Shades of Pink

by 33 authors

  Exactly one year and one day later, on my thirty-first birthday, I gave birth to my son, Noah, the result of a weekend affair with a vacationer that I neither wanted nor ever did hear from again.

  Not long after Noah’s first birthday, I sold the rights of one of my romance series to a movie production company, after which I moved Noah and myself out to California.

  Two years went by and I found myself at one of the many charity events I wasn’t sure why I bothered to attend, leaning against the bar, sipping sparkling water, quietly watching the people interacting around me, when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

  After a late-night coffee stop and endless conversation, I ended up back in bed with the drummer I’d left hanging all those years ago. Despite the fact we were both now clean, he was still deeply involved in the music industry, a lifestyle I’d had enough of. So I left, snuck out on him in the early morning hours after only two months together. I simply packed up Noah and moved to Brazil.

  During the next three years, Noah and I lived in four different cities: São Paulo, Rio de Janeiro, Belo Horizonte, and São Luís. While there, I stopped writing and dedicated the majority of my time to being a mother, and the rest aiding in the fight against the extreme poverty that perpetuated throughout Brazil.

  When Noah was seven we returned to the States, back to our large home in California. Where my accountant—the guy I kept on payroll to keep my affairs in order but forbade from contacting me—informed me that my mother had passed away.

  Two years ago.

  Suddenly everything—my entire life, my experiences, my right and wrongs, my ups and downs, everything, all of it, everyone—just came crashing to a stop.

  I wasn’t a person who was easily shocked. I’d both seen and participated in some not-in-my-wildest-imagination moments in my lifetime. But this news rocked me to my core. My mother…dead?

  There was no love lost between my family and me. The phone calls over the years were few and far between. My parents never did forgive me for running away; in fact, I believe they began to resent me once the knowledge of my fame and fortune trickled into their small town. My sister and brother certainly did. I hadn’t spoken to either of them since the day I left, my only knowledge of their lives garnered from clipped phone conversations with my mother, never my father, only on holidays. And those occasional phone calls stopped about a year before my son was born.

  I probably could have gone home at some point and attempted to fix what was broken between us, but I didn’t. I’m not sure why I never went back.

  Maybe it was the feeling I had nothing to go back to. My life was so far removed from what it had once been, those old memories seemed like they were from another life, or had never belonged to me at all.

  I spent that entire night searching for a photo, any photo of my mother I could find, and when I emerged from the depths of a guest room closet with an old shoebox full of everything I’d kept from home, I sat down on the never-before-used guest bed and placed the box in front of me.

  There was exactly one photograph of my mother. She was twenty-four years old, long black hair parted in the middle and ironed straight. The picture was grainy and worn but I could see the rose-pink tint of her oversized sunglasses. My big sister was on her right, I was on her left, and my little brother was eight months along inside her swollen belly. We were all grinning at the photographer, my father.

  My father…

  The very next day I packed our bags and Noah and I got on a plane. When we landed, I rented a car and spent the next four hours listening to Noah’s chatter with half an ear while my stomach churned. The town limits sign came into view, simultaneously overwhelming me with a surprising and unwelcome sense of homecoming along with the urge to vomit. Moments later, after driving through the small town that looked much the same as it had when I left all those years ago, I pulled into the driveway of my old house and took a deep breath. So…can you go home again or not?

  I was about to find out.

  “Mom?”

  I looked down at my son, sitting in the passenger seat. “Why is that man staring at us?” he whispered.

  I followed his gaze to the side of the house where my mother’s pink rose bushes grew tall and plentiful. Wearing a pair of dark blue coveralls, hands shoved in his pockets and watching me with an unreadable expression, was my father.

  As I got out of the car, I noticed my hands were trembling and stuck them in my pockets, mirroring my father's pose. Walking toward my father, I was surprised to see his hair had gone gray, his face was wrinkled, and yet he looked the same. A strange sense of familiarity settled over me.

