Zenith Fulfilled (Zenith Trilogy, #3) Read online

  Then a large envelope showed up in the mail with her return address. Inside were the first three chapters of her book, written on pages that were neat and crisp. Also, clipped to the top was a check for five thousand dollars, made out to him and signed by Nick Lassiter.

  Rob stared at the signature, and the promised amount. Surprised that it was real, and that they were serious, Rob considered it a lot of money to receive all at once for a guy like him. Knowing it was Nick Lassiter signing the check was something he couldn’t compute, no matter how long he spent contemplating the circumstances. His first reaction was to tear it up: all of it, the check, the chapters, the entire package that Rebecca so painstakingly put together and sent him. He knew, somehow, this was a direct reflection of how she was: thorough, organized, diligent, and so honest. All for his eyes only. Everything out in the open.

  He dreaded reading about what he was, and what the suburban mother found to say about him. Still, he couldn’t ignore it. In the end, he seated himself at the kitchen counter and started reading.

  It was not nearly so painful as he thought it would be. She wrote easily understood sentences that kept his eyes scanning the page, wanting to see what she’d write next. She coaxed the reader’s curiosity about her subject, and her narration remained kind towards Rob, while also being sympathetic, funny, and truthful. It wasn’t a technical self-help book at all. She was writing a story. His story. And let the reader take from it whatever he or she would. It was just a story, not like a hammer on the head, urging sobriety; or the glorification of alcoholism. It was good. Really good. Even if he detested being the subject. And the story. She presented it rather well to page forty-two.

  He sighed, sliding it away from him. The doorbell grabbed his attention when it pealed through the house. He walked over and opened the front door, grinning when he realized who was there. Spencer.

  Spencer came in, slapping Rob on his back as greeting.

  “So, you’re back from the honeymoon, huh? Good time?”

  “Yeah. Great time,” Spencer said, grinning. To see him grinning was more information than Rob was used to receiving from Spencer. He figured that a “great time” was probably the extent of how much of his honeymoon Spencer would reveal to Rob. He certainly wouldn’t be pulling out photos and souvenirs from his trip.

  Spencer slid onto the barstool and glanced around to see if anything had changed.

  “So, how’re things going?”

  Rob figured by “things,” Spencer was really asking Rob if he was still sober. And being a good boy. Not partying. And definitely, not messing things up again.

  Rob shrugged. “Things are fine. Usual.”

  Spencer glanced down and nodded. “Usual? Then why the hell is there a check from Nick Lassiter addressed to you?”

  Rob shifted and moved towards the fridge, where he dug around for two pops. He threw one at Spencer, who raised his hands and caught it without a word being exchanged. “Well, that is the interesting thing, I guess. Remember Rebecca? She’s writing a book about me, about my life as an alcoholic. I don’t know… she has this whole series about different addictions in mind. And that, right there, is her first payment to me.”

  “Is that the only reason you agreed to it?”

  “Yeah. The only reason.” Rob sat on the counter opposite Spencer.

  “Rebecca’s cute. Couldn’t be too bad hanging out with her.”

  “Did you hear what I said? She’s writing a book about my miserable existence. About it all, Spencer. It’s not what I call fun. And her brother, my replacement for Joelle, is funding the whole ridiculous project. There would be no other reason to do it besides the money.”

  “Why do you need money so badly?”

  “I don’t. Don’t worry! No more rehab, and no more loan sharks. Nothing. It’s just, I mean, who wouldn’t want that chunk of change? Well, except for you millionaires nowadays.”

  Spencer shrugged. Rob knew he had almost no interest in his wife’s wealth. “It might be good for you. You know, get it out.”

  “Now you’re advocating I spill it all too? I guess pigs really must fly now.”

  Spencer scowled at him, and said, “Rebecca’s damn cute.”

  “So you said.”

  “You haven’t noticed that?”

  “I noticed she’s the mother of three kids. And she’s married. I noticed that; yes.”

  “Mothers of three date also, you know.”

  “Married,” Rob said hollowly.

