Chapter 14
Four days. No text. No call. I’m back in purgatory, and all I did was ask Chrissie to marry me.
Frozen out.
What does it mean?
I wonder if she’s considering my proposal, or if she’s busy doing other things. Is she thinking about me? Does she miss me as much as I miss her?
Over and over again. Same thoughts. It’s pointless. I won’t know what’s going on with Chrissie until she tells me. That’s how it works. Some things never change.
I’m tired of bouncing off the walls. I go for a run on the beach, take a fast shower and dress. Before heading out, I check my phone one last time. I scroll through the messages.
No, nothing from Chrissie.
With my thumb I go through the list again—same old shit. My thumb lifts from the phone.
Ah, Kenny.
Asshole.
None of the guys have called me since Len broke the news that the band would be going on permanent hiatus after the final leg of the tour. Kenny must have decided enough time has passed for me to cool off so that it would safe to talk to me.
I hit the callback button anyway.
Ring. Ring.
“What the fuck are you doing in LA?” Kenny says into the phone by way of greeting, in a manner that leaves little doubt he knows the unabridged 411 about the sorry state of my life.
I grimace. Fuck you, Len. You’re such an old woman. Why can’t you keep your big mouth shut?
I lean back into the cushions on the couch. “Sitting around in Malibu with my cock in my hand doing nothing. I was about to head out.”
Kenny laughs. “You want to lay down some drum tracks today? I’m in Encino. My usual LA gang. Just messing around in the studio. Seeing what the fuck we can do. We need a drummer. You free?”
Free? Fucking understatement of the century.
I sigh. “Same studio as last time?”
“Yep, same one.”
“I can pop over there for a while.”
I click off the phone. The thought of spending the afternoon in that hot, poorly ventilated recording space Kenny books isn’t uplifting. But why the fuck shouldn’t I do it? I’ve got nothing better on the calendar for the afternoon.
My choices for diversion are limited now that I’m back with Chrissie. No parties. No sex—unless with her, and our status is no sex at present—and I put on the list this time without being asked by her no synthetic recreation or excess booze. Time to clean up my act now that I’m a father. But I’ve wiped from the possibilities list everything I do to keep busy when I’m not touring.
I do feel better physically with all the healthy living shit, though. And hell, it’s only been a week. Not so bad. Except the no sex part. That’s a fucking misery.
The recording studio in Encino is intolerably stuffy when I arrive. Kenny’s mob consists of three other musicians, marquee members of other bands. They’re OK guys.
I’m bombarded with fast greetings, spiced with the usual shit—short versions of what everyone’s been up to and questions about what I’m doing—then we get down to it and start jamming.
Doing drums—instead of guitar, which is what everyone except Kenny pulls me into studios to do—feels good. I should do it more often. A great way to work the tension out of my body and some of the sexual frustration until Chrissie decides she wants to see me again.
Ten hours later, I’m loose, sweaty, drained and lying on a couch listening to the playback of the tape we rolled today. We haven’t done a damn thing worth recording, not in my opinion, but this is Kenny’s gig so what the fuck do I care if it’s not brilliant?
Kenny shoves a bottle across the floor. I open my eyes. He’s still sitting there across the room from me, even though everyone else has cut out for the night, and not so subtly studying me, wondering if we’re OK.
I guess it’s time for us to clear the air but, fuck, I’m not giving him an easy way to feel good about what they did behind my back since the band didn’t even fucking tell me to my face together. I deserve better than that from each of those pricks.
“So you’re not even going to fucking drink with me?” Kenny asks, staring at the bottle of JD he slid over to me on the floor. He shakes his head. “We’ve been friends since we were teenagers, man. Don’t make the band an issue between us. It’s the right move, Manny. We’re still a band. Just not going to be a working band.”
“Fuck you, Kenny. Don’t patronize me. I don’t give a fuck about the band. All you fucking wankers can do what you want.”
“Then have a drink with me so I know we’re cool.”
I lift up my bottle of chilled water. “I’m sticking with aqua these days. Cutting down on the bad living, the cigarettes and the booze.”
He rolls his eyes, frustrated, and runs his fingers through his hair. “If you fucking give up bad living, cigarettes and booze all in the same week your body will drop dead from detox.”
“Fuck you, Kenny.”
He laughs. “Remmy is out of town. I’m flying solo. Want to do dinner? Hit a party? Some clubs or something? It’s too early to fucking go home.”
