White Trash Beautiful - Page 32/33

“Absolutely.”

“Great. Be here at seven in the morning and I’ll show you the ropes.”

“Thank you so much,” I squealed. I hurried out of the shop to execute part two of my plan. I needed to find an affordable apartment not too far away. The paper was advertising low-income housing just a few blocks from Bay Street, and I knew with the cash Tucker had given me, I would be able to pay the deposit and the first month’s rent, with plenty left over for food until my first paycheck rolled in.

I knew Tucker would be crushed when he didn’t see me at his concert, but I also knew I owed him this. One day he would thank me for letting him go. And if I wanted to get my life back together, I needed to be my own white knight for once.

I found my way to the apartment buildings. They weren’t much to look at, but anything was better than the trailer park. I would never go back there. I met the manager, and after giving him my mother’s name to make sure Tucker couldn’t track me down, I rented my very first apartment. I figured this was my story and I could rewrite it, starting with a new name for my new life, just like Tucker had.

“Here ya go, Anne.” The manager held out a set of keys.

“Thank you.” I spun around to look at my new place as he left. It was about as big as a box, but if I stood on my toes, I could see some of the river from my living-room window. The furniture was old and musty, but it would do until I could save for something a little newer.

I curled up on the corner of the ugly hunter-green couch and pulled my knees to my chest as I waited for the next hour and a half to tick by. There would be no turning back now. I let my tears fall freely as the minutes inched on until it was six o’clock.

I knew I was doing what was best for Tucker, but it still hurt like hell. I didn’t regret the time I had spent with him. I had finally felt loved and was able to love someone else, and that was truly amazing. Tucker had helped me realize that I was worth something, that I deserved something better out of life, and I would never be able to repay him for that. But I could act on it.

I hoped he would forgive me one day for putting him through all of this, and I hoped he didn’t regret the time we’d had together.

Chapter Twenty-Five

THE WEEKS TICKED by and I began to fall into my place in life. I worked endless hours to make money for the bills and even a little extra. Now that I had only myself to support, I was able to save a bit, too. I refused to let myself sulk over what had happened to me. I knew if I worked hard enough, maybe one day Tucker and I would cross paths again. I planned on being worthy of someone as kind and caring as him when that time came.

I began attending the local NA meetings. I still struggled with my anger and pain from what drugs had done to the ones I loved. I learned a lot about myself. My bruises had healed, but the pain in my heart still lingered. I needed to learn to cope with it and forgive the ones who’d wronged me in my life.

I gathered my things as I looked at the clock that hung in the kitchen. It was almost time for the first band to play over in City Market. I grabbed my purse and made my way through the crowded streets to Café.

“Hey, Anne. There’s a good band tonight.” The hostess adjusted her flaming-red ponytail.

“I heard. I’m really excited.”

“Hard tea?”

I nodded and sat on the bench just outside the restaurant. The air was warm and heavy today, even as the sun began to sink behind the buildings.

“Here, darlin’.”

I held out a $10 bill to Jewels.

She waved it away. “You know it’s on the house as long as you stay and keep me company.”

“Where else would I go?” I shot her a smile as the band began to play behind me. I recognized the first few chords to “Loved” instantly. It was ingrained in my heart. I jumped up, nearly spilling my drink as my eyes searched out the band. The lead singer had long, shaggy hair and a full beard. It wasn’t Tucker. I sat back down on the bench with a thud as my heart broke all over again.

“You all right, Anne? You look like you saw a ghost.”

“I was hoping to.” The lump forming in my throat nearly blocked my airway completely.

“Just breathe, sweetie.”

“I’m fine. I’m sorry, Jewels. I’m just not feeling well. I think I should go back home and lie down.”

“Yeah, all right. Want me to come by and check on you after I get off?”

I stood and drank down my tea as quickly as I could, hoping the liquor would dull the aching in my chest. “No. I’ll be fine. I just need more time.”

She drew her brows together but gave me a sympathetic smile and nodded.

“Maybe next weekend.” My life was like Groundhog Day. Every weekend I forced myself to come to the Market. Most times I made it two or three songs before the memories became too hard to ignore.

Music used to be an escape for me, and I desperately craved that again.

I made my way back to my apartment, defeated once again. Becoming someone else was nearly impossible when your old memories refused to fade.

I grabbed a beer from the fridge and kicked off my sandals, settling in on my couch. The house was so quiet. Something I used to pray for when I came home from the diner. Now it was all-consuming. The silence was deafeningly loud. My next purchase would be a television, I decided, as I took a long pull from my beer. I picked at the label as the minutes ticked by, turning into hours. Finally, exhaustion took over and I could no longer fight sleep. I curled up on the couch and let one day fade into the next.

I awoke to a pounding on the door. “Not today,” I moaned, and pulled a throw pillow over my head.

“No rest for the wicked, Anne.”

