“Are you sure?” my sister asked, not for the first time. Not even for the hundredth, for that matter.
“I’m sure.”
“I don’t like you being sure.”
“I get that.” I sat on the bed in her suite’s spare bedroom, watching as she meticulously packed my case. My underwear had basically been alphabetized. “And I love you for it.”
She sighed, refolding one of my maternity tops for the third time. “I love you too. I’m just sorry it ended this way. He seemed so into you. I really thought he’d get his act together.”
“I guess some people are just wandering souls. They really are better off alone. They need their freedom more than they need love and companionship. Better to find out now than to keep persevering at a relationship that’s ultimately doomed because he’s unable to trust and commit.” I gave her the same brave, what-can-you-do smile I’d been wearing for the last twenty-four hours. My cheeks hurt. Much more and I’d have to ice my face.
“You’re so full of shit,” she sighed.
I smiled some more.
“Stop trying to appear so cool about it. I know full well the asshole has ripped your beating heart right out of your chest and stomped all over it with his huge black boots.”
“Nice visual.”
“I hate him. Next time we have a band dinner, I’m stabbing him with a fork.”
“You are not stabbing him with a fork,” I said, patting her hand. “You’re going to be perfectly polite and carry on with business as usual.”
Eyes narrowed, she gave me a stubborn look.
“For Mal’s sake,” I said. “I’ll go home and get the nursery sorted. It’ll be fine, Anne. Really.”
“Let me come with you.”
“No.” I shook my head determinedly. “Absolutely not. You’ve never been to Europe. You’ve been looking forward to this trip for months. It’s only six weeks. I’ll manage. Besides, honestly, I need the space right now.”
Her shoulders slumped in defeat. “You promise you’ll call me if you need me.”
I held up my hand. “I solemnly swear.”
“Hmm.”
“Killer and I are just going to hang out, take it easy.”
“He’s definitely going to be relieved to get out of the pet hotel. That’s one silver lining at least. The last few times I’ve called, he’s flat-out refused to speak to me.”
“He’s a dog, Anne. He can’t talk.”
More frowning. “But he used to make these little yipping noises and bark at me. You know what I mean. I’m worried this has given him abandonment issues. He’s a very sensitive animal. He’s like Mal, deep down, in a way.”
“He’s a lunatic who chases his own tail until he falls over,” I said. “Actually, he kind of is like Mal, you’re right.”
“True.” Anne nodded with a thoughtful look.
“Well, I promise to apply all of my psychology skills to resolving his issues before you return.” In my experience, Killer’s happiness could be bought with a pack of Canadian bacon and the destruction of one of Mal’s Converse. I’d already stolen a reasonably new-looking shoe out of Mal’s closet for just this purpose. The dog would be back to his usual tail-wagging, gleeful, psycho self in no time.
My own abandonment issues might take a little longer to resolve.
Tomorrow, Stage Dive moved on to Montreal, then Europe. Slightly sooner, in secret, I’d return to Oregon. Everyone was going to the concert tonight for the first performance of yet another song. I guess it was a new tradition to have everyone there. Nice. Seemed David was in fine writing form these days—touring agreed with him. While they were gone, I’d make my sneaky exit. Anne didn’t know, she thought I was leaving in the morning. But she’d understand. There’d been enough drama. A big emotional good-bye wouldn’t help anyone. Certainly not me. Staying in the same city as Ben, even for the last twenty-four hours, was grating on me. I ached to have his whole world behind me. I wasn’t being naive and pretending my grief wouldn’t be boarding that plane right along with me. It was more a feeling that I couldn’t even begin to move on until I could see this city recede into nothing through the little airline window. It would be all the closure I’d get.
Besides, the town of Seaside on the Oregon coast was beautiful this time of year. It also wouldn’t be where the press would expect me to turn up. I’d drive out there in the Mustang and get a room, something overlooking the ocean. A pretty view to help me pull myself together, to get over my disappointment and get myself in the right frame of mind for single motherhood. Me and Bean would be fine. Killer too, for that matter.
“You’re just going to go to sleep?” Anne asked, zipping up my case and lugging it off the bed.
“Yeah. I’ll take a shower and then crash. Thanks for helping me pack,” I said. “You better get going. The guys will be taking to the stage soon. And you know what traffic is like in New York.”
She dropped a kiss on top of my head. Then went crazy with both hands, messing up my hair like we were all of fourteen again or something.
