by Zoey Derrick
“Yeah? I hear you’re some big shot in Phoenix.”
“Where’d you hear that?”
He laughs. “I have ears, man, and I read the paper, though if I hadn’t seen the picture of you to go along with it I would’ve never known it was you. You changed your name?”
I shake my head. “Nah, man, I just ditched Richards.”
“Good, Cole works better for you anyway. So what’s going on?”
“Forget about me, how are you?” I redirect him. I don’t want to get into how miserable I am and how talking to my high school best friend isn’t going to make that any better.
“I’m great. I’m running my own shop in Chicago, business is good. I got married about three years ago. We have a six week old baby girl named Emma.” Six weeks, Chicago, she’s been there.
“Wow, man, that’s awesome. I’m really happy for you. I’ll have to come up to Chicago and meet your family.”
“Do me a favor though?” he asks.
“What’s that?”
“Go home and cheer my sister up, will you? That girl’s gonna kill me.”
Go home? Joplin. “How long has she been there? Last I heard she was in Phoenix.”
“Yeah, idiot, same city you’re in. You know, I swear to god, Dyson, she never got over you. When she was here to see Emma, she looked like hell. I just came back from there a couple days ago and she’s, yeah, she’s in bad shape, but she won’t tell me what the hell’s wrong with her.”
“Shit, man, I’m so sorry.” Sorry doesn’t cut it. This is my doing, and I know it.
“Nah, it’s all good. I think mom…shit, did you hear about mom?”
I close my eyes. “Yeah, man, I saw it in the paper, my mom saw it too.”
“My god, why didn’t you guys come to the funeral?” His voice is soft, upset.
“Honestly, I didn’t know until after it was over, about a week or so. My mom knew, and when I asked her about it, she said she’d have felt like she was intruding on you guys. She hadn’t been around for so long, she didn’t feel it was right.”
“Ah man, I’m sorry. Would have loved to have both of you there.” I hear him shuffle his phone then say something to someone. “Listen, man, I gotta run, is this your number?”
“It is.” I confirm.
“Good, been wondering how to reach you for a while now. If you’re serious about coming to Chi-town, holler, we’d love to have you. Anna would love to meet you.”
I smile into the phone. “I’d like that.”
“Good, later, man.”
“Bye.” I hang up with Dusty and my heart swells with hope. I know where she is and she’s okay, other than being a basket case, and all things considered, I’d be one too. I just hope her pain is not all caused by me.
My doorbell rings and I look at the clock, it’s eight, Cami’s normal stop over time. At least today, I have news for her. I bound down the stairs and open the door. “I should just leave it open for you,” I tell her and she gives me a sad smile. “Come in, I have some news.”
“What?” Her shock is evident, both in her face and in her voice.
“I just talked to her brother.”
“Oh my god, has he talked to her?”
I smile a little wider, hope blossoming inside of me. “He saw her a few days ago, said she looked like shit.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. Where is she?”
I snort. “She went home. The one place I didn’t bother to look because I never expected her to go back there.”
“Where’s home?”
“Joplin, Missouri,” I tell Cami.
“Will you let me go? Let me have some time with her?”
“If you promise to bring her home,” I tell her sadly.
“I won’t promise that, but I will do everything in my power to do just that.” She smiles. “I’ll leave tomorrow.”
“How much time do you need?”
“I have no idea. One of two things is going to happen. She’s either going to accept me into her home or shut me out. If she shuts me out, I’ll keep trying. If she accepts me, I don’t know. Why?”
“Because tomorrow is her birthday.”
“Oh shit. That I didn’t know.”
“And next week is the anniversary of when I left her. I’d really like to have her back in my arms on the ten year anniversary, if that’s okay with you.” My voice is somber, but it’s the truth and she sees it in my eyes.
“I will do everything I can to make that happen. One way or another.”
“Good. I’m counting on you,” I tell her and she smiles. “You have my number. Call me if you need anything. It’s a small town, and I’d give you my mother’s house but no one has been it in years. It’s a mess.”
“No worries, I’m hoping she’ll let me stay with her, if not, I’ll find a hotel or something.”
With that, she leaves, headed for her home and to tell her husband the news we’ve been waiting for what feels like forever to hear. Now I just have to hope that Cami is the antidote to all things Ireland and bringing her home.
Chapter 65
IRELAND
“Everything” - Lifehouse
“No fucking way…” I stare down at the row of sticks on my counter. I count them in my head. There are ten of them, and all ten of them say the same fucking thing over and over again.
“God, why does this feel like my mother all over again?” I groan as I look at the pink and blue plus signs, then the three different digital tests all flashing the same result over and over again. “Happy birthday to me,” I groan as my doorbell rings. Panic surfaces quickly and before I think about it, I’m sweeping ten positive pregnancy tests into my trash can.
“Who the hell would be here?” You can freak out later. Right? You can get through this, huh? Yup, you’ll survive this. The inner pep talk continues as I walk toward the door. I see an unfamiliar, unassuming car in the driveway. It has Missouri plates so I don’t think much of it when I open the door.
I stand there, blinking like an idiot. “Did he send you here?”
She laughs, “No, I came on my own.”
