CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Lily
T
HE HOT, HUMID
F
LORIDA SUMMER AIR
soaked me down to the bone and had my hair almost as big as a house. The thunderclouds rolled in over the bay, heavy with the scheduled midday rain. The smell of damp decay and salt water sifted through with the wind as I sat next to my father's grave. These past three months had been the hardest of my life. Being without him… without Todd, was harder than I'd ever thought possible. He had entwined his roots in my heart, and each day they grew thicker; instead of the pain subsiding, it got worse.
"When's it going to end, Dad? This can't be right. How can this one man hold so much power over me?" The thunder clapped and startled me; the sea breeze moved the storm closer still. Since I'd been home, I'd come here every day after classes. Being here with my father, even though he wasn't exactly present, helped, and at this point, I needed all the help I could get. Arcadia College of Music wasn't what I'd been hoping it could be. I didn't want to teach, I needed to perform, to be on a stage, to compose, and to let this agony release the hold it had on my body through lyrics and sound.
The sun fell behind the clouds, blotting out the light. My father's headstone stared back at me. Missing my father was something that was just a part of me now, and I had wished I'd been able to compartmentalize my feelings for Todd the same way. But his grip on me was so much stronger than I ever knew. A large drop of water fell from the sky in slow motion and splashed against my cheek as I looked up into the clouds. I blew a kiss to my father's grave and grabbed my bag in a dash to my car. The rain was a downpour before I made it inside. The air conditioner was on full blast as my old, run down Corolla started, the oppressive heat from earlier now put on hold during the torrential rain. My skin prickled with goose bumps.
Turning down the A/C, I checked my phone for the time and noticed I had a missed call from Gabe. I switched my phone to silent and backed out of the parking spot. I'd talk to him when I got home; I wasn't really in a good place right now to chat. Besides, the drive home only took about five minutes, so it seemed silly to call. The rain seemed to ease within the short ride from the cemetery to Gabe's place. Mother Nature was so confusing.
Gabe's house was small and falling apart. The white vinyl siding had a slight green hue to it from the large oak trees that it sat under. The Spanish moss that hung from the branches waved in the wind as my car rolled to a stop in the dirt drive.
Being already drenched didn't prevent me from running full speed to the house; the lightning cracked with force and had me running scared. I hated lightning. Breathing fast, I slammed the front door behind me.
"Gabe?" I called out.
"Yeah, Lil, in here," Gabe shouted from the kitchen.
Dropping my bags in front of my bedroom door, I slipped my wet shoes and socks off and headed to the kitchen. "Hey, you called me?"
Gabe smiled. "Got caught again?" His hands gestured at my drowned rat-like appearance.
"Every damn day. You would think I would learn." I laughed.
"You'd think." He smirked as he poured himself a glass of sweet iced tea.
"So… you called." I grabbed a glass from the cabinet and poured myself some tea as well.
"You got some mail." He gave me a pointed look.
"All right." I swallowed a gulp of tea; the sugary yet bitter liquid was my favorite. The slight taste of lemons made me think of hot summer days with my father as a child.
"From Utah."
I spit the tea from my lips.
"Shit, Lil." Gabe frowned, as he wiped the mess from his shirt with a nearby dishtowel.
My hands started to shake and a shiver ran down my neck. "Who… who's it from."
Gabe continued to clean himself up as he spoke, not really paying attention to my current panic attack. "Just said Blue Bar Music, Lil. It's on the coffee table."
I moved hastily out of the kitchen and into the living room. The yellow package sat serenely on the table, while my nerves were in overdrive. My heart was in my throat, and my breathing was frantic. My steps were measured as I moved closer to the table, and, once I was able to reach down and pick it up, I hesitated. I knew the minute I touched the smooth yellow envelope that everything would be real — the distance, the time spent with him. I had a feeling as to what was waiting for me inside, and I wasn't sure I would be able to survive this final blow.
My fingers traced the side of the package, and I could have sworn I felt electricity pulse up my arm. I curled my fingers, resisting the inevitability; once I opened that letter, my entire world would be thoroughly devastated.
