by Anne Carol
“Buffoon,” she mumbled, smirking at me.
Before I had a chance to respond, the crowd began moving. Afraid Beth would be caught in the stampede, I buffered her against the rush of bodies heading for the doors. If anything, this experience gave me a chance to appreciate what our fans went through to see one of our shows. Not the most pleasant experience. My wife, however, was glowing.
Once we entered the concert hall, she gave a little bounce and a squeal. I pinched her side, and she yelped. “Hey, what was that for?”
“You’re so adorable.”
“And desperately in need of the ladies’ room. Baby’s sitting right on my bladder.”
“I’ll give him a stern talking-to.”
After the long wait at the loo, Beth finally surfaced and was ready to take a seat. We made our way through the swarms of fans—some in hysterics—to our seats, ten rows back and to the far left. I probably could have procured better seats, but there was no way I wanted Beth in the front. Besides the pushing, shoving, and screaming, other things went on in front I did not want to subject my wife to, and not because she was naïve. The panties and bras which landed on stage every night were evidence enough of the lewd behavior that often took place. Many rock stars thrived on that rubbish, but I’d seen enough of that to last me a lifetime. I only had eyes for one woman.
Beth sat down as soon as we found our seats. End of the row, thank goodness. Her eyelids flickered closed and open, and she massaged the back of her neck. I squeezed her other hand and asked again how she was feeling
“How many times are you going to ask me that?” she asked with a clip.
I started rubbing her shoulders, wanted to ease her discomfort. “Sorry, you just looked a bit throttled, that’s all.”
Sighing, she patted my arm. “Sorry. The bathroom scene was a little much, that’s all. That line was insane.”
“I figured.” I caressed her cheek with the back of my finger. “I just want to make sure you’re feeling well. It’s my job to take care of you.”
“I know, and you’re doing a great one.” She grabbed my hand. “And thanks again for getting these tickets.”
“You’re welcome.” I draped my arm over her shoulder and pulled her closer as we waited for the opening act.
By the time the opening act had finished, and the stage was being set up for the main show, Beth was showing signs of wear and tear: yawning, slouching against me, and staring blankly at the stage, like she was a million miles away. She’d never admit it, though, and I wasn’t about to ask her (again) how she was feeling.
All around us, girls were screaming, crying, and begging for Duran Duran to take the stage. I was amazed at the drama they created, and actually felt sorry for the venue staff. A few distraught girls had to be led out of their seats. I’d been to many concerts as a fan, but I couldn’t recall seeing anything like this. Yes, I’d seen some loony behavior back in my punk days, but this hysteria made me uneasy.
Finally, the lights went down, and Beth perked up. “Oh my, gosh. Oh my, gosh…” Beth squealed. She jumped up from her seat and bounced up and down, clapping her hands.
I put a hand on her stomach. I hope you’re enjoying this, Baby Somers.
As the instrumental, “Tiger, Tiger” concluded, the stage lit up, and the band appeared, jumping into the hit song, “Is There Something I Should Know?” Beth screamed, along with all the other ladies in the building. Ten thousand women, all screaming at the same time. Good grief, is this how it is at our concerts? Sitting in the audience gave me such a different perspective.
The people in the first several rows were all reaching out toward the stage, and in the process, smothering their fellow concert-goers. After each song, I saw a few more girls being plucked out of the mayhem and carried away by security. The air was toasty, and I noticed perspiration dripping down Beth’s face. The too-warm environment didn’t appear to steal her enjoyment, but every few minutes she had to sit down. I kept a steady gaze on her, and more than a few times I almost asked how she was feeling, only to keep silent.
Sometime in the middle of “New Religion,” Beth rose to her feet and wavered so much I had to hold her steady. When she closed her eyes and fell limply against me, I acted fast, sweeping her off her feet and cradling her. Whoa. The baby sure added weight I wasn’t expecting, so I relied on my adrenaline. God, help me.
Ignoring the stares around me, as well as a few offers for help, I clutched Beth tightly against me and started carrying her up the long aisle. She pushed against me, crying, “No, no! Take me back, please.”
