“But I’m nobody.” I shrug, biting my inner lip, hoping that’s what people are thinking.
“Don’t doubt yourself. Right now, you’re everything to that little girl. What you did for her today, teaching her that song, is something she’ll never forget. She’s been surrounded by women who were hired to take care of her all her life. You taught her that song because you wanted to and for no other reason. Believe me, she knows the difference.”
I stay silent, and Linda nods, like she’s happy with our little talk.
“I should get her home before people start showing up at the church, looking for you. Thank you again for today. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
She heads back to the car, and when she opens it, I can hear Cailin singing at the top of her lungs the song I just taught her. I laugh out loud even though her voice lights the world around me.
Once I turn the corner, I pull up the photos again, seeing how visible my face is in them. I know I look different now, and the comments are saying my last name as Russo, but the thought of people finding out who I really am makes my heart pound and my hands sweat.
My father went to great lengths to keep my past a secret, saying no one would respect him if they knew his own daughter followed the path of the devil. I tried to help him see my side, showing him how different kinds of music could be just as healing as welcoming God into your life. I’ve felt them both and honestly believe it’s the truth.
Let’s just say, those words didn’t go over very well. Seeing his face and how ashamed he was of me is not something I want to relive—ever.
7
Adam
My face hurts from smiling so big. Hearing my little girl tell me about the song she just learned and then singing it for me is my absolute dream. The only downside is that she’s at a church and singing a religious song. With my upbringing, there’s no way I’d ever believe there was a God.
If there is, he has some explaining to do for the way I was raised.
I don’t fault anyone who’s religious, but believing in a higher power is something I absolutely don’t do.
Cailin spoke fondly of her teacher, but no one told me anything about what she looked like, except her resemblance to Cinderella. I rolled my eyes at the notion of someone being like the cartoon character, but when I saw her, it was the first thing I thought.
Then, I really looked at her and saw so much more.
I saw a true woman. Someone so pure and wholehearted that any person who walked by couldn’t help but smile in her presence.
I had been raised with the worst of the worst people around me. It wasn’t until Linda had come into my life that I even knew a human being could show love. One glance at Miss Russo, and I saw so much more than love in her eyes.
I saw hope.
I hadn’t expected other parents to take pictures the way they did, especially since they should have taken into consideration how they wouldn’t want their own kids blasted the way they blasted Cailin all over the internet.
I’d learned early on to not be surprised by anything people do, especially in the company of someone famous. I’d seen it all—from people who passed out at my feet when I said hello to women who tried to rip off my clothes and suck my dick at the first chance they got.
Miss Russo was different though. She smiled sweetly and shook my hand. It was the first time in a while that I didn’t feel like someone wanted something from me.
I saw the way her face flushed and her pulse rushed when we touched, and I couldn’t stop my own heart from pounding too. I’d never had a woman affect me that way. I wanted to stay, I wanted to get to know her, but I knew I had to go.
Now, as I sit here, hearing how she went above and beyond for my daughter just because she wanted to, proves that my intuition was right. She is different.
Even though it’s a religious song Cailin is singing, I’ll remember this moment for the rest of my life—the day my daughter taught me a song—and I have Miss Russo to thank for it.
I hear the car door open, and Cailin shows me on FaceTime that Linda just got back in the car.
“What did she say?” I ask Linda.
Linda laughs as she grabs the phone from Cailin. “She must have just seen it when I approached her. She was a little in shock, but I think everything will be fine. Miss Russo seems to handle things in stride. I mean, she handles a room full of kindergarteners all day, so what’s a few paparazzi compared to that?”
She laughs at her own joke, and I smile. Linda’s always been able to find the bright side in every situation. Her optimism is what got me through life.
“Miss Russo is a kind soul, and I’m not concerned in any way that she’ll help keep Cailin safe and away from any unwanted attention while at school. I’m positive Miss Russo is on our side.”
“Is there a reason you keep saying Miss Russo, Linda? Are you trying to hint at something here?” I taunt, knowing Linda has something on her mind.
