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My Kind of Forever
  • Текст добавлен: 29 сентября 2016, 01:37

Текст книги "My Kind of Forever"


Автор книги: Heidi McLaughlin



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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

T he motorcycle speeds by, dangerously close to the limousine. Sam is yelling at the driver to step on it while the driver is cussing at her in some language I’ve never heard before. We’re a wreck waiting to happen.

“The windows are tinted and we’re over an hour early for our flight. What’s the rush, Sam?” Harrison asks, as he pulls the strap on his seatbelt. His gesture reminds me to put mine on, and I kick JD in the shoe and motion for him to buckle up as well. I can feel Sam glaring at me, but I don’t care. I’m not a free spirit like her.

“It’s the rush, Harrison. You’re rockers. Live on the edge, be free, and take a fucking risk every now again.”

“I have a son, which means he needs me.” Harrison pushes the button that drops the window between us and the driver. “Slow down my friend. We’re in no hurry. Don’t listen to the crazy bitch.”

“Ah fuck,” I mumble as Sam’s face turns red. If she were a cartoon character, steam would be billowing out of her ears right now. Harrison doesn’t give a shit though, and neither should I, but I’m always the one that gets stuck with her.

As luck would have it, she doesn’t say anything. For now, that’s a good thing, but he’ll likely pay later. Harrison has asked me repeatedly what I see in her. Truth is, I’m not sure. Most of the time she’s a ragging bitch, but other times she’s sweet and can be one of the nicest people I know. I don’t know if she’s suffering from a bad case of PMS or what, but she and Harrison do not get along.

The second we pull up to the terminal my seatbelt is off and I’m out the door. I’m not waiting for the driver to come around to let me out. That’s not who I am even if that’s who Sam wants me to be. I can also carry my own bags and wheel my own suitcase, another habit that drives her batty.

At LAX the paps are everywhere. It’s harder than hell to get through the terminal without getting your picture taken. And there’s no point in fighting it. So while the car is being unloaded, Harrison, JD and I stand here with our bags in our hands while our manager is barking orders at anyone who will listen. Why we’re flying when the rest of our crew is on the tour bus, I have no idea, but I don’t like it. I think treating them differently is wrong and the fact that they’re leaving their families for months on end to live on the road, is a sacrifice they’re willing to make and I should be making it too.

Flash bulbs are going off like crazy. Our names are being called and told to look in their direction. We ignore them, but don’t move from our spots, giving them ample opportunity to get their images. We’re asked personal questions. Most of them invade our privacy. My favorites are about my mystery love child, mine and Sam’s wedding (which will never happen) and if I’m sleeping with the newest ‘it’ girl.

When I first arrived on the scene, I’d answer anything. Unless it had to do with back home, those questions were dodged like a bullet. That was my old life, one I didn’t want to bring into my new life... or to even think about it, truth be told. The memories of home are painful and I’m still trying to get over them.

Walking through the terminal, we follow Sam, who manages to power walk in five inch heels. She makes us follow behind her, forgetting that she works for us. A couple times we’ve talked about firing her, moving on to a different company, but when you look at the numbers and the tours and venues we’re playing in, you can’t help but give her some credit for getting us where we are. Yes, it’s our music, but she’s the one who is selling us to the promoters. No, firing her would be a bad idea, even if she drives us to drink.

A luxury of having money is that we fly first class, and we get to wait in the lounge until our names are called. It never fails that we’ll run into a fan or two, but for the most part they just want to talk. They just want to get to know us and feel like we’re all on the same level which is nice and relaxing until you meet the one crazy who was able to upgrade her flight. That’s when Sam steps in. That’s when she’s very useful for us at the airport.

As soon as our plane touches down, the telltale clicking of seatbelts being slid out of their buckles echo throughout the cabin, breaking the standard rule of waiting until we’re stopped at the gate. For the first time in years, we flew coach. Our last flight had been with Sam, giving each of us someone to share a seat with. I was always with her while Harrison and JD sat next to each other. This time we just took up a row, keeping our arm rests pushed back and our trays full of work.

Gone are the days where fans would greet us at the airport and paparazzi are here happily clicking the shutter button on their cameras for tomorrow’s spread in Page Six. The lackluster fanfare for our arrival is disappointing, not that I expected anything different.

“Didn’t you tweet that we were arriving?” I had asked JD to post what time we were arriving, hoping to stir up some attention. Apparently, tweeting your location only works in Beaumont because we’re standing in the wide open at LAX and people are passing us right and left without a second glance. This is freaking Los Angeles, and no one cares that 4225 West is standing in the airport looking like idiots, begging for attention.

