I said. I slapped my hand to the paper. “He’s too much like me.”
My mind thought about Frank. Was I supposed to be Frank to this kid? Do what Frank did for me?
“Well, if you think you should call someone about it,” Stephanie said.
“I’ll figure it out.”
I thought about what to do. I had no idea where Rhett lived. I knew nothing about him except that he wanted to play guitar - and that he was in love with a girl named Carrie. I tossed the letter and the cash to the table. One good thing about the way I grew up was that I made friends with a lot of cops and a lot of social workers.
“Thanks for giving that to me,” I said to Stephanie. “I’m going to reach out to some people I know.”
“Think about what I said.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I said and waved her off.
Stephanie left the room. I grabbed my phone and found a woman named Betty. I had met her first when I was seventeen. I gave her a run for her money, but she never gave up on me. So I shot off an email to her with everything I knew about Rhett and asked her to keep it quiet if he wasn’t exactly in trouble. Last thing I wanted was to break trust with Rhett and have him go crazy.
With my morning all but shot, I called Rose. I hadn’t heard from her yet and whether she liked it or not, I wanted to know what was going on with Frank.
“Hey,” she said, answering the call.
I shut my eyes and felt all the bullshit of the morning wash off me.
“How’s Frank?”
“Good,” Rose said. “I mean, as good as he could be. He’s awake. He’s feeling okay.”
“Really? That’s the best thing I’ve heard all morning. Hope you don’t mind me calling.”
“No. Of course not. Sorry I didn’t get in touch last night. It was hard to leave the hospital…”
“Don’t apologize for anything, Rose,” I said. “Do you mind if I swing by there and see him?”
“My dad?”
“Yeah. I know it’s been a while but…” I rubbed my chin. “If something happened to him and I never got to say…”
“Okay,” Rose said. “I know. I get it. I didn’t expect you to call. Or…”
Or what, Rose? Say it. Say that you expected me to be in another city. Playing a gig. Writing a song. Ignoring reality. Go ahead, you can say it.
“I did call, Rose,” I said. “I want to see Frank. I want to see you. I want to make sure you’re okay. Which I know you’re not. But I want to know what I can do to help make it okay. Same for Vivian. Need me to get her some clothes or makeup?”
Rose laughed.
Hey, Rose it’s good to hear you laugh again, even through a phone. You don’t need to know where I am right now. Hell can sometimes be cold.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
“Nothing,” she said. “You know us too well, Foster.”
“I’ve been around a while. Seriously though. What can I bring? Coffee? Food?”
“You want to bring me some of the coffee I sell?” she asked.
“Tastes better than what’s at the hospital.”
“I agree,” Rose said.
“You have to agree,” I said. “It’s your job.”
“Shut up, Foster.”
Hey, Rose I love the sound of your voice. The way you can talk and make time forget about me. But I’ll never forget about you.
“I’m on my way,” I said. “Okay?”
“Okay,” she said. “Foster… thanks.”
“No need,” I whispered. “See you soon, Slug.”
“Jerk.”
The call went dead.
I leaned forward and put my elbows on my knees. I hung my head.
It was dangerous. She needed me. Which meant she was vulnerable. At the same time, I needed her. Sitting in the basement of a church converted into a coffeehouse was wearing me thin. Playing random gigs for beer and crumpled up ones was taking its toll. So was trying to get Carl to help me sell a damn song so I could pay the rent next month.
I ran a hand through my hair and stood up.
At least I knew I wasn’t going to let Rose down.
Yet.
15
There’s No In Between
Foster
I walked down the hallway carrying coffee and food. Real food. I stopped by this little hidden gem in town that looked like a greasy shit hole, but it had the best food in the world. Everything from breakfast to lunch, nothing for dinner because the old man that owned the business closed it up at three. On the dot. Even if someone was in line, this old bastard would flip the sign from open to closed and start shutting down the grills.
Rose met me in the hallway and I showed her my offerings.
Even at a distance she was something beautiful. The memories of she and I rushed through me like a river. It wasn’t like something I had hidden and tried to avoid.
