by Cynthia Dane
“I definitely need to talk to you about paternity.” Rick finished his drink and tapped his nails against the empty glass. “Not about Fiona’s baby’s. Mine.”
Even though it was dark in the apartment, the moonlight cast a pale shadow on Thomas’s already wrinkly face. He became even paler after Rick’s words. I was afraid of that. If Thomas had nothing to do with anything, he would simply be confused, maybe wondering if Rick was drunk and under some sort of delusion that Thomas had all the answers to the universe. But that look… that was a look that said Thomas was privy to more information than Rick ever understood. “And why would you call me over for something like that?” Thomas crossed his arms, defensively. “Something you want to tell me?”
“More like is there something you want to tell me?” Rick wanted to get up, but the news and the drink made him lethargic. Better to stay on the bed before he got himself in trouble. “You know who my father is, don’t you?”
Thomas didn’t say anything for a while. His hat continued to tap against his fingers. Breath shot from his nostrils. His skin paled to new levels. In a matter of seconds, Thomas aged at least ten more years. “Perhaps I do. Where did you hear that?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Hearing any sort of confirmation only made Rick more eager to get answers out of his manager. “What do you know? Who is my father? Why in the world would you know before me? We never even met before two years ago!”
“That’s true. We didn’t meet until then. Only what you never know is that I went looking for you. I didn’t come across you by chance.”
Rick always attributed lady luck for sending Thomas his way that fateful day. The day I decided to try busking in the street with my guitar. “You said that you heard about me from somebody who saw one of my street performances. Isn’t that why you came out to see me?”
“It was a half-truth. I did indeed hear about you from somebody, but that was only so I knew where you were. Before that, I certainly didn’t know about your existence. Not until a little while ago, no, but I knew who you were shortly before the day I came and got you.”
“Increíble,” Rick muttered into his empty glass. He wanted to laugh. The thought swimming in his mind seemed too absurd to be real. What were the odds? Why had he never seen it before? Was he so deluded that he couldn’t fathom the possibilities? I’m an idiot. I should have realized that the moment he approached me on the street. The eyebrows. The chin. The stupid Portuguese and Japanese and God knew what else. A picture of a man named Tomás hanging in his mother’s dance studio. “You’re my father.”
Thomas didn’t deny it. How could he, when Rick had him so good? That was when Rick realized that his impatience, his brash behavior, and his need to entertain others came solely from his mother. Those sorts of things were matrilineal, right?
“And you were never going to tell me… that’s rich.”
“You have to understand…”
“Understand what, exactly? That this whole time you’ve been the man missing from my childhood? What the hell did you do to my mother that she never wanted to talk to you?”
“I have no idea. We broke up before I even heard about her being pregnant. I didn’t know you existed until shortly before we met.” Thomas laughed. He didn’t laugh often, but when he did, it certainly got Rick’s attention. This man is crazy. He wondered if that was genetic.
“So you found out I was alive, and then decided to find me?”
“Not quite like that. It’s a sheer stroke of luck that I was in this business already. When I found out that you had followed in your mother’s footsteps, I figured I had an excuse to come see you. So when one of my colleagues talked about a young man fitting your description in the neighborhood I used to hang out in, well, I took a chance. I know that there are a lot of Rodriguezes out there, but your mother always had a love affair with the name Ricardo.”
“Sheesh. Why the hell didn’t you tell me that you were my father?”
“And how would that have gone over? You wouldn’t have believed me. I was better off dropping my current clients and taking you under my wing. I knew you had the talent to make it, and I was right. And do you know how hard it has been to show you how proud I am? I can’t go back in time and be there during your childhood. If I had known about you back then, I would have made the effort. For whatever reason, Angelina didn’t want me knowing about you. I never hurt her. I never made it sound like I detest children and want nothing to do with them. I think she made the decision to do it on her own, and that was how it was.”
“She was stubborn like that.”
Thomas put his hat on. “So are you. Now, I think it’s best if I leave for a while. You’ve got a lot to think about. I’ll be around if you need me, but I recommend you take the rest of the weekend to relax. There’s a lot on your mind.”
“This is weird. This is really weird.”
“That’s what I was talking about. You’re still in shock right now. On Monday we’ll talk more if you want. Goodness knows I need to go sort things out first.”
He turned to leave, and Rick was going to let him. Why should our relationship be any different? It was a cynical thought, but not practical. No, practical would be him saying, “So you may be a grandfather soon.”
Thomas stopped halfway toward the front door. “Perhaps. I would hazard a guess, though, that you becoming a father right now is bigger news than me becoming a grandfather.”
“What about when you found out that you were a father?”
