by V. F. Mason
Since that day three months ago, we chatted a lot and sent each other pictures. He was still sending me gifts, and I still refused to see him, but the communication was there.
I knew I should have avoided it, but for some reason, I loved our late night talks, funny texts, and jokes we sent to one another. I was reminded so much of that free girl I was during our one night together.
The only subject that was off limits was our private life. He never asked me about other men, and well, I had no desire to know if there were any other women. Just the thought alone made me want to go throttle him in case there were.
It was odd how we lived in the same city, but never saw each other. He made sure to let me know he was waiting for me to make the first move. I couldn't help but respect him for it.
But on the lonely nights, I had fantasies I didn't want people to know about—like him coming to my house, taking me roughly on the bed, and telling me this whole shit between us was over and demanding commitment from me.
Which was insane. No normal female should have those fantasies about a man.
I blamed it on the stupid romance novels. But wasn't my fantasy supposed to be about Jeremy and how he would finally see me and love me?
Somehow, Jeremy wasn't on my mind anymore.
Would it be so wrong to give this thing with Drake a chance? He was asking for one meeting. Wasn't I curious about how we got married, and maybe the whole attraction and need I felt each day was just part of my imagination?
Finally, was it so bad to do something my body and mind urged me to?
Before I could hit the send button, Ben’s words interrupted me, and I had to put my phone back on the table and focus on the conversation.
“So, get this. I can totally study it in a few years. Chicks will totally dig that,” he said excitedly, his big mouth smiling while he wiggled his brows at me. Dad chuckled, finding it amusing, but Mom’s eyes narrowed.
“Well that’s true.” The idea of him being a professional racecar driver didn't sit well with me either. It was a dangerous job, and although it was a great profession with lots of fun, I wanted to keep my baby brother as far away from it as possible. “But you are fourteen now. Who knows? Your dreams might change.”
Mom sent me a smile and wink, but Ben frowned.
“It didn't change for you.”
Huh?
“What?” It was hard to focus on what he said. The damn casserole was so good I almost closed my eyes and moaned. Mom was the best cook ever.
“You knew you wanted to be a musician since you were my age. So why would it change for me?” His pissed off tone made me raise my brow and glance at my parents, who just shook their heads.
What was going on?
“Ben, buddy. I didn't mean you have to. Yay for following your dreams.” I hugged him with one arm, and after a second, his body relaxed into mine, but he still wasn’t smiling.
“Everyone keeps on making fun of it.” He pushed his glasses back on his nose. “I may be a geek, but I can still be a good car racer.” He looked down and started to eat, but it was more to avoid the conversation.
Shit.
With all the recent events, the fame, and all, I had no clue my little bro struggled with school. It was the beginning of high school for him. He was ahead in one of his classes, and I remembered those kids. If you were different, no one liked you. Ben read a lot of books, still had an obsession with comics, and even wore shirts with superheroes and well, glasses. All this probably made him the perfect material for kids to pick on.
“Ben, if you have a problem, you’ll let me know, right?”
He was still focused on his plate, so I put my hand on his shoulder and squeezed it lightly, and he finally nodded. I opened my mouth to say I would freaking kick their asses if some of them were giving him trouble, when Mom said cheerfully, “So how are the girls, honey?” She shook her head one time, giving me a stern look, indicating Ben was upset already and there was no point in dragging this conversation on.
“Good. Sam’s on some kind of mountain gig with Jer.” I wasn’t surprised he followed her, but what really surprised me was I didn't give two shits about it. “Ariel is with her folks on some kind of cruise.” It brought a smile to my face, and even Carissa and Marcus cracked up, because her parents dreamed about it for forever. They had this big dream to go on a gay cruise. After that movie with Cuba Gooding, Jr., they thought it must be hilarious fun and dragged Ariel along. She was bitching about it, because their good time meant no sex for her. They must have convinced her with something. “Bella celebrates with Nick and Megan at their place.” No matter how much Bella tried to move Nick to Manhattan, he and Megan preferred Brooklyn, which drove her crazy. But she loved him more than anything, so she still went to celebrate with them, bitching all the way there.
“Sounds like they are all having fun,” Mom said approvingly. She loved my girls and always wondered if any of them needed to stay over Christmas at our place. I shrugged, resumed eating the delicious food in front of me, and reached for a slice of Christmas roast, when Mom cleared her throat, took a sip of her wine, and grabbed Dad’s hand—whose face became instantly serious—and they focused their eyes on us.
“What’s going on?” My voice was curious, and I leaned back on my chair, all thoughts about food forgotten. I noticed Ben did the same, but he still put some French fries into his mouth.
“We need to tell you both something. A story.” She licked her lips, and Dad once again squeezed her hand. “We feel it’s important for you to know and…you guys are hopefully grown enough to understand.” Ben gave me a sideways glance, not liking all this tension in the air. I rested my elbow on the table and put my chin on my hand.
“Okay, Mom, go ahead.” My encouraging words made her smile sadly, and she took a deep breath and started talking.
