Damaged But Not Broken (New Adult Rockers) (3 page)

I realize that my thoughts are
turning too dark and I try to practice what my therapist has taught me. I take
deep breaths, re-direct my thinking and envision something that makes me happy.
I remind myself of all the ways that I am brave, and I tell myself that I am no
longer a victim.

Sometimes it all feels like a bunch
of crap.

When redirecting my thoughts doesn’t
work, I opt for a glass of wine instead. I can thank my father again for my
need to watch my drinking. I know that I have addict blood in me. I’ve always
been very careful to only have a drink or two at a time and usually the thought
of turning into my father is sobering enough.

I won’t ever let myself get like
him, but I still know that possibility is a there, a cancer waiting to grow
inside me.

Luckily, my crappy mood is gone
when I wake up the next day, and I have the entire day to myself before I’m
scheduled to play a set at High Notes, a big music bar in Bristol.

~~~

Hours later, I walk into High
Notes, dressed in my favorite pair of blue jeans and a silky purple top. My
blonde hair is smooth and styled to perfection and I feel great. The regulars
are happy to see me and I tell myself that this is all I need. People that come
out to see me, willing to pay to watch me play and possibly buy a CD if I make
one myself.

Who am I kidding?

At nine o’clock, I step out to take
my place, alone with my guitar. Sometimes I get a few guys to play back up for
me, but tonight it’s just the guitar and me.

I always liked music as a kid, and
I knew that my dad helped others make music. But it wasn’t until I returned to
Bristol for good, that I really began to fall in love with music. It’s hard to
explain, but it helped fix what had broken inside me. I taught myself acoustic
guitar, and I discovered that I could sing.

So naturally I threw myself into my
music; I don’t remember much of my junior or senior year in high school because
I was so focused on honing my talent.

Music gave me something to focus on,
something I could control, it gave me a voice again, and it helped me forget
about Blake.

Well, I never really forgot about
Blake but it helped ease my heartbreak. I’ve learned that some things are just
too painful to revisit and are better left in the past.

I didn’t date for the rest of high
school, I was too afraid to have anyone touch me. Just the thought of it made
my heart race and my palms sweat. I managed to have a boyfriend or two in
college, but I could only become physical if I had been drinking. It’s no
surprise those relationships didn’t work out.

As I settle into my stool and play
a few chords, I shake out my head to clear it. I’ve come a long way and I’m not
going to sink back into thoughts of things that happened thirteen years ago.

I take a deep breath, and start my
song, letting the music pour out of me. My hands know to play the right notes,
and I close my eyes as my voice fills the room. I don’t open them until I’m
halfway through the song, and what I see nearly stops me cold.

There, three rows back and dead
center, sits my father. It’s like seeing a ghost and it takes every ounce of me
to not grab the sides of the stool for support. I somehow manage to compose
myself enough to get through my set. No one in the audience would have known
about the emotional turmoil going on inside my head.

I smile and bow, grinning as I wave
at the audience, and walk offstage on wooden legs. I slip into one of the back
rooms to stow my guitar, and my hands are shaking as I gulp down an entire
bottle of water.

“Paige, is everything okay?” Mikey,
one of the bartenders asks.

“Oh, sure, I’m fine,” I lie, as I
take much longer than necessary packing up my few small belongings.

“Oh okay. Well, you sounded amazing
like always.”

I smile and thank him. Mikey is
nice and I’m sure he wishes we were more than friends. He’s always eager to
help me, and giving me a drink and telling me how great I’m doing.

One time he had too many drinks
after his shift and asked me why I don’t date anyone. I was vague, and he got
this sweet puppy-dog look in his eyes and promised that he would take good care
of me and treat me right. Sometimes I wish that I wasn’t broken inside, that I
was able to give nice guys like Mikey a chance.

I take my guitar and try to
mentally prepare myself before I walk out into the bar. Sure enough, there’s my
dad waiting by the door. Even after all these years he knows me well. He knows
that I would head straight for that door, not caring about him sitting in the
audience.

I walk mechanically across the room
and his eyes catch mine. While it’s my dad for sure, he looks different. Older
of course, but haggard. The years have not been kind to him. You can still tell
he’s handsome in a rugged kind of way, but not the kind of handsome he was back
when he was married to my mom.

“Paige,” he whispers as I approach.
Now it’s his turn to look like he’s seen a ghost.

“What are you doing here?” I
demand. I can’t hide the hostility or the coldness in my voice.

“I had to see you. You’re Momma has
told me for years that you play music and I just had to see it for myself. I miss
you so much, honey.” He chokes on the last word.

This is pure hell, his voice evokes
all kinds of childhood memories, and part of me wants to throw myself in his
arms again and be Daddy’s Little Girl once more, but there’s another part of
me, a harder part, that wants to vomit at his feet.

“You shouldn’t have come here.” I
say, standing my ground.

“Please, honey. I had no idea you
could sing like that, no idea you could play. To think that my little girl has
that kind of talent inside her,” he doesn’t finish his thought, but only shakes
his head in wonder.

“I’ve got to go, Dad,” the word
feels foreign on my tongue, “it’s been a long day and I have an early shift
tomorrow.”

My dad looks wounded. “You used to
call me Daddy,” he says softly.

“Yeah, well that was before my
innocence was ripped away,” I spit back.

He recoils as if I slapped him, but
the words are out and I’m not taking them back.

“Paige,” he pleads, his voice gruff
with emotion. “There aren’t words for me to convey how I felt about what happened,
how I
still
feel about what happened. Those demons will never let me go
and I pay everyday for what my drinking did to you that night. I let my little
girl down.”

“Don’t,” I warn him, I can’t take
much more. It’s too much to stand here and talk to my dad about what happened
at his house that summer.

“Please, Paige. I would do anything
to make it up to you. I want a relationship with my baby girl. Can’t you find
it in your heart to let me back in your life? I’m not asking for forgiveness.
The Lord knows I don’t deserve it, but I can’t lose you forever. I’ve already
lost so much time with you.”

“I can’t do this now,” I say, my
voice breaking.

“Please, talk to me honey.” But my
dad can see he’s losing me. “I’m going to stay in town another night. How about
you come by my hotel when you’re finished working tomorrow? Please. We can
talk.” He pauses when I don’t respond. “I’m staying at the Hampton Inn. Room
413.”

“We’ll see,” I say and before he
can say anymore, I push past him and step into the warm air outside.

It’s summer. I wonder if I could
ever return to Nashville, especially in the summer.

