The Reckoning

by S. L. Scott

  Shrugging lightly, I say, “I don’t know. What I do know is that I don’t want to live this life without him, even if he needs time to figure himself out now and again. We all have burdens to bear.”

  “You give him the strength he needs, but if you ever need strength, please know you have me to lean on.”

  “Thank you.”

  Shifting in my seat, I sit across from Dalton at dinner, thinking. It’s been fairly quiet so maybe he’s thinking about things too. Finally, I look up and say, “Why did it take you so long to realize?”

  His gaze rises from the steak in front of him and I know he understands that I’m talking about if Sebastian was the father. It’s a topic we’ve steered clear of since his return. He sets his fork down and leans back in his chair. His fingers tap along the wet water glass, the condensation dripping down the sides. “I forgot who you were for a time, who we were. The tabloids altered who I knew you to be, messing with my perception.”

  It hurts to hear he was that far gone from me emotionally. Now I wonder where he was when he figured it out. “When did you realize this?”

  “I think I was in Australia.”

  “What happened in Australia?”

  “I was living another day without you in it.” Putting my elbow on the table, I lean my head on my hand and listen as he continues, “I was playing a show and it was going great, then I just looked out and didn’t see you. I couldn’t feel you like I usually can. I sound crazy, but you were always with me even when we were apart. A piece of my soul was absent.” He grins as if he’s embarrassed to say it, but I love that he did.

  “If you were missing me so much, why’d you stay away?”

  “I didn’t know how to face you, how to fix the mess I’d made. You hated me for what happened in New York. Then Seattle made things worse. Throw in there that I was fucking pissed that you were still spending time with him…have you ever been able to see the mess you’re making of your life, but can’t seem to stop the destruction?”

  I wish I could relate, but I can’t. “I’ve never had the luxury.”

  He nods, understanding most people never will. “I usually take time away to figure shit out—”

  “You don’t get to do that alone anymore. You’re married. You’re going to be a father to this baby. We are a family, a unit now. We stick together no matter what. Can you make that commitment to me?”

  “I already have.”

  “No. I need more than a piece of paper and a Justice of the Peace witnessing you committing to me. I need to know deep down that you’ll be here no matter what, Dalton.”

  There’s sincerity in his voice that can’t escape, a conviction that’s seen in his body. “I will. I’ll show you every day for the rest of my life.”

  “I’ll do the same for you.” For him, I will.

  “You already do.”

  Feeling like today is the day to get it all out, we lie in bed later that night and I ask what I’ve been reluctant to ask since he came back. “Why did you quit the band?”

  He doesn’t rush to answer, but when he does, he doesn’t hold back either. “I could say my heart wasn’t in it, but really it was my head. I was standing center stage playing a song and all I could focus on were the mistakes Kaz and Derrick were making. The fans wouldn’t be able to tell, but I could and I couldn’t enjoy what I was doing. And if I’m not enjoying it, why do it anymore?”

  I snuggle into his side, rubbing my hand over his abs. I almost feel guilty taking advantage of him like this when he’s sharing his feelings with me… almost. “When it becomes a job, bail?”

  “I did my job. I finished the tour. After that I needed a break, distance from the band, from Cory’s death, from life. I needed to figure out what really mattered to me the most and find my way back to it.”

  “Those men have been loyal to you, to this band. You know without you, the band doesn’t exist.”

  “I know. That’s why it was a hard decision, but it’s for the best.”

  “Whose best?” I whisper.

  “No one’s in the end.”

  “What do you want to do now?”

  Sitting up, he angles toward me. “I want to be a good husband and a great father.”

  His words and commitment make me happy. “Are you leaving music forever or for now?”

  “For now. One day I might record a solo album. I’m not sure.” He confesses, “If you can believe it, I miss those assholes.”

  “I know they miss you too.” Sitting up next to him with my back to the headboard, I wring my hands together and ask what I need to know to prepare myself for what he has planned. “If you went solo, would you tour to back the album?”

  He’s so relaxed, not holding back at all. “I don’t think so. I’d prefer to play clubs, bars, small venues. Surprise performances to crowds that aren’t there to see The Resistance.”

  I snort. “That’s next to impossible to pull off in LA. You can’t even walk down the street or get gas without being stalked.”

  “Very true.” He looks at me and I can tell by the line between his eyebrows that whatever he’s about to say is important. “I was on my way to Austin when I called you and your mom answered, telling me you were gone.”

  Shocked by his statement, I sit forward and angle toward him. Resting my arms on my belly, I ask, “You were going to Texas?”

  “I was going to write or play or both. I needed to get away.”

  “You were away already.” Touching his hand, I turn it over and say, “Too far and too long, so why did you need to go?”

  A small smile appears and he shifts to get comfortable before it falls away. “I’d had a rough day. A rough few weeks… pretty much every day without you was rough. And then you disappeared.”

  I shrug. “I didn’t drop off entirely… obviously, since you found me. How’d you know where I was?”

  It occurs to me at the same time he says it, “Rochelle.” Our fingers touch, heat exchanged. “She’s a good friend.”