  “No. Actually, she’s separated. Pretty sure the asshole left her high and dry a couple of years ago.”

  Rob paused and tried to act as if he didn’t want to know whatever other details Spencer might offer. “What’d he do?”

  “He worked for some kind of import/export business. Far as I know, he traveled a lot. One trip, he called to say he wasn’t coming home, and needed some time. Or space. Some such lame bullshit. And just left her and the kids! Heard he was having some kind of mid-life crisis or whatever.”

  “Who leaves their kids? I know marriages fall apart, but abandoning the kids?”

  Spencer shrugged. “Seems like a shitty thing to do. Not even we could do anything that bad. Or that loser-like. Still, doesn’t change she’s pretty cute.”

  Rob finally smiled. “She’s cute in a wholesome, all-American daughter kind of way. Not exactly my type. And I doubt very much if tattooed, washed-out rocker/drunks are her type either.”

  Spencer shook his head. “I married a doctor, man. A genuine, kind, beautiful doctor. If that can happen, anything can happen! Besides, if I remember right, wasn’t Joelle an all-American college student when you fell in love with her?”

  Rob let out a breath through his gritted teeth. “I’m not into Rebecca Randall. I’m getting ten grand from Nick Lassiter. That’s pretty good revenge, don’t you think? All the while, Nick is eating his heart out just knowing that his precious little sister is sharing the same air as me.”

  Spencer stared at him, using his uncanny ability to not blink, which eventually made Rob turn away. “You’re not doing it for that reason, Rob. You know it as well as I do.”

  “Then why am I doing it?”

  Spencer shrugged. “Because it’s time. Time to let it go. Seems like a good way to let it all go. And she’s cute. Nothing bad ever resulted from hanging around a cute girl.”

  Rob groaned. “A married mother of three. Not a girl.”

  Spencer quit smiling. “I mean it. Let it go. It’s past time. You know what it is time for you to do? Sing. Go after that dream again. Sell the house, take the money, go to New York, or L.A., go somewhere, and make it work. It’s time, Rob.”

  Rob set his drink down. “What? Now that you’re happy and married, we all should be? Life don’t work that way, Spence, and you know it. You can’t have changed so much that you’d forget that! You can’t have forgotten reality.”

  “No, but I have changed. And if I can, anyone can.”

  Rob almost muttered, changed into what?

  “You don’t want to go with me, do you?” Rob asked finally.

  Spencer looked down, then back up. “I thought I did. I thought that sitting around, wasting my time, and my life, was primarily because I was waiting for you to get your life back together. I thought I was waiting on Zenith. But it turns out, I was waiting to dream again. About wanting things again.”

  “It was always my dream, my ambition, and my downfall, wasn’t it? You were just along for the ride.”

  “I wanted to play music. I definitely wanted that part. I wanted Zenith to succeed for a lot of years, but I don’t need it now, not anymore.”

  “You don’t want to leave Erica, do you?”

  “No. I don’t. I waited a long time for this. No, actually, I never had this. A home. Rob, when I go home, I’m glad to be there. I’m glad that she’s there. It still surprises me, every single time I walk in the door. And no, I don’t think I could stand leaving her. She’s got her practice, and she can’t just pick u
p and leave. Turns out, I also like her expensive condo in the city, and I like living there with her. I like sharing our lives together. It’s not what I planned on, Rob, but it’s good and it works for me.”

  “And going to college? That’s enough for you?”

  Spencer glanced away as if embarrassed by his new interest and lifestyle. “Yeah, Rob. It’s enough for me. Turns out, I’m actually kinda good at it.”

  Rob nodded. “It’s good, man. I’m not being patronizing. It’s good. You’ve got a life, and you need to explore and enjoy it. You’ve waited such a long time for it.”

  “You’ve got to find your voice again.”

  “I’ve never performed without you.”

  “I know. But maybe, you should find out how to sing purely as Rob Williams. Not Zenith. Not as a drunk. Not as a group. Just Rob Williams. You’re still the best singer I’ve ever heard.”