“It’s a bit odd, don’t you think?” I ask her.
She nods. “It is, but I assure you there is a reason for my visit. Can I come in?”
I hold the door open, letting the petite woman step inside my mother’s home. The oddness of having her here is beyond strange, but I let it go. “What can I do for you, Cami?”
“Got anything to drink? We’re gonna need it. We need to talk,” she says, her voice soft, her eyes gentle. I nod and go to the kitchen.
“I just have wine, is that alright?”
“Perfect.” She smiles and I realize I can’t drink wine anymore. Fuck. This is going to suck ass. I have the feeling she’s here to discuss Dyson with me and I’m not ready to talk about him, not yet, and not today. “Happy birthday, by the way,” she says.
“Uh, thank you. How’d you know?”
She smirks and winks at me. “I have my sources.”
I shake my head and grab a wine glass out of the dish rack and the bottle of wine from the counter and pour her a glass before pouring myself a glass of apple juice. I have a feeling I’m going to need a drink. “I love this house,” she says from the living room.
“Thanks, it was my mother's. I’ve been cleaning and painting it since I came home,” I tell her as I hand her a glass of wine.
“You’re not drinking?” she asks and I shake my head.
“I’ve been drinking way too much these last few weeks,” I tell her by way of an acceptable explanation. “You’re a long way from home to wish me a happy birthday, Cami. What can I do for you?”
“Can we sit?” she asks.
“You’re stalling.”
“How long have we known each other?” she asks quickly.
“A while. We met in college, though you were nearly done, what fifth year, six? Then I started going to Blu and ran into you again, so, what, five years maybe? Why?”
“I just want to make sure we’re friends.”
“Of course we’re friends. Why wouldn’t we be?” I pause a moment. “Did something happen with Tristan?”
“Oh no, we’re good. Well, as good as he can be considering he’s watching me like a hawk making sure I don’t bolt again.” I raise an eyebrow at her, encouraging her to continue. “I like to run away when shit gets too real.”
“I can’t imagine anything that would drive you away from Tristan, or your son, Cami. Is this something you want to talk about?” Because god knows I do not want to talk about Dyson, I add in my head.
“We have a mutual friend,” she tells me.
“Dyson, I know. But I thought you weren’t here because of him.”
“I’m not and he’s a mutual friend, but not the reason I’m here.” She is being evasive and it’s starting to piss me off. I don’t want to play fucking games anymore.
“Spit it out, Cami. Seriously, all this brow beating is making me fucking bonkers.”
I watch as her eyes darken, her body stiffens. “God, you’re just like your father.”
Her phrase sends me back and I land in one of the chairs in the living room. “What did you say?”
“I didn’t want to be so fucking harsh about it, but damn, girl.”
“How do you know my father?” I narrow my eyes at her. She repeats the same look and it looks just like me.
“Because you’re my sister.” Her voice softens. “Robert Enders is my father. My maiden name is Enders.”
My stomach rolls. I swallow it back. What she’s telling me has nothing to do with why my stomach is rolling around like someone set off a butterfly explosion and I don’t want to go running to the toilet just this second.
“Are you alright?” Her voice is full of concern and I shake my head, throwing myself out of the chair and darting down the hallway until I get to the bathroom. “Ireland?” Cami calls.
She comes running after me as I lose my breakfast into the toilet.
She snickers. “I didn’t realize having a sister could be so upsetting,” she teases. “Or does it have something to do with the fact you kissed your brother-in-law like he was your next meal ticket.”
The memory of that night in Blu, the night I kneed Dyson, comes racing back to me. I kissed Tristan in an effort to make Dyson jealous and failed miserably because I had no idea they knew each other. “I kissed my brother-in-law? Oh god.” I retch again. She scoops up my hair and pulls it out of my way.
“You’re forgiven, by the way. You’re lucky I’m not the jealous type, otherwise, you know?” Her voice is a million times lighter than it was when she came in twenty minutes ago. I feel her stiffen behind me and my eyes happen to land on the trashcan I dumped all those tests into. They’re hard to miss. “So, I don’t make you sick?” I can’t see it, but I can hear her smile.
“No, far from it actually. Though I guess I never expected my first sisterly bonding experience to come when I was puking into the toilet.” I try to laugh and fail. “So…” I lean back and she releases my hair. I need a minute to recover so I sit down on the floor and flush the toilet. “You’re my sister, huh?”
She shrugs like it’s no big deal. “I guess so.”
“How are you so calm about all this?” I ask her, unable to wrap my brain around it.
“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up, then we can talk.” She stands, holding out her hands to me and I take them as she helps me up. My head is still a little dizzy but it’s getting better and I brush my teeth before leaving the bathroom. I find her in the kitchen dumping out her wine glass.
“Don’t like it?” I ask.
She chuckles and turns. “I didn’t try any. I was hoping you wouldn’t notice I wasn’t drinking it, and then you came back with apple juice and…”
I cock an eyebrow, questioning her. “Seriously? You too?”
She smiles a wide, gorgeous smile that reminds me of sunshine and happier days. “Shh, Tristan’s the only one who knows. I’m only about eight weeks.”
