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Homegoing by Janae Keyes (2)

Chapter Two

Liam

Seeing her, that took me somewhere. I wasn’t sure where, but somewhere. I hadn’t laid eyes on Bethany in years, not since she’d left after our break-up. Everyone had expected us to be together forever, high school sweethearts and all, but that wasn’t the case. I comforted myself with thoughts of maybe it just wasn’t meant to be.

Bethany and I were so different, and still appeared to be so. Bethany had big city dreams of becoming a surgeon and living this lifestyle that wasn’t anything like what I wanted. I didn’t mind living in our hometown. In fact, I wanted to be a mechanic just like my dad. My goal was to eventually take over his auto repair shop. I wanted to work hard, buy myself a decent house, and have a family. Bethany wasn’t interested in that.

I peeked around into the office.

She was still the sexiest woman I’d ever laid eyes on, her smooth skin held a soft, vibrant glow, and those blue eyes made me weak to her. At every movement of her body, it was like watching a masterpiece of sensuality. Her luscious blonde hair was pulled into a messy bun on the top of her head, very unlike Bethany who insisted on being put together at all times.

Though, as attracted as I was to the beautiful girl who left my life years ago, I still held an anger toward her. A year ago, Mr. Cross had come to me to tell me of his sickness and he would be starting chemo. He knew it would be hard on him and asked for my help, I offered it wholeheartedly. Mr. Cross was like a second dad to me. He had stage four lung cancer but was determined to beat it.

Months passed, I expected Bethany to come home, to be at her dad’s side while he went through treatment. Mr. Cross would talk about Bethany, and how he spoke to her at least once a week, but it wasn’t the same. Her dad was fucking dying, and she hadn’t tried to come home. Most people–those with a solid conscious, would rush home at the news. Bethany, not a peep.

I turned back to the counter and got my glass, washed it, and put it away. The summer temperatures in NorCal were not joke and I’d already spent my entire morning and afternoon at the shop working with my dad. Mr. Cross had given me one final instruction before he died. He told me no matter what, keep the bar running as if he’d never gone. I intended to do just that.

Frustrated groans came from the office. I went straight to the door and knocked lightly before I swung the door open to find an agitated Bethany, her hands filled with paperwork.

“I can’t believe he never told me things were so bad,” she huffed as she held up the papers I knew were credit card statements and bills. “I’m flabbergasted.”

“Hey, hey! Slow it down with those big words there, Girlie,” I joked. Though it didn’t seem my joke went over well as she turned the chair to me. Her face was twisted in anger.

“Dad was in serious debt. He was barely keeping this place running,” she placed her elbows on the desk in frustration, tossed the papers down, and leaned forward to rub her temples with the tips of her fingers.

“I know,” I expressed with a regretful sigh.

When Mr. Cross had gotten too sick to come into the bar, I started taking care of paying bills and the upkeep, only to find he was in a mountain of debt. I tried to help, but Mr. Cross shut me down, and as my name wasn’t on anything, I couldn’t do anything. The only other person with that power was Bethany, her name was on everything.

“Fuck! I’m going to have to call the bank in the morning to settle some of this shit out. I need to see what his life insurance policy is like. I know I need a nice chunk to pay for the funeral, and then there is all this debt. Oh Dad, why?” Her face went into her hands.

Bethany was one of those people who stayed strong for everyone around her, but for once, she needed someone to be strong for her.

“I think you need a drink,” I expressed.

“Fuck yes, I do.” she admitted before growling into her hands. Her growls weren’t just of frustration. I could hear the sadness she had for the loss of her dad.

“Vodka with a twist of lime?” I questioned, expertly remembering her drink of choice. She nodded in response. Her face was still buried deep in her hands.

I left the office behind and strolled behind the counter of the bar. Crossroads Bar was a staple in the downtown of the small city. Damn, I could remember passing by as a kid and seeing all likes of people hanging out at the small bar owned by the father of the girl I’d eventually fall for.

Smiling to myself, it was hard for me to not think about the good times I’d enjoyed with Bethany. She was my first love. Fuck, she was my only love. Once I thought I’d fallen in love with someone else. Turns out it wasn’t a relationship worth having a lifetime.

I thought back to the phone call I’d overheard Bethany having. Was there trouble in paradise? I knew she’d been engaged to some guy, some big shot Hollywood guy. Mr. Cross would talk about Bethany’s wedding preparations sometimes though he didn’t seem terribly fond of the fiancé in question.

