“It’s complicated.” He laughs, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“How can it be complicated? You’re married.”
“Marriage is just a signature on a piece of paper. Sometimes you can love a person more than they love you. You think you’re okay with it at first because you have them at your side, at least, but inevitably, it eats away at you.”
“I’m sorry,” I respond sincerely, since I can tell it’s difficult to admit such a thing.
“Don’t be. I’ve made my own mistakes during the years.”
“You mean—”
“Yes. Him.”
“I’m sorry. I know you don’t like talking about him.”
“It’s okay, sweetheart. I should have known that confiding in your mother would be the same thing as confiding in you. She never kept any secrets from you. Not even mine,” he retorts, pretending to softly punch me on the chin like he used to do when I was a little girl.
“But you keep secrets from your children.”
“I keep secrets from everyone.” He chuckles, and this time it comes from the gut. He then taps the tip of my nose with his knuckle, with a knowing grin on his face. “And you find out secrets of your own for me, don’t you?”
“I haven’t done that in a long time. Not since Easton.”
“Yes. The boy did take over there for a while, didn’t he? But then again, first love is always overwhelming. It casts a shadow on the rest of the world when all you want to do is bathe in your lover’s light. I understand perfectly, and I won’t hold it against him.”
I feel the slump of my shoulders return with just the mention of his name.
“Do you think he’ll ever come back?”
“I’m not sure, Scarlett. For your sake and his, I hope he does. If you’re suffering, I can only imagine the misery he’s living with on a daily basis. I saw how much he cared for you. You can’t fake that kind of love, nor can you keep it buried in the sand for long. But it is admirable the sacrifice he’s willing to make to ensure his mother’s wellbeing. I doubt Colt would be that altruistic if Colleen or I suffered such ridicule.”
I thin my lips and keep them shut. I’ve already touched on the topic of his children, and I know they are a sore spot for him. I don’t see why we should both have to leave this dressing room with sadness in our hearts.
One of us wallowing in misery is enough.
Sunday morning is much of the same. I sing in the choir, averting my eyes from where my uncle is performing his sermon. That spot has me reminiscing about Easton on top of me, dominating my body and soul, one thrust at a time.
Once the congregation leaves their respective seats to return to their normal, lackluster lives, I make haste to do the same.
“Scarlett,” my uncle calls out as I try to make a quick exit.
“Yes, Uncle Jack?” I bat my lashes at him, hoping he can’t see the dark rings under my eyes, or how bloodshot they are from spending most of the night crying.
“May I have a word?”
“Of course.” I nod.
He takes me out back to the assembly hall, a room that does nothing to ease my sorrow. Will I ever again be able to walk into a room without thoughts of Easton popping into my mind? I guess only time will tell. So far, nothing has worked to keep my thoughts away from him. I wish I knew how he was settling back in New York. If his mom is getting better, or if the move has only aggravated an already damper situation.
“You’ve been off lately,” my uncle states plainly, snapping me back to the here and now with his scrutinizing gaze.
“Have I? I haven’t noticed,” I reply stoically, shifting from one foot to the other.
“Don’t lie to me, Scarlett. I know damn well what’s been going on.” His sudden strict tone leaves me even more baffled about what he’s hinting at.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Maybe these will shed some light,” he retorts, handing me a manila envelope.
I open it and am stunned to discover it contains over twenty pictures of me singing on stage at The Brass Guild. How can this be possible? Owen makes sure that every member leaves their phone at the door for this very reason. He doesn’t want anyone to record what goes on in there or, more importantly, who frequents the clandestine club and how they spend their time inside it.
“Before you open your mouth to lie to me again, remember there is nothing that goes on in this town that I don’t know about. Plenty of souls come to me and confess their sins, looking for absolution. I’ve suspected for a while now that you were singing at that den of sin, but now I have proof. You are not to return to that place. Am I understood?”
At first, the shock of my uncle admitting he knew all along that I sang at The Brass Guild has me speechless. But when he forbids me to do the one thing I love most, my anger awakens my voice.
“No.”
“I beg your pardon?” he chokes, eyes wide.
“I said no, Uncle. I don’t know how I can make it any clearer to you.”
“Scarlett, I will not have you back-talking to me. Especially here.” He points around, reminding me we are in God’s house.
“I’m not being disrespectful to you, Uncle Jack. I’m just stating a fact. I’m a twenty-three-year-old woman who knows her own mind. Singing at the club gives me joy and fulfills a part of me that yearns to be on stage. You cannot order me to stop. You have no authority in how I choose to live my life.”
His strict features soften, and for a brief moment, I see the uncle that stayed at my bedside in the Vegas hospital as I was being treated for my burns. I see the man who cried with me when I had to bury my mother, and who held me when I woke up screaming from nightmares. I know my Uncle Jack has a kind heart beating inside of him, but sometimes, his black-and-white view of the world clashes with my technicolor perception of it.
“Scarlett, you are my family. I love you and want to protect you. I will not stand silently by and watch you make the same mistakes my sister made. Do you honestly believe I can hold my tongue while you sing at that place where the money is splurged on loose women, gambling, and alcohol? Who knows what dangers you might face in such a place? I’m sorry, Scarlett, but you cannot expect me to bite my tongue on this.”
“I expect you to accept the choices I make in my life. That’s what I expect from you. They are mine and mine alone. And don’t use my mother’s memory to manipulate me into doing what you want. It dishonors her as well as yourself.”
He purses his lips, taking a step back from me.
“It’s the Price boy who has put this nonsense in your head, isn’t it? I knew the minute I heard he had been sniffing around you, that I should have put him in his place. I thank God he’s gone, so he can’t do you any more damage.”
Easton being spoken about so callously by my uncle is the straw that breaks the camel’s back.
“You knew? And you never said anything?”