  “Been a long damn time,” he said gruffly, looking past me, his curious gaze resting on my son. “Who’s the kid?”

  “Noah,” I said softly, taking my son’s hand in mine. “This is your grandfather.”

  Hearing his own name, my father’s eyes widened with pleasure and met mine, this time clouded with emotion.

  I stared at him, wondering why I suddenly felt so different. Where was that urge to run?

  My father cleared his throat and gestured toward the house. “The boy must be hungry,” he said. “Got some fixin’s for sandwiches inside.”

  “I’m so hungry,” Noah complained and I watched the corner of my father’s mouth lift.

  “Well, come on in,” my father said, and Noah released my hand and took off running. He waited for my father to open the front door for him, then he immediately slipped underneath my father’s arm and disappeared inside the house.

  Pausing, my father turned around to look at me. “Cute kid,” he said. “You comin’ in, girl?”

  Nodding, I started down the walk and just as I reached the two front steps, my father placed his large hand on my shoulder. Startled, I turned toward him.

  “Welcome home, Olivia.”

  That’s when I realized nothing had changed. Not my dad, not the town, nothing…except me.

  So yeah, you can go home again. You just have to grow up first.

  And I thought as I smiled at my father, maybe I should give my drummer a call.

  ~~~

  Madeline Sheehan, a Social Distortion enthusiast and devoted fan of body art, has been writing books since she was seven years old. She is the author of The Holy Trinity ebook trilogy and Best Selling Undeniable Series. Homegrown in Buffalo, New York, Madeline resides there with her husband and son.

  www.madelinesheehan.com

  BREAK OUT

  Brei Betzold

  Sixteen year old Neveah Jacob has one interest in life, drag racing, well that and the guy that will never acknowledge her existence. The summer she turns sixteen changes things for her though. Some dreams are brought to fruition while other are demolished before her eyes.

  ~~~

  I took a deep breath and held it, watching the lights tick down, slowly rolling, setting off the pre-staged lights and let the breath out, going a little further to set off the staged light. I pulled in another breath and watched as the lights blinked down the tree, the final countdown light slamming the accelerator button. The red light lit up, I let out the air I was still holding on a groan.

  “Why can’t I get this today?” I whined to myself while resetting the Christmas tree. I had been drag racing for as long as I could remember, but the Christmas tree had always been my bane of existence. I was a habitual red lighter, and if I didn’t red light, my reaction times were horrible. I had yet to find that timing.

  “Neveah,” my mama called.

  I sighed and shut down what I was working on, no need in starting yet another argument with her.

  “Coming,” I called back and pushed myself off the purple couch in my room. I hated this room; it was decorated for the girl my mama wanted me to be, not who I was. Mama had decorated it in light purples, pinks, and butterflies. I preferred my room at Daddy’s house that he let me decorate myself. I liked the dark blues and greys, car parts littering the desk, and posters hanging on my walls. In this room, it felt like
I was visiting the alternate version of myself, and I didn’t like that girl very much.

  “Neveah,” Mama screamed.

  I quickly ran out of my room and down the stairs of the plantation style house Mama and her new husband had purchased before their wedding last year. No matter how much I tried, this place was not home to me, much to my mother’s chagrin.

  “Yes, Mama,” I said sweetly hoping to ward off whatever trouble I was in this time.

  “Finally,” she huffed looking me over and scowling. “What are you wearing?” she screeched. “We have to be at the club in fifteen minutes.”

  I scratched my temple trying to remember why I was being dragged to her country club and came up blank. I looked down at my worn out chucks, torn jeans, and T-shirt wondering if I could get away with refusing to change, then quickly changing my mind. No point in starting a fight over clothes, something else would come up shortly that I would find worth fighting my mama about, it always did.

  “Uhm, I forgot.” I hedged. “Let me run up and change.”

  “Hurry, and wear that pink sundress I bought for you,” she ordered flicking her fingers at me—guess I was dismissed.