She had some random zip up hoodie on and
a pair of jeans. Her hair pulled back and not a touch of makeup on her face. She always hated herself when she had no makeup on. To me, that’s when she was most beautiful. Able to cut through the air and steal it all from me with ease.
“Thank you, Foster,” she said.
“No worries,” I said. “If there’s anything else I can do here…”
“No. You should be working. Right?”
“No.”
“No?” Rose asked. She raised an eyebrow.
She was judging me. She was worried about me.
I understood it. She had the right to do so.
“I’m fine, Rose,” I said. “I promise you. I’m not leaving here unless I’m going to get you something.”
Vivian then came over to us and reached for a coffee.
“Excuse me, miss,” I said. “That’s not your coffee.”
“What?”
“Oh, wait. Vivian? That’s really you?”
“What?” she asked again.
“Foster,” Rose whispered.
“Oh, it is you. I didn’t recognize you without all the makeup. Wow. Look at you.”
Vivian’s cheeks turned red. “You’re an asshole, Foster.”
“I know. Want something to eat?”
“No thanks, Kingsley,” Vivian said with a smirk.
She turned, whipping her hair around, hurrying away.
I smiled at Rose.
“You really had to do that?” Rose asked.
“I really did,” I said.
“I’m going to have to fix that.”
“I know,” I said. “I’ll make it up to you.”
Rose turned and I tossed the bag of food into a chair so I could grab her arm. I quickly put the remaining coffees down on a table between two chairs.
“Hey,” I whispered. “Are you okay?”
“What?”
“Come on, Slug. With everything.”
I saw her bottom lip quiver. She bit it, trying to be so strong. I think in some messed up way I made her this way. Made her strong. Made her able to hold back. But I also knew how to break her down.
Slowly, I reached with my other hand and took her hand. I interlocked our fingers. I squeezed three times. That used to mean I love you. When we were in bed, listening to the rain or the buzz of the air conditioner in summer. Right now it meant are you okay?
Rose shook her head and I pulled her close to me.
I wrapped my arm around her and felt her face against my chest. I figured she needed a moment to herself to cry. Vivian was older, but sometimes she was a pain in the ass. Worried about makeup, cute guys, and nothing too serious in life. That didn’t make her a bad person at all, just different to Rose.
When Rose took a deep breath, she backed away. She took her hand from mine and wiped the corners of her eyes.
“Jerk,” she whispered.
“Me?” I asked, laughing.
“Totally,” she said. “I didn’t want that.”
“You needed it.”
“Shut up, Foster.”
“Hey, can I see him?”
Rose nodded. “Yeah.”
I picked up the coffees and food again. I dropped everything off for the nurses to enjoy.
Walking side by side with Rose, my fingers kept moving, touching her hand. Wanting to hold her hand. My mind dared me to think about the last time we were together and what happened.
That wasn’t going to happen though. There was no going back. Not when it came to Rose.
I rubbed my jaw as she took me to the hospital room.
It was a bleak area in the hospital to be. Everyone in these rooms was literally fighting for their lives. You could feel it in the air.
When I got into the hospital room, I felt uneasy. I suddenly wanted a drink. I wanted that bottle of whiskey again and wanted to drown myself.
The first thing I heard were the beeps of machines.
Then I saw Frank.
He looked the same as always. Just a little less hair, and the hair he had had thinned out.
“Hey, Dad,” Rose said. “Someone wanted to visit you.”
Frank opened his eyes and turned his head. When he saw me, his eyes went wide. One of the machines started to beep faster.
“Frank,” I said.
“Foster,” he said. “Jesus Christ.”
“Yeah,” I said. “How are you?”
“Wonderful,” Frank said. “Taking a few days’ rest.”
He smiled.
It made me smile.
“Did the doctors come in yet?” Rose asked.
“Not yet,” Frank said. “I’m fine. When do I get out of here?”
Rose sighed. “It’s not that easy, Dad. You know that.”
“Eh, shit on that,” Frank said.
“Same old Frank,” I said.
Frank curled his lip. “Same old Foster. Just showing up whenever you want.”
“Dad…”
“No, he’s right,” I said.
“What do we owe this visit to?” Frank asked. He looked at Rose. “Are you back with this fool?”