“God, grow up, would you?” I groused, pushing my long locks back off my face.
“’Night.” She grinned. Marriage to Mal had apparently given her the childhood she’d missed out on the first time around, what with our parents’ selfishness. It was nice, if occasionally somewhat annoying. I really needed to remember to give her a wedgie in retribution, next time I saw her.
“’Night.”
She walked out with a final wave.
I sat perfectly still, waiting for the click of the outer door closing. Then, just to be certain, I waited another ten minutes. And … yes. Operation Make a Run for It was a go.
I slipped on my black flats and stuffed my blond hair up under a plain black baseball cap, raising the handle on my case. Done. My one-way ticket home had been booked earlier, during a particularly long stint in the john. It seemed the only place some concerned soul wouldn’t interrupt me every two minutes: Was I hungry? Nope. What about a drink? Nuh. How about a rehashing of the god-awful events of the night before, followed by a good long cry on concerned soul’s shoulder, with excessive hugging thrown in? No way. But thanks for asking.
I loved the girls. Honest to god I did. But right then I needed space from everyone.
I peeked my head out. Nada. Not a sign of security in sight. To be expected, given I’d promised to stay in my room and you could only access the floor with the special key. Down I went in the shiny elevator. Across the bright, busy ground floor I all but ran, towing my case behind me. My plane left in a little over two hours. Even with the hellish New York traffic, it should be plenty of time to reach the airport and get through security.
Outside, the night air was warm, alive with light and color. New York really was the city that never slept.
“Can I help you, miss?” a nice doorman asked me, holding out a gloved hand for my case.
“Yes, thank you. I’d like a cab to JFK, please.”
“Of course, miss.” He held up a hand, summoning a taxi like magic.
In no time at all my case was in the trunk and I was safely buckled in the back. That was when things went kind of wrong.
The car door opened and a large, smelly male slid in beside me. It’s a reality of these types of men, not often discussed. In the same way that cowboys stink of horse and cow crap, after a concert, rock stars reek of sweat—and lots of it. Kind of bursts the bubble somewhat, doesn’t it? But the stink alone narrowed down the cab-stealing stranger’s identity.
“Hey, Liz.”
“Vaughan?”
“How’s it going?”
I blinked. And then I blinked again, because he was still there, messing with my escape plan, damn it. “What are you doing here?”
Without so much as an as-you-please, he directed the cab driver to the stadium where Stage Dive was playing. The hundred-dollar bill he passed along with the instructions meant he got the driver’s attention. Not little old me.
“Any particular reason you’re hijacking my cab?” I asked.
“It was going to be Conn, but then, you haven’t really met him. We figured it’d freak you out less if it was me.”
“Right … right.” I nodded. “Doesn’t really answer the question.”
“Well, all of the other guys are busy playing, so it had to be one of us.” He slicked back his sweat-dampened hair with a hand and flashed me a smile. “Need you to see something.”
“What?”
“You’ll see.” He chuckled.
I chuckled along with him. “Wow. Yeah. I’m really going to miss you after I kill you and throw your body off the Brooklyn Bridge.”
“C’mon, don’t be like that. You don’t like what you see, I’ll make sure you still get to the airport with plenty of time to make your flight.”
“How do you know about that?” I leaned an elbow on the window ledge, trying to keep my cool. Not really succeeding. Outside the city lights sped by.
“Same way I was waiting for you to make your escape,” he said. “Sam.”
“Ah.” Trust the superspy security guy to be a step ahead of me. Jerk.
“Anyway, they figured I’d have a better chance at sweet talking you into coming along.”
“Did they now?” I showed him my teeth. It could have been misconstrued as a smile, but as previously noted, Vaughan was no dummy.
“Liz, please. If I didn’t think it’d be worth your while, no fucking chance I’d have let them talk me into this. I got no desire to have you hate me.”
I sighed determinedly. “Look,” I said, putting on my best laying-down-the-law voice, “all I want right now is to get all of this behind me as fast as I possibly can. I’m sick of being here. I’m sick of the band, and rock ’n’ roll, and most of all I’m sick of smiling through it all. I do think you’re sweet, and kudos to you for trying whatever you’re trying. But I am officially over it. I am so past over it.”
