Love of a Rockstar

by Nicole Simone

  “I fucked up, I know that, but I want to change,” Luke said. “Be the father and man you needed me to be all those years ago. I understand you’ve moved on. With Finn, no less.”

  At the mention of Finn’s name, my eyes snapped open. What was I doing? With one gushy sentence, I became putty in Luke’s hands. I had to think with my head, not my hoo-ha. Words weren’t enough; he had to show me he was ready to be a father. Until then, Luke didn’t deserve to see Nil. Confusion flashed in his eyes when I took a step back.

  “No,” I said firmly.

  “No?” He echoed.

  I shook my head. “You can’t show up here and seduce me with words, Luke. It may have worked when I was seventeen but in the end you left the life we had built together”

  “I’m sorry, I…”

  I cut him off. “I don’t want words. I want action. You promised action. If you really want to be part of Nil’s and my life, then I want you to prove it.”

  “I’m only here for four days,” he said desperately. “How the hell can I prove anything in such a short period of time?”

  Turning my back on him, I gripped the doorknob. Tears blurred my vision. A big part of me knew he wouldn’t be in Seattle forever, but a tiny piece hoped he would be. At least, his answer showed me I was doing the right thing in letting him go.

  “I guess you can’t then.” I stepped inside my house. “Goodbye Luke.”

  I took one last look at the man who owned my body and soul for so many years. His face twisted into a mask of sheer devastation. I wanted to reach out and console him, to say everything would work out. It wouldn’t though, not until he put his family before his career.

  “I never thought our love story had an end,” he said faintly.

  Clicking the door shut, I slid down the wooden frame into a heap on the floor. Sobs racked my body as I echoed the same sentiments in my head. Our love story shouldn’t have had an end. Only a beginning.

  “YOU LOOK LIKE shit.”

  Groggily, I opened my eyes and saw Camille standing next to my bed holding two cups of coffee and a bag stained with grease.

  “So do you,” I lied as I burrowed deeper under the covers. “Now go away. I had a rough night.”

  “Do you have any idea what time it is?” she asked.

  “Five,” I guessed with a yawn.

  Camille made the sound of a buzzer. “Wrong. It’s seven.”

  Panicked, I bolted upright. My shift today had started fifteen minutes ago. My boss would kill me if I was a no show. My feet landed on the carpet in a mad shuffle to gather my clothes. Camille watched me with an amused expression on her face.

  “Don’t just stand there. Help me,” I said.

  “I called in sick for you.”

  With one leg through my pants, I froze and stared at her. “You did what?”

  “I called in sick for you. Grandma Doris came over to watch Nil and saw that you were still in bed. She tried to wake you, but you were dead to the world. Worried, she called me to come over and bring the one thing you can’t resist.” She shook the pastry bag in my face. “Croissants. Then I noticed the puffy eyes, which meant, you cried yourself to sleep. So I called in sick for you. I thought you needed some R and R.”

  Camille and I had remarkably similar voices on the phone. When we were teenagers, we used to confuse our parents by answering each other’s calls. At some point, our parents asked if it was their real daughter they were talking to. Camille and I thought this was hilarious. They, on the other hand, didn’t.

  “You’re a psychologist, not a detective,” I reminded her. “And thanks for giving me a mini heart attack. Why didn’t you tell me before I went Tasmanian devil on my room?”

  She shrugged. “It’s funny to watch you freak out”

  On the way back to my bed, I snatched the bag out of Camille’s hands. The smell of buttery goodness made my stomach growl. Nothing cures an emotional hang over better than carbs. I took a bite out of the croissant and practically moaned.

  Camille grinned. “That good, huh?

  “Better than good. Flipping fantastic.” I eyed the coffee in her hands. “Is one of those for me?”

  Pulling a chair next to the bed, she propped her feet on the duvet cover and handed the cup to me. I took a large gulp.

  “I don’t even get a thank you,” Camille said. “What kind of friend are you?”