“Remember the story I told you guys about your father and me? How we met when I was waitressing at an expensive resort, his smile made me lose my head, and then our romance started? Then shortly after, we got married, had Ben, and then decided to adopt you?” We both nodded. Yeah, we remembered that. Who didn’t? Dad was a catch back in his day, and tons of socialites hated Mom for snatching him up from them.
Grandma still held a grudge over Mom and her lower upbringing. It was one of the reasons she never came to visit us.
Oddly enough, she loved Ben and me, but Mom was still on her shit list. “It’s not exactly true.”
That made Ben and me frown.
“What do you mean? Those things never happened?”
She exhaled heavily. “They did, but…it was our second-chance meeting. We used to know each other before,” she added quietly. Now that was surprising.
“Your mom and I met when she was sixteen and I was eighteen. I was visiting my friend in their small city in New Jersey, saw her once at a sort of small town dance thing, and became lost in her beauty.” Mom smiled at his words, and he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it gently. “Then one thing led to another and our romance started. I still remember our first kiss as though it was yesterday.” Ben made gagging noises, and I cringed.
Seriously, who wanted to know this shit about their parents?
“Dad, come on. You can skip the romantic details,” I told him. He chuckled, but Mom was still tense. Why was she so nervous? “So you broke up then?”
Dad’s eyes hardened, and there was deep pain and regret in them. “We had a fight. We broke up, and in the heat of the moment, I left and went back home with every intention of never seeing her again.” Mom’s face paled, and he pushed his hand into her hair and brought her head closer to him. “I’m so sorry for that, honey, every day of my life.” He rested his forehead against hers, and then continued, “She was left behind, and in a few short weeks, she discovered she was pregnant. She tried to contact me, but it was
impossible. I never left a way for her to find me.”
Well, shit.
Mom and Dad had another baby?
“I was so scared.” Her voice was shaking. “I didn’t know what to do. Sixteen and pregnant. My parents, well, they weren’t the best people. They told me to either get rid of it or to get out of the house.” She swallowed. “I chose to run away. I already loved that little part inside me and couldn't imagine my life without it. I mostly stayed at shelters that offered food. I didn't even have a high school diploma.”
She had angry tears in her eyes and furiously wiped them away with her hands. “But then I met a nice lady, and she allowed me to stay at her house as long as I cleaned and looked after her. She was old, but nice. I had the baby; things were going okay, and then she died.” Her eyes filled with sadness. “I was eighteen and could get a job as a waitress in a bar, not legally, of course. The bar had a small place over it where the guy allowed me to stay, but I had to be at the bar and make sure my baby was quiet. It was a hard life, but then even that got ruined, because of a fight with one of the customers. We were kicked out onto the street, both hungry, and I didn't know what to do. I was ready to die, and it was killing me that I couldn't give my baby what she needed.” She licked her lips and clasped her hands in front of her. “I finally decided that it was enough. I actually believed the end was near, so I had to save my baby, and I did.” She grew silent after that. Marcus put his arm around her and they both raised their eyes to me.
“So what did you do, Mom?” Ben asked, confused.
I was silent.
There was no need to ask.
I already knew the answer to that question.
All those years ago, the familiarity of her touch, her eyes, how something about her voice always called to me.
The resemblance between them and me, the instant connection I felt for Ben, how grandma accepted me easily and loved me unconditionally. She must have known the truth.
The fact they adopted me and how there was always this sense of guilt in both of them when I mentioned some of the things I had to go through during my foster-care life.
“She left her daughter at the doorstep of a church and disappeared into the night.” My voice was hoarse, and my throat hurt. Those words, as impossible as it sounds, made me feel pain all over my body.
“What?” Ben’s voice was muffled from the gasps and cries of my parents.
Pushing the chair aside, I stood up, not caring that my plate fell to the floor. My fists were clenched at my sides, my whole focus on my parents.
My parents.
My real fucking parents!
“You left me there,” I spat. “While I was struggling in foster-care through all those families, you met him.” I pointed my finger at Dad. “And lived your happily ever after while I was suffering. That’s how much you loved me.” I was screaming now, the sound echoing in the big room. They both stood up as well, and she made a move to come closer, but I stepped back and she stopped.
I had no desire for her comfort.
“Honey, it wasn’t like that. I thought I was giving you a chance.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? By abandoning me at the church? Did you even know anything about it before you did that? ‘Mommy will come back. Be good for Mommy.’” My voice was full of sarcasm and pain. “Fuck this. You survived, as I can see. You were just tired of having a kid.”
“No.” She shook her head. “No, no. I was starved, dehydrated, and lived on the street until one married couple took me in and helped me. They let me heal, and then got me the job at the resort where I saw Marcus again. The minute we were back together, I told him about you, and we came looking, but you were already in the system.” Tears kept falling down her cheeks, not that it was doing much to me. She was in pain? Good. Let her.
