The Mixtape by Brittainy C. Cherry

8

EMERY

My sister and I used to be best friends.

We used to tell one another every secret and comfort each other whenever our parents were too harsh on us. Too harsh on me. My parents were never hard on Sammie. Maybe because she was the youngest. Maybe because they loved her a little more. Maybe because she was the golden child who’d never done anything wrong.

Over the past five years since Reese was born, our relationship had shifted. We didn’t talk like we used to, and when we did, the conversations felt forced. Though sometimes we’d chat, and it would feel like the old days when she had my back and I had hers, and we’d tell one another all the best secrets in our hearts.

That afternoon when she called me, for a small amount of time, Sammie and I felt like my favorite memory of us. We felt like best friends again.

“Ohmygoshhhh! Tell me everything! Every. Single. Thing! Don’t leave a single bald spot out,” Sammie squeaked over the phone as I walked into my apartment with a stack of résumés in my grip. Coming home felt like returning to a closet after dropping Oliver off at his oversize mansion. The moment I got a second to breathe, I texted Sammie and filled her in on everything that had gone down with Oliver the previous night.

Needless to say, she was having a panic attack about it all. If anyone loved Alex & Oliver as much as I did, it was my sister.

Her voice shook with excitement as she continued talking. “What did he drink? How was his hair? Were his eyes as dreamy as ever? What did he smell like? For the love of all things righteous, please tell me what he smelled like.”

I snickered. “Um, whiskey and vomit?”

She swooned over the idea of whiskey vomit like it was top-of-the-line cologne.

“You lucky girl,” she sang through the phone receiver. “I would give anything to smell Oliver Smith’s vomit.”

“You’re insane,” I laughed.

“Maybe, but oh my gosh, Emery. This is wild! I cannot believe you ended up front row and center at the Oliver Smith show—kind of. It’s like your biggest dream came true.”

“This wasn’t exactly the way I dreamed about hanging out with Oliver.” In my mind, I figured we’d randomly cross paths in Venice, where we just so happened to get on the same gondola by accident, then laugh at the same moment due to the mistake. Then our eyes would lock, our bodies would respond, and he’d sing to me as we traveled down the endless stream of love. We’d have five children, the first being named after Oliver. Then, somewhere along the line, E! Entertainment would offer us our own sitcom, yet we wouldn’t accept because I’d see how power couples had been destroyed time and time again due to reality shows. RIP Nick and Jessica, Jon and Kate, and Kendra and Hank.

Then, we’d spend our fiftieth anniversary taking that same gondola ride, only this time surrounded by our children and grandchildren.

That’s how the dream romance went between Oliver and me.

The reality? Not so many swoon-worthy moments. Definitely more gag-worthy situations.

“So, are you seeing him again? Was there some kind of connection?” she asked, as if she didn’t hear me mention his aroma of vomit.

“The only connection was I learned that celebrities are just regular people who are messed up, with paparazzi and money. It wasn’t as dreamy as you’re imagining it to be.”

“Yeah, okay, I get it. I’m sorry it was such a letdown.” She cleared her throat. “But like, before the vomit, what did he smell like?”

I smirked, shaking my head. “You really want to know?” I asked, walking over to my couch and plopping down.

“Yes, yes, a million times yes!”

“Like a smoky forest oak that burned for just the right amount of time.”

“Oh my goodness, I knew it,” she blew out, “pleased” being an understatement. “Did you cut a piece of his hair for memories?”

I giggled. “You’re ridiculous. But I have to say—”

Before I could finish my thought, I heard a voice in the background of Sammie’s phone.

“We’ll be ready for you in a few minutes for the fitting,” they said.

I arched an eyebrow. “Who was that?”

“What?”

“I heard a voice.”

Sammie snickered. “I’m just leaving a coffee shop; it was a woman coming in. But enough about that. Tell me more. What happened when you were with him? I need all the details.”

“Well, he peed in my plant.”

“Oh my. Um, is that some kind of sexual code word?”

