No Tomorrow

Josh shoots up off the couch and takes the CD, my bag, and my keys out of my hands.

“What’s going on?” His hazel eyes search mine. “Were you in an accident?”

“No,” I sob. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine, Piper. You’re having some kind of freak-out.” He glances down at the CD and then looks back at me with skepticism. “Since when do you listen to grunge alternative rock?”

I kick off my shoes and fall into the big comfy recliner by the window. “I don’t,” I reply. “That’s his band. That’s him on the cover, the one with the longest hair.”

“Him who?”

“Lyric’s father,” I say softly.

His eyes widen and he brings the CD closer to his face to examine the front and back. “The homeless guy?”

One night about a year ago when I was feeling particularly overwhelmed and frustrated with my feelings for Blue, I broke down and told Josh the entire story. He immediately turned it into a drinking game and we took a shot every time I said ‘homeless’ and ‘but I really love him.’ We were both trashed by the end of the night.

“Yes, apparently he’s the lead singer.”

“Holy fuck.” He turns the CD over again. “You’re telling me Evan Von Bleu, singer and crazy fucking mad talented guitar god, is your baby daddy?”

I roll my eyes and rub my hand across my pounding forehead. “Please don’t say it like that.”

A grin spreads across his face. “I’ve heard their music, they play it at the gym. He’s got a voice like fucking smoky velvet. He’s hot too. I’d be tempted, homeless or not.”

“Josh, please!” I rip the CD out of his hands. “You’re not helping.”

“I’m trying to make you laugh. This is pretty messed up. It’s kind of kickass, too. Lyric’s dad isn’t homeless, he’s famous.”

That tweaks up my anxiety even more, because I hadn’t even thought of that part yet. My daughter’s father has the potential of being a celebrity, and if he’s in her life someday, that’s going to affect her.

“He’s not really well known, is he?” I ask. Up until today I hadn’t ever heard of his band, and I listen to the radio at work a lot. They could be a one-hit wonder sort of band and just fall off the face of the earth in a year.

“Piper, you’re holding a CD with his face on it. They’re getting tons of airplay. You can’t go near a music magazine without reading about his insane vocals and his crazy riffs.”

Damn. How did I not know all this? How did Blue get to this place in life without me realizing it long before today? And why, why, why hasn’t he come back for me?

“Josh, do you think it’s possible that it was all a lie? Do you think maybe he wasn’t really homeless, and maybe he never really loved me? What if it was just some….” My voice cracks and I struggle to find the right words. “Some kind of experiment to get song material? Maybe I was only a muse to him.”

His face softens. “Piper, come on. I seriously doubt it. That’s an awful lot of work just for creative research. The dude slept in a shed. And you’re a sweet girl. I don’t think someone could do something like that to you unless they were a supreme asshole with zero conscience.”

“But he left the dog...why would he leave Acorn with me?”

He shrugs. “Who knows? Probably because he knew he was too messed up to take care of him anymore. Or he assumed having him would comfort you. Do I think the dog was part of some big act? No. Stop thinking like this, Piper. This isn’t like you.”

How many times have I heard those words in the past few years? If this isn’t like me, what was I like? What am I like?

“I don’t know what to think.”

“Maybe there’s nothing to think. You met a messed-up guy living a messed-up life, you did some messed-up things, he left in a messed-up way, you had a kid, and somehow he ended up where he is now and you’re living in this messed-up situation with me and everyone seems pretty happy.”

God. It sounds all sorts of crazy when it’s spelled out. “It’s all messed up,” I say.

“Is it? Or is everything the way it’s supposed to be right now?”

“I don’t know, Josh. I need some closure, I think. You don’t understand, he just left. I didn’t get to say goodbye, I didn’t get to ask why. One minute we were having the best night of our lives and the next he was gone. Then he leaves me a note years later that makes me even more confused. And now this! I find out he’s a damn rock star? I need to talk to him. I need answers. And he needs to know he has a daughter.”

