Cardinal (25 page)

After I told Dean that Caleb tried to hit on
me, he wasn’t pleased. He confided that he never planned to sign with Snare,
not with Sacred Sin’s history. He’s only tolerating Caleb to get through this
tour. He said he has to be nice to him to avoid burning bridges; labels and
agents talk. His main goal is to gain exposure, then shop his music.

“Latson knows, right?  You told him?”

“In every message I’ve left.”

I sigh. I hate that he won’t talk to me. This
is exactly like the time he overreacted at the hospital. It makes my heart
hurt.

“I’ll let you know if he calls,” Dean says.

“Okay.”

I roll over on my side and try to settle into
my bunk. It seems Beau has us traveling at warp speed to Florida; I can feel it
in the shimmy of the bus. I contemplate waking Ariel to ask her if Latson acted
this way when they were together, but I know she hasn’t been feeling well and
she needs her sleep. There’s nothing left for me to do, other than close my
eyes. Instead, I find myself staring at Oliver’s drawing. When did things get
so complicated?

I feel a tap on my shoulder. “You up?”

I roll over and see Ariel. “Yeah. I thought you
were sleeping.”

She shakes her head. “My mind is racing.”

“Same here.”

“Move over,” she says and nudges me.

I scoot to the side as Ariel sits down. She
swings her legs up beside mine and lies back, so we’re lying side by side. She pulls
the bunk curtain closed. “You’d think they’d make these beds bigger,” she says.
“Rock stars get laid on their busses all the time.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Are you speaking from
experience?”

“Maybe.”

I elbow her and she giggles.

We’re quiet for a few moments before she says,
“Things are stupid right now, aren’t they?”

I nod in agreement.

“I’m knocked up and you’re fighting with Gunnar.
Neither should be happening.”

“Amen, sister.”

We stare at the ceiling. Although we’re both
dealing with issues, hers more life-altering than mine, it’s nice to know I’m
not alone. I’m sure she feels the same way.

“You know,” she breaks the silence, “true
artists would take their feelings and spill them into song.”

I turn my head. “Like Taylor Swift?”

“Exactly.”

I guess I’m not a true artist. “I don’t feel
like writing. All I want is a phone call.”

“I hear you.” She sighs. “All I want is to stop
puking up everything I eat.”

“You’re having a girl,” I muse. “My mom said I
was the worst pregnancy out of four. I have three older brothers.”

“You think?  I like the idea of having a girl. I
wouldn’t know what to do with a boy.”

“I think you’d figure it out. Moms are
resourceful like that.”

Ariel closes her eyes. “I still can’t wrap my
mind around the idea. I mean, I can’t deny what my body is telling me, but it’s
still surreal.” She looks at me. “How will I make it through nine months of
this?  How will I push out a baby?  How?”

“With the help of powerful drugs.”

She rolls her eyes and sets her hand on her
belly. “That doesn’t make me feel better for subjecting an innocent child to my
poor parenting. I’m not sure I should have this baby.”

“Stop,” I chastise her. “The stork has never
once delivered a baby
and
a handbook. If you decide to raise the little
peanut, you’ll do just fine. I know it.”

“You think?” Ariel’s expression softens. “It’s
hard to be logical when I’m so emotional.”

“I know you’ll do what’s right, whatever you
decide.”

She sighs. “Thank you. That makes me feel
better.”

I frown. “I wish Latson felt better.”

Ariel extends her hand to me, and I take it. She
squeezes my fingers. “He’ll call.”

“Unless he doesn’t.” I can’t help but imagine
something awful, like him taking PTA mom Natalie up on her carpool offer. I
shudder.

“He’ll realize he overreacted.” Ariel gives me
an encouraging smile.

“I hope you’re right
,
” I say.

When we arrive in Tampa, Ariel heads to her
doctor appointment in a rented Mercedes, and I head up to my room without Roxanne.
My body feels drained when it shouldn’t; I just spent the last nine hours on a
bus. I need to pull myself together and focus on something other than Latson. We
have a show tonight, and I need to concentrate.