“What? No. He legit peed in my houseplant.”

“Did you ask him to do that?”

“Why the hell would I ask him to pee in my plant?”

“I don’t know. Fangirls are weird sometimes.”

I laughed. “Well, no, I didn’t. He was so drunk that he thought he was peeing in the bathroom but went straight into my houseplant.”

I could almost see Sammie’s frown through the phone. “I’m going to be honest, that’s pretty disappointing.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint,” I chuckled, shaking my head at my sister’s comment. Man. I missed her. I could’ve really used her around me as of late, but I knew I wasn’t able to ask her to come visit. If I did, the phone calls would get more distant. Sammie had a way of pushing things away when they became too much for her.

As I was talking to her, I received a message from Joey at Seven, telling me to come down to the bar as soon as possible. “Sammie, I have to get going. We’ll talk later, okay?”

We said our goodbyes, and I hopped into my car to drive over to Seven. I tried my best to completely shake the past twenty-four hours from my brain. If I could go back in time, I would’ve never gone in to work that night. Then, my fantasy of the man who made the music that had saved me through my darkest days would still be fully intact. I’d still be a crazed fanatic, and I wouldn’t have to face the reality that he was merely human after all. I remembered when I met him at a meet and greet years ago; I still felt as if he was Superman. Now I understood he was just a man who struggled like everyone else in life. I couldn’t blame him for his struggles. He literally lost his other half.

My mind kept betraying me by wandering back to Oliver, the man who’d destroyed my fantasies. In a way, he’d been such a big part of my life growing up. A huge part of my sister’s story too. His music is what got Sammie and me through our parents’ strict rules. We’d sit in our bedroom, listening to the songs quietly with our earbuds in, because as Mama often said, “Satan’s music does not belong in a house of God.”

Just to be clear, any music that wasn’t Mama approved was Satan’s work.

Did people really get to listen to One Direction growing up? I sure didn’t.

Mama said the only direction those boys were going was down to the devil’s cave.

Growing up and listening to Alex & Oliver’s music was our dirty little secret. They were the key to our strong sisterly bond. So, to face the reality of who Oliver was nowadays, versus the person I’d thought him to be when Sammie and I met him years ago, was such an emotional whirlwind. I didn’t know how to feel about Oliver being the complete opposite of the person who’d made my sister smile all those years ago. Those smiles were the last ones I remembered ever getting from her.

I wanted to believe that the man I’d seen was a big departure from who Oliver really was deep to his core. I wanted to believe that he was just temporarily damaged, and not forever this way. I wanted to believe that somewhere within him lived the man who’d written the words that had saved me time and time again.

I craved the idea that he was still my hero, and not just a fallen star who’d burned out his light. Yet I knew there was going to be no way to prove his truths. We’d probably never cross paths again. The worst feeling in the world was coming to the realization that your idols were merely human themselves.

When I headed into Seven, still thinking about Oliver, I was completely thrown off.

“You’re fired,” Joey barked out as I walked into the bar through the back entrance. A group of paparazzi was outside the building, wanting to get an exclusive. They stood around like psychopaths waiting to attack. Joey hadn’t even unlocked the front door yet, which seemed odd. It should’ve been opened for business hours ago.

“What?” A knot formed in my gut as I stood there, flabbergasted by his words.

He crossed his arms and nodded toward me. “I said you’re fired.”

“Joey, why . . .” I blinked, trying to get rid of the panic and turmoil that were rising up within me. Numbers started formulating in my head, bills skyrocketed across my mind, the struggles that I’d face without working at Seven. I was already struggling with the job. I couldn’t imagine the hardships without it. “I . . . I can’t lose this job. I can’t.”

“But you did. I’ve been here all day cleaning up the mess you made, and counting up the register, trying to make ends meet, and do you know what? Ends don’t freaking meet because you pushed dozens and dozens of drunk people out of the bar without closing their tabs! When whatever went down, people stole bottles from behind the counter. And you gave a top-shelf bottle of whiskey to some celebrity who you didn’t charge.”

