Never Change

by Anne Carol

  The warmth of his body eased my tension. I’d known being married to a recording artist would force me to be flexible. I just hadn’t anticipated being nine months pregnant on a concert tour.

  “What have I gotten myself into, marrying a musician?”

  “Too late to be asking those questions,” he said, massaging my back. “Can’t get rid of me if you tried.” His achingly charming voice always melted the layers of frustration and managed to grab my heart.

  I snuggled into his chest. “Good, because I don’t want you to go anywhere.”

  Brushing my hair back, he bent down and kissed my forehead. “I hate it when you’re cross with me.”

  Oh, Beth, I chastised myself, this man needs your love and support. “And I don’t mean to sound cross. Let’s just blame the pregnancy hormones.” I backed away and gave him a hesitant smile.

  “You do that. But try to go easy on me—I’m a sensitive bloke.” His mouth turned up into his famous heart-stopping grin.

  “Yes, you are,” I took his face between my hands and rubbed my nose against his. “My brooding rock star.”

  “—Who loves his wife and unborn child more than anything.”

  David held me for the longest time. Yes, life was complicated being married to a musician, but I never regretted my choice, the one I’d made long ago as a starry-eyed teenager. God knew what He was doing, and I had to trust He would make things work out with the birth of our baby.

  Fear of miscarrying still lingered but seemed to dissipate as time passed. More and more I was relying on my faith. Besides reading my Bible, praying, and going to church, I also enjoyed talks with my mother-in-law, who had a rock solid faith. She, herself, had experienced incredible heartache in her life. Both of her parents were gone by the time she was thirty, and she’d lost her younger brother to a drug overdose when he was only twenty-seven. Despite these losses, she was one of the strongest people I knew. I admired her strength and strived to be like her someday.

  Brooke was overjoyed about my news, and soon we found ourselves bonding over our pregnancies and commiserating over the uncomfortable symptoms. Sharing this experience with someone who’d already had a baby helped me feel more prepared. We spent every morning together, and inevitably, I used that time to pick her brain.

  One morning I’d barely knocked on the door when Brooke swung it open, wearing a huge smile.

  “Guess what Emma did this morning?” she said, ushering me inside.

  “I don’t know…used the potty for the first time?” I went into her kitchen and grabbed a mug for tea.

  “No, no. She’s too young for that.”

  I glanced over at the thirteen-month-old baby, who was gripping the side of the coffee table and toddling around it. “No! Did she take her first steps?”

  Brooke nodded excitedly and chuckled. “Of course, I had my head in the toilet at the exact moment. I’d just gotten sick when I caught her stumbling toward me, like she’d been doing it a million years. And then, ‘plop’ she was back to crawling. I tidied up, grabbed my camera, and tried to get her to do it again, but she’s been lazy.” She looked at Emma. “Right, baby? You’re a lazy girl,” she said in a high-pitched voice.

  Emma started laughing, which made me and Brooke follow suit.

  I grabbed my tea cup and joined Brooke on the couch, giving Emma a wide-eyed face. “Well, aren’t you a big girl! Wait till Daddy sees you!”

  “Oh, I rang the studio straight away. I don’t even care that I interrupted him. He was so excited.”

  Emma was now busy playing with a set of blocks. The petite girl had big blue eyes and wispy blonde hair, like Brooke, and her skin was porcelain, like her father’s. She was a little doll. A mental image of Don doting on her made me smile. “He must be anxious to get home.”

  One look around the room and you could see how much they spoiled Emma. The entire carpet was scattered with dolls, blocks, and stuffed animals. My eyes took in the cramped space as I contemplated what our tiny flat would soon look like.

  “We’re moving, you know,” Brooke said hesitantly, turning toward me.

  I jerked my head up. “What?”

  “Yeah, this place will be too small when the new baby arrives. We’re looking at a townhouse.”

  My body sagged into the cushion. “You’re kidding me. I’m going to miss you.”

  “Why don’t you and David think about moving? There are several homes for sale in the areas we’re looking. I can give you the name of our estate agent.”

