Rekindle (22 page)

The next morning is horrendous. My head is throbbing like someone just landed a jet on it. I roll over, take two of the aspirin that Tanner gave me last night, and head to take a shower. Maybe that will at least make me feel human.

“Jumping in the shower, Tanner,” I yell from the bathroom door.

“Hurry the hell up, man. We got shit to do and places to be.”

I grunt because I don’t feel like doing anything but sleeping and feeling sorry for myself, but I know Tanner isn’t going to let that happen, so I jump in the shower and get ready to take on whatever he has planned.

“Where are we headed, exactly?”

“You’ll see. Just think of this as a day for you to reflect.”

Oh shit. This can’t be good. This has got to be one of his famous life lessons, and I’m not in the mood.

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch, sweetheart. It’s not that bad, I swear,” he says as if he can read my mind.

I ride in silence the whole way to Mama’s Kitchen, a small diner right outside of town. They have the best soul food around, but I have no idea why he’s brought me here. I look over at Tanner, bewildered.

“Just go inside.” He nods his head at the door.

I walk into Mama’s Kitchen and see none other than Emma’s dad sitting at the booth directly in front of me. He motions me to his table. I can’t be rude, so I walk over, just as I see Tanner take a seat at the bar.

“I need to talk to you, son.”

I nod my head in understanding.

“I don’t want you to say anything. Just listen and pay close attention to what I’m about to tell you. My wife and I couldn’t have kids. Tried for years, but it just wasn’t in the cards for us. We struggled with it forever but finally accepted it. That’s when my wife happened upon Linda and learned the story behind Emma Grace. She talked to me about her and her situation for days. When she couldn’t get Emma off her mind, we decided to adopt. She was the biggest blessing for us. Vibrant, beautiful, and caring, but you already know this. She is my baby girl. I need you to know that we were with her last night. I know exactly what’s going on with you two. The worst thing for a father is to hold his baby girl while she cries her eyes out and there’s nothing you can do to fix it. I’m coming to you because I know a man in love when I see one, and I know a man speaking out of pain when I see it. Last night was bad for both of you. Lines were crossed and stuff was said that shouldn’t have been, but let me explain something to you. Emma’s whole life, she’s had to endure loss. Everything and everyone she’s ever loved at one point was yanked from her life. She’s older now, but in her subconscious, she still links love with loss. She isn’t second-guessing your relationship or you, Rhett. In her mind, she’s trying to save you, because everything she loves dies. Don’t let love slip away. Don’t let her slip away. Prove her wrong, son. Show her that love is a beautiful gift, not something to cower away from.”

“I’m so sorry, sir. I feel like such a douche. I knew she still had anxiety, but I never thought of it that way.”

“It’s okay, Rhett. Just go fix it.”

“Between you and me, I’m not so sure it’s fixable.”

“It’s always fixable if it’s done from the heart. Love’s never easy, but damn if it’s not the best feeling in the world.”

I shake his hand and head to Tanner.

“You are a sneaky bastard,” I say, sitting down next to Tanner.

“Don’t sit down, asshole. We’ve got a woman to win back.”

“That we do, Tanner. That we do,” I say as we head back to his truck. It’s time to go make things right.

Chapter Thirty

Emma Grace

I look like hell.

Correction: I look like I was beaten within an inch of my life, rolled through dog shit, and then sent through the fiery pits of Hell… And that’s being modest.

Cam is looking at me like I’m cracked crystal that will shatter at any moment. She’s been by my side since I called her Saturday night when Rhett left. She’s heard the whole story—how my crazy, mucked-up mind turned a great night to complete shit in the blink of an eye. These have single-handedly been the worst two days of my life.

“Have you talked to him?” she asks tentatively.

“Not since the horrible text exchange we had. I don’t even know what to do. How do I fix this when I can’t even explain it?”

“You’ve got to figure out what caused you to flip, Emma Grace. No one can do that for you.”

“I know, it just like—”

Cam cuts me off by holding up her hand. “I’m not the one you have to explain it to, babe.”

“I know. God! I’m a hot mess.”

Cam smiles but doesn’t disagree.

“I’ve gotta get out of here before I’m late,” I say as I walk by and kiss her cheek. “See you tonight.”

“Later.”

This day has been a complete blur. I’m sure all of my students have noticed that I’m not with it. It’s written all over me. My mind has been a jumbled mess since Saturday, and I can’t get it under control.

The bell rings and my honors students make their way in. I gave them an assignment last week that I was so excited about. We’ve been studying poetry. Since the poetry of the past can be a little harder to relate to, I wanted to give them a chance to work with more relevant, familiar poetry.

“Afternoon, guys!” I announce to quiet the room. I make my way to the front of the class and plug in the docking station and laptop.

“I hope everyone had a great weekend. We’re going to go ahead and get started on last week’s assignment, because I want to get as many in each day as we can.” I hop up on the unoccupied desk in the front of the room.

“Now, as I said last week, song lyrics are the most common form of poetry that our society is exposed to on a regular basis. So, we’re going to play the song you chose and then give you a chance to expound its meaning. You’ll have all the time you need, so don’t worry about that. And calm your nerves.” I smile to reassure them. “There is no right or wrong answer. Sometimes, poetry is very basic and literal. Other times, it’s subjective. It’s all about what these lyrics mean to
you
.”

I level my eyes on my students, making sure they know they won’t be judged by me or anyone else for their interpretation or song choice. “Alright, Natalie, let’s start with you.”

