Forgive Me Father For I Have Loved (9 page)

Sometimes, she just didn’t want to be alone; it had nothing to do with heartbreak or love anymore. She wanted a warm body beside her, that was why she’d let him back, and when it was over, she didn’t mourn him or the relationship any longer, only the familiarity. At last though, she’d had enough. He was wearing on her, getting on her nerves. She’d thrust herself back into her exercise routine a few months after she gave him his
true
walking papers, and never looked back.

The park was an awesome escape, a healing zone. People watching was epic. Plentiful animals, wild and domestic, to observe during their daily routines, and the perfect scene to stretch and simply appreciate the new opportunities coming her way. Yeah, she was in a good place, but her voyeuristic nature compelled her—her biggest downfall. In her enjoyment of nosey surveillance, she’d make up stories in her head about what people were doing and thinking. She’d even make up songs, but the one about him was far more serious. She paused, singing the lyrics inside of her head...

Thaaaaman, doesn’t stand....he sits, bent like bows, under the tree limbs....

He flees inside himself, carrying a heeeeavy load,

The wind, will carry his sorrows away...on some empty road...

There was just one problem now. She didn’t want to guess anymore. She wanted to
really
know what his deal was. It was killing her. Her inquisitiveness was on a rampage, and somewhere deep within, she demanded answers. He appeared aloof, but not cold. His smile at times was warm, at other times, obviously manufactured as a simple courtesy. And good Lord, he was a handsome son of a gun—and conversant, from how she’d seen him interact with some people. She hated it. She prided herself on her memory, and something tugged at those strings, but she couldn’t figure out what.

Where do I know that face?

Rhapsody surmised he was about six-two, maybe six-three and definitely in good shape—not that that was important to her; not that she was looking for a boyfriend or anything, of course.

She smiled at her own thoughts.

His medium brown hair was streaked with highlights and went darker to a rich brown closer to his nape, blending into his short, almost black sideburns. Almost
too
perfect hair—unnerving, as if he had an expensive colorist taking care of those strands, and something mystical kept every strand in place, like the damned wind would go straight to hell if it dared to blow that coif out of place. Yet, it didn’t look hard or stiff, just obeyed his command. His light blue eyes popped against his tanned skin in a classically handsome face with a keen nose, fleshy lips that appeared soft, dark eyebrows and an undeniable boyish charm. She was certain he looked younger than he actually was. He had wisdom about him...

She’d occasionally watch him glide his fingers over his hair as he appeared to be in deep thought. She rose from the ground, huffed and gripped her water bottle. Removing the cap, she took a big chug, and smirked. He was staring at her now, and this time, he didn’t look away or offer a nod. He just...well, he just glared.

He might be a drunk...Nah, I doubt it. How would I know? But he is sneaking sips from a damn liquor bottle. What’s wrong with him? Hmmm... It’s none of my business, I don’t know him ... or do I?

She grinned mischievously.

I’m a little tired today, but I did think of you inappropriately...well hell, I’m only human.

She gave free rein to the thoughts in her head, let them roam freely, and relished in her silliness.

Why do you keep coming to this park, sitting in that same spot, looking the same way? Why do you smile at me more times than not? If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were looking for me... It could be just wishful thinking...That’s just what I need, to get a crush on an unemployed drunk...

She turned away from him and returned to the grass, stretching her arms high above her head. She closed her eyes, mediating, enjoying the sounds of the water and people going past. In her mind, it was just her, all by her lonesome. Today was her ‘staycation’ that she’d promised herself. She planned the type of dinner she’d make that evening, and what she’d watch on television, and the new song she’d practice...and the calls she needed to make...oh yes, and the emails!
Don’t forget the emails...

But then, he touched her...

Before she even had the chance to fix her face and look casually over her shoulder, she felt his fingertips run smoothly across her shoulder blade. She knew it was him before she even looked up, and their eyes met. She squinted in the sunlight, and used her hand as a visor. He stood there for a moment, looking down at her, smiling so beautifully. She offered her own smile, hoping it wasn’t too big or too small. No, this needed to be like Goldilocks...fit just right.

“Hi.” He grinned. “I come here all the time and I see you,” he shrugged, “and it’s just rude for me to not say anything. I also have a confession, but before I get into that, I want you to know that the goofy guy that sits on that bench,” he pointed to the area behind him, causing her to lightly laugh, “is named Dane Caruso.”

The breeze caught his scent, and she got to know him even better.

He smells like laundry soap, fresh dry cleaning and incense...

“Well, it is nice to meet you, Dane Caruso.” She extended her hand upward, feeling the warmth of his palm as he wrapped his hand gently around hers. They held each other’s gaze, and she wasn’t for certain what to make of it. Up closer now, she could see amazing details in his features—a small beauty mark by his earlobe, a probable chicken pock scar near his clean shaven chin, bringing more attention to the slight cleft... She found clefts sexy, reminded her of Superman. Upon even closer inspection, she saw a small hole in his earlobe, must’ve been the remnants of a piercing. He bent a little lower, as if he were trying to figure out something, read her mind. This brought her attention to his unbelievably thick, dark brown lashes that curled at the ends, almost as if they’d been dipped in mascara.

The man is not just good-looking, he is kinda pretty...
Unsettling.

Before she could ask the question, he did it for her. “You look familiar.” He smiled. “That’s not a line, I’m serious. May I ask what your name is?”

“My name is Rhapsody Blue.”

His brows furrowed and he looked confused. Then, his expression eased and he grinned. “What high school did you go to?”

“Stevenson High, home of the Spartans!” she said with pride.

Dane shook his finger at her. “That’s where I’ve seen you before! What year did you graduate?”

“Class of 2002,” she offered, slightly unnerved that she didn’t remember him from there. She thought it may have been from a dream or just out and about.