  “Sure, I’ll talk to David tonight.” My adrenaline kicked in at the possibility of buying our own home. “Gosh, this is all happening so fast. Life changes at the blink of an eye, doesn’t it?”

  “Yep, one romantic evening and you’re looking at three-bedroom homes.”

  “That’s about right.” I shook my head, thinking how much Brooke’s life had changed after one careless night. She and Don had gotten pregnant only a month after they met and eloped soon after while the band was on tour in Scotland. Two and a half years later, they were still going strong.

  That night over dinner, David picked up on my somber mood. “You’re quiet this evening.”

  “Sorry. I just…Brooke told me today they’re looking for a townhouse.”

  “I know.”

  “You do?” I set down my fork.

  “Yes, Don told me. Said we should have a look as well. What do you think?”

  “Oh, can we?” I covered his hand with mine, hopeful.

  He chuckled and squeezed my hand. “Of course. Our space needs are about to change.”

  “Yes!” I punched the air and moved over to sit on his lap. “I’m so happy.” Wrapping my arms around his neck, I kissed him sweetly.

  Shopping for a house as we entered the holiday season was a treat. Naturally, I was drawn to the neighborhoods that had rows of festive-looking homes. Unfortunately, our time was limited so we needed to make a quick search. Brooke and Don had already purchased a home and were in the process of moving, and David and I hoped to be in a new house by Christmas. Things had to move fast, since Vinyl Fog was set to leave for an extensive North American tour in January.

  Morning sickness seemed to last all day for me, and I had to bring crackers with me everywhere. The queasiness was coupled with constant fatigue. David encouraged me to take naps whenever needed, and to stay off my feet if I grew tired. While I didn’t enjoy being nagged, I adored his enthusiasm over becoming a father. With the way he was acting, I half-expected him to bring home a stash of maternity clothes. And in mid-December, when he brought home a department store box, I thought, oh, no. Upon opening it, however, I was shocked to see a shiny new evening gown.

  “It’s for the music industry party.” He beamed as I held up the dress in front of me. “You’ll look stunning in it.”

  I was floored by his gesture. The dress was one I’d gawked at while window shopping when we were out and about. Yes, I’d drooled over it, but I never thought he’d actually buy it. “David!” Tears filled my eyes, and I hugged him. “Thank you!”

  The dress deserved its own closet. It was my best color—deep blue, with gold sparkles on the bodice and around the knee-length hem. The sleeveless one shoulder design gave it a classy look, with just a touch of sex appeal. Cinched at the waist, the form-fitting top flowed out into a full pleated hoop skirt, borrowing a look from the 1950s. It was the perfect dress, and I looked forward to being David’s “rock ‘n’ roll princess” at the party.

  On the day of the party, Brooke and I enjoyed a day of pampering and prepping. Between hair and nail appointments and having our makeup done professionally, we felt like glamorous movie stars. The men cleaned up well, too, donning crisp black tuxedos—quite a change from the rocker uniform of jeans and T-shirts. I couldn’t help ogling my husband as we awaited the limo to transport us to the hotel. He, in turn, didn’t take his eyes off me.

  “You are quite a distraction, love. I don’t know that I’ll be able to leave your side ton
ight.” He leaned down and kissed my cheek. I flushed as butterflies circled inside. My hand instinctively went to my belly.

  He raised an eyebrow. “You okay?” he asked, putting his hand over mine.

  “Mm-hmm. Just looking forward to a fun party.”

  When the limo pulled up, we exchanged glances with Don and Brooke. It was probably the last time the four of us would leave together from this apartment building. In just a few short days, our closest friends would be turning in their keys and moving. Meanwhile, David and I were getting closer to our own move, having narrowed our choices to two townhomes.

  We arrived at the hotel and exited the limo under blinding camera flashes. David and I waved at the bursting crowd as we strode up the red carpet. He stopped to shake hands, yet kept a firm grasp around my waist. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he was in protective mode. This was our first big event as parents-to-be. Though news of my pregnancy hadn’t been broadcast yet, it was only a matter of time before it became obvious. For now, my tiny bump was well-hidden under the layers of taffeta.

