Cardinal (26 page)

“You were pissed.”

“If I had stayed she might still be alive.”

“You don’t know that.”

“My father thought so. He said I killed her.”

Defeated, I let my shoulders sag. “I don’t
understand how your father could accuse you of anything.”

Seconds pass before Latson takes a deep breath
and reaches for me. “You know we never saw eye to eye on music,” he says as I
settle into his side. “My dad was angry about a lot of things, and when he
found out that I left Audrey after an argument, he said some really shitty stuff
to get to me. When I got custody of Oliver, I cut him off.”

“Until now,” I say against his chest.

“No. Not until now. Until you.”

I look up at him, confused.

“My dad pulled me aside when you were admitted
to the hospital.” He pushes my hair back from my forehead. “He tried to
apologize and blame grief for his actions. I ignored him. I told him it was two
years too late, asked him to take care of you, and left.”

I can tell his father’s words made an impact. “But
you still listened.”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about what he said.”

Propping myself on my elbow, I lean forward and
kiss him. “I’m glad.” I hope things work out. If not for him, then for O.

I curve my body against his and, after minutes
of silence, I start to fall asleep. Latson is tired too, and that’s okay. His
presence alone is comforting. I feel warm and safe surrounded by him, and that
thought makes me realize just how hard I’ve fallen for this man. We don’t have
to do anything but be together, and I feel sated. Yes, he has some baggage and I
hate the sad circumstances that brought him here tonight, but I’ll do whatever it
takes to make him feel better. I once told him his hurts are mine. I still
believe that.

“Jen?”

I look up at him. “Hmmm?”

“Do you think you could come to the funeral? 
I’d really like you to be there.”

“Of course. I’ll talk to Roxanne about it
tomorrow. Whatever you need.”

