Remembering Phoenix Page 4

  It feels like home.

  “Dad?” I ask, his chin resting on top of my head.

  “What, darling?”

  “Did I always use to do this? Stay on your chest and just breathe in your scent?”

  He pulls back quickly and stares at me with a look of surprise. “You remember?”

  I shake my head, smiling softly. The excitement in his face makes me wish so badly I didn’t have to let him down… again. “No. But I feel like I’ve always loved it. It just feels so comfortable. So familiar.”

  He arches his head up towards the ceiling for a few seconds then looks back down at me. “When you were little and scared, you would always bury your head in my chest. When you were a teenager and you thought your world was ending because your boyfriend of a few weeks dumped you, you’d do the same, and you would cry until you felt better. You always said I was your comfort when you needed it. You said you loved my funny smell, because you hated the smell of tobacco, but loved the smell of peppermint.”

  A flood of emotions wrap around me, consuming me. I wish so badly I could remember that, but just having a sense of familiarity makes me so extremely happy. I feel like the connection I’ve been longing to have with my father since the accident just hit me like a ton of bricks.

  “Can I keep doing that? When I just need comfort?”

  “You can bury your head in my chest anytime you want, Charlie Girl. I’m still your daddy, and you’ll always be my little girl.”

  I smile as I fan away the tears threatening to ruin my makeup.

  “Daddy. Charlie,” Lizzie interrupts. “I’m really glad you two had this moment, but could you stop? I don’t want my makeup to mess up right now.”

  Dad and I both let out a small laugh. I look at my sister. “Let’s get you married, shall we?” I ask, before walking back into position.

  Slayter stares at me. “What’s your problem?” I chide.

  “Nothing,” he replies, looking down at me. He smiles. “But, to get back to our conversation, I do think your scar is beautiful.”

  My jaw drops. Literally. I think it disconnected from my face.

  He said what?

  I bring my hand to my face, covering the three-inch long scar, which runs from my cheekbone down towards my chin. I’ve gone through numerous laser treatments to try to diminish the scar. I’ve done countless at-home treatments, all of which failed miserably. It’s a constant reminder of the accident. A constant reminder I’m broken, that I have a missing piece. Ironically enough, it’s a constant reminder that I don’t remember. Nothing at all.

  “We all have scars, Charlie. Some scars just aren’t physical.”

  Little does he know I have those, too.

  “Do you always try to be a life guru?”

  He winks. “I am a guru at nearly everything in life. Trust me.”

  I laugh at his innuendo. “I doubt that very seriously.”

  “Oh, Charlie. You just need to see for yourself.”

  “That will never fucking happen.”

  “Didn’t I tell you there was no cussing in church?” He grins.

  I roll my eyes. “Can we just get this day over with so you can go back to annoying someone else?”

  “I don’t annoy anyone. Just ask Abby.”

  My head snaps to him at the mention of her name. “What?”

  “I am absolutely kidding. But I knew it,” he states. “You find me attractive.”

  “Do not. I find you distracting.”

  “Attractive. Distracting. It’s all the same.” He smirks like he’s just won a battle of wills.

  “Just distracting,” I correct him, rolling my eyes in disgust. “I also find you rather annoying, self-absorbed, and I bet you’re a man whore.”

  We take a few steps forward as Abby and Tim make their way down the aisle. Once they get to the front of the church, Olivia and Cade follow behind. “I’m not a whore of a man,” he replies. He’s quiet for a few seconds, then leans in. “You know, I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot of each other now that your sister is marrying my brother.”

  “Doubt it. I’ve never met you before all of this, and they’ve been together forever.”

  “Yeah, well, I haven’t lived here during the entire duration. But now I do.” He winks. I roll my eyes, annoyed by his ridiculously good looks and his obvious inability to shut his mouth.

  “I’m pretty recluse. Don’t get out much. So unless you barge into my apartment, we won’t be seeing much of each other.”

