Lonesome Beds and Bumpy Roads (Beds #3) (8 page)

He laughs, causing lines to form around his eyes. “No, there was a lot of that, but there was also a lot of sober fun too. Did you know your Mom was voted Most Likely To Be Famous senior year?”

“No.”

“She owned that title, breaking out into song in the hallways, putting on impromptu acts right here at Skippy Lee’s. She was the star in the school play. I remember sitting in her bedroom while she rehearsed her scenes. I was so amazed by her. I swear every second I fell more and more in love with her.” His words break off, emotion clouds his eyes. After a moment he smirks. “She was so damn talented”

“I had no idea.”

“I always thought she’d be the one to leave me. Jump ship and head off to Hollywood.” He shakes his head and continues. “There was this one time we went out to dinner at this really fancy restaurant a few towns over. I told her they wouldn’t even let us in the door, but she put on one of her acts and by the end of the night she had everyone thinking she was this up and coming actress that they needed to look out for because she just filmed a new Blockbuster and she was going to be huge.”

The stories didn’t end there. They went on and on, and despite my hesitation, I listened to each one. It was as if for the first time in my entire life I was finally getting to know who my mom really was.

Before I knew it the sun set and it was well into the night. I pull into the hotel Dad’s staying at and put the car in park.

“Thanks for the ride.” He goes to get out of the car then stops, looking back at me. “I wish you knew the Ruth Murray I did. The Ruth Murray I knew always wanted a baby girl. Even if she didn’t get everything in life she wanted, she got you.”

His words hit me like a brick wall and I swallow down the lump that forms. I almost tell him thank you. But my voice never makes an appearance.

His lips twitch into a hopeless smile, and then he shuts the door and walks away.

All the stories from earlier swirl around in my head, but what keeps sticking out the most is his comparison of him and mom to me and Ryan. I still refuse to believe it. Even after the way he spoke with admiration and love in his eyes, amusement and joy, I couldn’t get past the fact that it was only for the memories. They didn’t have that anymore, hadn’t in years, and to think Ryan and I would someday become a fading memory of stories of yore scared the hell out of me.

I get home, hoping he’d already be waiting for me in my bed, but when I open the door, my bed is lumpless. I send him a text.

Lexie: Could use that snuggle time right about now.

A few minutes go by and no response. Ryan always answers me. I text again.

Lexie: Where are you?

I go and grab a bottle of water, and when I come back I check my phone, but still no response.
Life was just different.
Dad’s words haunt me, but I push them far away.

Lexie: Sweet dreams.

My phone falls to my comforter and I get up to change into pj’s. I go check all of Mom’s hiding places and come up empty. There’s a note on the table that she took another shift at work and will be late.

I go back to my room and climb into bed. It feels cold and lonely. I toss and turn, but no matter what position I wind up in, it’s not right. My body, heart, and mind want Ryan. I pull my comforter back and grab my extra pillows placing them in Ryan’s spot. It might not be him, but maybe I can convince myself he’s here and everything is exactly the same.

I crouch near Lex’s window, morning dew soaking up my sneakers as I tap on the glass. It’s about five-thirty in the morning on a Saturday, but I’m still looking over my shoulder to be sure there aren’t any worried neighbors about to call the cops.

I got her text not thirty minutes ago. Damn my exhaustion. I could’ve spent all night instead of just the butt end of it.

She doesn’t stir from her bed, and I squint and press my face against the window. Someone’s in there with her. Snuggling. What the blazing hell is this?

I test out the lock on the window, and it doesn’t budge. Great. The night she actually listens to me about locking up is the night she’s sleeping with some massive person. Or a bear.

I tap on the window again, harder this time, enough to get her leg to twitch. The other lump doesn’t move at all.

“Damn it,” I mutter, and now I’m full-out banging on the glass, shaking it until Lex’s mom swings open her door, armed with a ten-pound bag of potatoes. I immediately stop rocking the house, catch Lex rubbing her eyes open, and wave apologetically at Ms. Boggs. She drops the potatoes and motions for me to come to the front door. So much for sneaking in.

