Fade to Black (The Black Trilogy Book 1)

by MC Webb

  This pronouncement made me sad.

  “I’m not lost now, Nana. I’m where I’m supposed to be. I’m married and I’m home with you and Papaw. I’m happy, so, please, don’t worry anymore,” I tried to convince her.

  By the way she eyed me, I could tell she was still unconvinced.

  “Are you? I want to believe you married for love, but I know you too good to believe that. Tell me, love.” She placed a cold hand on mine, and said, “Tell me, what’s going through your head right now.”

  I folded my property note and set it aside. I lay down beside my Nana and told her the truth, or most of it.

  “I tried to look ahead and prepare for what’s real. If I had to keep up the land by myself, I couldn’t. I want to make for certain that you and Papaw are okay. Financially taken care of.”

  I couldn’t admit that I didn’t love Jean-Paul, at least not out loud, because I had said vows that made that a sin.

  “Matthew is all I ever planned on. He was my one true love, and he’s gone. Never coming back. I guess I thought Jean-Paul is the best I’ll ever get, and he has the means to take care of our land, so we won’t ever have to lose it.”

  I felt better now that I had confessed this to her. Nana turned slightly and asked me to look at her. Our lives were so consumed with her cancer, her medications, and nurse visits that it wasn’t until Josh visited that I realized Nana felt we did not include her in our lives anymore, and this was the very reason why she had wanted to keep her sickness from us.

  My telling her what she already knew reinforced her place in my life, the way it should be. Nana coughed and sipped her water before she responded.

  “Piper, do you believe in love?”

  I nodded

  “I used to, but I’ve already had my one true love.”

  Nana signed sadly.

  “I loved a boy once, before Nathaniel. I know what you mean, but I’m where I am supposed to be. Not because I was told to be. This world,” and she gestured broadly to the ceiling, “will try and put you in a box. This is that way, and that is this way, and so on and so on. Piper, you do what you want and nothing else. If you do the things that the world expects of you, there will be no evolving into the woman God put you here to be.”

  Nana paused to catch her breath. I wanted desperately to give her relief from the smothering effects of her cancer. It was robbing her of life. I was helpless, useless, as I watched the days take her slowly from us all. She waved away my offer of water.

  “Do you understand what I’m telling you?” she asked in earnest.

  I nodded. “I think so,” I said, but Nana shook her head.

  “My family disowned me when I divorced my first husband.”

  I frowned.

  “What?” I asked, shocked.

  Nana nodded.

  “I married the man my family wanted me to. I did love him, or thought I did. It lasted maybe six months, and I got out of there. Turned out he liked boys better than me, and my family, especially my mother, thought I should keep my mouth shut and live with it.” Nana shrugged. “I was with my father the day I met your papaw, trying to earn a place in the family again. I was trying to be a good daughter. That fact is, if I’d stayed with my first husband I’d never have left Germany, and I’d never know these hills, or you, love.” Nana smiled causing the creases around her mouth to deepen.

  “You’ve never told me this. Why?”

  Nana’s eyebrows rose.

  “Because it’s neither here nor there. It was non-essential information, at least until now. I fear you have married young because you felt it was the ‘right’ thing to do. I’m not saying I know your heart, love, I’m only saying, don’t ever pass up an opportunity to live, and I mean live. Love, you haven’t been living lately. Those pills have you so numb, I’m not sure you know how you feel,” she said this gently, without judgment.

  I looked down at my hands, ashamed.

  “I’m sorry, Nana,” was all I could say.

  “Promise me, Piper, that you will live? You will laugh and cry. You will dance and sing in the rain? You’re here for a reason.”

  She placed her finger on the old bedspread, and I took her meaning. “Here” meant breathing, lucky to be alive. I nodded, but said nothing.

  “You will stop numbing yourself with pills?” she asked, and I promised, meaning it.

  I felt guilty the last few weeks whenever I took something. That was a feeling I’d never associated with my “medicine” as Lana called it.

  “What should I do, Nana? I’m married. Are you saying I shouldn’t stay that way?” I asked, confused now.

