Wicked Beat
Page 92
“It’s not her!” Isaac yelled. “It’s me. I’m g*y. Okay?” He stared directly at Trey and said, “I’m in love with a man.”
Trey shook his head slightly and then turned his attention to the parquet floor.
Mom collapsed against Rebekah’s father in a fit of hysterical sobs.
“What?” Dr. Crandall grabbed his son by one arm. “What did you say?”
Isaac massaged his forehead with one hand. “This isn’t how I wanted to break this to you. Let’s go talk about this in private.”
Rebekah clutched the back of Isaac’s shirt, wanting to offer him comfort and at the same time keep her head above the churning waters that threatened to drown her.
“You’re g*y?” Dr. Crandall bellowed. “My son is g*y? Impossible!”
“Dad—” Isaac reached for his father’s hand, but he jerked away.
“Don’t touch me.”
“Will you listen?” Isaac said, and wiped a leaky eye on the back of his hand.
“It’s not true,” Mom cried, her head pressed firmly between both palms. “Not true. Not true.”
“Get out of my sight,” Dr. Crandall said to Isaac. “You’re not my son. I never want to lay eyes on you again.”
“Dad—” Isaac gripped his father’s sleeve, but he shook him off.
“You are not my son.”
The wounded sound Isaac made cut Rebekah’s heart in two. He wavered on his feet, and she wrapped her arms around him to keep him from collapsing.
Mom was still shrieking hysterically.
Dad was still trying to calm her down in his unassuming way.
Isaac’s weight was suddenly off her. “Go help your mother,” Trey said quietly. “I’ve got him. I’ll take him home.”
Isaac clung to Trey, who walked him toward the front door. Rebekah turned to the unpleasant task of placating her mother.
“Don’t let him leave,” she was saying, one arm outstretched in Isaac’s direction. “Don’t let him leave without Rebekah.”
“Mom,” Rebekah said. She took Mom by both shoulders and gave her a harsh shake.
“Oh baby,” Mom wailed. “I’m so sorry he left. I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you. You’re too young to die.”
Sheesh, drama queen much? “I’m not going to die, Mom. Dad, go get the car.”
Mom’s entire body was shaking. “You are. You will. Soon. God will take you from me. I know He will.”
Rebekah knew her mother was delusional, but her words still hit Rebekah like a slap in the face. “Come on, Mom. Let’s go outside and get some fresh air.” And wait for Dad. And get away from all the staring eyes and scandalized whispers. And get her mother some really good antipsychotic drugs.
Mom followed her outside. She clung to Rebekah like a frightened little girl, with her arms around Rebekah’s waist and her head on her shoulder. Rebekah stroked Mom’s hair soothingly. “It’s going to be okay, Mom. Dad will get you some help.” The driveway was entirely full of cars now, so she led her mom toward the street at the end of the drive. When Dad pulled up in the van a few minutes later, Rebekah helped her mom inside.
“Don’t you marry that rock star guy. Don’t you marry him, Rebekah,” Mom was now muttering under her breath. “He’s not right for you. Don’t you marry him.”
Dad squeezed Mom’s hand and she started as if she hadn’t realized he was there. He leaned over her to look at Rebekah outside the vehicle. “Sweetheart, I’ll get your mother admitted, and then I’ll give you a call,” Dad said. “I think you should give her a couple days to pull herself together before you come visit.”
Rebekah bit her lip and nodded, knowing he was right. When Mom got confused like this the last time, they’d had to isolate her for a couple days so she could sort things out and get a grip on reality. And then she’d been perfectly fine. Or so it had seemed at the time.
“Do you have a way home?”
Eric. She knew she could count on him. She nodded. “I’ll be fine. Go take care of Mom.”
Her eyes stinging with unshed tears, Rebekah dug her cell phone out of her evening bag and called Eric.
“What’s up? Miss me already?” he answered. She could hear the smile in his voice.
“C-can y-you come g-get me?” Damn stuttering again.