“Huh,” he said, sitting back in his seat and smiling out the window at the Manhattan lights. “I guess I’m the opposite, aren’t I? It’s all over for you and you can’t wait to get away. It’s all over for me too, and I just keep trying to squeeze out another few seconds from my fifteen minutes of fame. Your strategy does sound better. Figures, what with your psychiatry degree and all.”
“Psychology,” I corrected absently. I’d forgotten I wasn’t the only one who was dealing with a breakup of sorts. “I heard you guys were finishing, but it’s hardly all over for you, is it? I’ve seen you up onstage. You’ve got it going on just fine.”
Vaughan smiled sadly. “You’ve never really seen the rock ’n’ roll life, have you?” he asked. “You just got vaulted into the penthouse without getting a taste of the industry. For every Stage Dive there’s a hundred Down Fourths. A thousand. We had one or two hits. We backed up a major band. If we’d held on to that and managed to score a major label contract, who knows? Maybe it all would have happened. Rock superstars, platinum albums, and the cover of Rolling Stone. But we couldn’t keep it together. Too many egos and pissy little arguments, to the point we’re barely fucking talking to each other. Luke’s off to bigger and better things, sure. But for the rest of us it’s back to square one. At the end of the day, the last ten years don’t mean shit. I’m tired, Liz. Tired of sleeping in shitty hotels and always traveling and playing shows, trying to make enough to pay for just a little more studio time. I want to go home and see my family, wake up and actually know what town I’m in. I want to see if there’s a better way to do this that doesn’t cost me my sanity and fuck with my liver every night of the week.”
“You’re right, I never thought of any of it like that.”
He scrubbed at his face with his hands, gave me that same sad smile again. “I love the music. Always have, always will. But maybe the constant push to get big enough to play stadiums isn’t for me.”
“Maybe not.”
“Maybe I’ll find a girl like you who isn’t already pregnant and is all over finding me bare-ass naked. A girl who won’t even think about asking me to cover up.”
I laughed, covering my face with my hands. “I really hope you find her, Vaughan. You’re a great guy. You deserve the best.”
“Thanks. Anyway, enough of my shit. Come with me to the concert,” he said, his voice quiet. “Maybe it can be the last crazy thing you do with a rock star. Maybe it can be the last crazy thing I do as a rock star.” He smiled, but his eyes looked sad.
Resigned.
Slowly, also resigned, I breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth. “I better not miss that flight, Vaughan.”
“You come along with me and don’t like what you see or hear … the minute you say so, I’ll get you out of there and it’s a Stage Dive limo straight to the airport. Deal?”
“You know, you should get out of rock ’n’ roll and do psychology,” I grumbled. “Deal.”
* * *
Backstage hadn’t changed any. Lots of busy people and equipment on the go.
With no fuss we made our way through security, one of Sam’s men appearing at my back. No one questioned us further once he was there. Vaughan took control of my luggage—more in case I tried to make a run for it than to be helpful, I think. I’d never imagined being in this position again—access to all areas, escorted down hallways and up stairs to the side of the stage. I wasn’t a girlfriend anymore. I wasn’t anything.
So what the hell was this all about?
The band were playing “Last Back,” a hit off the previous album. Anne, Ev, and Lena were over on the other side of the stage, weirdly enough. I was pretty much on my own, apart from some sound guys and Pam, the tour photographer. She was a nice woman, married to Tyler, one of the favored sound engineers. They’d both been with the band for ages.
When Anne saw me, she cocked her head curiously, giving me a wave.
I waved back but stayed put.
The song came to an earsplitting crescendo, finishing with a staccato frenzy of belted chords. At point-blank range the noise shuddered up through my ankles and quivered my spine. The fans went wild.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” purred Jimmy, in full leading-man mode, standing front and center on the stage. Clad in black pants with a black button-down shirt, the cuffs rolled back to reveal some of his ink. “Got something special for you tonight.”
Lots of screaming from out in the stadium. I covered my ears, but too late. Holy hell. Inside my belly, the squirmy sensation came again.
Huh.
“Benny-boy, our bass player here, has a little something he’d like to say.”
And I’d been trying so hard not to look at him. My face felt brittle, my eyes hot and hard. He handed over his favorite bass, the Gibson Thunderbird, to a roadie. His gaze strayed over to me as he walked up to the microphone. He knew I was there. Even in the darkness outside the footlights, he saw me.