~~~

I don’t get much sleep because I’m
too busy tossing and turning and thinking about my father showing up in
Bristol. I show up at the coffee shop with dark circles under my eyes, but
Lily, my co-worker is smart enough not to say anything.

I would almost call her my friend,
but I don’t think I can. I think you’re supposed to hang out with friends
outside the workplace and I’ve never done that with Lily. I shouldn’t be
surprised, because I haven’t ever managed to keep any friends.

I considered calling my mom to ask
her advice about what to do with my father, but I know what she would say. She
would tell me to go see him, to give him the benefit of the doubt.

My mom’s daddy died when she was a
little girl so I know she always felt like she had missed out on something
special. I think that’s the only reason she has tolerated my dad after what
happened to me. She didn’t want me to lose him forever.

As my shift comes to a close, I’m
still hemming and hawing about what to do. I think this is one of those pivotal
moments in my life and I’m scared as hell. I feel like I spend so much time
being scared and I’m so damn sick of it.

There, that's it, I've made up my
mind. I’m tired of being scared, tired of fearing everything, tired of nothing
happening to me in this damn town. Before I lose my courage, I head over to the
Hampton Inn and find myself knocking on room 413.

“You came,” my dad says when he
opens the door. He looks genuinely shocked and I almost feel guilty.

I don’t say anything and walk into
the room. My dad guides me to a small table with two chairs and motions for me
to sit down. He walks over to a mini-fridge and pulls out two bottles of root
beer.

My favorite.

