True for You (23 page)
***
The
first thirty minutes are the most painful. Cole and I don’t
have much to say to each other. The only things we have in common are
Violet, an ass for a dad, half-siblings, and a mother that sold me.
“Planning
on staying married to Bliss?”
“Bliss
said she stayed with you guys after Brian Corey hurt her.”
Cole
slows down for a traffic light. “Yeah, I was eighteen at the
time and found her crawling on the side of the road. She wouldn’t
let me take her to the ER or to the cops.
Fuck.
You should have seen her face, all swollen and—well, suffice to
say, she looked awful. Then one morning, we woke up and Bliss was
gone. I tried to find her, but I never did, and my resources were
limited.”
“She
said your mother made her leave, not that I can blame her, with Kelly
and all, but—”
“Crystal
didn’t live with us then. She was in rehab. I took her in,
asked Miss Violet to come over and take a look at her. Kelly wasn’t
even two years old; she wouldn’t remember anything about it.”
“But
she said… the guy the Coreys owed money to came around there,
bothering y’all.”
“I
never saw it. Son of a bitch. He must have done it while we were in
school. Damn it.” Cole pounds his fist against the dashboard.
“I made a promise to her dad to take care of her. You have to
bring her up here now. I need to apologize to her, for not keeping
her safe.”
“Damn
it,” he mutters again, pressing the gas. “Good thing that
asshole’s in jail.”
I
look at my brother, really look at him, and realize that despite who
he looks like, despite who our dad is, he’s nothing like him.
He’d kept his promise to Bliss’ family, but she’d
gotten scared and ran away. Again.
“We’ll
work out something, but just knowing you helped her, after what she
went through… It means a lot.”
He
pulls his Jeep up to the curb and puts it in park. “You really
love her, don’t you?”
“What
do you think?” I open the door and get out.
Cole
leans over the seat. “I think that the
answer-a-question-with-a-question bullshit is for the birds.”
“Does
that mean we’ll start having family holidays together?”
“Do
I look like I want to be miserable at Christmas?” Then he makes
a face. “Go home to your wife, Morgan. By the way… thank
you for being there for Violet. It meant a lot to her… and to
me.”
I
nod. “You’re welcome.” Then I close the door, and
do exactly what my brother suggested. I head home to my wife.
But
when I get home, she’s not there. All that remains is the
wedding ring I’d given her and a note, painstakingly written by
her. My heart breaks when I think about how long it took her to write
it. Each letter is so precise, so carefully drawn, that my heart
constricts.
Jackson.
You need music. I need love. I am going home. Bliss
Home?
Where in the hell would be home for her?
Forrestville?
It certainly wasn’t Nashville. Then it hits me.
This
is my home. This is our home. No matter where we go, we should always
come back here.
Staring
at her note, I take a deep breath, and then another. “I’m
coming home, baby doll.”
Bliss
It’s
been a week since I’ve left Jackson, and my body aches for him.
Not just my body, but my heart and soul.
Every
day, to keep my mind off him, I sit on the deck, practicing reading
and writing. I want to be prepared when classes start.
The
sound of music fills the air, and I look up, puzzled.
I
don’t remember turning on the radio. The music gets louder,
until it’s coming from right under me.
A
male voice, a lone guitar.
The
hair on my arm stands up, and I get goose bumps.
I
run to the rail, gazing down on the man singing to me.
Curly
hair, beautiful face.
Green
eyes, full of grace.
You’ve
been hiding in the shadows,
Always
feelin’ second place.
But
I’ve always seen you, no matter how hard you tried to hide.
You’ve
always seen through me, always to the best side.
And
ever since I found you, I’ve been down on my knees,
Thanking
God that you put up with me.
I
don’t need the music.
I
don’t need anything but you.
No
matter where I go,
No
matter where I’ve been,
I’m
always coming back to you.
In
your arms, I’ve found my home.
A
taste of heaven every single night.
Hearing
you cry out my name when I get it right,
Is
the sweetest symphony.
He
winks at me, and I turn red. Of course, he
had
to get that in there.
I
don’t need the music. I don’t need anything but you.
No
matter where I go,
No
matter where I’ve been,
I’m
always coming back to you.
When
the song’s over, I race down the stairs. He meets me halfway,
sweeping me up in his arms, and I cover his face with kisses.
“Sorry,
it’s the best I could do in less than a week.”
“Don’t
apologize for that song,” I say. “It was the most
beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.”
“It’s
the first song I’ve ever written for anyone,” he says,
squeezing me tighter. “I love you so damn much.”
“And
I love you.” My heart feels as though it wants to fly out from
my chest. “What took you so long?”
He
sets me down on my feet, but keeps his arms around me. “I had
to make things right, before I could come back to you.”
“What
did you do, Jackson?”
He
shrugs. “I told them I was going Indie, like Violet Lynn.”
My
hearts stutters at the mention of her name. “You really hurt
me, by leaving and going to her.”
His
face turns sad. “I take it you got my message?”
