by Anne Carol
“Not a bad idea.”
“Yeah, I’m going to start looking. What about you?”
“I haven’t given it much thought. I suppose I should.”
“What about your cousin?”
I frowned. “She’s finishing up her last year of university. I don’t know.”
“You’ll want someone you can trust with your kids and your husband. Frankly, I’ll be looking for an older lady. I don’t need a cute little thing around Don all the time. These guys are surrounded enough by floozies. I don’t need one in my home.”
I paused for a moment. “You two getting along these days?” The bitterness in her tone put me on alert.
She hesitated. “Yeah, you know…marriage is a challenge sometimes, especially with a wee one, as you’ll soon discover.”
“Thanks for the heads-up,” I said sardonically.
“Sorry, I’m just being honest. It takes a bit more work with a crying, needy baby around, that’s all.”
We chatted a little more about motherhood and what to expect. Between her negative comments and the sheer facts, I was starting to wonder if I was ready for this. What will David be like as a father? Don was a wonderful husband and father, in spite of Brooke’s comment. I could only imagine that David would be a great dad. He’d been looking forward to this for so long. The past year had brought us to the brink of hell and back, and we were both better for it. We’d had no choice but to grow up, and with God’s help, we were becoming like new people. Having a baby would only push us to a whole new level of maturity.
With Brooke and Emma staying back, it was lonely on the road. I mostly kept to myself, reading up on baby care and journaling. Besides David, there was nobody to talk to. Martin was between girlfriends again, and I still hadn’t been able to connect with Pete’s fiancé. There was something about her I didn’t like. Trevor, meanwhile, had a different girl every night, it seemed. His view of women as objects of pleasure disgusted me, and I wondered how he’d arrived at such poor values. Sometimes I prayed for all three of these lost men.
The extra weight I carried made me tire easily, so when I wasn’t reading or journaling, I slept. Plus, with everything Brooke had told me about newborns, I thought it best to stock up on sleep. Of course, my increased sleep needs didn’t go unnoticed by David, and he worried that I wasn’t well. I had to assure him I was just resting up for the great adventure ahead of us.
My pregnancy was a great excuse for David to leave parties early. He still struggled with cravings when he was around alcohol, so he preferred to just pop in, chat a little, and then quietly duck out. Hotel rooms were our home away from home. We no longer stayed overnight on the bus. I was glad because sleeping on a bus bunk while not pregnant was pretty uncomfortable. I couldn’t imagine doing it while pregnant.
The hotel room stays allowed us time alone so we could keep our romance alive and well. Sometimes that meant watching a movie together while I fed one of my strange cravings, and sometimes it meant physical intimacy. David found my changed body irresistible, and though I found that fact hard to believe, he proved it to me as often as possible.
David also lavished our unborn child with attention, talking and singing to my belly. “I want our baby to recognize my voice,” he explained, not that he needed to. I loved that he craved a bond with his baby. Another hint David would make a great father.
While our nights were for us, daytime was packed with activity. In mid-March, I got to witness a record store appearance for the first time. Five minutes in, I wished I’d stayed on the bus. The scene was complete chaos—hundreds of squealing girls packed into a small space. My nerves grew raw, so I sat off to the side with my eyes glued to a book to try and drown out the madness.
My ears perked up, however, when I overheard a girl mention Duran Duran’s big North American tour. I’d discovered Duran Duran a few years back and was now one of their biggest fans, but because of our crazy schedule, I had yet to see them in concert. I listened in as the girls named off some tour dates coming up. Oh my goodness, they aren’t too far from us! I shifted in my seat, unable to keep still. From that point on, I was on a mission.
As we lay in bed that night, I tried not to get overly excited when I brought up the subject with David. He took one glance at my huge belly and cocked his head. “Even if we could find a night, are you really up for something like that? Their crowds are ten times bigger—and likely more aggressive—than ours.”
“I can handle it, David. Please. I’ve been wanting to see them forever.”
