Never Change

by Anne Carol

  Trevor, looking like James Dean with his dark hair in a pompadour, sat across from us, teasing us with his eyes. “Look at the lovebirds. You two make any babies yet?” He nodded in our direction. David and I had our chairs pushed together, and his arm was around me.

  I patted my tummy. “Actually, I’m pregnant with triplets,” I joked, elbowing David, whose jaw fell open.

  “Davy!” Trevor hooted. “You sure don’t waste any time!”

  Everyone—band members plus significant others—turned our way with raised eyebrows.

  David, wearing a flushed face, held his hands up. “She was kidding, everyone! But when it happens, you’ll be the first to know, Miles.” He winked at Vinyl Fog’s lead singer, who simply shook his head.

  Brooke, bass player Don’s wife, nudged me from her seat beside me. “I missed you, Beth. Please don’t leave me alone with this lot again!” she whispered.

  Grimacing, I said, “Sorry.” I took a sip of tea. “So baby’s with Grandma?”

  “Yes, we dropped her off on the way.” She grabbed my arm excitedly. “Oh, Beth, you and David have to come by. The little sweetie is crawling!”

  “Really? We’ll have to run by later.” I missed Emma, our nine-month-old goddaughter, and couldn’t wait to see her latest achievement.

  We returned to the group conversation, which was basically a recap of the last few weeks of the tour. Apparently, David and I had missed out on a few developments. Martin was now dating a new gal, Dusty, whom he met at a London nightclub a week ago. Flavor of the month, I thought to myself. Poor guy couldn’t make a long-term commitment to save his life. I wondered what he was looking for and why he couldn’t seem to find it.

  Pete shocked us by introducing his girlfriend, Daphne, an American he’d met at a party in Seattle. He’d never invited a woman on tour before, so this was noteworthy. Unfortunately, I didn’t see it lasting. I had a pretty good read on people, and Daphne gave me a weird vibe. Plus she didn’t seem like Pete’s type at all. Yeah, she was a ginger—Pete always went for the redheads—but she was a little too polished, almost phony. Still, I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt and treated her like one of us throughout lunch.

  Now that the big American tour was finished, it was time for the guys to get back into the studio to work on album #4. Studio time would be broken up by local gigs and shooting a few music videos. The band would be busier than ever over the next month, and I wondered how David would handle the stress. I watched him eye the other guys’ beers, and I couldn’t help but worry. It had to be killing him, drinking tea, with temptation right in front of him. Fortunately, he remained strong, at least outwardly. Perhaps my presence made the difference. Whatever it was, I was proud of him.

  Unfortunately, he reached for his pack of cigarettes, his new best friend. He’d been smoking more frequently since coming out of rehab, and it made me uneasy. Was he trading in one addiction for another? So far, I’d kept my mouth shut, as I didn’t want to put more pressure on him. But though I remained quiet, I instinctively crossed my arms over my chest and looked away.

  “I don’t want to hear it,” he snapped.

  “Terrible habit,” I said with my back turned to him.

  “Then go somewhere else if you can’t handle it. I’m sick of your dirty looks,” he growled.

  My jaw dropped as I faced him, a comeback on my tongue, but out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Trevor smirking at us. Darn him and his smug face. It was sickening how much he enjoyed watching us argue. Well, I wasn’t about to give him a show.

  “Fine.” I rose from the table, needing a breather.

  David touched my arm. “Where are you going?”

  “The ladies’ room,” I hissed, yanking my arm from his grasp.

  Falling back against the seat, I stared after her. She was cross with me—my greatest ally. Brilliant job, Somers. I took a drag of my cigarette and blew out a puff of smoke. My words had been just like that smoke: offensive hot air. Was there no way to take them back? If only I didn’t feel so irritable today. Being faced with bottles of liquor all across the table was harder than I’d anticipated. My mouth watered with desire for just a taste of beer. And now my head was starting to ache. I wished Beth knew how much this tormented me. Smoking merely gave me something to do so I wouldn’t dwell on what I couldn’t have.

