Page 18 of The Impact (Parachutes #3)

Chapter Four

Tahli

“Paige, what the fuck is this?” Tahli frowned at the neon sign burning in the clear March night. Songbird .

“Just rock with me for a minute.”

“Where we rocking to? What are you getting me into, P?”

“Something other than another fucking sabbatical,” Paige quipped.

“Okay, first of all…it wasn’t a sabbatical. It was a mental break. Me time. I hiked. I skinny-dipped in hot springs. I meditated. I found some peace. And I might want to do another round. What’s wrong with that?”

“Okay, Cree Autumn.”

Tahli’s mouth flew open. “Whoa, what the fuck?”

“Look.” Paige turned to her under the glow of that purple sign and moonlight. For once, the inside of Paige’s Lexus truck wasn’t blasting Outkast or Tupac. Only Tahli’s offended breathing filled the silence before Paige’s unspoken thoughts made their debut.

“I ain’t about to get all Abby on you and beat you in the head about what you need to do. You wanted the divorce, whatever. You wanted to move out of your house, cool. I might not agree with that shit–”

“The divorce or me moving out?”

“Does it matter?” Paige’s retort pinned her to the seat.

“But this? Walking away from your kids? When they just went through the same shit, too? Tahli, we don’t do that.

You don’t do that. You don’t leave your kids.

You don’t fucking leave your kids. No matter how bad you want to.

Why you think I ain’t never have them mothafuckas?

‘Cause you can’t be selfish. I can’t not be selfish.

But you? Bitch, you can’t be selfish. One mental break? Fine. Running away again. Nah.”

For the first time Tahli could remember, Paige’s voice swelled with emotion. It was subtle and the car was dark, but Tahli caught it; the tremble in Paige’s words. They had trauma bonded long ago on a similar sore spot—parental negligence.

“Can you just come in here with me and see if this helps?” Paige’s tone dropped a notch. “Before you pack up your shit and go all Eat, Pray, Love again?”

Tahli nodded in reflection. “You saw that movie?”

Paige shrugged. “White chick made me watch it. Big-ass titties. Ass like a quarter.”

“That flat, huh?”

“I almost broke my pelvis fucking her with my strap.”

Tahli snorted.

“Can you just tell me what this is?” They were nearly whispering.

“I’d rather show you.”

“Okay, next up on the stage, we have Withered Rose.”

“Fucking karaoke, Paige?”

“Open mic,” Paige corrected, as they took to a tall table with stools.

“Can I get you anything?” How did Paige do that? Tahli had to wonder as the waitress’s hazel eyes sparkled on her friend. In their twenties, Paige had been a boyishly cute girl. In their thirties, she was the stunning stud that made straight women stare. If Tahli were Paige’s date, she’d be livid.

“Can you?” Paige threw back.

“I think it’s my job,” the woman blushed.

“Okay. Well, let’s see how well you do it. Then maybe I can return the favor.” Paige won the verbal tennis match. The woman snickered, dashing her eyes away.

“You are a whole trip.”

“Let me get tequila straight. A double,” Paige tossed in.

“No problem. And you? Oh my God, I love your hair. You’re so pretty.”

“Thank you,” Tahli grinned, surprised she was still visible. “Um…I’ll take a…” She tossed around fruity drinks in her mental bank.

“Tequila for her, too. And bring some limes, please.”

“Paige,” Tahli hissed, as the waitress walked off.

“Sabbatical, bitch. You wanna escape, right?”

With too much tequila in her system, a few sucked limes, and a table-full of empty shot glasses, Tahli aimed a loose finger at one of the two blurred Paiges in front of her.

“And another thing…that mothafucka was always coming back with a gift. Every fucking business trip…” Tahli slurred. “Here he comes with some diamond this…red bottom that…fur this…even that fucking dog.”

“I hate that dog.”

“Don’t talk about my dog,” Tahli snapped at Paige.

“Then he wanna fuck me…and eat my pussy all night long…” Tahli counted off on her fingers, suddenly aware she might be too loud when even the always-brash Paige glanced at the other patrons.

“Whole time? He had been with his whole other fucking family. He probably ain’t even go to work. He probably ain’t even got no job.”

Paige shrugged. “He gotta have a job. Where all his money come from?”

“I don’t know!” Tahli shouted. “He probably robs banks, or some shit. You know what? I bet him and that bitch was robbing banks together. I don’t know shit about Vin.

Do you? They were probably like Bonnie and Clyde.

Robbing banks. You remember Sharonda? He likes them criminal-ass bitches.

” Both of her double-vision Paiges slammed down the rest of a drink.

“Can we get some water, please?” Both Paiges called out.

“Ooh, this my song!” Tahli slapped her hand on the table, rattling the glasses. A few tumbled over.

“But I don’t wanna hear this shit!” Tahli declared, maybe louder than she thought because a few people looked her way. “I don’t wanna hear about her baby coming over. I don’t give a fuck about her not wanting to lose her love.”