"Well, what is it?" Gabe spoke from behind me, breaking the trance.
"Not sure," I was unable to speak any louder than a whisper.
"You gonna open it?" he asked. Gabe had no idea of what happened in Utah. He didn't know about Todd, my music, none of it. Speaking about it made it real, and I'd rather pretend it hadn't happened than mourn the loss of what could have been the love of my life.
"I'll be in my room. Let me know when you're ready to go to The Tavern for dinner." I picked up the parcel — the weight of it was light, but the damage it held inside I'm sure was monumental.
I sat with my legs folded underneath me on my bed. My fingers ripped the package open carefully, and I dumped the contents in front of me. A tattered looking letter and a CD fell out, and my breath stopped. Without a doubt, the CD was Todd and I in the studio, and the thought of hearing him sing, hearing his voice again, brought out the sob I was trying to hold back. The white paper of the letter trembled as I picked it up. The letter was wrinkled as if it had been balled up at some point. The handwriting was unmistakably his, and I closed my eyes and brought the paper to my nose praying I could have some physical piece of him again. The faint smell of ink was all that I could decipher, and my disappointment fell from my eyes in waves as I read.
Lily,
I wasn't going to send the studio sessions. I wasn't going to even write this letter, but I miss you like hell. At times, I feel like you've died, and I'm missing a ghost, but then I remember you're alive, and it was you that decided to leave. I wanted to be angry, but I can't be mad at you for not caring about me like I cared about you. Mixing these songs together and listening to your voice over and over, it was torture, Lily, pure fucking torture. But it had to be done. Something like this, something as great as your talent, shouldn't lay incomplete on the cutting room floor. I hope you find what you're looking for. I'd thought I had found my one true thing and, although
listening to your voice splits me in two
, at least I have that, at least some part of what we had was real. I want you to be happy, baby, and if that's what you're feeling now, living the dream you always wanted, then I'm happy for you.
Much Love,
Todd
Tears ran down my face as I moved quickly to the stereo with the CD in my hand. I couldn't get the music on fast enough. Todd was wrong; I wasn't happy. I was miserable, I was drowning every second of every day, and if this music, if hearing his voice could aleviate any of the constant pressure on my chest, I'd listen to this on repeat every freaking minute. The light sound of his guitar played through the speakers. My fingers turned the volume knob up, and then I lay flat on my back on my bed. My white ceiling was cast in odd shaped shadows as the storm moved the tree limbs outside. Our cover of "
King and Lion Heart"
by Of Monsters and Men eased its way over the sound system and soaked my atmosphere with all that was beautiful about Todd. The way he played guitar was different than anyone else I'd ever listened to… every chord was effortless.
Todd's deep melodic voice spilled from the speakers, making my heart stutter. The scratchy and sexy quality of his tone was distinctly him. The lids of my eyes fluttered closed, and I pictured the studio in my head, the pull of his muscle as he strummed the strings of his guitar, the tendons in his neck and how they strained when he was really getting into the song, and I remembered the perfect way his hair fell over his forehead. I smiled. The pain in my chest was almost unbearable, but I smiled because I had a piece of him again, something real. He gave me a gift today, whether that was intentional or not, I'd take it.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Todd
"
Y
OU'RE KILLING ME, BRO."
G
RADEN THREW
his guitar pick across the room. "You need to snap out of this. You sound like shit, man. It's been what; three months… you need to get laid."
"Shut the hell up." I wasn't hearing this from him right now. Today had been a crap day — some days are better than others, but I hadn't seen Molly or Emma in over a week since they were on vacation in Idaho visiting her family. They would be back tonight, and I couldn't wait. Work and band practice wasn't enough to keep me occupied, to keep my thoughts from falling back to her.
"I'm serious; we haven't played right since that bitch left. You need to get—" Graden was interrupted by the drumstick that hit him square in the back of his head. If Seth hadn't intervened, my fist would have been planted in his damn jaw.
"I'm done with this." Seth stood briskly from behind his drum kit. He grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his newly inked up chest. The kid was fully covered now all the way down onto his hands and up to his neck. He looked like a badass. "I'm out."