Latson’s eyes lock with mine before he cradles
the side of my face. He leans in slowly and gives me a tender kiss. “You,” he
says. “I’m going to need you.”

~~~~

The following week, I pack a small bag to take
to Chicago. The funeral is tomorrow, and I’ll be staying with Latson for two
nights. Dean flew out ahead of me, to spend time with the family and attend his
foster mother’s wake. The Union won’t be opening for Ariel in Atlanta because
of our absence, but Dean and I will fly back together to pick up the tour in
Nashville.

Opening the closet, I pull out the black dress
Ariel helped me find. When I told her what had happened, she volunteered to go
shopping with me for something appropriate. Being out in public with Ariel was
a trip. She was in disguise, wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses, but a few
people still recognized her. Before we left the hotel, she told me she wanted
to visit a few baby stores, but we never made it. Luckily the madness started
after we found what I was looking for.

I hang the dress up in the bathroom, so I can
remove any wrinkles with the steam from a hot shower. I start to get undressed
when someone starts pounding on the door like the hotel’s on fire. I jump at
the sound and race to open it.

You have got to be joking.

“I just wanted to let you know I’m back.” Heidi
crosses her arms and a shoots me a superior look. “I talked to Caleb.”

My eyes narrow. I thought I ran the chance of
running into her in Chicago, not Atlanta. My tone is acerbic. “I don’t even
want to think about what you did to get into his good graces.”

I start to shut the door, but she slams her
hand against the wood to stop me. “We’re having a party tonight to celebrate.”

“And?”

“You’re not invited.”

Does she think that hurts my feelings?  I stare
at her stupefied. “I’ll be sure to write that in my diary later.” I slam the
door. Apparently, she feels vindicated. Fine. Whatever. Leave me alone.

When I get out of the shower, Roxanne is
already tucked in bed, her face illuminated by her Kindle. I no more than tell
her who’s back when I understand the reason Heidi brought up the party.

It’s happening in the room next to ours.

Loud music, laughter, and later, moans, filter
into our room throughout the night. It’s impossible to sleep, no matter how
hard we try. When Heidi starts to scream Caleb’s name, I’m fully aware of what
she did – or will do – to stay on this tour. It’s pathetic.

“That’s it!”  Roxanne jumps out of bed and rips
the handset off the phone. “I’m calling the front desk!”

Like it will make a difference,
I think. Not
with Caleb involved. He’ll probably toss some extra record label cash at the
manager and continue his sexcapades. I bury my head beneath the pillows as
Heidi starts up again. Good God, she has to be faking by now.

As predicted, the complaint to the front desk
yields zero results. It’s three a.m. and I have to get up in two hours. I’m
dead tired and pissed as hell. It’s almost as if they’re doing this on purpose.
I throw my blankets off and march to the door.

“Where are you going?” Roxanne sits up
straight.

“To shut them up,” I snap.

I pound on their door like Heidi did earlier. It
takes a few times before the noise stops. Satisfied, I start to walk away when
the door opens. Caleb stands there, half-naked, holding a sheet around his
waist.

“Would you two keep it down?” I hiss. “People
are trying to sleep!”

“Jen.” He looks me over. “I didn’t know you
were next door.”

“Does it matter?  Just shut the hell up!”  I
start to walk away.

“Don’t leave.”

Against my better judgment, I turn around. “Did
you get my flowers?” he asks.

He wants to discuss this now?  I groan. “Yes. I
gave them away. I don’t want anything from you, Caleb.”

Suddenly, Heidi appears behind him and shrieks,
“You sent her
flowers?
”

“As an apology,” he says.

She starts to pummel him with her fists. “No! 
No no no no!”  He tries to block her. “She can’t have you, too!”

“Calm down. Christ.” Caleb moves and tries to
ward her off. “What is wrong with you?”

I hear the distinct sound of a door open across
the hall.
Fantastic,
I think. We’re waking up the whole floor. “Guys!” 
I try to whisper-yell. “Knock it off!”

“You bastard!”  Heidi continues to wail on
Caleb’s chest, her red hair a tangled mess. “How could you?”

“Nothing’s going on!”

He lets go of his sheet to catch Heidi’s flying
fists, and it falls to floor. Oh, Jesus. I slam my eyes shut, but not before
getting a full view of Caleb’s naked ass. Their struggle stops and I hear, “You
wouldn’t dare.”

“Watch me, asshole!”

A door slams and I open one eye. Caleb has been
left in the hallway sans bed sheet. He faces the door, sets his hands on either
side of the frame, and hangs his head. I can’t help but notice that’s not the
only thing hanging.

My eyes find the ceiling and I sigh. “Would you
like some help?”

He turns and faces me, covering himself with
both hands. “Yes, please.”

We look at each other, and I try not to laugh. This
is ridiculous. We’re standing a few feet apart and he’s totally naked. I’m
wearing nothing but Latson’s t-shirt and my underwear.

“Come on.” I turn to walk the few steps back to
my room. No one deserves to be Heidi’s victim, although he did bring it on
himself by getting involved with her.

When I open the door, Roxanne sits up in bed. “What
happened?”

“I stopped the sex.”

Caleb follows me into the room. “Hi.”

Roxanne’s eyes bug out of her head. “So you
brought him over here for more?”

I shoot her an “oh, please” look. I open the
closet, find an extra blanket, and toss it at Caleb.

“Thanks.” He catches it with one hand against
his leg. “Can I use your phone?”

After he calls the front desk and apologizes to
us, he leaves to meet someone with another key. I fall back into bed and close my
eyes. Apparently he and Heidi have separate rooms, which I’m grateful for. I
don’t want to hear arguing or, god forbid, make up sex. I’ve seen Caleb in all
his glory; I don’t need any more to add to the visual.  All I want to do is get
some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be hard enough; attending a funeral is always
