Compass (Siren Songs Book 2)

by Stephie Walls

  “Because we need to go see your parents, and I’m going to see if Cam can get everyone together this afternoon at Healing Wings.”

  “What for?” I love him, but sometimes he’s not the brightest bulb on the porch. I give him a pass since I woke him unexpectedly and just started firing off information.

  “To come clean so we can move forward.”

  We’re nowhere near where we need to be, but I figure the best place to start is confronting this demon together. Attacking it as a team, we have to be stronger in numbers.

  “You know this is going to suck, right?” He lets out a humph and slumps back on the couch—as if I’m not well aware of exactly how bad this is going to be.

  “Yeah. I do. But I also know you have to let go of the guilt you’re holding on to, and you need people who are going to help keep you accountable.”

  “I shouldn’t need that, Piper. I’m a grown man. I know what I have to do. I should be doing it without hesitation.”

  “Maybe, but if you can have a group of people help you why try to face it alone?”

  Staring at nothing in front of him, he nods before turning to me. “You’re not leaving me?” His voice cracks mid-sentence.

  “We’ve got to figure this out, Moby. I can’t keep living like this, but I need to put in as much effort as you do.”

  “You’ve been putting in all the effort.”

  “No, I’ve been doing all the work, I haven’t put effort into our marriage. I’ve been doing chores, paying bills, and going to work. I haven’t been investing in us. Maybe some of the other things aren’t as important and can be set aside for the time being.”

  “My dad is going to bury me, Piper.”

  “Yep. So, let’s get up and get moving. I’m going to call Cam.” I pat him on the leg, indicating there’s no time like the present.

  Finding my phone, I call my boss and best friend, well one of them.

  “Hey, Cam.” Thankfully she’s an early riser. The clock reads five fifty-nine.

  “Is everything okay?” She’s on her third cup of coffee by now.

  “It will be. I need to take the morning off to help Moby deal with some stuff. Do you think you can rally the troops late this afternoon?”

  “I’m sure I can. Are you sure everything’s okay? You guys aren’t calling us all together again to tell us you’re pregnant, are you?” She laughs nervously into the phone. That would be the final straw—a baby in all this mess would be disastrous.

  “No, Cam. I’d have to be having sex to get pregnant and I’m pretty sure I’m not going to be giving the next virgin birth.”

  “You wanna tell me what’s up?”

  I feel like I owe her more because she’s my boss, but I can’t betray Moby either. He needs to do this, and his parents need to be next on the list.

  “Moby just has some things he needs to let everyone know, and before you freak out, he’s fine too. It’s just not my place to speak for him.”

  “I get it. No worries. I’ll see what I can do. You want me to order pizza or something to feed the hordes?”

  My body shakes with laughter, not because anything she said was terribly funny but the thought of all those men in one room—feeding them always makes things easier. It’s like their brains don’t function properly unless there’s food within reach.

  “No. I think they need to be sober for this one.”

  “Ooohhh. Sounds juicy!” I miss just hanging out with my Fish. They know when to be silly and when to pull me back from the ledge. “Oh, hey. While I’m doing favors for you, this weekend is bridesmaid weekend. Don’t forget. Dresses, caterers, cakes, wine, you name it, we’re doing it. And flowers. You guys promised weeks ago.”

  My heart drops at her reminder, as much as I want to go, as much as I need to go, I wonder if the timing isn’t too much for Moby.

  “Go,” he whispers in my ear scaring the shit out of me. When the hell did he become so stealth? I normally hear his cane coming a mile away.

  Turning to him, I mouth the word, “Really?” So Cam can’t hear me seeking permission for a weekend I’ve already committed to.

  “Piper, don’t you dare back out on me!” Her voice rings through the air with the phone pulled away from my face. “You need this as much as I do. Stop trying to think of excuses to continue being a hermit.”

  Bringing the phone back to my ear, I respond, “I’m not, you whore. I’ll be there, but you better have lots of booze and a hotel.”

