Violet Addiction (27 page)

The shrill whistle from a bird nesting high in the large oak tree filled me with a sense of normalcy I’ve been missing for too long now. Living in cities and out of hotels means moments like this are few and far between, the quiet peacefulness of suburbia drowned under concrete chaos. The air was warm, the sun’s rays spearing through clusters of foliage from above, dancing off my pale skin as I wandered across the yard. The house before me is large, a two story beast with a wide front porch and a large block of land with thick, tall trees running down either side, so the closest neighbor felt as if they were an eternity away. Unlike the tiny two bedroom shack I grew up in, this home is a masterpiece.

When I reach the porch steps, I’m so nervous my hands are shaking. Three short steps up, another five to the front door. My heart is beating so hard, its loud echo begins to drown out the birds and whispered breeze that rustles the leaves at my back. I don’t hesitate as I raise my hand to the door and knock softly but surely. After a short time, I hear heavy footsteps approach from the other side. Now I feel so nervous and fragile, I wonder if the wind that wraps itself around me will blow me away. Finally, the door is pulled open and I lean on every ounce of strength I possess to level my gaze and peer into those intense blue eyes that have been more of a home to me than the roof and walls I grew up in. We just stand before each other, staring. Just the two of us, Violet and Cain, just as it should be. Regardless of how much we’ve fought and ached during our journey together, everything just seems right when I am by his side. It was almost as if every breath I took when I was apart from Cain caused me physical pain, but as soon as we were in the same room again, that pain dissolved and I was left with the knowledge that this was my true place in this world. Cain didn’t move, didn’t speak, just watched me with a wariness I found unfamiliar and heartbreaking. It was unlike Cain to be anything but confident, and his guarded presence made me hesitate. Eventually, my gaze lowered to the ground between us as I cleared my throat and drew on some more of that courage that had led me to this point.

“So…” I glanced up to look directly in his eyes, not only wanting Cain to hear my words, but wanting him to see the truth in them. “I used to think you deserved more than me, that you deserved a perfection I couldn’t possibly give you.” When he went to speak, I put up my hand to stop him. “Hear me out; otherwise, I’ll make you brush your teeth, too.” His lips tipped into a crooked smile. “I realized that to be happy, things don’t necessarily have to be perfect, and that if you can look beyond my imperfections and find happiness, then maybe I can, too. Our family isn’t going to be perfect, in fact, it’s going to be downright unconventional, but that’s okay, because we do imperfect really well. I think that’s what makes us work.” I could see the hope beginning to burn in the depths of his eyes and it tugged at my heart. “You once told me that I’m your home. Well, Cain, you’re my home too, and I never wanted to leave you, but I had to. The thing is I don’t want to live half a life somewhere else when I could live a full life here.” I promised myself I wouldn’t cry, but my emotions began to betray me, and a single tear pushed itself free. “I’ll always follow you.” A sob caught in my throat as I struggled for composure. “I love you so much, and I’m sorry for hurting you, but you should know how much it hurt me too. Leaving you like that…” Tears fell at the memory of Cain’s stricken features. “It was the single most painful and heart breaking moment in my life, and I never want either of us to feel that way again.”

He sprung on me like a lion might spring on its prey. One moment I’m standing in the doorway, trying to find the words that express how much he means to me, the next minute he’s before me, gripping the sides of my head, his lips on mine, a kiss consumed with furious desperation and need. When he finally stopped, he didn’t pull away. Instead our lips were separated by only a breath of air, his forehead resting hard against mine. His hands still clutched the sides of my head in a gentle, yet firm grip. Cain was shaking, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“No more tears, it breaks my heart. Just promise me you will never leave again, swear it again, right here, right now.”

I wrapped my fingers around his wrists and held him just as tight. “I promise I’ll never leave you again. I spent the better part of my life fighting for my sanity, and I swear I’ll spend the rest of my life fighting for you, for us.” His eyes fluttered shut, and he didn’t move away, he stood before me, holding me, absorbing my words.

“You don’t have to fight for me, baby. I’m yours, always have been and always will be.”

I didn’t move as my heart settled into the familiar rhythm it beat from simply being in Cain’s presence, my soul reconnecting with his, peace sinking back into my world once more.

Eventually Cain dragged me into the house; pressing me against the door he made love to me. It was fast, manic, and passionate, like he was reclaiming my body. I managed to pull myself away long enough to grab a glass of water before he took me again in the kitchen, a little slower this time, yet with no less passion. By the time we made it to the bedroom, only room in the house that had furniture, my legs were as weak as wet noodles, my body aching in a delicious kind of way, and my heart, mind, and body were beginning to take comfort in having Cain back in my life. Under the deep layers of hurt, confusion, pain, and loss that made up Violet Trivoli, there was a strong heart full of determination, love, and happiness, and I was going to fight every day to allow that light to shine through the shadowed layers. Cain was worth it, my dad was worth it, but most importantly, I had finally recognized that I was also worth it.

