Violet Addiction (17 page)

“Another two beers, Malcolm,” called a female voice from beside me. “Hey,” she added as she glanced my way.

“Hey,” I replied. The bartender, Malcolm apparently, served her up two long necks before moving back to what I was beginning to assume was the holy grail of ice hockey.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” the woman said, her words only slurring slightly.

“I was born here, but I live in New York now,” I explained. Under sober conditions, I probably wouldn’t be quite so forthcoming with a complete stranger, but I was creeping into the pleasantly buzzing stage of inebriation where I felt completely at ease.

“I’ve always wanted to go to New York,” she sighed wistfully. “My name’s Georgie, that’s my husband, Drew.” She nodded towards the man who sat alone at the booth by the jukebox. “You look familiar; don’t suppose you went to West Field?” The name of my high school rang out like a loud bell in my ears, and it took me a moment to focus my attention back on Georgie, memories of my troubled teenage years bombarding my senses.

“I did,” I whispered.

“Violet, right?”

Georgie nailed my name; however, she wasn’t the slightest bit familiar to me. That wasn’t surprising though. I had done my best to coast through school with my head down, disregarding my peers, and paying little to no attention to the goings on around me. I had grown up poor, and in the urban kingdom that was my school, poor scraped the bottom of the food chain. I nodded, letting Georgie know I was, in fact, Violet.

“I knew it!” Georgie screamed, bringing the attention of the entire bar our way, all four of them. “Come say hi to Drew. I was a year behind you, but he was your year. I’m sure you’ll remember him. Andrew Scott, you two were probably friends.” I didn’t tell her there was no chance of that. I had only one friend in school and that was Cain. Georgie practically dragged me from my chair, and I grabbed my drink as I followed her across the bar. “Drew, you remember Violet, don’t you?” Drew pulled his unfocused gaze from his drink and squinted as he tried to place me. Not surprisingly, I didn’t remember him.

After a long, awkward moment, he smiled. “Violet, I remember you. You got hammered at Jed Dyson’s graduation party and clocked that bitch Samantha O’Malley!”

I winced, not one of my finer moments. It was during my senior year of high school that I discovered my love of the white powder and Johnny Walker. Jed Dyson’s party, though as hammered as Drew had just mentioned, was still a fairly vivid memory. Samantha O’Malley was a complete and utter bitch, but punching her for putting her nasty mouth on Cain’s was a crazy moment for me, and I didn’t like to do crazy. Drunk, stoned, not a problem. Crazy was not in my vocabulary. It was also the very first time Cain got a glimpse of my true feelings for him, and as angry with me as he had been, he later confessed he liked my possessive streak. I slid into the booth opposite Drew and Georgie, who continued to bombard me with memories, most of which were not mine. After Georgie had slipped away to the ladies room for the third time and came back, discreetly wiping her nose, I knew they had some blow. While Drew spent the world’s longest time selecting songs on the jukebox, I played nervously with the rim of my glass. What I would give for just one line. With the whiskey now playing havoc with my senses and equilibrium, it would even me out. Just one line would straighten me up and put me in a nice happy place. One line would nudge away my drunken haze. Just one line.

“Georgie, would you or Drew know where I could score some dust?” Georgie had been jabbering on about her parrot, Bernie, but at my question, she went quiet and still. With a nervous glance around, she gave me a small nod. The bar had a few more patrons now, but everyone was busy minding their own business.

“Here.” She pushed a small, clear bag filled with at least a half a gram of coke across the table, and I met her hand to discreetly make the exchange. When I tried to give her some cash, Georgie flat out refused with a vicious shake of her head. “For old times.” She smiled. “For Samantha O’Malley, she gave me a hard time in school. It was awesome seeing her go down that night.” I fumbled my way through an awkward thank you before grabbing my things and making a hasty retreat towards the back of the bar. Instead of heading for the ladies room, I set my eyes on the exit sign at the end of a long hallway and flicked up the lock before pushing it open and stumbling into the cool afternoon air. The sun was still up, but only just, casting long shadows across the dirty back alleyway. Slamming the door closed, I sagged against the side of the building and took a deep breath of air that was tainted by the scent of garbage. I closed my eyes and slid down the wall until I rested on my haunches. Then slowly, I looked down at the small bag clenched in my fist. Tears pooled in my eyes as I threw my head back and thumped it against the wall at my back.

“Fuck…fuck…fuck.” Like a slow building eruption of pain, an ugly sob spilled from my lips, then the first tear fell. I was so fucked.

I had no idea how long I sat there in that dirty, dark alley, but the vibration of my phone under my fingertips caught my attention. With my eyes still glued to the unopened powder lying in my palm, I answered it.

“Hello.” My voice was rough with abrasive and painful emotion.

“Fuck me, Violet, how many times in one fucking life does one tiny little woman have to scare the ever loving shit out of me?” Harry’s less than amused voice filled my ear. “Where the fuck are you? Cain’s about to have a fucking aneurism. He’s been trying to call you for hours.”

I glanced around and realized the sun had truly set. It was also incredibly cold, and the dampness from the concrete beneath me had seeped through my clothes.

