Authors: Leigh Jackson
The following Tuesday evening finds me throwing clothes around my room in hopes of unearthing the perfect outfit to wear for open mic at Sawyer’s. The weather has warmed up, resulting in a whole plethora of outfit choices revealing themselves to me. Clark and his wife Stephanie are coming to see me perform, and it will be my first time meeting her. To say that I’m nervous is a major understatement. While meeting Clark was nerve-wracking, I felt that on one level he was obligated to not hate me. That whole flesh of my flesh thing. But his wife is a whole different situation. She could very well hate me, and I don’t want to give a bad first impression if I can help it.
I finally settle on the same lacy skirt that I wore to the bar in Nashville, paired with a coral tank top. Avery tries to convince me to wear heels, but I don’t need to add worrying about busting my ass to the entirely too long list of worries that exists already. Instead I pair it with brown combat-style boots. It gives my outfit a bit of edge and badassery that I like.
I leave my long hair tumbling in curls down my back, and keep my makeup fairly natural. I do smoke up my eyes a bit, resulting in the green popping like it never has before. Tuck lets out a whistle as he strolls into my room.
“Damn, babe. You’re going to make me be a pervert in front of your dad and stepmom.” He stalks over to me and pulls me flush against his body, spanning his hands across my ass. I involuntarily grind my hips into his and laugh at the nefarious look that he gives me. I shake my head at what I know he wants.
“Please, Kor. Just one little taste. I swear I’ll make it good for you.” His blue eyes are pleading with me, and he’s giving me the look that he knows I find hard to resist.
“No, Tuck. I cannot meet Stephanie after we’ve been rolling around in the sheets. What if she can tell?”
“Who said anything about rolling around in the sheets, Kori?” And with that he pushes me against the wall and pins me with his legs. His hand skims down my waist and snakes under my skirt as he lifts my legs to wrap around his waist. His mouth finds the sweet spot on my neck and he massages it with his tongue and lips. I groan in frustration and desire as his fingers begin their assault under my scrap of panties. He plunges them into me and twirls my clit with his thumb. In no time at all, he has me right at the end of the cliff, and one more press of his thumb sends me spiraling over the edge. He lets me enjoy the waves of my orgasm then he straightens my skirt out and kisses me innocently on the lips. He steps back and evaluates my appearance.
“See, nobody can tell that I just had you moaning my name.”
I slap him in the chest as I check my appearance in the mirror. I straighten my hair and shirt and decide that nobody will be able to tell the naughty activity that I just indulged in with Tuck. I turn to shoo him out the door, smacking his ass as he goes.
I have just enough time to throw my essentials into my purse before the doorbell rings. I straighten my clothes one more time and go to answer it. Clark and I had decided that we would meet here, thinking that it would be easier to meet my stepmom in a calm environment. We have plans to go eat before heading to the bar for my performance. I pray that Stephanie isn’t uptight because our plans for the night are pretty low key. Not everybody enjoys hanging out in a dusty old bar listening to people sing, but Clark assured me that they will have fun. He seems to be laid back and fun-loving, so hopefully his wife is similar to him.
I throw the door open eagerly and am immediately grabbed into a soft, feminine hug. “Kori, I’m so glad to meet you! Clark has not stopped talking about you. Oh, you’re so beautiful. That is such a cute outfit.” Her words come tumbling out as fast as possible. I can tell she has one of those bubbly personalities.
I gracefully pull out of her hug and take in the woman who welcomed me so warmly. She’s about my height with blonde hair cut in a stylish bob. She is undeniably pretty and elegant, and I feel at ease in her presence.
“Hey, Stephanie,” I greet her. “It’s so good to finally meet you. Thanks for agreeing to come tonight.”
She waves my thanks away like a pageant queen. “It is my pleasure. I’m so excited to hear you sing. Clark says you’re really good.”
I laugh at her compliment. “He hasn’t heard me sing yet, so it will be a first for both of you. You might want to save that compliment in case you want to retract it.” I step aside so they can both come in. Clark pulls me into a warm hug and kisses me on the cheek. I make the necessary introductions between Tuck and Stephanie and lead them into the living room.