“Okay, I was 1999; you were a freshman when I was a senior more than likely. Big school, but I knew you looked familiar.” His eyes hooded. “Rhapsody Blue, huh? Interesting name.”

A pause.

“I would love to hear this confession of yours,” she said.

He helped her to her feet. After patting off the grass from her knees and calves, she stood straight and crossed her arms. She was prepared to hear his pick-up line, to render it silly and meaningless, but give him a C for effort. Yes, he was pre-graded.

“My confession is.” He clasped his hands together and gave her a lopsided smile. That mischievous expression she’d seen a time or two flashed across his face, but only for a moment. “I eavesdropped on you. I heard you singing one day here and you have a beautiful voice.”

Taken off guard, Rhapsody hesitated. She did hum and sing words from time to time, but she didn’t remember seeing him during her park concerts and serenades.

“Well, thank you.”

As he slid his left hand into his jean pocket, the wedding band glimmered and she winced. But hey, the man hadn’t asked her out, or done anything inappropriate...
yet.

Settle down. No need to jump on his case but what a damn bummer. Married...

“It was a couple weeks ago or so.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t know the name of the song. I just heard you singing, well, humming, then you sang. It was raining...”

“You were there? Did you have your head covered with a hood, possibly?”

“Yeah,” he answered sheepishly, “I’m not a stalker or anything.” He laughed lightly as he rocked back on his heels. She enjoyed watching him squirm. She remained silent, stretching it out.

I may as well get something out of this. He is already taken. At least a laugh can be enjoyed.

“Um, well.” He looked around, looking embarrassed.

Okay, I’ll be nice.

“Thank you so much, I love to sing. I’m a singer actually, and I teach the piano.”

He smiled.” Wow, like, at a school? Elementary or high school?”

“No, I actually teach at Davenport University, part time. I give singing lessons, too...and do vocal coaching...and do gigs all over the country.”

“Well, that explains it!” He laughed, showcasing nice, natural white teeth. “I know how to play the piano, but it’s like ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb’ level.”

She burst out laughing.

I’m sure it isn’t that bad.

“I won’t keep you, but I keep seeing you and, well, I thought it was time that I say hello and introduce myself. Now I know we are alumni from the same alma mater. I almost feel like I know you at this point.” He extended his hand and shook hers gently, lingering a wee bit too long. She pulled back, feeling uncomfortable.

“Well, it was nice to meet you. See you again, Mr. Caruso.” She forced a smile before turning away, her signal that he was now free to leave.

Mr. Married Man, flirting like the asshole that you are. I wonder how your wife would feel about this. What nerve, I gave you a chance...holding my hand like that...looking at me like that. I am so glad I am done with dating right now, anyway. Men! I swear. This is another example as to why!

She rolled her eyes.

“You can just call me Dane, or if you insist on being formal,” she shot him a look from over her shoulder, her lips twisted in a frown—warning him ever so subtly to be on his way, “Fr. Caruso will suffice.”

Then he backed away from her with a wave and disappeared toward the walking trail, leaving her blushing, embarrassed and soon after, laughing out loud at her own misguided assumptions...

~***~

“So how much is left?” Daisy pushed her hands into Dane’s chest, shoving him against the kitchen counter. “I wouldn’t ask if we didn’t need it, Dane. I mean, that was a lot of money...surely the church and you didn’t burn through it that fast.”

Dane walked around her and entered their parents’ dining room. He looked down at the neatly laid flatware and the matching tumbler glasses. Mom was always so particular about the settings. The smell of baked chicken permeated the house, making his stomach loop with hunger pains. Daisy gently grabbed his arm, throwing a faux grin at him like beads during Mardi Gras...only he wasn’t catching.

“I have put the money away, Daisy and will distribute it as needed. I have no idea how you and your husband could burn through twenty thousand dollars in this short period of time but I am not giving you another red cent right now.”

He jerked away from her, leaving her seething, he was certain. He’d heard her urgent voicemails over the past few days. She’d even put their father up to calling a couple of times and he knew what had happened. She’d given her husband most of the money, and he’d gambled it away. Dane was rather surprised as he hadn’t realized that Rob’s gambling problem was this extensive, but it all made sense now—the second and third mortgages on their home, the repairs not being done. Of course, he’d been laid off and out of work for a few weeks, taking handy-man employment, but even before that, financial trouble had brewed and Daisy was a sucker for the man. He was a charming liar, shiftless and lazy, and this was the final straw. Dane turned to tell Daisy a thing or two but caught himself...

Who am I to judge that man when I’ve sunken to an all-time low?

He’d been drinking again, nipping here and there, but making sure to never get intoxicated. He even made excuses for the behavior, just like in years past. What started the whole tangled, dirty ball of dependency rolling again was when Josh had told him he had cancer. Dane hadn’t touched a bottle in years. Even when offered beer at the festivals, he always declined, though at times, it had been tempting. This last event, however, had sent him over the edge and he was having a hell of a time controlling it. The first time this happened, he’d got off the sauce cold turkey. Other types of liquor were much easier to get away from because he didn’t like them as much, and they didn’t give him the feeling he was looking for.

Back in college, he’d first started to try and cope...and then he started liking it,
really
liking it. It got to the point that he’d wake up thinking about it. The drinking replaced football, his girlfriend and even, to some degree, Josh. It definitely replaced family—he’d retreat, withdraw and alienate.

Now he needed to stop again—he could do it. He needed to get dry and he had to address it as soon as possible before it got further out of control.

“Look, Daisy.” He sighed. “I know you love Rob, I understand that, but can’t you see what’s happened here? If you need any more money, Rob first needs to get some help for his gambling addiction, and then, and
only
then, we can talk about money.”