Falling Stars (16 page)

"I
wasn't sure what everyone would want, so I got a bunch of different things."
She smiled and sat on the bed.

God
I love her smile.

"We
can all just pick at the food and watch horrible reality shows all day."
She giggled.

A
day of vegetation sounded like an amazing plan. Grabbing a plate of pancakes, I
rolled one up dipped it in syrup and placed it in my mouth.
Mmm…heaven.
After eating all four pancakes, drinking two cups of coffee, and a large glass
of orange juice, my stomach was full.

Stretching
out I took note of the time. It was after noon. The weight of their eyes
followed me as I headed to the bathroom. Entering the bathroom, I caught a
glimpse of myself in the mirror and decided I needed a shower.

Setting
the temperature as hot as my skin could handle, I stepped into the spray. The
water relieved my tense muscles. My vision started to blur from the tears
welling up in my eyes. I broke down in the shower. Leaning against the tile
wall, I cried until there was nothing left in me.

The
hotel towel was fluffy and soft as I wrapped it around my damp body. After
towel drying my hair and combing through it, I went to retrieve clean clothes.

Laney
was waiting for me with clothes in her hand when I opened the door. Smiling, I
hugged her. She left while got dressed.

I
still wasn't able to process what happened last night or any of the other
nights. Giving up on thinking through it all, I padded out to the living room.
All eyes were on me when I entered the room. I looked around the room, Una,
Xander, Kat, Serena, Laney, Jackson, Jimmy, Elliott, and Nicholas.

Remaining
silent, I walked to the hotel fridge. Grabbing a bottle of water, I claimed a
spot on the couch next to Una.

"How
are you feeling?" She put her arm around me.

"Okay,"
I said quietly. Even I didn't recognize my own voice. She hugged me tighter.
Serena slid her arm through mine and moved closer to my side.

"You
really okay?" She whispered in my ear.

Smiling
small I patted her arm to reassure her.

"Mia,
I want to thank you again for your help with Christopher," Nicholas stood
and walked to the middle of the room.

I
nodded.

"I
would also like to talk with you, when you're up for it, please?"

Taking
a deep breath, I stood up.
When would there be a better time for this
conversation?

"Where
do you want to talk?"

Nicholas
looked surprised by my question.

"Mia
you don't have to do this now," Una grabbed my hand and held it tightly.

"It's
okay. I'm fine really, just tired." I smiled reassuringly and gave her
hand a squeeze. "Besides I'd rather talk than be stared at like I'm some
freak."

Elliott
chuckle as I walked by Nicholas.

"Well?"

He
gestured for me to lead and held open the hotel room door for me. Sliding on
someone's flip-flops near the door, I walked out.

"How
is he?" I couldn't look at him when I asked. Instead, I kept my head down
as we walked the hallway.

"He's
okay, stable, still drugged." He paused. "My wife, Gwen, is with him."

Nodding,
I chewed on my bottom lip. "Stable", "Drugged", I felt an
ache in my chest and the pull to go to him.

We
walked in silence the rest of the way. When we came to the rooftop pool, I took
a seat at an empty table. It was a pleasant day out for Seattle. Not too cold,
no rain, and even the sun peeked out from behind the clouds on occasion.

Nicholas
took a deep breath and exhaled dramatically. Unease rolled off him in waves. I
couldn't help but fidget while waiting for him to begin.

"I
will tell you everything I know, but I assure you that the only one who can
really tell you anything is Christopher. He is the only one that knows what
happened that night."

Nodding
in understanding, I continued to abuse my bottom lip with my teeth. Nicholas
began.

"I
was working in Chicago as a scout for Richard, trying to find the next big
artist. While I was there, I met Margaret Mason. She was in the process of
leaving her husband. We became friends, at first. After a couple of months the
relationship became physical." His face flushed with the awkwardness of
the topic.

"I,
uh, left on a trip for work and when I returned she was gone. I went to her
apartment, but it was empty. I asked around with people, her neighbors,
co-workers, etcetera, but no one knew what happened to her. She was just gone.
I tried a couple of times to find her just to make sure she was okay, but I
never found anything."

"Maybe
I should have tried harder. There isn't a day that has passed since Christopher
arrived in my life, where I haven't thought about how I should’ve looked harder
for her. Secretly, I hoped she would reappear one day, but she never did.
Months later, I moved to Seattle. I never heard from her again." I watched
his face closely. He was sad, but there was a small touch of guilt lining his
features. "It was later I found out she had given me her maiden name and
not her married name."

"It
was almost twelve years later when Christopher came to me. The police arrived
at my door asking me questions about Chicago and Maggie. I told them everything
I knew." Nicholas shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Then
they told me about Christopher and asked if I would object to a paternity test,
which I of course agreed." He paused. "After the results were in, I
flew to Chicago to meet with the police, child services, and to finally meet my
son."

"When
I arrived they told me what they could conclude from the scene. Margaret had
been killed by her husband and Collin had been found dead a few feet away from
her, where it appeared Christopher had killed him."

My
face dropped and my mouth was hanging open. I took a deep breath.

"Christopher
killed his father? Or well, step-father?"

Nicholas
nodded.

"His
father, um, step-father tried to kill them both?"

"The
police said it was determined to be self-defense."

I
furrowed my brow and bit my lip because he didn't look like he believed what he
was saying.

"But
–"

"Mia,
Christopher is the only one that really knows what happened that night, but he
never spoke about it. He didn't speak at all in fact. The doctors said it was
shock from the trauma, seeing his mother's murder." Nicholas looked up and
into my eyes.

