Almost Beautiful, page 26
“Was she at home when it happened?” I asked.
“No, she was in her room at the hospital. She’d been there for a couple of days.”
“Good,” I said, nodding. “That’s good. Was … was she alone?”
Jesse sighed. “No one’s ever alone at the hospital.”
“You know what I mean.”
“She’d slipped into a coma the day she passed. She wouldn’t have known if anyone had made it there to visit.”
“You mean, if I had made it to visit.”
“You didn’t know. Hell, I didn’t know until after,” he said. “Abby, she was in a warm, comfortable bed right up to the end. You should take comfort in that.”
“I guess so,” I said, looking down at my hands.
“I should go. I left without telling anyone and I have to … I should go,” Jesse said.
I stood and he hugged me, but I kept my arms at my sides.
“Call me, okay? I’m here for you.” He waved, but just as he reached for the knob, someone banged on the door. Jesse looked back at America and me, and then turned the bolt lock and the knob.
Travis was standing in the hall. He didn’t seem surprised to see Jesse, but he was still unhappy to have to shoulder past him to get to me.
I was prepared for a jealousy-fueled lecture, but he took me into his arms and held me tight.
“I got here as quick as I could.”
“That was … really quick,” America said.
“I’m, uh …” Jesse said, pointing at the door.
“I appreciate you bringing her here,” Travis said, his cheek still against my hair. “Still, fuck you, though.”
Jesse nodded. “Fair enough.”
He closed the door behind him, and Travis squeezed me tightly. “I’m so sorry, Pidge,” he whispered.
I looked up at him. “How did you …?”
He frowned, the same way he did when he was telling me his itinerary before he left. “I came as soon as I heard. I had to move Heaven and Earth, but I’m here now.”
“How? How are you here? Now?
Travis chuckled, nervous. “One of the organizers heard what happened, got me a private plane and then I was here.”
I hugged him again, pressing my cheek against his chest. “I’m just glad you’re here.”
“Me, too.”
“Okay,” America said, tossing her phone to her bed and then sitting next to me. Her follow up was soft and comforting. “Once you identify her, the funeral home will step in. Then you’ll have some decisions to make. Jesse sent me the address to her apartment. It’s in Boulder City, about forty minutes from here.” She looked at her watch. “But … I’m sorry Abby we have to go to the morgue now.”
I shook my head.
“I’ll be with you,” Travis said.
America hugged us both. “You don’t have to do this alone.”
“I don’t know that I can do this at all.”
“Yes, you can,” America said, meeting my gaze. “You have to. There’s no one else.”
I closed my eyes for a moment, to get my bearings while they kept their arms around me. America was right, I wasn’t alone. I had my husband and my best friend with me, the two people in the world I was the safest with.
Again, the car was filled with silence. Travis had called us an Uber, and even the driver knew not to speak. It could’ve been Travis’s natural ability to intimidate or the fact that our destination was a morgue—or both.
When we arrived, Travis and I stood in front of the building, three stories of nearly non-descript architectural features. Taupe brick, a few rectangular windows, double doors that perfectly matched the brick, and a sign that almost looked generic.
America took a few steps forward but stopped when she realized we weren’t following. “You two okay?”
I looked up at Travis, who was staring at the building, a deep line formed between his brows.
“Oh my God. Oh my God, I didn’t even think, Trav. You shouldn’t have come,” I said, covering my eyes.
He peeled my fingers back and then kissed them. “I want nothing more than to be here with you.”
“But …” I began.
He shook his head. “Is this hard for me? Yeah. I hate seeing you go through this because I can relate.” He looked at the building. “But I’m glad I can hold your hand through it.”
We walked in, and I let America handle the people at the desk. I gave them my ID, and then we waited.
And waited.
And waited.
… and waited.
Finally, a man in navy blue scrubs came to the door.
“Mrs. Maddox?” he called.
The three of us stood, and Travis steadied me as we walked forward.
The man asked me several questions as we walked to the back, and I answered, but moments later I wasn’t sure what had been asked. We went through a swinging door, and then another, to a large sterile-looking room that smelled like a combination of a hospital and a deep freeze.
The man led us to a wall full of silver drawers with thin handles. He doubled checked the numbers and then pulled.
I saw my mother lying there lifeless, and again, I felt nothing. The numbness scared me more than what I was looking at.
Then, the tears came.
“I’m sorry, we need a verbal confirmation.”
“It’s her,” I said, turning my back to her.
America and Travis never left my side.
Signing forms and making our way back outside was a blur. And between my panic that I was somehow broken for being unable to grieve at the sight of my lifeless mother and the pure rage I felt for Mick that he’d left me to handle everything—again—I was relieved that at least that part was over.
“I hate this town. I never want to come back here again,” I said, trying to breathe through my tears.
“Just one meeting with the funeral director and we can go home,” America said.
“Cremate her. Just have them cremate her and send her to me. Embalming and the makeup is for people to remember differently than what I just saw. I’ve already seen it. Just cremate her and send her to me. I’ll … figure it out later.”
America was surprised at first, but then nodded and began tapping on her phone. She held the receiver to her ear and walked away, chatting with whoever was on the line.