“Are you sure that’s what you want? What if he wants to meet her? Do you want to bring this guy into Lyric’s life? Think of how confused she’ll be.”

His reservations are valid. Josh has been very protective of Lyric since we moved in and he took on the role Uncle Josh, and I love that he cares for her so much. He’s been an amazing male figure in her life—especially since my father still barely speaks to me—but I can’t keep Lyric a secret from her biological father if there’s a way I can get in touch with him. He has a right to know he has a child, and if he wants to be part of her life, that’s a bridge I’ll have to think about crossing.

“Blue might be a little strange and difficult, but he’s always been nice, and caring, in his own ways. I know he wouldn’t do anything to hurt Lyric. I think he would love her.”

“Really? Like he loved you and his dog?”

I glare at him. “Don’t be a jerk. I think he was just really confused at the time.”

“Nobody understands being confused more than I do, but he handled it like a first-class douche. I don’t want you or Lyric getting hurt. I don’t care who the hell he is.”

“It doesn’t matter to me who or what he is now. I still love him. And I believe he loves me,” I say softly. “I saw the concert schedule on their website. They’re going to be playing in Boston in two months, and I think I have to find a way to see him while he’s there so we can talk.”

He shakes his head. “Being in love with this guy has had your head fucked up for years. I don’t think talking is going to do a damn thing or get you what you want. If I were you, I’d hire a lawyer, get a paternity test done for proof, and sue for child support. He’s obviously got some money now.”

Even after all this time, I know Blue would never question paternity. He would believe me with zero doubt. And besides, Lyric looks way too much like him for anyone to ever deny that she’s his.

“Josh, really? Money is the last thing I want from him. You know I’m not like that.”

He rubs the back of his neck in frustration. “All right,” he sighs. “This goes against my better judgment, but one of the photographers I’ve worked with does a ton of band photography. Let me get in touch with him and see if he’s got any connections to get you in front of this guy.”

I perk up with renewed hope. “You’d do that for me?”

“I can’t make any promises, but I’ll try.”

I jump up and throw my arms around him. “Thank you. You’re the best.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” He pulls away and rests his hands on my shoulders. “Your makeup is a mess. Why don’t you go take a bath and I’ll pick up Lyric. I have to run some errands anyway.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s no problem. I think you should regroup before Lyric gets home. You know she can tell when you’re upset about something.”

He’s right—Lyric is very empathetic for a child. She dials right into the emotions of people and animals around her and wants to make everyone feel better. It’s one of the many things I love so much about her.

The bath was supposed to relax me, but I sabotaged that by bringing the CD with me. I slid out the cover, which unfolded to show tiny printed lyrics and credits. On the last section of the foldout each of the band members included a short acknowledgement or dedication, and I read Blue’s last:

For Piper, keeper of my heart, you’ll always be my ladybug. Don’t give up baby, I took a walk, but I didn’t run away.

Chapter Twenty-One

The past two months have been a mix of both warp speed and dragging time. I haven’t been sleeping or eating well, and my focus at work has once again been lacking. My brain is either too tired to function or my train of thought is constantly derailed with thoughts of Blue. I’ve been listening to his music practically non-stop, analyzing the lyrics, trying to decipher what they mean and wondering if they’re a key to his feelings or just random words thrown together for the sake of a good song. I’m exhausted, and I’m disappointed in myself for getting so distracted with him again. I should be above this by now, shouldn’t I? I’m older and more mature. I’m stable. I’m professional—most of the time. I’m a mother.

But damn, when it comes to Blue, I always short-circuit. As unsettling as that is, it’s also undeniably exciting.

“Why can’t I go with you, Mommy?” Lyric asks. She’s perched on the bathroom vanity watching me put mascara on. She’s obsessed with makeup lately and loves to put on lip gloss and eye shadow. I have to watch her or she’ll make herself up when I’m not looking.