“The bedroom door stays open,” she says, pushing back a laugh as I step inside. At least she’s letting me in. If it were two weeks ago she probably would’ve swung those potatoes at my face.

It’s good to see her being a parent, though. Away from liquor.

It smells like morning, like toast and coffee, and Lex steps from her room, leaning against the frame and covering a yawn.

“Good morning.”

“Who’s in your bed?” I blurt, losing all tact because I’m already feeling guilty for ditching her last night and I’m running off little sleep so my mouth and brain are working in different time zones.

“Um… no one.” She laughs at me while her mom peeks into her room.

“I saw someone in there.” I accuse, pointing over her shoulder. I know I look nuts. I know I’m the one who just tried to break into their house. But I am way too tired to give a shit.

“Now who’s worried about someone’s fidelity?” She keeps laughing a very tired laugh that’s still unbelievably cute.

“You joking around with me?”

Lex crosses the room, takes me by the wrist, and drags me to her bed. The giant human lump is just a couple of pillows, the top one wearing my hoodie.

“I needed a snuggle last night. Pillowman was my second-best option.”

I groan, falling face-first into the lumpy pillows. I hear Lex’s mom laugh in the kitchen. “Damn, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” She sits next to my head and starts running her girly green nails through my hair. I used to call that my “off button” mainly because whenever she started rubbing my head my brain would retreat to lala land. But with her nails lightly scratching and soothing my overtired body, I’m thinking it’s more like an “on button.”

“So, why’re you here at the buttcrack of dawn?”

“Wanted to see you.” I turn out of the pillows. “Go for a walk. Get breakfast. Lie in bed and do nothing. I don’t care.”

“How long do we have this time?”

“My shift starts at eight.”

She sighs, fingers still tangling around in my hair, and right now I really wish I could fast forward three months so we wouldn’t have to keep the door open or risk getting beaten with a bible. Fast forward to when we’ll see each other in almost every spare moment we have. And I open my mouth to ask her the thing I’ve been hoping to ask for about a month now, but I force myself to keep it in. I’ve planned the question out perfectly and I’m not ruining it because I’m impatient.

“Will holding hands in the car while you drive around be okay?” she asks. I nod underneath her hand. “I’m warning you, though, I may fall asleep.”

“No deal. You have to keep me from dozing.”

“I’ll buy you a latte.” She pushes off the bed and opens her dresser.

“Monster.”

“Huh?”

“I need a Monster.”

Her brow furrows. “Since when did you start drinking those?”

“Last week.” They’ve been the only things keeping me awake. “They’re pretty good.”

She checks over my shoulder out her open door before sliding off her pajama bottoms and stuffing into some jeans. I block her mom’s view of everything even though it’ll be pretty obvious Lex changed in front of me.

“Okay,” she says, switching shirts way too fast. She grabs her phone case wallet thing and shoves it into her back pocket before stripping Pillowman, taking the hoodie and draping it over her arm. “I get you a Monster and you let me sleep and hold your hand in the car.”

“That sounds like a magical time.”

She wrinkles her nose at me as we make our way outside. “Next time, don’t wake me up at five-thirty.”

***

The rest of the day feels like it comes and goes with just one blink. The shop was filled with people from eight to eight—I barely remember what make and models I worked on—and I was supposed to get off at six but my replacement didn’t show. So I offered to stay, hoping I’ll get noticed for a promotion or something in the future. Closing up slowed time down some, but it still went by quickly. It’s nearly ten when I clock out, and I wonder if every day will be twelve-plus hour shifts. It must be written on my face because Josh turns the lock and says, “Thanks for staying. We’re hiring a couple more floor guys so hopefully we don’t have to deal with being understaffed for long.”

“Least it goes by fast,” I say, stretching out my muscles. I’m gonna be sore as hell tomorrow.

Josh smirks and heads to his car—figures he drives a GTO with a six-pack on top. I hope I can make that kind of money here.

“Hey,” he says, “if you know of anyone, have them apply.”

I nod, thinking about Brett, but I don’t think they take anyone under eighteen. Giving Josh a wave, I climb behind the driver’s seat and then pull out my cell for any missed messages.