“Yeah, I did,” he says, pulling out his phone. He rambles off the number of favorites and retweets he’s received, but none of them matter. The lack of a welcoming crowd only proves what I’ve been saying all along: We need to be in Los Angeles if we want to be successful. This place is what makes or breaks you and right now, we’re definitely broken.

“Well boys, we’re back,” Harrison says as he shoulders his bag.

“We should have a car waiting to take us to the Wilshire.”

“Your home away from home,” JD says, reminding me that I used to live there. My happiest memory is the day that Josie came to my place for dinner. I wanted to seduce her; remind her of the connection we had and could still have. I was on the cusp of doing something foolish, but pulled back. She was promised to another man and as much as I didn’t care about him, I cared about her.

When we step outside, the black Town Car is there to take us to the hotel. I don’t know why I chose the Wilshire. It was either familiarity, convenience, or just out of habit, but I’m currently second-guessing myself. There’s too much history and bad memories mixed with only one good one. We pile in, with me being the last one inside the car. As soon as I shut the door, I want to beat the shit out of Harrison and JD for not bailing as soon as they saw Mr. Moreno across from them.

“What the fuck are you doing in my car?” I ask, not sugar coating the hostility rolling off my tongue.

He takes off his hat. He’s aged tremendously since the last time we saw him. Our last encounter was in court when we filed a restraining order against Sam, and if I’m not mistaken that included Moreno Entertainment. Truth be told, the only thing the old man did wrong was protect his daughter. Any father would, but when you’re running a business sometimes you need to forget your employees are family.

“I thought we could talk business.”

“We’re not interested,” Harrison says. JD and I both nod in agreement.

Moreno cracks a smile. His bald head is shining thanks to the oncoming headlights and I find myself trying not to laugh. If Noah were here, he’d be cracking jokes and this would be the one time I’d tell him not to mind his elders.

“It’s no secret you guys are struggling.” His voice is gruff, sounding like he’s had one too many cigars. He probably has, although I’ve never seen him with one. I’ve spent ample time in his mansion, being catered to while I sat by the pool, and not once did I see this man smoke. Drink, yes. He can handle his liquor better than anyone I know.

I shake my head, biting the inside of my cheek. “We’re fine.”

He scoffs, knowing the truth. “Your manager is good, but he doesn’t have the nuts to get you guys the deals you’re used to. You guys are has-beens when you were destined to be on top. You packed up for your lala land life and look at where it’s got you… playing free gigs at your wife’s café.”

All three of us are silent and still, knowing he’s right. But I did this. What I should’ve done was break up the band so they could pursue their careers. Instead, they followed me and started their lives, getting married and raising kids. I mean, that’s what we are now... family men.

Moreno leans forward pointing his hat at us. “You know I’m right and you know you miss it. You miss seeing your name in lights, flashing across the marquee. You want to hear your fans screaming your name, crawling over each other just so they can touch you. The bright lights of movie premieres, award shows and having that spotlight shine down on you, illuminating you from darkness it’s why you became the group you are.”

“We’re fine,” I say out of spite, but my voice lacks the conviction. I never want to admit a man like him is right, but fuck if he’s not.

“Keep telling yourself that, Page. I can see it in your eyes. All of your eyes.”

The car comes to a stop and Mr. Moreno starts to slide out. He doesn’t look at me, only Harrison and JD. “Don’t let this idiot ruin your careers. You know how to reach me.”

Before any of us can rebuke his comment, the door is slammed shut and we’re speeding down the road. The silence is so thick a chainsaw wouldn’t be able to hack through it. I keep my eyes down, unable to face my friends, my family. I don’t want to know what they’re thinking and I’m in no mood to tell them what I am. They don’t need to know that I’ve been considering moving back to L.A., that I’ve been trying to find a way to make it work before I give Josie the proposal. Each time I think about bringing it up, I remind myself of how selfish I am for even considering it. I came back to Beaumont for her and Noah. They didn’t come for me.

I don’t realize that we’ve stopped until the door is open and the driver is welcoming us to the Wilshire. I’m suddenly sick to my stomach with fear, thinking that as soon as I step out of this car and onto the streets of Los Angeles, I’m making yet another mistake. It seems fitting since the last time I made a life-altering mistake it had to do with this place. There’s a power here that controls you, it guides and destroys if you’re not careful. I need to be careful.