“That was a bit different. You were already grown by then. Good night.” No hugs, no pat on the back. Definitely no kiss on the cheek. When Thomas left, it was as if their relationship was as it always had been before. For now, that suited Rick fine. Thomas was right when he said that his son had a lot on his mind. His son. Rick needed to go to bed… first he would get a harder drink.
Sweat pouring down her forehead, Olivia answered her phone before one of the pranksters in her troupe could get their hands on it. What if it’s Rick? Sure enough, the letter “R” flashed on the screen, accompanied with a picture of that gorgeous scenery in Brazil that Olivia stared at while she and her boyfriend made love.
“You were right,” Rick said, his voice heavy. Behind Olivia, two young men sneaked up on an unwitting young woman and startled her with a chorus of “boo!” echoing from their chests. The girl shrieked before chasing down both guys with the end of her sweatshirt. I work with children. How Olivia came to be one of their promotional faces and stars was beyond her. Oh, right, I danced with this jerk. The same one grumbling into her ear. “Thomas knew everything. Apparently the bastard is actually my father.”
Oh thank God. Olivia couldn’t take hiding it from Rick any longer. Yet keeping it from him as long as she had seemed cruel. Rick had a right to know that Thomas was his father, but like hell she was going to be the one to tell him! Then there was the fact that Rick would wonder how she knew… more like how had he never noticed? If Olivia, a total outsider, could figure it out after a few months…
“That’s incredible.” What else was she supposed to say? “What now?”
“Shit I don’t know! I don’t even have time to think about the fact that my manager has been my father this whole time. I have that award show this weekend.”
Someone called for Olivia, but she remained glued to her phone in the corner. “Just a sec!’ she called over her shoulder. “Right. The award show. When is it again? I want to make sure I tune in. Not that my sister will let me forget.”
“Forget tuning in. I want you to come and be my backstage guest.”
“Why’s that?’ Olivia wouldn’t be able to ignore Linda’s calls for long. “You can do that?”
“Yes. Friday night. I’ll text you the details later. It’s really important that you come.”
“Why?”
“Hey, trust me okay? I really need you there.”
Need me? Olivia would laugh if Rick hadn’t sounded so earnest. “All right. I’ll do what I ca
n. Look, I’ve gotta go, before they start dragging me off by my hair.”
“Awesome. Love you.”
Rick hung up before Olivia had the chance to process Rick’s declaration. Had he ever said he loved her without any prompting? Olivia put her phone back in her duffel bag before trotting to dance practice. She barely had her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail when Linda admonished her for caring more about her boyfriend than the practice. Nobody thought she meant Dan.
8
This was Rick’s first award show, and he hoped it would also be the last.
He was under the impression that this was a poorly planned event. Stage assistants ran around the dressing room area, nobody paid attention, and it seemed that everybody was in some sort of panic. It was forty-five minutes until they were live on national TV. Why wasn’t anyone in their places? Where was the first presenter? Why was the biggest guest of the evening throwing a fit in one of the main dressing rooms? Why am I stuck here with nobody to talk to? Thomas was out tracking down someone to ask a question. Not that Rick really cared. He was still adjusting to the idea that his father had been with them all along. They both made a concerted effort to not let this change their professional relationship, but how could it not?
Rick was left in a tiny dressing room, already wearing his outfit for the evening. He wasn’t nominated for anything that year, but he was expected to be ready to go out and perform sometime over the next two hours. The sound check earlier that day hardly felt like the rush he got while on tour. He had a lot to express on the tour. One night on an award show? Not so much.
His makeup was done and his hair styled the way people wanted it. Then they left him to his own devices, and all he had to entertain himself with was a cell phone that got spotty reception backstage. He could barely text his girlfriend, let alone surf the web.
Suffice to say, he wasn’t expecting a special visitor a half hour before the show began.
“Rick?” Fiona stood in the doorway, a guest pass hanging around her neck and resting on top of her protruding stomach. How did she get in here? Thomas. Whatever magic his manager worked, Rick couldn’t decide if he was grateful or not. He rarely saw Fiona wearing baggy clothes, let alone patting her stomach with her fingertips. She waddled farther into the room and closed the door behind her. “Sorry for interrupting you. They said now is better than later.”
“No, it’s fine.” Rick turned in his seat. “You look… pregnant.”
“That I am.” She didn’t smile, but Rick could see a gleam in her eyes. “I won’t be dancing soon. At least I know how to get rid of this weight afterward, I guess.” She took in a deep breath before Rick had the chance to say something. “I’m here because my boyfriend is a backup dancer for one of the other artists. I always wanted to come to one of these things.”
“Your boyfriend?”
Fiona nodded. “The other guy I was telling you about.”
“I see.” What was Rick supposed to say? Congratulate her? “It’s nice seeing you so well.”
“I’m back here because I got the results of the paternity test back.”
