We hold hands as we stroll through the different vendors. Aside from the norm, there’s pottery, flowers, homemade soap and clothes and that’s just to mention a few of the staples you can buy here. I’m not interested in any of it. I want to be home sleeping or lock myself away in my studio writing.
We’re due to cut another album for Moreno Entertainment but I’m having reservations. I feel like I’ve spent most of my life second-guessing everything and my gut is telling me I’m right about this one. This would be our second full-length album and aside from having one song in a major motion picture, we haven’t done shit. Our sales are lackluster and we still aren’t headlining our own tour.
Something has to change and I think it’s the label, but I don’t know how to approach the subject without coming off like a total diva. Harrison agrees with me though. We need something different and if it’s not the label, it’s our sound that has to change. Our first record was gritty, heavy. That’s not Harrison and me. We’re mellow. We prefer to sit on the couch and jam. The screaming shit isn’t for me. I knew the record felt wrong, but Mr. Moreno assured us that was what we needed.
Now I want to change and I’m not sure how to go about doing that. Right now I’m not a fan of talking business with Sam and she must know something’s up since I haven’t been in the studio for weeks, but she’s not asking nor demanding new material. I wouldn’t be able to give her anything. My mind is blank. I get a headache just thinking about writing lyrics down.
I carry Sam’s purchases in my free hand since she refuses to let go of my other one. She wants press pictures. She wants the paparazzi to know that she’s with me. It’s a status thing for her. She made sure the press had a field day with Valerie and my ‘break-up’. Sam didn’t even wait twenty-four hours before her and I made a public appearance and the cameraman caught us with her tongue down my throat. I’m convinced it’s all for show. I know she doesn’t like my publicist and this was her way of showing her who’s boss.
Sam hands me another bag full of God knows what. Her fingers linger on my arm, brushing back and forth. There’s a want in her eyes that’s indescribable. She loves me and that is my fear. I don’t want her to. I don’t want to hear those words from her or have her expect me to say them back, because I won’t. I can’t. I’m not capable of loving another human being. Shit, half the time I don’t even love myself. I move my arm so she can’t touch me. Her face falls and that’s not the reaction I want from her either. Truth is, I don’t even know what I want right now. I put my arm around her and pull her into me. She puts one arm around my back and the other is clutching the front of my t-shirt. I don’t want clingy either, but it’s better than seeing her face fall.
I don’t know what I’m going to do about her. I feel the talk coming and I’m not prepared to let her down. This is exactly why I didn’t want a relationship. This is why casual dating works so well. No attachments. If you’re friends with benefits, you hook up and scratch the itch. If you’re just friends, you do the occasional meet for dinner, drinks, take her out and show her a good time then retire to your separate apartments or spend the night on each other’s couches. This domestic shit kills me because she’s not who I thought I’d be doing this with.
I direct us back toward my apartment. I’d rather be alone with her behind the privacy of my own walls than out in public. There are too many prying eyes and loose lips around here. The gossip-mongers are relentless and the last thing I want to do is hurt Sam. Most know she’s my manager, but for those who don’t, I don’t want those assholes blurting out my indiscretions in front of her. She’d have to do damage control because she wants to be with me.
“Want to stop for coffee?”
“Not really, Sam.” I strong arm her back into the hotel and let go of her as soon as we’re a safe distance from the door. She slumps against the elevator wall, avoiding eye contact with me. “I just don’t want coffee right now.”
“I know. I was just trying to stay out longer. The sun felt good.”
I step closer and kiss her lightly on the lips. “We can go to the pool? Sit up on the roof?” I don’t know what spurs me to kiss her or ask her, but it feels good. She smiles and nods as the doors slide open. “Let’s go change.”
I watch Sam in my small kitchen. She’s cooking and to me that’s such a novel idea. I haven’t had a home cooked meal since I was living with my grandma. Maybe Sam remembers this, I don’t know. She was my rock when my grandma died. She took care of everything. I would’ve been lost without Sam in that moment. I don’t even know if I thanked her for everything that she did.
She’s wearing a white, see-through cover-up over her red bikini. A swimsuit that I happen to like and am thinking she needs to take the cover-up off. We spent two hours laying in the sun and lounging in the pool. I should spend more time up here, but never think about coming up here by myself. I feel energized and relaxed. I need to get back into running. It’s been so long since I ran. I miss the feel of the wind against my skin. Running on a treadmill won’t cut it. I need to run near my grandma’s old house on the trail system. Be one with nature.
Sam turns and smiles. “What are you staring at?”
“You. Is that okay?”
She rolls her eyes and turns back to whatever it is she’s doing. “Go sit down, Liam.”
I do as she says, relaxing into the couch. She appears in front of me with a plate of food and a glass of milk.
“Milk?” I deadpan.
“It’s good for you.”
“I haven’t had milk since I was eighteen.”
She shakes her head slightly while placing a napkin in her lap. “That was two years ago, surely you know how to drink milk.”
Ouch on the age comment. She doesn’t need to rub in the fact that she’s older than me. “Fine. I get why I’m drinking milk, but why are you?”
