White Trash Beautiful
Page 22

I thought back to when my mother used to do hair in our home. Back when my father still lived with us. I’d never realized her addiction spanned so much of my life. I reached over to her and clutched her hand in mine, encouraging her to continue.
“I began using . . .”
“Continue, Anne. We’re all here for you.”
She nodded and wiped her nose. “I began using heroin with Jackson, my daughter’s boyfriend.” The floodgates opened and she sobbed uncontrollably.
The man turned his attention to me. “Did you know?”
“I caught them using together. They were so messed up they didn’t even know who I was.”
“That wasn’t the first time, Cass,” my mother confessed.
As we left, I realized that the meeting had gone surprisingly well. My mother spoke but didn’t open up as much as I’d hoped. Still, for her first meeting, it was amazing progress. I kept telling myself that the most important thing was that I’d gotten her there. She cried a little and I did, too, but mostly out of relief. It felt once again as if things were going to get better.
Eventually, we would be able to build on our relationship. I wanted that more than anything else. After cashing my paycheck, we stopped by the store and loaded up on hard candy to help her with her cravings.
The man running the meeting had pulled me aside and let me know things were going to get a lot worse before they got better. My mom would be craving an escape hard, and she might take out her frustrations on those closest to her. I guess that included me. I didn’t care. I could get through anything if it meant she would be better.
We walked slowly back to the house, taking in the breeze from the pending storm. The hurricane had veered off course and would be going into the Gulf. We would still get a few strong showers from the outer bands, but that was nothing to worry about. The real worry was the new hurricane forming out in the middle of the ocean. Still, it wasn’t something to think about for a while.
“Tell me more about this boy.” Mom shot me a smile as she sucked on a strawberry lollipop.
“He’s just a boy.” I popped a piece of candy into my mouth.
“You wouldn’t have mentioned him if he didn’t mean something to you.”
Her questions were making me nervous. If Jax ever found out about Tucker, I would regret it.
“Anything you tell me will stay between us, Cass. I know how Jax is.”
“I met him in the diner. He’s gorgeous . . . and doesn’t bat an eye at my attitude.”
We both laughed.
“So, where is this Prince Charming?” She grinned.
I rolled my eyes at her choice of words. “Gone.” I kicked at the dirt on the ground as we made our way into the diner parking lot.
She didn’t ask where or why he had gone. She didn’t need to. We didn’t say anything else on the subject.
We repeated this routine over the next eight weeks. Mom slowly forced me to open up to her about Tucker, and she listened attentively, offering no advice but no judgments either. I stuck by her side and made sure she kept herself sober. It was no easy feat.
Jackson was far from clean and sober. I had started saving again, and my bear was finally starting to fill out a little more in the midsection. Things were looking up. I continued to text with Tucker and sneak secret phone calls whenever his schedule allowed. I tried to ignore his calls, but a part of me still believed in us somehow. He needed to know I was okay, so I continued to talk with him every day, even if I knew it was going to make things harder on us. Last I heard he was in Pennsylvania, performing at the York Fairgrounds. I tried to distance myself from him as much as possible, but my heart refused to let him go. I would have to deal with this later. One puzzle piece at a time.
“You work today, Cass?” Mom was gathering laundry to take to the Laundromat.
I looked up at her and smiled. It was nice to see her getting out on her own. She was far from healed, but she was making progress, and I couldn’t be more proud.
“I’m leaving in a few minutes.” I grabbed a piece of her sober candy from the dish on the counter and popped it in my mouth. I think I was becoming addicted to sugar. A small price to pay to keep her healthy.
“I’ll see you later then.” She smiled as I made my way out the door.
I snuck into my room and checked the messages on my phone.
I need to talk to you. —Tuck
I slid the phone into my pocket and headed outside.
Jackson didn’t even acknowledge my leaving. He was too engrossed in the news. The last hurricane heading our way had fizzled out as it ran up the length of Florida. By the time it hit us, it was a weak tropical depression. Nothing to sneeze at. Now there was another and everyone was up in arms about it. I wasn’t worried. If it was coming, we could do nothing to stop it. We couldn’t afford to evacuate.
I slipped behind the trailer and dialed Tucker’s number. My stomach did flips as it rang.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
“Tucker . . .”
“I know. You’re not my sweetheart.” He sighed heavily into the phone.
“How’s Pennsylvania?” My eyes scanned the trailers around us as I made sure no one was watching me.
“We’re in New York now. Got in at about midnight yesterday. You wouldn’t believe how chilly it gets here. Be nice to have someone to snuggle up to at night.”
My heart sank into the pit of my stomach.
“I saw the storm is gonna miss you. I was worried.”
“The weather has been crazy though. I think I caught something.” I placed my hand over my stomach.
“You all right?”
“I’ll live.” I sighed. “Just a stomach flu.”
“You haven’t been well for weeks. You should see someone. I wish I was there to take care of you.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Clearly . . . Shit, Cass. I have to go. We need to get on the road.”
“All right.” I tried not to let my sadness show.
“See you later, sweetheart.”
“Bye.” I tucked my phone into my apron and quickly made my way around the trailer.
My stomach growled as I crossed the parking lot, and I hoped Larry was in a kind mood and had prepared us breakfast. I hated to have to pay for it. I needed to save as much as possible.
“Hey, Larry,” I called through the diner as I made my way to the pan of clean silverware.
Larry popped his head out of the kitchen door and held up his spatula. “About time,” he called, and slipped back inside his little room.
“I’m not late,” I called after him.
He reappeared with two plates of breakfast he had waiting for us. I smiled at him and made my way to our booth.
“You used to come in early. I miss the free labor.”
I laughed and shot him a playful glare.
Larry no longer seemed like the bitter and mean old man he had been before. He had a tough life and dealt with it much the same as I did. We weren’t all that different.