Some people measure their lives with moments. My life has been measured with birth and death, two births and eventually, there will be two deaths. My first birth was September 15th, 1986. Violet Trivoli born to Garret and Linda Trivoli, two people who lived and loved to extremes. It was my own life of extremes that ended my first life on New Year’s Day in 2013. My first death concluded a life lived in fear, fear of myself, fear of the truth, fear of love. My second birth was six days later, when I awoke to a new life, one with no less fear, but with much more courage. I guess sometimes it takes the brutal finality of death to become stronger and wiser. I was proud of my new life and had every intention of living it courageously until my final death, which would hopefully be many, many years from now.

My feet were tucked beneath me on the sofa, and I smiled as I watched Cain. He was lying on his stomach, across the rug in our furnished living room. His son—our son—lying on his back before him. He was stroking a long finger down Oliver’s face, coaxing his little eyes closed as they grew heavier and heavier. Oliver had just drifted off to sleep, having tuckered himself out with an energetic game of hit daddy on the head with his rattle as many times as he could. Oliver was the most perfect little blob, but as his other-mother, I was quite possibly a little bias. At six months old, he was growing just as he was supposed to, eating, smiling, laughing, and filling his diapers with the most disgraceful, foul smelling poop I had ever encountered. He also dropped off to sleep anywhere, and I mean, anywhere! Like on the floor in our living room only moments after beating his daddy senseless with his rattle. I loved watching Cain with his son. The love was an ever present glow that followed him around even on the days we weren’t with Oliver. The way he looked at the little bundle of life was like nothing I had ever seen, so intense and pure it filled my heart with joy just to witness. I had been sober going on eighteen months, and while I wished I could say the challenging moments were now behind me, it was still a battle that crept into my life, hitting me when I least expected it. The need and want for alcohol and drugs seemed to slumber quietly in hibernation, waiting for the day I wasn’t strong enough to fight the cravings. Hatred and inadequacy were difficult emotions to completely silence, and some days I struggled to ignore those voices. With Cain’s steadfast determination, and the help of my father and even Annabelle, I worked through the bad days. Annabelle had been right when she said the baby would be good for me. He really was a blessing that I never truly believed would help me through those difficult moments. The need to care and protect the innocent baby rose above all destructive urges, silently compelling me to do better, to be better. I was still worried I might one day hit the same wall my mother had. That one day I would wake up and miss the tumultuous days of my inebriated highs. I was terrified of following in her footsteps, but Dr. Brightman’s words remained steady in my mind:

“
You are not your mother, Violet. You are your own person with your own mind. You are strong and determined and free to make your own choices, and you can choose to be sober.”

Today, I chose to be sober, and I would fight to stay sober for all the days that followed.

I glanced down at the book I was reading; the male character was Italian. I smiled as thoughts of Peiro danced through my head. They weren’t sexual thoughts of longing or desire, it was simply an acknowledgement of friendship, a man who had touched my heart and helped it heal. I hadn’t heard from Peiro since the day I phoned him to admit I could never give myself to him the way he wanted. I often thought of him and wondered where he was and if he was happy. I guess if Cain’s interpretation of fate was correct, Peiro was on his own path that would eventually lead him to where he needed to be, and hopefully that was into the arms of someone who loves him for the caring, wonderful man he is. As my thoughts drifted over the past, present, and future, Cain carefully lifted a now sleeping Oliver and disappeared down the hall to his nursery. We’d been having him for sleepovers one night a week for a month now, and eventually that would increase to at least two nights a week. A shared agreement between me, Cain, Annabelle, and Toby, who Annabelle had moved in with last weekend. Toby was the perfect other-father and his daughter, Willow, was the most adorable other-sister. Yes, our family was unconventional, a hybrid Brady Bunch, but we wouldn’t have it any other way. It seemed we all eventually fell on our feet and into our own unique idea of perfection.

“Harry called. The studio has been booked for next week,” Cain said as he climbed onto the couch and pushed the discarded book in my lap aside.

We were recording our tenth album and spending far too much time in the studio, something we had sworn we would never do. Live performances were in our blood. We still did an overnight gig out of town once a month, and Harry had plans for a three week tour at the end of the year, but neither Cain nor I wanted to be far from Oliver for too long. So, that meant if we wanted to keep our music careers intact, we had to give some hardcore attention to recording and studio time.

Laying his head in my lap, Cain gave me a playful grin. “Wanna make out?”

I gave him a stern look. “This is a sex free zone until Annabelle picks up Oliver tomorrow afternoon, so, pop a cork in it, mister.”

Cain struggled not to laugh. “Popping a cork in it sounds painful, and I asked if you wanted to make out, not screw me senseless.”

I slapped his arm playfully. “Making out with you always leads to senseless screwing.”

Cain lifted himself out of my lap. “Baby, there ain’t nothing senseless about screwing you.” Well, that was sweet, sort of. “I want to give you something,” he whispered, his voice suddenly less playful. “I wanted to wait until the piano arrived, but it’s taking too long and I can’t wait.” Urgency laced his words. Cain had ordered a $37,000, Baldwin Concert Grand Piano that was apparently so impressive there was a four month wait before it would be delivered. I couldn’t imagine what could be so important it couldn’t wait a few more months, and more so, I couldn’t imagine why on earth he would need to wait for the piano to arrive to give it to me. God, I hoped he hadn’t ordered a matching piano for me to learn how to play in some crazy musical experiment like the guitars.