sad. I want to be as alert as I can for Latson, and I can’t wait to hug O.

Unfortunately, when my alarm sounds, it’s way
too soon. I’ve never been a morning person, but this feels especially
torturous.

Forcing myself out of bed, I get dressed and
catch a cab to the airport. When I make it to my gate, I take a seat and look
up to watch some news channel playing on the TV. It’s not long before my
eyelids start to droop and I close them for a few minutes. Thankfully Pete is
picking me up when I land and taking me to his apartment before the service. I
hope he doesn’t mind if I nap on the way.

“Excuse me?  Miss?”

Someone nudges my shoulder. When I open my
eyes, I’m face to face with a kind-looking elderly woman.

“Yes?” I say, my voice scratchy.

“You’ve been sleeping for quite some time,” she
says. “I wanted to make sure you didn’t miss your flight.”

“Thank you.” I smile. “But my plane doesn’t leave
until eight a.m.”

Her face falls. “Oh, honey. It’s after nine.”

It can’t be. My eyes dart to the monitor behind
the ticket desk. Bold white letters advertise the time and the temperature,
along with the flight number and location. Instantly, my stomach knots. I’m not
going to Topeka, Kansas. Panic starts to set in.

I missed my flight.

I leap out of the cab as soon as it pulls up to
the cemetery.

By the time the airline found me another seat
to Chicago, I knew I would miss the church service. With a shaky voice, I
called my brother and told him how stupid I was. He tried to reassure me that mistakes
happen, but it didn’t make me feel any better. He said he would send me the
cemetery address and meet me there. After I changed clothes at the airport, I
prayed during the entire flight that I could attend most of the graveside
ceremony. When the plane touched down, my body was coiled with tension. Nothing
moved fast enough; not my feet, not the cab, and certainly not traffic.

Now, as quickly as I can, I make my way toward
the green tent and the people gathered around it. The closer I get, the more I
realize everyone is standing in small groups and talking casually.

Damn it all to hell!
  Did I
miss everything here, too?

A group standing off to the side breaks apart
and it’s then that Pete catches my eye. He waves and starts to walk in my
direction, hand in hand with Jules. The whole Torque crew follows them, and, when
we get close enough, Jules lets go of Pete and wraps me in a hug. “You made
it.”

“Not soon enough.” I frown over her shoulder. “Did
I miss it all?”

She steps back and nods. “We just finished.”

My heart sinks. “How is he?” I look at Pete. “Did
you tell him what happened?”

“I did. He seems …”  Pete rubs the back of his
neck. “He seems pretty pissed, Little J.”

A lump forms in the back of my throat. I knew Latson
would be upset.

“You should ride with Kenzie and me to the
dinner.” Gwen rubs my arm compassionately. “There’s room in my car.”

“Thanks.” I give her a weak smile.

“Jen!”

In the space between Carter and Felix I see
Oliver running toward me. He looks adorable in his little suit and tie. I kneel
down and the boys step aside, so Oliver can reach me. He throws his arms around
my neck, and I squeeze him tight. “Hi, O.”

“Uncle Gunnar said you were coming.” He leans
back. “What took you so long?”

“I got stuck at the airport,” I say. “How are
you?  I’m sorry about your grandma.”

He nods. “She was sick, but it’s okay. Know
why?”

“Why?”

“Because she’s in heaven with my mom.”

The lump in my throat gets bigger. “I’m sure
she is.”

“C’mon.” He pulls on my hand. “I want to show
you something.”

I stand and look at Gwen. “Go ahead. We’ll wait
for you,” she says.

Trailing behind Oliver, I follow him toward the
green tent. I search for Latson and find him talking to Dean and a few other people.
He stands with his hands in the pockets of his black suit, the jacket fastened
by one button at the waist. I’ve never seen him dressed so formally, and it
takes my breath away. To say he cleans up nicely is an understatement. The only
thing I wish I could change is the sad, distant look on his face. I curse
myself for screwing this up; I should have been here for him.

Oliver and I keep walking and, just when I
think he’s leading me to his grandmother, he takes me behind the green tent. As
we pass by, I get an up-close view of the deep mahogany casket covered with a
huge spray of every pastel rose imaginable. The finality of it hits me, and I
swallow. Oliver stops in front of a headstone and points. “This is my mom,” he
says in a quiet voice. “This is where I come to visit her, although Uncle
Gunnar doesn’t bring me a lot. He might more now, since Grandma is here, too.”

My breath catches. This is the last thing I
expected him to show me. The August sun reflects off a polished gray stone
etched with:

Audrey Jean Latson

Beloved Daughter, Sister, Mother

November 12, 1984 ~ April 9, 2012

“All you touch and all you see is all your life will ever
be.” ~ Pink Floyd

I crouch down and sit on the balls of my feet to
study the intricate flowers carved around the stone. They look like Lily of the
Valley mixed with Forget-Me-Nots. “This is a very special place,” I say to
Oliver. “Thank you for sharing it with me.”

He smiles, then kisses his finger and touches
the top of the stone. “This is what we do when we come here, so she knows we
love her,” he explains. “Uncle Gunnar says angels can see our kisses.”

Without warning, tears prick my eyes. What an
amazing thing for him to say.

“Oliver.”

Latson’s voice is stern behind me, and a wave
of anxiety slides down my spine. I immediately stand, but he barely glances at
me.

“Uncle Gunnar, look.” Oliver’s face lights up. “Jen’s
here.”

“We have to go.” Latson extends his hand toward
his nephew. “We don’t want to be late.” His eyes dart to me when he says the
word “late”. They’re cold. Colder than I’ve ever seen them.

“Okay,” Oliver says and reluctantly shuffles
towards his uncle. “I’ll see you at the restaurant, Jen.”

“’Kay,” I say, my voice stuck.

As they walk away, I’m rooted in place. Latson
didn’t speak to me, much less look at me.

My heart cracks, and the fissure runs to my
soul.