“Shh…You’re not well,” I said firmly.
“David…” she mumbled weakly, but then let her head fall against my shoulder. My heart dropped into my stomach. I was out-of-my-mind worried over her weakened state. Did she need medical care? Please, God. Help her.
Out in the corridor, one of the staff helped me lower her to the floor. There were about a dozen other girls slumped against the wall, sipping water and being fanned down. They all looked bedraggled, as did my wife. When she shifted, her wig slipped off-center, so I knelt down and discretely straightened it. Soon a staff member came round and gave her a glass of water and asked her how she felt.
“Hmm…just hot and a little dizzy.” Her voice wavered.
He waved a fan in front of her, and she sighed. “Ah, much better. Thank you.”
“Are you sure you don’t need a medic, miss? We can call someone.”
“No! I mean, that’s not necessary.” She glanced at me nervously. “We’re going back to our seats, right David?”
Heck, no. She was still too pale and weak. If I took her back, she’d surely pass out. Hesitating a moment, I shook my head.
“David!” Beth shouted, alerting the other girls, who were now looking me up and down. One girl whispered to the others, “Is that David Somers from Vinyl Fog?” I cringed as the lot of them starting whispering excitedly, their low voices growing with each passing second. Heaven, help us.
Wanting to avoid the inevitable mayhem, I bent down to Beth and whispered in a hush, “We need to go. Do not make a scene.”
She glanced at the other girls, and soon, understanding came to her eyes. With a frown, she gripped her forehead. Her eyes filled with tears, but she held them back. Nodding slowly, she reached her hands up for me.
The girls watched with dazed expressions as I helped Beth to her feet. I smiled and waved at them as I put my arm around my wife and led her to the exit. “Quit flirting, Prince Charming,” she huffed, slapping my bum.
I stifled a chuckle, pecked her cheek, and kept silent as we headed out the door.
On the taxi ride to our hotel, Beth wept quietly, with her back turned to me. My insides ached, watching her. She was so angry she wouldn’t even let me hold her.
When we arrived at the hotel, she stalked in front of me, but I jogged to catch up with her. She shooed me away, so I walked a foot behind her, praying for the right words to say.
In the hotel room, I let her stew quietly for as long as I could stand it, and then I spoke up. “Beth, I’m sorry, but I had to get you out of there.” She still looked weary, and I wanted her to lie down.
“I know. Me and my big mouth. All I wanted was one night out like a normal person without being recognized.”
Goodness, how this woman frustrated me. “You’re not understanding me. If nobody had recognized me, I still would’ve brought you back here. You weren’t well.”
She slammed her hand on the nightstand, startling me, and swore. “Stop treating me like a porcelain doll! All I needed was a little cooling off and some water. I would’ve been fine.”
“I don’t want to argue with you, but you were nearing collapse. You can’t be careless with your health, angel. Our baby is depending on you. A concert is not worth it. There’ll be others.”
She buried her head in the pillow and sniffled. “I know. I’m just disappointed. I was hoping to hear ‘Save a Prayer.’ It’s my favorite song of theirs.”
She sat up and wiped her eyes. “It’s selfish of me, I’ll admit.”
“My girl,” I said, blowing out a long breath. No words came to me, because I couldn’t blame her. There was only one way to soften the blow. “Look, I’m no Simon Le Bon, but I’ll try.” Taking her hands in mine, I sat on the bed and began humming the tune to “Save a Prayer.”
She quieted down and turned her tear-drenched face toward me. Stroking her fingers, I sang to her, praying I’d remember the words.
Beth relaxed against the pillow and began singing softly with me. My breath caught at the connection I felt with her. Our voices blended perfectly. Just like our souls. The moisture in my eyes surprised me, and I blinked a few times.
“Thank you,” she murmured, drawing attention away from my thoughts. “I love hearing your voice.”
“Yours isn’t so bad, either. We sound good together.” I squeezed her hands for emphasis.