When I get to my room, I open the door and fumble
my way through with my suitcase, guitar, and bag. My exhausted eyes sweep the
space like they always do and land on the desk opposite the two queen beds. A
huge grin break across my face and relief instantly floods my body. I drop
everything I’m carrying and skip over to a huge vase of roses sitting there. I
bury my nose in the petals and inhale; there must be two dozen flowers here. Each
one is a rich, velvety red and has a faux diamond set in the center. Eagerly, I
find the card with my name on it and pry it open, excited and relieved to read
Latson’s words.

As quickly as the high came, the low crushes me.
The flowers aren’t from him.

My apologies for NOLA

Yours, Caleb

“I really think we should add “Fairytale”
between “The Short Life” and “Over-Exposed”. It would be a natural pace
progression.”

Dean tries to talk me into performing solo as
the four of us enter our dressing room. We just finished opening at the Tampa
Bay Times Forum.

“It would also give my voice a break.”

He wiggles his eyebrows, and I shove his arm. “Pace
progression my ass. You’re just being lazy.”

Singing solo doesn’t bother me so much anymore;
it’s the attention I might get from Caleb. I don’t want to give him any reason
to talk to me, much less send flowers. Speaking of, I got rid of the roses by
leaving them on an empty table in the hotel lobby. I didn’t want them, and I
definitely didn’t want Roxanne to question me.

Stepping in front of the mirror, I pull out the
bobby pins Mona buried in my hair. Instinct tells me to check my phone to see
if Latson called, but I force myself to wait. I really don’t want another dose
of disappointment. In fact, I’d rather check it when I’m alone so I can mope in
private. I don’t know how long he plans to drag out the silent treatment, but I
think it’s been long enough.

“Hey, guys. Do you have a minute?”

I turn around to see Mason enter our dressing
room. He looks stressed. “Is Ariel okay?”

He nods. “Everything’s on schedule tonight.” He
glances over his shoulder, then shuts the door behind him. “I need to talk to
you all about the rest of the tour.”

His words grab Dean’s attention. “What about
it?”

Mason turns toward the guys. “Ariel’s
pregnant.”

Paul’s mouth drops open. “No shit.”

“Yes, shit.” Mason rubs his eyes. “I met her at
the doctor this morning. She’s six weeks along.”

Drew blows out a heavy breath and Dean crosses
his arms. “So, what does that mean?”

Mason’s phone rings, and he pulls it out of his
pocket to silence it. “It means she’s made a few decisions. Number one, after
seeing her ultrasound, she’s decided to have the baby.”

I smile. I had a feeling she would.

“The tour’s fucked.” Paul throws up his hands. “Unbelievable.”

“Not so fast.” Mason meets his eyes. “We’ll
have to cut some dates, but we’ll finish the States. The international leg will
have to be canceled.”

I can feel Dean relax from feet away. “Are you
sure?” I ask. “Ariel’s felt awful.”

Mason nods. “Her doctor gave her the okay to
perform as long as she’s feeling up to it. I’m going to look at the remaining
cities tonight, get with the label, and decide what to cut. My guess is that
we’ll avoid multiple stays in one city.”

Dean rubs his chin in thought. “How are you
going to justify the cancellations?  Are you going to make something up?”

“No. Ariel is going to announce the baby. She’ll
tweet the news tomorrow.” Mason steps toward the door and opens it with a sigh.
“She doesn’t want to lie to her fans, or let them down. I’m headed to find
Roxanne and break the news. I’ll send you the revised schedule as soon as I
have it.”

When he’s gone, all four of us look at one
another. “I wonder who the father is,” Paul muses, then winks. “I know it’s not
me.”

I shake my head and start to pack my things. I
won’t be sharing that information.

Dean plops down in a chair next to me, so I
ask, “Do you feel better about the tour now?”

“I’m a little disappointed things will be cut
short.” He gives me a small smile, and I give him one in return. “You should
let Gunnar know,” he adds. “With this news, you might get a response.”

