by Shari Ryan
“Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking about it all.”
She releases another exaggerated sigh. “I don’t know. I’ll let things play out a little longer, I guess.”
“Yeah,” I agree.
“You’re going to be late if you don’t leave,” she reminds me.
“Right. Thank you for watching Aly tonight.”
“Anything for my number one cheeseball,” Lexi coos and sweeps Aly off her feet, swinging her around in dizzying circles.
I take off while Lexi is entertaining Aly, so I don’t have to hear her crying when I walk out the door.
The ride is short to the steakhouse downtown, and there’s parking right in front of the entrance. It’s a Wednesday night, and most people don’t hit the restaurants until tomorrow night or the weekend when the tourists come in for a view of the beach.
Layne is standing near the door in his typical getup, black torn jeans, a tee, and his leather coat. His hair is messy today, but it looks messy in a purposeful way. I like it.
His smile is large when he sees me step out of the car and he rushes toward me, scooping me up, and swings me around in a circle. “My girl,” he announces. Layne isn’t shy when it comes to affection. It doesn’t matter where we are or who’s watching. He loves me and wants to make sure I haven’t forgotten. How could I? His lips press against mine, and his honeyed voice is purring into my mouth. “Man, I missed you.”
“You’re telling me. I’ve been going nuts these last two weeks.”
“Same,” he says. “Come on, baby, let’s get food and talk.”
Talk. What is there to talk about? He can’t kiss me like that then break up with me. There has to be a rule about it or something.
Layne pulls open the door and sweeps his arm forward, allowing me to walk inside first. “I like those pants,” he whispers in my ear.
“I might have had you in mind when I bought them last week.”
His gesture is subtle and hidden, but I feel a quick pinch on my butt as he walks in behind me. “Thank you for thinking of me.”
His arms crawl around my waist, and his chin falls to my shoulder as we stand before the host’s podium. “Two, please,” Layne says.
“Oh my gosh. Are you Layne Hensen from Dividing Oblivion?”
“Yeah, I am,” he says, unaffected by the fandom.
“Oh wow. I’m in your fan club, the Divi-O’s! Divi-O’s, Divi-O’s,” she awkwardly chants. “Oh my gosh, could I have your autograph?”
“Sure thing,” he says. The girl is spinning in circles looking for something Layne can sign, and I’m growing a bit uncomfortable, feeling like the sideshow here. This is how life his going to be though. He’s a known singer now.
Layne grabs a drink coaster from the side of the bar and pulls a pen from the back pocket of his pants. “What’s your name?”
“Candace,” she says with a stutter.
“Okay, Can-dace. Here you go.” Layne hands her the coaster with a smirk and drops his pen back into his pocket. His arm re-loops around me, and he places a kiss on my cheek, which I love. I don’t feel like a sideshow anymore. I feel like Layne Hensen’s girl.
Candace stumbles around for menus and trips twice on the way to our table before placing down the menus. “Let me know if I can get you anything while you’re here,” she says.
“Thanks,” he responds.
“Is that how all the women are treating you these days?” I ask him. My question holds a fair amount of jealousy, but he isn’t shy about who he’s with, so I should relax.
“It comes with the territory, I guess. I’m not interested in any of them, Dani. They aren’t my type. You are.”
“So you aren’t breaking things off with me tonight?” I ask, staring down at my blush-pink, chipped nail polish. I meant to fix my nails today.
“Are you crazy, girl? No. You’re mine. I mean, if you’re still okay with being mine. I only want you to be mine if you want me to be yours, and you know, that stuff.”
“Obviously, you goof. It’s definitely been a long couple of weeks though, huh?”
“God, it’s been exhausting. Back-to-back shows, ten out of the twelve days we were gone. The guys are like zombies, and we have to be at the studio tomorrow morning at eight.”
“Wow. That’s a lot.” I thought he would have a break for a bit now that he is back home, but I suppose I shouldn’t have assumed anything. “I’m dying to hear what you want to tell me.”
