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"He hates me," I said.
"No, he does not. He's hurt and he's confused and he doesn't know what to do to protect his heart. He may want to think he can hate you, but he definitely does not."
"Nice," I said. "Just the a.s.sessment I want." My eyes locked onto Maeve's. "Like I said, I'm going back to Paris."
"You know Mom and Dad set a bad precedent that summer," Maeve said. "While I understand why they sent us away, and why you agreed because, h.e.l.l yes, that summer was confusing as s.h.i.+t. I don't even remember half the things that went down. They shouldn't have let you leave. Because now, big sister, every time things get tough that is exactly what you want to do."
I spun around and looked at Maeve. "This from you? You have a pa.s.sport stamp from every country on the planet."
"Right, but that's different," Maeve said and her lips curved into a smile.
"Please, tell me how," I said and sat on her bed. My little sister thought she had me all figured out. Well, I wanted to hear it, perhaps a part of me needed to hear it. I wanted to grasp onto the hope that Maeve would have something, some suggestion, to illuminate the pathway back to Sterling's heart.
"My trips are planned in advance. Your trips are an immediate reaction to perceived failure or fear."
My heart thwacked hard in my chest. My nostrils flared and my palms grew moist. I fought the urge to shoot up from Maeve's bed and rush out of the bedroom and down the hall.
"Not true," I lied and tried to keep my face calm.
"Very true," Maeve said with a gentle smile on her face. "And you know it. I can give examples. When we moved to Ireland, after that summer with Sterling, when you went to school in England. After you dated that boy in Dublin you took off for Paris. Do you remember the summer after graduation? Remember the college guy who wouldn't leave you alone, so you took off? Then, in Paris, when Gerard wanted to get serious, before he left for Syria, you decided to come back to the states?"
"I came to the states because of Mama's ankle. To help her."
"Right," Maeve said and nodded. "That was convenient. I seem to remember a call where Mama said she didn't need any help. That she had someone staying with her. That I should stay in India and you should stay in Paris and-"
"All right," I said. I held up my hand and took a deep breath, trying to quell the discomfort in my chest. "I see your point. I understand what you're saying, but my life is in Paris."
"And Sterling isn't," Maeve said. "Nor is this mess we have to wade through that was created by our parents and his. If we don't get this figured out now, we never will."
She was right. Maeve was one hundred percent right. I did not want to deal with this mess. I wanted to run. To get away. In Paris I could pretend. Miles away, I would see what I wanted to see. I could simply leave the dirty sc.r.a.ps of this life behind, and go back to my life in Paris. That life included my paints, my brushes, my canvases, and friends who were not family. Friends who didn't expect or need or create unfathomable problems that I could barely see, or try to fix.
"You are in love, and the man you are in love with loves you back," Maeve said. "He's loved you since we were kids and it's not gone away for either of you. I think it's time for you to stay. Time for you to fight for what you need and what you want. Your missing piece isn't in Paris. Your missing piece is a love that you are meant to share with Sterling."
"He doesn't want it, Maeve." I crossed my arms over my chest. "He told me that we can't get past what happened. All the bad things between our families. All the lies." I was shaking. My little sister had hit upon the truth. I was afraid, I was running, I wanted to be with Sterling, but I didn't want the pain of his rejection.
"He's afraid," Maeve said. "And, really, can you blame him? You left him the last time you were in love. After he lost his mother. And now he finds out he has this entire separate family and that you knew about them. Why wouldn't he be scared?"
"I was a child. We were kids, Mama told me not to tell."
"Rhi, I'm not blaming you. I'm not saying you were wrong." Maeve put her arm around my shoulder. "I understand what you did, and deep down inside I am certain, if Sterling could get past the hurt and the fear and all the other bulls.h.i.+t, he would understand what you did, too. But you can't leave again. Not if you want him. Not if you want to try to build a life with him. This time you have to stay. This time you have to fight for what you want no matter what our parents say or what Sterling says. You have to go and make him understand."
I clasped my hands together into a ball on my lap. I looked at Maeve. "That will be the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I don't know if I can even do it."
"Yes, I understand that," Maeve said. "But losing Sterling forever would be even harder."