  I closed my eyes and gripped my forehead, attempting to relieve the pounding, but a chorus of giggles broke my concentration. I glanced up to find four young women approaching our table. Great! Groupies, just what I need.

  Blindsided by the unwanted attention, I sat in stunned silence as the brunette with too much black eye makeup plopped herself down in Beth’s seat, grabbed my cigarette, and took a puff. She then leaned into me and caressed my shoulder. “I’ve loved your band since the early days. And you’re my favorite.” When she reached for my hair, I quickly ducked away, flashing my wedding ring.

  “Thank you. I’m my wife’s favorite, too.” My voice came out hard.

  Brooked choked on her water. “Nice response, David.”

  I froze when I saw Beth heading our way. Miss Makeup still occupied Beth’s chair, intruding on my space in an effort to get my attention. It wasn’t the first time I’d been approached like this, but I hadn’t dealt with groupies since before rehab. The girl was making me uncomfortable, so I gave Beth my special signal in the form of a pleading expression. Usually groupies moved on to the unattached band members once they could see I was taken.

  This time, however, Beth didn’t move toward me. She merely scowled, and for a moment I feared she would bolt. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d run from me. To my relief, she continued on to the table, as the brunette regarded her with a cheeky expression. The conversations were flowing among the others, to the exception of Trevor, who snubbed his groupie and gestured to Beth. My body heat rose and I held my breath. No, Beth. Come to me, please.

  But she didn’t. She, in fact, danced over to the seat beside Trevor. Now the others had our attention. “Ooh, David. Your wife’s giving you the brush-off!” Pete cackled.

  Trevor put his arm around Beth and gave her a sloppy kiss on the cheek. I popped up from my seat, nearly knocking it down, and charged over to him. “Get your dirty paws off my wife,” I growled, teeth clenched.

  The girls snickered, seeming to enjoy the show. “I love when a man protects his woman,” said Trevor’s blonde groupie.

  “So charming. I think I like you even more,” the brunette said with a drip.

  “Relax, Somers. You had your hands full.” He nodded toward the woman next to me. “Beth can sit wherever she wants, right, darling?” He glanced at Beth. My body tensed and my headache grew worse by the second.

  Beth shrugged, and I noticed her eyes now glistened. She wasn’t usually bothered by flirty women, but I’d been short with her earlier, so no doubt this was my doing. I felt like a pile of rubbish. When will I learn?

  Itching to get her alone so we could mend things, I walked over to Beth and held out my hand. “Come on, doll.”

  Without a word, she took my hand and let me pull her up.

  We didn’t hesitate to apologize on the drive home. I said, “I’m sorry for sounding harsh,” at the same time she stated, “Sorry for giving you a dirty look.” Then we both laughed, lightening the mood.

  She sighed, touching my arm. “I’ll try to give you more grace on the smoking.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

  “But just to be clear, I won’t want you smoking around our baby.”

  “Of course.”

  Beth turned and stared out the window. “Boy, those groupies didn’t waste time, did they? That one was all over you.”

  “Sorry, did that bother you?” I shuddered, recalling the woman’s bold behavior.

  She shrugged. “It’s not your fault. I know it’s part of the job.”

  “I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t care for the attention. If it was the other way around, I’d probably go
mad, watching other blokes flirting with you.”

  Chuckling, she said, “Yeah, that wouldn’t go over well.”

  The lunchtime fiasco was now behind us, and I had my lady beside me on the sofa as we listened to an old Beatles record.

  With “In My Life” playing in the background, I stroked her flushed cheek with the back of my finger. “This is nice.”

  “Sure beats fighting.”

  “I don’t like fighting with you, but I do enjoy the making up part.” I kissed her forehead, completely under her spell.

  “Yeah, I don’t mind that part.” She grinned. “So, not to change the subject, but we should visit Emma on the way to your parents’ this afternoon. We haven’t seen her in forever, and Brooke says she’s crawling now.”

