Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Ryan
I t is way too early.
I’m spending the day with my sister before my mom’s birthday party at the local hot spot, opened by one of my best friends’ brothers.
Food, drinks, dancing, games on the outside patio…
his bar is always a good time. My sister planned the party for early in the evening.
They clear away the tables at eight each night to make way for the dance floor.
Sp ending a night out with my sister I can handle.
Time with my parents? I’m not exactly looking forward to.
“Thanks for coming into the shop with me this morning. I appreciate the extra set of hands.”
“Well, I’m not home for long. This is the only way to get alone time with you.” I bump my hip against hers, and she bumps me back.
Rebecca, or Becks as I call her, is good people.
I know she loves me, even if she hasn’t always had my back.
Dad put her in a difficult position. He’s a cruel man who drew a line in the sand when I was a kid, putting me on the opposite side of him, Mom, and Becks.
What Dad said and felt was gospel. The wrath Mom and Becks would endure for crossing his line wasn’t worth it.
I wasn’t worth it.
For the most part, I’ve let it go. My sister was just a kid I don’t blame her. My relationship with my mother is a bit more complicated. She should have protected me from Dad’s mental and emotional abuse, but she didn’t. I should have felt safe in my own home, and I didn’t.
“Thanks for coming home. I know you’re busy, but I’m glad to have you here for tonight. I wish you came home more often.”
“I wouldn’t miss Mom’s party. Besides, I want to check on Pops and spend time with my niece and nephew. It’s good timing. I could use the break.”
“What’s it like being on tour with the biggest rock band of our time?” she asks as she finishes the latte she’s making and yells out the name of the older gentleman who’d ordered it. No matter how much time passes, working in my sister’s coffee shop, The Hollow Cafe, is like riding a bike.
“A lot less exciting than you would imagine. Except for Knox and Trevor, they all have wives and kids, so there’s no partying, no groupies going back to the bus or the hotels. If not for their celebrity friends that stop by each show, it’d be pretty boring.”
“Shut up. You want me to believe Knox McKinnon doesn’t have a ho in every area code?”
“Not that I’ve seen.”
And trust me, I would notice.
“Well, that’s unexpected. The media would sure like us to believe differently.”
As I ring up the next customer, I consider her last comment.
She’s right. My time around Knox has been a complete 180 to what I expected.
I’m sure if I searched his name on my phone right now it would say he was getting laid by the latest it girl or plastered at some club.
Yet, I’ve barely seen him drink. Haven’t seen a single woman with him after the show, on the bus or at the hotel.
Sure, there are always groupies of some sort waiting to party after every show, but he doesn’t give them the time of day.
“Don’t believe everything you read.”
“Noted.”
We get back to our companionable process of me taking the orders and dishing up pastries while she makes the drinks, enjoying my time with her while I can.
“Pops, you sure you don’t want to come to the party? I’d be happy to take you and bring you back whenever you’re ready. ”
“Nah, I don’t want to be a hassle.”
“You could never be a hassle. I would be happy to bring you as my date tonight.”
“You just leave me right where I am. Seeing your face is all this old man needed.” He squeezes my hand that has been holding his since I got here.
I can’t bring myself to let go.
He’s in a good place today, with his dementia taking a backseat during my visit.
When I walked into his room, his eyes lit up and he said my name, causing my emotions to get the better of me.
The result was a tearful hug hello and a full, peaceful heart.
He sang the same few lines about Frank Sinatra’s “New York”, he croons every time he sees me since I moved to the city.
Pops is always singing or whistling. Besides karaoke maybe once a year, he’s the only person I’ve ever sung with. I didn’t even sing in school performances. I mouthed the words to every song.
Insecurity has the damnedest effects.
This is the first time I’ve been home since we moved my grandfather into the assisted living facility. It’s nice; the staff seem kind and Pop’s suite has a living area and a sleeping area. He has everything he needs, but it’s still not home.
Without grandma, home would never be home to him again.
They were together for over sixty years, and he hasn’t been the same since losing her.
Watching him decline has been heartbreaking.
I can’t imagine what it’s been like for my family who live here, watching it happen before their eyes.
There are times the guilt of leaving my sister to deal with all our family issues weighs me down, but Pops got it.
He knew the truth about my home life, and he was a lifeline for me, encouraging me to leave and forge my own path.