  “Yep, the plan is dresses first, vendors second, wine tasting and catering in the hotel, and of course, a girls’ night in the penthouse to try out the room and the staff. And tell Moby Dax will pick him up Saturday. They have guy stuff to do, but I don’t know what it is other than tuxes.”

  “I’ll tell him. I’ll see you this afternoon. Send me a text to let me know when everyone will be there.”

  “Will do. Love you, fish stick.”

  I grin at her play on our nicknames. “Love you, goofball.”

  Hanging up the phone, I turn to Moby. “Looks like our weekend is planned for us. I’m sorry, I hadn’t intended to be gone.” I figured Moby and I should try to do something together that didn’t involve work of any kind.

  “You need this, Piper. You need a couple days with your friends, some good girl time with wine. It won’t hurt me to hang out with my brothers either.”

  “You’re right. Let’s get dressed. You want to stop and get breakfast before we go to your parents’ house?” I’m making an effort to show him I’m willing to try. Even though I’m frustrated with him and not attracted to him, I committed to him and need to find a way back to who we were as a couple.

  “Yeah, that’d be nice. It’s always better to throw up with something in your stomach than dry heaving.”

  I playfully smack him on the arm. “Your parents are not going to crucify you.”

  “I think it might be easier if they do. I hate feeling like I’ve disappointed them and I know before I open my mouth, I already have.”

  I don’t have words for him, I can’t tell him differently because I refuse to lie. He chose this bed and now he has to lie in it until we can change the sheets.

  We stop at a little mom and pop diner close to our house before proceeding to his parents’. He sent his dad a text while we were at breakfast to make sure they’d be home. I couldn’t tell if his confirmation put Moby at ease or made him more apprehensive. I wouldn’t be surprised if Moby had been hoping they had left the country unexpectedly.

  I always wonder when we come to the house Moby grew up in how they all lived there. With four kids, three bedrooms might not be too cramped, but with four teenagers, there’s no way two bathrooms would be enough. It’s a simple house in an older neighborhood; very non-descript. Any normal person would drive by without noticing it, but something drew his parents here, and they’ve stayed forever.

  It irritates the crap out of me when Moby rings the doorbell. Every time we come over. He doesn’t have a key to his parents’ house; he doesn’t just walk in, he rings the bell as if he’s a guest instead of their son. His mom answers, ushering us in, escorting us to the living room.

  I watch Patty plant herself on the edge of the couch, her knees pressed together, her hands folded neatly in her lap; prim and proper Patty.

  “We’ll wait for your father, before we start, Moby.” I wonder who she’s putting on the show for. I’m completely indifferent to her act and Moby’s not aware of anything other than what he’s about to own up to.

  Good old Nate shows up with a beer in hand. Glancing at my watch, it’s 10:23 a.m. Classy. I’m not normally quite so judgmental but ever since our stint at MUSC I just can’t get past just how self-centered his parents are. The damage they’ve done to the relationship between the two of them and myself is irreparable.

  Moby and I sit next to each other on the love seat diagonally from his mother as Nate accompanies her on the other couch. I slip my hand into Moby’s to remind him he’s not alone
as he fidgets, obviously uncomfortable.

  “What’s up, guys?” Nate’s voice barrels through the odd shaped room, it’s a narrow rectangle, impossible to successfully decorate. The country chic vibe she has going only adds to the awkward feel of the space.

  Trying to keep my eyes off Moby, I search for something to focus on other than my husband’s sudden lack of confidence. It’s not sudden, I’ve seen it, but I don’t think anyone else has; maybe Brooks or Dax, but certainly not his parents.

  “Moby, son, what do you need to talk to us about?” His dad’s impatience rubs me the wrong way. For the love of God, give him a moment to collect his thoughts. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes,” I answer for him. “Just let him get his thoughts together.” I try to execute those words eloquently and in a gentle manner, but I think I missed the mark. Patty gives me the stink eye as Moby clears his throat.