She laughed: a welcome sound. “Yeah, we should do that more often. I like singing with you.” My heart agreed as it swelled in my chest.
“Can I hold you?”
“Of course.” Her grin made my insides vibrate with need.
I let go of her hands and gently wrapped my arms around her, sliding one hand down to rest on her stomach. “How did you like the duet, baby?”
“He’s moving a lot. Press harder, and you can feel.” When I hesitated, she pushed my hand down, and I immediately felt movement.
“Oh, wow. He must’ve liked our song.”
“He was squirming a lot during the concert, too. He’s just a musical baby.”
“What a shocker.”
She snuggled into me. “I love sharing this time with you. I’ve never felt closer than in this moment.” Before I could say anything, she set her palms on my stubbly face and caressed my skin. “This is just the beginning, David.” Her voice wrapped around me, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
I kissed the top of her head, feeling dizzy by the wave of electricity in the air. “Yes. We have so much ahead of us. ”
“And I get to spend my life with you. God has blessed me more than I can comprehend.” Her hands moved from my face to my neck, where she rubbed the tension out of my taut muscles. I closed my eyes and lavished in the sensation of her touch. “I’m sorry I was so angry tonight. I—”
“Shh…shh,” I whispered, putting my finger to her lips. “I’m sure you can make it up to me somehow.”
She giggled, as I tugged her down alongside me.
The concert may have been a disappointment, but Beth had no idea what we had planned for her the next morning.
I was still shaking two days later. I couldn’t get over it.
After the disastrous Duran Duran concert, which ended for me after only five songs, I’d been a jerk all night. Looking back, I felt foolish for my bratty behavior, but thankfully David was a patient man. My husband had shown me a lot of grace that night. And once I’d gotten past my moodiness, we ended up having a wonderful time together. With his tender touch, Duran Duran easily slipped from my thoughts.
The next morning David was up before me, and he instructed me to dress in something “cute.” As I raised an eyebrow, he said, “Trust me.” Whatever, I’d thought. I put on my favorite blue wrap dress, which was surprisingly flattering and comfortable on my expanding body. Though I still had bags under my eyes from the night before, I made up my face as best I could. A few twirls of the curling iron and I was happy with the mirror’s reflection.
We snuck out the back exit, where the limo was waiting. The other guys were already inside. Trevor was sacked out, Pete was sipping what smelled like strong coffee, Dietrich was reading a music magazine, and Martin was attached to his beloved Walkman. As soon as I grabbed the seat beside him, he removed his headphones. “So how was it?” Martin was just as big a fan of Duran Duran as I was, having seen a few of their earlier shows in England. I grimaced as David explained what happened.
“Bugger,” he said. “How are you getting on this morning?” He looked at me.
“I’m much better. Just got overheated last night. It was packed in there.”
“Hopefully you can see them another time.”
I leaned my head on David’s shoulder. “I doubt I’ll have the chance.”
Martin and David exchanged a glance, Trevor snickered, and Pete opened his mouth to say something, but quickly shut it when David held up his hand.
“What’s going on? You guys are acting weird,” I asked, sitting up and scanning everyone’s blank faces.
David put his arm around me. “Trust me.”
“That wasn’t really an answer.”
“Shh, relax.”
I tried to, but Trevor’s smirk made me nervous.
Pretty soon, butterflies were fluttering in my stomach. Either that or Baby Somers was dancing “The Sugar Plum Fairy” inside me. Instinctively I cupped my belly, where David’s hand soon joined mine.
“Is my baby moving?” he whispered.
“I don’t think so. It’s just nerves.”
“You really don’t like surprises, do you?”
I shook my head, and he sighed. “Sweet girl, you will be thanking me for this one.”
Finally, the limo pulled up in front of a radio station, where hundreds of girls lined the perimeter of the building. The deafening sound of screams had me covering my ears and clinging to David.
“Oh. My. Gosh. This is the surprise? A bunch of groupies and a radio interview?” My heart was pounding at the sight of all these fans, but I breathed a sigh of relief when I noticed the metal gate holding them back.