Since I’ll be coming back earlier than expected,
maybe I will.

I pull out my phone and try to hide my frown
when I see Latson hasn’t tried to contact me. I type out a message: 
I
know you’re not talking to me, but Ariel has decided to have the baby. Some tour
dates will be canceled. I’ll be back before November.

I want to add “If you want me back”, but I’m
too afraid of his answer.

~~~~

When I get to the hotel, I shower and put on
Latson’s t-shirt. It still smells like him, but not nearly as strong. I
silently hope it’s not a metaphor for our relationship; that it’s not slowly
fading away, too.

As I curl up in bed, the thought of losing him
starts to take root in my mind. It’s the last thing I want. I consider calling
him again, since Roxanne is still with Mason going over the schedule, but I
don’t want to come across as hyper or clingy. I just want him to talk to me.

A knock on the door stops my thoughts. Confused,
I walk over to see if Roxanne forgot her key. When I look through the peephole,
I blink a couple times to make sure what I’m seeing is real. My pulse starts to
race, and I can’t get the door open fast enough.

“You’re here.” The words rush out of me.

In less than a second, I’m in Latson’s arms. He
holds me against him and I melt into his chest, inhaling his scent and feeling
his heartbeat. He walks forward, pressing me back, until he shuts the door behind
us. Without words, his mouth finds mine; his kiss is soft, yet urgent and deep.
I return it with everything I have and run my hands up to his shoulders, feeling
him relax beneath my touch. We stand in the middle of the room, connected, for countless
minutes until he finally pulls away. His eyes meet mine for the first time, and
I notice red discolors the whites. He looks tired, like he hasn’t slept in
days.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” he says.

I run my thumb over his cheek, across the
purplish tint beneath his eye. “You were mad. I get it.”

“I was at first, but …”  He shakes his head. “Something
else came up.”

His tone tells me something bad has happened. Immediately
my thoughts jump to Oliver. “Is O all right?  Where is he?”

“He’s fine. Believe it or not, he’s with my dad.”
Latson pulls me closer. “I’m a little freaked out about it.”

My expression falls. “What do you mean he’s
with your dad?  Did something happen with custody?”

“No.” Latson pauses. “My mom passed away this
morning.”

Oh no. My eyes search his face. “Was she ill?”

“She wandered away from her room,” he says. “She
fell and hit her head.”

I wrap my arms around his waist and hug him
tight.

“I’ve been at the hospital the past few days. At
first it seemed things would be okay, but she kept getting worse. The bleeding
inside her head wouldn’t stop.”

My voice is muffled against his chest. “I’m so
sorry. Does Dean know?”

“I just left his room. I feel like shit; I
should have called him sooner. Everything happened so fast. One minute she was
going to be fine, and the next she wasn’t. Before I knew it, I was taking
Oliver to say goodbye.”

I look up at him. “How is he?”

“He cried, but not much. He held her hand and told
her he loved her.”

My heart starts to ache at the image.

“Then my dad distracted him with swimming and
he was a seven-year-old again.”

“Swimming?”

“My parents have a pool. My dad asked to spend
some time with O.”

Leaning back, I study the man in front of me. This
is a huge step for him. “I can’t believe you let him go.”

“It’s only until tomorrow night.” Latson rests
his forehead against mine. “When my father asked to watch Oliver, my first
reaction was to take him and run. But O begged, and I thought of you.”

“Me?”

“This is the first time my father has shown any
interest in his grandson.” Latson meets my eyes. “If you had been there, I know
you would have told me to let them spend time together. You would have said it’s
the right thing to do.”

I give him a gentle kiss. “You know me so
well.”

He almost smiles. “I also knew I needed to see
you. I couldn’t stay at my place alone. Not tonight. Not with Oliver where he
is and the way I left things with you. The silence would be deafening.”

“About that –” I start.

“Forget it,” he says.

“No. I want to explain.” I set my hands against
his chest. “Caleb ambushed me. He said it was partly your fault Sacred Sin got