  I slipped my arm around her. “Is she? Well, we’ll have to see the little princess.”

  “How are you feeling about seeing your parents?”

  I shrugged. “My mum will only be positive, but Dad will no doubt make a comment about my drug use.” My stomach was ill just thinking about facing him.

  “You have to face them sooner or later. Just remember that no matter what, they love you.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind as he lectures me,” I mumbled.

  Beth rubbed the top of my leg. “Relax, babe. It’ll be fine.”

  I hope so.

  I dreaded seeing my father, but I could no longer avoid him. It was time to be brave and endure whatever ugly words he had to say.

  “Welcome, welcome!” Margaret gushed as she swung the door open. She stepped forward and gathered David in her arms. “Oh, my son.”

  “Hello, mother.” He hugged her tightly.

  “Beth,” she said, turning to me and squeezing me. “How are you, love?”

  “We’re doing better,” I said, and the three of us headed inside. Halfway down the front hall, Charles stood with a tight smile.

  He met David’s hesitant glance and gave him a one-armed hug. “Glad you’re home.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  Charles then greeted me, and soon all four of us were situated in the living room, like old times.

  “I’m making Beef Wellington, your favorite, David.”

  “Mm, that sounds wonderful,” I said, patting my gurgling stomach.

  David laughed at me. “My peckish wife.”

  Silence filled the room for a moment.

  Finally Charles spoke up. “You look good, son. Feeling back to normal?”

  “Well, it’s a new normal, but yes, I’m getting there.”

  I exchanged looks with Margaret, and I almost did a double take. It was clear she’d lost many nights sleep over David’s addiction. Dark circles under her eyes were prominent, as was a new patch of gray hair. Setting my hand on David’s arm, I assured, “He’s done really well. The program was a great help.”

  “Oh, I’m so glad,” she said, letting out a long breath. “You have no idea how hard we’ve prayed.”

  “We felt the prayers,” I said.

  “Yes, thank you,” David added. He fidgeted beside me, making the sofa shake.

  “We’re just glad you got help when you did. It could’ve turned out so much worse,” Charles said. He’d know, as he worked in the prison system and had surely come across many drug-addicted inmates.

  Margaret started to get up. “I’m going to finish supper, so don’t mind me.”

  I could feel David stiffen beside me, so I gently rubbed his back. He was expecting a lecture or scolding, I imagined, now that his mother had left the room. But the stern words never came. Instead, Charles simply asked about my family, and I gladly filled him in until we were called to the table.

  After dinner, the atmosphere was even more relaxed, as Charles put on a jazz record and we all played a round of cards. Between games, he pulled me out of my seat and danced me around the small living room. “She’s still got it,” he announced to everyone as we circled the makeshift dance floor.

  David’s lips were no longer pressed together, but curved up into a bright smile. “I might have to cut in, so I get my chance.”

  “You should. But, one more dip.” Charles dipped me and then released me to David’s arms. The space in the room grew even tighter as Charles danced with Margaret, while I glided around with my handsome man.

  What’d started off as a tense evening ended as an impromptu dance party.

  Thank you, Ray Charles.

  “You’re awfully quiet over there,” I said, studying David as he pored over his music magazine. I was putting away laundry while he relaxed in bed. “I think it went well, don’t you?”

  He barely glanced up, and I could see his eyes were droopy. “It was a bit awkward at first, like my dad didn’t know how to behave around me.”

  Hanging up the last of his shirts, I said, “I agree, but he didn’t scold or criticize you. He only expressed how glad he was you’re in recovery. Much better than we both expected.”

  “Yeah, I suppose. Sure was happy to see you.”

  I chortled. “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting him to grab me off the chair and swing me around the room.”

  “He always did like dancing with you to his favorite Ray Charles’ tune. I think my parents missed you.”

  “They missed both of us. Your mom made your favorite dish.” My stomach still felt heavy from the Beef Wellington. A light breakfast was in order for me tomorrow.