“Welcome home, Mr. Page. The Wilshire family has missed you.” A short brunette greets me and instantly wraps her arm in mine before she guides us into the lobby. Harrison and JD are left behind with the bags. I try to stop and wait with them, but her grip is firm and before I know it, we’re in front of the elevator for the penthouses. Pulling my arm out, I put my hand up.

“I need to wait for my friends.”

This doesn’t seem to please her, evident by the frown on her face, but I don’t care. For all I know she’s an escort sent by Moreno. If he’s testing my loyalty to Josie, he’s a moron. There isn’t a chick on this planet that can compete with my wife. And every other woman I’ve ever been with, including his daughter, I always compared to my Jojo. That should tell him something.

Harrison frowns when I reach him, and I just shake my head. I have no doubt we’re thinking the same thing. As much as it would skyrocket our career, bring us to the forefront of mainstream, being with Moreno Entertainment is deadly. I hate to admit he’s right, though, we need him, or someone like him. The only benefit of working with him is getting to stay in Beaumont. Everyone else will want us here or in New York.

As soon as we’re checked in and keys are handed over, we’re dragging our sorry asses into the elevator. Too many thoughts are filtering through my mind as we speed to the top floors and it takes a shoulder bump from JD to let me know we’re about to get off.

We go opposite ways, each of us with our own places. We did this because Jenna and Eden are coming out in a few days to stay with JD. No one needs to be privy to what goes on behind their closed door. It makes me wonder if Katelyn will bring the kids out. I’m sure if she does, they’ll stay at their beach house. And that leaves me. Josie won’t fly to LA because of the café, and Noah’s baseball schedule... and the fact that the baby will be here any day now. I’ll be left alone to contemplate and stress about the band and whether we’re going to continue. We have two options: Stay in Beaumont and do small shows every now and again, or return to the band we were when we were in high demand. I miss those days.

Opening the door to the penthouse, it’s like déjà vu; even though this isn’t the one I used to live in, it’s just decorated the same. It’s an eerie feeling, being back here, and realizing how easy... and yet lonely... my life really was.

Last night I lay in bed and cried. I let my tears soak Liam’s pillow as I hugged it to my chest. Every thought I had ended up the same… my husband is gone. It’s not the first time he’s gone on tour. He’s been to New York to see their somewhat manager, Gary. Each time I’ve been okay with his trips, until now. There’s something about Los Angeles that scares me. I can’t put my finger on it, aside from the fact that it’s the place that ended us. If his grandmother hadn’t lived there, he would’ve never gone. Liam could’ve easily played music while living in Texas for college or… no, there isn’t an “or” because LA was his calling and he probably would’ve ended up there with or without his grandma.

The house feels empty even though everything is still in its place. Everywhere I look, I see Liam. I just can’t sense him. I flick the light illuminating our closet. Most of his clothes are gone, which is hard for me to fathom. If this trip is supposed to be short, why did he need to take everything? Wouldn’t he just pack a few things, enough to get him by? His missing wardrobe feels like there’s finality in this situation, that we’re over, but he couldn’t tell me. I know better than to think like that.

I pick up a few of his things that are scattered on the floor and put them in the hamper before making my way into the bathroom. Every woman dreams of having a master suite with a large walk in closet and a bathroom big enough so that two people can share without feeling cramped. At one point, this was my dream. When I was younger, I knew what football players were making and how lavishly they lived. I selfishly wanted that. I wanted our house to be featured on television and written about in the press. It was my dream to live like Cinderella after I married my prince. And now that I have it, I’d give it all up just to have Liam walk through the door with a shit-eating grin on his face, announcing he’s home.

It’s not going to happen. That’s what I tell myself as I look at my reflection in the mirror. The lack of sleep is evident by the puffy bags under my eyes. Coupled with my blood-shot-red-rimmed eyes, it looks like I’ve been on an all-night bender. He hasn’t even been gone twenty-four hours and I already look like death. I’m not sure I have enough concealer or eye drops to hide the fact that I’m a wreck.

“The girls will look the same,” I mutter to the mirror that sadly doesn’t answer. It’s ridiculous that I hope Katelyn and Jenna had the same shitty night I did.

After a long, hot shower, doing my hair and attempting to conceal the bags under my eyes, I’m stepping into a baby blue sundress. Today is my baby shower, or rather a shower for the baby boy we’re about to adopt. I told the girls that I didn’t need one, but they insisted.