I quickly discover that Stephanie is quite possibly the easiest person to get along with in the world. She is spunky and witty and never seems to sit still. I can see the love flowing between Clark and her as if it is a tangible wave. She talks about their two sons with so much pride and love that I feel as if I know them. I can’t wait to meet them; I hope they welcome me into their family as openly as their mom and dad have.
We take our gathering out the door and down the road to Tallulah’s. Clark and Stephanie fall in love with the onion rings and burgers and make plans to come back to eat. My insides warm, thinking of the future with my family.
I clear my throat and bring up something that I’ve been wanting to discuss. “I would really love if you both could meet my grandparents. I have told them so much about you, Clark, that they feel as if they know you already.”
Clark nods his head in agreement. “Maybe next time we can meet them. I want to meet everybody who has had a hand in raising you, Kori. I want to see the people who have helped you become the strong woman that you are.”
I blush at his praise and walk to his side of the booth to give him a hug. He presses a kiss to my cheek and hugs me back. This is one thing that I love about Clark; he’s so demonstrative with his affection. It reminds me of how much I missed out on as a child, but it also gives me something to look forward to with him in my life.
We all push away from the table in order to make it to Sawyer’s in time for my performance. The plan is to meet Chase, Avery, and Chelsea there; all three of them are anxious to meet my dad and Stephanie. I’m finding myself excited to show them off.
The doorman at Sawyer’s waves us through without having to pay a cover. Tuck laughs and whispers in my ear, “You ran up such a huge bar tab that you’ll probably never have to pay a cover again.” I elbow him to shut up and laugh when my guitar case catches him in the gut, causing him to double over.
We fight our way through the crowd and locate our crew at our usual table. I make the introductions, and we all settle in to wait for my performance. The time passes quickly as my friends attempt to embarrass me by telling Clark and Stephanie every semi-humiliating thing that has ever happened to me. Avery has tears rolling down Clark’s face as she tells him about the time that we all snuck out of the house in high school to spray paint on the school’s field house a slur about this guy who had been making our lives miserable. Chelsea wound up freaking out so much that she misaimed her spray paint can and wound up painting my face instead. I flip her off and swear retribution.
My time to perform is finally here, so I grab my guitar and get a quick good luck kiss from Tuck. I make my way to the stage amidst louder applause than usual thanks to my expanded cheering section. I step into my familiar spot behind the microphone and strum nervously on my guitar.
“Hey guys. Tonight I’m taking us back a few years and singing “When Dolphins Cry” by Live.” I always try to keep my introductions short. People come to hear people sing, not talk. I start the familiar tune and let the euphoria of performing wash over me. This is one of my favorite songs of all time, and I love to sing it. It’s a song that is about sex, which is probably weird to sing with my dad and stepmom here, but they’ll just have to learn to accept me the way that I am. The song is originally sung by a guy, so I do change up a couple lyrics to fit the fact that I’m a girl. I give it my own sound and hope that the crowd likes what I do. I catch Tuck’s eye several times while I’m singing; he knows that I’m singing this song to him. He winks at me to let me know that he understands. When I finish, I receive the loudest applause that I’ve ever gotten at open mic night.
I exit the stage riding the biggest high of my life and am shocked when Kai spins me around and pushes me back toward the spotlight. It appears that I’m singing another song. I quickly run through a mental list of songs and decide to sing the same one I did in Nashville. I haven’t sung it for open mic here before, so it will be new for everybody but Tuck and Chase.
I launch straight into The Civil Wars’ “The One That Got Away”. I pour every ounce of passion into it, and I’m struck numb somewhere in the middle of it. I realize beyond a shadow of a doubt that this is what I am supposed to do. I vow right then to do everything I can to make it in the music business. I have to find a band and quit playing open mics. I want to move on to bigger and better things; I just pray that all of the new people in my life will support me and be a part of my journey.
The song ends to applause and a standing ovation. I depart the stage once again, this time with tears in my eyes. I compose myself before I make it back to our table, where I’m passed around and given hugs by all those whom I love.
My dad gives me the biggest hug of all. “I’m so proud of you, baby girl. You are phenomenal.”
“Thanks, Dad.” I whisper back. I feel him still in my arms. I’ve never called him dad before, but it just felt right. In the short time that I’ve known him, he’s already become more of a father to me than John ever was. He gives me an extra squeeze.
“Thank you for that. You have no idea how much that means to me.”