“I can cover the costs . . . ,” I said, my voice becoming shaky.

“Oh, trust me, you already are. I took your check from the past week and am using that to recoup some of what has been lost. Outside of that, we’ll call it even. You can go now.”

My body shook at his words, because I couldn’t walk out of that bar without my check in hand. I couldn’t face Ed without actual cold hard cash to hand over to him. I knew if I showed up without a check to give him that evening, I’d be kicked out in an instant.

“No, no, no. You don’t understand, Joey. That check . . . that’s my rent, and it’s due today. It was due a week ago, actually. Please, you can’t do this.”

“I can, and I did. Now go!” he barked, pointing toward the exit.

I wanted to keep arguing with him. I wanted to fall to my knees and beg for him to reconsider, but I’d known Joey long enough to know that he was stubborn in his ways, and it was almost impossible to change his mind. Besides, I’d seen him fire people for far less than what I’d done.

The tears kept rising to the corners of my eyes, but I tried my best to keep them locked in tightly. I didn’t want to fall apart in front of Joey. I didn’t cry in front of people. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had witnessed me losing control. I kept my sadness and emotional breakdowns to myself, in private, where no one could try to give me comfort. I didn’t want people’s pity; I just wanted to be strong enough to keep myself from falling apart.

But I wasn’t there yet. The moment I hit my car, the tears began to flow. I gripped the steering wheel, and I didn’t even try to keep from allowing my heart to shatter. There were a million reasons why my heart was breaking, a million reasons why I was falling apart, but the main reason was because of Reese.

My beautiful star who deserved so much more than I’d been able to give her. She deserved the world, and I was giving her crumbs.

I didn’t know how I’d do this. I didn’t know how I’d be able to provide for her. All I knew was I couldn’t put her in a position where she didn’t have a place to lay her head. I couldn’t put her life in jeopardy because of my failings. There was nothing more important in this world than my daughter.

When it rains, it pours.

About a year ago, I heard those words from a homeless person who was standing outside a grocery store, panhandling. It didn’t rain much in Los Angeles, but that afternoon it was a downpour, making it hard to even drive through the streets.

The woman stood in the rain with a jacket covering her head, and she was swaying back and forth, chilled to her bones and holding up a sign for some help. Reese seemed completely unaware of that woman’s struggles; her only mission in life was to jump in every puddle she crossed.

When I looked at the woman, my chest felt tight. Sure, things weren’t perfect for Reese and me, but our struggles could’ve been worse. I reached into my purse and pulled out the few dollar bills that I had and handed them her way, along with my umbrella.

“Oh no, you keep the umbrella,” she ordered, as she thanked me for the money. “I don’t need it.”

“It’s coming down pretty hard. My daughter and I can just rush to our car to get dry. You need it more.”

“When it rains, it pours,” she sang, looking up at the sky as her face became drenched, yet still, she was smiling. The biggest smile on her face. “But the rain always stops, and the sun comes out again. Thank you for your kindness. May God bless you.”

I was certain that interaction didn’t resonate with the woman as much as it had with me, but her thoughts got me through some of my hardest times. Especially the ones I was currently partaking in.

When it rains, it pours, but the rain always stops, and the sun comes out again.

Funny how strangers could affect a person without even knowing it.

I was having a terrible day, going through my own deluge, and I couldn’t even fully process it because, before I could be fully human, I first had to be a mom.

As I picked up Reese from camp, I was determined to show some of my best acting skills in front of her. Inside my soul, I was cracking due to the storm; outside I smiled like the sun.

“How was camp, sweet pea?” I asked after climbing back into the driver’s seat of my car as Reese hummed some song she’d learned that day.

“It was good! We are making the biggest, biggest, biggest piñata ever, and Ms. Kate said we get to break it on the last day of camp! Mama, it’s the size of the moon!” She gleamed, making me laugh. Even on the worst days, that little girl could make me smile.

“Wow! That must be really big.”