~~~~

Hours later, I’m curled up on Pete’s couch. I
don’t think my body can get any smaller. Maybe I’m trying to disappear, or
maybe I’m trying to hold my insides together. Either way, the feeling sucks. I’d
give anything to go back in time and fix today.

“You should go talk to him.” Jules sits by my
feet. She places a mug on the table in front of me, and I give her a confused
look. “Coffee,” she says. “You didn’t eat anything at the dinner.”

She’s right. All I did was push food around my
plate.

“I wasn’t hungry,” I say. I’m still not. I hurt
Latson, and I feel hideous.

“C’mon.” She swats me on my ass.

“Ow!”  I scowl at her. “What was that for?”

“Nothing is going to solve itself with you
sitting here. He’s right upstairs. Go. Talk. To. Him.”

“I want to,” I say. So badly.

“Then what’s stopping you?”

I shrug.

Jules lets out a sigh. “They say never go to
bed angry. You should at least go upstairs and apologize.”

She’s right. I wanted to apologize the minute I
saw Latson at the cemetery. I wanted to apologize at the dinner. However, he
was with family, and he wouldn’t acknowledge me. “I think I need to give him
some space. He just lost his mother.” I sit up and reach for the coffee. “I’m
not sure it’s the right time.”

Jules’ voice gets quiet. “When you love someone
it’s always the right time.”

I’m silent. I’m not sure if he loves me. He’s
never said it; but then again, neither have I.

“Think of it this way,” she says. “If he had
done something to hurt you, wouldn’t you want an apology?  Or at least words?”

I nod.

“So?” She prods. “Oliver should be in bed by
now. Go.”

I give her an uncertain look. “I think I should
wait until morning.”

She huffs, then grabs me by the arm and pulls
me to my feet.

“Hey!”  The coffee splashes. “You don’t have to
–”

She leads me out of the living room, then opens
the door. She takes the mug from my hands and nudges my leg with her foot. “Go
say you’re sorry. I won’t wait up.”

Rolling my eyes, I step outside the door. Without
another word she shuts it, and I’m alone.

Slowly, I make my way to Latson’s apartment. It’s
not like I don’t want to see him. It’s the exact opposite. Every part of me
aches to hold him. I want to do what I promised, to be there for him and take away
his pain. The problem is he’s angry, and I don’t know if he wants to see me.

When I reach his door, I tentatively knock and
wait for a response. When none comes, I knock again, only harder. I fidget as I
wait. I guess he could be sleeping. It’s been a long, difficult day. I would give
anything to be asleep beside him.