  Rob let out a long breath, and ran a hand through his hair. He was not used to being given uplifting advice and guidance from Spencer Mattox, of all people. It almost didn’t compute.

  “Do this book for Rebecca. Then, take the money, sell the house, and go do something really spectacular. It’s not too late. Everyone deserves a second chance, especially someone who has worked as hard as you have.”

  “I’ll think about it, Spence.”

  Spencer nodded as he got up and headed towards the door with a wave. “Erica says you’re supposed to come over tomorrow night for dinner. Better show, too; you’ve seen her temper flare; wouldn’t want to piss her off. Six o’clock.”

  Rob was chuckling as Spencer left. He knew he was lucky they regularly included him. It was a nice feeling, to have friends who truly enjoyed his company.

  But his heart flinched with pain; it was real now. It was over. Zenith was over. Although it technically had been over for a matter of years now; there always remained a small wisp of hope in his mind that, maybe, just maybe, someday Zenith would rise again.

  If he asked him outright, Rob knew that Spencer would restart the band with him. Spencer was sure to help him. Spencer would definitely do that. And for years, he did whatever he could to help Spencer, while encouraging Spencer to want the band as much as he did. But it was over. That was years ago. This was now. Now, Spencer had a life, and it made him happy. It wasn’t fair of Rob to interfere with his happiness.

  Rob was the one who was lost and floundering. He had no idea how to face a stage, or sing a song, or build a career in music, as plain, old Rob Williams, now sober, sane and very much alone.

  Chapter Ten

  The day was a rare, record-breaking sizzler. The first heat wave of the year, reaching nearly ninety degrees in May in the Seattle area made it as scarce as hen’s teeth. The concrete shimmered as Rob’s bike roared atop it. The hot air that blew at him wasn’t nearly refreshing enough. The sky was a beautiful shade of blue all around him, and the trees dressed in their new spring leaves, looked as if their tips were painted. The mountains were almost waving from the scorching lines of sun hovering over them as his bike aimed towards Rebecca’s house, out into the country where there were more trees than people.

  He slowed down as his wheels crunched over her gravel driveway. Finally, the trees dispersed and he saw her house and came to a stop. He studied the scene as he took his helmet off, then left it on the seat and stared at the front yard.

  There was a round, plastic, blue wading pool occupying the front and center of the lawn. A sprinkler twirled lazily at one of side of it and an array of toys were scattered all over the yard. The grass was short and freshly mown, with pools of sunlight dappling it. Sunlight streamed in all directions from being caught in the prism-like reflections of rainbows in the sprinkler.

  The focus of Rob’s stunned gaze, however, was the four redheads in a row, lying on the grass, with an assortment of brightly colored towels beneath them. The sun seemed to compete with the shade from the cedars in the moving shadows. Karlee was sound asleep and Kathy was reading. She heard his bike drive up and was staring across the lawn at him; just as he was at the four of them. Kayla was listening to her headphones. Rebecca was in the middle of all of them on her back, with one arm over her eyes. He couldn’t tell if she was asleep also. She seemed to be wearing earphones too.

  To Rob, they looked like four pretty, red flowers abloom in the grass. All similar shades of hair blending atop the bright beach towels. Rob had to stop and just stare. They were as unfamiliar to him as if he were walking up to a unicorn. He didn’t know what to make of them. They looked so pretty. And comfortable. And relaxed. So normal.

  Kathy nudged her mother and Rebecca moved. She sat up and pulled at her ears as soon as she realized he was there. His heart stopped for a moment to watch the sunlight when it fell across her head, highlighting the deep red strands of her hair. It was past her shoulders today in rumpled ringlets. She wore a pair of jean shorts, and a plain, blue t-shirt. She was barefoot, white-skinned, and looked only about eighteen years old sitting there. She blinked as if adjusting her eyes to the light and used a hand like a visor to look at him before she smiled a warm, welcoming greeting. She seemed totally at ease, and even glad to see him. She was totally clueless of how good she looked to him. Or how good the four of them looked together. Like a little oasis of innocence and joy, aglow in the sunshine, lying relaxed, resplendent in the quiet warmth of the nearby woods.

