CHAPTER 19
I Ain’t the Same—Nikki
Sipping my coffee, my latest vice that had replaced booze, I scanned the small crowd dressed in all black.
“So . . .” I waved to the gathering, cup in hand. “Did anyone know about Raina and her daddy? I always assumed the stork dropped her off on her mama’s doorstep.”
Sienna shook her head. “No idea. Didn’t know about her brother, either.” She bit her lips and her eyes watered. Knowing Sienna, she was upset that she hadn’t realized her friend was going through hell while we skipped through a field of daisies and forgot about everyone, Kara included.
Kara nodded. “Yes. Raina told me about it.”
I found my head twisting in Kara’s direction like the girl in The Exorcist, with no control over the motion. The guilt I felt for abandoning my friends was replaced with a little green fella, better known as jealousy. “What in the entire hell?” I had expected her to say an emphatic no. Raina, my bestie in the whole wide world, had not said a damn thing about her father.
“Now, now. Let’s not forget you were too busy drinking and gallivanting to be there for your friend.” Angie’s know-it-all voice popped into my head.
“Shut it, Angie,” I muttered to myself. But she was right. I should be grateful someone was there for Raina. I was a shit friend. I didn’t even know her father was dying, much less that they had reconciled, and hell, I didn’t know she had a little brother, either. Raina hadn’t told me on purpose. The girl had skeletons, not that I could judge. I had a walk-in closet full.
“It was recent.” Kara’s voice pulled me back from my self-reflection. “I met her brother, Vic Junior, when he helped her move into my place. Things just piled on her at once, but trust me when I say that she is doing well, considering all that has happened in the past few months.” She squeezed my shoulder. “You don’t have to feel guilty about anything. You’ve got a lot going on.”
“Yeah. Don’t we all.” I squeezed her hand on my shoulder. I’ll be a better friend. I mentally added the vow to my ever-growing list of things to improve. Wife and mother hovered at the top of the list.
Kara seemed to be on the mend, too. Sure, she was still rail thin from her recent weight loss, but she looked healthier. Brighter. Darren came behind her, an orange juice in hand. He wrapped his arms around Kara’s waist, whispered something in her ear, and handed her the plastic cup.
Kara smiled, turned in his arms to face him and touched his face. Darren grinned and kissed her lips. Kara had given me and Sienna the lowdown on what happened between them nearly an hour ago while Darren went to the restroom. She explicitly asked me not to give him shit, and I didn’t. Sienna, of course, agreed without much pushback. She even did a few awws when Kara told her about the graveyard picnic. But best of all, and yes, even better than their reconciliation, my girl passed her test. Her red and gold pen gleamed against her black dress.
Despite my happiness for my friend, the little green man appeared again; this time, he danced on my embattled heart. I missed my husband and had no idea if he wanted to fix our marriage. I hadn’t seen him since Memphis. Our conversations afterward had been stilted, generic, not at all us. I was ready to clean house, my house.
Thankfully, the band had a small three-day break before our last push for the tour. In less than an hour, I planned to hit the road for Bria’s talent show today.
I glanced at Sienna, who looked at Kara with an expression much like I imagined mine had been. Happy as all hell for Kara, but a bit forlorn. I wonder if it’s about Chris.
“Congrats on your win, Sienna.” I lifted my coffee cup to her.
“Yeah,” she said, her voice unenthusiastic. “Kind of easy to win when your opponent is a douchebag.”
“You would’ve won anyway.” And I wasn’t blowing smoke up her ass. I’d been keeping tabs on her campaign online. I wish I would’ve been there for the infamous debate. “What did Chris say about it?”
“Christopher?” She snorted, a frown marring her face. “He can go jump in a lake with cement blocks tied around his ankles.”
“That’s specific.” Kara raised her eyebrows.
“I’ve been gone too long.” I shook my head. “What happened?”
“Hey, ladies!” Raina walked into the middle of our circle, her bodyguards Cameron and her younger brother flanking her.
“Well, hello there, best friend. So great to see you.” I gave her a look that conveyed that I better get all the tea spilled and pronto.
Raina smiled and gave me a small nod. “I want to introduce you to my little brother, Vic Junior, aka Vickie.”
“Vic is just fine.” Raina’s brother rolled his eyes.
“Vickie,” Raina ignored her brother’s comment, “please meet my friends Nikki, Sienna, and you already know Kara.”
“Hello, Nikki, Sienna.” He stretched out his hand for a shake and we obliged.
“Beautiful Kara,” he said in an overly familiar tone.
Darren squeezed Kara tighter to his side.
Vic noticed the small splay of possessiveness as well and smirked. I snorted. He was a little shit stirrer, just like his big sister.