We pull apart and look around the table to see everybody staring at us. Stephanie is dabbing her eyes with a napkin and even Avery looks touched. Tuck grabs me by the waist and tugs me into his lap.
“A toast,” he proclaims. We all reach for our drinks and lift them in the air. “To Kori and her new family.”
18
Kori
“You ready for this?” Tuck asks me as I hop around my room pulling on my favorite pair of Chucks.
I shoot him a look as he stands in my doorway. His fingers are curved around the top of the doorframe and his jeans hang low on his hips. I catch a glimpse of the waistband of his boxer briefs. Calvin Klein. Yum.
“Yes, I am. Now quit making me nervous!” Today is an extremely important day for me. I have an audition with a band. A real, honest to goodness band that is actually really, really good. Their lead singer ditched them to pursue the honest career of accounting, so they are in search of a new front man. Or in my case, front woman. Apparently somebody told them about me, so they called me up and asked me to audition. I’ve been walking on cloud nine ever since I got the call.
I straighten up as I finally get my shoes on. “How do I look?” I smooth down my outfit. I’m wearing a black mini skirt with a plunging, fitted white tshirt on top. My hair is down in its normal curly style, but I did amp up my make up a bit and accented my eyes with a smoky look.
Tuck lets his eyes drink me in hungrily. I blush under his scrutiny as he licks his lips. Before he has time to answer, Avery and Chelsea stick their heads in to wish me good luck. Chelsea lets out a wolf whistle as Avery scowls at me.
“That’s what you’re wearing?”
“Gee, thanks for you support, Avery. Whatever would I do without you?” I sarcastically bite back.
She has the good grace to look chagrined. “Sorry, you look hot. But couldn’t you wear some heels? Show off those sexy legs that you’ve been blessed with.”
I roll my eyes. Avery is the fashion police in our house. She has always taken it as a personal insult if we aren’t cramming our feet into the torture devices that she calls shoes. I have nothing against heels, but I prefer to be comfortable. If these guys are going to let me be in their band, then they’re just going to have to accept me as I am.
“She looks perfect. Leave her alone, Avery.” Tuck always has my back, even when it’s against my best friend. That’s just one more reason why I love him.
I shoot him a beaming smile and give Avery the finger in response to her ribbing. I waltz by them and press a quick kiss to Tuck’s mouth, which he reciprocates by pulling me toward him. His hands cup my ass and he deepens the kiss. I melt into him as I savor the contact, but I break away before either of us allows it to get too far. I have to go to my audition.
“Thanks, Tuck. Bye, y’all. See you later.” I wave to them as I head out the door. All three of them shout good luck wishes to me as I pull the door shut behind me.
The town the band is based out of is located about an hour north of me. I have to drive through the town my dad lives in, which works out perfectly since he wanted me to stop by to see him before my audition. He warned me that I would need to allow myself an extra hour at his house. I must admit that I’m curious as to what it is he wants.
I pull into his driveway thirty minutes later and walk to his door. I grin as my youngest brother, Micah, jerks the door open. Zack, Micah, and I have all really bonded since we discovered each other. I never realized how lonely I was until I became surrounded by people who love me.
“Kori! You’re finally here. I’ve been waiting forever. Hurry up, come inside!” His exuberance is hilarious to witness.
I follow him into the now-familiar living room and find the other three members of my new family. My dad stands and pulls me into a hug.
“You look great, Kor. Like a true rock star.” I just shake my head and grin at his description. I greet Stephanie and Zack and look toward my dad with an expectant expression.
“So, what’s up? Why did you want me to come over?”
Dad has a shocked look on his face. “What?” he gasps out. “I can’t get you to come by to wish you good luck before your big audition?” I narrow my eyes at him and tap my foot impatiently. “Okay, okay. You got me. Sit down and close your eyes,” he instructs me.
I sit on the couch between Zack and Micah and nervously close my eyes. Within moments, something heavy is sitting in my lap.
“Open your eyes,” Micah instructs.
My eyes pop open and I gasp in shock. In my lap I hold a guitar. And it’s not just any old guitar. It’s a Les Paul Standard. I look up at Dad in shock. He nods at me and smiles.
“Consider it twenty-three years’ worth of birthday and Christmas presents. And it’s an early graduation present.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “Dad, it’s too much. I can’t.”