A banana-skinned girl was on stage singing her rendition of The Emotions I Don’t Want to Lose Your Love .

“Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Aye! Where the fuck you going?” She heard Paige calling behind her.

Behind her.

Was she walking?

Her mind was too groggy to break through. There was no space between her considerations and actions. Whatever she thought she might want to do, Tahli realized she was already doing it.

“Oh…okay…” A man spoke into the microphone, before Tahli snatched it.

“Tahli. I’m Tahli. I like to sing but I’m a teacher. I met this guy in college, and I had his babies, and shit. So, I never got to be a singer. Even though, I didn’t really want to be a singer.” The room spun a little. Thank God she was in sneakers.

“Woooo!” Paige clapped from somewhere in the crowd. “Alright! Come on down, Tah.”

“Where’s the music?”

Tahli stumbled to the DJ. A few seconds later, the hard drums started on the familiar rock beat. When the rifts hit, Tahli danced along.

“Oh, na, na, na…” She imitated Beyonce in the video, walking cockily to the beginning of Don’t Hurt Yourself . She caught a glimpse of Paige, hands on her head, eyes doubled in size.

“Who the fuck do you think I am?!” Tahli shouted out, hanging Paige’s jaw. As Tahli belted out the lyrics, the crowd surged. Some shocked, others cheering.

“And keep ya money!” Tahli screamed from her stomach, none of her musical talents coming into play. She knew how to sing. But drunk and still-so-angry Tahli just wanted to scream. Beyonce would condone it.

“Bad mothafucka! God complex!” She smacked the microphone stand and it flew off the stage, crashing to the ground. Tahli slapped her free hand over her mouth, wide-eyed.

“Oops,” she echoed into the mic.

“Okay! That’s that. You gotta go.”

“I got her, sir. Please…just…”

“Get ya fucking hands off me! Don’t hurt me. Don’t hurt yaself!” Tahli shouted into the faces of what could have been three, or thirty, men in black shirts, manhandling her.

“Oh, my fucking God,” she heard Paige grumble from somewhere.

“Do you want me to call the cops?”

“Please don’t call the cops,” Paige’s voice begged, as Tahli struggled against someone lugging her toward the door.

“We just gotta let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be!” Tahli shrieked, writhing and slapping the beefy arms that carried her into the night.

Once in the Lexus, Paige combusted into laughter. Tahli dropped her head between her knees, trying to keep the world still.

“Yo, that was so fucking funny.”

“I ain’t even finish my song.”

“No. Yo’ ass finished alright,” Paige promised. As Tahli blinked—slow and long—a ringing phone blared.

“Hello,” Tahli warbled.

“Hello,” a sleepy voice answered.

“Yo,” Paige spoke, and Tahli looked over at her. Paige was driving. Abby’s name was lit up on the dash. Paige had called her through the car.

So, whose call did Tahli answer?

Tahli looked down at the EZ pass gadget she pulled from her ear. Quietly, she slipped it back into Paige’s cupholder before her friend realized how plastered she was.

“You should’ve seen this shit!” Paige exclaimed.

“Paige, it’s one o’clock in the morning.”

“Abbyyyyy,” Tahli sang to her friend’s groggy voice, rolling down the window.

“Tahli?”

“Abs, yo, I swear to God you would’ve died.

Fucking Tahli gets on stage at this open mic and starts singing Don’t Hurt Yourself at the top of her lungs.

She was singing in people’s faces and shit…

” Tahli didn’t remember that. “Then this bitch slaps the fucking mic stand off the stage and almost hits this lady at the table in front of her…”

Definitely didn’t remember that.

“Paige, what the fuck did you do?” Abby grilled.

“It wasn’t me!”

“Tahli…honey…what did you drink?” Abby sounded like the teacher Tahli was not behaving like.

“Tequilaaaaaaa…”

“Paige!”

“Yo. That shit was hilarious. I just sent you the video.”

“I have work. Please get home safe.”

When Abby disconnected, Tahli and Paige were still in hoots as they slowed to a light.

“You know who would’ve loved that? Lex,” Tahli answered herself. “That bitch loved her some Beyonce.”

Back was that disappearing filter between thoughts and actions. She hardly ever spoke of Lexie to Paige. Couldn’t take the evident heartache that would take over her friend’s gaze.

“That bitch thought she was Beyonce,” Paige murmured with a soft snort. Paige’s peripheral, with her gape through the windshield, showed a distant look of reflection.

“You were in love with her.”

Paige snapped eyes to Tahli through the dimness. Tahli didn’t have the sobriety to hold back.

“What?” Paige choked out.

“You were in love with her. That’s why you never loved anybody since.”

Paige’s orbs glazed over with a new familiar emotion to Tahli. Love lost.

“That’s fucking crazy. You’re drunk, Tah.”

Tahli only rested her heavy head on Paige’s shoulder, letting her eyes drift closed.