Bittersweet Chronicles: Pax

by Selena Laurence

  “We’re all just so happy you’re back,” Beth tells me, giving my hand a squeeze.

  “So, the nurse has been by and she’s talking with the doctor about pain meds. Dad, they’ve had me on a morphine drip for a week. They took it out, but now, they want me to take pills for the pain. I told them no.”

  My dad understands my fears and respects the way I’ve handled substances since I became a teen. “Would you like me to talk to the doctors?” he asks.

  “Could you? She acted like she thought I was crazy to refuse the stuff. I can’t believe they just dole it out like candy.”

  “Yeah, well, I can take care of that for you. Which nurse did you talk to?”

  “The one with the dark hair, about forty?”

  Dad looks at Mom. She’s the one who’ll know everyone’s name. Probably their birthdays and social security numbers too.

  “That’s Mary,” Mom says. “She works the day shift. Let’s go find her.”

  Dad nods and waves as he and Mom head out the door.

  Beth turns back to me. “Carly said she’ll be back by ten, I left my rental car for her, and in the meantime, I need to make some phone calls for work.”

  “There’s that lounge down the hall that’s pretty quiet,” Vaughn says, speaking up for the first time since they walked in.

  A look passes between him and Beth, and she nods before giving me a smile and saying, “See you both in a bit.”

  After the door closes behind her, Vaughn stares at the floor for a moment and an awkward silence descends. Just as I’m about to break it, Vaughn’s voice vibrates through the hard surfaces of the room.

  “I’m not sure how I can ever apologize.”

  I sigh in frustration. “You didn’t do anything wrong, man. It was all me.”

  “No, it really wasn’t. You were just trying to fix the mess same as the rest of us. You, me, Carly—we were all trying to figure out how to make it go away, and the fact is, we needed help. We needed to go to the authorities. Cops exist for a reason.”

  “You mean other than to hand out speeding tickets and jack up our insurance rates?”

  Vaughn chuckles before he collapses in an armchair facing my bed. He looks tired. “I, uh…” He clears his throat. “I was really worried you wouldn’t make it and I’d never get the chance to apologize for the things I said.”

  I nod. “Yeah, I wouldn’t have liked missing the chance to hear you grovel.” I look at him out of the corner of my eye.

  “Even though you were the one who screwed up?” He takes up the gauntlet, and I can see him struggling not to grin.

  “Hey. It’s never a mistake to borrow over a hundred grand from your famous rock-star father, give it to a known mob boss, and then wander around town free and easy for him to snatch you up and hold you for ransom.”

  Vaughn snorts out a laugh. “All while trying to protect an eighteen-year-old girl you just met.”

  “A stubborn eighteen-year-old girl,” I add, smiling back at him.

  “With an overly protective cousin.”

  “There is that.”

  “Speaking of which.” He pauses. “Were you serious last night? When you said you’re in love with her?”

  My face heats, but I make sure to look him in the eyes so he’ll know I’m dead serious. “Yeah, I was. More serious than I’ve ever been about anything in my life.”

  Vaughn leans farther back in his chair and stretches his legs out in front of him. “So I guess I’m not going to get rid of you all that easily, then.”

  “’Fraid not. Is that a problem?”

  He looks at me for a moment. Then his face clears. He doesn’t smile, but he doesn’t look angry either. “No. I can see how much you care about her, and I know you didn’t mean this to happen any more than I did. I could have said no at any point and I didn’t. This is as much on me as it is on you.”

  “So, we good?” I stretch out my hand.

  He reaches for it and clasps my palm. “We’re good. We’re better than good. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather see Carly with than you. You two make a great team. Even if it did end up in everyone getting shot and hospitalized.”

  At that, I laugh, and when I do, I feel a twinge of pain in the right side of my chest. Painkillers must be wearing off already. I hope this isn’t too horrible.

