Part 13 (1/2)
A KNOCK KNOCK on the door, timid and almost inaudible, aroused Bro from his sullen mood. on the door, timid and almost inaudible, aroused Bro from his sullen mood.
”Go away!”
The door opened anyway, and Mr. Teasdale's embarra.s.sed face peeked in. ”May I come in?” he asked with a shaky voice.
”Whatever.” Bro wanted to stay mad, and this music teacher would be the perfect target. All the recent changes in his life had come to a head, and he wanted to scream and shout, kick and break. He wanted everything to stop spinning out of control so d.a.m.n fast and slipping through his fingers. And most of all, he wanted Lacey with him. Forever, if at all possible.
Mr. Teasdale came in, closed the door, and leaned against it. Then he broke the silence by suddenly asking, ”Do you know where the music schools I mentioned are?”
Bro gritted his teeth and leaned against his bed's headboard, staring stubbornly out the window. ”Seattle?”
”No.” Mr. Teasdale shook his head. ”They are all on the East Coast.”
That got Bro's attention, and his gaze snapped toward the shy man floundering by the door, seemingly trying to decide whether to walk closer to the young man or stay put. ”What?”
”The Curtis Inst.i.tute of Music is in Philadelphia, Was.h.i.+ngton College in Chestertown, just across Chesapeake Bay, and the Peabody Conservatory in Baltimore. The last two are the closest to DC. And surely you know Juilliard is in New York, as is Carnegie Mellon. The New England Conservatory is in New England, of course. Boston, to be precise. Right from the start, when Lacey and I first spoke about her options before the turn of the year, it was obvious to her she would want to stay on the East Coast, to stay close to you.”
Bro trembled. Had he mistaken the situation so G.o.dd.a.m.n badly? Had he let his teenage hormones get the better of him, addle his brain so badly he couldn't even remember where some of those world-famous schools were, control him with undeserved fury? f.u.c.k! f.u.c.k! ”I....” ”I....”
Mr. Teasdale's expression changed to a more patient, serious one, and his tone reflected that. ”You do understand Lacey is one of the finest young violinists out there, and not just any college will do for her? She has a gift, a true natural talent, and it needs to be cultivated, encouraged, and nurtured. She wants to make a career in music-” He paused, frowning. ”-but she also wants to be with you. That is why she focused on conservatories and colleges relatively close to DC. Her home.”
The shame Bro felt then knew no bounds. G.o.d, how could he have been so stupid? He had a.s.sumed most of those fancy places would be all over the country, maybe even in Seattle. Bro knew he couldn't go that far to live, not even for Lacey. He couldn't leave his family behind, not when he had lost so many family members already. His father was dead, while his still-living mother was a coldblooded, reticent woman who felt no love for her two imperfect sons. The mere thought of leaving Sebastian and the new family they had formed was too horrible to contemplate.
But to realize that Lacey had understood and was willing to sacrifice some of the best schools of music in the world to be with Bro.... G.o.d, he had f.u.c.ked up so royally.
He bounced up on his feet, heading for the door. ”I have to talk to Lacey before-”
”She's not here,” Mr. Teasdale said, causing Bro to stop in midstride.
”Where is she?” He squelched the urge to grab the man's lapels and shake him until answers fell from him like ripe fruit from a tree. He wasn't a violent person, though, and besides, this had been his mess, so it was his responsibility to clean it up, without b.i.t.c.hing.
Mr. Teasdale spoke matter-of-factly as he said, ”She wanted to see her father. Jordan and Kevin agreed to take her.”
At that Bro was stunned and terrified beyond belief. He ran out the door as if the devil were on his heels.
”ROGER'S been released on bail, so he should be home.” Jordan's words were as cool and calm as ever, and they soothed Lacey's frayed nerves as she sat next to him in his SUV. They were driving to her home, or former home. Kevin sat in the back, silent. been released on bail, so he should be home.” Jordan's words were as cool and calm as ever, and they soothed Lacey's frayed nerves as she sat next to him in his SUV. They were driving to her home, or former home. Kevin sat in the back, silent.
”Thanks.” She wondered if her voice sounded as foreign to him as it did her.
”You still wanna do this?” Jordan asked. His concerned, wary gaze landed on her with its usual intensity.
”Yes, I do.” About that she was adamant. ”For closure, you know.”
”It's not necessary, certainly not right now.”
”It is for me, and what better time than right now?”
Jordan sighed a little. ”Look, Bro didn't mean-”
”I don't want to talk about that right now,” Lacey cut him off sharply.