Her hands still in her lap and she clears her throat. She shifts slightly and faces me. Her smile is forced. I sit back and wait for her to deliver whatever it is that’s sure to ruin our day. She reaches for my hand and I let her hold it. I don’t have a clue what’s going on and how just a few minutes ago everything was fine but now there’s definitely something wrong.
“I’m pregnant.”
My heart stops.
I forget how to breathe.
Everything about this moment is wrong.
She’s supposed to be brunette, not blond.
She has brown eyes, not blue.
“Say something.”
I shake my head. I have nothing to say. I’ve only wanted to hear those words from one person and she’s not her. I don’t care how long I live for, I don’t want children with anyone but her and that’s never going to happen.
“Liam?”
“Don’t,” I say through clenched teeth. “Don’t say my fucking name.”
“Okay,” she replies nervously.
I stand, kicking the coffee table over. Food and milk crash to the floor, ceramic and glass breaking. Sam jumps, but right now I don’t care. “What the fuck?” I scream while holding my head.
“I thought you’d be happy,” she says weakly.
I drop my hands and glare at her. I see nothing but red when I look at her. “What gave you that fucking idea? I’m twenty years old and am barely making it in life. My band isn’t going anywhere and our last record fucking flopped. What part of that screams I’m ready to fucking settle down?”
“Nothing, but we can get a nanny and I have money. You have the money from your grandma. We can get a bigger place.”
I stand there, staring at her like she has three heads. “You’ve got to be kidding me! You’re what, a minute pregnant and you’re already talking about a fucking nanny? You want some stranger raising your kid?”
“Our child.”
“This is not fucking happening.”
“Well it is, Liam.” She stands and walks over to me. As soon as she touches me, I shy away. I can’t do this with her, not right now. I sidestep her an
d rush out of my apartment. As soon as I’m in the hallway, I’m out of the emergency exit and literally flying down the stairs.
I’m standing outside without a hat and sunglasses. Not that I’m expecting people to come up to me, but I like the security having those items provides. I hail a taxi and give the driver Harrison’s address. I lean back in the seat and close my eyes. I don’t know what I’m going to say to him, but this can’t go on. We’re better than this and something has to change.
I pay my fair and climb the steps to Harrison apartment. He wants to move, but we’re still not making any money. At this point we’re better off having a minimum wage job and playing out of a garage. At least what we make would be our own. Right now everyone is dipping their hands into our cookie jar and when all is said and done, we’re lucky if there’s a crumb we can share.
I rap my knuckles on his door. He answers straight away and lets me in. I’ve interrupted his time with his game console and wish I could sit down next to him and play like I used to with Mason. Maybe that’s what I need, a trip back to Beaumont. That would put my life in perspective. I can take Sam home and introduce her to my dad. She’s exactly the trophy wife mold that he wanted for me. I could go to junior college, play football and still attend the NFL combine.
My destiny is in my hands except I can’t grasp it. Every time I try, it slips through like sand.
“What’s up?” he asks as he turns off the television. “Want a beer?”
“Yeah or ten.”
He laughs and returns with two, one for him and one for me. I pop the top and guzzle as much as I can without choking. This is better than milk any day.
“What’s on your mind?”
I run my hand through my hair and down the rest of the bottle. “I need a hiatus or a break to figure shit out. We’re better than that record we put out.”
Harrison sighs. “I’ve been thinking the same thing. I’ve picked up some nights at Metro because I have bills to pay.”
“I can give you the money.”
He shakes his head. “It’s not that. I’m not feeling the sound. It’s different.”
“I agree. I want to ask Sam to shop us around. I don’t want to do another album with ME, their direction isn’t where I want to go.”
“Me either.”
At least we agree on something. He may not agree with the next thing I’m going to tell him, but I need to give myself some space to think logically and I can’t do that here.
“Listen, I’m going to take off for a bit and get my head straight. I don’t like myself much right now and I’m afraid that I could damage what we’re trying to do. I want to go someplace where I can get my shit in order, stop smoking and maybe not drink so much. I want to write and not worry about people taking my picture or who my girlfriend is.”
“Yeah, I hear you, that’s cool. Where are you thinking?”
“I don’t know. I figured I’d pack a bag, hit LAX and see what’s on the board. I’ll have my phone with me though, so you call if anything comes up or you need me, right?”
“Yeah, man. Have fun.”
I stand and feel like I need to hug it out with him, but don’t. I don’t want this to be goodbye, but something tells me that he’s not going to call and I may not come back.
And if I do, I won’t be the same Liam Page I am now.
Chapter 42
The ocean waves crash around my feet. My toes burrow deeper into the sand with each wave. I have to leave my paradise tomorrow and return to my life. For the past seven months I’ve been living in Australia, on the beach, and wearing mostly board shorts. Of course when I arrived, I landed my sorry ass here in the heart of summer. Now that their winter weather is moving in, I’m freezing my ass off.
Flying here wasn’t planned, but after leaving Harrison’s that day, I knew I was going to do something drastic. I just didn’t know what. After returning to my apartment to find Sam with a list of nanny’s and a baby catalog already out, I knew I had to get out of there. When she mentioned the word marriage I packed a bag, grabbed my passport and fled before she could ask me the question I knew I’d say no to.