Travis ordered the Uber and put his phone away, holding me with both hands. “I’m so sorry you had to see that, Pidge. I’m sorry your piece-of-shit father is, yet again, letting you down and making you do the heavy lifting in the family.”
“Well, I have you. He has no one.”
“Whose fault is that?” America said, rejoining us. “They’re going to email you some forms to sign and they’ll take care of it. It’s … it’s going to be fifteen-hundred dollars, though.”
“Okay,” Travis said. “That’s not a problem.”
“Since when?” I said, stunned. My cheeks felt hot and wet, but Travis kissed one side anyway.
“I’ll take care of it, Pigeon.”
I took a deep breath and stared forward. “I just want to leave this place and go home. Pretend it was all a bad dream and that she’s just … estranged, not dead.”
America gently rubbed my back with her palm. “I’ll run you a bath at the hotel. I’ve told Shepley to cancel his flight. We’re flying back tomorrow.”
I looked to Travis. “You can go back to the convention. Thank you for dropping everything and coming.”
He frowned. “No way. Hell, no. I’m going home with you. I’m not leaving your side.”
I leaned into him, relieved. Travis was my rock, my home base, the only safe haven I’d known. I wasn’t even going to pretend I didn’t desperately need him.
In the back of my mind, I worried that when the grief hit, there was no telling what those emotions might unleash. I was still on a rollercoaster with no way off. But it was bearable with my husband next to me, and America always at my side.
It seemed like a tragedy that my mother would have no funeral, no tombstone, no family to visit her viewing. But she chose to be alone, and I would never have to be.
“I’m so lucky to have you both in my life,” I said. “I’m just glad tomorrow I’ll be leaving Las Vegas, for good this time.”
“You have a lot of good to look forward to, Abby. Lots of distractions,” America said.
I turned to her. “I need all the distractions. What do you have in mind?”
“Um,” she said, thinking. “You want to talk about it now?”
“Anything else. Please,” I said.
“Well, let’s see. Um … Oh! The Spring Bash is coming up, and Boom Fest.”
“Boom Fest? What is that?” I asked.
Travis spoke as he checked for the Uber’s location again. “It’s the annual campus music festival. They didn’t have it last year because … well, the fire.”
America offered a cautious smile. “Everyone’s been talking about it. If you’re up for it.”
“It falls on my birthday this year,” Travis said. “And it’s my twenty-first. All my brothers will be there for it. But, if you’re not up for it, I’m happy to sit at home with you and Netflix and cuddle with a big bowl of popcorn and Toto in our laps.”
Just when he frowned, America spoke up, “Trent and Cami should be picking him up anytime now.”
He nodded. “Good. Much better choice than Brazil.” He kissed my hair. “You doing okay, Pidge? Uber is almost here.”
“I’m ashamed to admit what’s wrong,” I said.
Travis and America positioned themselves to get a better look at my facial expression. I wasn’t sure why; they both knew I’d never give anything away.
“I’m not sad,” I blurted out. “What is wrong with me?”
“Abby,” America said, holding my hand in both of hers. “You just found out—hours ago—that she died. You barely know her but she’s your mother. How are you supposed to feel?” America brushed my cheek with her thumb. “Feelings are never wrong. Whatever you feel, it’s okay. If you’re sad later, that’s okay. If you never are, that’s okay, too.”
I took a deep breath, letting my body relax. “Lots to look forward to,” I said to myself. “Distractions. And I’m leaving Las Vegas ... forever.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Moses
Travis
“YOU OKAY?” I ASKED ABBY.
She squeezed me with a side-hug. “Thank you. This is exactly what I needed”
Bonnie’s ashes had been delivered to us the day before, and it took Abby a full hour to decide what to do with the urn. She didn’t want to look at it every day, but she also didn’t feel right storing it away in the closet. So, we decided on Shep’s old room.
We popped over to the hardware store and I made a simple shelf. Abby set the urn in the center and decorated each side with small flower vases and seemed to feel okay with it. But I wasn’t sure if she was ready for what we were about to walk into.
Boom Fest was Eastern State’s lesser version of Coachella. The girls wore sparkling, skimpy outfits, wild makeup that usually included glitter or those little fake gems stuck to their faces. The guys had it easier, typically in Baha hats or fedoras and Hawaiian shirts.
Abby and America looked the part, America in some wild white ensemble: a white corset with wide straps that laced up the front and a pair of white spanks—she called them—but there was also a see-through white shirt she wore under the corset tank top thing, with sleeves that hung just above her elbows and then the rest of the fabric hung low over her shorts. Her hair was in a bunch of braids with white and silver ribbons and she was sporting some kind of white lace up leather combat boots. She even had silver metallic lashes and heart shaped goggles she was using as a head band or something.
Abby wasn’t quite as flashy, but it still made me feel like my old self was bubbling just under the surface. I didn’t say anything about the black bikini top that had a Route 66 patch on one triangle and a motorcycle embroidered on the other, or the black micro shorts she was wearing—but the old me would have.