I gave him a wink and then focused on Raina’s other bodyguard, Cameron. That asshole had caused my friend heartache. Sure, it was because he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, but he knew she had commitment issues. He should’ve been more patient. But, no, he had to kick my girl out of her home. He had no idea how much courage it took her to buy a house with him.
“Cameron Jefferies.” I dropped the sweetness in my voice and squeezed the Styrofoam cup of coffee. “I’m assuming you’re here because you pulled your head out of your ass, got over yourself and your life, and—”
“Hey, now.” Raina lifted her hand. “Don’t scare him off already. I just got him back.”
“Don’t worry, baby. I’m not going anywhere.” He hugged Raina to his side but gave me his attention. “I promise I’ll take care of our girl. You can drop your weapon.”
I looked down at myself. “I don’t have a weapon.”
He nodded to my cup of coffee. “You’re gripping that cup like you’re ready to toss it on me.”
Damn if it didn’t look like I was about to launch it at his face. But my hand didn’t relax its grip or aim.
“Chill, Nikki. We’ll talk soon, but Cameron here will be asking me to marry him again. And, spoiler alert, I’m accepting.” She grinned.
“Woman, I told you that it’s your turn to ask me,” Cameron damn near growled at her, but I could tell he was joking.
“Oh, you didn’t mean that.” Raina waved him off. “I’m thinking a summer wedding no more than a year from now.”
“Way to plan your wedding at our dad’s funeral.” Vic shook his head, his tone teasing as well.
Damn, these siblings were strange.
“Alrighty, then.” I relaxed my arm. “I’m guessing I’m missing some context clues as to why you guys aren’t—”
“Crying? Sad?” Raina supplied.
“Morose?” Vic added.
“Sure,” I agreed. “All of the above.”
Raina nodded. “Daddy is at peace now. I’ve forgiven him, and I had the chance to form a relationship with my little brother.” She lifted her face to kiss Cameron. “And I’ve got the best guy in the world. I can’t pretend I’m not happy right now. Daddy would want me to be happy.”
My heart lifted at my friend’s serene expression. This time, there was no jealousy. If anything, it gave me hope for my situation.
Shit! I looked down at my phone.
“Guys, I’ve gotta go. Bria’s talent show is in a half hour.”
“Ahh.” Raina nodded. “That’s why James isn’t here.”
I don’t know if he would’ve come anyway.
I kept my thoughts to myself. Ironically, I didn’t want to bring down the mood at a funeral. “Yeah, Bria had to arrive early for the last rehearsal.” I gave my friends hugs.
“Raina, I’ll call you soon.” I pointed to Kara and Darren. “Congrats, guys.”
“Hey!” Raina pointed between her and Cameron. “What about a congratulations for us?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m happy for you. Go, team!” I pumped a fist in the air.
I turned to face Sienna. “Let me know if you need Louella again.”
She nodded. “Maybe this time I’ll break some knees.”
“Jesus, girl. What happened?” Raina tilted her head.
I left before Sienna could launch into her story. Much as I wanted to know, being there for my baby girl was more important.
* * *
I tapped a beat against the steering wheel, a recurring tune in my head that needed to be played to exorcise my nervousness.
I was beyond nervous, I was afraid. Afraid JJ wouldn’t recognize me. Afraid Bria would reject me. It had been three whole months since I’d seen my babies in person.
James and Mama knew I was coming, but I’d asked them to not tell Bria. I didn’t want her nervous, looking over her shoulder and listening for every door opening or slamming shut.
“It’ll be fine. JJ loves you.” I took a deep sigh. “Bria loves you, too.” I was a new woman, and I intended on striking a balance between being a good wife, mom, and artist.
Hadn’t figured out all the details yet, but I knew that I didn’t need Tattered Souls to be successful. I had a handful of songs that were perfect for me, and I knew they’d be a hit once I cleaned them up.
I turned into the school, parked, and hustled to the auditorium. It was just five minutes before the show.
Meegan, the PTA queen, sat regally at the ticket table. A Cash Only sign acted as a backdrop. I patted my pockets. Damn, I didn’t have a ticket or money.
“Sorry, Meegan,” I said, as I approached the table. “I don’t have a ticket, and I don’t have any cash on me right now. I promise I’ll give you the money after the show.”
Meegan lifted a shoulder, accompanied by a go-to-hell smile. “Sorry, Nicole. This is a fundraiser and we don’t take IOUs. You must have a ticket or cash. Twenty dollars, to be exact.”
I took a cleansing breath. “Remember, you’re turning over a new leaf. You’re a new woman now,” I muttered to myself.
“What’s that?”
“Surely, Meegan, we can work this out?” I glanced down at my phone. “There isn’t an ATM nearby, James’s phone is off, and the show starts in two minutes.”
“Sorry,” Meegan said, but her tone said she was anything but. “No can do. Cash or ticket.” Her voice hardened at the end.
