Time Out (14 page)

Once the rush of adrenaline from take-off had passed, and my stomach had settled down again, I started to ramble in my attempt to keep Riley talking to me. It wasn’t hard to do; between the two of our busy schedules we had so much to catch up on.

“I know the pain of what happened to Ted is still too fresh in everyone’s memory, but what was Robert Vance doing on Hawkins’ tour bus seconds before the bomb went off?”

“I don’t know, Joie, but he’s U.S. intelligence, so I doubt he planted the bomb.”

“Then who did? And why?”

“Maybe the terrorists?” he offered. “You couldn’t have gotten a better opportunity to do something like than at an unsupervised hotel parking lot.”

“But why target us of all people? We’re no one in the big scheme of things.”

“Yeah—you got me there. I’ve got no clue.”

“And why was Vance in Hawkins’ room? I’m sorry, but I don’t believe he was there because it was security protocol.” I threw him a look like come on now.

“It’s suspicious, I agree.” 

“Something’s off, I can feel it, and I hate leaving Hawkins while knowing it. But don’t tell him that,” I quickly added. “Let him suffer a little longer. He did send me home,” I rolled my eyes, still pissed. “And make Lizzie get back with Warren,” I finally added once we had moved onto gossiping about her next. “I don’t care what she thinks. He’s good for her. Anyone who can show up every morning just to see her deserves a second chance.”

“I’m not sure she can,” Riley ticked. “It might interfere with her plans to take down his sister,” he explained, causing me to snicker because if anyone could handle Gwyneth, it was Lizzie.

“She’s been secretly ordering her room service and her favorite chocolates in an attempt to get her fat,” Riley snorted.

“Now that’s the Lizzie I remember from high school. The girl who wouldn’t put up with anyone giving us shit,” I smiled at the memory.

“No, she did not,” he emphasized. “She’s definitely not someone you want against you.” 

“Look out, Gwyneth,” I smiled at just the thought alone. “Hell hath no fury like a Lizzie scorned.” We began to have a good laugh at this when suddenly I groaned and leaned forward again.

“Are you okay?” Riley asked tentatively.

“Yeah, I think,” I gulped as I leaned back in my seat again; willing myself to hold on for Riley’s sake.

I didn’t know if it was karma, for wishing ill things to happen to Gwyneth, or if it was because the plane was dropping too quickly for my stomach, but for whatever the reason I had to find the nearest restroom that I could, and preferably not the one in the back of the plane that
the everyone
could overhear. 

“That good of a time, eh?”
Riley smirked at the sight of my ashen face; trying to make light of the situation when I came back out of the restroom near the airport’s shops and restaurants.

“The best ever,” I groaned, slowly starting to feel better now that the plane ride was over.

“I’d give you a kiss goodbye, but I know where those lips have been.”

We started to laugh, but then I remembered that this might be the last time I would see Riley in a long time, and the thought slowly sobered me up.

“Keep me posted on everything, and when I say everything, I also mean Rob.” I pointed my finger at him accusingly. “The two of you are so hush hush—”

“This is coming from
you
of all people?” he asked sarcastically, and I knew he was referring to the way Hawkins and my relationship used to be.

“Then hell, hold onto it as long as you can,” I smiled weakly. “Well—don’t forget about us little people,” I quickly added as we leant in to hug each other again.

As I turned to leave, Riley suddenly called out, “Joie!” causing me to turn back around. “For whatever it’s worth,” he slowly began to nod. “I’d let you go too. If I were straight, I mean,” he cracked a small grin and then added more seriously. “I’d
make
you go too. Just remember that…” he drifted off and before he could turn to leave I ran into his arms. Feeling my body crash into his solid frame, I felt my eyes well up with tears as we hugged.

“I’ll miss you Riley, my very, very gay crush.”

             
When we finally let go, I went to wipe away a tear and sniffed, “I’m serious about Lizzie. Make her take Warren back. Tell her…tell her it would drive Gwyneth nuts!” I smiled at my quickness.

             
“Nice,” he beamed. “Don’t worry, I will.” 

             
“Good,” I finally sighed, feeling as if I could handle whatever was coming next.

“Well—see you,” I smiled before turning around to head in the direction of the airport’s shuttle. Leaving Riley behind was almost just as jarring as leaving Hawkins. Who knew when I’d see my best friend again? He was going back to the kind of traveling, the ever growing world that never settled down long enough in one place to grow roots, and I was heading back to a place that time seemed to have forgotten.

Chapter
Nine

  My mom might not look like much at only five feet tall, but she had a spark about her that made me stop dead in my tracks when her hazel eyes locked with mine. I knew that saying a simple ‘sorry’ was not going to cut it with her now. I had lied to her. I had told her I was working for Nicholas Johnson’s presidential campaign when I was really following a band around on their summer tour. I knew my mom. I knew how badly the lie must have hurt her, and quite frankly scared her.