  With a heavy sigh, he starts his confession. “I need to tell you both some things and hope you can find it in your hearts to forgive me and help me.” He turns to look at me. “No, us. Help us move forward.” Neither Nate nor Patty opens their mouths as he continues. He’s up front, he doesn’t soften the truth as he paints a dark picture of where he is emotionally right now. When he’s finished, they don’t ask him to elaborate, they don’t attempt to challenge him on his lapse in judgment.

  Patty lets a few stray tears fall, quickly wiping away the evidence of their existence. His father asks him what his plans are now to which Moby doesn’t have much of an answer but he’s honest about our ideas to meet with his therapists and our counselor to figure out what will work for us together. The first step is the admission of truth to those he lied to.

  We don’t stay long after promising to keep them posted on how they can help. I can’t stop myself from snickering at their offer. They haven’t done a damn thing until now but suddenly, they’re going to swoop in and be Moby’s salvation. Right.

  Once in the car, I had hoped to see some of the tension ease from his expression but don’t. “What’s wrong?”

  “I feel like this should be cleansing, and it isn’t.”

  “It’s going to be a process, Moby.”

  “One more hurdle this afternoon and this part is over. Then we can sit down and figure out where to go from here. Together.”

  The afternoon flies by faster than either of us expects, and before we know it, we’re standing inside Healing Wings as our friends pour in the door.

  “Hey, guys, we’re going to meet in the building out back. There’s pizza and beer out there.” Cam waves her hands like a flight attendant pointing to the exit routes to direct the traffic. I can’t help but giggle.

  “I told you no food, Cam,” I holler at her over the noise of our friends.

  “I didn’t listen,” she calls back before the gaggle of people moving to the other building carries her off.

  When I turn to Moby, he’s stark white, having lost all color, fear marring his face.

  “Moby?” I question in concern. When he doesn’t respond, I call out to him a little louder, “Moby? Are you all right?”

  His head snaps in my direction. “I can’t do this, Piper. I can’t go in there. I can’t tell my friends what a piece of shit I am. My brothers are in that room.” The words fly out of his mouth as he points to the building in the back.

  Taking his hand in mine, I dip my head under his forcing him to make eye contact with me. “They love you, Moby. It’ll work out.”

  “I can’t do it.”

  “You can and you will. We asked our friends to put their lives on hold so you could talk to them. We’re going out there.”

  I would offer him my hand as we walk but he needs his for the cane, and I can’t bring myself to hold the lifeless one hanging from his other arm. It creeps me out. Maybe I’m shallow or a horrible wife, but I just can’t. Instead, I lead him toward the door and into the other building.

  The acoustics in this structure are amazing. When Dax renovated it for music therapy, he ensured the sound quality would be perfect, but also well-insulated to keep neighbors from complaining about the noise. Walking in, everyone’s talking. As soon as Dax sees Moby in the room, he wastes no time silencing the herd, shooing them to beanbag chairs on the floor with pizza in hand.

  The urge to heave overtakes me, flying to the bathroom, I barely make it to a toilet before emptying the contents of my stomach into the bowl. The acrid stench is putrid.

  “Piper?” Sutton calls from the door, her voice unsteady.

  Still hovering over the toilet in case another wave hits me, I respond, “Yeah, Sutt?”

  “What the hell was that about? Are you okay?”

  “Nerves I guess.” Hell, I don’t know. I’m not the one who did anything wrong, so I have no idea why I’m so bothered by all this. Deciding I’m not going to hurl if I move, I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, flush the toilet, and exit the stall.

  “You look like hell. Are you sick?”

  Looking in the mirror while I wash my hands, I see what I assume everyone else does: dark circles under my eyes, a gaunt face, weary…I look weary. “No, I’m not sick. Just stressed out.” Splashing cold water on my face helps revitalize me mentally, but the same morose reflection still stares back at me from the mirror. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”

  Luckily, she doesn’t ask me for details. I’m sure if she thought she had more time she would but since she was the rescue effort we need to get back to the group.

