White Trash Damaged - Page 19/27

“He loves his football and grilling in the summer. He has the biggest heart.”

“He seems so . . . different.” I wasn’t sure if that would be taken as an insult, but it felt like it had to be said.

“How so?”

“I don’t know. I remember him and my momma fighting a lot when I was little, over money, mostly.” I shrugged and turned the corner to round the block.

“Well, that can be pretty stressful.”

I felt like I had touched on a sore subject, but it made me wonder if things weren’t as perfect as they seemed.

“Do you work?” I asked, staring off at a group of people ahead. Someone was playing a saxophone and others were gathered around singing.

“I used to sing at the local joints.” She beamed as she shook her head. “I was something to see. Before this big old belly, I could really draw a crowd. That’s how I met your father.”

“You quit when you got pregnant?”

“Not long after we had gotten together things went all pear shaped.” She glanced down at her stomach. “Wasn’t many wanting to see a big old pregnant woman up onstage, and your daddy . . .” Her voice trailed off, and I could tell the thought had made her sad so I didn’t press her. I remembered all too well how my father wanted my mother to stop pursuing her dreams as a hairstylist so she could stay home and keep an eye on me.

We had made a loop around the block and were coming back up on the tiny yellow house.

“I’m really glad you came, Cass. It is truly great to have the whole family together.”

“Thanks. I was really glad he called me. I mean, definitely a surprise since it has been so long . . . but a good one.”

She made a face but soon covered it with another bright smile and we made our way up the steps to the front door.

My father stepped outside before we could enter.

“Shhh . . . That boy was fighting sleep something fierce.”

“I’m gonna run in and use the ladies’ room.” June stood on her tiptoes and kissed my father on the cheek before slipping inside. He motioned to the steps and sat down on the top one. I took a seat next to him and watched as the sun began to sink behind the buildings.

“You have a nice family,” I said, staring off into the distance.

“Thank you. You know you are welcome here any time.”

I nodded, but it didn’t feel that way. I felt like an outsider.

“June is really sweet. I like her.”

“She’s a spitfire.” He chuckled. “Tell me about this boy you’re seeing.”

“He’s a really great guy. He has an amazing voice.”

“Makes good money at that I’m sure.”

I nodded. I wanted to stay off the topic of money. I didn’t want Tucker to be right.

“We don’t talk about that sort of thing.” I shrugged as I ran my hands over my jeans. “How do you deal with this humidity?”

“You’d be surprised what your body can get used to.” He chuckled. I thought back on the bruises that used to mar my body and nodded in agreement. It was incredibly awkward trying to carry on a conversation with him alone, and I wished June would hurry up, but I was sure she was leaving us be on purpose.

“What a . . .” He cleared his throat. “What happened to your momma?”

My chest tightened.

I explained my turbulent relationship with Jax and how we struggled every day to make it. I hated to tell him about my mother’s drug use, but I felt he should know the desperation she felt. When I told him about my relationship with Tucker and how it had played a major part in the way the events unfolded, I braced myself for his judgment, but he only nodded and listened.

“I didn’t know how bad it had gotten for you,” he said, and his eyes met mine.

June stepped out onto the porch behind us, and I was thankful to be pulled back from our trip down memory lane.

“Am I interrupting?” she asked as she looked between my father and me.

“Not at all,” I replied, clearing my throat.

“I grabbed some beignets from Café Du Monde today. Thought you’d like one.”

“That would be great. What is it?” I looked to my father and he chuckled.

“Fancy donut with lots of sugar on it.”

June went back in the house and returned a few seconds later with a bag full of food. I grabbed one and took a bite as we ate in silence, watching the sunset behind the buildings.

“They are delicious. Thank you.”

June smiled, proud to share a little piece of her home with me.

“Expensive,” my father mumbled.

“You guys didn’t need to spend money on me.” I felt guilty after all of their talk of losing everything that I hadn’t even thought twice about her buying treats especially for me. I pushed the thought of my father being the cause of my suffering as a child to the back of my mind.

“It’s no worry. You’re family.” June waved her hand in the air. “You must be exhausted from all that flying. I’ll go make up the couch for you.”

“That’s great. Thank you.” My father and I sat in silence for a few minutes. I wanted to bring up the fact that he left, what it did to my momma and me, but I couldn’t get up the nerve. He had invited me into his home and it felt wrong. I could feel his eyes on me, and I wanted to break the awkward silence.

“I started writing. Songs mostly. Well, it’s poetry really, but Tucker has sung one at his concert.” I was rambling. I didn’t understand this sudden nervousness and need for his approval.

He nodded but didn’t say anything. I was surprised when it stung to have this man, a stranger by all accounts, not acknowledge what I felt was a big achievement.

“I should get some sleep.” I pushed to my feet and dusted the dirt from the back of my legs.

“See you in the morning.”

“Good night.”

That night I dreamed that I was back on the bus. I missed snuggling up next to Tucker. It didn’t matter what state we were in or where we were headed, I was always home in his arms and I missed that. I wasn’t sure what I thought I would find down in Louisiana, but this wasn’t it. I had hoped that my father’s life had turned around and he was happy, but the house was in shambles and they seemed to worry constantly about where their next dollar would come from. Instead of feeling like I’d found my way home, I felt like a guest, a stranger in this foreign city, this unfamiliar house. And worse, I felt sad for my father. I felt pity for him and wished there was something I could do to help him and June in the wake of the tragedy they’d suffered.

The next morning I woke to Ryley pushing his finger against my eye. I rolled over and tickled his stomach, causing him to giggle and run away.

“You leave her alone, young man.” June was in the kitchen cooking something on the stove. It smelled like sausage, and my stomach growled. “Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes. Eggs and boudin.”