“You’re being ridiculous.” I heard a strident voice behind me.
I sighed and turned. Of course Mama would find me outside and take the PTA queen’s back.
Mama slapped a twenty-dollar bill on the table. “There.” She put her hand on her hips. “And let me tell you something, Miss Thang. If my child would’ve missed my grandchild’s first performance because you’ve got something stuck up your ass, it would’ve been me and you, young lady.” She pointed at her chest, then directed her finger at Meegan.
I smiled. You tell her, Mama.
Meegan angrily tore off a ticket stub. “Enjoy the show.”
“Let’s go, baby.” Mama jerked her head toward the double doors. “I saved you a seat at the front, but we’ve got to hurry.”
While Mama walked toward the door, I turned around and shot Meegan the bird. Two fingers because Meegan was a bitch.
Meegan gasped. “Unbelievable.”
“So I’ve been told.” I spun around and followed Mama into the auditorium. Guess I hadn’t changed that much. Well, I’d changed where it counted. Family, being true to myself and all that jazz.
The auditorium was completely dark save the bright white spotlight. Mama and I made our way to the front and settled in our seats near the edge of the stage.
A little girl with blonde pigtails hop-skipped onstage and recited an Easter Sunday–esque speech.
“Where is JJ?” I whispered to Mama.
“With a sitter,” she whispered back. “You know that boy can’t sit still for long.”
“Good call.” Hopefully JJ would grow out of that once he got out of the toddler stage, but I doubted it. I think he got that annoying trait from me. I fidgeted in my seat, bored to tears.
After the little girl finished her poem, a boy, a few years older than Bria, most likely a fifth-grader, sang “You Are My Sunshine.” His voice was a dead ringer for Alfalfa from The Little Rascals.
God save me from talentless kids.
“He’s nowhere near as good as my Bria,” Mama whispered to me.
“I know, right?” I whispered back, giving her a low five.
“Two more kids, then Bria is next.” Mama grabbed my hand. “She’s ready. You did good.”
I shrugged. “I can’t take the credit.” I cleared my throat from the guilt clogging it. “I wasn’t there to help her finish the song.”
“But you helped her learn music, taught her to play guitar and sing. And, honey, the girl shines bright when she sings. Like I said, you did good.” She nodded and looked straight ahead. Mama hummed, something she usually did when she was nervous.
I smiled and squeezed her hand. “Dare you say music isn’t the devil?”
Mama shrugged. “It’s fine. Long as she doesn’t end up like your daddy, God rest his soul. You turned out okay.”
“Two compliments in a day? Be still my beating heart.”
“Child, hush.” Mama slapped my hand, but even in the dim light I could see a slight curve on her mouth.
Maybe absence does make the heart grow fonder.
“Next on the stage, Bria Grayson singing ‘I Will Survive.’ ”
Hope that isn’t a silent eff-you to me. God knows what James was thinking these days. Despite my reservation for the song subject at hand, I clapped and whistled.
The spotlight was on Bria, who stared at her feet. She wore a cute disco outfit with flowers embroidered at the hem of the bell-bottoms. The piano teacher, who thought she was Beethoven in another life, ran up the scale of the famous song, cuing Bria to sing.
But she didn’t. Bria continued staring at her shoes, a death grip around the mic.
“Oh, no,” Mama whispered beside me.
The piano teacher was undeterred. After a few more seconds, the pianist started up again, but baby girl was still frozen. I finally spotted James backstage, near the piano. He looked as if he was about to storm the stage and save our child from pain.
On the third cue, I shot from my seat. I sang the opening line about being afraid, being petrified, added some flair, and put my hand on my forehead and looked away, doing a perfect impression of a brokenhearted woman.
I stole a glance back at the stage. The piano teacher was following my lead. I pointed to Bria, pretending this was part of our routine.
My baby beamed, grabbed the mic, and started to sing. She strutted up and down the stage, working the crowd. I nodded to the piano teacher and returned to my seat.
Bria’s voice was clear and strong. She was clearly the most talented kid so far, and I wasn’t being biased. Some people in the crowd stood and clapped with the beat, while the more conservative ones rocked in their chairs.
I, of course, was dancing in the aisle, and so was Mama. I saw James backstage and blew him a kiss. He smiled and pretended to catch it.
After her performance, I hustled to the side of the stage. Bria spotted me and then hopped off the stage into my arms.
“Great job, Bria-bree.”
“Mommy!” She squeezed my neck. “I thought you weren’t coming.”
“I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” I rocked her back and forth. “And you killed it. I knew you would.”
“I got scared, and I was sad.”
“Well, that just makes your performance more amazing,” I whispered, walking her farther backstage so as to not disturb the next act.
“How am I amazing?”
“Because despite your fears, you went for it. A lot of people can’t do that. A lot of people aren’t brave.”
“Even grown-ups?”