Three from Kaylee speaking in code party details. I don’t remember what half of them mean so I’ll call her later to figure it out. Two from Brett—one asking for the remote and the other saying never mind, he found it. And one from Lex. One. It just says “Call me.”

Sliding the call button over, I start up the car just to get the air going a bit to dry off the work sweat. My heart starts pumping overtime and I quickly tell myself not to accidentally blurt the question I have to ask her tomorrow during our date. And man, I’ve got one hell of a day planned for her. I’m gonna drive her to Colorado State campus, hit up all the local hot spots to get familiar with them, and then I’ll take her to the apartment complexes Pop-pop and I looked at after I got the job at the shop. That’s when I’ll pop the question.
So don’t do it now, Ryan!

“Hey,” Lex answers on the fourth ring, her tone tired. “How was work?”

“Busy. Everything okay?”

“Don’t hate me but… I have to cancel on our date tomorrow.”

My gut falls down to my feet. “What’s going on?” I try to say as if I’m not a million degrees of disappointed.

“My mom wants to go out. Says it’s important. Wants to talk to me about my dad, I think.”

“You want me to come with you?” I wanted to ask her how it went yesterday with him, but she konked out on my shoulder this morning pretty fast.

“I think it’s… well, it’s a family thing.”

I know it shouldn’t sting, but it does. Lex has always felt like family to me. Important talks with Pop-pop and Grams usually include her… but then I think about Brett showing up on our porch a couple months ago and Lex really wasn’t in on that conversation. So I let the sting go and say, “Yeah, okay.”

“I love you.”

“You too.”

“Do you want me to leave my window unlocked?”

I do… but I stink and I know once I get home I’ll probably want to stay there. I’m picking sleep over my girlfriend. I mean… I
get
that she needs to be with her mom tomorrow, but I’m feeling second choice. Why didn’t Lex’s mom just talk to her today? I shake my head, and grip the steering wheel. Feeling like this sucks, and I’m tired, and I don’t like feeling it, and I really don’t want to take it out on her.

“That’s okay. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know. Goodnight.”

I hang up and drive home. Sleep. I just need sleep. I’ll be over this shit in the morning.

It’s been a long time since Mom and I have spent an entire day together. Schedules have been hectic, and usually the only time we see each other is passing to the bathroom in the morning and when we’re at one of her AA meetings.

So even though I had to cancel on Ryan, I’m happy to be hanging with my Mom. After he found her in the liquor aisle I knew we needed to talk, and to be honest, I’ve been avoiding it. I had Roger handle the dirty work. And I don’t know what he did, but Mom seems to be herself again.

We sit down with our Panda Express in the mall food court and I dive into my walnut shrimp. Neither of us have addressed the elephant in the room that is my father. Almost doing everything in our power to avoid the topic. But twelve stores later and my food disappearing at rapid speed, we’re running out of ways to keep ignoring it.

So I take one last bite and put my fork down. “Ryan told me about the other day. How he found you.”

“I had a moment of weakness. It won’t happen again.”

“Did Roger help?”

She doesn’t say anything just tucks her blonde hair behind her ear and smiles.

“Why’d you break it off with him?” I ask, and her fork pauses halfway to her mouth. “He told me,” I say.

Her fork plops back down to her plate. “I… I can’t explain it.”

“Then try because I really want to know. He was becoming part of our family. I like him. And he clearly is in love with you.”

“You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know.”

“Then why?”

She pushes her food away and slumps back in her chair. Her eyes glance off, looking to God knows where before she leans back up. Her lips move like she’s about to say something, but then they push into a flat line and all I get is silence.

“Is it because of Dad?” I ask.

The tip of her nose twitches and I know she’s fighting back tears. Instead of answering me with words she nods.

“You’re not still in love with him are you?”

“God, no,” she finally says. “I don’t even know who he is anymore. But I’m not going to lie. When he showed up on our doorstep all those old feelings I thought were gone resurfaced and had me questioning every single detail of my life. Past, present, future.”

“And that’s why you broke up with Roger?”

“He’s a good man. He doesn’t deserve someone with so much baggage.”

“Everyone has baggage.”