Making the drink expertly for the gorgeous woman sitting broken in the office, I added the twist of lime to complete it before heading back to where Bethany still sat. A frown dominated her face. I wanted to comfort her, hold her face to my chest, rub her back, and tell her everything would be okay. It was almost as if those feeling were natural for me.

“Here’s that drink,” I announced from the doorway.

Bethany whipped around, her eyes meeting mine before she took the glass from my hands, muttering thanks, and pouring the entire contents down her throat in one swift motion.

“Slow down there Girlie. You’re going to get yourself sick,” I chuckled.

I only ever saw Bethany drink so fast once, her twenty-first birthday. She was on Spring break from school and had come home. I took her to party in Chico, bad idea. She’d had so many drinks and shots, she passed out drunk. I had to drive her back home and the next day she was sick as a fucking dog. Luckily, her dad being a bartender, he helped nurse her back to health.

“At this very second, I could care less,” she expressed, handing the now empty glass back to me, her fingers lightly brushing mine. “Another,” she demanded.

“As the bartender, I’m already cutting you off. You don’t need to keep going–”

“And as the owner this this place, I’m having another whether you like it or not,” Bethany spat in return.

“Hey Liam, you around!” a voice called from the front of the bar.

I shook my head at the beauty before sprinting out of the office to see one of the regulars already at his designated spot and waiting on his usual— rum and coke.

“Hey Dale,” I said, happy to see the old man who basically called the bar home. Though it was a sad day, we were keeping forward as Mr. Cross wanted.

At the news of Mr. Cross’s death, all the regulars turned up at the bar, they were determined to keep his dream alive, keeping it a place of communal love and acceptance. People from all walks of life were accepted at the bar. If anyone was having a rough time with any part of their life, they had a family to lean on at Crossroads.

“Whose fancy car is that outside?” Dale questioned as I started on his drink.

“Bethany arrived today,” I mentioned nonchalantly, peering up at Dale.

Dale was in his sixties, retired, and he always spoke about how he owed Mr. Cross his life. Mr. Cross had gotten him out of some pretty shitty predicaments over the years, even bailing Dale out of jail a few times.

Dale’s mouth flew open at the mention of Bethany, he sat shocked, flies entering and exiting his mouth. I stayed silent.

“Is that right?” Dale finally spoke with a huff.

“She’s back in the office,” I pointed in the direction of the office before handing Dale his drink.

Everyone in the bar, we all knew about Mr. Cross’s sickness and we all knew we hadn’t heard a peep out of Bethany in the last year. She’d never come across as selfish to me, but I guess I never really knew her the way I thought I did.

* * *

With the first drink of the evening hitting the counter, the regulars, and even a few faces hadn’t been seen around in quite some time, entered the bar. The jukebox was fired up and the sounds of eighties rock and roll filled the room while the patrons drank, chatted, and played pool. Everyone partied like Mr. Cross was still there. It was what he had wanted.

Glancing up from making a drink, I spotted Bethany as she exited the office, her purse over her shoulder and a look of disdain on her pretty face.

“Oh, Bethany!” Mrs. Stevens, a regular, shouted out drunkenly as she approached the blonde who observed the bar in full swing. “Let me hug you baby. I’m so sorry for your loss.” She pulled Bethany into one of her classic bear hugs, squeezing the life out of her.

Mrs. Stevens was a small woman, but she could out drink most men who stepped foot in Crossroads. Tonight, she was in top form and had drunk her fair share. She couldn’t exactly walk a straight line, but she could at least walk and after the number of drinks she’d had, most others couldn’t master that.

Bethany looked like a deer in headlights, unprepared, and unable to move. I chuckled before coming from behind the counter and patting Mrs. Stevens who was now a sobbing mess, on the back, in hopes of getting her to let Bethany go.

Finally, the older women loosened her grip on my ex, who stumbled backwards. She seemed completely overwhelmed with everything, and a little frightened. I got why she was scared, patrons all over the bar were gawking at her.

“I’m heading out for now,” Bethany quietly mentioned to me and I nodded.

“Bethany, between me and Liam, we’ve been keeping your dad’s house up. We hoped he would be able to go home and I just wanted him to have a nice place to go back to,” Mrs. Stevens sobbed, using her arm to wipe away any snot that escaped her runny nose.