  “No, love, I’m saying you need to do what you feel. It may be you love Jean-Paul, but I don’t think you have allowed yourself to know what you feel.” She brushed a hair from my eye. “You don’t deliver babies because I wanted you to, do you?”

  I shook my head, “No. I do it because I love it.”

  Nana smiled. “Just as long as it’s what you want, love, and the same goes for your marriage. Just take the time to feel, Piper. That’s all I’m asking.”

  I hugged her, noting how small she felt.

  “I will, Nana. I promise.”

  Papaw came in then. I wasn’t sure if he had heard the conversation or not, but he gave me a meaningful look.

  “I’ll let you rest now, Nana,” I told her, and went to check on the kitchen.

  Nana was cheerful and sprite. I would listen, as she and Papaw talked at night. Just rumbles through the closed door, but I knew them enough to know they were enjoying their time together. They were old friends, as well as lovers. They’d had over forty years together. They buried their only child, and raised their grandchildren as their own.

  I knew Jean-Paul and I would never be this way. I accepted it. We just didn’t have what you would call a loving relationship. It was very formal. I would take the time to get to know my feelings about him. I owed it to him. I had taken the plunge, so now it was sink or swim.

  We agreed to put off our honeymoon until a more fitting time. This included the sex. We would wait until we had time to spend with each other which was fine with me. I was taking care of Nana now, while running a house and delivering babies. I had enough credits to graduate, and I opted out of the ceremony. I made house calls to expectant mothers, but for the most part, I wanted them to be here in the birthing room.

  It was neither an everyday thing, nor an every week thing. It was however, enough to keep me busy. I was trying not to take so many pills, or smoke as much weed. I wanted to be alert while I took care of Nana, and I had made her a promise.

  I took a little less each day, to help with the cravings my body would feel. Lana was telling me almost daily now that she was leaving town soon. I was aware that she was waiting until Nana was gone, and I loved my friend more for staying with me through it. I knew who would sell me what drugs if I wanted them, when I no longer had Lana running for me. When she would bring up leaving, I would ignore her, not being able to think of anything but Nana right now.

  Nana was a little worse each day. I couldn’t stand the thought of her leaving me. In May, the doctor sent a nurse to the house who hooked her up to a morphine drip. This kept the worst of the pain from Nana, and I could see just moving was excruciating. I hated for her to have the needles in her, but took comfort in her not hurting as much.

  At the end of the month, my graduation came and went without me. I had not been to school since the night at the ER. Instead, I received my license to practice as a certified midwife. Nana beamed with pride, knowing her life’s work would continue through me.

  I did not bring up the not being able to have babies because when I told Jean-Paul this news he simply smiled and said, “Well, I always wanted my bloodline to end with me anyway.”

  I thought this odd, but he was odd to me in general, so I didn’t dwell on it. He hugged me, and told me we could adopt.

  One night, I talked to Nana about the cold feeling Jean-Paul gave me from time t
o time.

  “Friendship grows and trust grows, but love is evident from the beginning. It will grow ever stronger and deeper. Love is not something to hope for, but what is.” She looked at me, worried. “You don’t love him.” She shook her head. “You will love again, and it will be evident from the start. There is no substitute, Piper.” She said this very matter-of-factly.

  I didn’t love Jean-Paul. I thought I did, but I only loved what he could give me. He was kind to me and could provide for me the kind of life I would accept in substitute for what I couldn’t have, now that Matthew was dead. What a mess. We talked a little longer, and then Papaw was ready for bed. I hugged and kissed them both.

  As usual, I listened to their muffled voices well into the night. My head wasn’t so fuzzy, and the sharpness was beginning to fill my heart with dread. I had to feel, to live, and right now I didn’t want to feel anything. Yet I fought the urge to step outside and smoke or drink.

  Finally after what felt like hours, I slept, uneasy with my newfound understanding. I woke after what seemed like only five minutes of sleep. I sat up sweating and breathing heavy. I felt Daniel’s hands on me. Someone said my name. I listened hard to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.

