Tangled Hearts (Evermore 4 Book Box Set)

by ANDREA SMITH

  I couldn’t argue with that at all. “What about you?” I asked, "I mean about pointing out the fact that you’re black?”

  She sighed. “There is still a lot of bigotry in this country. Even Southern California, which is supposed to be the most liberal, laid back, and accepting region in the country, hasn’t fully gotten the memo on that. What Blake offers me is a way in to a lot of the high-end parties…and barbecues,” she pointed out, waving her arm towards the rest of the people at Seth’s soiree. “And that helps me. I have goals too, and being part of the Malibu Brat Pack can only serve me well.”

  The Malibu Brat Pack?

  Jazzy bent down and reached into the ice chest. “Wine cooler?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at me.

  “Sure,” I said, feeling I actually needed a bit of liquid courage. This was a lot of information for me to absorb. “But how can people like this particular crowd help you guys?” I asked, because let’s face it, it was a question begging for an answer.

  “Okay, fair question. So, listen up quickly. Seth is well connected, because obviously, both of his parents are in the industry. Chloe over there? Yeah, her father is an A-List producer of feature films. Julia’s mother is an award-winning director, Jack’s father is an agent, and Nelson’s father is tied seven ways from Sunday to executives with two of the major filming studios in the country. And when you think about it, those connections have connections who have connections, and so on and so forth. Girl, it’s all about who you know and who you blow in this industry.”

  My head was spinning with all the information she was tossing at me. “So what? You want to be an actress?” I asked, twisting the cap off of my wine cooler and taking a long swig.

  “Not even close. No, I want to be a cinematographer. The best as a matter of fact. That’s my dream, and my art. That’s why Blake and I are best friends in all of this. I’m the beard, he’s my connections. It works.”

  We started walking back and I was still trying to absorb all of this. I had no clue just how complicated and political the entertainment industry was, but I was sure my father was in the know. Damn, it had to be pretty cut throat I decided.

  “So,” Jazzy said, “we cool? This is like just between us, right?”

  I nodded, “Oh yeah, no problem. Thanks for sharing and for being the only nice chick here tonight. Well, besides Amy,” I clarified.

  “Oh, and Neely?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You can always speak to me at school when we pass in the hallway.”

  “What?” I asked, stopping once again in my tracks, as my eyes widened, “You mean---?”

  “Uh yeah. I’ve seen you in the hall a few times. But hey, I don’t take it personally. You always walk around with your head down. I don’t know, it’s like you wish you were anywhere but at Malibu High. I get it.”

  “Oh no,” I said, feeling like a total piece of shit, “I’m just kind of in my own world, you know? I’m probably thinking about my drawing, painting, or my next custom montage. Painting is my lifeline. It’s how I cope I think. So you’re a senior too?”

  “I am. And I will be so damn glad to graduate and then focus on my passion.”

  “Me too,” I replied with a giggle, taking another swig. “Fuck Malibu High.”

  “I’ll drink to that,” she replied, tapping her bottle against mine. “Back to the party.”

  We had no sooner arrived back with the others than I could tell we’d been discussed during our absence.

  A platter of burgers and brats was out on the table, and the others had evidently started eating. Seth was giving me the stink eye as if I’d shared last night with Jazzy to put a wrench in his relationship with Chloe. Fuck that.

  “Better get the grub while it’s hot,” Blake called out, nodding towards the food. “Jazzy, you need to eat something, babe.”

  Okay. Definitely a beard.

  “I’m on it baby,” she called back, grabbing a plate. I was following behind her, and just as I picked up a plate, I could hear Julia and Chloe snickering from the lawn chairs that they’d taken next to one another.

  I could tell by Julia’s raised voice, this had been planned in advance. “So, Chloe,” she said, “have you ever been to Tennessee? I hear it’s beautiful.”

  I froze and waited. From beside me, I could tell that Jazzy was waiting for the punch line as well.

