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“Oh. Did Maeve tell you what happened?”
Dixie smiled, widened her eyes, and lifted her eyebrow. “She didn’t need to.”
“So you heard it all?” I would have normally been embarrassed if there was any room for anything other than anger and a million and one questions right now.
She sat on an armchair next to the bed. “I won’t keep you long. I know we’ve already had our lecture this morning.”
“It wasn’t a lecture.”
“Oh, come on, Drake. I have a son almost your age. I know how men can be. You probably feel like women have been all up in your hair today.”
Humph. She had one thing right.
“Go on now. Just give me five minutes.” Her voice was melodic and sweet and had that special something that made it hard to say no.
But she wasn’t going to change my mind. Petulant as it was, I needed to run away right now. I needed space. I was suffocating.
She continued. “I just want to ask you why you think you don’t want to talk to your dad and why you don’t want him to get tested?”
Interesting word choice. “Why do I think I don’t want that? Well, I know I just don’t want the drama. Though it seems all for nothing right now since it brought a hell of a lot of drama my way anyway. So is that what you’re here to point out?” I wished I hadn’t sounded like such a little asshole but I still simmered. It was the first time that I could remember since being a kid that I didn’t seem to have a handle on my words.
She offered a one-syllable laugh. “Pzzt. No. Not at all. I just thought I’d come round and tell you the real reason you don’t want to meet your dad and have him be a part of your life right now.”
Great. Dixie just came home from some yoga session or something, and now she was reading my mind. A fucking Buddha.
Her eyes widened. “Child, don’t you give me that look…”
Damn, she was good. She saw right through my cynicism.
“Drake, you want control.” She gestured toward the bed. “Now you gonna sit down for a minute or are you gonna make me stand up?”
I sat.
“When Mitch got sick, my Lord, he tore up the flowerbeds. He had the pool redone. He redecorated this very pool house. He went on a rampage of projects. Project after project. I couldn’t help but want him to just settle down. Not only did I want more time with him, of course, he invited me to help him somewhat, but I also didn’t want a bunch of unfinished business around here reminding me he was gone. He, unlike you, was never gonna make it.”
Her gaze wandered the space in which we sat. It landed on a bright-red wall clock. She chuckled. “He bought that very clock as part of his project frenzy. And you know, even though the clock reminds me of him, I hate it. Uuu-gly.”
It was ugly.
“Anyway, I let him run with things for a few weeks. It didn’t take him long to mess this place up plenty. Finally, I sat him down, and we had a tête à tête. You know why he did it?”
She paused to see if I knew. I didn’t.
Dixie’s eyes were soft and warm. “He wanted control. He wanted control over something in the life that was slipping away. The life as he knew it. He had to hand over control of his health. Control over his company. Even, in some ways, control over his family because he knew the day was coming when I’d be one hundred percent in charge. Those projects were his to run. He was the boss. He was in control.”
A lump the size of an apple formed in my throat. Maybe she was right. Not maybe, probably she was right. Okay… she was right. I’d slowly been losing everything within my power. This was one thing, one big thing that I could control.
Dixie stood and beckoned me over. “Now come on over here and give me a hug before you leave. We’ll see you in a couple days.”
I hugged her, and the event was odd and comforting all at once. Dixie was just a small woman, but she had arms that could have fit around the world. Just like Maeve’s.
Maeve had wrapped her arms around me, and she was never letting go. She hugged me as I slept. Her arms had stretched far enough to hug me while I’d gone on world tour. Hell, they’d reach as far I could run, and I knew it. If there was a heaven, she’d probably still be hugging me in the clouds.
Suddenly, I didn’t want to leave anymore.
I did anyway.I left because, as Dixie had said, it was something I could control. In the midst of my tantrum, I hadn’t thought about the fact that I didn’t have a car here, and after talking to Dixie, I didn’t want to let Maeve think I wasn’t coming back. So I just grabbed my guitar, walked to the outer gate, and asked Sanchez to call me a cab.
Going back to my apartment wasn’t something I wanted even when I’d threatened it. It was lonely, empty, and had no soul. It had only ever felt alive when Maeve was in it, and alive was what I needed to feel right now.