“Fat Joe’s,” I whispered.

“Who the fuck is Joe?” Harry snapped impatiently.

“It’s a bar.” That seemed to silence him.

“You okay, honey?” His voice had lost all anger in a heartbeat.

“No,” I admitted.

“I’m going to hang up and call Cain, so he can come and get you.” More tears fell as I clenched my fist in an attempt to make the cocaine disappear. It was just too tempting.

“Please don’t,” I whispered. “He’s going to be so disappointed in me.”

“Honey, he’s out of his mind with worry, and you could never disappoint Cain.” Harry wasn’t even swearing anymore which meant he was beyond worried.

“Yeah I could, Harry. He already left me once.”

Harry let out a long sigh. “I’m calling him, Violet. Don’t you dare move either; he’ll be there soon.”

Harry hung up, and I let the phone slip from my ear and clatter to the ground. I still held the cocaine in my hand, afraid if I opened my fist I wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation. There was enough there for two lines, two lines that would allow me to escape from the emotions I was trying to ignore. The problem was it was nothing but a temporary escape that also came with its own form of pain. The kind of pain I wasn’t sure I could survive again, the kind of pain I didn’t want to put Cain through again. He deserved so much more. How could I be so selfish? This was his day. He saw his child for the first time, and I had to go and ruin it because of my own insecurities and childishness. One hitch in the road and I run for the nearest bar. God, I was pathetic. The sobbing that tore from my chest made me feel even more pitiful. A buzzing from somewhere close by broke through my weeping, and I realized my phone was ringing again. With cold clumsy fingers, I picked it up.

“Hello,” I sniffled.

“Where are you, baby? I’m at Fat Joe’s and I can’t see you.” I could hear the worry in Cain’s voice.

“Out back, alleyway,” I whispered.

“Don’t move,” he commanded me. I wasn’t about to; I was pretty sure I couldn’t anyway. I was freezing, my body trembling with the onslaught of sorrow and the icy cold air. Snow was weeks, if not days away. A cloud of mist formed in front of my lips when I breathed. As my body fell from the alcohol induced high I had forced it into, the cold invaded my limbs.

A thump at the door beside me made me flinch and then he was in front of me, his eyes tormented with worry. “Are you hurt, baby?” he said with panic in his voice, his thumbs brushing away my tears.

“Please get rid of it,” I sobbed, forcing my clenched fist towards him. My fingers were clasped so tightly it actually hurt as Cain forced them apart. He hesitated for only a moment when he saw what had been in my hand. “I didn’t take any. Just get rid of it, please.” At my begging he grabbed the small bag and left me to throw it in the industrial sized garbage bin that sat across the alleyway from us. Then he was kneeling back in front of me again, concern on his beautiful features.

“We need to get you warm, come on.” He took my hand to help me stand, but I’d been sitting, unmoving in the cold for too long. My muscles cramped, and my limbs throbbed with the effort. Not prepared to give me time to work away the pain, Cain scooped me into his arms, and I didn’t fight it. His warmth was too precious to deny.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered in his ear.

“Shhh, there’s nothing for you to be sorry about.”

“I’ve been drinking, I nearly snorted away almost a year’s worth of sobriety, and I ruined your day.” I listed the reasons I was sorry.

“We all slip from time to time, baby. What matters most is how you stand back up. You didn’t ruin my day, but you did scare the shit out of me. We can talk about that tomorrow when you’re warm and sober.” He placed me carefully in the front seat of the car which I realized was actually my father’s. Pulling the seatbelt across my chest and lap, he gifted me with a chaste kiss to the forehead before closing the door. The drive back to my father’s was quiet. The warm air from the vents were all pointed in my direction, but I still shook, the cold so deep in my body I thought I’d never be warm again. The shame from what I had done was so all-encompassing I couldn’t bring myself to even glance Cain’s way. Once back at my dad’s, ignoring my protests, Cain carried me into the house.

“Damn it, pumpkin, you trying to give your old man a heart attack?” my dad huffed.

“I’ll get a bath started; she’s freezing.” Cain carefully placed me on the sofa then disappeared in the direction of the bathroom. Dad knelt before me, and his big, oil stained hands covered mine.

“Please don’t do that again, Violet. I’ve already lost one woman I loved. I don’t think I could survive losing another.”

Guilt, piled upon guilt, piled upon guilt. So much guilt, I felt smothered, my breath coming in wheezing gasps.

“Settle down, pumpkin, take a few big, deep breaths. You’re okay now. We’re gonna get you warm, you’re gonna have a good night’s sleep, and tomorrow you’ll dust yourself off and battle another day.” He cupped my cheek. “That’s what we Trivoli do best; we’re fighters.”

I looked into my dad’s worried eyes and wondered how many times he had taken care of my mom when she was like this. My mom, for all her faults, had been a fighter too; she bounced in and out of rehab more times than I could remember, but in the end, the poison won. I wasn’t my mother though. I was stronger than her.

“I’m sorry, Daddy. I promise it won’t happen again.” I felt like a little girl apologizing for breaking my mom’s favorite wine glass.

