Violet Addiction (16 page)

“I think I like this Neanderthal side of you,” I admitted, and Cain’s body shook with laughter. With my body still blanketing his, he reached for the bedside table.

“It only seems to come out around you; you bring out the beast in me. Now, introduce me to your friend,” he said with a wicked smirk and my vibrator in hand.

Cain and I spent the entire weekend wrapped up in each other, literally and metaphorically. We were cocooned in a world where nothing could touch us, enjoying an affection we had never allowed ourselves to express before. Like all bubbles though, ours finally burst in the form of a phone call from Annabelle. She had scheduled a prenatal scan and wanted to let Cain know so he could book a flight home. Just the thought made me feel ill, and I had no intention of accompanying Cain on this one. Cain, however, had other ideas, and his Neanderthal side came out to play when he went ahead and booked a flight for me too, without asking! I refused to be a third wheel on an event as special as seeing your child in the womb for the first time. Awkward much? So Cain arranged for me to spend my first night with my father. He would spend it with his own family and accompany Annabelle to the appointment the following day, then spend that night with me and Dad.

Now, I once again stood outside my father’s door, the third time in a year. I hadn’t been home this much since I had left. Before I had a chance to knock, the door was flung open, and I was dragged into my father’s warm hug. His body was so much softer than it had ever been before; he’d managed to put on even more weight.

“I missed you, pumpkin,” he said a little gruffly before drawing away.

Dad looked good, but I could still see the sadness in his eyes. He missed Mom. For all her faults, he loved her and that was something I could finally understand. Being apart from Cain had felt like my heart was being constantly shredded with sharp, cold knives; the only reprieve coming in the form of sleep and the gentle distraction of a stranger. Even though my mother had been a destructive force in our house, I understood my father’s love for her. You can’t help who you fall in love with, and now he was alone.

“Who’s been feeding you, old man? You keep growing like this, and I’m going to stuff you in a Santa suit next month and make you crawl down the chimney.”

Dad chuckled. “I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t fit.” He dragged my suitcase inside, closing the door on the winter chill.

“You painted,” I said with more than a little surprise. The usually drab grey walls were a pale shade of blue and new carpet finished the makeover. The furniture was the same, but it was neat and tidy. Running my finger as inconspicuously as possible over a shelf to my side, I noticed there wasn’t a speck of dust.

“I did, thought the place needed freshening up. I went with blue. It’s your mother’s favorite color.” His eyes welled with unshed tears as he looked my way. “Was her favorite color. You hungry?” He blinked away the tears and hurried to the kitchen.

“Not really,” I murmured. My stomach was still in knots over Cain’s appointment with Annabelle tomorrow. I wasn’t exactly dealing with this whole baby business as gracefully as I would have liked.

“I’d offer you coffee, but if you’re anything like me, it will have you bouncing off the walls all night. You want some hot chocolate? I’ve got marshmallows.”

“How could I possibly turn down chocolate and marshmallows?”

Dad began making himself busy in the kitchen while I sat quietly and watched him. His grey hair was a mess, and his clothes were rumpled; even with the slight disarray, he seemed to be doing well, almost happy even.

“So, Cain knocked some bird up, and you’re along for the ride,” my father said, shocking the hell out of me.

“How do you know that?”

Dad gave me a wink. “I work on Nancy’s Volvo.” I rolled my eyes. Nancy was the town gossip. Nothing got past the woman. I actually admired her skill at acquiring information and delivering it to the masses. “So, what’s the story? I heard they called off the wedding? Is it because of the baby? Are they going to wait until after it’s born?”

I pretended to inspect the pink polish on my nails and tried for as much nonchalance as possible. “Cain and Annabelle have come to a mutual decision to end their relationship, but they both want to do what’s right for the baby, so Cain is going to be as involved as possible. He’s going to make a wonderful father; he was always good with kids.”

Dad handed me a warm mug of hot chocolate and pushed an open bag of marshmallows into the center of the table. I took two and dunked them into the warm liquid.

“Huh.” I took a sip and eyed him from over the top of my mug. I could almost see the cogs turning in his mind. He pinned me with a hard stare. “Does this have something to do with you? I don’t want to upset you and cause any friction, but if there is something going on with you and Cain that is distracting him from his duties as a husband and father, maybe you guys should take a break.” Dad’s words shocked me, so much so it took a good few minutes before I could talk.

“I had nothing to do with their breakup. In fact, I only learned about it a little over two weeks ago.” Dad nodded, mollified by my answer, but I needed to tell him that Cain and I were embarking on a relationship. Cain was coming to stay tomorrow night before we flew back to New York, and I didn’t want to tip toe around our relationship with my father. “We are kind of seeing each other now though,” I added quietly. Dad carefully placed his hot chocolate down and those grey eyes that were once filled with a constant haze of alcohol were clear and astute. “Cain never really loved Annabelle, and when she got pregnant he was torn between doing the right thing and,” I shrugged, “I guess doing the right thing. He could have stayed with her, brought their baby into the world, got married, had an unsatisfying marriage that most likely would have ended in divorce, which would have done their child more harm than good. Instead, he and Annabelle decided the best course of action was to call off the engagement and maintain a friendship so they could welcome their child into the world with hearts full of honesty rather than lies.” Dad remained quiet and I became nervous under his still contemplation.