  Dax and Cam stop me when I walk in, keeping me with them. “Guys, I need to go to Moby,” I whisper in an attempt not to garner anyone’s attention.

  Dax’s smooth baritone responds close to my ear. “He asked me to keep you with us. Said he needs to do this on his own.”

  I could feel the bile rising in my throat again. Swallowing hard, forcing it down, I need to get my shit together.

  My husband is sitting on the edge of a table. I’m not sure how he managed to get in that position with a limp arm and a bad leg, his cane is between his knees. His right hand tangles in his hair indicating how anxious he is as his fingers pull on the strands beneath them. When he shuts his eyes, I know he’s gathering his resolve to get this out. This is harder than telling his parents, or me, I knew it would be.

  “What’s going on, Moby?” Joey. Always sweet Joey trying to lead his best friend to a safe place. Opening the door to usher him through whatever it is. Joey has Moby’s back, always.

  “I met with my counselor yesterday, then Piper last night, and my parents this morning.” He hesitates just long enough for a murmur to start in the room.

  “Y’all shut up and let the man talk.” Brooks looks concerned as they all do.

  “Misleading people you love is painful, even when it starts, it’s not easy, you think it’s gonna to be a one-time thing and one time turns into three, and then the lies are easier than the truth.” He stops to clear his throat; I could hear a pin drop the room is so quiet. “I’m not going to make excuses for my behavior, I’m simply going to own it and hope you all forgive me.” Inhaling loudly enough through his nose I could hear it across the room, he goes for it. “I haven’t done anything I’m supposed to do since I was released from the hospital. I’ve left my wife carrying the burden of our home, our finances, and everything else in our world while I took advantage of her.” He finds my eyes, wide and bewildered. I had no idea he was going to go this far.

  “Piper, I want to apologize publicly to you for everything I’ve done. I don’t deserve you or the love you’ve shown me. Without your dedication the last few months, we likely would be facing financial ruin.”

  I respond with a weak side smile, not feeling this is the time or place to do much else.

  Turning back to the group, he continues. “I don’t know what to do going forward. Piper and I are going to have to figure that out, but I want to apologize to all of you and ask you to help keep me accountable whenever we do devise a plan. It’s mission critical I get
my shit together and focus.”

  I don’t hear much else he says. My only concern is our friends rallying around him. There’s no condemnation, no one taking sides; they’re just exhibiting the true definition of loyalty. All offer their hand in anything we need and commit to helping us once we have a plan in place. I need to learn to ask for assistance and take it when offered. They may be the only things that save our marriage.

  Unfortunately for me, the plan Piper and I came up with, using Ralph for guidance, keeps my time accounted for…all of it. Instead of sitting at home, I now accompany Piper to work, along with Phoenix. Dax drags me around the facility forcing me to do things out of my comfort zone; everyone alternates taking me to physical therapy and doctors’ appointments, and I fill my time doing mundane work no one else has time to do. As much as I hate people treating me like I need a babysitter, having Dax around to do the therapy with makes it bearable. Not enjoyable, but I’m getting it done. I’ve noticed a huge improvement in my hand strength and my ability to walk in the two weeks he’s been working with me. He’d make a great personal trainer if he decides to go into a new field.

  My physical therapist at the center has noticed the improvement as well. We, Piper and I, decided against telling my doctors about my faux pas for fear of losing my acceptance in the program and instead opted to make sure I’m honest going forward. Anyway, she thinks I’m nearing a point where I might be able to give up the cane. I’m not sure what that would look like; I’m very self-conscious about my gait as it is. I’m also rather dependent on the stick; it’s a security blanket of sorts. Occasionally when I am alone, I give it a go, just to see how far I can walk without it. If no one’s around, I do all right because I don’t worry about how I look. If someone else is in the room, I’m not going more than a step without it.

  When I arrive at the center, I find my therapist with another woman and a briefcase of sorts. I sit down in the lobby waiting for her to finish when she waves for me to join them.

  “This is Moby. The man I have been telling you about. Moby, this is Carly. She’s with Walker Assist.”