Jimmy gave his shoulder a squeeze and then stepped back. Ben moved a hand up to cradle the microphone, but his eyes stayed on mine, his face sideways to the crowd. I shouldn’t have come. Sweat poured out of my palms, from within my clenched fists. Far more than the night air could account for.
It would be okay. This was nothing special, surely. Just some weird variation on a rock star good-bye. These guys, they always did things big. Maybe there’d be a sorry-it-all-went-to-shit song just for me. How sweet.
Ben wore the typical black boots, blue jeans, and a faded gray T-shirt with some band name on it. His usual uniform. Man, if only he’d stop staring at me. It was like he held me immobile. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.
“Hey,” he said, his voice filling the night air, magnified however many thousand times. Once again the crowd went wild. Some started chanting his name, screaming out I love yous and the like. Who the hell could ever compete with this? The mass adulation. The worship of a crowd of this magnitude. I’d never stood a chance.
“Know there’s been a lot of shit in the papers lately, gossip about my becoming a father.” The long dark hair on top of his head had escaped whatever styling product they’d used. It fell around his face, strands catching on his beard. “I wanted to set things straight tonight.”
More mania from the crowd. General confusion from me. This all could have been done without my presence. Easily. Hell, he could have held a press conference tomorrow, when I’d be on the other side of the country, licking my wounds and rebuilding my life. Why this? My emotions had been through the mill enough already.
I turned to leave but Vaughan caught my arm, halting me.
“Give it one more minute,” he said.
“Oh for fuck’s sake.” I turned, not so barely holding in my temper. Not even sorry I’d sworn. Fucking Ben fucking Nicholson. Well he could just fuck right off, couldn’t he? Yes he fucking could. Not a single fucking fire truck needed to be involved in the entire process.
I looked back to find him staring straight back at me, dark eyes searing into me, despite the distance. One fucking minute, that’s all he had. And I’m pretty damn certain by the set of my lips he knew it too.
“I love you, Lizzy,” he said.
Everything stopped. It was like the world held its breath. I know I did, stunned.
“I was a fucking idiot not to say it to you sooner.” His hand tightened on the microphone, the lines of tension embedded deep in his face. “Shit was just changing so fast and I … I got scared.”
Talk about making a public statement. Holy hell. The beat of silence dissolved, and the screaming and cat-whistling of the crowd came close to drowning out his words. As for me, I could barely believe my ears.
“You can have my time, and you can have my attention,” he said, words slow and deliberate. “Sweetheart, you can have whatever the fuck you want, I promise. Whatever you need. No more holding back, no more fear. And if you still feel you have to get on that plane tonight, then we’re doing it together.”
I sucked in a deep breath, what with my body urgently needing it and all. White dots receded and I saw him clearly once again, standing before me, offering everything. I swayed slightly, the squirming sensation inside stronger this time, more definite. Vaughan and the security guy each grabbed an arm, keeping me upright.
Ben bolted across the stage toward me, grabbing me carefully around the waist and shifting me onto the stage, beneath the heat of the bright lights. I could hear the crowd screaming, but they sounded distant, otherworldly.
“What’s wrong?” asked Ben, eyes panicked.
“She’s moving,” I said, one hand on his shoulder and the other on my belly. “She’s moving, Ben. I felt her move. Our baby.”
He buried his face in my hair, keeping me close, taking my weight.
“I didn’t know what it was before, but it’s her. Isn’t that amazing?”
“Yeah, that’s wild.”
“Your voice was so loud, she must have heard it and recognized it.” I smiled at him in amazement.
He swept me off my feet, holding me high and striding toward the center of the stage. “That’s great, Liz. It really is. But, sweetheart, I need to know if you heard me too.”
Slowly, I nodded, putting my palm to his face, against the bristle of his beard. “I heard you.”
“What do you say?”
I took a moment, thinking it through. Big, life-changing decisions deserve at least a second of contemplation. “We don’t have to get on that plane.”
“Okay,” he exhaled hard, smiling.
“And I love you too.”
His smile stretched his beard wide. “I know I’m going to fuck up now and then, but just stick with me, okay? I don’t want to do shit without you. I don’t want to be places where you’re not. That’s not who I am anymore.”
“We’ll work it out.”
“Yeah. We will.” He covered my lips with his, kissing me stupid.
“Everybody,” Ben said into the microphone, his voice once more filling the stadium. “This is my girl, Liz. Say hi. We’re going to be having a baby.”
And that was that.