I
nod. “I’d been in the shower, trying to think how to
handle the whole thing with June and… I was tired of running
away, of expecting that you’d put me last, but when I heard
that message.” I take a deep breath. “I thought you were
going back to her, that somehow she and Cole hadn’t worked
out.”
“Bliss
Morgan.” He shakes his head and caresses my cheek. “Why
would you think that?”
“Why
wouldn’t she want you back? I do, even after everything.”
I close my eyes against the tears I swore would never fall for him
again.
“I
didn’t go there to be with Violet. I went there for a
memorial.”
My
eyes pop open. “A memorial?”
“The
baby we—she lost,” he says softly. “She said she
needed closure, that she’d been speaking with a therapist for a
while, without anyone knowing, and the therapist had suggested it.”
My
heart breaks all over for him. “Did you need closure, too?”
“I
did.” His dark blue eyes are full of sadness. “There was
a service and a gravestone. She… named the baby. Something
we’d picked out when we’d talked about the future.”
Tears
slip down my cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Jackson.”
He
wipes a tear away. “I’m not. But I am sorry for leaving
you out to get it. I made the wrong decision by not including you.”
He lets go of me and runs a hand through his hair. “I’ve
made a lot of wrong decisions concerning you.”
“Like?”
“Bliss,
I’m not man you deserve, but I’d like to try to be,
because you’re sure as hell more than I ever deserved. I can’t
promise I won’t ever hurt you or make you cry, because that’s
not reasonable or fair to either of us, but I can promise to make you
laugh, to make love to you as often as you allow, and to talk to you,
not run away, and to always, always put you first.”
I
watch in disbelief as he gets down on one knee, pulling a ring from
his pocket. “I had this made just for you. I’m asking you
to wear it, to be my wife and the mother of my children. To wake up
with me in the morning, kiss me at lunchtime, and go to bed with me
at night. I want forever with you, Bliss, even though that’s
not long enough.”
He
slips the ring on my finger—it shines in the sun. “Bliss
Morgan, will you do me the honor of staying married… to me?”
With
a nod, I throw myself in his arms again. “With a proposal like
that, how could I not say yes?”
“Answering
a question with a question… Damn, baby doll, you’re the
perfect woman for me.”
Then
he kisses me.
And
I kiss him right back.
Four
years later
This
is the largest venue of the tour. The stadium’s packed, and the
lights are low. Everyone is smiling and singing along while having a
good time. Couples sway back and forth. Kids dot the landscape, with
signs that proclaim I’m their hero.
Grateful
as hell for all my fans support, I pick out the tune to my biggest
hit, a song I wrote three years ago, but didn’t release until
recently.
The
words were too raw, and to be honest, they needed a little help. So I
asked my brother if he minded Violet helping me out. He didn’t,
so she did, and we had a big party to celebrate. It wasn’t too
weird, but it wasn’t perfect, not yet.
Anything
worth doing takes time, and our relationship will need a lot of time
to get over the past, to get over the choices our parents made. But
I’m confident we can do it.
Everett
is still making music, still trotting out girls like show ponies, but
they’re getting fewer and fewer. I think parents are getting
wiser, or Everett’s gotten scared of a lawsuit.
Either
way, that’s not my life anymore. I have a whole new life, a
whole new career singing songs that my fans love—a little bit
rock, a touch of country, and a whole lot of my soul.
“Tonight,
I want to bring out the woman that makes my heart beat a little
faster whenever she appears.” I wink at the crowd. A stage
hand quickly runs on, sets down a stool, and then runs off again.
“Y’all willing to let me do that?”
My
fans roar their approval.
Glancing
over to the side, I nod at the stage manager. The light shines stage
right, and I swear I go breathless.
“My
gorgeous wife, Bliss Morgan.” I hold out my arm, pointing in
her direction. “Make her feel welcome, y’all.”
Bliss
glides out from the wings, her belly rounded under the flowing dress
she’s wearing. Her curly hair is loose over her shoulders and
back.
My heart swells with
love just looking at her. She’s holding hands with our son,
Jacob. He’s three, has a perfect ear for music, and a temper
like his momma.
Jacob
tugs at his momma’s hand, and she lets him go. He runs to me,
and I swing my guitar behind my back so I can catch him.
“He’s
so fast now,” Bliss says, and I wrap an arm around her, placing
a hand on her stomach as she sits beside me. “While I’m
getting slower.”
“Makes
it easier for me to catch you when I need some lovin’.” I
wink at her, and she blushes.
Our baby kicks my
hand, and Bliss laughs. “I think she’s impatient, just
like her daddy.”
“Smart
and gorgeous, like her momma.”
There
are more than a few
aws
from the crowd as the mic picks up our conversation.
“I
love you, Daddy.” Jacob lays his sweet head on my shoulder.
“You love me?”
“To
the moon and back.” That kid loves for his momma to read to
him, and lately, he’s been on a
Guess
How Much I Love You
kick. His Uncle Cameron sent him that one.
Propping
up at foot on one of the rungs of my stool first, I sit Jacob on my
knee. “Ready to sing to our girls?”
Our
baby girl, Faith, is due in three months. Pink and sparkly are new
words in my vocabulary.
God
help me.
