Uncovering Hope (Uncovering Love Book 3) (20 page)

Through the oversized glass doors they’ve assembled a dance floor in the back corner of the yard, and lights flash across the space from a DJ booth. The night sky is black and cloudy, hiding the crescent moon, and a cool breeze kicks up. I smooth down my skirt and look around, searching for Derek.

There’s a group congregated near the fire pit and as I draw closer I hear his unmistakable deep laughter. I stride over, a smile on my face. What I see next replaces the brief joy I had in finding him with anger.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

The smell of weed permeates the night air and fills me with a familiar sense of dread, disgust, and hate. I close my eyes. An image of Josh sitting around our kitchen table with his buddies fills my mind. Fuck. I snap my eyes open in time to see Derek take the joint from the woman seated at his side. It stops me in my tracks. His gaze finds mine through the haze of smoke.

Of course he does drugs.
Fuck my life
. I don’t move and he’s still staring. Movement beside Derek catches my eye and the woman sitting next to him, the one with the perfectly thin waist, long black hair, and amazing rack, whispers something in his ear. He doesn’t seem to like whatever she says and hands the joint back. He trains his gaze on me. The woman at his side makes a point of glaring at me from beneath fake lashes. She lifts the joint to her red painted lips and inhales.

It’s the kick in the ass I need to jolt me from my stupor. I turn on my heel and march back through the house the way I came. I hear my name being called over the music but I don’t stop. I can’t believe this. I can’t believe he smokes weed. Of course he does, I’m sure the band has all sorts of drugs at their disposal.

“Carly, stop. Mama, hey, hold up.” I step out the front door and Derek catches my arm in a firm grip, pulling me to face him.

“Hey, where are you going? Everything okay with the boys?” Worry and concern etch across his face.

I grind my teeth together and glare. “Let me go. I’m leaving.”

“Are you mad because you’re jealous of Sarah?”

“What?” I scowl and shake my head. “Who’s Sarah?”

“The girl sitting next to me back there.” He shakes his head, brow furrowed.

“I don’t give a fuck who you spend your time with,” I bite out. He steps back, eyes wide as if I’ve just slapped him.

“Hey. What’s going on? Why are you so upset? I thought things were—it was good between us—I thought you felt the same.” He looks so hurt but I can’t worry about what he thinks. I have to protect myself.

“I came here tonight thinking . . . nevermind. I didn’t think. I don’t do drugs, Derek.”

“I don’t either.”

“No. I mean, I don’t do them in any capacity. I won’t be around them, or people, such as yourself, who get high.”

“I didn’t smoke weed.”

“You were holding a joint.”

“Okay, that looks bad, but I don’t smoke. Well I have smoked, and sometimes on occasion I still do. But it’s not a big deal. I don’t need it. I’m not an addict or anything.”

Like I’ve never heard that before. I close my eyes and will the memories away. This is too much. I knew better. God, I’m a fool.

“I can’t do this with you. My ex was a drug addict. Is a drug addict. And nothing you can say or do will explain your behavior away.”

“Look, I’m sorry, Carly. I didn’t know. I swear, it’s not a big deal to me. If you don’t like it, it’s not something I need in my life. You’re more important than that.”

“So, you’ll go in there and take all the drugs away? Or when you’re on tour there won’t be any?”

“Come on, Carly, I can’t do that. I respect the guys to make their own decisions. It doesn’t bother me, I just don’t participate. They can. It doesn’t hurt anyone.”

“I knew it! I knew it could never work between us. God, I’m sorry Derek, but I have to go.”

“Wait! You thought we could be an us? Please, Carly, what I feel with you—it’s more than I ever thought possible.”

“You don’t get it. We’re too different. We live in different worlds. You’re going on the road and I’ll be here, with my boys. I need someone who fits into that. And the weed, that’s just the nail in the coffin. I can’t—no—I
refuse
to do that to my boys. To put them in a bad situation again. They’re everything to me. I’ll do anything to keep them safe.” Silence stretches between us. His gaze doesn’t waver from mine.

“Even at the cost of your own happiness?” he implores.

“Yes. Especially that. Goodnight, Derek. I hope you have a good tour.” I pull from his hold and turn on my heel, striding toward my parked car.

“Wait!” he calls.

I stop but don’t look back. I need to be strong, for myself, for my boys.

“Keep me updated on Luis?” His voice is full of emotion. That man, the one beneath the rock star veneer, that’s the man I care about.

“Always. Good-bye, Derek.” I say into the night sky. I don’t hear his response. Instead my labored breaths fill my ears as I trot to my car and peel out of the driveway.

I PULL INTO THE VISITOR
space and jog up to the desk to check in. My eyes burn. I couldn’t sleep last night. After no sleep and six cups of coffee, I’m jittery as hell. After Carly left last night I couldn’t stay at the party. I had no desire to be there. I said my good-byes and drove back to my apartment where I lost myself in my writing.

Song after song, lyric after lyric, the words flowed like a waterfall, beating down on my soul faster than I could scribble them on paper. Like an exorcism, I had to get them out of my system. The sunlight beat through my window, a wild mix of burnt orange and golden yellows before I could breathe normally again. It was pointless to even attempt sleep, so I finished packing for the trip and drove to the center to see my mom.

“She’s had a few bad days,” Liz, the front desk employee, warns as she checks my ID against my mom’s approved visitor list. Well, great. This day is off to a fucking phenomenal start.

“Just forgetting names?” I ask Liz. She nods with furrowed brows. Her mouth pulls into a tight line and she hands back my license.