Dad squats down in front of me and tucks a curl behind my ear. It’s a gesture that’s filled with love and makes tears prick in my eyes. He and Tuck both have a habit of doing that, and I love that the two men in my life look out for me.
“Kori, I never knew that my life was lacking anything until you came along. All four of us love you so much, and we want you to have this. You’re going to go so far in your life and your music, and you need a kick ass guitar to go along with you.”
“Thank you so much,” I whisper as I wrap my arms around him. I motion with my arm for Stephanie, Zack, and Micah to join our hug, and the warmth of my family washes over me. We break apart laughing when Zack demands for me to play for them.
I look around the room and spot an amp already set up and ready to go. I walk to it and plug my beautiful new guitar in. I can’t believe that this is actually mine. The wood grain on it is tiger striped and fades into black around the edges. It’s exactly what I would have picked out. I take a moment to tune it and begin playing the familiar notes to AC/DC’s “Back in Black”. My dad gets a big kick out of that; apparently he was a huge AC/DC fan back in the day.
I spend the next twenty minutes running through a repertoire of requests from my small audience. Finally, I notice the time and realize that I need to get going if I’m going to make it to my audition. I thank my family once again and gather my new guitar and amp. I lovingly place the guitar into its case and gently close the lid.
“What are you going to name it?” Dad questions.
I smile at his query. He loves the fact that my beloved Hummingbird is named Patsy. “I think I’ll call this one Lucy.”
Dad looks at me questioningly. “Short for Lucille?” I knew that he would automatically get my reference. I hope that people don’t think of me as presumptuous, naming my guitar after B.B. King’s. It has a special meaning to me because my dad is a huge blues fan, and B.B. King is one of his favorites.
He nods his head in agreement. “I couldn’t have named her better myself. Call me after your audition and let me know how it goes.” I assure him that I will as I load my Bronco with my newly acquired instrument as I continue on my way to my audition.
Thirty minutes later, I nervously park in front of a two-story house in a middle-class neighborhood of the city. The yard is neat, and the house is welcoming. It looks nothing like I expected. I sit still for a few minutes as I try to decide which guitar to take. I quickly make up my mind and grab both of them. I leave the amp as I’m certain they will have one that I can plug into.
I resemble a packhorse as I trudge up the walkway and up the steps of the porch. I rap my knuckles on the door and wait for somebody to let me in. The door is quickly opened by a girl about my age and I’m ushered inside.
“You must be Kori,” the girl declares. “I’m Chrissy, Brody’s girlfriend. The guys are back here.”
I follow her through the house into what appears to have once been a den. It’s been turned into a rehearsal studio, complete with upholstered walls and a plethora of pricey instruments. Three guys are lounging on a well-worn couch, and they simultaneously turn and look at me with interest.
I set my guitars on the floor beside me and walk toward them. “Hi, I’m Kori O’Malley,” I state as I shake their hands.
“Chad Jennings,” a red haired guy with muscular arms informs me. He looks an awful lot like Prince Harry. “I’m the drummer.”
A guy with a cleanly shaven head shakes my hand. He has absolutely no hair on top of his head, but he is sporting a full beard. His arms are covered in a colorful array of tattoos. “I’m Clint Martens, bass player.” I’m not surprised to discover that he plays bass. He definitely has the look.
The remaining guy offers me his hand. He has black, curly hair and chocolate brown eyes. He is so adorable that he makes me want to put him in my pocket and take him home, in a completely nonsexual manner of course. There’s just something about him that’s endearing. “I’m Brody Turner, keyboard.”
I give each of them a nod as the introductions are completed. “You ready?” Chad asks.
“Yes. Do you guys want me to do acoustic or electric first?”
Chad seems to be the leader of the three of them, so he answers me. “Do us a song with your acoustic, then your electric.”
I walk to the center of the room with my guitar in hand. I settle the strap across my shoulder and take a deep breath. I begin playing a song that is an original for me. I let the words resonate through me as I don’t just sing them, I feel them. I sing to these three guys that I have just met, and I hope that they can tell that I’m giving them a glimpse of my soul as the words pour out of my mouth.
I let you in, took a chance, took a leap, scared to death. I hit the ground, you didn’t run. Picked me up, healed my wounds, now I’m whole.