“No,” Rose said without hesitation again.
I nodded. “No, Frank. I’m playing gigs, giving lessons. Writing songs. Doing good. Rose is kicking ass, huh?”
“That she is,” Frank said. “Coffee. And here I thought when she started drinking coffee at ten years old it was going to come back and bite me in the ass.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Rose said. “Was Vivian in here?”
“Not since you two left.”
“Shoot,” Rose whispered. “I have to go find her.”
“Why? What happened?” Frank asked.
“Foster happened,” Rose said.
Frank chuckled.
Rose walked by me, but not before touching my shoulder as she did so. I turned my head and watched her leave the room. Damn, how could a woman make my heart jump like that.
When I looked back to the hospital bed, Frank looked pissed.
“What?” I asked.
“What did you do to Vivian?”
“I may have made a comment about her makeup.”
“Oh… that’s not good.”
“I know,” I said. “Can’t help myself.”
“And with Rose?”
“Frank…”
“Hey,” he said. He lifted a weak hand. “I may be in here, but I’ll still kick your ass, Foster.”
“I’m sorry time got the best of us,” I said. “All of us.”
“Don’t worry about that. You’re doing good?”
“I’m doing okay.”
“You’re doing better now that you have an excuse to see Rose, I bet.”
“Yeah,” I said.
Frank let out a sigh. “You know, any good father would have done anything to keep someone like you away from his daughter. I hope you know that.”
“You did your best.”
Frank laughed. Then he groaned and tried to touch his chest. “Shit, that hurts.”
“Take it easy, Frank. What’s with your heart giving out, huh?”
“Who knows,” he said. “You know, collapsing like that, I thought that was it. I wasn’t afraid though. I’d get to see my Kathryn again. But I’d leave behind my two girls.”
I swallowed hard. “No, Frank. You don’t get out that easily.”
“I can see that,” he said. “Foster.” He reached for my hand. I took his hand. He had zero strength. It crushed my heart. “What happened…”
“No,” I said. “Frank. No.”
“Yes. I thought I was doing right.”
“You did do right.”
“Then what happened to you?”
“I got lost,” I said. “That’s what I do.”
“You know, Foster, I wanted to do good for you…”
“You did, Frank. You did. And to answer your question about me being here? If something were to happen to you and I never got a chance to say thanks for what you did, I’d hate myself. So thank you for everything. You knew when to help. Y
ou knew when to yell. You know when to take a swing.”
“I did throw a punch a couple times, huh?”
“To be fair, I was drunk,” I said. “I was trying to ask Rose to marry me.”
“And you were standing under my bedroom window,” Frank said. “You moron.”
I smiled. “You hurried down those stairs and out of the house.” I moved a chair with my free hand and sat down. “You charged down the side of the house barefoot, in pajama pants. And you didn’t even say a word. You just threw a punch.”
“And I got you good,” he said.
“You did, Frank.”
We both started to laugh. Then Frank coughed. Machines beeped louder, faster. He clutched his chest again, clenching his teeth tightly as he shut his eyes.
“Shit,” I whispered. “You okay?”
He cleared his throat. “I’m good. Foster, you listen to me. Thanks for being here. You leave in the worst ways. In ways that only make sense to you. But you always manage to show up at the right time.”
“She deserves forever,” I said. “I’m not sure my forever is the one she should walk though.”
“Forever doesn’t exist, Foster. I know that. I lived it. You know it too. All we have is right now. There’s no in between. This second. Minute. Hour. Day. That’s what we have.”
I nodded. Halfway on his deathbed and Frank was still throwing that fatherly advice out there like it just came naturally to him.
Before I could respond, the door opened and in came Rose, Vivian, and two doctors.
I stood and gave Frank’s hand a squeeze before letting it go.
I turned and saw Rose a few inches from me. The doctor started to ask Frank how he was feeling.
But I was lost in Rose.
I caught her hand again. I gritted my teeth. I was unable to talk. I felt a lump rising up in the back of my throat.
Goddammit…
Rose half smiled.
I squeezed her hand three times.
And I knew exactly what I wanted it to mean.
16
Distraction is an Excuse
Rose
Let You Go Page 10