dropped. I tried to leave and he stole my phone to make me stay. Dean and Drew
came to my rescue, but by then you’d heard –”

“It doesn’t matter.” He puts two fingers
beneath my chin and lifts my gaze. “Whose shirt are you wearing?”

“Yours.”

“Who gets to kiss you?”

“You do.”

“Who’s missed you more than anything?”

I circle his wrist and move his hand, so I can
lean in and hug him again. “You.”

As I say that word, all the stress from the
past few days melts away. I feel better, but a new hurt starts to grow. One for
Latson and what he’s going through.

“Come on,” I say and lead him toward the bed. I
prop the puffy pillows against the headboard as he takes off his shoes. It’s
just now that I notice he doesn’t have a bag or a suitcase with him. “Did you
bring any clothes?”

“I left my backpack with Dean,” he says. “I’m
only here for the night.”

I wish he didn’t have to leave so soon, but I
know Oliver is weighing on his mind. Plus, arrangements need to be made for his
mother. I crawl to the center of the bed and he joins me fully dressed. We
scoot together, and I end up tucked against his side. He wraps his arm around
my back, and I thread my legs through his.

“I don’t think you know how much you calm me,”
he says.

I’m sure things haven’t been easy. “Do you want
to talk about it?”

“About what?”

“Oliver. Your mom. Whatever you want.”

He’s quiet. My fingers find their way to his
side and trace patterns over his shirt.

“You know,” Latson says, “I actually thought
she was getting better.”

My tracing stops. “Before she fell?”

“After.” His arm tightens around my waist. “For
about five minutes my mom was completely lucid. She asked about Oliver and his
last day of school. She asked about the bar and Dean. I thought it was
impossible for her to remember anything, but she was her old self. Her
personality came back.”

I give him a tentative smile. “Then what
happened?”

“My dad came into the room. She called him by
name and he dropped his coffee. She laughed and called him a klutz. I haven’t
heard that laugh in years.” He sighs and runs his palm over his tired eyes. “A
few seconds later she asked where Audrey was. As fast as she appeared, she
slipped away again. The fall didn’t help her disease. It couldn’t.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“It was stupid to think she was recovering. No
one recovers from dementia.”

I lift my head and kiss the corner of his mouth.
“There’s nothing wrong with having hope.”

His eyes meet mine. “I wish you could have met
her. The real her, not the shell.”

“Me, too.” We study one another, until I say, “Although,
in a way, I have met her. Part of her is in you.”

Latson scowls. “You’re wrong. She was a good
person. I’m not –”

“Stop.” I cut him off. “You’re good.”

He gets sarcastic. “Does a good person use his
mother’s illness against his parents to gain custody of his nephew?”

My mouth falls open. “What?”

“Does a good person fight with his drug
addicted sister when he knows she will use any excuse to get high?”

I shake my head to sort out what he’s saying.

“That’s what I thought.” Latson lets his head
fall back against the headboard. “I’m not my mother.”

No. “Hang on.” I sit up and kneel beside him. “You
couldn’t love your nephew more if he was your own child. You give him everything.
There was no choice but for you to take him. Your mother was sick and your dad
works a million hours. He would’ve ended up with a nanny.”

“Mrs. Gibson is a nanny.”

I groan and let my head fall back in exasperation.
How can he not see all the good he’s done?  “As far as Audrey goes, you fought
with your sister. What brother doesn’t fight with his sister?  You had no idea
she was going to OD. Knowing you the way I do, you were probably arguing with
her to stop her from using. Am I right?”

The muscles in Latson’s neck tense. “I confronted
her the night she died.”

“And?”

“Levi was in her suite. I knew there were only
two things they could be doing: lines or fucking. Neither of which Oliver
needed to see.”

My eyes grow wide. Hopefully he showed up in
time. “You were fighting with her because you cared about her. Not to provoke her.”

Latson sets his jaw. “I knew she was unstable.”

“Your heart was in the right place.”

“I stormed out.”