Remmy. Kenny’s wife. Never could stand the woman. Linda is right. Kenny did remarry too soon after his last divorce.
I exhale. “No. It’s late. I think I’m just going to go back to Malibu.”
“It’s fucking ten thirty, you wanker. What’s the matter? Been having some rough nights lately, have you?”
“Something like that,” I answer ambiguously.
“Chrissie,” he says, laying his head back against the wall and laughing. “Someday you’re going to have to explain to me how an asshole like you managed to stay in the game with her this long. She’s a fucking incredible woman.”
My temper spikes. Thanks a lot, Len, for running your mouth to no doubt everyone we know.
Kenny’s eyes open. “By the way, congratulations. After all this fucking time you and Chrissie back together again and you’ve got a kid. It’s the way it should be. The two of you together. Finally. There’s still time, mate. Enough time to have some of the things in life worth doing. I’m glad you both decided to stop wasting time.”
Oh Christ, Kenny being philosophical in his uniquely moronic way. Still time…blow me. He’s on his way to divorce court again. Nope, not staying and drinking with him and listening to him ramble on about Remmy. Time to cut out.
I move to sit up on the couch and finish my water. I toss the bottle into the trash and stand. “Well, you know what cowboys say. You ride the horse until it bucks you off then you ride it again.”
Fuck, that was idiotic, but it makes Kenny laugh.
“One would think you’d figured out how to ride that horse by now,” he jeers. “Hey, it’s a little girl, right?”
“Yes. Khloe. She’s five months.” I try to sound casual over it, but it still sends a current across my nerves every time I think of her.
Kenny laughs again. “Fuck, you guys didn’t waste any time after Jesse’s death. Better marry Chrissie soon. Not take any chances this go around or you’ll lose her, mate.”
I ignore that comment. “Good night.”
“Do you have a picture of your daughter?”
I’m shocked that he asked, then shocked when I realize that I don’t.
I change the subject. “Come on. I am hungry. Let’s go grab something to eat.”
We leave the studio and meet up again at an elite rockers’ club in West Hollywood a few blocks from the Whiskey. I make it to the front door, powering through the standard array of bullshit to get into the damn place—fans, press—and blow past the interference inside—ex-lovers and women hoping to fill that slot tonight—and find Kenny already seated in a red leather booth in the back of the joint.
Fuck, why did Kenny pick here to eat? It’s packed, there’s live music, and I just wanted something quiet, fast and no hassle. But Kenny can’t spend one minute out of the mix. It’s like a drug for him. No wonder his life has turned to shit again.
By the time we’ve finished, Kenny’s drunk and I’m still nursing my first glass of wine, ready to take off, but he won’t fucking stop rambling. Yep, his marriage is falling apart. It doesn’t seem right not to listen.
Kenny stands up. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to hit the head.”
I watch him disappear into the crowd. I reach for my phone. It’s bugged me since Kenny asked. Fuck, it’s midnight. Too late to call. I decide to text.
Me: Can I have a picture?
I set my phone on the table, finish my wine, and my cell dings just as I’m about to slip quietly away from the table before Kenny returns.
Chrissie: A picture, huh? At this hour? Someone is missing me and having nasty thoughts. It’s nice to know.
I smile. I didn’t expect her to be awake. I didn’t expect her to answer so promptly after staying out of contact for days. And I didn’t expect the answer to be that.
Me: Always missing you. Always having nasty thoughts. What are you doing?
Chrissie: Linda stopped by. Just talking. What did you do today? Where are you?
Me: Spent the day in Encino. Recording drum tracks. Having dinner with Kenny.
Chrissie: What kind of picture do you want? I’m limited on what I can send you right now.
I laugh. Oh, definitely a better answer than I hoped for.
Me: I still have the Polaroids we did in New York. Very useful the last few days. We need to find some time alone together soon, baby.
I wait. Maybe she’ll get rid of Linda and invite me over.
Chrissie: What kind of picture do you want?
Fuck, not the response I wanted.
Me: Send me that beautiful part of you that is mine.
I wait, wondering if she’ll get that. It’s a win either way. I’m definitely missing her.
Ding. Ding. Ding. Oh, lots of pictures. I thumb through them. Oh, Jesus Christ, she’s beautiful. Just looking at Khloe gets me all choked up.
Me: How long is Linda hanging around?
Chrissie: Maybe another hour.
Me: Can I stop by? Say good night to Khloe? Say good night to you both?