“Should I be worried? Which one do you fancy?” he kidded.
I laughed. “Come on, it’s not like that.” I reached up and kissed him. “Nobody could hold a candle to you.”
“Good to know. Hmm…let me see what I can do. No promises, though.”
“Oh!” I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed him. “Thank you!”
The prospect of attending a concert like a regular fan thrilled me to no end. I was dying to get out into the world and have some fun—just for me. David, bless his heart, treated me like a tattered doll about to come apart at the seams. His doting got to be too much sometimes. He didn’t seem to understand that women were designed to carry babies and still go on with their lives. My great-grandma had worked the farm and tended to animals up until the day she had her babies—seven in a row, no less! So if he thought my condition would keep me from seeing my favorite band in concert, he was sorely mistaken.
Duran Duran stayed on my mind for days, with no word from David on tickets. I was starting to lose hope. If it’s meant to be, it’ll happen, I kept telling myself. In the meantime, I enjoyed supporting my own music man as Vinyl Fog’s tour continued. I loved watching David warm up and tune his “axes” as he called his collection of guitars. He always got this serious expression on his face and sometimes would bite his lip absentmindedly. His concentration impressed me which is why he surprised me one night by pausing between guitars.
“Beth,” he said, patting his front pocket. “I’ve got something for you.”
Quirking my brow, I said, “You want me to sit on your lap?”
He grinned and shook his head. Approaching me, he reached into his pocket and handed me two tickets. “What d’you think?”
My jaw dropped. Duran Duran. I would get to see Duran Duran in Virginia next week. Forgetting about my big belly, I jumped to my feet and bounced up and down—squealing so loud David had to cover his ears.
“Careful, Beth.”
“Thank you, thank you!!” I hugged him tightly but backed up when I felt a sizable flutter in my lower half. “Oh! I’ve got a Duran Duran fan in here!” I lay my hand over my stomach.
“He’s moving?” David asked, placing his hand next to mine. “Wow!” He knelt down in front of me. “Hi, baby, Daddy’s getting ready to go on stage. Can you be good for Mummy? Someday you can help me tune guitars, won’t that be fun?”
More flutters. “He hears you,” I said, sifting my fingers through David’s hair. We both laughed, overjoyed that our baby was, in a way, speaking to us. I’d felt movement before, but nothing like this.
“I can hardly wait to see him,” David breathed, still bracing my stomach.
The clock was ticking, and I had to remind my husband he had things to do, but it was hard breaking him from this moment. It was a precious gift.
David’s excitement carried over to his performance that night. He lit up the entire stage. He got the audience going as he danced around and jammed wildly on his guitar. Every once in a while, he’d turn to the side stage and shoot me smoldering glances. This was our typical routine. It was important to him that I watched the show from my “special spot.” He said it always comforted him to know I was there, supporting him.
We lounged backstage for a while after the show. Being the resident pregnant lady, I’d claimed the couch, where David was currently rubbing my swollen feet. He smelled fresh and clean, having just showered and donned fresh clothes. My fingers naturally wand
ered to his damp hair, which flopped lazily across his forehead. “I should be rubbing your feet. You’re the one who just finished a ninety-minute stage performance,” I said.
“I like taking care of you, angel.” He winked at me, just before his gaze drifted to something, or someone, behind me. When he muttered a curse word, I turned around to see two young girls standing on the threshold. Groupies.
I clenched my teeth. These groupies always seemed to find a way to barge in backstage. I was about to let into them, but something stopped me when I took a good look at one of the girls. My heart suddenly ached for her. She seemed lost, even afraid. With a gorgeous head of long, dark hair, pink highlights, and heavy black makeup, she looked no older than eighteen, if that. There were rules discouraging rock stars from hooking up with minors, and many young girls lied about their age just to have a chance to be with their favorite musician.
“I’m sorry, but you girls need to leave,” David said, annoyance tinging his voice.