  Heading into the large ballroom, we were met with gold and silver decorations and a roomful of poshly-dressed party goers. David breathed in deeply and let out a slow exhale, keeping his grip on me. He wasn’t a big fan of these parties, being an introvert. No doubt he much preferred a quiet night at home with me. I, however, loved parties and couldn’t wait to mingle with all the famous faces. Even though the band had reached its own fame, I still got star struck at these events, which were teaming with musicians, actors, and models.

  “Oh my, gosh, there’s Murray Sawyer from The Courgettes!” I whispered excitedly in David’s ear.

  He grimaced. “That tosser? Please stay away from him.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yep.”

  “Huh,” I said to myself. He must know something I don’t.

  As I pondered over how Murray had earned such a poor reputation, I noticed a balding, stout man watching us from a few feet away. His tumbler of clear liquid was half full, and his absent gaze at me over the glass gave me the creeps. I discretely eyed my cleavage to make sure everything was properly covered. Thankfully all was good, especially since the man was now making his way over to me and David.

  David nodded to him. “Evening, Patrick.”

  “Somers, nice to see you again.” He and David shook hands, before Patrick turned to me. “And this must be your lovely wife.” He looked me up and down, and the glint in his eyes made his eagerness transparent.

  David stiffened beside me. “Yes,” he said with a gruff voice, and proceeded to introduce us.

  “Beth, have you ever done any modeling?”

  “What?” I straightened up, flattered by the question. “No. Why?”

  “Musician’s Life magazine is doing a series on rock ‘n’ roll wives, and we’d love to do a feature article on you.” He stepped back and appraised my figure once again. “You’d look stunning on the cover.”

  “No, I don’t think so,” David piped in before I had a chance to answer.

  I cocked my head at my husband, annoyed at his assumption. “Oh, come on! I want to do it.” Casually touching my stomach, I turned to Patrick. “When would you need the shots?”

  He grinned. “Anytime, darling.”

  David, his face reddening, rubbed the back of his neck. “Beth, I’m not crazy about you doing this.”

  I waved a hand at him. “Oh, stop being so uptight. This would be an honor.”

  “Not now, Beth,” he stammered under his breath, his eyes roaming down to my stomach.

  “On the contrary, I think now would be perfect.” I narrowed my eyes at him.

  Patrick cleared his throat. “Clearly you two need to discuss this.” He started to hand me his card, but David brushed it away.

  “There’s nothing to discuss. She’s not doing a cover article. End of story.”

  I pursed my lips and growled, “Such a control freak.” I turned to Patrick. “Excuse me.” My insides shook in anger as I stalked away from David.

  “Beth!” David followed me and grabbed my elbow, but I yanked it away. “Please don’t walk away from me,” he said.

  Rounding on him, I hissed, “What’s your problem?” Then, lowering my voice, I continued, “I won’t be showing for another month.”

  “It’s not about that. I don’t want your picture all over the rags.”

  My shoulders drooped as heaviness overwhelmed me. “This isn’t fair. I want to enjoy life, and doing a photo shoot would be fun! Please don’t keep me locked away like a glass figurine.”

  He pressed his lips together and turned away for a moment. Facing me again, he wore a pained expression. “Aren’t you having fun tonight? You’re in a gorgeous dress, hair done up, at a fabulous hotel. Is this not enough for you?”

  “David, this is different. I’m just along for the ride. A magazine spread would be my own thing.”

  He shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I just…I’m not comfortable with it. Especially not now.”

  Tears stung my eyes. There was no point arguing with him, so I decided to let it rest. But my anger remained, so I held my breath and charged past him.

  “Beth…” he said, his voice fading.

  I spun around and whispered, “I need space from you right now.”

  He shrugged as he mouthed the words, “I’m sorry.”

  Hiding amongst a group of tall, lanky models, I peeked over my shoulder to find him staring at me with pleading in his eyes.