Chrissie: Alan, you can come here any time you want. You’re Khloe’s father. No call necessary. You don’t have to ask. See you at my place in an hour.
I stare at the phone.
She’s not angry with me.
And she just invited me to drop by at midnight.
I click off the phone.
“What’s the matter?”
I look up to find Kenny slipping back into the booth across the table from me.
“Why does it always feel like all women have a set of rules they live by and expect you to know, but the rules are never fucking logical.”
Kenny laughs uproariously, a little louder than that comment deserves.
“Because they all do,” Kenny says, leaning forward against the table. “And they are pretty simple rules. We just don’t follow them. They expect you to show. They expect you to really be there. They’ll never ask, but that’s what they want. And they’ll fucking go find someone who will if you don’t play by their rules.”
I stand up. “I’m out of here.”
Kenny’s eyes fix on me. “You want some advice? Really show up for Chrissie this time. You don’t want to blow it. And you certainly don’t want to fuck it up with your daughter. I’ve got three kids that won’t talk to me. You want to make this work with Chrissie? There’s only one way. Doing right by your daughter. That’s how you don’t fuck it up with Chrissie this go around.”
“That’s great fucking advice, Kenny,” I jeer, pulling the keys from my pocket.
“Yeah, that’s what I said to Len when he told it to me. But it’s the fucking truth.”
I pat him on the shoulder. “Catch you later.”
I start weaving my way through the crowd. I stop. I stare. Oh no, it’s can’t be.
What the hell is Kaley doing in a place like this, dressed like that? Tight pencil skirt up to her ass. Bare midriff. And definitely too much showing in front—Jesus Christ, look at the way she’s dancing. Fuck, it makes me uncomfortable just to see it.
I start pushing past the jostling bodies on the dance floor, ignoring the people staring at me in surprise and trying to get in my way.
I put a hand on her arm to stop the motion of her body. I glare at the guy who was grinding on her a minute ago. “Get lost. Now. Before I decide to help you leave.”
I don’t know what startles the guy more, what I said or that it was me who said it, but he cuts out quickly, no questions asked.
My gaze shifts back to Kaley. “I’m taking you home. Now.”
She jerks free of my hold. “Fuck off.”
The sharpness of her voice startles me.
I can feel heavy stares from every direction.
I ignore her outburst. “Does your mother know you’re here?”
She laughs. “Does my mother know you’re here? Better question.”
I stare at her. Is she drunk? “Do you have a car?”
She jerks her chin and looks away. “Zoe drove. I’ve had my keys taken away for two weeks. Thanks for telling my mom about me borrowing your car the other morning.”
My eyes widen. “Borrowing? Interesting choice of words. And I didn’t say a word to your mother. I said I wouldn’t and I didn’t.”
“Bullshit. I don’t believe anything you say.”
I rake a hand through my hair. Why is she being so combative? What did I ever do to her to deserve this?
I struggle to maintain my composure. “We are leaving. Now. I’m taking you home.”
I motion her toward the exit, and she shakes her head. “I’m not leaving without talking to Zoe.”
I scan the room. I don’t see the girl anywhere.
“You can text her from the car,” I say firmly.
My eyes stare into hers, unblinking.
She breaks off first and starts rushing through the crowd. “Why do you have to always ruin everything?” she hisses over her shoulder.
I go out of the club and give my ticket to the valet.
Kaley whirls on me. “You don’t have any right to tell me where I can go or what I can do,” she exclaims in a voice that could puncture the sound barrier.
“That’s enough, Kaley. You’re embarrassing us both.”
She rolls her eyes. “Fuck, you are such an asshole. Don’t you get it? You just embarrassed me in there.”
“The only one to create a scene tonight was you, Kaley. And there is no way in hell I was going to leave you in a place like that alone. Do you even have a clue what could happen to you, drunk, in a place like that?”
She makes a face at me. “Place like what? Someplace you’d go? Zoe and I like to hit clubs. Dance. Even Mom wouldn’t freak out about that. We don’t do anything. You’re being ridiculous.”
“Then I’ll ask your mother when I get you home, and if I’m wrong, I will apologize.”
She crosses her arms, staring stonily ahead. “Don’t bother. You’ve already ruined my night enough.”
Just like I thought. Chrissie would not have approved. I’m feeling better about this, even as horrid as it’s been.
My car rolls to a stop in front of me. I go to the valet to take my key and watch him run around to the other side to open Kaley’s door. I wait until she climbs in.