Some of my published articles are framed and hung on the walls here in his new home.
My grandparents always made sure I felt loved.
Always told me how proud of me they were.
This is why I didn’t give paying for Pop’s care a second thought. It was a no-brainer.
“Well, I’m gonna miss you. I’m sorry I don’t see you nearly enough.”
He lifts my hand currently in his to his heart. “Little lady, you’re always in here. Don’t ever feel bad for spreading your wings to fly. Your grandma and I love hearing about all of your adventures. We love seeing you so happy.”
I don’t miss that he mentions grandma in the present tense. The sentiment overrides his slip up. My tears are back. I already miss him.
“Thanks, Pops.”
“Don’t let that angry son of mine tell you any different. You deserve to be happy, and if that means you have to live far away from here, so be it.”
“I love you,” I say, wrapping my arms around him.
“I love you to the moon and back, sweetheart.”
Much too soon, I release him and head for the door. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Not unless I see you first,” he says, as he always does.
I glance at him one last time and he lifts his hand to his heart, reminding me I’m always with him before I close his door behind me.
My tears accompany me out of the building, to my rental car and all the way to my sister’s place. I can’t help but wonder if the next time I see him will be this good. Will he remember me ?
What if there isn’t a next time?
Before getting out of the car, I take several cleansing breaths and put Pops in a nice little box in my brain to visit again later when I don’t have to be pleasant and sociable.
I rush into Beck’s house and clean myself up.
There isn’t a lot I can do about my puffy eyes, considering I’m already five minutes late.
It’s July in Central Oregon, so it’s hot and putting my hair up, and throwing on a sundress and sandals is as good as it’s gonna get.
Locking the house up behind me, I scroll through my contacts, smiling when I find the childhood nickname of one of my oldest friends.
Ryan
We still on for tonight?
Sherbert
Can’t wait. I want to hear all about life on the road with the infamous Knox McKinnon! Lol See you at 8.
Ryan
Knox hates me. There isn’t much to talk about.
Sherbert
WTF? Sounds like we have a lot to talk about.
Relieved I’ll get to relax after Mom’s party, I shove my phone in my dress pocket and walk the three blocks from Becks’s to the party mentally preparing myself to see my parents.
Before I enter, I take another much-needed deep cleansing breath and pull open the door, my armor in place as I step inside.
As much as I love this bar, I block out any emotion I have attached to the building. The fun nights dancing with cowboys and drinking with friends are pushed to the back of my mind, as I numb the memories and brace myself against the onslaught that awaits me.
I see my sister first and pull her into a hug just inside the door.
“Sorry I’m late. I was at Pops’.”
“No worries, there wasn’t really any set up to be done. You’re fine.”
“You sure?” I pull back to look in her eyes.
“I’m sure.” Her eyes dart over my shoulder, and she takes a step backward.
“Well, if it isn’t the globetrotting princess finally seeing fit to join us.”
The pity on my sister’s face is familiar. I’ve seen it a thousand times. I give her a wink, hoping to reassure her I’m fine. We’re still near the door and out of earshot of the rest of the bar.
“Hey, Dad. Good to see you.”
The other patrons can’t hear us, but we aren’t out of sight, so I step toward him with my arms open and he follows suit, his lips spreading into a practiced smile as we embrace.
“You’re too good to show up early and help your sister set up. Seems some things never change.”
“Sorry, I was with Pops and time got away from me. He seems happy in his new place. ”
Dad pats my back. “Aw, there she is. The martyr showing her true colors.”
Mom steps up behind Dad, giving me a timid wiggle of her fingers.
Ignoring the words I’m sure Dad hoped would sting, I release him to get to Mom.
There is no facade behind this embrace. I hug her and she hugs me back.
“Happy birthday, Mom. I missed you.”
“Thanks for coming, sweetheart. I missed you too.”
Stepping back, I look her over, gauging how she’s doing. “You good?” I ask quietly, knowing Dad is right behind me.
“Of course, dear.” Linking her arm with mine, she walks me toward the group of people here to celebrate her. “Come on. Everyone’s excited to see you and hear all about your time on tour with the boys.”
“Yes, time for you to brag about how much better you are than the rest of us small town hicks,” Dad says as he walks past us, leaving a dark cloud hovering over Mom on her special day.