  “No I haven’t,” Chloe replied, “but I hear they still iron their jeans down there,” she finished, busting out in laughter. “That true, Neely?”

  I felt Jazzy’s hand as she placed it on mine. But no, this was the last fucking straw. I wasn’t going to stick around and be the butt of their cruel fucking jokes.

  I dropped my plate, and whirled around to face them all. Seth had a look of pure torture on his face, but he said nothing. Nelson was tossing Julia a dirty look. Julia was now looking down at her hands, not willing to face me. Jack had a look of shock on his face, and Amy was chewing on a fingernail. But Chloe? Chloe had a self-satisfied smirk on her face that turned my stomach.

  Jazzy grabbed my arm as I started to move, but I shook it off. I gave one last look to Seth, and I’m not exactly sure what my expression told him, but it must’ve told him something because I saw it in his eyes. It was pure sadness and regret. But it wasn’t enough to make me stay one second longer as I bolted towards my house.

  I ran as if I had suddenly sprouted wings. Nothing but pure anger was the fuel. I heard nothing, I saw nothing. People could be so damn hateful. Some of them truly had black hearts, and I wanted none of it.

  I was at the stairs leading up to my yard when I heard him.

  “Neely! Neely! Wait, please Neely!”

  I whirled around as Seth closed the distance between us, his breath now coming in pants. It was hard to believe that anyone with a sculpted and perfect physique such as Seth Drake would get winded keeping up with the likes of me.

  “Please, Neely—”

  “Shut up!” I shouted, my chest heaving with my exertion now. I could almost feel the adrenaline bubbling in my veins. “I hate you Seth Drake! And I regret every minute I ever wasted on liking you, let alone loving you! You are a despicable person! You claimed me last night, but now I’m un-claiming you as a person in my life! Don’t you ever come near me again!”

  And with that, I whirled back around and ran up the steps. Seth Drake would pay for the way he’d wronged me. That was a promise I made to myself.

  Chapter 10

  April 10, 1997

  Spring Break

  “How does it feel being an adult now, Neilah Grace?” my grandmother asked as she was driving me back to her place from the airport. It was spring break and there was no way I wanted to spend it in Malibu and risk running into Seth.

  “It’s not much different than when I was only seventeen, Grandma,” I replied. “The good news is I got into Brantley College. I start in the fall. I can finally be out on my own.”

  “Where’s this college located?” she asked.

  “In Pasadena.”

  “Isn’t that in California?”

  “Well, yeah, Grandma, but I’m still going to live on campus. My friend, Jazzy, and I are getting an apartment together. She’s going to study cinematography. I’m going to study art and photography.”

  “I see. Well, I’m glad you have a friend. Do you have a boyfriend?”

  “No, Grandma. No boyfriend,” I replied wistfully.

  “What ever happened to that fellow you were sweet on a few years back? The one that lived down the road from your daddy; and sent those letters to you?”

  My stomach lurched, the same way it always did when Seth’s name passed someone’s lips. And it happened more often than I would’ve liked. “That was over a long time ago, Grandma, remember? I broke up with him the last time I went out there to stay with Daddy for a few weeks that summer.”

  My grandmother gave a soft snort. “Nothing wrong with my memory, Neilah
Grace. I knew that, but I thought maybe you eventually patched things up with him after the letters.”

  “Letters? What letters?”

  She pulled her car into the parking lot of the house where my mother was now living. It was a group home of sorts, with a support staff there to assist people that had been treated for various addictions to help them maintain sobriety for as long as they felt they needed the assistance.

  She turned off the ignition and looked over at me, her face lined with confusion. “After you returned home early that summer, you and your mama got your own place. A couple letters came to our house after you returned. I’m sure your granddaddy ran them out to your house.”

  I shook my head slowly. “Never got them,” I replied.

  “Oh well, water on the bridge now anyway, I expect. Now Neely, please be mindful on how you talk to your mama, you hear? She’s well...she’s better physically. Much stronger as a matter of fact, but she’s still got some emotional healing to do.”

