The Redemption (32 page)

The stars seem to sparkle tonight, so unlike most LA nights. Where are the clouds and the smog? I prefer when the weather suits my moods. My mood didn’t seem to faze Mother Nature, which kind of bothered me.

I pull a handful of grass blades, hold it up in the air, and let them fall to the ground. There’s no breeze to carry them, so they land on my stomach as does my youngest when he comes and flops down.

Grunting, I say, “Careful, buddy. You’re getting big.” CJ stands and I lift my legs, then bend at the knees. “Let’s do airplane.”

He moves quickly, always loving when we do this. I brace myself as he adjusts his belly onto my shins. When I lift, he squeals in happiness. “Look at me,” he says.

“Look at you. You look like Superman.”

His arms go wide and his legs straight out, and he says, “Superman needs to go potty.”

“Eeps.” I set him down and he runs inside.

Neil comes running from the swing set and stops next to me. “My turn. My turn.”

“Yep, your turn.” Neil rests on my legs and I lift. His smile is so sweet, so happy that I smile too. His arms automatically go out and his legs straighten.

Straightening my legs even more, I say, “Great Superman, Neil.”

“My turn next.” I turn to see Dex standing there.

My legs wobble when I hear his voice, but I steady them along with my heart. Glancing over at him, I smile, not able to hide my happiness.

“Dex!” Neil says, “Look at me.”

“I’m looking, bud. Good job. How’s the drumming?”

Neil shrugs, throwing himself off-balance, so I lower my legs quickly so he lands on his feet safely. With a smile meant just for me, Dex eyes me. “Hi.”

“Hi,” I reply. It’s not hot out, but I feel hotter all of the sudden.

“Beth let me in. Hope it’s okay.” He licks his lips and it’s hard to take my eyes off of his mouth, making me gulp.

Neil stands there, glancing between us.

Lifting up on my elbows, I say, “I’m free.”

Dex questions, “Free?”

“You said it was your turn next.” I signal to my legs.

Neil laughs. “Mom is strong, Dex. She never drops us.”

“That’s good to hear. I think I’d rather be base though.” He comes and lies next to me in the grass. “Airplane?” he offers with a wry grin and slips his shoes off.

I nod as I get up. Positioning myself with his feet against my stomach, I reach down and our fingers entwine as our hands come together. The heat between us sparks fading embers back to life. He lifts up, surprising me, and we both laugh.

“Do Superman, Mom,” CJ says, running outside, delighted by the sight.

“I’m Wonder Woman.” I release Dex’s hands and put my arms out and straighten my legs behind me. The boys start chasing each other, running around us in circles.

Beth calls the boys inside for homework. She gives me a knowing wink. “I’ll just stay a little longer so you guys can talk.”

“Thanks,” I reply before turning back to him.

Dex stares into my eyes and says, “I never thanked you.”

“Thanked me for what?” I ask, reaching down until our hands are connected once again.

“What you did for me that day. Coming to Barstow with Tommy and then… rehab.”

Remembering what Johnny said to me years earlier, I say, “You don’t have to thank me. The Resistance is a family. We take care of one another.”

He nods a little before lowering me back to the ground. When he sits up, I sit down across from him. Lowering his gaze to the ground, he pauses. Just from his body language I brace myself. When his eyes meet mine again, I see the remorse in his entire expression. “I wanted to die.”

Much like I was doing before he showed up, I grab a handful of grass, ripping it from its roots. This time from anxiety over the topic. “Why?”

“I couldn’t see the big picture.”

“You were blinded by the details.”

“I was cursed by the memories.”

I glance down needing a second, then say, “Memories of me?”

His fingers run over my knee, then his hand stills. “I hadn’t done drugs since Cory’s death, but I did them that night. I took everything I could find and then called friends who gave me more.”

“They’re not friends if they gave you drugs, Dex. They’re enemies.”

“Drugs are good about keeping your perspective skewed away from reality. Let’s just say my perspective was skewed.”

I don’t mean to snap at him, but it slips out. “Where’d you meet those girls?”

He clears his throat. “I don’t know.” His tone then changes, lowers, just like his hand does as he replies, “I don’t know how I got to Barstow either. I just remember that ride to rehab.”

“That was a hard ride to take.”

“God, that day sucked. But yeah, I never thanked you. I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t been there for me.”

“Tommy was there too.”

“Tommy…” He shifts his weight and stands up. “…He’s been a good friend to me.” When he looks down, I see the words he’s going to say in his expression. The embarrassment he feels coloring his words. “I was ashamed you saw me like that. But you should know that you were the only reason I walked out of that motel room.”

“Dex,” I say, feeling the pressure on my chest, making it harder to swallow. I take his hand and lead him to the tire swing.

“I wouldn’t have left for Tommy. I know it. But then you were there… I hated myself for letting you see me like that. I hated myself in general. But I only got up because I couldn’t do that to you. I couldn’t put you through anymore pain with the pain you had already been through.”

We sit opposite from each other and I cover his hand with mine on the chain. “You always say you’re not a good guy, but a bad guy wouldn’t have thought twice about my feelings in a time like that.”

He doesn’t blush but I see that the compliment embarrasses him in a good way. “Do you remember that night at my party?” he asks

“I could never forget.”

