I hear Charlie in the background. “Darlene, baby, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
She sobs into my stepdad, muffling her sounds. He takes the phone.
“Livi, you okay? Do we need to come to Detroit?” he asks sincerely.
“I’m okay, Charlie. It’s all okay. Look, I need to get to bed. I have to work in the morning. Take care of Mom and tell her I’ll call in a few days. Love you both.”
I get off the phone, feeling relieved that I have no secrets with my mom. Guilt washes over me that I dropped all this on her now, though. I planned to take my secret to the grave until all this happened with my dad.
Looking up at the entertainment center, my eyes immediately land on one of the few pictures Hendrix has in his home.
Getting up, I pat Floyd on her head as I make my way to the photograph. Pulling it down, I walk back over to the couch, clutching it in my hands. Sitting down, I trace the woman’s face in front of me. Her three boys who are now grown men surround her in the picture.
There is sincerity in the eyes of Janis Caldwell. There is a silent strength in her features. She is a woman who owned her life, her problems, and overcame them. I rub my butt.
‘Own it, overcome it,’ I think to myself.
I continue to stare at the picture. Three boys. The woman in front of me raised three amazing boys into strong, loyal men.
Hendrix’s words replay in my head, “Livi, like it or not, you’re my family. I’ll fight just as hard for you as I will them. Fuck, harder if I have to.”
I’m his family. He will fight for me.
Tears slip down my face. Happy tears. I have found exactly where I belong.
I’m so lost in my thoughts I don’t hear the noise behind me. Before I can react, Hendrix is on his knees in front of the couch. He pushes Floyd aside with his knee as he cups my face, wiping my tears with his thumbs.
“Livi, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
“She was beautiful, Hendrix.” I smile as a hiccup escapes me from crying.
His eyes move to the picture in my hand. “She was,” he replies, continuing to wipe my tears and eyeing me cautiously.
“I’m crazy, Hendrix.”
“Fuckin’ crazy, Livi,” he agrees as I smile at him.
“Your mom … she calms me. She comforts me. I like having this picture here.”
“Livi, babe, don’t take this wrong. I’m … um … glad my mom can comfort you when I’m not here. Could you maybe share with me what you needed comforting from, though, ‘cause my heart is beating out of my chest here, and I’m lost.”
He takes the picture and sets it on the coffee table behind him. Then, he moves to sit beside me on the couch and wraps his arms around me, pulling me onto his lap. I put my hands on either side of his face. I drink him in. I memorize this moment.
“I love you, Hendrix Caldwell. You are strong, kind, loyal, and sexy. You are a good man, a man the woman in that picture loved, adored, and a man she would be proud of. You, Hendrix Caldwell, make me a better person, a stronger person.”
“Livi, I came home early, and you’re crying on the couch. My mom was the best—I’ll give you that—but why did you say she calms and comforts you? What happened while I was at the bar after you came home from work?”
I blow out a breath, knowing that I am, indeed, crazy. Fuckin’ crazy, as Hendrix would say. I giggle at the thought of the word.
“Babe, seriously, it’s not good for my ego to have you crying or laughing when you’re in my arms.”
“You make me smile. You make me happy.” I look at the love shining in his eyes for me.
“Good to know. What made you cry, Livi?”
“I told my mom about … you know … Bryce.”
“Good, now that the secret is out, it’s a weight lifted off you. I don’t want anything weighing my girl down.”
“We got ya covered, girl. Go get your dad settled and spend some time with Broody. Although, I don’t think he’s Broody anymore. He needs a new nickname.” Tabby laughs as Toni smiles at me.
Once Dad was stabilized, they sent him through rehabilitation while Hendrix helped me to research and find a home that would fit my dad and not be too far away from me. He is going to be transferred to a facility just outside of Detroit next week.
Hendrix and I have settled into our new routine. It’s been almost two months, and I am finally feeling like everything is solid.
Jagger and Morrison have stepped up at the bar, and as promised, Hendrix doesn’t work Thursdays anymore. He doesn’t want to shake it for anyone, but me, and I’m A-okay with that. He alternates Sundays so we can have a day together, and I am still at the bar on Tuesday, Friday, and Saturday nights, because it is a way to help Hendrix, earn tips, and still spend time with him.