  Randi and Hank make their way down the aisle and pause for the photographer to snap a photo. Slayter holds his elbow out for me to place my arm in. I hold on tight to the white and plum bouquet with the other hand as we start our trek down the aisle.

  A small wave of sadness washes over me. I know I’ll never have this. I know I won’t ever have the fairy tale. I lost that two years ago.

  My self-pity instantly disappears when Slayter whispers, “Barging into your apartment can be arranged.”

  No. No, it cannot.

  “Dude, Abby is a dime,” Tim says for the thousandth time. If I hear her name one more time, I’ll physically rip his voice box out of his throat.

  “Nah, I was thinking she was more like the penny you see but never pick up, because let’s face it. It’s a penny. And we all know they get ran over more than anything.”

  “Dude. You’re insane.”

  His talking is equivalent to nails on a chalkboard. “Rule one: Never say dude again. You sound like a twelve year old whose balls just dropped. Rule two: Don’t talk about Abby in front of me again. I really don’t care to hear about her. And if you do either of the two in my presence, I’m not responsible for what bodily harm I inflict upon you.”

  “Bastard,” he mumbles as he exits the room.

  I throw his bottle of Jack back in his bag in case the preacher comes in here. Don’t want him having a heart attack.

  The door swings back open and Stetson walks in. “Hey bro.”

  I nod my head. “What’s up? Why aren’t you in the reception hall with everyone else?”

  He huffs. “Because I needed to sneak a drink. I’ll never understand why Lizzie was so damn adamant about everything being done here. Jesus Christ, all these people staring at me constantly is just too damn much to deal with sober.”

  I laugh, because it’s hilarious he thinks being the center of attention is too much. “I do recall you always wanting to be the in the spotlight when you were growing up.”

  “Yeah, well, then I grew up,” he adds.

  “You did, didn’t you?”

  He laughs. “More than you’d believe, big bro.”

  “Listen to little Beck talk the big talk,” I joke. “On a serious note, I’m proud of you, Stet. Mom and Dad would be too.”

  He snaps his head towards me. “Not now, Slayter. I don’t want to go there.”

  I hold my hands up in surrender. I respect his need to not talk about it. I just wish he would talk about it sometimes. “Okay. I get it.”

  After taking one last swig of his liquor, he grabs a CD out of the side of his bag. He hands it to me. “Could you run and give this to the deejay? He’ll know what to do with it.”

  “Uh, okay. Sure,” I answer as he walks out the door.

  I look down at the clear CD case. Scribbled in permanent marker on the front is one word: Phoenix.

  Who or what is Phoenix?

  I watch as the guests meander around and visit with other guests they know. A herd of girls circle around Lizzie, gawking over her dress as they snap photos of each other and themselves with the bride. I sink down further in my chair. Why I have to sit at a designated table for the wedding party is beyond me. I really didn’t have a choice in the matter, so here I am.

  At least I get to see Charlie.

  The real question here is, why do I want to see Charlie? I don’t even know the girl. There’s just something about her. The way she’s guarded. Her dry sense of humor, which I find oddly attractive. Her comp
lete unknowing how damn beautiful she is. The fact she doesn’t vie to be the most beautiful person in the room, but she just is.

  Dammit.

  I shake my head at myself. I lock gazes on the 5-tier cake in the front of the room, trying to think of anything else.

  Why are weddings always so formal? Why can’t they just say I do and then have one big, thrown together party? There’s so many expectations, so much money spent on one day when it’s not about the day at all. It’s about the days that follow. But what do I know? I’m just a twenty-seven year old man who’s never been married, not that I haven’t wanted to be.

  I throw back the bottle of water, drinking it down, wishing it were alcohol instead. “Better slow yourself down there.” I look over and see Abby standing by my chair, pushing her boobs out to make her cleavage look even bigger than it is. I guess I wasn’t frank enough with her last night at the bar.

  “Can I help you?” I ask, with the water bottle up to my lips.

  “I think I lost something in the back room, but I can’t find it. Can you help me?” She’s eyeing me like I’m a piece of meat as she twirls her bleach blonde hair around her fingers.