I lowered her to the ground. A clutter of small square chairs were stacked in the back along the wall. “Especially grown-ups.” I sat on one of the chairs and gathered her onto my lap. “You know, I’m not really that brave, well, until recently. When I was your age, I knew I wanted to be a singer. But then I stopped.”
“Why, Mommy?”
“I was scared that I wasn’t good enough. I made excuses, blamed other people because I got resentful.”
“What’s resentful?”
“Mad.” I sighed. “At other people. But for no good reason.”
“You were mad at Daddy?”
“No, baby.”
“Me? JJ?” Her voice was small and unsure.
“Of course not. It’s a long story, but it was my fault. And I apologize for how I treated you. You, Daddy, and JJ are the best things that have ever happened to me, and I’ll never ever let you go again.”
Bria squeezed me tighter. “Good, Mommy. Because I missed you. And I was tired of being mad at you.”
“I was tired of you being mad at me, too.”
Bria giggled against my chest. I breathed in her fresh cotton clothes, the smell of coconut oil in her hair. She smelled like my baby. She smelled like home.
“I’m tired of being mad at you, too.” James’s voice jerked my attention. Bria hopped off my lap and rushed her daddy, giving him a big squeeze.
“You did great, baby girl.”
“Thank you, Daddy.”
I stood and then rushed him like our daughter, wrapping my arms around his waist.
“Love you, Nik,” he whispered against my hair.
“Love you more.”
“Not possible.”
“Is so.”
“Eww.” Bria made gagging noises, but the grin on her face gave away the fact that she was happy her mom and dad were happy.
“I’m sorry I left you hanging.” I squeezed him tight again, snuggling against his chest.
“It’s okay. You had to lose yourself for a while so you could figure things out.”
“I quit the band.”
He exhaled. “Not gonna lie, I’m happy about it, but how do you feel?”
“Happy, sad, a little lost, but optimistic.”
He leaned away, grabbing my chin. “Look, I know music is as important to you as breathing. And, baby, I want you to breathe deep. So, I insist that you follow your dreams. And to support you, I’ve decided a few things.”
“What’s that?”
“Well, I don’t love my job. And, honestly, I do taxes, which can be seasonal. How about I quit my job, work part-time and help out at home with the kids while you pursue music? We’ll have to cut back and downsize, but as long as we’re together I’m happy.”
“W-what?”
“I’m quitting my job so you can be my sugar mama.” He smiled. “I’m gonna be a good trophy husband, and I promise to keep my body tight.”
I snorted. “We don’t have to downsize.”
“We don’t?”
“Nope.” I popped the P. “I’m writing songs for Tattered Souls and a few other bands on the record label. And . . . I’m doing a solo album. They sent the numbers over and, baby, not saying we’re rich, but I’m making a little more than your salary.”
“Hot damn. I married up.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You had already married up.”
“True that.” He laughed, and the vibration that rumbled in his chest warmed me.
“So, we’re doing this?”
“No doubt, baby. Where you go, I go.” He waved at Bria. “We go.”
His voice dropped to a whisper. “We need to talk about your drinking. Not now, but maybe later when—”
“I’m handling it, babe. I signed up for local,” I looked around and dropped my voice lower, in case of eavesdroppers, “AA meetings. I also joined an online support group the other day. It’ll be good for me while I’m on the road.”
James exhaled and pulled me tighter. “That’s my girl. I knew you’d figure it out.”
“I’m trying. It’s going to be a long road.” I nuzzled his chest. “I need you to have patience with me.”
He kissed my forehead, then gave me a bright smile. “You’ve got it.”
“They’re about to announce the winners!” Mama whispered from behind us.
From the tears in her eyes, I knew she’d overheard our conversation.
James scooped Bria in his arms and then took my hand. “Let’s go, girls. You too, Mrs. Hardt.” He jerked his head toward Mama.
She smiled and joined us. We gathered near the stage as one of the teachers made the announcement. They were now up to the top three winners. Pigtail girl had been announced as the runner-up. No mention of Bria’s name. I was not at all nervous. My baby was the best.
“And the winner of Baywood Prep’s Talent show is . . . Bria Grayson!”
Bria ran onstage and accepted the gold trophy and red ribbon. Without prompt, she took the mic from the teacher, who looked shocked. “This is dedicated to my mommy. She’s a rock star and the bestest mama in the world. And one day we’re going to sing on a big stage, even bigger than this one, and see the entire world.”
I heard a collective “aww” from the audience.
I wanted to run onstage, hug and kiss my daughter, but this was her moment. I thought I needed other people to worship me to be happy. But here, with Mama, James, and my baby, and once we got home, JJ, my life was pretty damn good. Happiness wasn’t thousands of miles away on the road with a band, nor was it in the future.
Happiness was in this moment. Happiness is now.