Sighing at the thought, I turn to leave and stop
when the door opens. Latson stands there wearing gym shorts and a t-shirt. No
fun saying graces his chest, just the solid color blue.

“Hi,” I say when he doesn’t speak. “Can we
talk?”

His face is impassive as he steps outside. He crosses
his arms, glances at the floor, and then looks at me. “What do you want to talk
about?”

“Today,” I say. “I’m sorry about today.”

“Me, too,” he says, emotionless. “I buried my
mother and my girlfriend wasn’t there.”

That hurts. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I tried to
be there. I really did.”

“Did you?” He tilts his head. “Because it
sounded to me like sleep was more important.”

What?  I’ll kill Pete if he made it sound that
way. “You have to know I didn’t do it on purpose. I had a late night. I know
it’s a lame excuse, but it’s the truth.”

Latson nods, but doesn’t look convinced. “Is
there anything else you want to tell me about last night?”

I stare at him in confusion. His tone implies I
did something wrong. “No. Heidi and Caleb were being obnoxiously loud in the
room next to mine and I couldn’t sleep.”

“Bullshit,” he snaps.

My heart starts to pound. “Excuse me?  I’m not
lying.”

“Heidi was kicked off the tour.”

“And Caleb let her back on.” I study his face. “You
can ask Roxanne. Heidi came back yesterday.”

I try to step closer to him and he steps back. It
hits me like a punch to the gut. “What’s wrong?”

He lets out a sarcastic laugh as he shakes his
head. “I just…I can’t keep up with you, Jen.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I want to believe you. It means I
want to have faith in what you say. But when I have proof otherwise, it makes
me wonder what else you’ve lied to me about.”

Hold on. “I’ve never lied to you.”

“Yeah?” I don’t like the look in his eyes. “You
promised you’d be there today and you weren’t.”

My face falls. “I know and I feel awful. I fell
asleep; it was an accident.”

“You promised you’d stay away from Caleb and you
haven’t.”

I frown. Are we back to that night at the bar? 
“I told you he found
me
and took my phone. I didn’t find him.”

“And last night?  How do you explain that?”

I’m at a loss for words. I already told him
Caleb and Heidi were next door. Does he think I booked the room?  “I don’t know
what you’re trying to say.”

He lets out a frustrated sigh. “Have you been
online today?”

“Why in the hell would I be online?” I’ve been
riding an emotional rollercoaster ever since I woke up this morning; checking social
media has been the last thing on my mind.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his
phone. “It’s all over the internet.”

What is?  Latson taps something on his cell and
hands it to me. The minute I see the pictures all the blood drains from my face.
Someone posted pictures of me and Caleb standing in the hallway. He’s facing
me, covering his junk, and I’m trying not to smile. The second photo shows us
entering my room. How is this possible?!  I read the caption and the hashtags:
The
fun things you see on tour #groupielife #renegadetour #niceass.

Oh my god. I heard someone open a door.

“I can explain.” My voice is barely there. “I
went over to shut them up. Heidi got mad about the flowers Caleb sent and she
started hitting him and –” I’m rambling.

“Flowers?” Latson goes from incredulous to
angry. “What flowers?”

Fuck. I can barely breathe. “Caleb sent me –”

Latson grabs his phone from my hand. “I’ve
heard enough.”

“But –”

“Don’t.” His eyes flash and his entire body
looks tense. “You need to go.”

I’m shaking. “Go where?”

“Anywhere but here. I can’t talk to you right
now.”

I hate the way he dismisses me. “Please.” I
reach out and graze his arm. “Let’s –”

He jerks his arm away and ignores me. He opens
his door and walks inside.

“Latson.” I step forward. “Wait.”

He slams the door in my face.

I stand there, stunned. Tears burn behind my
eyes and my heart threatens to pound out of my chest; I want to beat down the
door and run away at the same time. Never in my life have I felt so helpless. Nothing
I say will make this better. No apology will make this better.

I don’t know how long it takes me to walk back to
Pete’s. When I get there I’m grateful Jules didn’t lock the door. I try to make
it to my bedroom without anyone noticing me. It doesn’t work.