“Don’t be sorry, honey, and don’t promise me that. I broke sobriety twice, and it’s still a daily battle. Just promise you will keep fighting, honey. That’s all we can do in life, and the mistakes we make along the way are proof we are at least trying.” Such beautiful, simple words. Keep fighting, try harder, and learn from the mistakes. I needed to be better, for my dad, for Cain, but most of all, for me.

“Come on, let’s get you in the bath.” Dad stepped aside so Cain could pull me to my legs which were still trembling. The bathroom was only a short walk down a narrow hallway though, and as much as Cain wanted to carry me, I forced myself to walk. Once behind the closed door, Cain helped undress me with an impersonal care that I both adored and hated. It was the tender care he had always picked me up with, but we weren’t that Violet and Cain anymore; we were something more. Once seated in the tub, Cain scooped up water and poured it over my shoulders.

“Is it a boy or girl?” I whispered through my heartache.

“It’s too early to tell.” He kissed my temple. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow, okay.” With deep breaths, I fought away the tears. I had to find a way to deal with this jealousy. Every time the thought of Annabelle growing large with Cain’s baby inside her crossed my mind, a small piece of my heart broke away. I was terrified the day would come when there would be nothing left but crumbs. Eventually the shaking in my limbs smoothed out into stillness, and Cain encouraged me to step from the cooling water and into the embrace of a warm towel. He dried me off and helped me step into pajama bottoms. The top he pulled over my head was his old black shirt with “Piano Man” in bold white font across the chest. “I love you in my clothes,” he quietly confessed before guiding me to the kitchen, where my dad waited with a bowl of steaming soup. My stomach wasn’t interested in the food, but to appease the men who were so carefully tending to me, I ate every drop. I remained silent while Cain and my dad murmured through a soft and inconsequential conversation. As soon as I was finished, Cain guided me towards my bedroom. The electric blanket had already been turned on, and I melted into the warmth of the sheets. When Cain’s firm chest pressed against my back, I snuggled into the comfort of his presence. Sleep came swiftly, pulling me rapidly from the chaos into a place of calm.

The lurching of my stomach had me waking like a bullet out of a gun. I leapt from the bed and slammed my way through the two doorways that separated me and the bathroom. Emptying the contents of my stomach was a messy business, and as soon as I realized Cain had followed me, I tried to push him away. It was like trying to move a mountain though. Once I’d finally stopped gagging, a warm washcloth was placed in my hand. I collapsed on the cold tiles beside the toilet.

“Everyone okay in there?” came my father’s voice from the other side of the door.

I groaned with embarrassment.

“All good in here, Mr. Trivoli. Violet’s just saying good morning to the shitter.”

Dad chuckled. “Wonderful, as soon as you’re done, I need to say good morning too; otherwise, Mrs. Wicker next door is going to be screaming at me for taking a leak in her garden again.” Cain and I laughed. “And I told you to call me Garrett.” My father’s footsteps retreated in the direction of the kitchen. Cain spread some toothpaste over my toothbrush and handed it to me.

“You don’t like my morning breath?” I asked with a sheepish smile.

“I’m not fond of your vomit breath,” he answered with a charming grin. “And now that your mouth is occupied, I can talk without you interrupting me.” I gave him a raised brow and he shrugged. “What can I say, I hate being interrupted.” I began brushing quickly, with every intention of thwarting Cain’s attempt to keep me quiet. He pinned me in place with a serious and determined look on his face. “There is to be no guilt,” he said sharply. “If anyone in this room is to feel guilty, it’s me, Violet.” This is the point I would have interrupted him. Damn toothpaste. “I’m the one who used a woman to replace another which inevitably got us into this unusual situation. I love you, Violet.” The brush stopped and my heart did a peculiar little flip. “I have always loved you, and my reason for going to Annabelle was to numb my aching heart. Now both you and Annabelle are paying for my stupidity.” I began brushing again, needing to get my oral hygiene finished so I could partake in this conversation. “Annabelle is heartbroken because she wanted what you and I had. When she realized that wasn’t going to happen, it was too late; she was pregnant and that changed everything. And you are heartbroken because you have to stand by and watch another woman carry my child.” Oh yeah, that reminder hurt. It stung so bad, my eyes filled with tears. “Can you spit so I can hold you or something?” he asked quietly. I jumped up to the sink, spat, and rinsed quickly before sinking back down to the floor beside Cain. Gentle fingers caressed my cheek. “Seeing my baby for the first time yesterday was pretty damn amazing.” His whispering voice was full of awe as my first tear fell. “The only thing that could have made that day better was you. My baby, our baby, in here.” His hand left my cheek to rest on my stomach. “I can’t change the past, Violet. I can’t go back and get a do-over. So help me God, if I could, I would. Instead, I’m trying to do what’s right, I’m trying to be what Annabelle and the baby need and give them what I can, and I’m trying to be what you need and give you what I can. One day, it will be our baby in here, but for now I’m going to love you like no other, and I need you by my side, baby. I can’t do this whole father thing on my own, and even though Annabelle is the biological mother of our child, you are going to play a pretty important role in his or her life, too.”