For some reason, it was the shin-high lace up black leather boots she was wearing that made me the most uncomfortable, and I couldn’t figure out why.
Abby adjusted the thick black choker on her neck and turned to search for Finch, one of her two French braids flipping over her shoulder. “You coming?” she called.
“I’m coming, betch! Patience,” Finch called from thirty yards away. His boyfriend Felix was following close behind.
Abby rose up on the balls of her feet to kiss my cheek, and then laughed as she wiped away the silver glitter than had apparently transferred from under her eyes to my face. “Oops, let me get that,” she said with a smile.
“Leave it on there,” I said, leaning back. I held her hand at bay and then pecked her lips when she didn’t expect it, making her laugh even harder.
My brothers and their significant others were supposed to be waiting for us at the Ferris Wheel, but I didn’t see them anywhere.
“That’s weird,” I said, looking at my watch. “We’re ten minutes late.”
“Sorry,” America said.
“And none of them are here? Wasn’t this the spot, Shep?” I asked.
“Didn’t you see the group text?” Shepley said. “Thomas said he couldn’t make it so everyone else kind of dropped out after that.”
“No fucking way,” I said, looking around. “They’re not coming for my twenty-first birthday? I went to all of theirs! That’s bullshi—”
“April Fools, motherfucker!” Trent said, tackling me from the back.
I turned to see all four of my brothers and their girls standing behind me, and all eight sets of their eyes lit up.
“Happy Birthday!” they said in unison.
Abby hugged Cami first.
America went straight for Falyn and Ellie.
The girls all took turns hugging each other, like my brothers did to me. When it was Thomas’s turn, he hugged me tight.
“We wouldn’t miss it, baby bro.”
Seeing him felt awkward, and I didn’t like that. He wasn’t just my brother anymore, he was my boss, my warden, and I’d already seen him a second time in San Diego just since Abby’s mom died to get in the rest of my training with Marks and Taber—and some other dude named Sawyer who showed up for no reason other than to watch. And no one else but Liis knew.
Liis nodded to me, and I was sure she could sense my sudden unease. “Happy birthday, Travis.”
“Thanks, Lind … Liis.”
From my peripheral, I saw Abby notice. She kept a relaxed smile on her face, but her eyes lingered on the awkward exchange for just a moment before she looked away to finish chatting with Ellie.
“Let’s go,” Finch said. “The bands are all the way on the other side.”
We followed Finch and Felix, the girls chatting and side-hugging, the Maddox boys nudging and soft-punching.
The festival was packed, but the crowd parted like the Red Sea for us, seeing five different renowned fighters from The Circle approaching like a small army, with the loves of their lives in tow. We passed food trucks and various booths, and then we got into the area where there were carnival spectacles, fire breathers and acrobats, clowns and exotic animals. When we finally reached the back edge of the concert area, we kept going, easily making our way to the center.
The band began to play within minutes, easily heard over the roaring cheers from the crowd. I stood behind Abby, wrapping my arms around her middle. She leaned back against my chest and we swayed, enjoying our first moment of real peace since the fire.
It made me want to believe Thomas that everything would be alright. That we’d get the intel they needed to make arrests and Abby and I could be happy in the meantime.
Ellie was suddenly on Tyler’s shoulders, cheering for the band. And then America climbed onto Shepley’s.
I looked down to Abby. “Want a better view?”
She nodded with enthusiasm, giving me an extra bump of adrenaline to pop her up with barely any effort. Soon, all the girls were sitting above the crowd—except for Liis, who wasn’t interested—even though she was the tiniest of us.
The band played on, a third song, then a fourth, the lead singer telling stories and quipping to make us all laugh between songs.
It was a perfect day, the sun not too hot and with a gentle breeze once in a while to cool us off where we stood, shoulder to shoulder. As the sun began to set, fireworks were lit in the distance, and the crowd went insane.
One by one, the girls asked to be lowered to the ground, with Ellie being the last. They began dancing then—not Liis, of course—and my cousin, brothers and I watched with amusement.
Abby had her hands in the air, smiling and swaying to the music.
The music stopped and the lead singer thanked everyone for coming, and we all erupted.
Just as the crowd quieted down, Abby looked to me and smiled. A second later, a loud slap filled the air, and Abby jerked forward. Her eyes widened, she looked at me.
My gaze settled behind her, where Brandon stood.
“Damn, that was a good one! I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” he said, rubbing his hands together.
Abby rubbed her back side and turned to face him, quickly backing toward me.
The celebrating was over, then. The Maddox family was staring down a common enemy.
I started to charge him, but somehow stopped myself, breathing hard. The adrenaline running through my veins made me want to fight everyone in the crowd.
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” I said, seething.
“I mean,” Brandon gestured to my wife. “Look at her. Look at that ass! It was right there, brother, I had to!”
Abby put her hand on my shoulder. “Don’t. He’s baiting you,” she whispered.
“What?” Brandon asked, looking around. “You mad? Might want to ask your brother over there what it’s like to throw with me. I beat his ass back then, and I’m better now.”
“I was a pint and a half of whiskey in, you stupid fuck,” Tyler quipped. He took a step forward, but I held my hand to his chest.