  I turned and ran back up the stairs to my room rolling my eyes at the thought of wearing a dress, let alone a pink dress. One more day, I reminded myself, one more day then I could go home. Daddy had promised that he and my brother Ravi would be home tomorrow for my birthday, I just had to get through the rest of the day and dinner at the club. I smiled at the thought of what tomorrow would bring, my sixteenth birthday and with that, my driver’s license. I had one month left of the summer before school started, and I needed that time to get the two licenses I would need so I could race for real. The best part was that I had four weeks with Daddy while he traveled to race his funny crew, so I got to do my test runs with him along the way.

  I found the dress Mama wanted me to wear and I quickly changed into it, adding a pair of flip-flops she was going to hate and readjusting my ponytail. I was all set to go, although I would have to hear Mama complain the entire time, I just didn’t care about all that make up, clothes, shoes, and stuff she did. My older sister Chloe was a mini version of my mama though. I ran back down the stairs where Mama and her new husband Cliff were standing in the foyer. They both eyed me up and down, Mama scowled, shook her head then stomped off towards the front door. I shrugged and followed her, Cliff with his usual confused look on his face followed.

  Cliff and Mama had been married a little over a year now, with Cliff I inherited two step siblings Everett who was off at LSU and Emily who graduated with Chloe this year. My older brother, Ravi, worked for Dad on his pit crew. Ravi and I were close, Chloe and me, not so much. I didn’t really know my step siblings, Everett was never around and Emily was a snobby bitch much like my real sister. I climbed into the backseat of Cliff’s car. I was so ready for my birthday tomorrow; I would no longer be dependent on others for rides. I hated riding in cars other people drove. I had been driving since I was two and Daddy put me in my first go-kart. I had fallen in love immediately, and I still was. As soon as I was old enough, I was racing junior dragsters competitively.

  My mama decided that I couldn’t race this summer, she wanted me to get ready for my coming out instead. She and Daddy had fought over it, but eventually they came up with the compromise that I would spend part of the summer going to the classes the other part with Daddy at the track. What Mama didn’t know was that Daddy was going to help me get the licenses for NHRA and IHRA while I was with him. I was still pissed off at Mama for making me stay home and go to the stupid lessons. I was the reigning champion and she had stopped me from retaining my crown. Why did I need to know the correct way to curtsey, walk down stairs, or perfect a waltz? None of that would help me not red light.

  We pulled up in front of the club, all of us climbing out. I headed in while Cliff handed his car off to the valet. Mama wrapped her red claws into my arm stopping me.

  “Don’t embarrass me,” she demanded quietly.

  “Then you shouldn’t have made me come,” I replied just as quietly.

  Cliff walked up so she released me and he escorted us into the dining room where a lot of people screamed surprise at me. I jumped and looked around forcing a smile on my face. My mama had thrown me a surprise party with all the people I hated from school—lovely. I looked around at all the people my mama wanted me to be friends with and found the one face I really didn’t want to see—Landon Shipley. Landon was drop dead gorgeous, and he knew it. He’d also decided that last year I was going to be his girlfriend, regardless that I wanted nothing to do with the douche bag. I was going to spend the night dodging him and talking to the fake popular people from my high school.

  Luckily, I spotted the bright red hair of my best friend, Audree, bopping around, which got a real smile out of me. Audree and I had met in kindergarten when she beat up a first grader who was pulling my pig tail. We had been inseparable ever since.

  “Neveah,” Landon purred and I gagged.

  “Hello Landon,” I said trying to sound less repulsed than I felt.

  “Happy birthday, sweetheart,” he murmured leaning down to give me a kiss; I quickly turned my head so he got my cheek instead.

  “Landon,” I growled.

  “One of these days, sweetheart,” he whispered before walking off.

  “One of these days and I will shove my foot—” I muttered.

  “Neveah,” my mom scolded.

  I took off in search of Audree, sticking close to her was my only chance in making this alive unscathed. She had an uncanny knack of running through all types of crowds of people. Me on the other hand, I had my small group of friends and I was good with that.

