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Taylor got up from her frozen position on the chair and walked to the closet. She found the jacket she had worn earlier and ripped the stiff slip of paper from her pocket. And from inside the closet she dropped to the floor and dialed the number she found on the business card.
A sleep-laden voice answered her call.
“Dr. Mellon.”
“Why is my mother in Cedric’s stupid book thing?”
There was a pause, “Taylor?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry—”
“I got your email and opened the attachment and it was a journal. It appears to be his first one from rehab,” she said rattling out her explanation. “So I looked at Cedric’s book and I found a drawing of my mother. Why is my mother in this stupid book? You said this book was from his time in rehab that was way before he met my mother.”
“Taylor, your mother was a patient with Cedric.”
“No, she wasn’t,” Taylor dismissed immediately. “My mother grew up in southern Arizona and met my father at a music festival in Baja.”
“I’m sorry, Taylor, but—”
“No, she—”
“Taylor, you need to listen to me,” Dr. Mellon said sternly, finally silencing her. He didn’t shout. Perhaps if he had shouted she would have shouted back or if he had said nothing she would have just rambled on. But it was his no-nonsense fatherly “listen to me” that got through to her. “Cedric met your mother while they were both in rehab. They were friends.”
Taylor shook with the sobs that she was working very hard to keep silent. “What was she in rehab for?” Taylor finally got out, her voice raw and broken.
“Your mother was addicted to drugs, Taylor,” Dr. Mellon explained gently.
“She never told me,” Taylor whispered. “Why wouldn’t she tell me?”
“I am sure she wanted to protect you, Taylor. It’s what parents do. Perhaps we can set up a meeting,” Dr. Mellon said. “I can try to fill you in on what I know.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me?” she whispered.
“Because I thought someone in your family should tell you those secrets.”
* * *
Derrick wokeup on the couch with Taylor glued to his side, and though he was having some pain at his incision site he smiled and tilted his head so that he could lay a kiss on the top of hers.
“My mother was a drug addict,” Taylor said as his lips touched her hair and Derrick froze.
“I’m sorry, what?”
Taylor leaned her head back and met Derrick’s eyes. “Mellon sent me Cedric’s journal thing, and there was a drawing of my mother in it.”
Derrick was working his barely awake mind really hard to try and take in what Taylor was saying. He wondered if he was still asleep, but as he blinked his eyes he knew he was awake. “Tay, that doesn’t mean she was a drug addict.”
“I called Dr. Mellon.”
“Wait, when the hell did that happen?” Derrick asked, completely confused.
“After you fell asleep,” Taylor said.
“Okay,” Derrick said trying to catch up, “so you called Dr. Mellon.”
“Yup.”