"When
the police finally arrived to the scene and were able to get into the house,
Christopher was sitting on the floor holding his mother's body and rocking her."

Large,
warm tears spilled over my cheeks. How could anyone make it through that,
especially a small boy? I had to swallow the sobs that were building in my
throat.

"I
don't excuse Christopher's behavior Mia. He knows he needs help, but he
refuses; however, for some reason you help. I've never seen him like this with
anyone. It usually takes drugs or other methods of sedation to calm him during
a fit of rage." He sighed heavily. "I hadn't realized he was this
bad, again. The date should have registered with me. It doesn't help matters."
He shook his head and rubbed his forehead.

"The
date?" I questioned.

"Tomorrow
is the anniversary of Margaret's death." He put his head down. "I
think it's why he snapped this time."

"This
time?" I pressed.

He
nodded reluctantly.

"He
has had episodes in the past. There was a time when he constantly argued and
fought with everyone. We were constantly trying to clean up the messes he
created with fighting and destroying things."

"Why
hasn't he gotten professional help?"

Nicholas
cleared his throat.

"Gwen
and I sent him to a child therapist and a grief counselor when he was younger,
but he wouldn't participate. It became hours and hours of him sitting in
silence." He sucked in a ragged breath before continuing. "I thought
he was lost, forever."

His
small chuckle caught me off guard and I wrinkled my brow at his reaction.

"I'm
sorry. It's just that music is what brought him back."

"How
so?"

"Gwen
is a very accomplished pianist. She's played since she was four." He
smiled proudly. "It was her playing that drew Christopher back. He
migrated to the music room in our house when she would play or when she was
trying to teach Jackson. Chris was a natural, a true protégé." His smile
was one of pride, but drowned in sadness.

"Both
Gwen and I've tried multiple ways to get him more help; family meetings,
forcing him to appointments, hell we even staged an intervention, but nothing
worked." He rubbed his face roughly. "The last time he got help was
over two years ago when he took too many of those damn sleeping pills he
obtains behind my back. If Jackson hadn't needed to wake him up for a gig we
most likely would've lost him."

We
both sat in silence awhile longer until I stood up. Nicholas stood up quickly
after me.

"Are
you okay?" Concern plagued his handsome face.

Nodding
to him, the sudden urge to go back to bed filled me.

Nicholas
walked me back to my room. When I entered, it was empty. Thankful, I climbed
into the hotel bed, falling asleep quickly. My dreams were far from pleasant, filled
with images of a small boy covered in blood and tears as he rocked his mother
like a baby.

*
* * * *

My
eyes felt swollen and my body felt as if I had gone a few too many rounds with
Mayweather. I tried to speak, my lips wouldn't move.

"Christopher,
Christopher, sweetheart?"

Gwen?
Is that Gwen? Why the hell can't I see?

"Oh
Christopher honey open your eyes if you can hear me, please?"

I
tried, but nothing worked. It was all black.
Why couldn't I open my eyes?
Why didn't my body work anymore? What the hell had happened to me?

Panic
set in and I tried to scream, but only a gurgling sound emerged from my mouth.

As
I fought the darkness, light began to creep in and it was blinding. Flinching
back, I groaned at the sudden intrusion.

"Christopher?"

"Gwen?"
I finally croaked.

 "Oh
sweetheart," She sobbed.

Lifting
my hand, I clenched and unclenched it. My body was once again under my command.

"Don't
cry, please," I rasped out. She grabbed my hand tightly. I groaned at the
pain.

"Oh
crap, I'm so sorry, honey." She released my hand when she realized it was
causing me pain.

I
tried my eyes once again. The glaring light was there, but it wasn't as
intrusive as before. Squinting I rolled my head to the right.

There
she was, Gwen. With her beautiful caramel colored hair, fair skin, and
signature full red lips.

"Please?"
I asked again when I saw she was still crying.

She
stood closer to me and wiped her eyes. Her face shifted from sadness to anger.

"Don't
you ever do that to me again," She yelled.

"I'm
sorry." I wasn't quite sure what I was apologizing for, my head was still
too foggy.

My
senses were only just beginning to return. The soft beeps from machines, the
coolness of the air on my skin, and the familiar scents of rubbing alcohol and
freshly opened Band-Aids with a hint of floral were in the air. As my eyes
adjusted, I tried to sit up, catching a glimpse of a flower bouquet across the
room.

"Wait,
let me get the doctor." Gwen rushed out of the room.

Lying
back on the pillows, I took in the blue and beige hospital room. Gwen returned
dragging a man in a white coat and blue scrubs into the room behind her.

"Ma'am
I think we need to call his assigned doctor," the man pleaded.

"Non-sense,
you help my son!" She scolded and a nurse rushed into the room.

"Mrs.
Shaw, Dr. Cain is on his way now." She attempted to reassure Gwen as the
other doctor hurried out of the room.

I
couldn't help but chuckle a little, wincing from an unknown pain in my arm.
Looking down toward my hands, I noticed the bandages wrapped around them. It
all came back to me in a rush of memory.

"Oh
shit," I exclaimed and sat up. "Stacia," Groaning I covered my
face with my hands. The smell of new gauze invaded my nostrils. Gwen rushed to
my side.

"It's
okay." She hugged me and rubbed slow circles on my shoulders. "Everything
is going to be okay."

I
started shaking my head.

"No,
no it's not." Hot tears streamed down my cheeks. Gwen wiped them away.

She
held my face to hers.