I sink down onto the driver’s seat. I put the car into gear and pull away from the curb.
“I’ve always cared about you, Kaley. Don’t expect me to stop now. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. It’s not what I intended. I was concerned.”
The answering look in her eyes is pure venom. She turns to stare out the window. “I’m surprised you’re still in LA. You haven’t been around for days. I thought you’d split California.”
I tense, surprised she’s noticed that I haven’t been at Chrissie’s. And more surprised that it bothers her.
“I’m here for good. Moving back to Malibu.”
Nothing. No reaction.
It’s an asinine comment but maybe it will make her laugh or thaw a little.
“We’ll probably be running into each other out in the clubs more often.”
She rolls her eyes. “What’s happening with you and my mother?”
Oh, so that’s what’s got her all anxious and worried and angry. The possibility that I’m doing a fuck and run? Or is it the possibility of me in her universe? Christ, she used to love me. How did everything get so fucked up with her?
I shrug. “I don’t know. I’ll let you know when your mother tells me.”
I hear a sound like a croak. OK, girl not softening. Not budging an inch. She is her mother’s daughter at times.
Forty minutes later, I pull into Chrissie’s driveway. I park the car, remove the keys, and turn to look at Kaley.
“Before we go, is there anything you want to ask? Anything you want to say to me?”
Stoic, she climbs quickly from the car, but then turns back and leans in enough to stare into my face. Her brown eyes are leveling even in the darkness.
“Yeah. I have some things to say. Don’t do to my sister what you did to me. Don’t come around Khloe if you don’t plan to be here. Stay the fuck out of her life if you’re only going to walk once you get bored. Don’t fuck her up, the way you fucked up me.”
The car door slams in my face. My stomach knots. Oh shit. That she’s got the history wrong—it was Chrissie who walked out on me—doesn’t make that any less harsh to hear. Fuck, no wonder the girl hates me. She’s got everything wrong.
I look through the windshield.
Kaley is already inside the house.
But, fuck, Chrissie is standing on the stoop, looking worried and confused. When I reach her, she steps into me, her face against my chest, and I place my arms around her.
“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” she asks anxiously. “Kaley just ripped off my head when I asked how she ended up with you. How did you end up with Kaley? I thought you were out having dinner with Kenny.”
I place a light kiss on the top of Chrissie’s head. “It’s no big deal. I ran into her after dinner. She needed a ride. I brought her home.”
Chrissie steps back. She stares up at me. “Why is she crying?”
My insides knot. Crying? When did that start?
I shrug. “She wasn’t happy that I insisted she come home.”
Chrissie studies my face and I keep my expression deliberately blank.
“Well, thank you for bringing her home from wherever it was she wasn’t supposed to be that you won’t tell me about, Alan.”
I wrap an arm around her.
We walk into the house.
“We ran into each other at Velvet Jones.”
“Velvet Jones? My Kaley? She doesn’t go clubbing. She’s not into that sort of thing.”
“I was just cutting out as she got there with Zoe Kennedy. It was a fast crowd tonight. I didn’t think you’d want me to leave her there.”
She molds closer into my chest. Her body is shaking with her worry and concern over Kaley.
“I’ll stay a while if you want me to,” I whisper. “Make sure everything is all right with Kaley before I cut out.”
Chrissie nods. “I don’t know what’s happening to her lately. Every day it’s a new battle. And it’s getting worse.”
I remember Kaley’s comments in the car. She’s got a lot bottled up inside her.
I change the subject. “Thank you for sending the pictures of Khloe. It made my night.”
Chrissie flushes. “I didn’t even realize that I hadn’t given you any until you asked.”
I place a kiss on her lips. “Highlight of my night.”
Her smile grows larger.
“Do you think it would wake Khloe if I make a quick stop in her room?” I ask.
“No. Soundest sleeper in the house. Go on. I was about to pour myself a glass of wine. Do you want one, too?”
“Wine would be nice.”
I lean in and give her another light kiss, and then cross the tile toward the hallway with Chrissie’s bedroom and the nursery. A door slams at the far end of the house from the kids’ wing.
Chrissie jumps and her cheeks redden. “I’ll be right back. Meet me in the kitchen when you’re done.”
I frown. “Is everything OK?”
Chrissie’s eyes widen. “Kaley can be dramatic at times.”
Oh fuck. Was Kaley in the hallway listening to us? It seems a bizarre, immature reaction for a girl nearly eighteen to eavesdrop on her mother, and definitely to get upset over me staying for a glass of wine.