“Thank you,” Bethany squeaked, obviously trying not to cry herself. I saw the moisture in her eyes and knew the dam could break at any moment.

“When’s the service?” Mrs. Stevens asked anxiously.

“I’ll have that information tomorrow. At least I hope,” Bethany responded quietly.

I placed my hand on the small of her back and began to lead her toward the exit and through the crowd. I wanted her in her car safely. She shivered at my touch and I’d sworn I felt the same shiver earlier when our fingers brushed back in the office.

“Little bitch,” someone spat from the crowd.

Bethany froze in her tracks, her chest heaving up and down as she tried to not show any weakness to those around her. All while her eyes searched around for who made the comment.

“Sorry excuse for a daughter.”

“You don’t deserve a fucking penny!”

“Only here for the damn money!”

“Take your ass back to LA. Snotty ass princess!”

As we neared the door, the words coming from the patrons were getting nastier and Bethany was barely holding on by a thread.

The moment we reached the door, I swung around to face the unruly crowd. They had no right to make assumptions, nor to call her out on her shortcomings. I was mad at her too, but I wasn’t going to degrade her after the loss of her dad.

“Shut the fuck up!” I roared to all of them. “Leave her alone. Yeah, we loss Mr. Cross, but she lost her damn dad. Show Mr. Cross some fucking respect by respecting his only family and only daughter.”

With my final words, I pushed the door open to the warm night and led a shaking Bethany outside.

“I need to go,” she insisted through sobs.

It was natural to me, I pulled her close, her face to my chest as she cried. Even if she wasn’t the model daughter, she still had loss, she still lost the only family she had left and was filled with pain.

Taking in her scent, strawberries and cream, I remembered the good times we had together. There was a time where Bethany and I were inseparable. She’d come back to the shop with me after school and hang out until the street lights came on and I’d take her home. Other days, I’d hang out around her house or at the bar.

“Do you want me to come down to the funeral home with you tomorrow?” I asked her, knowing she had a full day ahead with things pertaining to burying her dad.

The pain she was experiencing. I couldn’t imagine it. My dad and I had a close relationship. He’s my boss and my best friend. If I lost my dad, I wouldn’t be able to function, and I watched Bethany on the fence of being able to power through and losing her marbles.

“No, I’ve got it. I’ll be fine.” In true Bethany fashion, she’d straightened out and was going to power through. I kissed the top of her head, I didn’t know why I did it, but I did.

Flashbacks of our years passed, flickered in front of my eyes. I shook them away. Bethany and I were over years ago and it was time to move on from the love I tossed away.

“Where are you staying?” I asked her as I gently ran my hand over the smooth skin of her bare arm.

“The Shasta Inn off I-5. I’m not ready to go into Dad’s house yet. Maybe tomorrow or the day after, but the Inn will do for now,” she unlocked her luxury car. “I’ll go now. Thanks for that in there.”

“No problem.”

I watched as she jumped in the driver’s seat of her car, started up the gently purring engine, and sped off into the darkness.

For a few fleeting moments, I stood in the warmth of the evening. I closed my eyes and I could almost see Bethany’s beautiful blue orbs staring back at me.

I’d known Bethany since high school and she wasn’t one to show her feelings openly. Bethany held everything inside in a little compact box. Outwardly, she showed strength and resolve while inside she was a panic-stricken mess. I wondered what thoughts ran through her mind while her dad was sick, when he died, while the bar patrons chastised her, and when I touched her.

* * *

Sleep had been hard to come by when I returned to my small apartment over my dad’s auto repair shop at four o’clock in the morning. Eventually, I’d settled into a slumber as the fan blew in the background.

That place of calming was interrupted with incessant banging that came from my front door. I peeled my eyes open to only find the red glow of my alarm clock staring at me and learning it was only after seven-thirty. I hoped it would go away but the loud knocks at my front door continued.

“Coming,” I grumbled as I threw off the thin sheet I’d used in the warm night.

Kicking my legs off the edge of the bed, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and rose to my feet. The late night coupled with the highly emotional last couple days had taken a toll on my body and I stumbled toward the door.

“Hold on!” I shouted as I threw a T-Shirt over my head and fought with it to get it completely on as I made the rest of the trek to the door I violently swung open to the nasty face of my daughter’s mother staring back at me.

I shook my head confused at her presence and seeing my daughter standing with her, backpack over her back as she grinned up at me. That little freckled face was all I needed to lift my mood after waking up to her mother banging at my door.