We ate in silence, and for once I cleaned my plate. Life wasn’t all that bad. Sure, I still had to help Jax out with his addiction, but even he seemed to be doing better these days. We hadn’t had any major fights in weeks, though the stress of taking care of all three of us was still taking a toll on my body—I was more exhausted than ever.
When I came back from the kitchen, Larry was still sitting in the booth, staring out the dirty window. “Everything okay?” He never spent more time than necessary outside the kitchen. He waved his hand to dismiss my question, but I could tell he had something on his mind. “What is it?” I slid into the booth and propped my head on my hands.
“You’re a good kid, Cass. You used to have such a chip on your shoulder, and with your life no one blamed you. You’ve changed a lot, and Aggie and I are proud of you.” He pushed himself from the bench and walked to the kitchen, leaving me sitting with my jaw hanging open.
That was the nicest thing Larry had ever said to me. My eyes welled up with tears. Happy tears. Why was I such an emotional wreck lately? It didn’t seem to matter what my mood was, I was always crying over something. My shift flew by and I found myself being more understanding and patient with the customers. It was amazing how a little kindness changed your perspective on life. And as I attended more meetings with Mom, I realized that they were helping me let go of a lot of my anger. I was beginning to understand why I was the way I was.
After work, I met my mother in the parking lot and we headed off to the old church. The meeting was crowded as usual, and all there had a chance to introduce themselves and tell their story.
“Would you like a chance to speak?” the man directly across from me in the circle of chairs asked as he adjusted his glasses.
“Oh, no. I’m just here for my mom.” I looked down at my hands, wishing the room would swallow me whole. I hated speaking in public, especially about something so personal.
“There’s no judging here.” The entire room was focused on me now.
“My name’s Cass. My mom and my boyfriend are addicts.” The room collectively responded by saying hello. I laughed nervously as I focused on my fingernails.
“Your boyfriend is an addict? Why do you think that is?”
What an odd question. I’d never tried to make sense of it. Things are the way they are. “Um . . . well, I guess a lot of bad things had happened. Sometimes you can’t always make things better, ya know? Sometimes people look for things to fix their feelings.”
“That’s good, Cass. But I was wondering why you think you sought out another addict to be your companion in life?”
“Oh . . . uhh . . . He found me really. He stood up for me, always kind of protected me.”
“But when the drug abuse began? You didn’t think it would be better to distance yourself from him? To protect yourself from him?”
“Jackson never left me. I wouldn’t do that to him.”
“Interesting. I had assumed you found comfort with another addict because of your mother. I’m not so sure that is the case. Cass, where is your father in this picture?”
“He left when I was little.” I felt my face turn red as everything clicked into place. Jax took the place my father abandoned. It never mattered if Jax was the right guy for me, he was filling a void in my heart.
—
The next day at work, my mind drifted from thoughts of my father, to Jax, and—as much as I tried to block them out—to thoughts of Tucker. My apron pocket vibrated and I jumped from my seat and made my way to the restroom to check my messages.
I miss you. —Tuck
I miss you, too. I clicked SEND and waited for another message.
It felt good to hear your voice today. —Tuck
Don’t do this, Tucker.
We are coming to S. Carolina. I’ll be there late tonight. —Tuck
My heart raced as I read his message. He was coming back. Suddenly, the thought of pushing him away seemed impossible. Every bone in my body craved him.
Really???
I wasn’t sure if I should tell you. I don’t know if I could handle being so close and not seeing you.
My stomach was now doing flips and I felt as if I were going to be sick. We’d pressed our luck before, and we might not be as lucky as we were in the past. It wasn’t fair. I wanted to see him more than anything else, but I couldn’t. It wouldn’t be fair to Jax.
I can’t.
Are you all right? Did something happen?
No, I’m fine. Really. Please don’t worry.
It’s impossible not to worry when I have no way to see you.
I’m sorry, Tucker.
I shoved my phone back in my apron and left the bathroom. I felt the familiar vibration of the phone but forced myself to ignore it. I finished my shift as if nothing were bothering me. I was good at pretending. By the time it was over, I wanted to run home and prove myself right. Jax was getting better. Life was getting better.
As soon as I was in the comfort of my own room, I changed out of my work clothes and slipped on something more comfortable. I felt physically ill when I checked the messages on my phone.
Please. I need to see you. —Tuck
Cass, please don’t do this to me. —Tuck
I’ll be staying at the Marriott on Hilton Head Island. —Tuck
I put the phone into my closet without responding. Tucker didn’t deserve this. I should have told him weeks ago I couldn’t speak to him anymore. As much as he said he cared about me, I always knew we could never be anything serious. He was a rock star. He deserved better. I curled up in a ball on my bed and forced myself to sleep.
I didn’t dream of Tucker. I almost never dreamed at all anymore. I knew I would never get what I wanted, but I was making the best of what I had. It was all I could do.
When I got up the next morning, I pushed myself to my feet and made my way to the kitchen to make some coffee.
I jumped as Jax’s fingertips slid against my spine. I hadn’t even heard him come up behind me.
“You okay?” He leaned over my shoulder.
I shook my head. “I just don’t feel well.” I turned on the water and began to wash out a few bowls.
He leaned back against the counter. “Maybe you should take the day off. You work constantly. You could use a break.”
I stopped what I was doing and looked at him. He was being sincere and thoughtful. I hated myself for moping over Tucker. Grabbing the dish towel, I dried off the bowls. “You’re right. I should just stay home. We could do something fun. Go for a picnic?”
“Yeah, I mean, whatever you want to do.” He ran his hands over his face and he pushed off the counter.
I begged my tears not to fall. This was what I had always wanted. The old Jax. He was finally coming around.