I count backward in my head. “Well, maybe we really are sisters. If all ten of those tests are accurate, I was only with Dyson for about a week, about seven weeks ago.”
“So you haven’t told him yet?”
I snort. “I haven’t even processed it. Literally, my doorbell rang and I tossed them all in the trash. I was staring at them like a moron.”
She laughs again, “I did the same thing. But then, I ran.” She crosses her arms over her chest, staring at me. “You have to tell him.”
“Gah.” I throw my hands up in frustration. “I don’t want to tell him anything. I just want to sit here in my own little piece of happy and be happy.”
Cami bursts out laughing. “You look like shit. You have no food in your house, the house is immaculately spotless, and you’re going fucking crazy sitting in this house day in and day out. You have millions of dollars in the bank and you want to start spending every fucking penny of it. You want to run around like a crazy woman but instead, you hole up here, wallowing in your self-pity while the reason for existing sits in Phoenix without you.”
“I’m not sure how to take that statement,” I scowl at her.
“It’s fucking true and you know it.”
“Well, aren’t we just a big old anger-ball.” I stick my tongue out at her and she explodes in laugher. It’s infectious and I can’t help laughing too.
I throw my hands up. “What do I do?”
She smiles. “You go home. You walk up to his door and you grovel at his feet. Kiss them if you have to.”
“I hurt him so bad.”
“I think he understands you more than you realize. See, Dyson is a lot like Tristan. He understands that women need their space. This is why I’m here and not him,” she tells me. “He’s the one who told me where you were.”
“How’d he find out?” I ask, honestly curious.
“Apparently he called an old friend,” she says sweetly.
“Dusty.”
“He’s your brother?” I nod. “Well, sometimes siblings know best,” she winks.
“I still don’t understand how you’re so cool with all this.”
“Sit down and let me tell you a story.”
Cami ushers me to the couch and she starts talking about Bobby and what it was like to grow up with him. It wasn’t sunshine and roses for her either. But she talks about it freely and openly, like she’s processed all the pain it’s caused her and we talk until the early morning hours.
Talking to Cami was like talking to my best friend. She listened, was attentive, didn’t interrupt unless she thought I was being an idiot, which she pointed out I was when it came to the package Mick had given me. She said the only thing in there that was going to scare me was the amount of money in my inheritance. She said she didn’t know how much it was, but if it was anything like hers then it was a lot more than the nine-million I received from Dyson.
The next morning I am making coffee when she comes into the kitchen. She slept in my mom’s room, after some arguing, but I convinced her it was okay and that’s true, it was. When I got up, I grabbed the big bad bundle of avoidance and set it on the breakfast bar with the intention of opening it up when coffee was done.
“You’re finally going to do it, aren’t you?” she asks when she takes a seat next to the file.
“Morning to you too. Coffee?”
She yawns, “Yes, please.”
“I don’t do the half and half thing. I’m a creamer kind of girl.”
She smiles wide. “Me too.”
I slide her a cup and follow it up with the creamer, then I pour the remaining pot into an insulated decanter and start another pot. I have a feeling we’re going to need it. “You’re lucky,” she says as I sit down.
“Why is that?” I ask.
“My package was full of disks and a ton of other shit and I had to sit and watch them all. I was quite the masochist when it came to all my drama, but the issue I had was I was di
scovering he was still alive.” She pauses, takes a sip of her coffee. “Well, I guess it’s not much different, only I lived through the funeral.”
“I found a letter, in my box of shit, from him. He was telling my mother he had to go away for a while and he didn’t know when or if he’d be back. It was dated in twenty-eleven.”
She nods. “That would be when it happened.”
“Why though? That’s what I don’t understand.”
“Do you know anything about Bold International?” she asks me.
“A little. I’d done some research on it before I graduated, when I was looking for jobs. I wasn’t sure I wanted to dive into celebrities, so I stuck with business management and marketing.”
She winks. “Wise choice. Celebrities are a breed all their own. Tristan is no exception, though maybe a little. Being famous is not his ideal lifestyle and he does all he can to avoid it. This is why we live in Phoenix most of the time. But aside from that, they’re different animals. The long and the short of it is Bobby walked in on something he was never meant to see. What he saw was something that put him in pretty deep with a Mexican cartel. The feds stepped in and helped clean it up in exchange for his testimony. I understand now why Bobby did a lot of the things he did when it came to me, you, our brother. He was determined to protect us all, but in reality, he was hurting us more. He saw that with me, I was hoping he’d learned his lesson, but apparently not.”
“I get the feeling, from the letters, my mom wouldn’t let him back in. It was a few years ago, something shifted in his letters, I was still pretty young.”
“That would be when my mother died.”
“Oh Cami, I’m sorry.”
She chokes on her coffee. “Don’t be. My mother was a bitch, literally. No one cried when she died.”
“Ouch, that had to hurt.”
“In hindsight, my father did what he did to protect me. He did the same for you, just for different reasons. Just remember that. It doesn’t mean you have to like him or know him, it just means that while he threw money at your mom, he didn’t know any other way to handle the situation. He wasn’t going to let his child grow up in poverty when he could fix the problem.”