Layne reaches for my hands, and it scares me a bit. We’ve already crossed a break up off our list, but I can’t make out what the look of unease is either. “If I asked you to go on the tour with me, would you come? Aly, too obviously. Things are really picking up, and our manager thinks we’re going to explode one of these days, which we’re seeing hints of lately.”
I was not expecting this question. When I imagine Layne’s music career, I always see myself sitting on the sidelines or watching from a distance. I didn’t consider the idea of being a groupie. I’d have to give up everything at home and displace Aly, but then again, I could travel the country with Layne, and that’s a hard opportunity to pass up.
“You’re not allowed to give me an answer tonight. I can’t let you do that. You need to think about this, stir over it, and be absolutely sure about your answer. Okay?”
He’s so mature and understanding. I have a child, and I don’t feel like my maturity level is up to par with his. “I’ll think about it,” I tell him, smiling with an excitement I shouldn’t feel yet before considering all options. The idea of it all sounds like a dream.
“When would it start? The tour. How long will it last?”
“It’ll start in two months, June 8th, and we’ll be traveling until October 12th.”
“That’s crazy, I tell him. God, I am so proud of you. Your mom ... she’d be going nuts right now.”
“She would,” Layne agrees.
I lift the menu to put a pause on our conversation because I don’t want to bring him down, but I felt like he needed to hear that too. This is a lot to digest. “I’m getting a burger tonight. I have a craving,” I tell him.
He tilts his head to the side and gives me a questioning look. “What’s your big news?”
I completely forgot about what I had to tell him. “Right. I almost forgot. Your news is way more exciting than mine is, but I got into the part-time program at Massachusetts College of Arts. I’m going to be taking night classes starting next fall, and I’m pretty excited.” I don’t sound very excited saying this out loud. The thought of possibly being Layne’s groupie is fading into the distance. I wouldn’t be able to tag along the whole time, and I don’t know if I’d be able to get home easily from wherever we are at the end of the summer. This is a lot to consider.
“Holy crap, Dani! That’s freaking amazing! I’m so damn proud of you. You are an incredible artist. People are going to be lining up to commission you for pieces. Damn, this is a pretty exciting night, huh?” Now, neither of us sound excited. We’re just speaking words, realizing we are at this point in our lives when we have to make decisions for our futures and can’t make those decisions based on anyone else’s path.
The waitress brings over a couple of waters and a basket of bread. “Can I grab you two something else to drink while you look over the menus?” Our menus are both wide open, so it looks like we haven’t chosen what we’re eating yet.
“Water is fine with me,” I tell her.
“Same,” he says. “We just need another minute with the menus, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course, sir, take your time.”
Sir. We’re kids. Kids who are having to grow up a lot faster than either of us thought would happen.
Layne takes his straw and peels the wrapper off, drops it in his water, and chugs as fast as the straw allows. When he removes the straw from between his lips, he places his glass down and drops his head into his hand. His hair falls over the front of his hand, but he combs it back and leans into his seat. “Someth
ing doesn’t feel right.”
The only thing that doesn’t feel right is my heart. “We have to do what’s best for ourselves, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be together while we do.” I feel like this is something every teenage couple eventually says to each other.
“Yeah, definitely.” At least we’re not sharing Lexi’s mindset, because I assume she’ll break things off with Johnny as soon as she finds out what his future holds. “Layne, I’m honestly excited for you. This is an incredible opportunity. Look how far you’ve made it? It’s crazy. It’s like some wild dream.”
“So is college, and I’m so proud of you. I’m a little jealous too. I wanted to live up my four years at Berkeley, but people go to college for years to get this kind of opportunity, and I feel silly thinking about choosing school over a country-wide tour. Which would you choose?”
