Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Callie

I swear, Eddie will be the death of me. I thought we'd made some progress today when he agreed to go to an NA meeting—even if he sat there and sulked the whole time—only to have the arsehat sneak out and not tell me where he was going. It took me forever to get ahold of him, and when he answered, he was a smartarse. The one thing I managed to hear was the buzzing sound of a tattoo gun, so after a quick call to Mickki, I confirmed where he was—getting tattooed.

Once I find Big Moe's House of Ink on Google maps, I make my way there, and I spot Eddie and Damien getting into his car as I'm pulling up. I hit his number, and he doesn't answer, so I decide to follow him and see where he is going. I want to give him some credit because I expected him to be at a bar somewhere drowning his sorrows—it's what I feel like doing sometimes after attending a meeting. But I know I could bust him buying drugs.

After driving for fifteen minutes or so, we pull into a hospital. I park far enough away so they don't see me and try to call him, but I'm not surprised when he pulls out his phone, then laughs as he puts it back in his pocket.

I casually follow behind them. Maybe they know I'm there, but I don't care—it's my job to make sure he doesn't do anything sketchy. Even though I'm not sure you can do much in a hospital, it wouldn't surprise me if he's paying off a doctor to write him prescriptions because it's so something a rock star would do in my mind.

They get into a lift, and I hide behind a vending machine until I wonder what the hell I'm doing. I watch as the numbers go up to the fourth floor, then catch the next lift and hit the button to get off on the same floor. It's a children's ward, and I wander around trying to see where he's disappeared. That's when I see him, sitting in a big chair with children, parents, and nurses surrounding him. He has a boy who looks about four or five sitting on his lap, looking up at him like he's his idol. He asks the kids for a song request, and they all start calling out, but when he starts to sing, tears well in my eyes. Maybe Sasha was right, and he really can be a decent human being—weirder things have happened.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I step around the corner to take the call. It's my ex-husband, which concerns me. We're friendly enough, but now that Beau is almost eighteen, he doesn't often call me anymore.

"Hey, what's up?" I whisper.

"Why are you whispering?" he asks.

"Sorry," I say, realising I don't need to whisper. "I'm in a hospital."

"Is everything okay? You haven't . . ."

"No, I haven't relapsed or anything like that. It's a long story—I'm sure Beau will fill you in."

"That's why I'm calling you. I need to talk to you about Beau and wanted to see if you're free now to meet me at Dr Evans's office."

"Sure. I can be there in twenty minutes, if that suits?"

"Sounds good. He's with a patient now."

I check back in and make sure everything looks okay with Eddie. He's still singing away to the children, so I shoot Mickki a message and let him know where he is and that I have a family thing I need to do, but that I will check back in when I'm done. Since Eddie went to a meeting today, and he's at a hospital, I'm pretty sure my job for the day is over. I can't keep tabs on him forever.

Walking into the doctor's office, I see my ex-husband, Dane, sitting in the waiting area. He's still as handsome as he was in high school. His hair is slightly grey now, and he has aged a little in the face, but I still get the same butterflies in my stomach when I lay eyes on him. He turns as I approach and gives me a small smile. I've done so much to hurt him over the years, but I'm just glad he's been an amazing father to our child and raised him to be a well-rounded young man.

Before I can say hello, our family doctor, who also is my ex's best friend, walks into the waiting room. I see his body visually tense up when he notices I'm also present. To say I've done some terrible things as a teen is an understatement, and that includes sleeping with Dane's best friend. I'd expected Dr Evans—Brad—to tell Dane about our affair and break us up, but maybe he knew I was a train wreck and would destroy my marriage all by myself.

"Dane," Brad says, shaking his hand. "Callie, nice to see you again," he says to me, ushering us into his office. They talk about football and their lives, leaving me to feel awkward and left out, so I take a seat and cough, hoping to make them aware I'm still in the room.

"As much as the idle chit-chat is nice, you obviously asked us here for a reason. I took time off work to be here, so can we get to the point?" I might come across nastier than I intended, but Brad and I never got along. And the smugness in his face moments ago when he brought up Dane and his wife going over for dinner made it obvious he's trying to rub everything in my face.