“It is. It’s the biggest thing ever. Plus! They are putting candy in it, and we all got to pick a candy we wanted in it, because Ms. Kate and Ms. Rachel said that all of our opinions mattered and I picked Skittles, because they are my favorite candy, and my best friend Mia said ‘Eww’ because she thinks Skittles are gross, and my other best friend Randy said I picked a bad one, so I changed it to Blow Pops.” She said it so nonchalantly, as if those two other kids weren’t freaking bullies.

It didn’t go unnoticed by me that Mia and Randy were the same two kids who had Reese questioning if we were poor.

Tomorrow, I’d be having a very stern conversation with the camp instructors to make sure that they were truly watching over my daughter to keep her from being bullied by those two.

“Reese, you know better than changing your mind because of what someone else says. You love Skittles. Don’t let these kids make you think you don’t like what you like.”

I glanced back at her to witness her shrugging her shoulders. “It’s just because Mia and Randy are cooler than me, that’s all.”

“Reese Marie, don’t ever say something like that again, okay? You are the coolest person in this world, and don’t let anyone make you think differently.”

Was it too dramatic to think that I really wanted to give those two five-year-olds a piece of my mind? Or at least their parents. I would’ve been horrified to learn that my child was a bully. And I truly despised the idea that Reese was surrounding herself with those types of people. I didn’t want her to (A) start doubting herself in any way, shape, or form or (B) become like those two and bully others.

She was at that stage in her life where everything had an impact on her thoughts. I needed to fix the problem sooner rather than later, before it really affected her growth.

“Okay, Mama,” she said, going back to her humming as if nothing major had taken place.

“I mean that, Reese. You are the coolest person I’ve ever met in my life. Don’t forget that.”

She agreed with me and went back to singing “Background Noise,” by Alex & Oliver, obviously. As we drove, I fell into their music, too, somewhat forgetting the craziness of my life and allowing myself to breathe for a moment in time.

Thank goodness Abigail dropped off those groceries for Reese and me the other day. I could make that stretch for a while, and if worse came to worst, I could sell the car.

There’s always a way, there’s always a way, there’s always a way.

My mind was filled with the affirmations that I spoke to myself on a daily basis. They kept me from crumbling and spiraling too far away from myself.

“Hey, Mama?”

“Yes, Reese?”

“Who’s my dad?”

My heart sank into the pit of my stomach as I looked back toward her as she played with one of her dolls that was always left in the car. That was the last question I’d expected to come from her. I knew down the line I’d have to address that question. I’d played that conversation over and over again in my head for the past five years.

“What makes you ask that?” I responded, trying to sound as calm as I could, even though my heart was beating as if it were ready to burst from my chest.

“Well, at camp we are making Father’s Day cards for everyone’s dads, and I told Mia and Randy I didn’t have a dad to make a card for, and they told me that everyone had a dad, and I didn’t know that. I thought some people just had mamas, so now I’m just wondering who my dad is if everyone has dads.”

Freaking Mia and Randy. The two devil children.

“That’s a very good question, sweetheart, and we should talk about it later when we get home, okay?”

“Okay, Mama. I hope I get to meet him one day. I want to tell him I love him like I love you.”

My already shattered heart crumbled into even more pieces than ever before.

“I love you, Reesey Pieces,” I choked out, fighting the tears that were sitting at the back of my eyes.

“Love you, too, Mama.”

Thankfully, she didn’t bring the topic up again that night. After dinner, she headed to her bedroom to play with her toys, and I cleaned up the kitchen and gathered the garbage to take out to the trash bins outside.

As I walked outside, Abigail was walking in and gave me the brightest smile. “Hey, Emery. How are you—” Her words faded when her eyes met mine. “Oh no, what’s wrong?”

The mother shield I’d been carrying on my shoulders began to crack as my shoulders dropped and my chest burned. “Just one of those days.”

“What happened?”

“I lost my job today due to the craziness that took place at the bar last night. I don’t know how I’m going to keep things together. We were already living paycheck to paycheck, and I made the stupid decision to spend a big part of my savings on summer camp for Reese. Now, things are even tighter, and I’m out two jobs and it seems like the world is spiraling.”