  **

  It’s horrible. Not unbearable, but damn painful. The entire right side of my chest is on fire for the next three days until the muscles get used to moving around. My week in a coma didn’t help my surgical recovery any. I’m still on antibiotics to prevent infection, and I have to start doing special exercises to avoid pneumonia. But my punctured lung was repaired, and the doctors say that I should be as good as ever once it’s healed.

  On day three after I’ve regained consciousness, they tell me that they’ll discharge me the following day. As soon as the excitement about getting out of the hospital wears off, though, I realize my life is a mess and I have no idea what to do next.

  It’s late afternoon, Carly is out with her Aunt Beth, and Mom and Dad are back at the hotel, taking care of some band business. Vaughn has gone home to Portland, and Joss and Mike are leaving tonight. They both miss their families.

  “You awake?” Mike asks as he knocks on the doorframe and enters my room.

  “Yeah, man. I’m starting to get really bored. I guess that means it’s time to go.”

  He throws himself down on the sofa, tipping the baseball cap he’s wearing over his eyes. “This place is great for napping though. It has the perfect amount of white noise.”

  “So, you came all the way over here to nap?” I lift an eyebrow and roll my eyes. Mike is an original.

  “Nah. I’m just resting. Get your lazy ass out of bed and come over here to talk to me.”

  “Fine,” I grumble, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed and stepping down onto the cold tile floor. They finally let me shower and put on some sweats, so at least my ass isn’t hanging out of a hospital gown.

  I shuffle over to the chair facing the sofa and gingerly sit down, careful not to move my right arm too much in the process.

  “Okay, I’m here. What do you want to talk about?” I ask.

  He cracks open one eye and looks at me before closing it again and giving a satisfied sigh. “You’re getting out tomorrow?”

  “Yeah. I can’t wait.”

  “And then what?”

  “I’m not sure. I mean, I guess Mom will either want to stay here with me for a while or she’ll want me to come back to Portland while I’m recovering.”

  I can’t see his face, and he doesn’t move a muscle.

  “You know that’s not what I’m asking,” he says quietly.

  “It’s not.” There’s no question in my voice because I do know what he’s asking, only I don’t know how to answer it.

  “You can’t stay here, Pax.”

  “I’m not sure—”

  “You. Can’t. Stay. Here,” he says in a clipped tone as he finally sits up and leans forward, putting his elbows on his knees as he faces me. “You’ve been running from it too long, kid. It’s time to face the music. Literally. It’s time to take the bull by the horns and do it.”

  I clear my throat, not sure how to respond to him.

  His eyes grow soft. “You’re all grown up, and you’re Walsh Clark’s son, and you’re a damned talented musician. The world is waiting for you. It’s time to let them see you. All of you.”

  I sigh. Pax Clark. It’s time to be Pax Clark. Rock and roll royalty.

  “Okay,” I answer simply.

  “So, you’ll come home to Portland? Let us set you up in the studio and get this shit done?” he asks, pulling a cell phone from his shirt pocket.

  “You producing?” I ask.

  He glances at me. “Yeah, Pax. I’m producing.” He snorts as he punches buttons on his phone. “As if I’d have let anyone else.”

  I chuckle and shake my head. “What would you have done if I’d gotten an
offer from another label?”

  “I’d have gotten on a plane and come to make you a better offer.”

  “Seriously? You’d have gotten into a bidding war with another label over me?”

  “You’re going to be one of the greatest music stars of your generation, Pax. I’d have gotten into a bidding war with ten other labels over you.”

  I stare at him, disbelieving. I knew he and the guys all thought I had talent, but I don’t think I ever realized just how much they believed in me. Maybe I was so busy trying to avoid everything to do with Lush that I couldn’t hear their praise?

  “Um, thanks,” I answer, not knowing what else I can say.

  “You can thank me by recording a platinum album and making me a shitload of money.”

  I laugh. “’Cause you really need more money.”

  “You never know,” he answers with a wink. “The way my kid’s running through women, I might have to support a slew of grandchildren and their mothers.”

  I jab a finger in my open mouth in a gagging motion.

