Chapter 17 #2
But it didn’t matter if Braden or I said it. Right now, it was all on Cy. Had I not been so shocked that Cy had been offered a position—or that he’d been considering it—I might have been sad that he was being treated like the prodigal son: special simply because he’d been the one to rebel.
More than that, though, I was worried about Zack’s state of mind.
Cy let out a long breath. “That’s all I needed to hear.”
Zack visibly relaxed, sitting back in his chair. “If you believed in me back when we first started, believe in me now.”
“I do.”
“Good thing you’re stayin’,” Zack said as our server approached our table with two plates. “In Riot, your dickishness stands out. You’d just be one of the gang in AR.”
Cy laughed. “I guess there’s something to be said for that.”
Braden lifted his glass. “To Riot.”
We all clinked our glasses together as our food arrived. I was relieved but wondered about the future of the band…because Cy was right to worry.
And, regardless of what he said, I wondered if Cy would ever feel the same with us.
By the first week of March, Zack had been in rehab three weeks and was close to being finished.
We’d talked with him a time or two over the phone but, because he was at a rehab center in Arizona, we weren’t going to visit him.
In fact, we thought it might be better if the real world left him alone for a while.
His mother visited him two weeks in and asked if any of us wanted to send anything.
I considered baking some cookies and thought they might not allow anything that they might view as suspect—so I went shopping by myself at the Walmart in Dalton and browsed the craft supplies.
I wound up painting a small picture on a tiny two-by-two canvas with a magnet.
I painted several chains from one side to the other and then, above and below, I wrote in red letters: YOU ARE STRONG.
Then I bought a card…and stared at it for hours.
Finally, I pulled out my laptop and brainstormed, finally settling on the following message:
Zack,
I was going to say this must be hard on you, but I don’t know that. I guess the first week or two might have been rough, but I hope it’s been a little easier lately. I couldn’t tell when we talked on the phone, so I hope so.
I just wanted to tell you that you will always have a special place in my heart. We’ve been through a lot together, some bad, but a lot good. I have so many memories with you that I’ll cherish—and I know Bray and Cy feel the same way.
Get better and come back to us. We miss you.
Love,
Dani
I’d agonized a while over adding the Love at the end, knowing he might take it wrong. But I knew he wouldn’t. Our relationship had always been out of balance: I’d always loved him far more than he’d loved me—and, because I was with Braden, he would have to know I meant that as a friend.
Zack was supposed to be home the second week of March—but his mother let us know he was going to be there two more weeks.
For various reasons, the facility wanted him to stay a little longer, and the label supported this move because they wanted him fully stable and recovered before we began a fourth leg, something that was being discussed more and more.
On Wednesday of the second week, I woke up at Braden’s house before he did and picked up my phone to scroll social media and check my mail.
One of the emails was from the label. The subject line caught my attention: Royalty Statement.
At first, I bristled, because I’d gotten emails like this before, and all it did was show how in debt we continued to be.
I let out a sigh and then tapped it…because I wanted to know anyway. Maybe I was a glutton for punishment.
But I squealed, unable to contain my glee, waking Braden up.
Sitting up in bed quickly, he blinked his eyes. “Is everything okay?” Oh…he looked so adorable in his sleepy state, and I reminded myself just how lucky I was.
“Better than! Look at this,” I said, handing him my phone.
“Babe, I don’t have my contacts in.”
“Once Upon a Riot is finally in the black!” If it hadn’t been ten in the morning, I would have kept my voice lower—but, like most weekday mornings at Braden’s, I knew we were the only ones there.
“In the…wait. Do you mean we’re actually making money? Like more money than we owe?”
“That’s exactly what I mean. It’s not a ton—but we’re finally moving in the right direction.”
Braden pulled me into an embrace. We were both still naked and his body felt warm against mine—especially because a late winter storm had blown through last night and the cold seeped through his closed window.
More than once, he’d made a joke that my being there had changed his entire opinion about having a chilly room.
He started kissing my neck as his hands moved over my back. I said, “I need to brush my teeth.”
“Yeah,” he muttered. “I probably should too.”
Reaching over the side of the bed, I found my t-shirt and pulled it over my head. “Race you to the bathroom!”
Braden shared the main bathroom with his sisters and his parents had their own in their room.
Luckily, his sisters and I got along well.
The oldest, two years younger than Braden, was attending the community college and the youngest was still in high school.
I left a few things in the bathroom but I’d often leave my makeup bag in there when I spent the night, and, on weekend mornings, we sometimes swapped makeup tips and talked about our favorite brands.
I still didn’t feel comfortable around his parents, but I loved his sisters. Finally, as an adult, I was finding women I could relate to, women I could relax around and be my real self.
By the time I was done brushing, Braden still hadn’t made it to the bathroom.
I considered showering but decided to check on him.
Based on how the light from outside through the curtains seemed bright, I knew there was snow out but that the sun was shining on it.
It was a typical late winter storm—heavy and wet—and it would melt quickly now that the sun was working on it.
Aw…Braden had fallen back asleep—and who could blame him? I’d rudely awakened him. Peeking through the curtains, I confirmed what I’d thought. I could see the street from Braden’s window. The roads looked slushy, but if I drove slowly, I could make it home just fine.
And that was what I wanted to do. I wanted to spend more time gazing at that lovely spreadsheet attached to the email on a larger screen and start to figure out where life was going from here.
As I’d told Braden, our cut wasn’t a lot.
In fact, I’d made more in a month at my fast food job in Denver—but there was finally a possibility.
I wanted to project the numbers and see what we could expect by the next statement—because I knew that would be serious money.
As I pulled on my clothes, a sadness washed over me…because Zack was locked away in rehab, unable to celebrate this huge milestone with us. I didn’t even know the next chance we’d have to talk with him.
Behind me, I heard Braden. “Are you leaving?”
“Yeah.” I told him my spreadsheet plans.
“I didn’t know you were such a math nerd.”
I laughed. “I’m not! But…maybe I’m an accounting nerd. Who knew?”
“Hey, that could be your fallback profession if this music thing doesn’t work out.” Sitting up, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and picked up his shirt off the nightstand. “We should celebrate tonight.”
“Yeah, I thought about that…but it doesn’t feel right without Zack.”
As he walked over to his dresser, his voice grew lower. “You’re right. Maybe the three of us could talk to him at the same time and tell him the good news. I’ll call Lacey and see if she thinks we can do that.”
Lacey…I still couldn’t get her name in my head, thinking of her instead as “Zack’s mom” or “Ms. Ryan.” But Braden had known her far longer than I had and she considered him a second son.
They had a great relationship—but I didn’t see how anyone couldn’t with her.
Although she could have been considered a fierce defender of her son, she was warm and loving with all his friends.
“Thanks.” Shoelaces tied, I stood, smoothing down my shirt. “Call me later and let me know.” I gave him a peck on the cheek.
“I’m gonna scrape your windshield.”
Oh…sweet Braden. He’d been doing that ever since I’d started spending the night at his place. He’d go out and start my car, scraping off the frost and getting it nice and warm before I left. But he didn’t need to do that today. “There’s nothing to scrape. It’s getting warm outside.”
“There’s probably ten inches of snow on your car. I’ll brush it off for you.”
I sighed. “Fine. Let’s do it together.”
Hand in hand, we walked down the stairs…and I reminded myself that I was the luckiest girl in the world. It had become a mantra.