“Ugh.” I threw the pillow at the door and pushed myself up from the couch. I ran my fingers through my hair before yanking open the front door.

“Well, aren’t you Miss Sunshine. Here.” Jewels held out a cup of coffee for me and stepped inside.

I groaned. “It’s only noon and my day off.”

“Yes, so you have time to make the meeting this afternoon.” I had met Jewels at the NA meetings.

“I don’t feel like going today.” I took a sip of the coffee, burning my tongue.

“No one feels like going, but we have to. It works if you work it,” she joked.

I rolled my eyes as I pulled open the freezer and grabbed an ice cube to drop in my coffee. “I’m not even an addict.”

“Oh, you’re addicted all right, and one of these days you’ll tell me his name.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” I walked by her to the bedroom so I could change my clothes.

“Darlin’, I don’t know much, but I know what a broken heart looks like.”

I ignored her as I ran a brush over my hair.

“Fine. Let’s skip the meeting then. Go do something fun.”

“Fun?” I poked my head out the door.

She smiled and took another drink of her coffee. “Sure. Why not? I have the perfect place.”

“Fine.” How bad could it be? I walked out of my room and grabbed my purse.

“That’s the spirit.” She laughed and held the front door open for me.

We walked to the front of the building and scanned the street.

“Hey! Over here!” Jewels yelled to the man across the road on his bike taxi.

He pedaled across the street toward us and stopped at the curb. “Where to?”

“McDonough’s.” She turned back to me, smiling.

I climbed onto the bench seat behind the rider and Jewels squeezed in beside me.

“So what’s at McDonough’s?”

“Therapy.” She smiled as we pulled out onto the street and made our way across town.

I was already regretting leaving the house, but I wasn’t sure jumping out of a bike taxi in the middle of a busy road was a wise option.

We pulled up outside the restaurant a few minutes later. Jewels paid for our ride as I stared up at the green canopy that lined the building.

“Looks pricey.”

She looped her arm in mine and pulled me through the door. “We aren’t here to eat.”

“What are we here for?”

“That.” She pointed across the room. I followed the direction of her finger to a woman on a small stage preparing to sing karaoke.

“You want me to sing? I can barely listen to a song without breaking down, and you want me to sing?”

“You don’t have to do it today. Just think about it.”

“This is stupid.”

“So is keeping everything bottled up inside you until one day you explode and go on some crazy murdering spree.”

My jaw fell open.

“What?” She looked at me as if I had gone crazy.

“I need a drink.”

“That’s the spirit!” She pulled me over to a corner booth and held up her hand to the waiter.

He came and she ordered us a round of beers. She told him to keep them coming until we were onstage singing or passed out.

I grabbed my bottle and drank until my lungs burned for air.

“Come on, Anne. It’s not that scary. No one here even knows who you are. If you make a fool out of yourself, you never have to see them again.”

She was right about no one knowing who I was. I was still getting used to turning around when I heard the name Anne.

“So what was his name?”

“I can’t.”

“All right. Pick a song.”

I took another drink from my beer and held up the bottle for the waiter. He nodded and quickly replaced my empty bottle with a full one.

“Thanks.” I picked at the label, thinking of the time I sat across from Tucker in a booth.

“Fine. I’ll go first.” She cleared her throat. “Jason and I met two years ago. He was incredibly sexy. He was a tattoo artist, so of course he was covered in them.” My eyes flicked to hers and she continued. “He was big into going out and barhopping all night long. I could barely keep up and get to work on time. We started doing coke, just to keep up with the crazy lifestyle.”

I took a drink from my beer as the music from the karaoke singer faded into the background. “So what happened?”

“I caught him in the bathroom fucking my best friend. He was so high he actually smiled when he saw me.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah.” She took a drink of her beer. “But that’s not the worst of it. I was so fucked-up I couldn’t think straight. I went for the one thing I knew he loved. His truck. I smashed the windows and flattened the tires. The whole bit. I was like a bad country song.”

“Did you get in trouble?”

“I spent three weeks in jail and will probably be working to pay off the damage for the truck for the rest of my damn life.” She laughed. “But I’m clean and sober, so there is that.” She took another drink of her beer. “Well, not quite sober.”

Another singer took the stage and began to sing an eighties love balled.

“His name was Tucker.”

Jewels sat back in her seat. “What happened?”

“Jax happened.” The lump began to form in my throat again.

Jewels quickly sat forward, placing her hand on mine. “Let’s save it for another day. I think we did good today, Anne. You’ve already sat through three horrible singers and not run off.” She smiled.

“It’s Cass. My name is Cass.”

“You know, from my experience, when you try to hide from your demons, they find you anyway.”

“Well, my demon is dead. He can’t hurt me anymore.” I set my bottle down on the table and stood up. “Let’s go sing a damn song before I change my mind.”

We kept it safe and stayed away from any bleeding-heart songs about love and, for Jewels’s sake, country songs about getting revenge.