Never Change

by Anne Carol

  “I can’t wait until we have our own.”

  “Yeah, it’ll be nice not to be the only family man on the tour bus.”

  I chuckled and slapped his back. “No worries. We’ll be working on it soon.”

  We chatted a bit more about fatherhood, and then I left him alone so he could grab some sleep. I moved over and sat beside Martin, who was having the blues today over his break-up with Dusty. Though my intuition told me he was upset about something, or someone, other than Dusty, since it’d already been a few weeks.

  “What’s going on with you, mate?”

  “Do you have any idea how lucky you are to have found the love of your life?” he asked as he stared out the window.

  “Yes, I do. And you’ll find yours eventually.” I grabbed a jar of peanuts from the table and popped a handful in my mouth, then offered it to him.

  He waved it away and sighed. “I’ve already found mine…but she left me years ago when I moved from Manchester.”

  “Really? Who is she?” I hadn’t heard of this girl, but no question she was on his mind.

  “Ava, my first love.”

  “Ava. Tell me about her.”

  “Maybe later,” he replied, leaning against the back of the seat and closing his eyes. “All I know is that I never want to be like Trevor. That man has no respect for women. I’m tired of all the hangers-on he brings on the bus.” He spoke in a low voice since Trevor was asleep a few seats away.

  “I’m with you. At least Pete’s not doing it anymore. Remember when we had to deal with both of their groupie shenanigans?”

  “Yeah,” Martin said. “However, I’m not too impressed with Pete’s fiancé, Daphne. I’m convinced she’s just eye candy for him. You know he’s always gone for the redheads. And I believe she’s with him for the wrong reasons. Have you seen how much he buys for her?”

  “I agree. Though at least he’s stopped using cocaine.”

  “True. How have you been this tour, Davy?”

  “Good. Helps to have Beth along. She’s a lifesaver, literally.” I wasn’t going to tell him we were planning to try for a baby soon, as only Don and Brooke knew that. But the dream of a family was keeping me clean and sober.

  “And speaking of your lifesaver…” His eyes drifted to my right as Beth planted herself in my lap. “Hey there, handsome. I miss you. You want to play a game of cards?” Beth kissed my neck, making my skin tingle.

  “I’d love to.” Turning to Martin, I said, “You want to join in?”

  “Why not?”

  All in all, the UK tour went off without a hitch save for a distraught groupie that Trevor had to practically carry off the bus, and a few roadies getting food poisoning. The best part was we introduced songs off our upcoming album, and the fans seemed to eat them up. I was proud of this latest studio album and couldn’t wait to perform the songs worldwide. By the end of the tour, I felt confident I could do more touring without falling off the wagon. My focus was back on the music, which was what mattered most.

  With the album releasing soon, it was also time to shoot some new videos. Morris loved the idea of doing videos in exotic locales, somewhat like Duran Duran and a few other rock bands. Audiences loved seeing their favorite bands frolicking along the beach or exploring jungles. It was more appealing than simply watching a band perform on stage. Videos were turning into mini films, starring the band members, so we had a powwow session once we returned to London, and the idea of a Caribbean video shoot was brought up. I personally loved it, though for selfish reasons. Beth and I had never gone on a real honeymoon, and I intended to use this opportunity to take her somewhere special. She’d been all over England, Europe, and America with me but they weren’t exactly romantic holidays.

  That night, I entered our flat toting a bouquet of daisies. I couldn’t wait to see the look on Beth’s face when I told her the news. She was at the stove top when I appeared. Whirling around, she saw the flowers and blurted out, “Don’t tell me Trevor got engaged!”

  “Uh, no.”

  “Well, than what is it you want?” Her hand was on her hip, and she wore a smug look, like she was playing with me.

  “You, only you.” I grinned and came closer, setting the bouquet down. Wrapping my arms around her thin waist, I whispered, “I’m going to take you somewhere, sweet girl.”

  She splayed her hands on my chest and beamed. “Really? Where? The countryside?”

  “No, farther.”

  “Hmm…Paris?”