  I laugh. “Really? Is that your way of trying to hook up with some guy you barely even know? And in a church, of all places. I might not be a saint, but I’m a man of morals. Maybe you should find some of that while you’re looking for whatever it is you’ve lost. Because I can’t help you find it.”

  She scoffs then stomps away, but not before I hear her say, “Well aren’t you a prick.”

  If a prick turns down a girl that’s been pounded more times than a basketball court, then by all means, call me a prick.

  I grab my phone out of my pocket to check the time. I click the lock button and my lock screen displays. Claire’s smiling face shines bright and a pang of sadness washes over me. I wish I hadn’t wanted to check the time.

  I miss her. I miss her more than any damn thing in this world. She was my world for nine incredible months. And even though I haven’t seen her since the day Jodi walked out on me, informing me Claire wasn’t mine, I still think about her every single day. I constantly wonder what she’s doing.

  I sit there, hands pressed against my eyes. This can’t be happening. This can’t be fucking happening right now. I feel sick, physically ill. I shake my head and stand up, determined that every bit of this is a nightmare.

  Pacing the length of the hallway, I replay the past two hours in my head. I never thought when I woke up this morning that I would be waking up and entering hell, but here I am. I’m in hell.

  “Slayter,” Jodi calls from the end of the hallway.

  I look up, my eyes bloodshot from the blow she just gave my heart. “What?” My voice is cold and harsh, filled with bitterness and anger.

  “I… I just wanted you to… I just thought you might want to see Claire one last time.” She looks down at the ground, seeming ashamed. She damn well should be. Letting me think for over nine months that little girl was mine is the absolute sickest joke anyone could ever play.

  She lied. Not only did she lie, but she toyed with my entire life.

  I run my hands through my hair, tugging at it. “Why are you pretending like you care? And why in the hell did you not tell me before I fell in love with her? Nine months and thirteen days, Jodi. Tell me, why?” I march closer to her.

  She looks up at me. Her brown hair thrown in a bun, her cheeks are tear stained, and her brown eyes red from crying. “I didn’t want this, Slayter. I didn’t—“

  “Don’t you say you didn’t want this,” I demand. “You played games with my life and hers. What? Would you have let me go years, a lifetime, thinking she was mine if you still wanted me?”

  She looks up at me, shaking her head. “I didn’t mean to fall in love with him. It just happened. Slayter, I never meant to hurt you. I only want the best for you.”

  “But you don’t want me to stay in my daughter’s life.”

  Her demeanor goes from guilty to heated in a mere second. “She’s not your daughter. She’s Marcu—“

  “Marcus’s. Yeah I fucking get it. I get that you’ve been letting me play daddy for nine months, and also letting him play daddy too. But I don’t believe it. I won’t believe she isn’t mine until I have proof. I demand a paternity test. And if she is my daughter, I will make your life hell. You understand me? I gave you everything. I promised I would do everything for Claire. For you. Yet, I’m the asshole in this situation. At least that’s what everyone will think. Isn’t it, Jodi? You’ll make yourself look like the victim and me, the bad guy.”

  She folds her arms in front of her body. “I’ll give you two minutes with Claire. After that, we’re leaving.”

  I take one final look at her before marching into the living room. I bend down and pick Claire up off the makeshift pallet she’s asleep on. Pulling her into me, I smell the lavender shampoo she always gets bathed in. I twirl her little brown ringlets around my finger, memorizing her every detail. Her raspy little laugh she gives when you tickle her toes. How she has the faintest dimple in her left cheek. “Hey, Claire Bear,” I whisper so only she can hear me. She squirms as she wakes up. “I want you to know I love you, little one. You were, and will always, be the single greatest thing to ever happen to me. If I never get to see you again, I just want you to know that you are loved.” I stop as my throat closes up with emotion. I kiss her forehead gently, hugging her for what could very well be the last time.

  She babbles in my arms as Jodi walks up to us. She holds out her hands to take Claire from me. “You don’t have to keep her from me.”