He hesitated. “Yeah, of course. What happened?”
“Just h-hurry, okay? P-please.”
“Are you okay?”
“Y-yes.” She gulped air. He was the only thing in her life not falling apart, and she needed him. So much. “N-no.” She gulped more air. “I don’t know.”
“Where are you?”
“Still at the party. Do you know how to get here?”
“Yeah.” She knew he’d looked up the address when he’d been trying to convince her that she didn’t have to arrive at the party in Isaac’s car. “Will you tell me what’s going on?”
She told him everything that happened. “Anyway… I’m stuck here without a ride and would appreciate it if you would hurry.” She lowered her voice to a whisper and glanced up the driveway where a crowd of gawkers had gathered. “People are staring…”
“I’m on my way.”
He arrived more quickly than she thought possible. She was so happy to see him that she didn’t chastise him about his speeding. She climbed into the car, wrapped both arms around his neck, and kissed every inch of his face.
“Tomorrow I refuse to leave the house. I hope you don’t mind me monopolizing your entire birthday.”
He chuckled. “I have a birthday tomorrow?”
“And I have a whole slew of surprises for you.”
“Surprises? What kind of surprises?”
“If I told you, they wouldn’t be surprises.”
“True.” He took her hand and gave it an encouraging squeeze. “Do you need to talk about what happened tonight?”
“No,” she said. “I’m going to pretend it never happened. On Monday I’ll face reality, but for the rest of the weekend there will be nothing but me and you and all our fantasies.”
He kissed her knuckles and eased the car away from the curve. “Well, if you insist.”
Chapter 33
The next morning, Eric opened his eyes to a bright blue box. Resting on Rebekah’s vacated pillow, the box was tied shut with a thick white ribbon. He rose to look around the room and was disappointed to find himself alone. Even the cocktail dress that had been hanging from the ceiling fan when he’d passed out from exhaustion the night before was now gone. He sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed and reached for the box. It had a little card attached that said, Happy 1st Birthday, sweetheart. Please open immediately. Rebekah
Trey shook his head slightly and then turned his attention to the parquet floor.
Mom collapsed against Rebekah’s father in a fit of hysterical sobs.
“What?” Dr. Crandall grabbed his son by one arm. “What did you say?”
Isaac massaged his forehead with one hand. “This isn’t how I wanted to break this to you. Let’s go talk about this in private.”
Rebekah clutched the back of Isaac’s shirt, wanting to offer him comfort and at the same time keep her head above the churning waters that threatened to drown her.
“You’re g*y?” Dr. Crandall bellowed. “My son is g*y? Impossible!”
“Dad—” Isaac reached for his father’s hand, but he jerked away.
“Don’t touch me.”
“Will you listen?” Isaac said, and wiped a leaky eye on the back of his hand.
“It’s not true,” Mom cried, her head pressed firmly between both palms. “Not true. Not true.”
“Get out of my sight,” Dr. Crandall said to Isaac. “You’re not my son. I never want to lay eyes on you again.”
“Dad—” Isaac gripped his father’s sleeve, but he shook him off.
“You are not my son.”
The wounded sound Isaac made cut Rebekah’s heart in two. He wavered on his feet, and she wrapped her arms around him to keep him from collapsing.
Mom was still shrieking hysterically.
Dad was still trying to calm her down in his unassuming way.
Isaac’s weight was suddenly off her. “Go help your mother,” Trey said quietly. “I’ve got him. I’ll take him home.”
Isaac clung to Trey, who walked him toward the front door. Rebekah turned to the unpleasant task of placating her mother.
“Don’t let him leave,” she was saying, one arm outstretched in Isaac’s direction. “Don’t let him leave without Rebekah.”
“Mom,” Rebekah said. She took Mom by both shoulders and gave her a harsh shake.
“Oh baby,” Mom wailed. “I’m so sorry he left. I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you. You’re too young to die.”