  “Piper?” Papaw was saying from the hall.

  “Yes?” I called back shaking all over now.

  “Piper, honey, come. She’s going.”

  I jumped out of bed, my mind chanting No. No. No. No. No. No. No. I got to the room and saw Papaw lift Nana’s hand to his face. He looked up at me, tears streaming.

  “Get your brother,” he said, in a still, quiet voice.

  Nana’s eyes were open, and her breathing was labored. I flew downstairs to the grand room.

  “Nathan!”

  He didn’t answer. I saw him asleep by the light of the TV.

  “Nathan!” I screamed again, but got no answer.

  I hit him in the chest hard.

  “Nathan!” He finally stirred. “Nana’s dying!” I screamed and headed back upstairs.

  I heard him fumbling to get up the stairs behind me. The scene in the bedroom had not changed. Papaw still sat, holding Nana’s hand to his face. My throat squeezed shut. I put my hand to my mouth so as not to scream. One thing I had heard many times in the last few weeks. When it was time, it was time. We were not to rob her of a peaceful exit.

  I shook, standing by the bed, trying to control myself. Nathan held me to his chest, as I quietly sobbed. Lana came in the door. I absently thought she must have either been with Nathan or in my bed without me knowing. I held out my hand to her, as Nana lay motionless, her breath rattling. Lana cried with me. I stood on one side of Nathan, and she on the other. Papaw was statue-still, weeping without moving.

  We stood, the family Nana loved so dearly. Papaw stroked her hair, and a tear slid from her eye.

  “Be at peace, my darling. Be at peace. I will see you soon,” Papaw whispered.

  Nana tried to grin, but the muscles around her mouth no longer cooperated. Then she slipped away. Her eyes slightly parted. The trace of her tears was still visible, and she was gone, gone to be reunited with my dad, gone to my dead baby, gone to Matthew, gone to be with Jesus. Gone from me forever.

  chapter Sixteen

  Ryan ~

  I was wasted. That much I was sure of. That was about all I was sure of. Sixteen straight hours of filming and a bottle of fine whiskey promised a good night’s sleep. Sheldon was on the sofa still playing guitar with Nathan. I loved my best friend, but I also wished he’d go home every now and then.

  Of course, home was his posh London flat with his wife, Beatrice, and three little daughters, Sophia, Rakhel, and Libby. Now that I thought about it, time at my place might be the only peace he got.

  Sheldon and his wife had more money than anyone I knew, yet he lived like a bum when he was with me. One of the things I loved about my friend was that you would think him normal, or close to it.

  Honestly though, Beatrice was related to royals, and hers was one of the oldest families in England. Sheldon was one-third heir to a shipping company. Mix the two, and you had wealth beyond measure. I knew this, but most of the world thought of Sheldon only as my sidekick.

  He was that as well, but the guy was smart, funny, and one hell of a musician. Most nights I loved him, just not so much tonight. I could hear the high pitch of his laughter, no matter how loud I turned up my music. I jammed a finger at the iPod to shuffle but still heard the pair of them.

  Sheldon and I spent most of our youth roaming the street of streets of West Hollywood trying to make money with acting to support our blues “band” which was me on the guitar or piano and Sheldon on bass. After meeting by chance at the same commercial auditioning, Sheldon and I have rarely apart.

  On a wild hair one night I left my hometown of Elko Nevada and rode in the back of a pickup with four other teenagers to Hollywood, simply because I was bored.

  The girl I was with at the time was sixteen, and at fourteen, I could not say no when she asked if I’d go while she tried out for a small role in a TV movie. While waiting on her a receptionist asked if I had ever acted and would I be interested?

  Twenty minutes later, I walked out with two hundred and fifty dollars and Sheldon as my new costar and best friend.

  I was born Robert Thomas Pierce, but legally changed that to Ryan Knox as soon as an agent told me it was a much cooler. I am a Ryan and try daily to forget any other existence before. After that first commercial, I never looked back to the life of poverty in Elko.