  “It’s not fair to her,” Jodi concedes.

  I kiss Claire one last time before handing her over to her mother. “What you did wasn’t fair,” I correct her. “But you selfishly made us both love each other for over nine months.”

  She sighs heavily and looks up at me before turning away to leave. My front door swings open and who can only be Marcus stands in the doorway. My anger boils. But, in an instant, my anger dissipates into absolute heartbreak as Claire looks at me and says for the very first, and possibly last, time, “Da Da.”

  I pinch the bridge of my nose as the memory floods me. Living with a memory is hard. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I just want to find her, take her, and never let her go. But I can’t. She’s not mine to take.

  Two weeks after Jodi left, I was given the news Claire wasn’t mine. That was the night I went to the bar, looking to drink away the pain.

  A throat clears beside me. I look to my right and see Charlie standing there. “Could you scoot over a bit?” She shoos her hands in the direction she wants me to move. I do, because even though I don’t want to, I kind of want her to sit by me. And I need the distraction from my thoughts. She is the perfect distraction, I must admit. “Thanks,” she says as she stands next to me.

  “I can’t believe you’re sitting by me.”

  She looks down the table, eyeing every occupied chair. “Didn’t really have a choice, now did I?”

  “Way to make a man feel good,” I respond.

  “Well,” she shrugs, “I try.” She sits down, scooting the chair up.

  She sips on her punch, and cuts her eyes to me. She looks as enthused about this thing as I am. “Having fun?”

  She laughs. “About as fun as one could have, I guess.”

  “I hear you,” I say. I can’t take my eyes off her. She’s stunning. Her blonde hair swooped back and up off her neck. The way her makeup makes her green eyes shine brighter than they already were. “It was good seeing you out last night.”

  “So you say.” She rolls her eyes as she takes a bite of a tortilla pinwheel.

  “I do say.” I smirk. “I’m glad you decided to come instead of staying home.”

  She shrugs. “It was for my sister. That’s all.”

  She goes back to picking at the food on her plate, and I continue watching her out of the corner of my eye. I can’t help it. She’s like a
magnet and I can’t help but move closer to her. To know her. Watch her. To be around her.

  The lights suddenly dim in the room, catching us off guard. I look up to see what’s going on, when a screen comes down from the ceiling with a projector shining directly at it. The atmosphere turns serious in an instant.

  The screech of a microphone cuts through the silence. “Hi everyone,” Lizzie starts. “I just want to thank you all for coming and celebrating this special day with Stetson and me. I can’t express how grateful we are to have all of you here. There are some very important people missing from this day, as you all know.” She takes a deep breath. “Stet’s parents passed away several years ago, and I know if they could be here, they would. I hope they approve of me.” She laughs sadly.

  I know they would approve. Lizzie has been nothing but good to Stetson since they’ve been together, and all my parents asked for was for us to find someone who was good to us. Stetson found that in Lizzie. Me? Yeah, I’m still coming up short.

  “I’ve never met them, but from what I can tell, they were incredible people who loved their sons endlessly. I know they raised an amazing man, who I get to spend the rest of my life with.”

  There’s an ache in my chest as the words, and the reality, set in. I’ve handled my parents’ death very well, considering. I’ve mourned, but I’ve moved on from the pain. I don’t dwell in it, because they wouldn’t want me to. They lived a life so full of energy, love, and passion. They’d want me to do the same, not stay stuck on their passing. It doesn’t mean the pain isn’t always there.

  “There’s one more person who isn’t here today,” she continues. “I am sure y’all noticed, but we didn’t have a ring bearer. I couldn’t fill a spot for someone who is absolutely irreplaceable. My nephew, Phoenix, was the light of my life, as well as for everyone who got the privilege to love him for the four short years we had him. I don’t want this day to be sad, but I couldn’t go through the most important day of my life without acknowledging one of the most important people in mine.” She stifles a cry. “This is for you, Phoenix. I know you’d be so proud of your mommy. I sure am.”