Sam and I are okay now. We’re not great and we’re not going to be parents, ever. She miscarried at her two-month mark. I wasn’t there to hold her hand or comfort her, and I had to convince her that it was for the best. I wasn’t going to make a good dad. I didn’t want to marry her and she really didn’t want to be a mother if she was already thinking about nannies.
She asked me to come home and I told her I would, once my head was clear. I’m not sure if it is or not, but Harrison needs me. He called this morning, frantic, asking me to come back. For him, I will. For Harrison I’ll leave my little slice of paradise and return to the concrete jungle known as Los Angeles.
I’m not the same Liam I was when I left. I’ve spent hours learning how to surf, running on the beach and lifting weights. In the time I’ve been here, I’ve cut down on my drinking severely and stopped smoking. I feel good and there’s only a slight fog in my mind. I have a feeling that it’s always going to be like that. I’m empty and I know that’s from missing my grandma and her. It’s been over three years and I still can’t say her name.
I look down at my chest. My reminder of the pain I’ve caused her has been freshly retouched. The black ink is no longer faded. On my shoulder I now sport a barrage of art. There’s a skull, a flower and an eagle that took two days to do making my arm almost a full sleeve. I never thought I’d get another tattoo after the one I had put on my chest, but the pain helped me feel again and feeling was the key to get me to write. I have a pile of songs that I’m eager to put music to.
Harrison and I are ready to get back into the studio and I’ve told Sam that we need to revisit what 4225 West is about. We want a new record and she told us to lay down the tracks and she’ll send them out. I thought she was going to fire us as her clients after the stunt I pulled, but she didn’t. In fact, she forgave me, not that I was looking for her forgiveness. I know she loves me, but I’ve told her I’m not worthy of anyone feeling that kind of emotion for me.
Harrison and I also talked about adding a third member. It’s time, but we want to hold auditions. As much as we like Way, he’s a floater and doesn’t care where he plays as long as he does. We need someone who is going to be devoted to the band and willing to contribute with their own piece of artistic flair to get us to the top.
I take one last look at the ocean and bid it adieu. It’s time to go home and face the music, so to speak.
Despite the jet lag that is kicking my ass, I head straight to Harrison’s. I’m hoping, for the sake of my sanity, that Sam is not in my apartment. I never asked her to leave after she moved herself in, but I would like to think she knows we're over. I’ve been happy and drama free for months and the last thing I want is to start in with her about why I’ve been gone so long and why, when Harrison said jump, I asked how high. It’s hard to make a woman understand that you don’t want them without destroying their self-esteem. I’ve said this from day one, she’s a good-looking woman and I care about her, but I don’t love her and it’s best that we keep everything professional. Whether she’ll be able to do that or not will be the test. The last thing I want do is fire her, but I will if I have to.
I knock on Harrison’s door and a pang of regret surges through me. He still shouldn’t be living in this dump and had I stayed around or figured my shit out quicker, we could be on the road to success. We’re not and that’s my fault.
The door swings open and his mom greets me, enveloping me in one of the biggest and best hugs I’ve had in a long time. It’s funny that you don’t think about the people in your life when you’re gone, until you realize how much you’ve missed them. I’ve missed Mrs. James and everything she represents in my life. She’s the one person that I know who knew my grandma the way I did.
I pick her up off the ground and twirl her around.
“Put me down before you break your back.” She play
fully slaps me on my shoulder and I do as she says. I give her another hug before letting go. Maybe she is what I need – a mother figure to fix me. I wouldn’t dream of doing that to my own mother, but hugging her like that felt good. “I’ve missed you, young Liam.”
“Sorry I was gone for so long.”
She places her hands on my cheeks and her eyes start to water. “You look healthy. Your grandma would be so proud of you.”
I shake my head and my lips go into a thin line. I’d hate for my grandma to see me like this or like I was. “I don’t know about that. I lost myself for a bit. I’m hoping to change that real soon though.”
“I have faith,” she says, taking a deep breath. “Might as well go in and see what’s been happening in our family.” She nods toward the inside of the house.
I look around the door jamb for anything out of place or for something that might jump out of at me before looking back at her.
“Everything okay?”
“Everything is perfect.” Her smile is infectious and lights up her face. She pats me on the back, pushing me into the apartment. When I enter the living, I stop dead in my tracks. The thoughts that run through my head are enough to make my stomach turn because sitting on the floor is Harrison and between his spread out legs is a baby. Now, I’m not doctor, but the baby looks brand new.
“Is that… did she…”
“This is my son, at least I think he’s my son.”
I sort of stumble onto the couch, in a less than graceful manner, unable to take my eyes off the baby. I glance at Harrison. I look at the baby. Back and forth my head goes.
“What?”
Harrison plays with a lip ring; he does this when he’s deep in thought. It looks like both of us made some changes in our life. His is probably outweighing any of the drama I had going on.
“I don’t know much. A couple of days ago this girl shows up and she’s carrying this car seat. She sets it down in the middle of the floor and says it’s mine and walks out.”
“What the fuck?”
“Language, Liam.” I shrink back when I’m scolded.
Finding My Way Page 23