Trevor, who was nearby smoking a cigarette, scowled at David and stalked over to the young girl, draping his arm around her. “Ah, come on mate, they can stay.”
I glared at Trevor, as the girl kept her head down, not acknowledging Trevor’s advances. My protective instincts were bubbling to the surface. “Trevor…” I scolded softly.
Her friend, who looked like she’d been around the block a few times, grabbed Trevor’s bicep and smiled up at him. It didn’t take a second for him to divert his attention to the blonde-haired girl. Trevor’s eyes widened as he looked her up and down—her black bra was exposed under a loose-fitting tank top which ended just shy of her navel, and her bottom half was barely covered by tight cut-off jeans. She practically screamed, “I’m available.” It made me sad. Meanwhile, her droopy-faced friend seemed to have one foot out the door. Poor thing. How did she get here?
Trevor wasted no time, taking her friend’s hand and pulling her out of the room. The dark haired girl’s jaw dropped as her gaze followed them out the door. My heart again broke for her, yet I suspected she was no stranger to this situation.
“Hey,” I found myself saying, summoning the young girl. “Why don’t you come join us?” She met my glance and ambled over.
She didn’t offer a greeting, just watched David rub my feet. Perhaps she had a crush on my husband and was tongue-tied. I knew the feeling.
“When is your baby due?” she asked timidly.
“June.” I rested my hands on my tummy and smiled at her. “I’ve got a few months to go.”
Her lips quivered and then lifted to display a half-smile. She opened her mouth to say something, but then quickly shut it. Redness rimmed her eyes, and the glassiness gave away her impending tears.
“What is it?” I asked, feeling tight in my chest.
She stared down at her feet and whispered, “I…I miss my baby.”
What? “You have a baby? How old?” She was a child herself.
“He’s seven months.” Tears now dripped down her face, and she wiped them away feverishly.
“Where is he?” asked David.
She choked out a sob. “He’s with my parents. I haven’t seen him in so long.”
My limbs grew cold at her statement. God, give me the right words to say. “Why aren’t you home with him?” I asked, kicking myself for being abrupt. Please, God. Help me.
“Because he’s better off without me.”
“Do you really believe that? There’s no such thing as a perfect mother.”
“I’m only eighteen.” She wept, gaining the attention of the other band members and crew.
“Honey, grab that chair and come closer.” The girl scooted a folding chair next to the couch and sat down. She drew her body in tightly and stared down at her clasped hands. “I want to share something with you,” I said. “I was eighteen when I first got pregnant, but we lost him at twelve weeks. I’d give anything to have him here with me, so I can’t understand why you wouldn’t want to be with your son. What’s your name?”
“Chelsea.”
“Where are you from, Chelsea?”
“Northern California. It’s a small town called Vine Grove.”
I gaped at her. “You’re kidding me. That’s a town over from where I grew up. My parents still live there.” I exchanged looks with David. “What are the odds?” He raised his eyebrows at me.
“You’re from Garden Valley?” Chelsea asked. I nodded. “I can’t believe it!” she exclaimed. “How did you and David meet?”
“I’ll give you the story, but first, let me ask you this. If we can arrange a flight for you, would you like to go home to your baby?” I didn’t know where all this boldness was coming from, but it poured out of me just the same. It was God’s prompting, no doubt.
She paused for a moment, and another tear dropped down her cheek. “Yes,” she finally said. Wiping her face, she whispered. “That would be wonderful. I miss him so much.”
I smiled and patted her arm. “I’ll bet you do. We’re going to help you get home to him.” I turned to David. “Would you mind working out the details?”
“Sure,” he said warmly.
While he left to go talk to Morris, I told Chelsea the story of how David and I came together. Once I finished, I asked about her, praying God would show me how I could help this girl. It turned out her big passion was photography—a hobby she’d let go after she’d gotten tangled up in the wrong crowd in high school. Photography? Could it be that easy? I thought about Rick and his camera shop and photography business.