“Maybe so, but while I deal with Kevin… your dad… I don’t want Roger to have to worry about anything.”

“Do you think he’ll wait for you?”

She shrugs. “I… I don’t expect him to.”

“What about Dad?”

“What about him?”

He’s ruined everything. How much more can we let him destroy. We were so broken for so long and just when we finally started to get our crap together, he shows up and throws a monkey wrench in it all.

“Do you believe him? That he’s…” I swallow the lump in my throat that forms every time I try to say the words and push around them. “He’s dying?”

“I can’t imagine him lying about something like that.”

I’d like to believe that too. It’d be pretty darn rotten if he was. Still a part of me can’t accept that he’s really here to make amends. To make up for all the lost time and try to be a father. I said a month though. I will give him a month. “So what do we do?”

“The only thing we can. We be there for him. If he’s as sick as he says he is then I think we should help him enjoy what little time he has left, and help take care of him when that time starts to run out.”

“
I
can do that. You don’t have to, you know? Help him.”

She smiles and her eyes gloss over. “No, I do. He was once the love of my life. It’s not something you can easily forget. I’m sure you can understand that.”

I know she’s referring to me and Ryan to make me agree with her. I hate that her and Dad keep comparing what they had to us. We are nothing like them. I get that they were in love once. They had a marriage and a child to show for that, but they weren’t meant for forever, and Ryan and I are.

“I’m happy he came back to us,” she says. “At least we get the chance to say goodbye this time.”

“Me too.”

She sighs, taking the lid for her food and closing it up. “I hear they’re having a sale on shoes at Macy’s. Let’s go check it out. I could use a new pair.” We clear our mess from the table and head to the department store. Mom believes him. Why is it so easy for her to believe him? He left her too. Drove her to the bottle. Is it all part of her 12 step program and she forgave him on step 8? I just don’t know what to think anymore. I want to hate him. I want to push him away like he pushed me away. But there’s that small part of me that sees what would  happen if he is telling the truth.

He’d die. His cancer would take him, and my stubbornness and paranoia would prevent any chance for reconciliation. Would I regret it?

I feel like a gambler who just shoved all my chips to the center of the table with a pair of twos in my pocket. I could win everything I want… but I could lose it too.

I turn the corner and smack right into a million bags and I think there’s a person in there. “I’m so sorry,” I say and two blonde braids pop out of all the bags.

“Lexie!” Kaylee exclaims.

“Hey,” I say through a laugh. “What are you doing here?”

She maneuvers her million bags and her green eyes shoot wide. “Just, you know, shopping and stuff.”

“What’s with all the bags?” I peer over but she snaps them away trying her best to hide them behind her back. I didn’t even know the candy store had bags that big.

“Nothing. I mean stuff. Hi, Ms. Boggs,” she says and turns away from me with her big smile.

“Kaylee,” Mom says with a polite nod. “I’m going to go on ahead. Alexis, I’ll meet you in the store.”

Kaylee narrows her eyes and Mom walks away laughing. What is that about?

“Why do you have a bag the size of you from the candy store?”

She blows her loose hair out of her eyes and the weird look on her face disappears and turns into…Oh God she’s going to talk about her and Nate’s sex life.

“Chocolate. Lots of chocolate. For Nate’s birthday I figured we could play body paint if I just melt it down and…”

I hold my hand up and cut her off before I find out more than I care to know.

Nate’s birthday. Which means my birthday is coming up too. How did I forget my own birthday?

“So yeah, you know. I’m just getting the stuff. For Nate. Us. Sex.”

“Okay you said enough.” I hold my hand up again because now she’s babbling and once that happens she’s almost impossible to stop.

“I’ve got to run,” she says, looking frazzled.

“Can we get together soon? I miss my Bestie,” I say and Kaylee’s eyes triple in size, the biggest grin forming before she body slams me into a hug. I try to hug her back, but I’m surrounded by bags and can’t move my arms.

“You called me bestie.” She pulls back and smiles all doofy. “Nail polish and ice cream is in our future. I promise. But for right now, I really have to go. Sorry.”

“That’s okay. I have to go stop my Mom before she buys the entire shoe department.”