“You realize you’re going to be a third wheel in their relationship. Regardless of what they have or don’t have, they will have a child together. They are bound together by that for the rest of their lives.” Even though I had already taken this into consideration, hearing it out loud stung my heart in ways I never thought possible. I nodded as I took a sip from my drink. My throat was tight with emotion; forcing the sweet liquid down took a lot of effort.

“Trust me, I know.”

“Annabelle’s family are good people. Her mother is very conservative in her ways; they will be disappointed.”

“You know them?” I asked a little surprised.

“We’ve all lived in this town our whole lives. I don’t know them well, but well enough to know they were excited about the prospect of welcoming Cain into their family.”

Somehow, that made me feel worse. The thought that Annabelle and her family were genuinely nice people, who would all be impacted by Cain’s decision to ultimately leave her for me, made my stomach even more unsettled. What was I doing? This suddenly seemed like such a monumentally wrong choice. I felt as though I was dividing a family.

“Do you know much about surround sound systems?” The sudden change in subject almost gave me whiplash. At my confused look, Dad explained, “I bought one. Haven’t got a clue how to set it up though. Want to help an old man?” I was fairly sure I wouldn’t have a clue either, but the chance to distract myself and spend some quality time with my father was too good to pass up.

My knee bounced in a rapid tempo that was better suited to my hazy days full of cocaine. I fiddled with my fingers anxiously, my gaze darting over everything around me but not really seeing anything. My thoughts were chaotic and troubling. Today was a bad day. I had woken before my dad. The sun was barely breaking the distant horizon as I pulled on my sneakers and shoved a woolen beanie over my bed head. I had barely slept a wink all night, and I couldn’t stand the trapped sensation my old bedroom was giving me. I needed to get out and run. Now, it was nearing lunchtime, and I was sitting on a park bench overlooking the perfectly manicured lawn before me. The trees were bare, autumn and the nearing winter taking its toll on the foliage. Cain would be arriving at the doctor’s office with Annabelle in the next hour and would be seeing his baby for the first time. My heart was presently tied in a knot and volatile thoughts of hopelessness and loathing were consuming me. No matter how far I ran, those voices in my head couldn’t be silenced today. Annabelle didn’t deserve to lose Cain’s love to me. I was nothing; she had a good family, a decent family. She wasn’t an ex junkie who had whored herself for a hit. Why would Cain give that up? He couldn’t give that up. My eyes darted to the bar across the street for the thousandth time. Being a weekday, it was quiet, most of its patrons wouldn’t arrive for another few hours, when the working day drew to an end. God, how I wanted a drink, but even more, I wanted a hit. I wanted that hit so bad I ached for the blessed relief of cocaine, just a line to take me away and help me feel something other than this bleak worthlessness. Maybe a drink would replace the urgent need for the fickle white powder. Just because I used mostly when I was drinking didn’t mean I had to. I could have just one drink. Just a small nip of whiskey to help take the edge off and allow me to relax. Before I could talk myself out of it, my feet were moving, and I crossed the street, strolling into the almost empty bar. I had been here before, once or twice when I was younger. It hadn’t changed. It was dimly lit, and the air held the musty scent of beer. The furniture was dark colored and aged, the leather on the bar stools worn in places. In the far corner, sat a pool table, lit by a flickering florescent light. A jukebox sat beside it, playing Bon Jovi’s “Living On A Prayer”. Two men sat at the bar, two stools separating them, yet they were talking to each other. A man and woman sat at a booth by the pool table. The woman’s eyes lifted to mine as I walked in. I knew that look well; that glazed emptiness in her eyes that immediately told me she was high. I wasn’t here for that, even though my body screamed for it with such an urgent demand that I shook.

“What can I get you?” a young man behind the bar asked. He would have been my age, a little on the gangly side with thick, dark hair that hung over his eyes. His lip was pierced, and he played with the hoop in his teeth as he waited for my order. When he pushed his dark hair back off his eyes, I spied another piercing in his eyebrow. He didn’t look anything like the bartender from Vegas who had taken advantage of me, yet I still felt nervous as I sat on a stool at the bar.

“Jack on the rocks,” I murmured, handing him a twenty. He poured the drink and took my money. He handed me my change then moved back to the opposite end of the bar where he watched an ice hockey game on the TV. I sat and stared at the whiskey, willing myself to push it away.
Leave now, Violet, while you still can
. I glanced at my cell phone sitting on the bar beside me. One o’clock, Cain and Annabelle’s appointment time. I clenched my eyes shut in an effort to force away the thoughts and feelings that bombarded me. When that didn’t work, through eyes filled with tears, I grabbed the glass and brought it to my lips. After eleven months of sobriety, the amber liquid hit my tongue like an old lost friend, a warm one at that. I didn’t stop at a sip; I drank the glass dry before quietly placing it down in front of me. After a few long, deep breaths, I glanced to the bartender whose eyes caught mine.

“Another?”

I nodded. He once again filled my glass and gladly took my money, leaving me alone as soon as he was done. The second drink I sipped slowly, savoring the taste. I’d had better. I’d tasted some of the smoothest whiskeys this country had to offer, but this drink was like stumbling out of the desert and taking my first sip of water. Not perfect, but needed and crucial to my very survival. As my body began to warm and relax, my raging thoughts began to quiet and dissipate, giving me the much needed freedom I yearned for. Four glasses later, I was finally feeling good, just like old times.