  Rebecca had no idea what she looked like to someone like him.

  Rob started walking, not content with the direction of his thoughts. Rebecca finally jumped up and put a finger to her lips as she nodded towards the sleeping three-year-old. Karlee lay on her stomach and her swimsuit had one side going up her bottom, which had to be uncomfortable. But Karlee just lay there, totally trusting, sprawled in the sun beside her mother and sisters. Her hair flopped over her face. If he had been a different man, he might have thought the hitch he felt near his heart was from thinking how adorable she looked.

  Rebecca walked in front of him and led him towards her covered porch. She walked barefoot over the grass, up the stairs and into the cooler climate of the covered porch.

  “You told me to come at three.” His tone was almost accusational. He wasn’t expecting to walk up on this! An idyll of girls at rest in their hot, relaxing yard could have been an oil painting. All around the porch were hanging baskets and pots, filled with riotous arrays of blooming colors. It smelled like fresh sunlight and was as warm and pretty and welcoming as everything else about her.

  She flopped down on the porch swing. “First hot day of the year! No school; if you had kids, you’d know it had to be a wading pool day.”

  Rob didn’t have kids and never spent much time around them, so therefore, he didn’t know. He also didn’t know why it all seemed so attractive to him. Usually, on sweltering days like this, he was holed up in dingy, dark taverns, and playing darts or pool. He did it even now, despite not choosing to drink. He was often with people dressed in black and leather who hid inside the air-conditioned caves with shaded windows. He didn’t ever go out into the forest with three red-headed little girls and their pretty mother.

  All of this green countryside, sunlight and fresh air were definitely not him.

  Rebecca pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs. She looked like a teenager. And not even eighteen. No makeup on her face and not a single piece of jewelry adorned her. She was the most attractive, fresh, and appealing woman Rob ever laid eyes on in that moment. He was so stunned, he turned away from her and leaned against her porch railing as he dug into his pocket for a cigarette and lighter. His own t-shirt felt sticky against his chest and his tattoos looked harsher and brighter against the blinding sunlight of the day. He lit the cigarette, and blew smoke into the fresh, prettily-scented air so it wasn’t quite so pretty or so fresh around him.

  “Do you have to be somewhere soon?”

  He glanced at her. “No.”

  “Well, good. Then you can relax. Hang out here. It’s to
o hot to cook, so we’ll barbecue.”

  “We’ll barbecue? You want me to stay for dinner?”

  “What did you think? I’d make you drive all this way and then not feed you? God, Rob, would you relax for once? I told you, I don’t want Q and A sessions with you. I want to just hang out. And talk. Let things flow naturally.”

  Naturally? Standing there surrounded by four sunbathing girls? A wading pool glistening in the sun’s heat, and a woman he tried to dislike for insisting he talk to her, suddenly appearing to be eighteen! She seemed to symbolize every opportunity he ever missed out on when he was eighteen. Not a single thing about the situation he found himself in felt natural.

  He sensed her gaze on him.

  “Aren’t you hot?”

  He almost laughed out loud. Women often said that to him at the party scenes he lived in for years. But never, ever in the way Rebecca Randall was asking him and meaning it.

  He’d never been more serious than when he replied, “Yes. Yes, actually, I am.”

  “Take off your boots and socks; the grass will cool you off a lot.”

  “You want me to go barefoot?”

  She shook her head, and her hair fell around her shoulders. “Sure. Why not?”

  “Yeah, why not?” he echoed. He wasn’t sure why not, but it seemed like doing so would be stepping into a life that wasn’t his. Rebecca got up off the porch swing and started heading back towards her towel.

  Seems they were really hanging out. Rob didn’t know why. Or why she always met with him when her kids were around. And she always seemed perfectly comfortable with him on her property? Or observing her life? Why did she let him light up cigarettes in front of her kids without ever a word, or even a grimace of disapproval?