  The broken life of a little sister killed by hit and run as she followed me across the street. The tragedy caused my mother to abandon me and my father. I spent several years being blamed for my sister’s death and cannot recall a life before I was a fault. My father spent day and night sipping beer from the moment my mother left without warning so when I was invited to Hollywood, I jumped at the chance to escape.

  I didn’t count on the possibility that I would act beyond a hair commercial, except to fund our band. I found myself starring in a movie that next year and the band took a backseat to the sudden demand of film making.

  Sheldon was an incredible musician and lived the rebellious opposite his parents intended. Tattooed and grungy with all-night jam sessions is what he preferred to years at Oxford.

  That’s been several years ago and my music abilities are no longer a factor as my film career has taken over my life. I’m passed the point of ever being able to do anything else. Not that I don’t like acting, it just wasn’t what I set out to do and now I don’t feel I can do anything else.

  Nathan laughed bringing me sharply out of the daze like sleep I was about to enter. I rolled over pushing my face into the pillow. Why did I not just stay at hotel while they were both in town? I’d met Nathan Mitchell a couple of years before on location in Nashville. He was visiting the set with Sheldon, and we became instant friends. Nathan was an extraordinary musician. He recorded a couple of pieces for the film, then came and went like the seasons.

  Sheldon acted in small roles, but only because he liked it that way. He said acting took too much of his time, and he could not “invest” in the demanding roles that flooded his unanswered inbox. He drove his agent crazy.

  I was envious of Sheldon’s talents. I had to work many years to achieve the kind of fame that came so easily to my friend. Right now, he was using his God-given talents with Nathan’s God-given talents. The combination was amazing. They would be sleeping, then they’d head off to some venue singing the blues tomorrow, and I’d board a plan to LA in the morning.

  I didn’t know how I got in this position, and certainly couldn’t find my way back. Would I if I could? An accidental actor just goofing off to pay for my band? Now I was in too deep to do anything else.

  Finally, somewhere between the Stones and Elvis, I slept hard. At five in the morning, Viola was shaking me awake.

  “Hurry, man! Get your ass up!”

  I slowly opened a heavy eye. She was throwing clo
thes in a bag, grabbing this or that off shelves, not paying any attention to the condition of the garments. I pulled myself up knowing Viola would have no mercy on me.

  “At least I don’t have to dress,” I said, trying to make her happy about one thing. I failed.

  She waved her hand back and forth.

  “Jesus Christ, it smells like you’ve been eating a hippopotamus ass all night. Brush your teeth before you kill somebody!”

  That shut me up, and put me in a foul mood. I grudgingly brushed my teeth, threw a hat on my head, and headed for the door, Viola fussing all the while. I glimpsed Nathan and Sheldon passed out on my couches. I wanted to be one of them, just for a day.

  “Okay, put this on,” Viola demanded.

  I put on the jacket she tossed me, and followed my five-two-in-three-inch heels, black-haired, tatted-up assistant into the elevator.

  “Tell me again why you live in this shit hole?” Viola asked, holding the rail as we went down four floors in the wobbly elevator.

  “Because it’s cheap and private,” I said, from the depths of my bad mood.

  “Here.” She handed me four Motrin and water. “You look like you were beat with an ugly stick. Roger will have your ass if you’re late again.”

  I swallowed the pills as the elevator opened. We got in a car, and headed to the airport.

  “Molly is already there, waiting”

  I snorted, “Good for her.”

  Viola ignored me.

  “Here’s your schedule, and tell me what you want for breakfast.”

  I glanced at the paper, and folded it down to a two-inch square, then shoved it in my pocket.

  “Whatever. I’m not hungry,” was my reply.

  It seemed all I did was fly from state to state, and eat—other than acting in major motion pictures, that is. I had yet to get a lead role. I was always attached to some other actor, and I was sick of it. These swooning teenage dramas. I wanted to do something besides make the studios richer. At twenty two I was more than ready to do a lead mob style film, but was told repeatedly I was too pretty, or too baby faced.

  “What crawled up your ass and died?” Viola did not appreciate my lack of interest in her goings-on. I looked at her squarely.