  “Oh, girl,” remarked Chrissy, a dark-skinned American beauty, as she placed her hand on her hip. “You’ve got that man bewitched.” She waved at him, muttering, “He’s definitely under your spell.”

  I exchanged a brief glance with him and felt a tingle down my spine. It was amazing that even after four years, the air between us could still feel magnetic. His probing gaze told me he wanted to make sure I was safe before going off to mingle. Wanting to ease his concern, I gave him a nod.

  It was easy slipping into conversation with the models, but I recalled a time I was intimidated by this group of women. Now they seemed to put me on a pedestal. I wasn’t sure why. I hadn’t done anything except marry a musician. They were the ones out there, making something of themselves. Sometimes I envied them. I longed for my own project, but with a baby on the way, I knew the opportunity would have to wait. For now, I was simply David Somers’ plus-one, his side-kick, and soon, the mother of his child.

  “Excuse me, Mrs. Somers?” a familiar voice sounded behind me. I stepped back from the cave of gorgeous women to find Patrick.

  “Oh, hi, Patrick. Sorry about all that earlier.”

  He waved his hand at me. “No worries.” He held out his card. “I just wanted to give you this. Perhaps you can change your husband’s mind. We’d really love to have you for a feature.”

  I scanned the room for David, and found him engrossed in conversation with another musician. Smiling at Patrick, I took the card and slipped it into my clutch. “I’ll talk to him. I’d love to do the article.”

  “Good, I hope to hear from you soon. Perhaps we can set something up after the New Year?”

  I nodded. Or earlier, I thought, rubbing my stomach. If I was going to do this, it needed to be soon.

  I checked my watch discretely, not wanting to be rude to Max, who was going on and on about his troubles finding a replacement drummer. I hadn’t run across Beth in a while, and I wanted make sure she was okay. 11:00. Early for the rock ‘n’ roll world, but I wondered if my expectant wife was getting tired.

  To my amusement, I spotted her near the sweets table eyeing a chocolate dessert. I grinned. That’s my woman. She looked from left to right, biting her lip as she picked up a plate. Her gaze fell on mine and she smirked, shrugging. At a break in the conversation, I excused myself from Max and strolled toward Beth.

  “Peckish?” I said, casting a glance at her slice of cake.

  She nodded. “I got sick earlier, and
now I’m starving.” She took a big bite of cake. “Yum.”

  My throat tightened. “You were sick?” I gently stroked her shoulder.

  “Ugh, yeah. I got a whiff of someone’s cologne and my stomach turned.”

  “You do look a bit pale. I think I should get you home, love.”

  “No,” she protested. “It’s way too early. I’m fine.”

  I grabbed my own slice of cake as I watched her enjoy hers. She adores her chocolate. I loved that she had a healthy appetite and didn’t pick at her food like other ladies I’d seen. Once she finished every bite—and almost licked her plate—I took it and set it aside. “Beth, I really want you off your feet.”

  “Oh, please, David. I’m not some damsel in distress.” She folded her arms across her chest. “I’m trying not to be a freak about this pregnancy, and you’re not helping.” She whispered the last sentence.

  “I guess I’m a freak then.”

  She grinned. “Well, at least you admit it.”

  I held out my hand to her. “Come on. Now you’ve finished your cake, let’s say our goodbyes.”

  Beth clutched my elbow and kissed my cheek. “You’re going to drive me crazy, Mr. Somers.”

  “Only because I love you.”

  She fell asleep in my arms on the ride home. I didn’t think she felt well, but this stubborn lady would never admit it to me. Plus, I think she was still cross with me about the rock wives article, but I didn’t care. There was no way I was handing her over to a photo-journalist so he could flash her face all over a national magazine. That would be like asking people to stalk her, right when I needed to protect her more than ever. Nobody would go near her on my watch, not ever.

  I kissed the top of her hair. “We’re almost home, sweet girl.”

  “Mmm…” she murmured, draping her arm around my waist. “I’m sorry I’m such a rag doll.”

  I stroked her cheek. “But you’re my rag doll.”

  “Still, this isn’t very sexy, flopping all over you like this, after an elegant evening.”