I take my place in the back of the room as the students take turns, one by one, playing their music and interpreting the lyrics. Some—mostly my boys—pick easier songs and don’t dive too deep into their emotional side, and others choose more complex songs, diving into the lyrics and dissecting them line by line. It’s exciting to see the diversity in the class—country music, rock and roll, R&B. Their excitement is palpable and I love it.

When Rashan finishes, I stand. “Okay, I think we’ve got time for one more today. Alex”—I look over to one of my quieter students and nod to the front of the class—“why don’t you go ahead and wrap us up today?”

He looks at me anxiously before making his way to the front of the room. The paper he has is shaking lightly in his hands. “Umm, my song isn’t really popular.” He looks up from his paper and locks eyes with me, waiting for reassurance.

“That’s great.” I smile. “I love discovering new music.”

He nods his head and continues. “Okay, well, umm. It’s called Car Radio. It’s by this, umm, band, called Twenty-One Pilots. So, uh, here it goes.”

He plays the song and a slow bass starts with an interesting beat. The melancholy voice of the singer spouts short rhymes as the music escalates. His anger toward his car radio being stolen is felt through each word, but somehow you can feel it’s about much more. The rhythm is fast-paced and the lyrics are hurled at you just as quickly. It’s such an obscure song, yet I find myself leaning forward in my seat, closing my eyes and straining to hear the words. As the song closes, I look to Alex. He’s completely still, eyes closed, concentrating. His body is visibly more relaxed than when he first stood in front of class.

He opens his eyes and looks at the paper in his hands. “Silence is cruel to some people. It gives them too much time to think. And sometimes thoughts aren’t as pleasant as they should be. Some people think too much. About everything. They think about every single detail of their life and analyze its worth. It could be things that don’t need to be analyzed. Like why you feel a certain way. It doesn’t matter why you feel it—just feel it. Have faith in your feelings. Have faith in yourself. It’s not always the easiest thing to do, but you just have to. Because if you don’t, then fear wins, and fear is a vicious beast. It takes over your mind in the silence. It corrupts your thoughts. It turns your faith in yourself and other people into doubt. This song isn’t about just a car radio. Music is his escape. It’s his way of drowning his thoughts so he doesn’t have to choose between peace and fear. He can ignore them. And life is like that. We use distractions of any kind to ignore our thoughts and our decisions until there’s nothing left to distract us from them. Until we have to choose between the faith and the fear. He begs us to choose faith. Revel in the silence. Let yourself feel the good things. Choose to win. We’re all in the same battle, and it’s up to us to win it.”

Alex looks up from his paper and locks eyes with mine, which I know are brimming with tears. I wasn’t expecting this. I wasn’t expecting a song and a sixteen-year-old boy to force me to see things that I’ve been ignoring for years. I give him a shaky smile as the bell rings, dismissing class. He nods his head at me and goes to gather his things. As he makes his way out the door, he stops by the desk I’m sitting in and leaves his crumpled piece of paper on it. Once I’m alone, I look at what it is. It’s the lyrics to the song. That’s it. Nothing else. Alex spoke from experience. From his heart.

As I round the corner to our condo, I see Rhett sitting against the door. He looks up as he hears my heels clicking against the pavement. His eyes are red, and he’s looking at me in a way he’s never looked at me before—almost like he’s scared of me. Hell, I would be scared of me too, after the way I flipped on him the other day.

“Hi,” I greet him quietly.

“Hey, M.” His voice is scratchy and loaded with emotion. He clears his throat and continues. “Cam wasn’t here. I was hoping we could talk.”

I fight back the tears in my eyes, knowing he very well could be here to tell me he’s done with my brand of crazy. I nod my head, not capable of much more. He gives me a shaky smile and stands to follow me into the house. I leave my things on the kitchen counter and turn to look at him.

“Want something to drink? Water? Coke?” I ask him, trying to break the awkwardness that has never been present between us before. He shakes his head and I make my way into the living room. I can feel him behind me as I take my seat on the couch. He doesn’t sit. He starts pacing the living room, running his fingers through his dark hair. He stops and turns to look at me, blowing out a frustrated breath.

“Rhett, I—”

“Stop.” He cuts me off before I can voice my first thought. “Christ, M. I’ve gone through this in my mind over and over and over. The thing I can’t pinpoint is
why.
I don’t understand how we were laughing and in love one minute, and the next you’re having a panic attack at the thought of being with me for any defined period of time. I just don’t get it.”

“I’m not scared to be with you, Rhett.”

“Then what the fuck happened, M?”

“I don’t know. I had been anxious all day and it just took over. My nerves got the best of me and I momentarily lost my mind.”

“That wasn’t a momentary lapse in judgment, M. I saw your face. You were genuinely terrified at the prospect of being with me in the future.”

“I love you.” I need to tell him that. It’s the truth and he needs to know it.

“I know you do. I love you too. That’s not the problem. You can love someone and not be with them. The problem is being here, with me, day in and day out, through the good and the bad.”

“That’s the part that scares me, Rhett.”

“Why?”

“Because things never last with me. Sure, I’ve got Meems and Pops, and Cam has been here, but I’ve even kept them at an arm’s length the entire time I’ve known them. I can’t have another person leave me. I know it’s not rational. I know I sound crazy. But my dad was gone before I knew him. My mom was gone when I was eleven years old! Anyone I let in all the way—they are ripped from my life.”