The song is gritty and bluesy, but I put a bit of a rock feel to it. Chad, Clint, and Brody don’t look repulsed by it, so I’m hopeful. I finish the song and allow the last sounds to die away before I move to set Patsy aside. I chanced a glance at the guys as I awaited the commentary. Clint was the first to speak.
“Did you write that?”
I nod my head in the affirmative.
“I liked it,” he states. “Show us what you can do with an electric.”
“Do you have an amp I can borrow? Mine is in my truck, but I can get it if I need to.” He gestures toward an amp for me to plug into. I run my fingers over my new guitar. I am eager to play this. While I love acoustic guitar passionately, I also love electric. I love the freedom that it gives you to personalize a song in so many ways. Playing an electric is sheer fun for me.
I had decided to play a cover on the electric since I hadn’t written any songs specifically for the electric. I would have to tweak some of my current originals to adjust them for the electric.
I do a couple of warm-up rifts before I broke into my song. It wasn’t long before the notes to Three Days Grace’s “Over and Over” are pounding throughout the room. I smile to myself. I fucking love this guitar.
When I’m finished, I once again set my guitar down and look toward the band. They glance at each other and nod.
“You’re in,” Chad informs me.
“Oh my gosh!” I have to check myself before I start gushing. I’m in a band; I’m way too cool to gush.
We spend the next two hours discussing the logistics of the band and practicing some of the songs that they sing. I quickly discover that Chad is a talented songwriter, which saves me from having to rely on mine. We sing some covers, but we mainly focus on originals. There’s a good mix of electric and acoustic, and I genuinely like the sound of the band. They have a bit of a rock and blues sound, which I have always tended to gravitate toward. After our successful practice, we make plans to practice again the following week in preparation for an upcoming gig. I am giddy with excitement. This is a huge step for me in the long road toward becoming a professional. Nothing can ruin this day for me.
When I pull into my driveway, I notice several cars parked in our yard. I had called Tuck, my dad, and my grandparents as soon as I left the band and told them my great news. I shake my head as I realize they’ve all shown up at my house to celebrate. As I open the door, everybody begins screaming at me in excitement. I’m passed from person to person and hugged more than I can ever remember. All of my favorite people are here: Tuck, Avery, Chelsea, Chase, Gran, Gramps, Dad, Stephanie, Zack, and Micah. When I finally end up in Tuck’s arms, he pulls me close and kisses me passionately.
“I’m so proud of you, Kor. You’re going to be great.” He leans down and kisses me again. “Tonight, I’m going to fuck a rock star.” He chuckles at my reaction to his crudeness. Then he notices my eyes darken with desire, and he sucks in a ragged breath.
“My first groupie,” I tease.
“First and only,” he growls out.
I close my eyes and thank God for bringing this man to me. I know I don’t deserve him, but I’m thankful every day that he saw past all of my flaws and gave me a chance to love him.
Everybody eventually calms down enough for normal conversation to flow around the room. They all want details of my audition. Chelsea gasps when I describe Chad as Prince Harry. Avery and I laugh because we all know how she has always been in love with him. Everybody wants to see my new guitar and to hear me play it, so I oblige them. My dad’s face is filled with pride as he watches me play. I blink back the tears that are once again forming in my eyes. For somebody who makes it a point not to cry, I’ve cried more in the past six months that I have in the past six years. Unlike times prior, these are happy tears.
My happy tears are quickly dried up when my phone rings. I glance at the screen and frown at the strange number. I answer it uncertainly.
“Hello?”
An unfamiliar voice asks, “Yes, is this Miss Kori Harper?”
My body clenches up at the mention of my former last name. Tuck looks at me with worry evident in his eyes.
“It’s Kori O’Malley now. Who is this?”
“Ms. O’Malley, this is Officer Atkinson at the State Penitentiary. I’m calling about your father, John Harper.”
Acid rises up in my throat and I swallow to keep it pushed down. How could this perfect day be ruined so quickly?
“He’s not my father. He was my stepfather,” I harshly inform him.
He pauses to regroup. “I was unaware. However, that does not change the fact that you are listed as his next of kin. Ms. O’Malley, I regret to inform you that your stepfather died this afternoon.”