  I gave her a smile dripping in honey. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  We sipped our drinks in comfortable silence. When I polished off the last bite of my breakfast, I leaned against the headboard, tired. Last night left me emotionally drained. I owed Camille more than a simple thanks for calling in sick for me. Facing Luke today at the hotel would have been a disaster.

  “Are Nil and Grandma Doris in the living room?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “Nope. She took Nil to breakfast, then off to pre-K.”

  “Right, today is Monday,” I mumbled, getting my days straight.

  Without my family and friends backing me up, my world would have collapsed into a disorganized mess. They were the best kind of calendar I had.

  “I know you can be kind of ditzy when it comes to your own life but not Nil’s.” Camille cast me a worried glance. “What’s up?

  With enough caffeine to fuel a small car coursing through my veins, I kicked off the covers and sat crossed legged on the bed. “Luke showed up unannounced last night,” I said.

  Camille choked on her coffee. “Are you serious? Did Nil see him?”

  “No, she was asleep.”

  If my daughter did meet her father last night, there would be a whole other host of problems to address, like when he would see her and for how long. Would he get Christmas or Thanksgiving? I was glad I didn’t have to deal with that right now.

  Camille leaned forward in her seat, eyes wide. “So, give me the deets.”

  I launched into the story of what happened between Luke and me. When I was finished, my best friend sat stunned into silence. The man we both once knew rarely expressed his emotions.

  “He really said he didn’t think your love story had an end?” Camille whispered.

  My heart squeezed in my chest. “Yup.”

  She let out a low whistle. “It’s like you’re living the modern day version of Casablanca.”

  The thought of Luke as Humphrey Bogart made me laugh. “Hardly.”

  “OK, maybe not, but the line belongs in a movie.”

  “Who knows? It might have been.”

  As her mouth scrunched to the side, I could see her brain scanning a list of romantic classics to see if what I said had any merit. She had a romantic movie collection the size of Texas in her living room. I honestly thought it did more harm than good on her social life. The guys she met didn’t hold a candle to the men in the movies.

  “Nope, that line has never been used. It’s an original,” Camille confirmed.

  “Awesome,” I said, sarcastically.

  Hating Luke felt easier when he resembled the closed off musician who left us. Now, he was back, spewing one liners that belonged in The Notebook. I had no idea what changed his personality, but I didn’t like it. Shoving me over, Camille sat down in the empty spot.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked.

  I shrugged hopelessly. “No clue.”

  Camille hugged her knees to her chest, lost in thought. The quietness of the room sapped my caffeine surge, and I sunk into the pillows.

  “He didn’t say no,” Camille said.

  Her voice tore me away from the edge of sleep. “To what?” I asked.

  “To proving he wanted to be a family again.”

  I waved off her realization with a flick of my wrist. “Doesn’t matter. He’ll only be in Seattle for four days. Nil and I deserve somebody dependable.”

  “Like Finn?”

  Finn might be as exciting as a bland piece of chicken, but he was what my daughter needed in her life. The poor girl already had a fli
ghty mother; she didn’t need a father with the same personality quirk.

  “Exactly like Finn,” I said.

  “You don’t love him though.”

  “So?” I snapped.

  This conversation was headed in a direction I wanted to avoid like the plague. Yanking the covers to my chin, I shut my eyes and hoped Camille would get the hint to leave.

  “Alright, I’m not stupid. I’ll leave.” The bed creaked as her feet hit the floor. “But I want to tell you something real quick, best friend to best friend. Are you listening?”

  “Yes,” I mumbled.

  “You know how I first told you to leave Luke behind in your past? Well it sounds as if he isn’t the same Luke you once knew. I know you said you want somebody dependable but what I think you’re really afraid of is love. Real love. The kind you won’t find with Finn.”

  With that said, she left the room.

  STANDING IN THE middle of a whitewashed room, I was flanked by Luke on one side and Finn on the other. Their rigid postures were met by scowls.

  “Love me,” Finn said.

  “Love me,” Luke repeated.

  Their voices crashed over each other’s until it became a maddening chant. “Love me, love me, love me.”

  I clamped my hands over my ears as it rose to a defining roar.

  “Stop,” I screamed in desperation.

  My voice drowned out and I fell to my knees. The floor began to spin, faster and faster. The walls blurred into one. I held my hand against my mouth to stop the bile from crawling up my throat. Just as I was about to lose it, a hot pain in my side jolted me out of the nightmare and back into my bed. I took a deep gulp of air to steady my rapid heartbeat.

  “It was only a nightmare,” I reassured myself out loud.

  The smell of strawberry shampoo wafted to my nose. I looked over to see Nil wrapped in my bed sheets, asleep. Her feet were pressed against my left side, which explained the hot pain I felt earlier. My daughter was notorious for kicking me in her sleep. I quietly slipped out of bed and padded into the living room. Grandma Doris sat in the rocker by the window, knitting.

  She didn’t take her eyes off her handiwork. “You’re awake.”

  “I didn’t know I fell back asleep.” I plopped down on the couch. “Thanks for watching Nil.”

  “Of course.”

  Pulling a cashmere throw over my lap, I attempted to shake off the chill my nightmare left in its wake. I had a feeling it would take a lot more than a warm blanket to make me feel better. Normally, my dreams were forgotten once morning hit, and if I did remember anything, the memory was benign. This nightmare, though, contained a ton of emotional baggage. First of all, it was a nightmare. The name alone implied distress. Second of all, the meaning behind it was painfully obvious. I had to figure out if dependable was enough, and if it was, would I be able to move on with my life without Luke in it?

  “Don’t frown. It will age you,” Grandma Doris said.

  “I can’t help it.”

  She set her knitting needle on the coffee table. “Things that stress you out now will seem trivial when you’re seventy. Trust me.”

  “Matters of the heart are never trivial,” I said, annoyed.

  Doris smiled. “You got me there.”

  Her husband, my grandfather, died eight years ago from natural causes. There was a fifteen-year age gap between them, but you wouldn’t have known. My grandfather had the vigor of a twenty year old. They were the kind of old couple who held hands and shuffled down the city streets, setting an example for what a marriage should be. The day he died, my grandmother’s eyes took on a dim light. She hasn’t been the same since.

  “Do you believe Grandpa was your soul mate?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “No, I don’t.”

  It took me a minute to register her answer, since it didn’t make sense. They were meant for each other. Surely, my grandmother misheard me.

  I tried again. “I said, do you think grandpa…”

  She cut me off with an irritated look. “I may be old, but my hearing is fine.”

  My eyes widened “But I don’t understand. You and grandpa were so in love.”

  “We were, but I don’t believe in soul mates. It implies there’s only one person out there for you.” Doris scoffed. “That idea’s ridiculous.”

  “Then what do you believe?”

  My grandmother hoisted herself out of the rocking chair, and sat down next to me. Her expression was of a woman who had years of knowledge on me.

  “I believe in finding a man who can be your best friend, because once the lust fades, friendship is what will hold the foundation of your marriage together.”

  I agreed with what she said, but there had to be some form of love in a relationship. The days of women rushing to the altar with some hapless fool were over.

  “So you liked grandpa as a friend and not a lover?” I asked.

  “No, that’s not what I am saying. What I am saying is that you can’t pin everything onto a soul mate. That word doesn’t exist. Strike it from your vocabulary.” My grandma saw I was struggling with this concept and laughed. “You young people all want to live in a romantic movie but life isn’t like that. It’s messy and at the end of the day you want your best friend at your side.”

  “But why can’t you be madly in love with your best friend?” I challenged

  My grandmother let out an exasperated sigh. Normally, I wasn’t so pushy but I felt as if my life depended on her answer. She rubbed her temples; a clear sign the conversation was done. “I am tired. Can we pick this up another time?” my grandmother asked.

  “Sure, but can I ask you one more question?” She gestured with her hand for me to continue. “Can you fall in love with a man over time?”

  “That’s what happened with your grandpa. The first time I met him, I thought he wasn’t exciting enough for me.”

  “What changed?” I questioned.

  My grandmother looked out the window lost in a memory. Heartache shined so brightly in her eyes, I wanted to take the question back. “Dependable became exactly what I needed.”

  I sensed there was a much deeper story, but I’d asked enough questions for today. My grandmother would tell me when she was ready. Besides, she’d provided the solace I was seeking. Finn was a kind man who would be a good father figure in Nil’s life. Maybe I wouldn’t ever love him like Luke, but I could love him in a different way. A safer way.

  LATER THAT NIGHT, I stood in front of my bedroom mirror decked out in a lacey black dress. My blonde hair was swept into a ponytail, and gold dangly earrings decorated my ears. Finn had called earlier wanting to see me as soon as possible. We agreed to meet at my favorite restaurant, The Look Out, for dinner. Glancing at my watch, I saw I had another three minutes before I left.

  “What do you think? Another swipe of mascara?” I asked Nil.

  Nil sat on the rug with the contents of my makeup bag surrounding her. Blush and lipstick were smeared across her face while eye shadow decorated the upper part of her lids. Whenever I put makeup on to go out, Nil copied me. It was a mother-daughter ritual that Nil never passed up. My mom hated when I dropped off my daughter looking like a deranged clown. She said it frightened her, which was partly why I did it. I peered into the mirror and decided another swipe of mascara was needed.

  “Hand me the black tube next to your legs,” I said to Nil.

  Her big blue eyes searched the ground for the item. When she spotted it, she let out a squeak that promptly melted my heart. Luke made the same noise when he located something. Sometimes, I wanted him to meet her just so he could see how similar they were. Her chubby fingers grasped the mascara tube and gave it to me.

  “Thanks sweet girl.”

  Before I knew it, it was time to leave. I strapped my makeup-smeared daughter in the backseat and dropped her off at my mother’s house. As predicted, the first thing my mom did when she saw Nil was rush her to the bathroom to wipe the “gunk” off Nil’s face. I could hea
r the screams of protest from my daughter through the closed front door. Five minutes late to dinner with Finn, I screeched to a stop outside the valet stand and jumped out of my car.

  The Look Out was a glass and steel structure with a 180 degree view of the Puget Sound. When I was in school, the pastry chef from the restaurant was one of my instructors. She was known for her apple crumble. A melody of spices elevated the dessert from simple to extraordinary. My stomach grumbled in anticipation. I gave my last name to the hostess, and watched as her finger travel down the long list of reservations.

  “Yes, here you are. I believe your party is already waiting for you,” she said.

  With his impeccable good looks, it was easy to spot Finn in the sea of diners. As I approached the table, he got up from his seat and held out my chair for me.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  Setting the white linen napkin on my lap, I nervously took a sip of water. The urgency of us meeting tonight told me something was on the horizon, and I hated surprises.

  Finn flagged down on our waiter, “Can we get a bottle of your finest cabernet?”

  “Of course, sir.”

  Just yesterday, Finn informed me his law firm might not last another year. Spending five hundred dollars on a bottle of wine was probably not the wisest way to spend his money right now.

  “We can order two glasses instead of a whole bottle,” I suggested gently.

  “Tonight is a good night. We deserve to treat ourselves.” Finn laughed at my confused expression. Grabbing my hand, he stroked my palm with his thumb. “I have loved you since you spilled grape juice on my pants in fifth grade, you know that?” His eyes held steady on mine.

  I yanked my hand away as if it had caught on fire. This was the first time Finn was mentioning the word “love.” Grasping desperately at my water glass, I took a huge gulp to calm my rising nerves. Did he honestly except me to say it back? Three months wasn’t long enough to know if you loved somebody. True, I had known within the first five minutes of meeting Luke, but that was when I was young and dumb. Did I feel affection toward Finn? Definitely, he was a great guy. I wondered if he would notice if I didn’t say “I love you” back.