Sheesh, drama queen much? “I’m not going to die, Mom. Dad, go get the car.”
Mom’s entire body was shaking. “You are. You will. Soon. God will take you from me. I know He will.”
Rebekah knew her mother was delusional, but her words still hit Rebekah like a slap in the face. “Come on, Mom. Let’s go outside and get some fresh air.” And wait for Dad. And get away from all the staring eyes and scandalized whispers. And get her mother some really good antipsychotic drugs.
Mom followed her outside. She clung to Rebekah like a frightened little girl, with her arms around Rebekah’s waist and her head on her shoulder. Rebekah stroked Mom’s hair soothingly. “It’s going to be okay, Mom. Dad will get you some help.” The driveway was entirely full of cars now, so she led her mom toward the street at the end of the drive. When Dad pulled up in the van a few minutes later, Rebekah helped her mom inside.
“Don’t you marry that rock star guy. Don’t you marry him, Rebekah,” Mom was now muttering under her breath. “He’s not right for you. Don’t you marry him.”
Dad squeezed Mom’s hand and she started as if she hadn’t realized he was there. He leaned over her to look at Rebekah outside the vehicle. “Sweetheart, I’ll get your mother admitted, and then I’ll give you a call,” Dad said. “I think you should give her a couple days to pull herself together before you come visit.”
Rebekah bit her lip and nodded, knowing he was right. When Mom got confused like this the last time, they’d had to isolate her for a couple days so she could sort things out and get a grip on reality. And then she’d been perfectly fine. Or so it had seemed at the time.
“Do you have a way home?”
Eric. She knew she could count on him. She nodded. “I’ll be fine. Go take care of Mom.”
Her eyes stinging with unshed tears, Rebekah dug her cell phone out of her evening bag and called Eric.
“What’s up? Miss me already?” he answered. She could hear the smile in his voice.
“C-can y-you come g-get me?” Damn stuttering again.
He hesitated. “Yeah, of course. What happened?”
“Just h-hurry, okay? P-please.”
“Are you okay?”
“Y-yes.” She gulped air. He was the only thing in her life not falling apart, and she needed him. So much. “N-no.” She gulped more air. “I don’t know.”
“Where are you?”
“Still at the party. Do you know how to get here?”
“Yeah.” She knew he’d looked up the address when he’d been trying to convince her that she didn’t have to arrive at the party in Isaac’s car. “Will you tell me what’s going on?”
She told him everything that happened. “Anyway… I’m stuck here without a ride and would appreciate it if you would hurry.” She lowered her voice to a whisper and glanced up the driveway where a crowd of gawkers had gathered. “People are staring…”
“I’m on my way.”
He arrived more quickly than she thought possible. She was so happy to see him that she didn’t chastise him about his speeding. She climbed into the car, wrapped both arms around his neck, and kissed every inch of his face.
“Tomorrow I refuse to leave the house. I hope you don’t mind me monopolizing your entire birthday.”
He chuckled. “I have a birthday tomorrow?”
“And I have a whole slew of surprises for you.”
“Surprises? What kind of surprises?”
“If I told you, they wouldn’t be surprises.”
“True.” He took her hand and gave it an encouraging squeeze. “Do you need to talk about what happened tonight?”
“No,” she said. “I’m going to pretend it never happened. On Monday I’ll face reality, but for the rest of the weekend there will be nothing but me and you and all our fantasies.”
He kissed her knuckles and eased the car away from the curve. “Well, if you insist.”
Chapter 33
The next morning, Eric opened his eyes to a bright blue box. Resting on Rebekah’s vacated pillow, the box was tied shut with a thick white ribbon. He rose to look around the room and was disappointed to find himself alone. Even the cocktail dress that had been hanging from the ceiling fan when he’d passed out from exhaustion the night before was now gone. He sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed and reached for the box. It had a little card attached that said, Happy 1st Birthday, sweetheart. Please open immediately. Rebekah