“Come on, Beth,” David sing-songed as he helped me out of the limo. Once I was on my feet, security guards rushed us through the side door. Everyone made it in except Trevor, who was busy signing autographs and kissing girls’ cheeks. When he finally joined us, I noticed a lipstick stain on his left temple.
“Nice,” I commented, gesturing to the red mark.
He grinned. “Jealous?”
When I turned away with an eye roll, he slid his arm around my neck and gave me a sloppy kiss on my cheek. “Trevor!”
David whipped around and lunged at Trevor, who merely held up his hands. “No harm, no foul,” he said, cocky as ever.
“Come on, mates,” Pete called out. “No time for a row.”
Protected under David’s arm, we were ushered down a dingy hallway and turned a corner to find a group of what looked like security guards and reporters. I was still trying to figure out what the big surprise was when I caught sight of…
“Oh my, gosh!” I clapped my hand over my mouth. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
Tiptoeing up to a window, I peered inside and saw all five members of Duran Duran sitting around in chairs, wearing headphones. “Holy sh—”
“You like?” David interrupted me.
Jaw dropped, I whispered, “H-How did you pull this off?”
“Let’s just say it helps to have connections.” He winked.
My breath caught, and I had to lean on David for support. “This is…this is amazing.”
“Martin’s been dying to meet them, too.”
I gripped his leather jacket. “Whoa, we get to meet them? Stop it!” I erupted into a fit of nervous giggles.
“Did you really think I’d bring you this close to them, and not meet them? You know me better than that.”
Grabbing his arm and ducking my head into his shoulder, I muttered, “I’m going to make a total fool of myself.” I swallowed hard, trying to bring moisture back to my suddenly dry mouth. “And…” I really have to pee. That need came out of nowhere, but I wasn’t surprised. It was now a daily, sometimes hourly, occurrence, with the baby getting heavier. I groaned inwardly. Why now?
“Beth, you’ll be fine.” David patted my hand. “We’re about to go in.”
Squeezing my legs together, I said a silent prayer for strength—and bladder control— and waited for the signal to go inside and meet the members
of one of my favorite bands.
We all watched the conclusion of the band’s interview, and once the five men took off their headsets, David gently nudged me forward. “It’s time.”
Martin and I exchanged wobbly smiles. “I don’t know about you, but I can’t breathe,” he said in a low voice.
“Neither can I.” I put my hand on my chest and inhaled deeply.
Words couldn’t describe what went through my mind when I shook John’s hand. He was my favorite. My voice came out like a squeak, but at least I had a voice. “Such an honor to meet you.”
“Likewise. I wish you all the best for your baby,” he said glancing at my round belly.
“Thank you!” My face grew hot, and I discretely fanned myself.
Beside me, Martin was fumbling over his greeting with Nick, Duran Duran’s keyboardist. He gushed, “You create magic with those synthesizers. I’m in awe.”
Nick smiled and said, “Why, thank you. You’re not so bad yourself. We’ll have to stay in contact so we can compare notes once in a while.”
I loved Martin’s reaction—his face lit up, and his eyes widened. He was in paradise. “Pretty cool,” I whispered to him, before greeting the remaining band members. They each had their unique personalities (not unlike Vinyl Fog’s members), but all were warm and friendly.
While I stood by, observing the men chatting about touring and fan antics, I tried to ignore the baby’s weight on my bladder, though I squirmed a bit. David looked at me funny and whispered, “What’s with the dance moves?”
“I have to pee,” I said between my teeth.
He chuckled loudly, drawing everyone’s attention. “Let’s get you taken care of,” he said, pointing toward the door to the hallway.
I elbowed him and whispered, “Shh, I can hold out for a few more minutes.”
Those few minutes paid off as we landed backstage passes for a future concert. That was after David blabbed about our failed concert experience, making me wish I could sink into the floor. But the embarrassment was well worth it for the passes. And David promised we’d try for another show later that month. “With these, we can watch comfortably from backstage. How does that sound, love?”