  “Think beach, the sea.”

  “Brighton?”

  “No, no, try the Caribbean Islands.”

  “What? Are you serious?”

  I explained to her that the band would be shooting a few videos in Petite St. Vincent, but we would fly out four days ahead of the others so we could have a proper honeymoon, albeit three years late.

  She gave me a tight squeeze. “Oh, I love you! When? When?”

  I chuckled at her enthusiasm. “Two weeks.”

  “Two weeks? I want to leave tomorrow!” She backed away and smiled up at me.

  I cupped her chin in my hands. “Oh, my angel, me, too.”

  “Thank you for making this happen. It sounds amazing.”

  “It’s my pleasure.” I paused for a moment while I got the courage to ask the next question. “So, how about we make this a…baby-making holiday?”

  She chuckled as her face turned pink.

  “Don’t you think it’d be the perfect place, when we’re relaxed and away from everything?” I asked, hopeful.

  She answered with a grin and a nod.

  “So, we’ll do it?”

  “Yeah, we can make this a baby-making venture,” she said, glowing. “Just don’t announce it to everyone.”

  “I promise I won’t.” I picked her up and swung her around. “Thank you.”

  I gazed out the tiny window to see only silky blue water below. It was just me and David now, plus two hundred other passengers, on our flight to the Caribbean Islands. My arm tingled at the sensation of David’s lips pressed to the back of my hand. His breath warmed my skin—and my heart—and I ached to be alone with him, away from everything that could distract us from each other.

  “How are you, angel?” he whispered, drawing invisible circles on my wrist.

  I sighed, falling back against the seat. “I’m in awe. I can’t believe we’re finally having our honeymoon. I mean, I loved the first one, don’t get me wrong, but I’m looking forward to having you all to myself on a private beach.”

  “Believe me, I’ve been wanting a holiday with you ever since I got out of rehab. We need this chance to re-group, away from our parents and the music world.”

  Brushing my fingers through his hair, I said softly, “You deserve some time to relax. You’ve had a lot to deal with lately, and I’m proud of how strong you’ve become. My hero.” I kissed his cheek.

  “I’ll always be your hero,” he said, his chestnut eyes appearing misty.

  My smile was genuine, yet it masked the thread of uncertainty swirling through my mind. I turned back toward the window so David wouldn’t see the muscles in my face tense up. I was an emotional basket case over the decision to abandon my birth control pills, and last night my deepest, darkest feelings had spilled out onto my pillow.

  Everything had been packed, save for those pills, the very ones preventing us from starting a family. The now unwanted pills had sat there on my end table, taunting me, as if they were asking, Are you sure? Finally, after they’d caused enough grief, I grabbed the container and threw them in the drawer. Yet the tears came…for my lost baby, for fear of losing another baby, for fear of having a healthy baby and doing right by that child, and—most of all—for fear of the great unknown.

  David had awoken to my soft cries and tugged me to his side. “I don’t like seeing you so upset,” he whispered, stroking my arm.

  “I know. It’s this tug-of-war of emotions. I’m tired of it. I only want to be happy about trying for another baby.�
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  “And you will be, love. You just need to let go. Holding on to those old feelings will keep you from healing and moving forward. We’ll always have that loss, but it doesn’t mean we can’t go on with our lives.”

  Nodding weakly, I’d turned over and nestled into his chest, allowing myself to imagine the two of us holding a newborn baby. The promise of life: it would never erase the sadness over Michael, but the addition of a child would fill us with so much joy, I couldn’t imagine not trying. The time was now, and if I didn’t let go of my fears, I might never know the beauty of holding our son or daughter in my arms. I had to take that step. And ultimately, it was in God’s hands.

  I sniffed. “I know I don’t often ask this, but can you pray with me?”

  “I’d be glad to.”

  Holding one another tightly, we’d each said a short prayer, asking for peace over our decision, and also for a healthy pregnancy and child.

  Now we were on our way to a tropical island in the Caribbean—leaving my birth control pills thousands of miles behind. We’re really going to do this. There was no turning back.