I have such a hard grip on my phone that my knuckles are screaming at me to relax. I sink to the couch and hang my head onto my knees. I don’t know how I’m supposed to react to this news. Am I supposed to cry that the man whom I spent my entire life thinking was my father is dead? I don’t know the correct protocol for grief when your stepfather, who just so happened to murder your mother and shoot you, dies in prison. Maybe relief is appropriate. Is that what I’m feeling? I’m fairly certain that I’m numb right now. I can’t feel my legs and my lips are tingly. I am vaguely aware that the man on the phone is repeatedly calling my name.
“What did you say?” I croak.
“I know this is a shock to you, ma’am, but we need you to come down tomorrow and we can get everything processed. We can make arrangements to have his body transported home for his funeral.”
At the word funeral, my mind springs back to life. I’m instantly reminded of the last funeral that I attended. It was seven years ago and we were burying my mother. My mother, whom John Harper murdered. I stood at her graveside, fresh out of the hospital, with a bandage covering the bullet hole in my side that John Fucking Harper had put there. My hand unconsciously moves to rub the scar on my side. I refuse to attend his funeral. Hell, I refuse to have anything to do with it.
“No,” I blurt out.
“I’m sorry, Ms. O’Malley. I don’t understand.”
“No,” I clarify, “I will not come down there. I don’t care that he’s dead. I don’t care about him. Dump his body in a fucking cotton field for all that I care. Call his next of kin if you want to. He’s no kin of mine.”
“But Ms. O’Malley,” the officer starts back up.
I hang up the phone before he can finish whatever it was that he was going to say. I am faintly aware of everybody in my living room apprehensively looking at me. I ignore them all as I walk into the kitchen. My body moves automatically with no direction from me as I go to the cabinet above the refrigerator. I reach in and grab a bottle of whiskey as I head out the back door.
I numbly sit in my lounge chair and stare up at the clouds. I unscrew the cap on the bottle and lift it to my lips. I don’t even flinch as the first of the amber-colored liquid fires down my throat. I am numb. Uncomfortably so.
I faintly register the fact that Tuck has joined me outside. He doesn’t say a word to me; he just sits beside me as I continue to pour whiskey down my throat. I search my brain for an appropriate feeling for me to have. I’m still not confident as to what reaction I’m supposed to have to this news. Emotions are churning through my insides like a hurricane. Anger, relief, numbness, shock, grief. They all want their pound of flesh as they each fight for dominance in my mind.
“You want to talk about it?” Tuck breaks the silence.
“Nope.” I take another swallow.
“Kori, you can’t let him do this to you again. He’s winning again. Don’t let him win.”
My mind reels as his words sink in. I realize that Tuck is right; I’m letting him win. Then the numbness sets back in and I don’t care. I don’t care that I’m wallowing. I don’t care that I’m ignoring the numerous people in my living room who came to celebrate my accomplishment. I don’t care that sitting outside drinking whiskey in the middle of the afternoon is unhealthy. I don’t care that my stepfather is dead. I bring the whiskey bottle back up to my mouth and take another swallow.
“Dammit, Kori! I’m not going to let you do this again.” He jerks the bottle out of my hand and hurls it across the back yard. It hits the side of the shed with a smash. I continue to stare numbly up into the clouds. I can feel the frustration emanating from Tuck. I hate that I’m hurting him, but I’m too numb to even care.
“Kori.” The gentle sternness of my grandpa’s voice reverberates through my body. He walks over to my chair and looks down at me. His face is filled with sadness and understanding. He lowers himself onto the edge of my chair and holds his arms out. I sit up as if in a daze and allow him to pull me close to him. I breathe in the comforting smell of him. He’s always smelled like motor oil and tobacco; it’s a combination that is uniquely Gramps.
“Talk to me, Monkey. What are you thinking right now?”
I shake my head stupidly. “I don’t know, Gramps. What am I supposed to feel? Should I feel guilty for not feeling sad?
His weathered hand pats mine as he mournfully looks at me. “I can’t tell you how you’re supposed to feel, Kori. I’m not sad that bastard is dead. He murdered my daughter and almost killed you. He took two of the greatest things away from me – my daughter and your innocence. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive him for that. Not everything in life has a happy fairy tale ending, so I think that as long as you’re happy with the way you feel, don’t feel as if you need to justify yourself to anybody.”