“It’s progressing more. You know we check in regularly and most days she can handle the independence, but yesterday Yolanda found her crying in the kitchen. She didn’t remember how to turn on the faucet.”

I blow out a breath and rub my hands over my face and over the stubble on my head. “What does that mean?”

“We’ve discussed this before. We’ll keep you informed, but it won’t be long now. She’ll need to move into the assisted care unit for twenty-four-seven companionship. It’s for her safety.”

“She’s not going to like it.” I laugh humorlessly. That’s the bitch of the disease. Some days my mom can remember everything. Some days she forgets her own name. The inevitable is coming and sometimes I wish it’d just get here already so she didn’t have to suffer.

“Yes, I’m sure you’re correct.”

“I’m going on the road for the next month. Can I please get daily reports?”

“Of course, Mr. Taylor.” She nods and places a hand on my shoulder. “She’s safe here. We’ll make this transition as comfortable as possible, but this disease isn’t easy. On you or her.” She pulls her arm back and I nod and pick up the coffee and donuts I stopped for on my way over.

“Thank you, Liz. I appreciate that.”

I stride to my mom’s apartment and open the door with a knock.

“Madre! I brought your fav!” I call out. I walk into the dark and flip on the lights to the tiny apartment. “Oh!” I stop short to find her sitting on the couch. Her eyes are wide as she meets my gaze.

“Alexander,” she whispers. Her lips pull slowly into a smile that fills her face. “Alexander!” she shouts.
Fuck, fuck, fuck
. I fucking hate his name.

“Mom, it’s me, Derek. Not Dad. I brought you donuts.” Her smile crumbles and the lines of her face worry me. “It’s me, Derek. Your son.”

“Derek,” she repeats. “Where’s your brother?”

“David’s in heaven, Madre. He died, remember?” Her chin trembles and her gaze sharpens. I know this look. Fuck, she’s remembering the pain all over again. My brother dying. My dad leaving. God, I hate this. I drop everything on the table and fall to my knees before her. Her sobs come quick and the tears rain down. I lay my head on her lap and her body slumps over me.

“Derek. You’re Derek. David passed on. Alexander left,” she bites out between sobs.

“Yeah, Mom. It’s okay. I’m here.”

I let her hold on and cry it out. Her pain is tormenting. To have to re-live the worst memories of her life all over again, as if the first time wasn’t hard enough. Losing her oldest son. Her husband walking out a few months later. I know everyone grieves differently, but I’ll never understand that. They said they grew apart throughout my brother’s illness.

He said she became so obsessed with David’s care she didn’t have any room left for a husband. I’ll always see him as a selfish prick. Sure, he sent checks every month. Financially, he still took care of us. But how do you leave the woman you are supposed to love when her world has been torn apart? How do you leave your twelve-year-old son to pick up the pieces?

Mom’s sobs slow and she pulls away. I lean back on my heels and straighten before her.

“I brought the clown donuts.” I make a silly face and she gives a little chuckle while wiping at her face.

“You’ll get cavities with that sweet tooth of yours.” She accepts my hand and I lead her to the table. My visit is short and I don’t bother explaining my tour. She’ll only be confused. Besides, she won’t even realize I’m not here.

Getting back in my Yukon, it hits me that our visit today might be the last time she remembers I’m Derek. I crank a blues number on the stereo and tap my fingers to the rhythm on the steering wheel. My left knee bounces to the bass drum. Ella Fitzgerald croons about love lost and I feel moisture prick the corners of my eyes. I blink to keep the tears at bay.

I don’t want to leave her. A month feels so long. I’ve known what’s coming for years, but it feels sudden all over again. I have a panicking urgency to savor as much time as possible before it’s too late. Before she’s a shell of the mind she once was. I can’t stop living my own life, but for the first time I want to. That scares me a little.

I see the end approaching.

You live this life wanting something, searching for more. To make a difference, to leave a mark, a way to show others that hell yeah, this world contains beauty and I’m part of that. Worthy. What scares me is leaving this world and being forgotten. But what scares me more is being left by everyone I’ve loved. Is life so cruel that it’s my fate to go it alone? My brother’s gone, my dad left, and my mom’s losing her memories.

Carly left too. I still can’t fathom how quickly things changed—from fucking against the door in one of Bedo’s guest rooms to her leaving and wanting nothing to do with me in such a short amount of time. For those few minutes we were together I’d never felt so connected to another person. She was the home I’d been searching for. Not a place, but a soul that recognized and accepted my own.

Fuck that shit. If what we had was real she wouldn’t have run so fast. She would have given me the benefit of the doubt.
But maybe her past scares her as much as yours.
I shake my head and focus on the road. It’s a good thing I’m going on tour. I need space. I need to move on from her. I won’t beg to be with someone who doesn’t want me. I know my own worth.

I have one more stop before I meet the band at the airport. I follow the familiar route and jog my way inside the looming tower. I’m greeted with strange looks. The day shifters are all different faces and don’t recognize this tatted up rocker.

I open the door to 412 with a knock. Luis’ eyes light up when he lifts them from his cell phone. A woman I’ve never met sits beside him in a chair and types on her laptop.

“I hope it’s okay to visit during regular hours?” I joke, and the woman glances up, her eyes warm with recognition.

“You must be the visitor my son can’t stop talking about.” She sets the computer down and stands. Her dark hair is pulled away from her face and deep circles frame her eyes despite the makeup that covers her skin.

“Mom . . .” Luis looks away. He seems embarrassed.