  Stepping off the plane hours later, we were hit with a gust of warm, moist air, so thick it literally stuck to my skin. Fanning myself, I quipped, “Honey, I don’t think we’re in England anymore.”

  David’s hair flopped over his forehead, and I noticed drips of perspiration travel down the back of his neck. He wore his hair longer these days, and I wondered if he now regretted that style. “It’s pretty toasty.”

  “Whew! Isn’t it? Good thing I plan on wearing a bikini all week.”

  He waggled his eyebrows at me. “Or nothing.”

  Smirking, I teased, “I’ve never tried skinny-dipping before.”

  “You know what I meant. And no skinny dipping on my watch.”

  “Oh, you’re no fun.”

  We ended our playful banter and proceeded to fetch our luggage and go through customs. Once we were finished with the necessities, we met our driver, who was to take us to our private getaway. My stomach fluttered, knowing we were that much closer to our personal oasis. I’d dreamed of a vacation like this for over three years.

  The ride in the rusty brown Buick was long, hot, and bumpy, but I was too excited to care. How could I when nothing but gorgeous landscape surrounded us? The mix of colors was bright and vivid, the way my insides felt right now. And the water…oh, I’d never seen such a glistening color of sea blue. I imagined it was as warm as bath water, yet refreshing at the same time.

  When we finally pulled up to our vacation home, I gasped. “Oh, David. How are we ever going to return to London after this?”

  Nestled against the tropical foliage sat a quaint one-story bungalow with a wood shingled roof and a pressed-in stone exterior. The first thing that caught my eye was the cerulean door which served as the entrance. My senses came alive and welcomed the splash of color, a stark contrast to gray London. Best of all were the picture windows which graced each side of the house, allowing ample light to stream inside. Thank you, God. I need light, warmth, and the softness of sand.

  Upon entering the house, I wasted no time dumping my bags, kicking off my shoes, and doing a little dance on the cool terra-cotta floor. It was no sprawling mansion, but that made it all the more charming. The cozy kitchen had a breakfast bar with iron stools hugging the tile countertops. A round dining table with wicker chairs and floral cushions sat off to the side of the cooking area. My favorite feature of the kitchen was that it opened up into the living room, making it one big space. Matching the floral print dining chairs was a large sofa, situated in front of a wood coffee table displaying brochures and magazines about the island.

  I whirled around and jumped into David’s arms, startling him. “Oh, I love it!” Feeling the warm stickiness of his skin, I said, “Maybe we should check out the shower?” No doubt I needed one myself. This hot and humid climate was a drastic change from the mild temperatures of England.

  A flirtatious grin appeared on his damp face. “Whatever you want.”

  Keeping my arms locked around his shoulders, I said, “I want you.”

  His quirky smile remained. “Then let’s find the wash room and tidy up.” He winked.

  After I released my hold, we picked up our bags headed into the bedroom, which was to the left of the entryway.

  Another gasp. “Wow! I could live here, no doubt.”

  David laughed. “I’m taking you fancy the room?”

  “Who wouldn’t?”

  Large and airy, and thankfully sporting a ceiling fan, the room looked like it was right out of a decorating magazine for coastal dwellings. Paintings of sailboats, palm branches above the headboard, artwork made of seashells, and crisp white and blue bedding. I gaped at the king-size bed. David and I still slept on a queen-size mattress in our London flat.

  “The bed’s too big,” David quipped, and I rolled my eyes.

  “It might be warm at night. Not sure I’ll want to be squished together like sardines.”

  “It’s our honeymoon. No space between us,” he declared.

  This man.

  Facing our bed was a glass slider, and outside sat a plush lounge chair wide enough for two people. Beyond the deck was a small private beach.

  “Nice. I could see myself parked there for hours, reading a book.”

  He wrapped his arms around my waist from behind. “First things first. Shower.” He nodded to the attached bathroom as he began undressing.