“So you moved on with your life? How convenient for you, Mom.” No affection was in the word like it used to be.
“We hired a private detective. They found you, but we couldn’t get you. Then you were assigned to a family, and we still couldn't have you. Then, when there was finally a chance, you were sent to live with the Nolans, and Anne kept on saying how happy you were there.”
Were they fucking kidding me?
“Yeah, I was. Finally, I had a home where I felt like I was a kid. Until they decided to have a baby and kicked me out. And before them, I was with a really great family, too. Oh, did I mention I was kicked out because some kid tried to rape me?” Dad’s eyes darkened, and I noticed how hard he squeezed the arm of the chair.
His face became lethal and his voice shook in anger. “Name.”
“What?” His question took me off guard.
“Name of the family you stayed with.”
Without much thinking, I answered, “Parkers.”
“I’ll deal with them.”
Wait what? Before I could ask what he meant, Mom kept going.
“We had no idea, but then we begged Anne, and she finally said there was a chance of us adopting you. The minute they told me that, you were on your way to us. It was one of the best days of my life. Our family was whole again, and the only day that was better than that was when you called us Mom and Dad.” She was sobbing now, and as a result, Dad’s shirt had a wet spot in the middle of the chest. Ben stood up as well, and his look was torn between Mom and me, not knowing whom to comfort first. He nodded at Dad, came closer to me, and hugged me fiercely to him, and for a second, I allowed his comfort to slip into me.
“Honey, please find it in your heart to forgive me.” Mom’s voice was raspy, and it was hard to understand what she was saying through all the sobs. Some part of me hurt seeing this beautiful woman so broken.
Mama loves you baby. Always remember that.
But in that moment, I couldn’t.
And part of me hated myself for it.
“I need to go.”
“Jane,” Dad started, but my raised hand stopped whatever he wanted to say.
“It’s too much. I need to think, but right now, I can’t look at either of you, Mom specifically, and not feel angry.” Ben’s arms stiffened around me and I gave him a sad smile. “Sorry, buddy. I love you too, yeah? Call me if you want, but I have to go.” After I squeezed him one last time, I let go, grabbed my phone and jacket, and without a backward glance, I stepped into the elevator and rode downstairs.
It was Christmas. Where would I go?
I opened my phone to text one of the girls when I noticed my unsent message to Drake.
I had wanted to make a move that day.
To give him a chance.
How fucking stupid was that? If anything, the situation with my parents proved that no one could be trusted, and the whole love thing was overrated.
I didn't want to deal with him, or move forward with anything.
I was just tired, so tired.
I erased my message, wrote a new one, and ignored how my heart stopped for a second from the finality of what I was doing. When the elevators opened, I ended up outside and breathed in the fresh winter air as the words I wrote to him kept playing in mind.
There was no answer from him, not that I expected one.
For weeks, the deliveries kept on coming, but I didn’t open the door for them.
Until one day the ringing at eight o’clock stopped.
One year and two months after Las Vegas
Jane
Nick was gone.
I still found it hard to believe, but it happened, and all I felt was numbness.
His smiles, jokes, support, and so many memories flashed through my mind as we sat at his funeral and listened to his coworkers talk about him.
Nick was the best, and he was gone.
He was involved in a car accident with another driver who lost control of his vehicle. Nick was on the way to our New York concert, but he didn't make it. Jeremy told us what
happened after the concert, and Bella lost it. We rushed to the hospital, because she couldn't believe it happened. She was frantic and in shock, but she lost it completely when they showed her the body. Her voice became hoarse and she fainted in Jeremy’s arms. We planned the reception and funeral. She had no interest in anything, and she wasn't in any condition to do it.
Bella had sat next to me, gazing ahead, but it was as if she wasn't there. She wore a black dress and flats. Her hands were in her lap and they trembled slightly. She had no makeup on; her eyes were red and swollen, not to mention the dark circles under them.
She was out of it most of the time, sleeping, as we took turns looking after her. The moment she saw the body on the table in the hospital, a part of her shut off and she was lost and silent. Nick was everything to her, and I wasn't sure how she would handle it.
But was there a good way to handle the death of a loved one?
“Nick’s sister, Annabella, would like to say a few words,” a man said. She didn't move, and people started staring at us.
Sam touched her gently on the arm to get her attention, and she finally snapped her eyes to Sam and looked. “Babe, you’re next,” she said softly, but Bella made no move and had this lost expression on her face. “On the stage. To say goodbye.” Her voice shook a bit, but she handled it. None of us were all right with what happened, and it killed some part inside all of us.
She finally rose up, slowly went to the stage, her hands fisted, and her head high. She didn't pay any attention to Nick’s body in the coffin and grabbed the mic. She stood there for a moment, opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it back. Shook her head, and with a cry, ran away from there as fast as she could.
The girls and I went after her, not as fast as her, because she was so freaking quick. We tried to catch up, but she had already made it to the door, and surprisingly, a cab was there. Before any of us could grab her, she was gone.