“Obviously, I’d go on the tour. Whether that’s the right decision or not, I don’t know, but it sure as hell sounds like it. Yeah, you can’t turn down a tour, Layne. That would be crazy.” The little voice in my head wants to tell him he should go to school first and be selfish, keeping him at home, but I’m not that kind of person. I know what having dreams ripped away feels like and I could never wish that on another person. He deserves the world and to see how far he can take his career. There is always time for school later in life.
However, I can guess we’re going to lose each other in the mix of him becoming famous. I can feel it in my bones. I’m sure he’s in the process of digesting all the facts too, but I don’t want to be a deciding factor. I shouldn’t be. We’ve only been together for seven months, and he needs to do what’s best for him.
I’m just a realist at the same time. It’s hard not to be honest with myself. I don’t want to get hurt. I’m sure we’ll both try to hold on as long as possible, and maybe we’ll make it a few hurdles, but at the end, the odds are greater that we’ll possibly lose sight of what’s truly important when our personal feelings get in the way. It seems like this type of decision is a rite of passage into adulthood. Then there’s Aly. How can I pull her into this world? She has already been given an unfair set of cards. I have to do what’s best for her, which entails me getting an education with hopes of a career following the two-year program.
“Let’s not give up hope, okay?” Layne asks.
“Never,” I agree.
He leans across the table and places his hand over my ear, giving me a quick peck. “I love you, Dani. Nothing can change that.”
Except for some girl who looks better than a hometown teenager with a baby.
“I love you,” I tell him, my voice is soft, but I mean it. “So, what now?”
“You decide if you want to join me on my tour until the fall. Then, you’re going to college and getting what you deserve in life.”
“And you?”
“We’ll have to wait and see what comes next, I guess.” I was afraid he’d say that, but there’s no way to know what will happen after the tour. He could have to go international or get started on his next album. I don’t know how the music industry works, but I know it has a cutthroat reputation, and there are many sleepless hours.
“So, I’m getting the burger and steak fries,” I tell him.
“With cheese?” he asks.
“No cheese.”
“You’re gross,” he tells me. “I don’t know why I would want to spend time with someone who doesn’t want cheese on their burger.”
I throw my straw at him. “You’re a loser; that’s why.”
“Not as big of a loser as you are. So, there’s that.”
“Yeah, well …” I’ve got nothing.
“How’s Aly-girl?” he asks. “I’m coming home with you after to get my fill of Aly hugs. I’ve missed her and got her a bunch of stuffed animals. Don’t worry though; the eyes are all made of threads so no buttons will come loose.” I laugh because I never told him I had a concern with buttons, even though I haven’t given her anything with buttons, knowing they can easily be swallowed. It’s sweet that he remembers that from when Lizzy’s son was a baby.
“She’s going to go nuts when she sees you, especially after getting a couple of vaccines at the pediatrician’s office today.”
“Oh my poor baby,” he says. Whenever he talks about her like this, it makes me feel all gooey inside. He isn’t just saying sweet things about Aly to win my attention. The way he is with her is natural and honest. He loves spending time with her as much as she enjoys being with him. The amount of times I’ve heard “Lion’s” name in the past two weeks has been almost more than he’s crossed my mind, which has been a lot. The girl knows what she loves I guess.
“So what songs are you recording tomorrow?” I love every song Layne has written, but he hasn’t shared his latest song with me yet because he wants to record them first.
“The one you can’t hear yet,” he says, winking at me.
“You’re killing me, you know. What if it’s horrible and no one will tell you the truth but me?”
“I guess … I’m just going to have to take that risk, Dani.” He grins and shakes his head. “You are something else. You know that?”
Twenty-Six
Current Day
We’re back at marriage counseling, but there is an end in sight. My knees bounce as I wait on the chair, and Layne reaches over to place his hand down gently on my knee. “You okay?”
“I want the clear,” I tell him.
“I know, but even if we don’t get the all clear today, just know that you’ve made so much progress in just the last six months. Your symptoms are almost unnoticeable now. Don’t you think that’s incredible?”
I twist my neck to look at Layne. “Of course I do, but I don’t understand why we still need to see a marriage counselor.”