Or what used to be my favorite.
When I was fifteen.

“Thank you for coming. Thank you so
much Paige.”

“I’m not really sure what I’m doing
here." I admit. "I’m not sure what you’re doing here either.”

My dad takes a deep breath and a
big swig of his root beer.

“I need you to hear me out Paige,
and I need you to not interrupt me. Can you do that?”

I think for a few seconds, and
decide that I’ll try. I nod.

“Okay, good. Thank you. You see, I
know these past thirteen years have been hell for you. I can’t even imagine.
And I would never, ever compare my pain to yours, because I know that your pain
is far worse. But I’ve been in hell too.

After that night, after what
happened
,
I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t function. All I wanted to do was go after
Billy and Riff and tear them into fucking pieces. I wanted to strangle them, to
punish them, to make them suffer a million times what you endured.” My dad’s
voice breaks and he takes a few seconds to compose himself.

“I knew I should get sober, I knew
that should have been a wakeup call, but I couldn’t because I lost you and you
were the best thing that ever happened to me. So instead of fighting back, I
took the cowardly way out. I drank and I drank until I couldn’t even function.
I went into debt and my record label all but sank. It was a dark, dark time.”

I try to picture my dad getting
even drunker than what I remembered as a kid. It’s painful to think about.

“And then three years ago I hit
rock bottom. Your momma has always been good to me, better than I ever
deserved. I think she feels sorry for me. She knew how hard it was for me, but
she was wise enough not to push your relationship with me. She knew I was facing
bankruptcy and eviction.

My girlfriend at the time, a nice
sweet woman, had finally gotten sick of my shit and she left me too. Your momma
told me that I was about to lose it all. I thought I had lost everything, but
your momma was right – I still had more to lose. And so slowly, and piece by
piece, I began putting my life right side up again.

I stopped drinking. Just quit cold
turkey. I had to detox but after a week or so I was clean. And once I was
sober, I was actually able to focus on my business, and boy, was it hurting. It
was amazing how much I could accomplish when I wasn’t drunk. I sold a lot of my
stuff to pay my debts. I sold our house and bought something modest and small.

I slowly started signing more
names, and soon the label was growing again. I went to AA meetings every week.
And all that while, the whole damn time, I kept thinking that I was going to
get you back again. That I was going to fix my life so you could see that I
loved you.”

My dad stops talking and I see his
eyes are glistening with tears. It’s too emotional, and I have to duck my head...I’ve
missed my daddy and my heart hurts from hearing him talk, but I don't want him
to see that.

“So, Paige, I’m begging you. Let me
help you. Come back to Nashville and I will put you in touch with every contact
I can. I’ll sign you to my label, and not just because you’re my daughter, but
also because you can sing, honey! And not only that, but I want you to come
back so we can try again. So we can heal our relationship and move past our
demons.”

I want to be angry, I want to yell
at my dad and curse and blame him for everything that happened to me. I had my
whole life ahead of me at fifteen and then just like that, it was taken from
me.

Those animals that my dad had
called his friends had taken more from me than just my innocence, my happiness,
my trust in other people; they had taken my life – the life I was supposed to
have had.

“I don’t know,” I whisper. It’s so
much information, so much to take in. “You’ve been sober for three years?”

“Yes. Three years.”

I try to imagine my dad sober and I
can’t because my whole life he was a drinker. Even when he was sweet and
loving, I always remember him having a beer in his hand, or hearing the sound
of him cracking open a cold one.

“I want to,” I admit, “I want to
make music and I want to have a real career. But I’m scared of going back to Nashville.
I don’t know if I can face everything again. I don’t know how to rebuild a
relationship with you.”

“It won’t be easy at first, I know
it won’t,” my dad says quickly. “But we can take it one step at a time.
Together.”

I take a shaky breath. It’s not
that I’m afraid of Billy and Riff. They’re in prison and they aren’t getting
out anytime soon. It’s just that Nashville is haunted for me. It’s filled with
ghosts and faces from my past. Even thinking of the bright blue summer days
hurts because I remember my life
before
.