"Nice to see you haven't changed in all these years," Brad snaps back. I'm about to give him a piece of my mind when Dane steps in, just like he used to all those years ago.

"So, you asked us here to talk about Beau?" Dane asks Brad.

"Yes, I ran all those tests like you asked me to."

"Tests? What tests?" I ask, no one ever talked to me about doing any tests, but why would they?

"It was nothing, Callie. I didn't want to burden you with this unless we found something," Dane says, facing me. It's hard not to melt away at the sight of his crystal-blue eyes.

"A burden? Are you serious? I've been clean for five years, not five minutes. I can handle knowing if there's something wrong with my son."

"The tests came back negative—he has a clean bill of health," Brad pipes up, trying to interject.

"So, why are we here? Can someone explain that to me? I have a moody rock star and a whole heap of drama to deal with." When I say rock star, they both turn to look at me. "It's confidential and I can't tell you anything," I say, before either of them can ask for more.

"I feel like Beau could benefit from going back to counselling again, or even antidepressants," Brad says, and I turn to Dane. How could they keep this from me? He gives me a look as if to say, keep listening, and I turn my attention back to Brad. "He has the impression that he's going to die. We've done tests for everything possible as per your request, but he isn't dying. I think he's had this in his head so long he now believes it. Maybe it's from everything he went through as a child."

I put my head down and rub my temples. Not only did I abandon my child for drugs, but after his uncle was killed and then me trying to take my own life, he now thinks he's going to die. I'm sure I won't be getting a mother of the year award anytime soon. I can't believe I've done this to my baby—he would have been better off if I'd stayed out of his life. Tears rise in my eyes and blur my vision.

"This isn't your fault, Callie. He's had this in his head for a long time and I never told you because I knew you'd feel this way. I hoped as he got older, he'd grow out of it, but he hasn't—and that girl he hangs around with doesn't make it any better by buying into his delusions."

"How is this not my fault? I was a pathetic junkie, and my next fix was more important than my family. It got my brother killed, and instead of thinking about my son, or even you, I wanted to end it all. Even after all that, I still didn't get clean. It took my niece, who I didn't even really know, dying to shock me into getting clean. I was pathetic—I still am. By now, I should be settled down in a relationship. Instead, I'm barely hanging on, while running around and trying to help a pain in the arse rock star—who doesn't even think he has a problem—get sober before he loses his career." I sniffle and wipe the tears from my eyes.

Dane turns to me and takes my hands in his. "We were too young when we had Beau. Maybe if I hadn't been so selfish, and paid more attention to you and Beau, you wouldn't have done the things you did. Even I have to take some responsibility and guilt for the past—it's not all on you."

"Thank you," I say, looking up at him. He squeezes my hand, and for a second, it makes me feel content.

"I've put together some pamphlets with numbers. If you talk with his psychiatrist and give him this envelope, hopefully we can get him feeling good again."

"Thanks again for calling me," Dane says to Brad, letting go of my hand and standing to shake his. I also stand, but don't shake his hand. It might seem childish, but I don't care, the guy just gets under my skin. How he was smart enough to become a doctor is beyond me.

I follow Dane out of the room, and the receptionist smiles and waves to us. When I say us, I mean Dane—he still has that way about him, which makes girls fall at his feet, and now it seems grown women too. In the parking lot I say goodbye, and we agree to meet up for dinner and talk to Beau together as a family, along with Tara. I can't exactly deny her—she was a mother to my son when I couldn't be, and she still is.

Pulling out onto the street, I decide Eddie can fend for himself for one night. He seemed to be in a good place after our meeting, and seeing him with those kids made me feel at ease enough about going home. I'm in no mood to deal with him now. If he was to act like a brat, it could make me do something stupid, so it's best if I go home and call Olivia—she can always talk me down—take a hot bath, and maybe even look at a few houses. Finally having a place to call my own again would be nice. The last time I could truly do that was when I brought Beau home from hospital, and I was just a scared little girl back then.