Sterling Backstage Billie handed Rhett a card. Amanda and I leaned against a cement block wall painted black with streaks of red. We watched from a distance. Rhett leaned toward her with his arm above her head, his hand pressed against the wall. He was so obviously trying to work his musician magic on Billie. She smiled and leaned in. After years as an A&R exec she had to be immune even as Rhett laid on the charm. Once Rhett had the card and slipped it in his pocket, Billie said good-bye and slipped down the hall.
"Good luck," she whispered to me and Amanda, and raised her eyebrow. I glanced at my sister and then we both looked at Rhett. He stood at the far end of the hall. Gone was the soft smooth smile he'd given to Billie. Instead his face was marred by an angry look that was hard and cold. There was an urge deep in my gut to run down the hall and lunge at him. Beat the s.h.i.+t out of him. Pummel that mean look into submission.
"Come on," Amanda said. She hitched her purse up over her shoulder. "Let's rip this bandage off."
I followed behind Amanda. Where did this need to pummel the smug and angry look that decorated Rhett's face come from? He slipped out the back door of the club and we followed. He halted and turned toward Amanda and me. We were nearly the same height but he was slighter, more lean.
"This is awkward," Amanda said. "We came to see you. I left several messages for you-"
"Whatever you want is not for me," he said. "I feel pretty d.a.m.n good about my life. Sorry to hear that yours sucks so bad."
I took a step forward and opened and closed my fists at my sides. Wow, this guy had a chip on his shoulder the size of Africa. Amanda grasped my forearm. "Easy, killer," she whispered.
"Seriously?" Rhett asked. He slipped a cigarette into his mouth and lit it with a silver Zippo. "You come to find me, and now you want to kick my a.s.s? I would have thought Daddy's money would have bought better psychological services than that. You got some seriously f.u.c.ked-up s.h.i.+t going up there." He tapped his temple.
"We came here because we wanted to introduce ourselves. Because"-Amanda looked from Rhett's eyes to mine and back to Rhett-"because we just found out about you. About your sisters, about our extended family."
Rhett took a long drag on his cigarette and a smile curled across his face. "Family? You're not my family. You're the kids my dad had with his wife."
"Right," I said. I took two steps closer to the a.s.shole that was my half-brother. "And you're the kids our dad had with our housekeeper."
Rhett's gaze slid from Amanda to me. The muscle in his jaw flinched and a cruel wicked curl took over his mouth and his eyes gleamed with anger. "That's what you think? That's what you want to believe? That's all that my mother was to our father? Okay then, you don't know Dad as well as I thought you did." He tossed his cigarette onto the ground and stubbed it out with his boot. "I'd go check in with Daddy Dearest, because the relations.h.i.+p with my mother is the one thing that's been consistent in his life for the last twenty-seven years."
"What the h.e.l.l are you trying to say?"
"What I am saying that our father and my mother have been together since before your a.s.s was born ... and they're still together. The way that they want to be."
My mouth dropped open. What the h.e.l.l? I took two steps back. This was more than I could process. Dad had this entire other family but he was still involved with Anita? He kept his relations.h.i.+p with her after Mom died? After Mom found out? After he'd been married three more times?
"What the h.e.l.l?" I mumbled. I turned to Amanda and she looked as surprised as I did.
"Could we"-Amanda started, her eyes flickered with the want that stemmed from the romantic idea of some Brady Bunch existence that she'd always wanted-"could we maybe try to get together? The five of us? Just us kids." Her gaze went from me to Rhett. "I'd like to meet my sisters." Her voice was soft and there was a true need in her eyes.
The meanness in Rhett's eyes dimmed for a millisecond as he seemed to relax with Amanda's earnestness, and then the softening was gone. He hooked his finger into his jeans and stood taller. "There's nothing I want from you two. Nothing I need. I know who I am. I have my own family."
Amanda swallowed. A look of pain pa.s.sed through her eyes. I wanted to beat the s.h.i.+t out of this guy for making my little sister sad.
"What is your problem?" I asked. "We haven't done s.h.i.+t to you, except come here and introduce ourselves."
"Man, this is bush league. You ambushed me at my show. Then you come back here? What the h.e.l.l did you expect? A family-f.u.c.king-reunion? I don't know you! I don't know her. The only thing I know is that you got more time with Dad than I ever did."
"You're going to blame us for something our parents did? You're going to be a complete a.s.shole to me and Amanda because of them?"