  Looking down, I say, “She was there for me when you weren’t.”

  His face contorts, the reality a punch to his chest. “I’m sorry,” he says, the words coming as fast as my apology. “I’m sorry.”

  Dalton lifts my chin until I’m looking him in the eyes. “It’s true. Don’t apologize. I should have been the one here for you and I wasn’t, so the blame lies squarely on my shoulders. Not yours.”

  Mindlessly dragging my finger up and down his thigh, I say, “You’re here now.” Not wanting to dwell, I poke his leg twice and I touch back on something else he said. “You want to go back to Texas?”

  “No. I want us to go to Texas.” My mouth must be hanging open because he touches it and lifts.

  “Still?”

  “Still. I think it could be good for us to get out of here for awhile. Not forever.”

  “What about the baby? What about my company?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t thought it through, but it’s something I’d still like to do.

  “I didn’t expect this.” I lay my head on his chest and say, “Let me think about it.”

  “That’s all I’m asking. Whatever you decide will be what we do.” His hand strokes my back and he asks, “Are you tired?”

  My smile is instant. “A little. A little not.”

  “Wanna?”

  “Is this how pregnant women get sex?” Sitting up, I mimic his tone and say, “Wanna?”

  That makes him chuckle, but his tone turns concerned. “I don’t want to hurt you… or think about a baby being inside you when I am.”

  “Oh my God, did you actually just say that?” I burst out laughing.

  “Go ahead and laugh it up. But I can’t just bend you over, rip your panties, and fuck you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you’re pregnant. We have to be careful.”

  “Dalton,” I start, resting my hand on his leg. “Because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean I’m suddenly fragile or more breakable. Why
don’t we start slow and go from there, see where the night takes us.”

  “What about you on top?”

  “I can totally be on top.” His lips are covered by mine and slow goes out the window.

  “Sometimes friends become our greatest enemies and sometimes they turn into our greatest allies.” ~ Johnny Outlaw

  “How’s Katie working out? She’s due for her three month evaluation, correct?” I turn in my chair and ask Tracy.

  “Yes. We have it set up for tomorrow. How do you feel about her managerial skills?”

  “I think she’s doing a good job. She’s not you, but you’re rare like that.”

  “Ha ha.”

  “No joke. You are irreplaceable.”

  She stares, squinting her eyes at me. “What are you up to?”

  I laugh. “Nothing. Just want you to know how valuable you are to the company. We have three full-time employees and a lot of contractors and nobody cares as much as you and I do about this company.”

  “True. We have a vested interest. I have stock shares I hope to cash in one day.”

  “First we have to become a stock holding company. You know, it might not be bad staying a privately owned company.”

  “I’m gonna need a big pay raise in that case,” she jokes.

  I laugh again, but realize she’s not joking. “Don’t worry about that. You’re stuck with me and I’m willing to pay you what you deserve to keep you around.”

  “I do think we should bring on another employee. The interns are working out, but they rotate out too fast. I was thinking an entry-level clerk.”

  “Do what you think is best.” I broach the topic I’ve been nervous to bring up. I start off casual. “So what do you think about the time off with the baby?”

  “I think you need it. I’ve done a lot research and it shows that taking maternity leave actually improves work efforts when you return. Besides that, you should take the time to heal and take care of that baby.”

  “What about after?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that and doing a little research. Why don’t you bring the baby here during the day? We can set up a crib and other necessities in the bedroom and we have a full kitchen downstairs since it is a townhome. You can bring whatever you need here to make it easier. But I have to warn you, the owner can be a real bitch sometimes. If you give her a chance though, she has a heart of gold,” she playfully teases, followed by a laugh.

  “You’re ridiculous. By the way, I need a month off or at least to be out of pocket from meetings and such.”

  Her jaw drops. When she recovers from the shock, she exclaims, “Holli!”

  “I know,” I reply with my hands up. “Please don’t freak out. I’ll be working. I’ll just be working from Texas.”

  “Texas? What the hell’s in Texas?”

  “Dalton.”

  “Oh good lord, woman. Your life gives me whiplash.” Grabbing a notepad and pen, she huffs, “Lay it on me. Give me the deets.”

  “Dalton wants to get away from LA and we both want to stay together, especially after all that has happened.”

  “Why Texas?”

  “He wants to go to Austin. It’s a music city and, well, we’re not telling many people, but he’s gonna do some solo shows, get a feel for the stage again, start fresh.”

  “This sounds serious. You’re not moving on me, are you? Cuz I’m just gonna be perfectly honest here, I need you. You’re one of my best friends.”

  “Charmer,” I say, smiling ear-to-ear. “You’re one of mine too, but it’s not forever. It’s just for now. Our new motto.”

  “When?”

  Scared to tell her, I whisper because I figure that will ease the blow. “Five days.”

  Her jaw drops again, but this time, she doesn’t seem to recover as quickly… or at all. I watch her stand and walk right out of the office. Her footsteps are heavy as she descends the stairs where Katie works in the living room. Then the front door opens and closes again.