  I looked at my grandmother, wondering why in the hell she thought I’d do or say anything to upset Mama. “I want to see Mama get well. Why would I say anything to upset her?”

  “It’s just that she’s not real happy with the fact that you’re living out there with…them.”

  “Grandma, what choice did I have? Surely Mama understands that, right?”

  She nodded, but I could tell there was more. “She was very angry that I didn’t put up a fight against your father to keep you here with me.”

  “Is that why she doesn’t answer my letters? She’s angry with me, too?”

  “I think she’s getting better, honey. I think once she sees you and knows that you’re here for her—that you still love her best, she’ll come to terms with the situation."

  I released a hard sigh. “Great. Let’s do this, Grandma.”

  Chapter 11

  Grandma had been spot on with my mother’s current condition. She did, in fact, look healthier and more alert than when I’d last seen her more than six months ago. She was also correct in that Mama still had an attitude about my living with Daddy and that harlot.

  “So, Neely,” Mama said sitting on a loveseat in the parlor of the group home, “has the harlot refurbished our home out there?”

  “No, Mama,” I lied, “It’s pretty much the same. I redid a wall in my room since the corkboard is gone. It’s my painting wall. I’ve got several creations up there already.” I pulled a photo from my purse I’d taken with my camera to show her. “See here? What do you think?”

  She took the photo from me and studied it for a few moments, her brow furrowed in confusion. “What in the world is that supposed to be?” she asked.

  It was my ‘Sin’ montage. I’d finished it in record time after I’d called Seth out for his despicable behavior. I’d used symbols mostly, with some tattered faux-like drawings, which to anyone else’s eyes would mean nothing, but to me, they were some of his features. Including his dick.

  “It’s called a montage, Mama. Just some symbolic stuff all mashed together with bits and pieces of things from memory.”

  “Well Neely, it certainly is…busy. Now, what’s this thing here? Looks like some kind of a serpent?”

  Oh geez…it was Seth’s…

  “Yes, Mama,” I fibbed. “It’s an evil serpent, very good.”

  “Well I never understood some of your paintings that you called…what was it, abstract?”

  “It’s okay, Mama. I understand them.”

  “So, how are things going for you out there, Neely? You like living there with your daddy and—”

  I cut her off right then, I had to because I was tired of hearing the words whore, slut, floozy, harlot, and the host of other names she had for Tiffany. Oh, it wasn’t as if I would ever bond with Tiffany—no way. But it was tiring to constantly hear my mother use that language.

  “It’s okay, Mama. I make do. Getting ready to leave for college in the fall. I’ll be out on my own then.”

  Grandma shifted uncomfortably in her chair, giving me a silent shake of her head back and forth as if I shouldn’t have divulged this bit of information.

  Mama’s eyes blazed pure anger. “What do you mean...college? You’re not coming back home? You’re eighteen now, Neely. Don’t you think it’s time for you to come on back here so we can be a family again? I mean it’s not like I’ll be living in Hamilton House forever! This is just a pit stop for me.”

  Clearly she was upset. But if she’d answered my letters or even read them, she might have had a clue as to what was going on in my life.

  I looked over at my grandmother for help, but I could tell none was coming. “Mama, the plan has always been for me to pursue college, you know that. I have a partial scholarship to attend Brantley in Pasadena, and Daddy is paying the rest for me. It’s an opportunity I can’t afford to waste.”

  “Waste?” she all but shrieked, “Is that what I am to you Neilah Grace? Am I just a waste of your time and love?”

  Grandma was getting distraught seeing Mama getting all upset over the topic, but I wasn’t about pretending or being dishonest with my own damn mother.

  “No, Mama, of course not. I just need to get my education so that I can have a career. That’s always been the plan, nothing’s changed.”