As I smooth down the front of my dress, my hand rests over my stomach. The absence of a baby there while having a baby shower is not lost on me. I’m over the moon that we’re able to adopt... that Aubrey was kind of enough to think of us... but having our own child is something I wanted Liam to experience with me. Now he’s not even experiencing this moment and I find myself wondering if I were as pregnant as Meredith is now, would he have left… again? I try not to compare the first time to now. Had Liam known, he would’ve stayed.

When I get downstairs, Noah is sitting at the table with his hands folded. He looks up and smiles, reminding me of a young Liam, and dressed in his Sunday best. I can’t get over how much he resembles his father and as long as he doesn’t act like him, I’ll be okay. I know what Liam was like in high school because I was on the receiving end. I shudder at the thought of Noah taking girls to the dugouts, or having sex in this car. I have promised myself, though, that I’ll be accepting of any girl he brings home. I’ll never make her feel unwanted, whether I like her or not. No one should have to go through what I did.

“Are you ready?”

He rolls his eyes and stands reluctantly.

“Quinn will be there.”

Noah shrugs. I know he and Quinn don’t always get along. Noah loves his sports while Quinn is more artistic. They both enjoy music and video games, but Noah is more drawn to Peyton and I think it’s because he’s known her longer and they share a bond over Mason. I also think that Noah resents Quinn a little because he’s grown up with Liam, something Noah didn’t have a chance to do.

The drive over to Katelyn’s is quiet. Noah stares out the window, only turning his head more when he sees some of his friends at the park.

“You can go later if you want,” I tell him as we drive past.

“I’ll call my… Nick,” he says, finishing his sentence. I pat his leg, only for him to move slightly away. The gesture isn’t lost on me. He’s getting older and having his mom touch him isn’t cool.

“I know Nick will like that.” Nick wants to tell Noah that Aubrey is pregnant. I just hope Noah takes it better than the adoption news. He doesn’t realize this now, but I have a feeling he’s going to be an amazing big brother.

The neighborhood where Harrison and Katelyn live is lined with cars. As I make my way to their house there’s a spot in the driveway saying “Reserved for Expectant Mom”.

“I think that’s where you park,” Noah says as I pull in.

“You think so?” I ask, hoping to engage him in a little bit of conversation.

“Yeah, they need you close so you can carry all that crap you’re getting today.”

I look at him questioningly and he shrugs. “What? I looked a baby shower up online and I bet tonight you’ll be sitting in the baby’s room going over everything, saying how I was once that tiny.”

“You were,” I remind him, earning an eye-roll.

He opens his door without saying anything. I hate that he’s growing up. It won’t be long until he’s heading off to the same overnight camps that Liam went to and entering high school. He’ll be walking the same halls that Liam commanded and at the pace he’s going with football, he’ll be making his own mark. Liam has already told him that there’s no shadow looming over him and he’s his own player. That is the one thing Liam fears – that Noah will be compared to him. Neither of us wants that for Noah.

Before I know what’s happening, my son is opening my car door and holding his hand out for me to grab.

“Thank you,” I tell him, my voice catching when he holds his arm out for me to hang onto.

“Dad said I needed to be the man of the house and he would do this, right?”

“He would,” I nod, trying to hold back tears of happiness.

Noah guides me into Katelyn’s house, which has been decorated in massive amounts of blue. Old classmates that I haven’t seen in a long time greet me with congratulatory expressions. A few of them ask where Liam is and I want to say at home because men usually don’t attend baby showers, but I tell them he’s working. Always working.

My mom greets us at the door, offering me a quick hug before crouching down to talk to Noah. He’s taller than her, but she likes looking up at him.

Eden comes running toward me and I scoop her up, relishing in her tiny baby hugs. She babbles non-stop as she and I have our own conversation until she wants down so she can chase the kids. Katelyn and Jenna both pull me into a hug; a hug that means something different to everyone else here. We’re going through something a lot of women don’t understand and as long as we have each other, we should be okay. At least that’s what I’m going to tell myself every day until my husband is back in my arms.

When we pull apart I see the same worry in their faces that I wear on mine. I want to reassure them that everything will be fine, but I can’t even bring myself to think that. This trip means something different for me than it does them. I have a bad feeling that I can’t shake.

“There’s food, lots and lots of food,” Katelyn says as she pulls me into the dining room. The twins are dressed identical in dresses, much to Peyton’s chagrin. If ever there were a walking definition of a tomboy, she’s it. Someday she’ll want to wear dresses; she just doesn’t know it yet. Quinn smiles and starts filling his plate full of food.

“Are you staying?” I ask him.

