Cayson

PRESENT DAY

“CJ, snap out of it and stop moping around. It’s only been three days since Kayla left,” Jenna speaks as she placed her hand on my arm. “Kayla just needs some time to wrap her head around what is going on between the two of you.”

“Have you heard from her, Jenna?” I snap back, not realizing the harshness in my voice. “Has she called you lately or even bothered to tell you why she left without letting any of us know?”

Jenna stutters her words. “W-well, no, I haven’t exactly heard from her other than the text she sent telling me she’d talk to me later. I just assumed she’s been busy with her book. Just call her, CJ.”

My eyes blaze with anger as I look directly at Jenna. “See, you have no fucking clue. Fuck it and fuck her. If she wants to talk to me, she’ll call me. I am NOT going to call her like some pussy-whipped dumbass, and by the way, I’m not moping around. I just don’t have anything to say.”

Fallon speaks up from the kitchen area. “Stop being a dick to my woman, CJ. She’s right. You’ve not been yourself since Kayla left. The guys are out right now, dipping their dicks, and you’re here hanging out with my old lady and me. Don’t you think we’d like some time alone?”

“Shut the fuck up, Fallon. You want time alone, take my room tonight. I’ll sleep in a bunk. I don’t care.” The words leave my mouth before I have a chance to grasp the magnitude of what I just offered. Thoughts of Kayla, and I holding each other in my bed flood my mind. The smell of Kayla still remains on my pillow and in my room. If Fallon and Jenna take me up on my offer, those smells will disappear and be replaced by their scent, and I’m not ready to let go of the little bits of Kayla that were left behind, regardless of what I said. “On second thought, dude, fuck you. You can’t use my room. I’ll leave and give you some privacy.”

“Well, hallelujah, baby,” Fallon says while walking over to sit beside Jenna. “We’re finally getting that alone time you’ve wanted. I’m going to rip those clothes off your body, sink myself deep in you, and show you how much I love you.”

I have no idea what I’m going to do with myself. I just know I’ve got to get out of this bus. The heat and humidity hit me the moment I step out the door. I’m already sweating, my T-shirt sticking to my body as I walk through the parking lot to the doors of the arena. It’s pretty quiet in here right now, but all that will change in about four hours. The hustle and bustle of security, crew, and band members will electrify the air. Seeing a security guard ahead, I stop him and ask for directions to the closest room that I can kick it in and not be disturbed. I thought the dude would just give me directions, but instead, he decides to take it upon himself to show me.

“Thanks, dude, really appreciate it,” I tell him and slip him a fifty while asking for his discretion and privacy. I’m not quite sure what I expected from my secret hiding place, but it isn’t what I see before me. Upon flipping the lights on, there is a couch, a TV, and a desk. It looks as though this is someone’s hiding place from the chaos of life. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I stretch out on the couch. I know there will be no texts or calls from Kayla, but that doesn’t stop me from looking and then cursing when my screen is blank.

It isn’t often that I feel melancholy for home, but right now, at this moment, I miss my mom. A little voice calls out in my head, God, what a pussy you’ve become. Mentally, I tell my brain to shut the fuck up, and punch in my mom’s number. It rings several times before she answers.

“Baby boy, what’s wrong?” There is no hello or hi, just an immediate assumption made that something is wrong. Her tone reeks of concern.

“What makes you think something is wrong, Mom? Just thought I’d call you and see how you were doing, since I had some free time.”

“Bullshit, son, you have plenty of free moments when you could reach out to me, and you don’t. I don’t complain because you’re a grown man and have a life of your own. So, show me some respect when you call me and do not bullshit me. Does this out-of-the-blue call have something to do with Kayla?”

My body flies up into a sitting position. I haven’t told her about Kayla, so how the hell does she know about her? “Mom, how do you know about Kayla?”

“Oh, silly boy. There are no coincidences in life. Kayla’s mom is a dear friend of mine and Patricia’s. You would have known this if you had stayed home more as a teen when we moved back to Arizona. You were always so busy with the band, and Kayla, well, she was always studying and so focused on school that she never came over with her mom. But I know I mentioned her many times. You just didn’t listen.”

“What the fuck, Mom? You didn’t think it was necessary to tell me ahead of time or even ask if I would be okay with it?”

“Language, Cayson, stop using that vile word. You know how I hate it. As far as telling you, of course, I wouldn’t tell you,” Mom says while laughing into the phone. “If I’d asked, you would have said no. Then I would have had to make you feel guilty and push you into doing it, and then you wouldn’t have been yourself, and she needed to see the real deal.”

“It should have been my decision, Mom. I should have had the right to say no. Instead, Sean tossed it on the band and me like we had no say so. It’s not fair, and it’s bullshit.”

Again, my mom laughs. “Life isn’t fair, son. You should know that by now. So, tell me, what did you think of Kayla? She’s a great girl, isn’t she?”

I sit thinking about Kayla and what my mom just laid on me. She’s right. If she had asked, I would have said no, and then I would have missed out on getting to know Kayla. The little voice in my head takes the opportunity to speak up again. Yeah, and your heart would be in one piece, and your dick wouldn’t be whipped.

“You should have asked, Mom. Next time, ask, okay? Yes, Kayla is great. A little on the naïve and sheltered side, but she is great.”