  Mike cracks up before he looks at the phone again and says, “November seventh, we’ll start recording. That gives you six weeks for your recovery like the doctors said, and you can get the arrangements together while you’re hanging out.”

  And with that, my future is set. Go home. Record an album. Make money and play music. It’s all pretty simple, and some part of me wonders why I ever made it so difficult.

  **

  I’ve ejected everyone from my room by six p.m., and I’m settled in for my last night in the hospital. All I need now is my girl. After my discussion with Mike this afternoon, I asked Carly not to come back until everyone else was gone this evening. I’ve thought, and I’ve thought, and I’ve looked at it from all angles. I know what I want now, and I just hope that Carly wants the same thing.

  “Come in,” I say when I hear her light knock on the door.

  She walks in, and just like the very first day I saw her on that beach, she takes my breath away.

  “You’re out of bed,” she says with a big smile.

  “Yeah. It’s time. Come sit with me—but on my left so I can put my arm around you.”

  She laughs, and we sit side by side, my arm across the backs of her shoulders, where I can run her smooth hair across my fingers while we talk.

  She lays her head on my shoulder and releases a big sigh. “This is nice,” she tells me. “I had a crazy day.”

  “Yeah? Why was that?”

  “Well, Aunt Beth is pretty insistent that I come back to Portland with her for a couple of weeks, so I had to go get the rest of my stuff out of the dorms, file my official paperwork to drop my classes, put things in storage—you know, life stuff.”

  I nuzzle her cheek, inhaling her sweet scent—clean and warm, just like her. “I guess we haven’t had much of that—life—in the last few weeks.”

  She huffs out a little laugh. “Not really. I’m not sure how I managed to do any homework at all before I dropped out. Guess maybe school isn’t for me.”

  I run a thumb along her full bottom lip. “Don’t say that,” I tell her softly. “You’ve never had a chance to go to school the right way—the regular way. You might be really good at it. If it’s what you want to do, then you’ll do it.”

  She sighs. “Thanks. It won’t be until next semester at least though.”

  My heart starts beating harder and faster as I know that this is my opening. I take a deep breath and hope for the best.

  “So, here’s something funny—you’re going to Portland, and so am I.”

  A smile breaks out across her face. “Are you? I was hoping that’s what was going on. How long will you be there? Can you show me around?”

  “I’d better be the one showing you around. That’s my home turf. You need to see it the right way, and I’m the only one who can do that.”

  She rolls her eyes at me, but a smile is firmly in place and she puts a hand on my knee, turning toward me more so we’re nearly nose-to-nose.

  “As for how long I’ll be there…” I take her hand in mine, watching as my thumb caresses hers. “I’m moving back. For good. I’m going to take my name back and record an album for Mike’s label. It’s time for me to be who I am.”

  The light vanishes from her eyes as she struggles to maintain the smile. “Wow. That’s great. Congratulations.” She sounds anything but congratulatory.

  “Carly?”

  She looks down at her lap.

  “Hey. What are you thinking?”

  She takes a shuddering breath. “I’m happy for you. I am. But I’m sad because I’ll miss you.”

  “That’s good,” I tell her.

  She throws me a look that says, What the hell?

  “It’s good because I want to ask you something.”

  “Okay…”

  “Will you come to Portland with me? I mean, will you come live in Portland so that we can both be there? You could go to school or get a job if you want. There are plenty of jobs with the band and Mike’s label. Or you could work at Studio B. We’ll take care of you, Carly. All of us. And you and I could see where this goes. Between us, I mean.” I slide off the sofa and drop down on one knee in front of her. “Will you come live in Portland with me, Carly?”

  Tears spring to her eyes, and she sniffs. “Do you promise you’re not just asking because you feel sorry for me?”

  “God, no.” I put my palm alongside her cheek. “No. I want you to have a family and friends around you, but I would have told your aunt to ask you if that’s all I cared about. I want you to come to Portland and be my girlfriend. I want us to keep seeing each other. I love you, Carly.”

