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Damn that Ace. Now he’s really gone and fucked us all.
The next show comes and there’s still no sign of Ace. From the information that Jane Ann was able to dig up, the woman who raised Ace passed away last night in a hospital in Columbus, Ohio. Ace was there when she died, and it’s assumed that we’re going to have to cancel the next few shows to give him a chance to grieve the loss and attend her funeral.
As for the rest of us, we’re stuck in limbo, waiting to see when Ace will return. Jane Ann has made several attempts to reach Ace, but all of her calls have gone unanswered.
I’ve been cooped up in my hotel room for days, which isn’t a good thing for me. It allows me too much time for my mind to wander and dwell on people in my past. The one person who’s been on my mind since the day I found out that Ace’s foster mother passed is my own mother.
Seeing what Ace is going through and how that shit’s being publicized in the tabloids actually makes me feel sorry for him. I know firsthand how much it hurts to lose a parent, so I can sympathize with what he’s going through. It also reminds me that life is precious and that there are no do-overs when it comes to people you love dying.
I haven’t seen my mom in nearly five years, but she’s the only one I’ve remained in contact with from my old life. My calls home are sporadic and short, but it’s nice to know that she’s okay. As much as I love Mom, it hurts too much to speak with her because I can’t stop myself from thinking of Dad when I do. But it’s times like these when I just need to hear the sound of her voice.
I grab my cell off the nightstand and dial the number to Mom’s candy shop, where she answers on the third ring. “Best Candies.”
I lick my dry lips. “Hey, Mom.”
“Jared.” The way she says my name it nearly sounds like a sigh of relief. She does that every time I call, like she’s been waiting since the last time we spoke to see if I would call again. “It’s so good to hear your voice. How are you?”
“I’m good. Busy, but good.”
“Being busy is always good. It tends to keep your mind occupied,” she says.
I know there’s so much more she wants to say to me, but she’s learned over the past few years that if she starts digging too much, or mentions London, those are the triggers that cause me to hang up. That completely makes me feel like an asshole. My life shouldn’t be this way, but it is. It’s royally screwed up, and I’m too much of a coward to face all the people that I’ve caused so much pain.
“I’ve heard your band mentioned a lot. What’s going on with your bandmate? Looks like he flipped out during a performance,” Mom says, bringing me out of my thoughts.
I sigh. “Apparently his foster mother was in the hospital, and he took off to see her. It was honestly a good thing he walked off stage, because he went right to her and was able to tell her good-bye before she passed.”
Mom’s quiet for a few minutes. “Not everyone is so lucky.”
I swallow down the lump in my throat. I wish to God that I would’ve gotten a chance to see Dad and talk to him one last time. There were so many things that I wanted to say to him—tell him how much I loved him and what he meant to me—but I never got the chance. Ace is lucky, and he should count his blessings that he was so fortunate.
“Does this mean the band will be taking some time off?” she asks. “I would love for you to come home. I know Wes would—”
“Wait,” I interrupt her. “Does he know we’ve kept in contact all this time?”
“Of course not. I haven’t told anyone like you asked. I know there’s some bad blood there, and that’s between the two of you, although I wish you’d come home and work things out with him. He’s the only family that you’ve got left other than me, and I would like to see the two of you become close again.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Wes will never forgive me for what I did. We both know that. He said so himself.”
“You might be surprised at how things change over time. If you never try to make amends, how do you know what another person is willing to forgive?”
I sit on the edge of my bed, and my eyes drift up to the ceiling. Tears attempt to push their way through, but I fight like hell to stay strong and not allow my emotions to overtake me.
Am I sorry for what went down the last night I s
aw Wes and London? Absolutely. Can I take back what I did? No, but I wish to God that I could. I never meant for things to get out of control, and I will never forgive myself for what I did, so how can either of them?
Leaving everything behind was the best thing I could do. It was the only way that I knew to force myself out of their lives—by not being around them, not giving them a chance to forgive me.
It took me at least a year and a half before I could even call my own mother on the phone after what I did on the day the University of Tennessee decided to revoke my scholarship. I’m so ashamed of myself for everything that happened between London, Wes, and me after the school took what little bit of normalcy I had left—not to mention wrecked all the plans I had for my life—away from me.
I didn’t think it was possible for my mother to love me anymore after that, but I was wrong.
“Will you think about it?” Mom asks.
“What?” I ask.
“Coming home. If you’ll have time off, please consider it. I would love to see you.”