He looked over at me. "You got no reason to be p.i.s.sed, man. You're a Legend, and you always have been." Rhett yanked open the back door and bolted into the club. We stood in silence under the bright fluorescent light.
"That didn't go well," Amanda said.
"What a d.i.c.k." I walked around the corner of the club toward the parking lot. Amanda walked beside me.
She stopped. "You're kidding, right?"
"Kidding? You liked that a.s.shole?"
"His behavior? Not so much. But, come on Sterling, think about it. Daddy has gone between two families for nearly three decades and he kept one of them completely secret. Wouldn't you be a little bit p.i.s.sed off if the tables were turned?"
"But why is he mad at us? What the h.e.l.l did I do? What the h.e.l.l did you do? Other than be born to Dad?"
I opened the car door for Amanda. "Seriously?" She c.o.c.ked her eyebrow and stared at me. "That's rich coming from you. The same guy who blames Rhiannon Bliss for every f.u.c.kup our parents made?" Amanda got into my car and pulled the door shut.
My gut tightened. Like a punch to the belly, Amanda's words sent me reeling. But the situation between Rhiannon and me was entirely different. Wasn't it?
"You've taken that whole summer and laid all that bulls.h.i.+t at Rhiannon's feet."
"She left."
"She was fifteen, and she came back."
"But she didn't tell me."
"Just like Daddy didn't tell us?"
"I'm not speaking to him either."
"She was a child. Her parents told her to leave and she left. Her mother told her not to tell and she didn't. She came back, Sterling. She came back for you. And now you're acting just like Rhett. Blaming Rhiannon for something she didn't do and couldn't control." Amanda adjusted her seatbelt and looked straight out the window. "And if you don't figure it out, you're going to lose her again and this time it will be forever."
Chapter 24.
Sterling I turned my head and looked at the sea of faces that stood beside me, including Amanda and Dad. But where was Rhiannon? I needed to see her and to know that she was here. I needed to know that the safety of her arms waited for me. If I could just get through this. I wanted the service to be over so I could turn and walk away from the silver casket and be in Rhiannon's arms.
The horrible lump in my throat, the one that seemed like it would choke me to death, grew larger. My breathing shortened. I caught Gayle's eye. She was alone. Why? Where were Tom and Maeve and Rhiannon? My heartbeat ratcheted upward. A thunder started in my ears and gripped at my head. I pulled my gaze away from Gayle. She wouldn't look at me. The minister continued. I grasped Amanda's hand. Tears streamed down her face and there was nothing he or anyone could say or do to make me or my sister feel better. Nothing. His words sounded dull. The pats on my shoulder, the hugs, the kind words all washed away in a sea of numbness.
At the end of the service I walked over to Gayle, who stood with her arm around Amanda's shoulders.
"Where is Rhiannon?" I barely choked out the words, barely contained my need to see her and hold her and have her arms wrap around me. The only place that held any comfort for me these days was in Rhiannon's arms.
Gayle swallowed. She tightened her grip on Amanda. "Your father wants the two of you to come back to my house for a while."
I nodded. She'd avoided a direct answer to my question but I a.s.sumed I would see Rhiannon soon. I would stay at Gayle's. Rhiannon would be there. Air entered my lungs, a thankful breath knowing that soon I would feel better. Not whole, how could this clutching sadness ever end? This loss was too deep, cut too close. But maybe, like always, Rhiannon's arms, her mouth, her kiss, her eyes, would help me forget my pain.
"She's at home," Gayle said. Her gaze faltered. I saw uncertainty beside the sadness. She'd just buried her best friend. Gayle closed her eyes for a second and then reopened them and fixed her gaze on me. "Rhiannon is in Dublin with her father and Maeve."
The roaring pulsed through my head. My heart thundered in my chest. No. Gayle couldn't be right. I didn't understand ... How could Rhiannon be gone?
"What? What do you mean? When did she leave? When are they coming back?"
Amanda covered her face with her hands and turned away. Gayle stepped closer to me. She grasped my shoulders with her hands. "Sterling, the girls are going to school in England in the fall. They won't be back ... not for a while."
I couldn't breathe. I couldn't see. The tears, the heat, the flat facial expression I'd worked so hard to maintain cracked, and the heat, the horrible heat of tears started to flood my eyes.