“Because I love you enough to make sure we don’t fall off track while we navigate this situation. That’s why we’re here. That’s why we’ve been diligent about coming, and that’s why we’ll keep going for however long it takes someone to tell me that we have no reason to worry.”
“I don’t need someone to tell me that,” I explain to Layne. “You’re my world, and you’ve been my rock for more than half my life. I could never see you in any other way.”
“I feel the same, baby. I just like the reassurance.”
I’m doing this for Layne. I’m going to three therapists; a psychiatrist, a psychologist, and a social worker, but I’m getting better and stronger every day, and I’m getting my life back.
Since my visit to the psychiatry ward at Mass General six months ago, we have made a lot of changes. Layne was going a little crazy and wanted to uproot our lives because there is a rapist who isn’t living behind bars anymore. Though, that felt like I would give in to my fears, which is something we both promised not to do.
We had alarms installed in our house and placed a restraining order on Bale Herman, making it so he’s not allowed within fifty yards of us or the schools. I know it’s not a definite solution, but it lets me sleep at night. I have protection and some new self-defense skills from the classes Aly and I have been taking together at the Y every week.
Even my business has grown, which makes me happy. A small gallery on the waterfront commissioned me to sell a few paintings each month, which hang on display, and are for sale in the front window of the store. It’s a dream come true.
Layne is back to his normal teaching schedule, but when he comes home, he has been going into our basement we recently gutted, and has been building up his new studio area.
Life is ironing out, and for the first time in a long time, things feel okay, if not better than okay. Things feel normal, which is all I ever wanted.
“Mr. and Mrs. Hensen, come on back,” Jean says from the open door across from us.
We follow Jean into her office and claim our normal seats. I make myself comfortable by crossing one leg over the other, and Layne finds his relaxing position by bowing his knees out and leaning back into the chair. I
place my purse down onto the floor and notice the shoes Layne is wearing. His old Adidas stripes with the notes written in the white space—his good luck shoes. By the sound of what he was saying in the waiting area, he has had plans to continue coming here for years, but he knows how badly I want to “graduate” from Jean so I can stop feeling like we’re a broken couple. We’ve never had issues, we’ve just been going through a lot as people, and people who are going through a lot together sometimes need a mediator to keep things sailing smoothly. I get it, but I’m ready to move on now.
“So, how are we doing? It’s been two weeks now. Are things still progressing as we hoped.”
Layne lifts his arms and rests them on the armrests of his chair. He’s wearing a gray knitted beanie hat today, looking more relaxed than usual. “We’ve been amazing,” he says, smiling softly at me. “I’ve got my girl back.”
A proud gleam stretches across Jean’s face. “It’s absolutely heartwarming to hear this after all you two have been through these past couple of years.” She places her pen down on her notepad and crosses her hands together on her lap. “How about you, Dani? How are you feeling?”
“Honestly, I feel like I’ve been given another chance lately. Things are turning out great, and I couldn’t be happier.” With the exception of coming to a marriage counselor. I don’t want to say that and offend her, but I still have that feeling in the pit of my stomach that marriage counselors are a place where couples come to end their relationship.
“Fantastic,” she says. “How is Miss Aly doing?”
I turn to look at Layne, waiting to see his expression. “Her attitude has done a one-eighty. I feel like we have our little girl back too.”
Our little girl. I listen to the terms of endearment Layne uses to talk about Aly and me, but it’s normal life most of the time. However, sometimes, the words he says break away from everything else and float above my head like a fluffy cloud. He stepped in and picked up so many pieces to our lives when I never even asked him too. He loves Aly as much as I do, and I would never question otherwise. I’m lucky. We’re lucky. Everything happened when it needed to, and our bond formed so strongly at the beginning that I’ve never considered anything coming between us. This past year has really tried our strength, but we pushed through just like we always have. No matter what we’ve gone through as a couple, nothing could ever top the love he has given our daughter.