I step down the hallway to the nursery and peek over the rail of the crib. She’s wide awake. Our sound sleeper must have been startled by the slammed door.
I pick Khloe up. I’m glad she’s awake. Seeing her brings home how much I want to be here with her. It also brings home Kaley’s parting jibe to me at the car.
I adjust Khloe in my arms. She’s not crying. Probably not hungry. I lift her above me and then lower her face to mine. I kiss her and hold her against my chest. Nothing. No tears. She doesn’t want anything but to go back to sleep.
I settle in the rocker, my lips against her hair. I didn’t think it would feel like this, being a father again, and I never expected to want it as much as I do.
I jerk when I hear a ding. Oh shit. I must have fallen asleep. I take my cell from my pocket.
Chrissie: I’ve been waiting on the patio for twenty minutes. Where are you?
I look at Khloe. Asleep.
Me: She woke up. Be right there.
I wait. Ding. Not a text. A picture. I struggle not to laugh aloud, not wanting to wake up the baby again. Definitely a nice shot even if Chrissie did keep covered the interesting parts of her breasts.
Me: Nope, she doesn’t need those. She’s asleep.
I stare at the photo, overwhelmed by how much I love Chrissie, my heart pounding and my pulse racing. A few lines of text. A picture that doesn’t really let me see anything and Chrissie consumes me in a way no other woman ever could.
Heart.
Body.
Soul.
I carefully rise from the chair, drop a kiss on Khloe’s brow and then set her back into the crib. I stare down at her for a moment.
This is what I want.
This is where I want to be.
I go through the house to the back doors. I step out onto the patio and halt. Chrissie’s eyes meet mine and I drink her in.
She’s sitting on one of the rattan and white-cushioned sofas, her legs curled beneath her. She’s changed from the clothes she was wearing earlier. She’s in a short, black silk nightgown and a kimono-style robe. Her golden hair falls over her gracefully muscled shoulders, framing her lovely face and covering her breasts.
“I can’t ask you to stay the night. I want to, but I can’t,” she murmurs.
“I didn’t think you were going to, but now I wish you would.”
She smiles and sinks her perfect teeth into her lower lip. She gnaws slowly a few times. She’s not going to ask me to bed, but she wants to. I can see it in the tension on her face, the way her irises darken.
“I get what you’re doing and why you’re doing it, Chrissie. There’s a lot going on in your house that doesn’t involve us.” I step toward her. “But would it be all right if we sit out here and talk and wait for the sunrise?”
“I’d like that,” she says, her eyes on mine and softening into lush blue.
I settle beside her, pulling her close until she’s tucked into me, surrounded by my arm.
“We should talk,” she whispers, running the rim of her wineglass against her lips.
Gently, I touch her face with the tips of my fingers and run them down her cheek. “Then we’ll talk until we can’t anymore.”
“There’s so much I need to say to you.”
I start kissing the spot beneath her ear and then work my way to her shoulder. She closes her eyes and angles into my touch. Leaning down, I run my nose along her collarbone and then to the swell of her breasts, inhaling her scent as my passion instantly ignites in my body.
I take the wineglass from her fingers and set it on the table. My fingers move into her hair. I nip at her ear, then touch the lobe with my tongue. “It’s OK that we sit through the night. Talk. Wait for the sunrise—” I kiss the spot where her pulse beats. She moans and holds on to me. “—and maybe touch a little.”
A small laugh. “If you do that again, Alan, I’m going to break my own rules and fuck you right here.”
“Not a bad idea,” I whisper. Grasping her hips, I lift her until she’s sitting on my lap, straddling me. “But I have a better idea.”
Her eyes stray to my mouth. I kiss her, consuming her kiss, reveling in the taste of her. Her breathing is harsh, like mine.
She pulls back, breathless. “What’s your better idea? This one isn’t enough for me.”
My hands flatten on her back, guiding her into my kiss. My lips move softly at first, claiming her, possessing her, and building…building…then I’m consumed by her as I try to pour everything I feel for her into this kiss.
“I love you,” I murmur, my voice hoarse, my blood raging, my thoughts careening. “We still have time, Chrissie, to have a wonderful life together. I don’t want to waste even a minute of it. Let me be here with you. However it works out. Let me love you, however you want it. Whatever you need from me, let me give it. However you want me, I’m yours. But let’s not waste any more time, baby. Marry me.”