  Knowing David was in a funk, I took a seat on the bed and touched his cheek. “What’s wrong, babe?”

  When he looked up, his brown eyes glistened with moisture. “This isn’t going to be easy, Beth…the whole recovery process. Being in rehab was nothing compared to real life.” He stared at his hands. “I’m so afraid of falling.”

  I rubbed his back. “I’ll be right here, making sure you don’t. You are my biggest priority.”

  Gripping his temples, he said, “When I think about how much I’ve put you through over the past six months, I-I just wish I could take it all back.”

  “David, stop. That’s in the past. Your counselor said we need to move forward, not dwell on things you can’t change.”

  “I know, but it’s hard.” He dropped his gaze and shielded his face with his hand. “I’m going to need a great deal of patience from you as I figure out how to be this new version of myself.”

  “Already done.” I tilted his chin upward and looked him in the eye. “We’ll get through this together—one day at a time.” I kissed his lips. “Now, let’s smooch for a while and then get some sleep, sound good?” I winked.

  “You always know the right thing to say, love.” He pulled me close and pressed his lips to mine, devouring me with a kiss that had me seeing stars.

  David stayed close to home as much as possible over the next several weeks. This was a quite a feat for a rock star, with his various performances, public appearances, radio shows, and recording sessions. Those required his presence, but when optional social events came up, he declined. I didn’t know whether to be glad or concerned. It was understandable he wanted to avoid triggers, but given his occupation, I felt he needed to practice the tools he’d learned before embarking on another tour. Between close quarters with the other band members and easy access to drugs and alcohol backstage, David would surely face temptation.

  I encouraged him to be more social, but he wasn’t interested in spreading his wings. His performances at shows seemed robotic, like his spirit wasn’t in it. Not that it affected the quality of the music, but it put a damper on the stage show. His fans wanted more from him, it was unmistakable from their shouts of encouragement, and I prayed he’d loosen up as time passed. For now, I was just glad he was staying sober. He’d found a local AA meeting that ensured his anonymity, and his new sponsor was a member of a band from the sixties—a great match.

  One night I was on the hunt for my grandma’s Bible, when I stumbled upon David reading it in bed. “Anything good in there?”

  He startled and looked up, wide-eyed. “Everything. I
t’s brilliant.” Pointing to it, he said, “I’m sorry, did you want it?”

  Shaking my head and waving at him, I replied, “Keep reading. I have my pocket version.” I was curious to know which section of the Bible he was reading, but I didn’t want to be nosy, so I left him alone. We’d gone to church a few times with his mom since we’d been back. It was a safe haven for David. He wasn’t poked and prodded by fans and photojournalists at church. He was just David Somers, son of Margaret and Charles.

  Personally, I was learning to rely on my faith to get me through the rough times, so I found it uplifting to go to services. I’d also started meeting with the pastor’s wife, as I longed for spiritual advice on overcoming my past hurts. I thought about meeting directly with the pastor, but my need for a woman’s counsel steered me in her direction. The fact Katherine had experienced a miscarriage herself, and went on to have three children, gave me hope. Within the first few weeks she’d become a mentor to me, and I cherished our times together.

  As my soul started to heal, the itch to have a baby grew stronger. Time spent with Emma only furthered that desire. Yet, a part of me felt guilty, as if I was shoving aside the baby we’d lost in favor of a new life. Katherine suggested visiting Michael’s grave might bring me peace, but the first visit only resulted in tears on my part. Margaret came outside and brought me tissues.

  “Need some company, dear?”

  I glanced up at her, noticing she clutched her Bible in one hand. “Yes, I could use some.”

  “Would you like me to read?” She held up the worn leather book.

  “That’d be wonderful.”

  She pulled up a lounge chair and took a seat, then proceeded to read Psalm 61.

  After she finished, she took my hand and prayed over me. I didn’t escape this visit without weepy eyes, but it was exactly what I needed.

  On the second visit, I brought along my own Bible, along with a journal, which was becoming a prayer journal. I ended up writing for over an hour.