His words make sense to me as I nod my head in understanding. He squeezes my hand and heaves his body out of the chair. He makes his way back into the house, leaving me alone with my thoughts. My mind trails back to what Tuck just told me, that I was allowing John to win. I become pissed off as I realize that Tuck was right. I put the past and John behind me when I confronted him on my birthday. I had sworn to myself that I was finished letting the past dictate my life. I’m not saying that I was going to call the prison back and tell them to ship John’s body home for me to give him a loving funeral, but I wasn’t going to drink myself into a stupor. I shake my head to clear the whiskey haze as I make my way back into the kitchen. I can hear everybody still in the living room. I have no clue where Tuck disappeared to, and I’m disappointed in myself for my reaction.
I grab a bottle of water and chug it down, hoping to flush the whiskey from my body. I no longer have any desire to drink away this current problem. My body flushes with shame as I recall my response to the phone call. This was such a perfect day, and I allowed John Fucking Harper to ruin it.
I walk into the living room and conversation screeches to a halt. Everybody looks at me with worried eyes. I nervously chew on my bottom lip. I automatically search the room for Tuck, but he is nowhere to be found. My stomach churns from the whiskey and nerves. What if he left me? Maybe he finally decided he is better off without me and all of my idiotic drama. I have to get this out of the way so that I can find him.
“I’m sure you all figured out that John died. Obviously I got a bit upset by it, and I am so sorry about that. I’m fine now, so let’s please not let this ruin our day.” I shut my eyes and rub the bridge of my nose. I open my eyes and realize that Clark, my real dad, is standing in front of me. He grabs me and wraps me into a back-breaking hug.
“I love you, Kori. I’m always here for you.” I reciprocate the hug as I tentatively wrap my arms around his waist and hug. All my life I craved love from my father, who was a monster. I never knew that such a wonderful man was out there who would love me the way that a father is supposed to.
“Thanks, Dad. I love you too.” I pull back from him and search the room for Tuck once more. I turn back to my dad and he answers the question that he sees in my eyes.
“He’s in your room.”
I nod gratefully at him and give everybody a small smile. “I’ll be right back.”
I feel as if I’m going to face a firing squad as I march down the hall toward my room. I don’t know what Tuck is feeling right now. It’s fitting since I’m not too certain about my own emotions at the moment either. I gently push open the door and find Tuck sitting on my bed. He looks up at me, and I rush to him and throw my arms around him.
“Are you okay, Kori?” Tuck uses one of his big hands to brush the hair out of my face, and he looks into my eyes. My breath catches as I look at the love reflected back at me.
“I will be. I’m so sorry for freaking out like that. I was caught by surprise, and then I was so mad. Then I was guilty and confused.”
“Why are you confused?”
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about John dying, Tuck. I hate, um hated, him. Should I grieve him like a normal person? Truthfully, I’m relieved that he’s dead. And that makes me feel guilty.” I look up at him, worried that he will look at me with disgust.
“Kori, your relationship with John is much more complicated than a normal stepfather and daughter relationship. He abused you and your mom your whole life, then he murdered your mom and almost killed you. You have every right in the world to hate him and to be angry. I’m not going to go all Dr. Phil on you and tell you that you have to forgive him, because each person is different. I think that relief is a perfectly normal reaction, just like guilt.” He hugs me tightly to him. “Just don’t shut down on me again. Don’t drown yourself in a bottle. Talk to me, babe. We’re a team.”
“I’m relieved that I don’t have to hate him anymore. Even though I thought I had put all of that behind me, I realize that a part of me was holding on. I’m sure I will always hold on to an extent, but it’s not strangling me now. I think I’m going to be okay, Tuck.”
“Of course you will, Kori. You’re so strong. And just look out that door at all the people who love you. Every one of them is here because you’re important to them, and they want to share your joys and sorrows with you. You’re not alone anymore, Kori. You’ve let all of these people in.” He grins down at me triumphantly, and I can’t help the smile that I give him back.
“It’s all because of you, Tuck. You taught me how to live, not just exist.”
“We taught each other, Kori.” And with that, he plants a scorching kiss on my lips. He kisses away all the confusion that I’ve experienced today, all of the anger and guilt and sadness.
“Now let’s go celebrate your new rock star status.”