  She shook her head vehemently. “There are schools right here in Tennessee, Neely. Why in the world would you want to stay out in California? What’s there that you don’t have here?”

  “Mama, it’s too late to change anything now. It’s done.”

  Mama was getting ready to spout something more, but blessedly, one of the counselors came to the door interrupting her. “Nina, it’s time for group,” the woman said, giving us all a friendly smile. “Your family is welcome to join us if they want.”

  “No,” Mama snapped, “they were just leaving.”

  Grandma and I walked out to the car in silence. Just before she pressed the automatic lock, she looked over the roof of the car at me and spoke. “Neely, I’m sorry with how your mama responded in there. You do what you need to do for yourself. I raised Nina to be selfish I suppose, and I’m not gonna let her make you feel badly for living your life the way you see fit. You’re turning out good, Child, that much I can tell. Will you forgive me for not being more supportive until now?”

  I couldn’t be angry or resentful of Grandma. I knew that she and my grandfather had done the very best they could raising Mama. “Grandma, I love you and I love Mama. But I think maybe Mama has some more healing to do, and that’s not your responsibility or mine. She has to want to get better and to see life the way it really is for her now. Her anger and resentment are like a poison to her. I won’t let her poison me any longer. I just can’t do it.”

  We got into the car and she started it up. “When we get home, Neely, there’re a lot of boxes I packed up when the landlord evicted your Mama. I want you to go through them over the next few days and separate anything you want me to keep from the apartment for you. I imagine your mama will be coming back to stay with me whenever she feels she can handle life again.”

  I nodded. “Okay, Grandma, I will. And thank you for understanding about my decision to stay in California. It’s just something that I feel compelled to do.”

  Once back at Grandma’s, I went down into her cellar and commenced going through the boxes that were piled in a corner with “Nina’s Apartment” written in bold black marker on each side of them.

  I never realized Mama and I had that much stuff. I thought most of my belongings had already been shipped out to California, and, for the most part, they had been. But the stuff in those boxes being stored in my grandmother’s cellar were things I had no claim to personally.

  I found one box full of photo albums that I hesitated before opening. Did I really want to revisit a past that no longer existed for any of us? I looked through the album that had been placed on the top, but soon discovered I wasn’t ready just yet to go there, so
I set it aside for the time being.

  Most everything in there was, for the most part, memorabilia or things Mama would need if and when she ever set up residence on her own again.

  The last box I opened was marked: Personal Items and Documents. This peaked my interest although I wasn’t sure why. It contained mostly file folders that I never suspected Mama even kept. The manila folders were labeled with titles such as “School Records,” “Bills,” “Health Records,” and then I came upon one that was labeled, “Personal Correspondence.”

  Who’d have ever thought Mama was that organized? I remembered all the past due bills, and shut-off notices we’d received because she hadn’t been taking care of business towards the end of her descent into alcoholism.

  Sure, while growing up, Mama was always organized and handled the bills until Daddy started making real money. Then he had an accountant who handled all of that plus the taxes, so Mama was no longer needed to be the administrator of those duties.

  I wondered if that was one of the first triggers that set her off into drinking the way she had. Maybe she had started to feel unneeded in the roles she had previously assumed within the household. It was something to consider I suppose.

  I opened the file labeled “Personal Correspondence” and leafed through stacks of papers, mostly those from her attorney during the divorce proceedings; some letters from Grandma to her, but then an envelope caught my eye, and then another one.

  I recognized Seth’s distinctive scrawl. Hell, I’d seen it so many times before, and, for a moment, I thought maybe it was the letters he’d sent to me, but I knew that I’d tossed them immediately upon returning to Tennessee after that summer visit with Daddy.

  I looked at the front of the envelopes and, sure enough, they were addressed to me at my grandparents’ home, but these were postmarked in July and August of 1994. After I’d left Daddy’s early that summer.

  I lifted the contents from the first envelope that had obviously already been opened. It was postmarked July 26, 1994. I unfolded the letter and began reading: