Falling Angel

by Carmen Richter

  “Don’t remind you what?” Arielle asked as she walked back into the room from the bathroom.

  “How fast you’re growing up,” Daphne said, pulling her into a hug and kissing the top of her head.

  I smiled and choked down a lump in my throat. I still hadn’t gotten used to Arielle having a mother figure. It was crazy how much my life had changed in less than a year. A year ago, I’d been a single father stuck in a job where I was away from my daughter more than I was home. Now, I had an incredibly kind, selfless, and beautiful girlfriend. Arielle had a mother. And I was able to stop taking jobs on the road and be the dad my daughter needed.

  And, to top it all off, in just four short months, I’d have another daughter. We’d found out the baby was a girl the day after we got to Ashview, and we’d named her already: Melody Taylor Ramsay. Melody for obvious reasons, and Taylor after her godfather. Because Daphne wouldn’t even consider letting anyone other than Taylor and Alex be her godparents. I was more than good with that, though. Despite Taylor’s potty mouth, he was an amazing father to Penny, and an amazing surrogate uncle to not just Arielle, but to Reagan and Aaron’s daughter, Sabrina, too.

  The alarm I’d set on my phone went off, which meant bedroom decorating needed to be put on hold for now. Because Reagan was coming to the house in an hour to do a pregnancy shoot with all three of us.

  “Okay, girls, fun time’s over,” I told them. “Reagan’s going to be here in an hour. Ari, get dressed, and Daph can come help you do your makeup in a few minutes.”

  “Okay!” Arielle exclaimed, dashing to her closet and grabbing the outfit we’d gotten her specifically for this occasion.

  I led Daphne out of Arielle’s room and into our room—damn, that felt good to say—on the other side of the house.

  “For the record, I still hate this idea,” Daphne sighed as she grabbed her outfit out of the closet. “I hate putting you and Ari and Melody in the public eye like this.”

  “You only have to release one picture to the public, baby,” I reminded her. “And I think Crystal had a point. If you’re telling the public you’re taking a break, you need to tell them why. Otherwise, your fans will assume it’s about what happened with Hugh and they’ll worry that you’re not going to go back to performing at all.”

  “I know it’s the smart thing to do. It doesn’t mean I have to like it,” she said.

  “You know Reagan’s going to make it fun and memorable, and that she’s going to get the perfect picture for you to send to Crystal,” I assured her.

  Daphne had made it clear to Crystal and Reagan that she still wanted this photo shoot to feel like her. She wanted to assure her fans that she wasn’t changing or re-branding herself just because she was a mom now. Her outfit today consisted of a pair of black leather maternity pants, a leather jacket, an artfully ripped t-shirt, and pink Chuck Taylors.

  Arielle had a pair of designer blue jeans, pink Chucks that matched Daphne’s, and a graphic tee. After a lot of begging on her part, Daphne and I had even caved and gotten temporary pink hair dye so she could have pink highlights in her hair too. Daphne had done an amazing job with the highlights last night and it was actually really cute. It would be a pain to wash out, though.

  Once Daphne left the room to do Arielle’s makeup, I donned my outfit for the photo shoot, which was a pair of black designer jeans that I’d specifically told Daphne I didn’t want to know the cost of, a leather jacket, a plain white t-shirt, and black combat boots. And then I grabbed the small velvet box that I’d stashed at the bottom of my sock drawer and slipped it into my jacket pocket.

  “Oh, my God. Did you bring your entire photography studio, Reag?” Daphne laughed as Reagan and her assistant, Anna, carried a ton of lighting rigs and even a couple of backdrops into the house.

  “Nah. Just half of it,” Reagan teased as she started setting up. “Aww, Ari, look at you! You look adorable with those pink highlights!”

  “Don’t tell her that,” I groaned. “Now we’ll never get her to agree to wash them out.”

  “I have to wash them out. They’re not allowed at school,” Arielle said. “But it’s fun every once in a while.”

  Thank God, that was one battle we didn’t have to fight with her. I’d been convinced we’d have to wash them out while she was asleep.

  “I want to get a few shots at the piano, Reag,” Daphne said.

  “I’ve got you covered, babe,” Reagan assured her. “I promise, you’re going to love every single one of these shots. Anna, make sure you set up the lights around the piano.”

  Twenty minutes later, Reagan had finished her setup, and we started the photo shoot. And I had to admit, she made it fun. She got really creative with the shots, and they definitely felt like Daphne’s normal photo shoots that she would have done for press packets or album releases.

  “Why don’t you play a song on the piano, Daph?” Reagan suggested after a couple of hours. “I’ll get a couple of shots of you playing. That’ll show your fans that you’re not going to stop making music.”

  Daphne grinned. “I love that.” She turned to Arielle. “Come sit with me, Ari. You’re going to sing this one with me.”

  I immediately recognized the opening notes of “Let It Go” from Frozen, and Reagan grinned as she started snapping pictures of the two loves of my life singing together. I’d had no idea that Daphne even knew how to play this song, though I had a sneaking suspicion she’d learned it specifically so she could play it with Arielle. And this was probably the only version of this song I’d never get tired of hearing.

  “Go over there with them, Ezra,” Reagan whispered during the second verse. “I want some of all three of you.”

  I obeyed, walking over to stand behind them and putting a hand on each of their shoulders. And, as the song ended, Reagan smiled and winked at me. Unfortunately, what we were about to do would probably annoy Daphne…until she realized it was a ruse for what was really happening.

  “Don’t hate me, babe, but Crystal asked me to get a couple of traditional pregnancy session shots. You know, your man kneeling in front of your stomach and all that jazz,” Reagan said. “But after that, we’re done.”

  Daphne groaned. “Fine. Where do you want me?”

  “Just stand up next to the piano. Ezra, kneel in front of her and touch her stomach. And Ari, stand next to your dad. Or you can kneel too if you want,” Reagan instructed.

  We posed for the shot, which felt completely forced and ridiculous, and then I took a deep breath and looked up at the woman I knew I’d love for the rest of my life.

  “Daph, if someone had told me nine months ago when I first took the job as your security guard that I’d be here right now, I would have told them they were crazy. But, from the second I met you, I felt something I’d never felt before. You got under my skin in a way no one else ever has. And two months later, standing in a dressing room at Madison Square Garden, I fell in love with you as I watched you singing into a can of hairspray in front of a mirror with my daughter. You accepted me just as I was, you didn’t judge me for my past, and you accepted Ari with open arms. You weren’t afraid of being the partner I needed, or of being the mother figure she needed.

  “I almost lost you a few months ago, and if there’s anything that day taught me, it’s that I never want to spend a single day without you ever again. I told you once that you belonged in my life, and in Ari’s life, and that I was going to do everything I could to make sure you stayed in our lives. So, this is me doing that.”

  I pulled the small velvet box out of my pocket and opened it to reveal a ring that was so much smaller than what she deserved. But I’d saved up every single penny of my salary that I wasn’t spending to support Arielle to buy it. Even though Daphne had put me on her bank account a couple of months back, it felt wrong spending her money on an engagement ring.

  “Daphne Faye DeVille, will you be my wife?” I asked.

  “And will you be my mom?” Arielle added.

  �
�Yes,” she sniffled. “A thousand times, yes.”

  Before I could even put the ring on her finger, she knelt down in front of me and kissed me, then turned to hug Arielle and kiss her forehead.

  “I love you so much,” she sniffled, turning back to me. “Both of you. You’re my whole world.”

  I took her left hand and slid the ring on her finger. “It’s nowhere near what you deserve, but—”

  She cut me off with a kiss. “It’s perfect. Just like you.”

  After we went out for a celebratory dinner with all of our friends and family—and after we finally got Arielle to bed, which took forever because she was so excited—Daphne curled up next to me in bed with a cup of hot chocolate as we watched Stranger Things on Netflix.

  “I’ve been thinking,” she said.

  “About what?” I asked.

  “About Ari. This is the second time she’s asked me to be her mom. She asked me the same thing in Portland when we told her that Melody was on the way.”

  “You are her mom,” I told her, turning her head for a kiss. “You’re an amazing mom to her.”

  She smiled. “And she’s my daughter. In all the ways that matter. I love her so much, and I’d do anything to make sure that she’s safe and happy. But I want to make it official. I want to adopt her, Ezra. And I don’t want to wait until we get married to do it. I want to show her that I’m not going to love her any less when Melody’s born, and that she’s every bit as much my kid as Melody is.”

  I had no words. None. Daphne had proved time and again in the past several months that she loved my daughter like her own. I didn’t need a piece of paper to know that. But to Arielle, who had never had a real mother in her entire life? That piece of paper would be everything.

  I took Daphne’s mug from her and put it on my nightstand, then I kissed her and rolled her onto her back, sliding her shirt up. She chuckled into my mouth and pulled back.

  “I take it that’s a yes?” she giggled.

  I kissed her again. “No. That’s a ‘fuck, yes.’”

  “Thanks so much for managing tonight, Frankie,” I said as he walked into the small venue I was performing in tonight. “I didn’t want to bug Natasha to fly all the way out here from Sienna just for this show.”

  “It’s for a good cause,” he said, grinning. “I’ve never seen those two so happy, you know. As much as I miss having Ezra around all the time, I’m glad he’s been able to slow down and just be Ari’s dad for a change.”

  “Me too,” I agreed. “I never would have forced him to stop working, but I’m glad he decided to. Except when I’m on my tours, of course.”

  He chuckled. “He was talking about bringing the kids on the road next time you do a tour. Was he serious?”

  “Yep. I’m having my bus modified right now so we can. I’m putting in a couple of bunks and a space for Ari to do her schoolwork. And we’ll hire a tutor for her and homeschool her while I’m on the road. I don’t ever want him to have to be away from her for so long again. I honestly don’t know how he did it.”

  “You really love her, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I do. It’s actually been kind of hard reigning myself in and not just spoiling her rotten all the time, because I just want to give her the world and everything in it,” I sighed.

  “To her, that piece of paper you’re giving her tonight is the world,” he told me. “You’re giving her the one thing every kid should have, but she never got. And, in typical rock star fashion, you’re putting on an entire concert to tell her about it.”

  I laughed. “Go big or go home, right?”

  “You know it,” he chuckled. “Let’s get to work making sure it goes off without a hitch.”

  As exhilarating as it was to perform in a huge arena with a ton of people, there was something special about doing a scaled-back show in a smaller, more intimate venue like this. It made me feel more of a connection with the audience, and it just felt more personal. And that was what I wanted for tonight. Because tonight was very personal to me.

  Unlike what I usually did, I sang “All the Girls Love Alice” before I walked offstage after the main set. And then when I walked back onstage for the encore, one of the stagehands brought out a stand-alone keyboard and a stool for me, and I sat down and put my microphone in the stand that was sitting next to it.

  “So, I’m doing things a little different tonight,” I started. “I do want to sing a few more songs for you guys, but they’re not my songs. They’re songs that are special to me, because they remind me of some of the best times of my life. Times I shared with the people I love the most. Um, I have a keyboard mixer on my bus, so I can write songs on the road if the muse hits. But sometimes I also just like to play for fun. And, about eight months ago, I was traveling from New York City to New Orleans with the man who is now my fiancé. When he saw the keyboard and asked me if I played, I sat down and played this song, just because it’s one of my favorite songs. And when I was done, he told me I needed to cover the song for real, not just with a mixer on a bus. So, this is me covering that song, with a full band behind me this time. Enjoy, babe.”

  My keyboard player started playing the synthesizer intro to “Baba O’Riley,” and I played the actual piano part. I had to admit, I actually loved how this sounded with my whole band. I was seriously considering covering it on my next album. Okay, maybe I was a little biased because it was on my short list of all-time favorite songs ever.

  When the song ended, I set my keyboard to the synthesizer setting. Because I couldn’t even think about letting my band play this song without participating in it this time. It was the song that had brought me the love of my life. And I deserved serious props for figuring out a way to rehearse it with my band without Ezra finding out.

  “Um, since I’m with my home crowd tonight and we’re only a few hours away from New York City, did anyone here go to my second makeup Madison Square Garden show about eight months ago?” I asked the audience.

  There were some scattered cheers in the audience.

  “Well, in that case, about five of you will probably remember me throwing an extra cover in at the end of that concert,” I chuckled. “That was my attempt at being romantic, I guess. I’ve always felt like music can speak when words fail, and that night, there was something I needed to say to someone special. But everything I tried out on the thin air in my dressing room didn’t begin to describe what I was feeling. So I decided to sing about what I was feeling instead. Since I’m engaged to the guy now, I guess it worked. Anyway, this was the song I sang. And, even though the heartbreak beat I was feeling that night is long gone now, I’ll always love this song, because it brought me and my fiancé together. I love you, Ezra.”

  As I started to play “Heartbreak Beat,” I glanced into the wings, where Ezra was standing with Arielle. He was grinning from ear to ear as he mouthed “I love you.” I shot him a wink before starting to sing. And after the song was over, I stood up and grabbed my microphone out of its stand.

  “Okay, I have one more song I want to sing for you guys. And you’d better remember it, because me singing this song will probably never happen again,” I teased, to scattered laughter. “Um, the first time I met Ezra’s daughter, Arielle, in person, I ended up hanging out with her in my dressing room before a concert. I had my iPod on shuffle and we were listening to music as I did her makeup to match my stage makeup. One of my guilty pleasure songs came on, and we both just started singing along and dancing to the song. And the next thing I knew, we were using a hairbrush and a hairspray can as microphones and having our own private concert in front of the mirror. I had a lot of stressful stuff happening in my life at the time, but in that moment, just being silly with her and singing along to a Miley Cyrus song, for the first time in a long time, I was genuinely happy. I fell in love with that sweet girl that day, and that love has only grown as I’ve gotten to know her and seen what a kind, compassionate, smart, talented, and goofy young lady she is. I’m so privileged to be a par
t of her life now and get to watch her grow up. Ari, this one’s for you.”

  As my band started to play “Party in the U.S.A.,” I looked at Arielle in the wings and blew her a kiss. Her smile was big enough to light up the whole room all by itself. And, hopefully, it would get bigger. When the song ended, I took a deep breath.

  “Ezra, Ari, can you guys come onstage for a minute?” I asked.

  Ezra ushered an obviously confused Arielle onto the stage, and as I hugged him and stole a quick kiss, he slipped me the rolled-up piece of paper he’d stashed in his jacket pocket. Then I turned to my daughter and knelt down so I was at her level. Okay, at shoulder-level with her. But that was better than towering over her in my heeled boots. Yes, I was still wearing heeled boots at seven months pregnant. And my back was killing me right now.

  “Ari, when your dad asked me to marry him, you asked me a question too,” I said into the microphone. “Do you remember what you asked me?”

  She nodded.

  “Can you tell everyone what your question was?”

  “I asked you to be my mom,” she mumbled into the microphone.

  “Yep. I wish so much that I’d been a part of your life all along, because I wish you could have grown up with a mom who loves you as much as you deserve to be loved. I can’t go back and change that, but I can do my best to make up for lost time. And this is the only way I know how to do that.”

  I handed her the adoption certificate that Ezra and I had gotten in the mail last week, and she unrolled it and looked at it. Her mouth dropped open and she looked up at me, then at her dad.

  “Do you know what all that writing means, sweetheart?” I asked.

  She nodded, and I held the microphone out to her again.

  “It means you adopted me,” she said, a couple of tears trailing down her cheeks.

  “That’s right. I’ve always loved you like a daughter, from the very first time I met you. But now it’s official. I’m your mom,” I told her.