She always wanted the very best for me. She wanted me to attend the best schools, make the best grades, and become something when I finally graduated. Maybe she was driven by fear; the fear that I would never become self-sufficient and be able to take care of myself if something was to ever happen to her. She wanted more from me than to live pay check to pay check. I think she also hoped I didn’t have too much of my father in me, the dreamer. Whatever the reason, the closer I neared to graduation day without having a clue as to what I wanted to with my life, the more anxious she became. 

So when Riley and Lizzie concocted the plan for us to follow the Grimm Brother’s Band around on their summer tour; I took the opportunity to flee from my mom and the high expectations she had for me.

After falling in love with Hawkins, I felt like everything suddenly made sense. I was suddenly so sure. It felt
right
, when a lot of other things never had. I still had no clue as to what I wanted to do with my life, but I now knew who I wanted to spend my life with while doing it. I knew that my mom would never approve of it. Approve of the idea of only being sure of whom I loved when I looked to my future because in a way, she had spent my entire life trying to protect me from that same mistake she had made with my father. The idea that you can’t always depend on someone else to protect you in this life. 

She had learned from her mistakes. She had become wiser because of them. And I literally gasped a heart breaking kind of sigh as we stood there staring at each other because I knew we were way past the ‘I told you so’ speech. 

“I’d ask where your luggage is,” my mom said coolly. “But then I’d also have to ask where your father’s van is…but then again, I’m not sure why you’d start to be honest with me
now
.”

Her words hit me like a ton of bricks as she got in behind the wheel of her red Pontiac Grand Am.

“It’s nice to see you too, mom,” I sighed under my breath before opening the passenger side door to get in as well.

We sat in silence for most of the trip back home because I didn’t know what to say to her. I didn’t know how to apologize to her for leading her on for weeks by telling her that I had gotten a job. It was the reason I was travelling, I remembered telling her. And for once, she sounded so proud of me because I was finally telling her everything she wanted to hear.

The situation was only made worse when I realized she had a soft spot for the presidential hopeful; something she shared with Hawkins, who had gone as far as to help promote the democrat by registering voters at his concerts.   

“Do you know how long you’ll be staying?” she finally asked.

“Until things blow over,” I lied, hating that I couldn’t be honest with her again. “He thinks this is what’s best for my safety,” I murmured, knowing at least that part was true.

“Well—that’s not what the magazines are saying,” she huffed. “And by the way, I am not overbearing.” 

“Mom, don’t read those. They’re never accurate,” I said, thinking what were they saying about me now? I knew they didn’t know I had left yet. I still had that to look forward to I realized grudgingly.

“Don’t tell me that,” she insisted.

“It’s the truth mom. Everyone knows that what they write is a bunch of rubbish.” 

“Yeah well that
rubbish
is the only connection I’ve had to my daughter’s life, so don’t tell me that it’s not accurate.”

I thought I was incapable of feeling any more pain than I already had today, but hearing her confession made my heart feel like it had shattered into a thousand tiny pieces. 

“They must know
some
things,” she continued to defend the tabloids, but I didn’t have it in my heart to stop her now. I had hurt her. I just didn’t know how much until now.

“They use quotation marks,” she continued, making my eyes suddenly prickle with tears. “And sources— Yes mom, they do quote people.” I gave in with a sniffle and a nod.

“Then it’s true that he was going to marry that girl?” She looked over at me for clarification.

“A long time ago, yes,” I nodded; thinking Gwyneth was the last person I wanted to be talking about right now. 

“Joie,” she said my name no louder than a whisper. “How could you be so foolish?”

“I don’t know, mom,” I suddenly gasped, because I was too tired to keep pretending everything was okay when it wasn’t. “I’m sorry.” I finally broke down and told her.

“Oh honey,” her tone suddenly softened. “I don’t blame you, not really. You’re young and you fell in love. I’m just glad that you got out of it before something stupid happened.”

“Like what happened with you and dad?” I turned to lock eyes with her.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Joie,” she huffed.

You never do
, I thought with a heavy sigh as I looked out at the familiar sight of the street that led down our block to our house. Our neighborhood was filled with residents that some would call ‘old money’. The surrounding houses, which were all built differently to each other and varied from block to block, were created in a time before cul-de-sacs became popular among the wealthy.   

Our house didn’t look like much from the front. It was a two story white house with navy blue shutters. It used to belong to my grandfather before my mom inherited it. I was too young to remember much about my grandfather when he died, but I felt like a piece of him lived on in our house because it was still decorated the same way that he had left it. My mom hadn’t even changed as much as a piece of furniture or painting on the wall. It even smelled like the same mossy, old house he owned when we finally came through the front door minutes later.

The house had always reminded me of a museum because of all the paintings, sculptures, vases, animal figurines, and the expensive furniture that filled the rooms. To the left was the living room, decorated with a stiff black and white floral love seat which lined the wall to my left and matching couch which was positioned adjacent to it under a bay window that faced the front yard. I can’t remember the last time I actually sat down on either one of them because like the furniture in a museum, it was prettier to look at than to sit on.