"That's not true," I said. "Rhiannon would never leave without saying good-bye."
My heart ached with the memory. I didn't often let my mind wander to that summer, the summer Mom died, the summer I lost Rhiannon, the summer I didn't want to go on. There was a deep dark hole in my soul just after the funeral, a hole I tried my d.a.m.ndest to fill with parties, and girls, and late nights. Gayle had clutched me back by the collar and yanked me from the abyss. But she didn't have to. She could have been angry with Mom and Dad and turned her back on Amanda and me, but she didn't. And now, seven years later, it hit me. It occurred to me what might have happened if Rhiannon had lived in Gayle's house, too. The whole thing would have been a Shakespearean tragedy waiting to happen.
Gayle was strong and brave and kind. She'd sent her two children away, somewhere safe, where they could become strong women, while she tended to two motherless children. There could have been much more pain, many more recriminations, if at fifteen and seventeen Rhiannon and I had lived in Gayle's house together. I clutched my hand to my jaw. Gayle's decisions had been hard, but wise. Rhiannon might have thought she'd chosen to leave at fifteen, but she hadn't. Her parents had sent her to Dublin.
Amanda was right. I blamed Rhiannon for choices our parents had made. Gayle and Tom and Mom and Dad had chosen not to tell us about Rhett and Ellen and Sophia. Rhiannon had done what her mother had asked. I closed my eyes. Did I blame her? Could I blame her?
I clenched my jaw. Losing Rhiannon and my mother hurt. It was pain that f.u.c.king gutted me. I bent over and grabbed my hips with my hands. One had died and the other had left; both had abandoned me. There had been nothing left back then. Amanda was swallowed by her own grief. Dad disappeared with women and booze. I was alone.
And alone had become a habit.
Not letting myself feel the depth of my love for Rhiannon, then punis.h.i.+ng her for things beyond her control acted like a stone wall to protect my heart. Long deep breaths filled my lungs. My insides felt hollowed out from the pain, from the memory, from the loss. I didn't want to feel like this anymore.
I stood up and looked into the mirror. Fear punched me in the gut. Fear of losing Rhiannon again. Fear of waking up to find her gone. Fear of filling my heart with love for another person and having them die or leave or abandon me. Fear.
"f.u.c.k fear."
I couldn't build my future on the fears from my past, the fear over what might happen and how and when. Life went by quickly and it could end suddenly. This I knew.
I pulled on my T-s.h.i.+rt and jeans. I thought I was tough and solid and righteous in my anger with Rhiannon. But I hadn't been. I had been unpleasant and afraid. My anger at her was misdirected pain over loss and lies and hurt from long ago. Hurt that I needed to let go of. Hurt that I needed to end so that I could move forward and have the life I wanted. A life with Rhiannon.
Rhiannon "How did Sterling react when you two met Rhett?"
Amanda shook her head. I glanced from her to Maeve. She took another french fry from the plate on the table between them.
"Sterling was an a.s.s," Amanda said. She took a long slow sip of her milkshake. "They both were. Seriously, it was like watching two caged dogs. I mean, I get it, Rhett was surprised and Sterling was angry."
"Why is Sterling so angry?" Maeve broke in. "I mean, I get why he'd be angry with your Dad and even our Dad and maybe your Mom, but why is he angry with everyone else?"
"I think it's because the anger gives him something to focus his pain on. I remember that summer after Mom died and you guys left, he wasn't himself. I don't think we ever got back the Sterling from before. He just ... the loss changed him. It's as if he has to protect himself and me. I think he uses that anger to keep from getting close, because if he doesn't get too close then he can't get too hurt." Amanda put her cup on the table. "Does that make any sense?"
"Lots," Maeve said. She leaned back on the lounge chair on Mama's deck.
I understood what Amanda said. She was right, but her words didn't stop the ache of loss that drifted through me. I hadn't spoken to Sterling in weeks, not since he'd told me that we couldn't be together.
"Did your Dad leave?" Amanda asked.
I shook my head no. "He's heading back to Dublin next week," I said.
"Is he staying here?"
"They're boinking like teenagers," Maeve said. "It's utterly disgusting."
"I know exactly what that's like. Now imagine it was your high school friend that your father was sleeping with." Amanda shuddered and put a fry into her mouth.