Rick braced himself for the news. After not hearing from Fiona for a couple of weeks, he thought about calling her to discover whether or not the results were back yet. “And?”
Fiona shrugged. “You’re not the father. My boyfriend is.”
Rick neither heaved a sigh of relief nor frowned. Either one was inappropriate in front of this pregnant woman, and honestly he didn’t know how he felt about the news. He was prepared for either answer. If he were the father, then he would have to be ready to make some concessions in his life. A part of him even looked forward to it. While having a child at this point in his life and career was definitely not ideal, he had to admit that he was kind of disappointed. Maybe next time. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too soon. Rick would like to clear thirty before starting to think about children. “Thanks for letting me know. I wish you all the best of luck… and if you need anything, ask.”
“Maybe I’ll dance on stage with you again one day. Until then, I guess you have Olivia to keep you company. Are you still seeing her?”
“Yeah. Hopefully she’ll come tonight.”
“I hope you can be happy with her.”
Rick smiled. “Me too.”
Fiona had to leave after that, and another woman came by to inform Rick that he had to move to another room to wait for his turn on stage. He asked her if Olivia had shown up yet. After an uninspiring no, he got up and followed the woman to the other room. I hope she shows up soon. Rick had plans for the woman who wouldn’t leave his thoughts alone.
***
Olivia showed up at the appropriate time, but finding her way around the cavernous auditorium without anyone to show her the way was more obnoxious than anything. Every time she showed up in some dark corner, there was a security guard ready to check her credentials. Was she the press? A photographer? A stagehand who didn’t wear the right clothes that day? Or, ew, a groupie? Olivia gave her name and showed her ID at all of these places, but it wasn’t until some kind and understanding soul with a clipboard showed her the right line that she finally got her pass that said she was a special guest of a talent.
There was a waiting area the guests had to stay in. She didn’t recognize any of these people, but she didn’t know if it was because she didn’t know her famous faces or because these other people really were nobodies like her. Wives, older children, even mothers… there was one best friend of some female artist that looked about as lost as Olivia, and they commiserated over (sadly, not spiked) punch and Vanilla Wafers.
“Who are you here to see?” the girl, a college-aged student named Emma, asked.
“Well…” What a quandary. Rick still wasn’t public with Olivia being his girlfriend. He had other things to worry about, such as his father. Oh, and his work.
“You’re here to see Rick Rodriguez, right?’
A few others in the room side-glanced them, but had the propriety to not outright stare while they waited for Olivia’s answer.
“I’m a rather big fan of his… I recognize you from that music video. Also, I went to the Los Angeles concert. You were in that too, right?”
“Sure…”
Emma smiled, probably because she was proud of herself for getting it right. “Lucky! Well, I won’t ask any more about that. You better go find out about seeing him soon, though. I think he’s one of the first to perform.”
That was Olivia’s first time hearing about that, so she approached the clipboard-wielder standing by the door and asked if it was okay to go see Rick yet.
“Are you nuts?” he asked, wagging his pen in Olivia’s direction. “He’s on standby to go on stage. They moved him up because another artist dropped out at the last minute. We can take you backstage to watch, but that’s it. You’ll have to wait to see him until after.”
“Then take me backstage!”
What a mess. Olivia didn’t doubt that award shows were a lot more stressful to run than one of the shows she did with Rick, where things were rarely changed and most of the people knew what to expect after opening night, but that didn’t change the fact things were so messy that Olivia’s mother could steamroll through going on the biggest tirade about cleanliness and responsibility that everyone in Hollywood, New York, and even Nashville would feel ashamed.
Olivia was left to wait backstage, just to the side and out of the way. Dancers hustled on and off the stage; a man she recognized from a music show sauntered out in a suit to roaring applause; the lights changed colors and flashed every time the tempo in a song changed. It reminded Olivia of the tour, yet more glamorous. More fancy clothes and more pomp and circumstance. The host was a comedian known for harassing music artists good naturedly in his routines. When he got ready to announce Rick’s performance, he said, “This guy has more hip thrusts breaking than Michael Jackson in a nursing home.” The crowd laughed, uneasily, and Olivia wanted to die on Rick’s behalf.
She expect
ed to see at least a few dancers take the stage, but all she saw was Rick standing by himself center stage, holding an acoustic guitar. In his leather jacket and jeans he looked cool enough to start up a modernized rendition of a John Denver song, and nobody would get the irony.
A man next to Olivia cued Rick when the cameras were ready for him to begin. After a curt nod Rick began to play the opening chords to “Midnight Tango,” his most famous song thus far and the one that had more sentimentality in Olivia’s heart than anything else. That’s like… our song! It was silly to think of it that way, but when Rick sang the first line, his voice smooth and deep, Olivia almost convinced herself that this was the best song in the world.