“I have an old friend who owns a photography business in Garden Valley,” I said, and her eyes glowed. “Would you mind if I called him and told him about you?”
“Really? You’d do that for me?”
“Of course. Everybody needs a chance to do what they love, right?”
She broke down in tears again. “Thank you so much. For everything.” Just then David walked back over. “You had every right to kick Marcy and me out, and I wouldn’t have blamed you. Can’t believe you went through all this trouble for me.”
David nudged my shoulder. “The tickets are taken care of.” He looked at Chelsea. “You’ll leave tonight. Do you have someone you can call to pick you up on the other end? We can make sure you get to the airport.”
She sighed. “I can call my parents, I guess.”
“You’ll be fine. I’m praying.” I gave her a hug. “What about Marcy?”
Chelsea shrugged. “I doubt she’ll want to leave. Her home life isn’t great.”
“I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do?”
“Pray. She seems content with this life.” Her body sagged and she shook her head. “But it’s not for me anymore.”
It shouldn’t be for anyone, I thought but glued my lips shut while I said a silent prayer for Marcy to find a way out of this lifestyle. I’d been a witness to too many needy, lost girls. Watching the destruction of their lives was one of the hardest things about being a rock star’s wife. Now that I was about to become a mother, the despair only grew worse.
I felt weighed down by emotions as I strode out to the tour bus, hand-in-hand with David. We’d just put Chelsea in a cab, and she was on her way to the airport, where hopefully she’d board a plane to California tonight. Thankfully she gave us her parents’ address and phone number so I could follow up with her after contacting Rick about a possible job.
Marcy ended up leaving with another group of girls, but not without saying some harsh things to Chelsea. This was after Trevor snubbed Marcy when she approached him one last time. From her droopy posture, I gathered she was upset, but he’d gotten what he wanted, so she was no longer of use to him. I could never understand his heartlessness. God, be with her.
Once we were on the bus, I snuggled up to David and shoved past the ugly thoughts by thinking of something good.
Duran Duran. I can’t wait!
I held a firm arm around Beth as we joined the bursting crowd of mostly young women waiting to get inside the c
oncert hall. My heart thundered beneath my leather jacket at the sight of so many women crawling out of their skin to see these five musicians. I’d seen crowds get crazy at our shows, but this…
This was a whole new level of fanaticism.
It was scary and, in my opinion, no place for a pregnant woman entering her third trimester, especially when she was accompanied by someone who could easily be recognized and mauled by fans. What was I thinking? Duran Duran and Vinyl Fog shared many of the same fans, and it would only take a hard glance at me for someone to figure out my identity.
But they were in too much of a frenzy over Duran Duran to realize another rock star was in their midst. Still, I prayed we’d stay under the radar. Beth was so excited, and as much as I had reservations about taking her, I wanted to give her a special night out. I loved seeing her happy and acting like her old self. Aside from her pregnant belly, she looked just like the seventeen-year-old girl I fell in love with. Wearing the biggest grin, she kept kissing me and saying, “Thank you.” How could I not enjoy the pleasure of taking her to see one of her favorite bands?
I dipped my head and kissed her cheek. “How are you?”
“I’m okay. More than okay.” Reaching up to touch my hair, she quickly pulled away. “Oops, almost blew it,” she whispered, snapping her fingers. “I was going to run my hand through your hair, but then I remembered you were wearing a blond wig.” She giggled.
“And how do you fancy me as a blond?” I said in a low voice.
“Hmm…I like you better with dark hair.”
“Good to know. Personally, I think you’re stunning as a raven beauty.” I smoothed down her dark wavy locks. “Something about blue eyes with dark hair. Perhaps you should dye it.”
She gave me a slight shove, along with a pouty look. “Seriously? What’s wrong with my blonde hair?”
I held up my hands. “I was only teasing you.” Wanting her close, I bundled her in my arms and drew her to me. “I’d love you with any color hair, sweet girl.” A kiss to her forehead followed my honest statement.