“Naïve? Sheltered?” my mom questions.

“Yeah, she lives in a dream world of her romance novels, where everything is roses and candy and the real life doesn’t exist,” I tell her in a bitter tone, if I’m honest.

“Oh, stop it, Cayson. There is nothing naïve and sheltered about writing romance novels. Some of the greatest writers of our time wrote romance novels, and thanks to them, I made a career out of teaching young minds about literature.”

“Until you lost yours,” I utter in a low voice.

“Excuse me, son. Did you just say I lost my mind?”

“How the hell did you hear that, Mom? I whispered it under my breath.”

Chuckling, she responds, “I have ears like a hawk, son, and a mind as sharp as a tack. What would make you think I lost my mind?”

I didn’t call my mom to start an argument. In fact, just the opposite. I wanted to feel the comfort that her voice always gives me, but I’ve opened the box; now it’s time to address the elephant that has been in the room for over ten years.

“Look, Mom, I don’t want to argue with you. But come on, things didn’t start going bad between you and dad until you started reading all those romance books that are floating around these days.”

“What?” Her tone is full of shock. “Is that what you think? That reading those books made your father and me get a divorce?”

“Well, isn’t it?” I snap back. “Everything was fine until you started reading those books. Dad used to yell at you to stop comparing him to the men you read about.”

“Oh, son, it wasn’t my reading that caused your father and me to divorce. It was his cheating with his assistant that did that. My reading was just a way to occupy my time while your father was fucking someone half his age. The men in those books don’t exist, honey; they're just fun to read about, and your dad used that as an excuse to justify his guilty conscience.”

“Hey, I thought you didn’t like that vile word,” I scoff.

“Well, it's applicable when it comes to what your father did.” After a few seconds of silence, Mom continues. “Honey, I’m sorry that all these years you’ve thought that was the reason your father and I divorced. Actually, I’m quite upset that you would think I’m shallow enough to believe that I’d throw away a marriage because of a fantasy man in a book. Life is hard, honey, and relationships are harder. They take years of practice and commitment. It’s a give and take, and neither partner can carry the weight on their own.”

There is silence on the end of the line now, Mom waiting for me to respond to her, but I don’t know what to say. As a kid, I was sure that was the reason my parents divorced. My perception became my reality, and all these years I’ve lived my life thinking the worst about my mom, still loving her, but thinking the worst.

“You still there, Cayson?” her voice comes over the line, bringing me back to my reality.

“Yeah, I’m still here. I guess I owe you an apology, Mom. I just always thought…” My voice trails off while I contemplate what to say next. “All these years, I’ve been such an asshole to women, never letting anyone in. Am I too fucked up to ever have a relationship now?”

“Oh, baby boy, you are not messed up; you’re just protective of your heart. That’s why I was all in when the suggestion to send Kayla your way was made. I knew you had it in your heart to love someone unconditionally, and I had hoped that Kayla would help you realize that before it was too late. I guess I also hoped that maybe she’d be the one.”

My mom is right. If Kayla hadn't entered my life, I probably would have lived the rest of my life alone. I would have spent years just working my way through the easy pussy that came my way without ever understanding what it would be like to have an emotional connection. Kayla changed all that for me.

“Not to change the subject, Mom, but why did you ask me if everything was okay with Kayla?”

“I didn’t ask you if everything was okay with Kayla,” she replies. “I asked you if this call had anything to do with Kayla.”

“Okay, so why would you think this call had anything to do with Kayla?” I question. “Do you know something you’re not telling me, Mom?”

“No, son, I don’t know anything, just that Patricia called yesterday asking if I heard from Kayla or if you called to say anything about her. She and Sean haven't heard from her other than the day after she landed back in Phoenix, and Patricia seemed a bit worried. Is there something you need to tell me, Cayson James?”

It’s never good when my mom calls me by my first and middle name. That usually means she knows I’ve done something wrong. “I’m waiting, Cayson. What happened between the two of you that Kayla would come back to Arizona and not reach out to anyone? Even her mom has been waiting to see her. Kayla called to let her know she was home but never showed up the next day to visit like she said she would. So, spill, my child. What happened?”

“Nothing, Mom. Let it go, alright? I need to get going. I’ll call you soon. Love you.”

“Fine, you can’t hide from whatever happened forever, son. I know there is more to what you are claiming is nothing. Just know that sometimes God has a bigger plan, and everything happens for a purpose. It may not seem like it right now, but you’ll eventually see what it is that is meant to be. Love you, son.”

Before I can ask her what the hell she meant by her last comment, she ends the call. Mom talks in riddles sometimes, and she did that on purpose; I’m sure of it. As a kid, if ever she wanted me to see the error of my ways, she’d throw out some random statement and then walk away, leaving me to toss it around in my mind until I found the answer on my own. Now, as a grown man, she still has me analyzing myself with her words. What the hell did she mean, eventually what was meant to be would be? As I sit there, the words keep turning over and over in my brain while I struggle to make sense of them. Running my hands over my face, I let my fingers settle at my temples and begin to rub little circles with my eyes closed.

Standing, I walk over to the desk, looking for anything to write with or write on. I sit in the chair and start digging through a drawer. When I find a pencil and some scrap paper, I jot down the words that are running through my mind.