  She nods, a few tears spilling onto her cheeks. “Okay. I’d really like to do that, Pax. I’d really like to be your girlfriend, and I’d really like to try living in Portland too.”

  I lean up and kiss her, our lips melting together in a way that tells me this is good, and this is forever.

  Six Months Later

  Pax

  I jog across the campus of Portland State, Frisbees flying and dogs barking as the students enjoy one of the first really warm days of spring.

  “Hey!” one shirtless guy cries as I run past him. “Aren’t you Pax Clark?”

  “Hey,” I say as I turn and jog backwards for a few paces. “How’s it going?”

  “I saw your show last week at the Paramount. Rocked it, man.”

  “Cool. Thanks!” I say before I turn around and keep jogging. I’m late, and she’s going to be pissed because I promised I’d carry her stuff from her presentation.

  I skid to a stop outside the psychology building just in time to see some big, dumb jock carrying a cardboard box as Carly holds the door open for him.

  “Carly,” I say just a little too sharply.

  She turns and gives me a look. Guys know what I’m talking about. The look.

  “Nice of you to show up.”

  I reach the door and hold it for her while she leans inside and picks up her book bag off the floor. Jock dude is standing on the sidewalk now, looking at her with a whipped-puppy expression, waiting for further instructions.

  I step to him after Carly exits and take the box from him. “I’ve got this now. Thanks a lot for helping out my girl.” My tone tells him exactly what I think of his help.

  “No worries, dude,” he answers. He’s a cheerful one. “See ya around, Carly.” He waves and lumbers off toward the quad, where all the Frisbee play is taking place.

  Several voices yell as he approaches, and he’s quickly buried in a dog pile of rowdy guys with Greek letters on their T-shirts.

  I put the box down then turn back to Carly, who’s standing with her arms crossed, one eyebrow raised. I put my hands on her hips and adopt my saddest puppy-dog eyes. They totally work on her. I’ve learned this over the last few months.

  “I’m so sorry I was late, baby. We needed to get this one last chorus down for the new album. You know how Mike gets about this stuff. He�
��s a perfectionist, and he’s bigger and meaner than I am. I have to do what he says.”

  “So, I need to take it up with him, then?” she asks, trying hard not to crack a smile.

  “Definitely,” I say, leaning in to give her a light kiss on the lips.

  She sighs, and then the smile breaks through. “Fine.”

  I give her another kiss, longer this time, lingering to taste the berry flavor of her lip gloss, and possibly slipping one hand down to cup her ass. “How was your presentation?” I ask once we break apart when someone walks by and shouts, “Get a room!”

  “It went really well. I think I got an A.”

  “That’s my girl. I’m proud of you. You ready to go?”

  “Yes, but where are you taking me?” she asks.

  “Patience, grasshopper. We’ll be there in just a few minutes.”

  She smiles as I pick up her box and we walk to the parking lot.

  Coming to Portland was definitely the right choice for both Carly and me. She’s been living with her aunt and uncle for the last six months. She enrolled in Portland State in January and is almost done with her first semester now. Her major is still undecided, but with a roof over her head and financial aid, she has enough money that she can relax, take classes she enjoys, and figure out what interests her. She’s made friends, and as an added bonus, she and my sister, Lyric, totally hit it off. They’re only a year apart in age, and they spend a lot of time shopping and doing homework together at coffee shops.

  I recorded my first album with Mike, and it dropped in February. So far, I’ve had two singles in the top ten, and the album is on track to hit gold by the end of the summer. One good thing about Mike’s label recording my stuff is that I have total control over promo, performances, and my schedule. So far, I’ve declined doing any big tours, opting instead to sign on to a couple of large outdoor music festivals during the summer when Carly’s not in school so she can come with me.

  Now, I’m about to use some of the rewards of my success to get closer to Carly. I know she’s young, and that’s why I talked to my family and hers before I did this. They were all supportive, and I think they know I would never try to keep Carly from growing and following her dreams. In fact, I want to spend my life helping her reach those dreams. Like my parents, I met the one early in my life, and that’s just how it is.