  Small arms wrapped around me hugging me tightly, “Happy birthday, Jake,” Audree whispered so no one else heard that name. My life can be split in two by which name I was being called, if I was with Mama and being molded into the debutante, I was Neveah. If I was with Daddy and my friends I was Jake, I preferred being Jake. Jake listened to heavy metal music, raced cars, cussed, and had fun. Neveah learned how to sit down in a skirt without flashing a room and to be some rich man’s arm candy. I would never be some guy’s arm candy.

  I turned around and hugged Audree back and whispered, “Help me” to her covertly.

  Audree giggled, “I have a surprise for you.” Then grabbed my hand and dragged me across the room.

  “Where are we going?” I asked trying not to face plant.

  “Follow me,” she called back still dragging me.

  “I don’t under—” I cut off with a squeal and ran to where my older brother Ravi was standing and launched myself into his arms. He caught me like always and hugged me close.

  “I missed you, Jake,” he said when I finally let go of him and he put me down eyeing over my pink dress with a raised eyebrow.

  “I missed you too,” I told him. “I can’t wait until tomorrow, when’s Daddy supposed to be home?”

  “He’s already home, he said to come over as soon as you woke up and he’d take you to the DMV.”

  I squealed again kissing my brother on the cheek.

  He laughed at my antics and slung an arm around my shoulders. That’s when I noticed the girl that had been standing next to him.

  “Jake, let me introduce…I’m sorry what’s your name again?” Ravi asked and I had to bite my cheek to keep from laughing at the girl’s crestfallen face.

  “Brenda,” she said coolly.

  “Ah yes Brenda, Brenda, this is my baby sister, Jake.”

  “Nice to meet you, Jake,” she said sneering at my name.

  “You too, Brenda,” I replied.

  “Neveah,” my mom said marching towards me, and I groaned softly.

  “Oh Ravi, I didn’t know you’d be here,” she said sweetly. She was always sweet to Ravi and Chloe, it was her youngest daughter she had problems with.

  “Mama,” he said softly kissing her on the cheek.

  “When’d y
ou get back in town?”

  “This evening, I didn’t want to miss Jake’s party.”

  “Oh of course, Neveah you’re ignoring your guests,” she admonished.

  I opened my mouth to inform my mother that these weren’t my guests but Ravi leaned over and whispered in my ear, “One more night, Jake, one more night.” I nodded then followed my mother to go and play nice for the evening, but day dreaming of asphalt, tire smoke, and the smell of nitrous.

  * * *

  The pounding on the door woke me, and I groaned wanting to throw something at the person who dared to wake me up from the cocoon of my blankets. I pulled the pillow over my head trying to drown them out; they’d get tired eventually and go bug someone else. I was wrong. The next thing I know my blankets, with me rolled up in them were dragged to the floor. I landed with a plop, already fighting my way out; I was about to kick someone ass. Didn’t they realize it was summer, I didn’t have to get up at the butt crack of dawn.

  “Get your ass up, birthday girl.” I heard a familiar voice growl at me.

  “Ravi,” I yelled finally disentangling myself from my sheets. “What is your problem?”

  He grinned down at me while I shoved some of my dark hair out of my face, then blew at the remaining relentless pieces only for them to fall back into my face. Then he did the worst possible rendition of the birthday song ever heard. I’m not sure who told my twenty year old brother singing in falsetto was a good idea, but either they needed to have their hearing tested or a reward for this, I only wished I had videoed it. By the time he was finished, I was laughing so hard I was crying while trying to cover my ears from their torture.

  I beamed up at my brother. “It’s my birthday.”

  “Yep.”

  “You know what that means, right?”

  “Uhm, that we get to treat you like the princess you are all day?”

  “No,” I growled. “I get to go with you and Daddy for a month.”

  “Damn, I was hoping you forgot about that,” he grumbled trying to hide his smile.