“Love you, Bestie,” Kaylee says over her shoulder and I wave.

I head to find Mom and take out my phone to see if I missed any messages. I have two. One from Ryan and one from Nate.

Ryan: Are we ever going to see each other again?

Lexie: I can probably pencil you in for next October.

Ryan: Very funny.

Lexie: Soon. I hope. Miss you.

Ryan: Love you.

I click out of Ryan and swipe to Nate’s text.

Nate: Have you heard from Kaylee? She said she was going to the dance studio and she’s not here.

Lexie: I just bumped into her at the mall. I wouldn’t worry.

Nate: Why is she lying to me?

Lexie: It’s a good thing. Trust me ;)

Nate: If you say so.

I slide my phone back into my bag just as I enter the store. Mom is surrounded by boxes of shoes. She steps into a red pair and walks back and forth, then takes them off, tosses them in their box, and puts on a black pair.

She struts from one display to the next.

“Those are cute,” I say as I approach. “But so were the red ones.” I pick up a box of yellow shoes so I can sit down. “These are too.”

“I know. I can’t decide.”

“Mom,” I say and she tears her eyes away from the shoes and looks at me.

“Yeah?”

“Shoes aren’t going to solve your problems.”

“I know.” She falls into the chair next to me, knocking a pair of silver shoes to the floor. “But they couldn’t hurt.”

“No, I guess not.” Better addiction than vodka.

She pats my knee and smiles. “So how’s Kaylee?”

“Weirder than usual.”

“Is that even possible?”

“Apparently.”

Mom laughs and stands up admiring the black shoes on her feet. “I think these are the ones.”

“The ones that’ll help you solve all your problems?”

“The ones that will make me look good solving my own problems.”

“Does that mean you’ll call Roger?”

“Not yet. I still need a little more time.”

“For what?”

“Beats the hell out of me. I just know I need it.”

“Okay.”

“Tell you what. I’m already hungry Darn Chinese food. Fills you for an hour then you’re starving again. So why don’t we pick up some dinner and bring it over to your Dad at the hotel.”

Mom also didn’t eat much. She mainly pushed her food around the plate before putting her fork down.

“I think that would be nice. And while we’re doing that you can tell me all about the school play you were in Miss Most Likely To Be Famous.”

Mom tosses her hand over her face and laughs. “He told you about that?”

“He did. But I kinda wish you had. I had no idea. I’m starting to think I don’t even know you at all.”

She takes the shoes off and tosses them in the box, slipping into her own shoes. Then she takes my hand and pulls me up from the chair. “What do you want to know? I’ll tell you anything. Just don’t make me take out that old yearbook. Some things are meant to stay in the past. And my haircut back then should never see the light of day.”

“Now you have to show me.”

“Okay but I warned you. What you will see can never be unseen. It will be scarred into your brain forever. I just don’t want to be held responsible for any lingering side effects. Night terrors, burning eyes.”

I laugh and pull my mom into a hug.

“What was that for?” she asks.

“For not turning back to the bottle. This,” I say pointing to her, “is the Mom I love most. Please don’t take her away from me.”

Mom’s eyes crinkle at the sides and her nose twitches. “I promise I won’t.”

I swipe the box of shoes out of her hand. “Good. Because this Mom has such better style.” 

“You little brat,” she says, and goes to swat me, but I jump out of the way and take off to the register to pay.

“Alexis Boggs, you get over here,” she says, but starts laughing and the words turn into a jumbled mess.

The cashier takes the box from me and I take out my wallet.

“Oh no you don’t,” Mom says and tries to grab my cash.

“Oh yes I do.”

“You don’t have the money for this.”

“I think I can dip into my college fund to get you a pair of awesome shoes.”

“Don’t be silly.”

“I’m not.” The cashier takes my cash and places the shoes in a bag then hands it over to me. I hold the bag out to Mom. “Every time you have a moment of weakness, I want you to put these shoes on and remember that you are stronger than that. You got it?”

“Got it,” Mom says and takes the bag. “It’s a miracle you turned out the way you did.”

“I know. I’m pretty damn awesome.”