“What?” I was confused to why she was there so early.

“I’ve got shit to do,” my ex spat at me before she took a long drag from a cigarette. She blew the smoke out and instantly Serenati began to cough at the intrusion of her mother’s smoke into her delicate lungs.

“Seriously Kayleigh, she has asthma,” I growled angrily to the hot mess that stood before me. She wore a sloppy spaghetti strap tank top with shorts that left nothing to the imagination. Her sandy brown hair was thrown into a messy bun on the top of her head and her skin looked like the surface of the moon with dips and delves everywhere. Meth could do that to a person–disgusting.

“Get inside Renni. You can watch some tv and I’ll make you breakfast,” I said to my little girl who spotted a grin that showed off her newest missing tooth. “You lost another tooth. Did the tooth fairy bring you a treat?”

“No,” Serenati sighed as she passed me and walked inside my small apartment. I made a mental note to leave a little something under her pillow.

I slightly closed the door behind me and stepped out onto the metal stair landing to come face to face with my biggest mistake.

“You need to stop smoking around her,” I hissed in attempt to keep my voice low.

Kayleigh rolled her eyes and took another long drag before blowing the smoke in my face. I wished my parents hadn’t raised me right because I would have knocked the shit out of her for her careless behavior.

“And please, watch your language with her,” I demanded in hopes she could step her game up and be a better parent.

“Whatever, I don’t have time for your holier than thou talks. My boyfriend is waiting in the car. As I said, I’ve got shit to do.” Kayleigh turned away and jogged down the stairs.

I peered down at the car she approached. It was a fully equipped Mercedes C-class. The guy in the front seat looked like some whack wannabe Eminem and sported all kinds of chains around his neck. He was a new boyfriend in a long line of men in and out of my daughter’s life. I made the point of being the constant.

Shaking my head, I turned and stepped into the apartment where I found my six-year-old watching some show on Disney Channel. I sat down on the couch next to her and pulled her into my lap before attacking her belly with tickles.

“That tickles Daddy!” Serenati screamed through her giggles. If I’d done anything right or admirable in my life, it was being her father. Her mother may have been a mistake or a blip in my story, but Serenati was my world.

I sat her back down in her spot and she grinned up at me. She was an absolute angel with her freckled face and beautiful strawberry blonde hair, she got that from my mom.

“Who’s your mom’s new boyfriend?” I asked her, eager to know who this man was who was spending time with my only daughter.

“That’s Mike.”

“And is Mike a nice guy?”

“I guess.”

“Does he treat you good?”

“Yeah, he bought me a doll.”

“I suppose that’s nice of him. Does he touch you? Has he touched you?” I hated I had to ask her those questions, but Kayleigh didn’t spend time with the most admirable crowd and my biggest concern was always Serenati’s safety and wellbeing.

“No.”

“Are you sure?” I drilled her for an answer. If anyone laid hands on my daughter, they would be receiving a gift from the barrel of my shotgun.

Yes.” She whined. “Are we still having breakfast? I want pancakes.” With only a look from her gray eyes, I was a puddle. I nodded and stood.

I stole a final look at her when I noticed something that sent rage blaring through my veins. The dress Serenati was wearing had a grape juice stain on it. I knew it was grape juice because she spilled it on herself in my car two days ago on the way to her mother’s.

“Renni, have you had a bath since I took you home?” I asked the girl who only shook her head no. She hadn’t had a bath and was still in the same clothes I’d dropped her off in several days ago.

I was fuming from the incompetence of the woman I tried to trust with the care of her own child. I wouldn’t make a huge deal about it, not with Serenati, but we had a custody hearing coming up, and I was going to fight with everything in me to get sole custody of my little girl. Kayleigh couldn’t even bother herself with changing her clothes. She only cared about getting money from the next guy who wanted to stick his dick in her and the drugs she could smoke.

“Come on, I’m going to run you a bubble bath and I’ll make those pancakes,” I offered my daughter my hand. She took it and bounced from the couch. “After breakfast, we’re going to go down to the shop. You can help grandma in the office while I work.”

“Okay,” she happily skipped off toward the bathroom. I watched her go and knew I’d have to give her everything her mother couldn’t even try to.

Life was filled with uncertainty from the death of a father figure, to the return of the only woman I’d ever loved, and now the battle to make sure my daughter was in a caring home.

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