“Sounds . . . good.” I didn’t know what it was, but it smelled incredible.

“Keep it down, June,” my father yelled from his bedroom, startling me. June made a face at me, and I laughed quietly to myself. I walked into the kitchen to see if she needed any help.

“Anything I can do?”

“You can grab the plates.” With her spatula, she pointed to the cabinet next to the fridge. I set the table, not sure if my father would be joining us for breakfast or not. I figured it was better safe than sorry, so I set the table for four.

He eventually rolled out of bed as June finished up. He gave her a kiss on the cheek as he stole a piece of sausage, and she smacked him on the hand.

We didn’t talk about my mother and what had happened after he left. I realized it was more important to me to get a fresh start, not rehash the past. I wanted to spend some time with them just getting to know them better. We would have plenty of opportunities down the road to revisit the heavy baggage of our past.

Chapter Sixteen

I RAN INTO TUCKER’S arms, and he lifted me from the ground, spinning us.

“I have missed you so much,” he said as he sat me back on the ground and placed a hand on either side of my face. “How was your trip?”

“It was good. A little strange . . . but I’m glad I went.”

“Come on. We have a long ride ahead of us, and I can’t be late for the shoot.”

“You started shooting the music video? I thought that wasn’t until next week.”

“Change of plans.”

“I could have taken a cab, Tucker. You didn’t need to pick me up from the airport.”

“I wanted to see you as soon as possible.” He kissed me on the forehead, and I breathed in his scent of coconut.

We made our way out to his bike, and I slid on the back, wrapping my arms around his waist. I could ride with him all day long. I loved being so close to him and feeling like we were in our own little world.

After a few hours we pulled into the studio parking lot. My legs felt like jelly as I slid off the bike and stretched. Tucker did the same, looking pained from the round-trip he had made.

“You really didn’t need to come get me.”

“I really did.” He smiled and placed a kiss on my forehead. He looped his fingers in mine as we began to walk to the giant glass doors.

“I’m surprised Donna let you leave.”

“She doesn’t control me, Cass.” The anger in his voice made my heart rate accelerate. I hadn’t meant to insult him.

“That’s not what I meant. I’m sorry.”

He nodded and pulled open the door, waiting for me to walk through. I released his hand and stepped inside as he placed his hand on the small of my back and followed me.

The lobby was large but rustic. Everything was concrete, and brown swirling paintings hung all around the receptionist’s desk. It felt very masculine and cavelike, but done in an upscale manor.

“Welcome back, Mr. White.”

Tucker smiled at the woman sitting behind the counter who had a severe black bob. Her lips quirked into a smile as she picked up a phone and spoke quietly into the receiver.

We walked to the back of the room where there was a large set of medieval double doors made of a deep gray metal, lined in rivets. Tucker pulled it open, once again waiting for me to step inside before he followed. We followed the hall to the third door on the left with a bright red light over the door, signaling someone was working inside.

I was shocked as he pulled the door open. The room was massive with a giant green screen plastered across the back wall and a motorcycle, much like Tucker’s, in front of it. To the right was another screen and all of the band’s equipment. Eric was playing the drums as a man guided him on which direction to look. To the left was an elegant room that looked like the bedroom out of a mansion, complete with white silk sheets and a pile of pillows. That threw me for a loop, and I stopped walking, causing Tucker to run into my back. He gripped my hips and guided me forward as Donna’s eyes found us. She narrowed them, and I swallowed back the anger I instantaneously felt when she was around. I had a long couple of days trying to get reacquainted with my father, and I was in no mood to put up with Donna’s shit. She stalked toward us, folding her arms across her chest.

“I expected you an hour ago.” Her eyes were glued on Tucker.

“My flight ran late,” I chimed in. Her gaze flicked to me and back to Tucker.

“We are almost ready for you. Makeup is waiting.” She walked away with a loud huff.

“Makeup?” I laughed and spun around to face Tucker. He grinned and shook his head.

“I didn’t like the idea either.” He laughed and pulled me in to kiss him. I pressed my lips against his, letting my eyes flutter closed.

“Save the passion for the video, Tucker,” a man’s voice called from behind us, and I pulled back, immediately embarrassed by our public display of affection, but Tucker kept his grip around my waist. Tucker laughed and pulled me against his chest for a hug.

“You sure you want to be here for this?”

I furrowed my brow, searching his eyes.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I gave him a smile, but there was a look of concern in his eyes. “Go get ready before the wicked witch casts a spell on me.”

He laughed, shaking his head as he made his way to a back corner of the room toward a door that read DRESSING ROOM. I crossed my arms over my stomach as I wandered toward Terry and Chris who were hanging out against the far right wall. They smiled and greeted me when they noticed me, and I felt more at ease in the strange place.

“How’s it going?” I asked as I watched a petite blonde blot Terry’s cheek with makeup.

“They’re making us bitches, Cass,” Chris whined, and I snorted as the woman gave him a glare.

Two women walked toward us, and I realized they were twins as well. They wore only white bikinis and had tattoos covering their bodies. My eyes danced over the artwork on their skin, in awe at how beautiful they were.

“It’s not real,” one said with a heavy accent that I couldn’t place.

“You’re kidding?” I stepped closer to inspect the fake tattoos. “That’s incredible.”

“Thank you,” the woman who was still correcting the other twin’s makeup called over her shoulder to me.

“Girls,” called out the man who had spoken to Tucker earlier. I assumed he was a director or producer or something to that effect, but I didn’t want to ask and look stupid. The female twins scurried past me in their towering high heels and made their way to the bed. My stomach tied in knots as I looked back at Chris and Terry.