He rubs his chin. “I shouldn’t admit this, but I watched you down by the pool.”

“How long were you up there?”

“Most of the party.”

“Why?” I ask.

“I was sitting there in the middle of this party full of people there to celebrate my birthday and I realized I didn’t like half of them. Most of the others I didn’t even know. Then there was you.” He spins us by kicking off from the ground.

I lean my head back toward the sky and smile watching the world spin out around us. Closing my eyes, I enjoy the cool breeze as he pushes off again. “What about me?” I laugh, loving the lightness of my body and the conversation.

“You’re a tease, Rochelle.”

I open my eyes and waggle my eyebrows at him. As he pushes off again, my body sways to the left and I go with it, letting my arms straighten. “I wasn’t teasing that night. I felt lost, but when I think back, I wasn’t.” I lock eyes with him. “I was there for you.”

“You were Eve in a garden of evil that night. An angel appearing out of nowhere.” He plants his foot and we come to an abrupt stop. “You didn’t come looking for me, but you found me all the same. Tell me it meant something.”

“It meant everything to me.” He releases his intense gaze on me and smiles. I hop off the swing and walk to him. Placing my hands on his shoulders, I touch him gently. “I’m not trying to inflate your ego. I’m just telling you the truth.”

He playfully pokes me in the side. “Too late. My ego is already inflated.”

Laughing, I surprise him and spin the tire, sending him spinning. “Well in that case, I’ll have to try harder.”

I walk away, leaving him whirling. To my surprise, I’m grabbed from behind just seconds later. His lips touch the shell of my ear, his arms holding me tight, and he says, “I like the sound of that.”

My body is instantly covered in goosebumps as I take a staggered breath and lean my head into the nook of his neck.

One kiss. One sweet kiss to that most hidden place behind my ear. He makes me want to ravage him, his touch always filling me with temptation and desire. One day I’m going to torture him just as sweetly. When the heat of his body leaves mine, I realize today isn’t that day. But soon.

Very soon.

The funny thing about revelations are that they hit you when you least expect it. I’d been sitting here the last week thinking Dex was choosing to work on his life, which means we get put on hold. What I hadn’t thought about is how I play into his plans, his life, or his future. I also hadn’t thought about what I want for my kids and myself. It was easy when we were together. Everything with him feels so right.

But when we’re not together, I wonder if he falls apart like I do. I wonder if this is why he doubts himself. More importantly, am I in any position to help him? He hasn’t committed some great sin that can’t be forgiven. I think he’s just caught in a cycle of destruction, one where he’s more comfortable dealing with than the change ahead.

After texting him a few times and leaving a few messages for him after calling him and getting no answer, I did exactly the opposite of what I wanted to do and I backed away.
It was a hard month.
He stopped calling, the letters didn’t continue, and unless I had business with him, I didn’t hear from Dex at all. It made me wonder if he’d always be damaged enough to not see the good through the bad. For his sake, I hope not.

Sometime in early November something arrived at the house, a letter of a different sort. The letterhead was labeled The Roosevelt Hotel in Hollywood. I opened it and read:

Rochelle,

I’m lost without you. I needed time, thinking it would get easier, but it hasn’t. My life is worse. I’ve done things I regret and I don’t know how to repent.

How do you save an unsalvageable soul that doesn’t want to be saved? I want to drown in things that will make me lose my mind, so I can live in the numbness, even if only temporarily.

There’s a void that music can’t fill, that other women won’t fix, that drugs won’t blur, and that time won’t relent.

My drug of choice these days is you…

Can you heal a damaged soul?

Love,

Dex

He’s gotten good at dropping these bombshells. But what he’s written concerns me—Barstow coming to mind. The envelope is post-dated two days ago. Today is Friday and I have three hours before the kids get out of school. I grab my keys and head out, my mission—The Roosevelt.

Walking up to the front desk, I introduce myself. “Hi, I’m Rochelle Floros, and I need to see if one of my business partners is still staying here.”

The young man, mid-twenties, blonde, brown eyes, smiling. “Good afternoon. I’m Bruce. Hey, you’re with The Resistance, right?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry about Cory Dean. He was the most amazing guitar player.”

I should be used to his name being spoken in conversation by others and hearing Cory spoken about in the past tense, but some days are easier for me than others. Today, I’m walking a fine line. “Thank you. I appreciate that. I know he would have too.”

Bruce’s smile tightens and he leans forward to whisper, “Are you here to see Dex Caggiano?”

“I am. Is he still here?”

“He hasn’t left his room in four days.”

I sigh. “I know it’s against policy, but I need to see him, so is there any way you’ll share his room number with me?”

“Actually, you’re the only one he has on his guest list, so it’s not a problem at all. He also left a key for you. Let me get it.”

Trying to remain calm, like that’s not a huge surprise is hard, but I manage to act as normal as possible. “Thank you.”

After I get the key, I’m directed to the elevators. Though dread fills my stomach, feeling like an ulcer is forming, I don’t hesitate when I exit onto his floor. I anxiously walk down the hall until I reach his suite. I’d knock, but something tells me he left a key for a reason, so I use it and walk inside.

Dex is lying on the couch, facing the window. The curtains are open with a perfect view of the Hollywood sign outside it. I set my purse and the key down on the table before sitting down in a chair next to him.