  Slowly peeling away my travel clothes, I felt immediate relief from the restraint of material clinging to my overheated skin. “I’ll race you to it!” I announced, scampering off, but I didn’t make it far as he flung me over his shoulder and carried me into the large stone enclosure.

  Later, as we lounged on the deck chair, sipping iced tea, I mused, “You know, I thought it’d be a bit more ceremonial.”

  David broke away from his music magazine and peered over at me. “What?”

  “Trying for the first time, officially.”

  He reached over and held my hand. Smiling, he said, “We can make it more of an event next time. More romantic, whatever you want.”

  “You don’t need much help in this place. It’s breathtaking.”

  “Yes, it is,” he said, gazing at me.

  I thumped the cover of his magazine. “You’re hopeless.”

  It didn’t take long before the warm air lulled me to sleep, with my book hugging my chest. The breeze, the flowy clothing, my handsome husband beside me…I was completely comfortable and at peace.

  I wasn’t expecting to wake up on the bed, but I didn’t mind, especially since David was tangled around me—his cheek over my heart, his sweet spot. I gave him a squeeze and kissed the top of his hair. He shifted a little and soon those liquid brown eyes were focused on me. “Hey,” he whispered.

  “Hey.” I grinned. “Did you carry me inside like a damsel in distress?”

  He nodded. “Thought you’d be more comfortable on the bed.”

  My stomach rumbled, and he laughed. “Maybe we should figure out dinner?” I suggested.

  “Good plan. I could eat. Then we can go back to our little project.”

  I giggled as I swept back his disheveled hair. “Your eagerness to start a family is adorable. You truly are a gift to me.”

  “I hope to give you another gift, one that comes in a small bundle.”

  I couldn’t stop my smile. “Yep.” Kissing him again, I inched my way off the bed, forcing David to get up. “Come on, let’s go make dinner.”

  The kitchen was stocked with all the food we’d requested. This allowed us to eat in the comfort of our bungalow, with no need to eat out and have David be recognized, thus disturbing our alone time. I didn’t mind having to cook our own food if it meant staying under the radar. Next week, when the rest of the band members arrived, there was no telling how much privacy we’d lose.

  We worked side by side in the cozy kitchen, where the electricity between us made the a
ir crackle. A stolen kiss here, pinch on the bum there…we were like two firecrackers ready to explode.

  A back door adjacent to the kitchen led to a patio with outdoor dining furniture. We set up dinner outside so we could watch the sunset. David had brought his old portable radio, and we bopped along to reggae while eating our chicken and rice. What a gorgeous place. Like paradise.

  The air was still warm as the sky darkened, so we lounged outside long past sunset. When we felt raindrops trickling down, we quickly gathered everything and headed inside. After we washed dishes to the rhythmic music, David remarked, “These are catchy tunes, but I think it’s time to find a new station. I want to slow dance with my lady.” He kissed my cheek.

  “Mmm…that sounds nice.” While I finished putting the dishes away, he worked his magic with the radio dial.

  He stopped on a station playing a song which transported us back to the 1940s, as the melodious sounds of a piano, string bass, and saxophone accompanied Billie Holiday’s sultry voice. David sang along to “The Very Thought of You,” and drew me into his embrace. I fit my body perfectly into his and let him lead me in a dance.

  “Is there any song you don’t know?” I asked, giggling softly.

  “Not many. My father schooled me in all things jazz growing up.”

  “That’s right,” I said, thinking about his father’s love of jazz and big band. “Now that we live in our own place, I sometimes miss his evening ritual of jazz, newspaper, and whiskey.”

  “Don’t forget when he’d pull you away from your reading to dance.” He laughed.

  “Yeah, but I still get that on our visits to your folks’.” I snickered. “It’s funny how he can be such a stern man one minute, and the next, he’s swinging me or your mom around the room like a teenager.”

  “He’s a man of contradictions, no doubt.”

  I gazed up to meet his eyes. “Wonder what kind of father you’ll be.”

  He rested his forehead against mine. “Protective.”

  “No surprise there.”

  “I’ll let him…or her…follow their dream, whatever it is.”