He shakes his head quickly as his cheeks turn a beautiful pink. “I’ll be upstairs waiting for Noah so we can play video games.”

“I’m sure he’s looking forward to that, Quinn.” He doesn’t say anything else and quickly leaves the room after more women come in.

I make myself a plate of food and grab something to drink. Katelyn signals for me to follow her into the living room where I’m directed to sit in a large chair.

“We’re going to help pass out presents, Aunt Josie,” Elle says, as Peyton sits down next to me.

“You can sit here and help me open them if you want,” I tell her, knowing she’ll be up as soon as she sees her sister getting all the attention. Looking at Peyton, quiet and a bit withdrawn, I want to yell and shake Liam for taking Harrison away from her. She’s just a little girl who wants to be with her dad but can’t.

Everyone gathers around me; most are holding conversations amongst themselves and every now and again I hear Liam’s name. The mumbled mention of him being gone again when another baby is on the way strikes a nerve. I want to stand up and yell, telling them to stop being jealous, catty bitches but I refrain.

Noah appears before me, proudly handing me a present. “Open this one first, Mom. It’s from Dad and me.” Once again I have to fight the tears from coming as I tear open the blue paper.

“It’s a beautiful box,” I tell him, winking. He shakes his head and smiles, knowing that I’m playing with him.

“Open it,” he encourages.

And I do. I lift the lid of the blue box and pull out the velvet box inside. I open the creaking lid and it reveals two Tiffany baby rattles with blue ribbons.

“Dad says we’ll have the baby’s name put on it once you guys decide what to call him.”

“And this one?” I hold up the second one that has Noah’s named engraved. He shrugs and tries to hide his smile.

“I read that moms like these so Dad had one made for me so the baby and I could match.”

There’s no hiding the tears this time as I pull him into my arms. “Thank you, Noah, I love it.”

“You’re welcome, Mom.” I hate that he pulls away so quickly, but I get it. I dab at my eyes and pray that my make-up isn’t running. I don’t need any pictures depicting me as the Bride of Frankenstein today.

I slide my phone out of the pocket in my dress and type a text to Liam.

Thank you. I love the rattles and I love you.

I hold my phone for a second longer, waiting for the conversation bubble to pop up. When it doesn’t, I try not to let that bother me. I know he’s busy. That he’s working. But I want to be a priority and want him answering every text I send as soon as I send it.

Now that the first present is out of the way, Elle has me flooded with more. Peyton has taken the job of moving the presents around to all the guests so they can “ooh” and “aah” at all of the cuteness. I’m opening everything from washcloths to clothes, including onesies that say, “I’m with the Band” and “My Dad Sings All the Lullabies”. Images of Liam singing to our son flood my mind. I can’t wait to see him sitting in the nursery, rocking his son to sleep.

All chatter stops when the doorbell rings. I look around and don’t notice anyone missing, unless it’s Harrison’s sister and mom, but they wouldn’t ring the bell.

“I don’t think she wants you here,” I hear Katelyn say, causing some concern.

“Excuse me for a minute,” I tell everyone as I walk toward the door. When I enter the foyer I see the cause of Katelyn’s raised voice.

“What are you doing here?” I ask my very absent mother-in-law who is standing on the porch holding a gift. The usual defiance is gone as she stands there looking at me. Liam has only seen her a few times since he moved home, and never longer than five minutes or so. To say they don’t have a relationship is an understatement. I know she’s been making attempts to visit Noah, although she never makes it further than the driveway.

“Bianca,” my mother says from behind me. I can feel her hand on the small of my back, and I can’t tell if she’s pushing me forward or trying to hold me back. “I’m so happy you could make it.”

Katelyn and I turn to look at my mom, who is ignoring both of us. She steps forward and pushes the screen door open so Bianca can step in.

“I’m sorry I’m late. My nerves got the best of me.”

“It’s understandable, but there’s plenty of party food left,” my mom says as she ushers my mother-in-law into the other room. I can hear her make introductions as Katelyn and I stare at each other.

“Did you know?”

She shakes her head. Of course she didn’t because she wouldn’t allow it.

I bite my lip, trying to keep the anger away, but it’s rolling in like a bad storm. “What am I going to do?”

Katelyn places both hands on my shoulders and looks me square in the eyes. “You’re going to go in there and act like you own the place. Do not let that woman ruin your day.”

I nod, but can’t bring myself to think positively. I pull out my phone, hoping for a text from Liam, but there isn’t one.

Your mother just showed up at my shower!!!!! WTF??


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