”Okay.” Jordan shrugged, but Lacey had an inkling Jordan was far from done with this subject. She had been given a reprieve, but in true family fas.h.i.+on, it wasn't over, not by a long shot.
Jordan slowed down, steered to the curb, and parked the car close to the house. Lacey saw lights on inside, in the living room but nowhere else. She shuddered. Her father had not been a bad man for most of his life, so Lacey still stubbornly refused to believe Roger had gone off the deep end with finality. During the fight, she had felt that way, but the hope within wouldn't die.
With that thought in mind, she got out of the car and walked to the front door. She felt Jordan and Kevin flank her and was grateful for their support and protection. Yes, with her new martial arts skill Lacey would probably have been able to take her father down alone if he tried anything, but that was hardly the point of this meeting.
She hadn't realized she'd been standing there in front of the door for a minute or so until Jordan touched her shoulder, silently asking her what she wanted to do.
Nodding, Lacey used her keys to unlock the door.
The light in the hallway was off, but one was on in the living room. Roger sat on the couch, a beer bottle in hand, his unseeing gaze directed at a black TV screen. Lacey noticed how lifeless he seemed, how slumped his stance, how motionless his very being, gaze dull, face blank. And he looked older, too, at least twenty years older than he was in reality. Was it a consequence of all the drinking, or the sorrow of loss, or remorse for his misdeeds? Lacey swallowed, feeling small and fearful. She still loved this man-who apparently didn't love her.
Maybe blood isn't thicker than water.
When he heard the door close, Roger glanced up. At first there was no recognition, but then his eyes widened, and he struggled to get up. The beer bottled dropped from his hand onto the rug, spilling its foamy contents, but he picked it up and placed it on the table. Lacey observed he hadn't used a coaster, and Lexie would have given him h.e.l.l for it.
”Hi, Dad,” Lacey said quietly.
Roger's hair was a s.h.a.ggy mop, his skin pale, and his clothes rumpled. Yet, as he came closer slowly-not staggering, exactly, but less than steady on his feet-Lacey smelled no alcohol on his breath. Was that a good sign? Wait, hadn't he had a beer bottle in hand a second ago?
”Lacey.” Roger said only the name, then appeared stumped. She didn't think he even saw the two men standing at her sides. ”I, uh... I didn't expect to see... I mean, um....” Then his jaw trembled, and he shook violently. There was wetness in his eyes and on his cheeks now. ”Oh G.o.d, son. What have I done?”
He held out his arms, as if waiting for Lacey to run right to him. But she couldn't. She didn't have enough trust in the genuineness of the gesture. So Lacey pointed at the couch. ”We should probably sit down.”
Awkwardly, Roger nodded and then walked back to the sofa, slumping down like a weighty puppet. ”Lance, I have behaved so-”
”My name is Lacey,” she cut him off. She was surprised to hear how calm she sounded even to her own ears. Was she in denial, or in shock, or losing her mind? ”I know I'm not the kind of son you wanted, but this is who I am. I could change for you, because you're my father and I love you. But I won't. I. Will. Not.”
Roger's face twisted, but to Lacey it looked more like agony than wrath. ”I know.”
Though that surprised her, Lacey ventured onward. ”All that's happened to you lately, Dad... it's not my fault. You always tell me to grow up and be a man. You should follow your own mantra. I did not put the bottle in your hands and force the alcohol down your throat. You did that all by yourself. I did not make you hit me, either. You did that, too, by your own choice.” She paused to take a calming breath. ”I miss Mom too. So much sometimes it kills me. But no matter how many drinks you consume or how many times you slap me around, she's not gonna come back.”
Roger said nothing. His jaw kept twitching, though, and he was wringing his hands. Then, finally, he said quietly, ”I wish I could say it was just the drink talking, Son. I really do.” He brushed his forehead, sweaty and pale. ”I wish it was just about your mother, but it's everything. Oh, G.o.d, I didn't want you to find out like this....”
”Find out what?” Lacey's heart d.a.m.n near stopped.
Roger let out a guttural groan that turned into a sad sob. ”A month ago I... I lost my job because of the drinking.”
”Dad....” Lacey's head was spinning, and so was her life, and her father's life. Their life as a family.
”But for the better part of the past year, even before I lost my job, I took money out of your college fund to pay the bills and... everything else.”
Booze, you mean, and maybe some gambling too, or whatever. Lacey felt her own hands shaking, though her mind felt blank and sort of numb. Shock again, huh? Familiar territory for you, sister Shock again, huh? Familiar territory for you, sister. ”Dad, how could you?”
”I was going to replace it all, but... but things just spiraled out of control.” Roger was desperate, she could hear it. He was sorry, but it was too late now.