  I take off after her. As I run past Katie, I ask to verify, “She left?”

  “Yes.”

  Running out the front door, I call to Tracy. She’s walking quickly down the sidewalk toward the beach. I only have to jog to catch up with her, but when I do, she stops and glares at me. “You keep doing this and I’m left here to pick up the pieces.”

  “I work my ass off, Tracy.”

  “Yes, you do. You work more hours than I do and I work an insane amount of hours, but sometimes you need to be here.”

  “I can’t work without him.”

  “You have to. You started and grew this business before you even met him. I’m not trying to be mean, but if you’re taking time off then we need to hire more people—designers, artists, and the people who come up with those catchy slogans. Whatever they’re called.”

  “I do all of that and I rarely miss deadlines, so this is kind of bullshit.”

  “What’s bullshit is me feeling like I’m doing this alone. Once the baby comes, you’ll never be here.”

  Shocked by this side of Tracy, I ask, “We just talked about that. So what’s this really about? This isn’t like you. We talk. Communicate all the time about everything, so where is this coming from?”

  I see her glance down to my stomach and then turn around, putting her back to me. “Adam and I have been trying for months…”

  Guilt fills my veins in an instant and my heart hurts. Not sure what to say, I say what I feel, “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m stressed. I read online to relax and that means working less, not more. Everything is so much easier when you’re here.”

  I walk around and hug her. “We’ll hire more people to help. Please don’t worry about that. We’ve needed to for awhile now, but I need you to tell me when you need help. You don’t have to do everything by yourself.”

  When her arms release me, she says, “It was just the two of us for so long. It’s hard to let go.”

  Smiling in reassurance, I say, “We don’t have to let go, Trace. We just have to loosen the grip a bit. Limelight is growing. It’s time we grow the staff and our families.”

  “I just miss you and I miss the old days when we were like renegades in the business world.”

  “I miss you too. The old days were great. We were doing something that felt revolutionary. We are still those visionaries. We make a great team, Trace. I couldn’t do this without you. Anything. Tell me anything I can do to help you.”

  “You can go to Texas for one month and work satellite, but only one month and then no more time off until your maternity leave. Capeche?”

  Smiling, I nudge her as we walk to the beach. “Capeche.”

  “Sometimes the big picture is someone else’s painting.” ~ Holliday Hughes

  The days fade into one another. Most of the time, I sit with my guitar trying to flesh out a song that has been rattling around in my head for months. The melody is elusive though I get parts of it at the most inconvenient times—like when I’m having sex with Holliday or driving—times I can’t or don’t want to stop to record the notes.

  Other times, a melancholy hangs over our heads and I’m not sure if it’s this place or the city. I need to get out of here. I just hope she agrees to leave.

  Tommy shows up after five. “You’re a mess,” he says, walking past me like he lives here.

  “Thanks. Good to see you too.”

  Chuckling, he goes to a chair and spreads out as he gets comfortable. “Admit it, you missed me.”

  “I can admit it. Your abrasive personality and shit attitude has been severely lacking in my life. That’s why I called. Sometimes you’re actually not an asshole.”

  “It’s five o’clock. You saving your beers for a special occasion?”

  “Others times you are. You know where the kitchen is and get me one while you’re at it.”

  He gets up with a huff of protest. When he comes back out, he asks, “So why was I summoned to his majesty’s?”

  “Fuck man.
You just here to bust my balls?”

  I see him shaking his head, but he’s smiling. “Nah, I might have missed you a wee bit too.” I stand and we go outside and sit in some chairs close to the pool. Lowering his head, he says, “Sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “Being a jerk.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “I’ve got bad news. Ashley filed a lawsuit against you and the band. You’re gonna have to give a statement about what happened in London. The band is being included for sexual harassment.”

  The beer I’m swallowing catches in my throat and for a brief second I don’t know if I should force it down or spit it out. I gulp. “What the fuck? When did this happen?”

  “I got the call an hour before I came over. I thought you should hear it from me. The lawyers will be contacting you, but I wanted you to get it straight.”

  “But nothing happened in London.” He’s still looking down and picking at the label on the bottle. “There’s more, isn’t there?”

  “Yeah.”

  I set the bottle down next to me and stare at him, not liking the way he’s stalling. “Just tell me.”

  “She’s pregnant.”

  “’Kay, but what does that have to do with me?”

  “She says it’s yours.”

  What the fuck? I shake my head knowing I just heard that wrong. “What?”

  “She says the baby is yours.”

  “No,” I say, “That’s not right. It’s not mine.”

  “I’m just telling you what she’s claiming, Johnny.”

  Panic sets in. Holliday. Holliday. Holliday. I’m gonna lose her if… Fuck! “We didn’t have sex. It’s not mine.” Covering my face with my hands, I drop my head. “She can’t do this. Not now. I just got Holliday back.”

  “Hold up. You didn’t have sex with her?”

  “Fuck no, I didn’t,” I spew disgusted by the insinuation.