“Oh, sweetheart. If you need help—”

“No, truly. It’s fine. I’ll figure it out. Thank you, though. To add flames to the fire, Reese asked about her father today.”

Abigail grimaced and nodded in understanding. She knew my life story inside and out. Heck, she was there for me more than my own mother was when my world turned upside down five years ago.

“She’s getting to that age where she’ll start wondering about these kinds of things,” she said. “Especially if she’s surrounded by other kids who are living different kinds of lifestyles.”

“Better lifestyles,” I sighed.

“No life is better than another. They are all just uniquely different.”

“I don’t even know what to say to her. How to even bring it up. Heck, I can hardly bring it up to myself without getting emotional about it.”

Abigail placed a comforting hand against my shoulder and gave me one of her sincere smiles. “Speak when you’re ready. Your daughter will be willing to listen when you’re able to tell it. Until then, just let her know that she has a mama who loves her. You’re doing great, Emery. Just know that, even on the days when it feels like you’re not.”

I thanked her for her kindness, and she gave me the hug that I hadn’t even known my soul needed. I continued on my way to throw out my trash as Abigail headed up to her apartment. On my way up, I ran into Ed, who of course was in search of his rent.

“Emery!” he called out, walking my way.

“I know, Ed, I know. I’ll have you the rent tomorrow,” I said, not exactly sure if it were true, but I’d do what I had to do to make it happen. Even if that meant taking out loans for money that would cost me double to pay back.

“You said that you’d have it tonight!” he argued, fuming as his fuzzy brows sat low. “I can’t keep doing this, Emery. This is it!” he barked. His face was a deep red, and I could feel his annoyance. I didn’t blame him. He’d put up with my struggles long enough, and he didn’t have any reason to keep allowing me to slide.

“Just twenty-four hours more, Ed. I swear. I’m selling my car tomorrow to get you the money. Please,” I begged, wiping away the stubborn tears as they danced down my cheeks.

The moment he saw my trembles and shakes, his body relaxed a bit as he grumbled to himself and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Twenty-four hours. After that you and your kid are out, all right? That’s it, Emery. That’s the deal.”

“Deal. Thank you, Ed.”

He muttered something under his breath and waved me off before he walked away.

That night after Reese and I got down on our knees and said our prayers, I kissed her forehead, tucked her into bed, and went to my room for my own good session of falling apart. After I’d had a lengthy private cry, after I’d cracked, I knew I needed something. No. I needed someone. I needed my sister.

As I dialed her number, tears sat at the back of my eyelids.

“Hello?” Sammie answered. Just from the sound of her voice, I began to break, and she must’ve sensed that. “Em? What’s wrong?”

“I lost my job.”

“Oh my gosh, Emery. I’m sorry.”

“Do you think you can come here? I just . . . I need you.”

“Emery . . . ,” she sighed.

“I need you, Sammie. This is all too much. I’m drowning, and I need you here with me. I can’t do this alone.”

The line went silent for a split second, and I felt an overwhelming sense of dread as I went back to begging. “Please, Sammie. I’m struggling. I can’t do this alone. I wouldn’t ask unless I really needed the help and—”

“I can send money,” she offered, her voice cracking now.

“No. I don’t need money, Sammie. I need you. I’ve always been there for you at your lowest . . . please . . . I need you at mine. It can be quick. You don’t even have to see Reese, I swear. I just need you.”

Again, the silence filled the receiver, and I felt a spark of betrayal as Sammie whispered, “I’m sorry, Emery. I just can’t be what you need me to be. I can’t.”

“Sammie—”

I didn’t get to finish my sentence. She hung up, leaving me to feel unbelievably alone. How could she do that? How could she turn her back on me when I’d shown up for her time and time again? The hardest truth to learn in life was that not everyone loved the same way you did. I’d given my sister everything in the past, and all she’d given me was a dropped call.