"What do you mean, you're out?" Jack, our bass player, asked indignantly.
"It means… I'm fucking out. Todd, man, Graden is an asshole, and your head is up your ass. This is shit, and we haven't played a show in months. I'm out."
"See you then, asshole. Drummers are easy to find." Graden sneered at Seth, and I about lost my control.
Seth just laughed. "You're right, they are."
"But singers are hard to come by, especially ones who run a damn label. I'm out too, bro." I smiled at Seth. This felt right for some reason. This band hadn't been what it once was, not for a long while, and it felt good to cut the ties. I had too much going on with Molly and Emma and the label to be worried about singing in a band.
"Are you serious?" Jack gave me a disbelieving glare.
"I'm serious. My life… it's too complicated right now, and I need a break." I set my guitar on its stand.
"Whatever." Graden grabbed his guitar and put it away in its case. He gave Seth a dirty look. "You're a dick. Throw something at me again, and I'll—"
"Cool it, Graden." Jack grabbed his things. "Let's just go. See you around guys. Call me when shit gets less heavy, man." He bowed his head in goodbye. Graden didn't say a word as they left through the studio's back door.
"What a douchebag." Seth grinned, and it made me laugh.
"I can't believe you just broke up the band, Yoko." My lips split into a cocky grin as Seth chuckled at my bad joke.
"It was time, man. Those guys were getting sloppy anyway."
"They really were." I started to pack away some of the equipment.
"And you do sound like shit," Seth said without humor.
I lifted my head and glowered at Seth. "You got something to say?"
"What are you doing, man?" Seth's keen eyes searched my face.
"I'm cleaning up, what the fuck does it look like I'm doing? I've gotta meet up with Emma in an hour." My words evaded the real question, but Seth wasn't so easily derailed.
"You getting together with Emma?" Seth's brow dipped, and he looked as if he swallowed something bitter. "'Cause that's the most stupid thing you could ever do."
His advice was unwanted and unwarranted. He didn't have a clue as to what my pain was like. Each day that ticked off the calendar, each day without her… without Lily, was another bullet to the chest. I had to find some reprieve, I had to try and get my life back.
"Emma cares about me." My voice didn't even sound believable to me.
"You fucked her yet?" he said with acid in his voice.
My hands balled into fists. "Excuse me?"
"Have you bagged her yet? Are you sleeping with her… tell me, Todd… have you even thought about it? Once?" He narrowed his eyes.
"That's not your business." I rolled my shoulders back and cracked my knuckles ready for a fight. "Don't talk about the mother of my little girl like that."
"Okay, fine then, what about Lily? Have you thought about her? Have you thought about how she could be in deep with another guy right now? How her lips could be wrapped around his—"
I shoved him hard, and he stumbled backward. "What the fuck! Why would you say that?"
"Now think about Emma like that, think about her screwing some guy, think about her laid out with another man, how does that feel? The same?" He looked at me skeptically.
My jaw compressed, my molars ached under the strain. "No man, it doesn't." The thought of Lily with another guy made me crazy, made me want to crack skulls, but Emma with another man, it didn't bother me in the same way. Emma was special, and I wanted to protect her, but I didn't want her like I wanted Lily.
"Quit lying to yourself." Seth shoved me in my chest. "Wake the hell up. Don't lead Emma on. You're not that big of a dick, are you? You think Emma doesn't know where you'd rather be. Don't you think the minute you let yourself be with her you would regret it and ruin the chance of having a friendship with the mother of your child? You think… for one second… that you could even feel half the physical need I watched and heard Lily pull from you? You're out of your damn mind." He shook his head.
My tongue was thick and my mouth was dry, making it hard to swallow the lies I'd been feeding myself for these past three months. I'd told myself I needed to move on, that I could be happy with Emma if I tried. I lied, and as I buried every thought of Lily down, each memory a knife to the chest, I brought Emma deeper into my selfish need to be loved. I
wasn't
that big of a dick, and I'd put an end to it tonight.