The grin that slowly spreads across her face proves I’m right, but she acts like I’m not.
“I’m just simply stating her name; that’s all.”
She grins, and I laugh out loud.
“Give me back to my daughter, Mrs. Jacobson.”
“Good-bye, dear,” she says as she hands Cailin back the phone.
My daughter’s face fills the screen a little too close. “Tell me about the show last night,” Cailin says. “Did you make it in time?”
“I was a little late, but no one noticed. It was worth every second. You looked so beautiful, Sugarplum.”
Her face lights up, and when my favorite dimple on her left cheek shines brightly through the phone, I have to blink back the tear it brings me every time.
“Thanks, Chestnut. I had fun. The kids all asked who you were and why you left so fast.”
“Did you tell them who I was?”
“Duuuuhhhhh,” she draws out, like it’s the stupidest question I ever asked. “I told them you were my daddy!”
I laugh out loud. Of course she did. To her, that’s all I am. I hope that never changes.
* * *
Sarah
When I get home, I tell myself not to look at the news reports, not to search online, and to go about the rest of my day. Yeah, that lasts all of about ten minutes.
I start with the link Maggie sent me, and down the rabbit hole I go. Linda was right. Most of the comments are more focused on me. People wondering who I am, others wanting to be me. Some comments are mean, and some are positive.
Thankfully, nothing is mentioned about my past or who I really am—or rather, was—outside of this town. Ever since that fateful night, I’ve tried to forget that person ever existed. As far as my father’s concerned, she died, lying on that asphalt.
People question if I’m Cailin’s mom or if Adam is truly her dad.
I Google his name and click on pictures. Thousands of photos pop up, overwhelming me.
As I scroll, picture after picture shows a man with eyes so crystal blue, you wonder if you can see through them. His style is all his own as he stands out above the other guys in the band.
A small star tattoo shines to the side of his right eye in a photo, but what catches my attention is the way he has his hand up, showing his pinkie fingernail painted black. I’ve noticed Cailin only has her pinkie nail painted purple. I’ve questioned why, but remembering back to them holding both up together proves it’s for each other and no one else.
Photos of him make my chest tighten. He’s gorgeous in any outfit or any state of facial hair, clean-shaven or with a full beard. There is nothing this man can’t wear or do to himself that will change the way his lips stand out or how his narrow face and chiseled jaw make you want to kiss him all over.
I’ve thought a few of my students’ fathers were handsome, and I dated a few guys during college, but seeing my ultimate bad-boy rocker standing in front of me did something to my body I never expected.
It’s been a year since I’ve been on a date. I get a
sked out, but no one has really done it for me. And, yes, I might be religious, but I’m not a virgin even though I’m not married. But the relationships I was in were just mediocre. Maggie would tease me that I was asexual, and I almost started to believe her.
Until I shook Adam’s hand last night.
I keep trying to tell myself it’s because he’s the one I thought I’d never have a chance with—the guy who’s on your bucket list. The one you grew up with, having a poster of him on your wall, dreaming you’d get a chance to kiss him.
Though I’ve followed his band and him on social media, I’ve never looked into him personally. I know nothing about the guy besides the fact that I love the lyrics he writes.
I put my cursor to the search bar and enter Adam Jacobson’s girlfriend. To my surprise, photos of me pop up on multiple pages. I try not to absolutely freak out as I scroll through the pictures I’ve already seen.
There are stories of him being an eligible bachelor and pictures of him with girls draped over his arms, but none of them have names, and no female is repeated in any of the photos.
I search his Wikipedia page to see what I can learn. Surprisingly, it’s pretty empty. It talks all about his music and his rise to fame, but stories of his past, his parents, or his upbringing are missing. I click the rest of his bandmates’ names, and all of their info is there, some even with links to siblings who are trying to make it in the music business.
He seems to be a bit of a mystery, and all that does is make me want to know more, but I need to stop. Curiosity kills the cat every time. Him having these secrets are even more reasons I should stay far away.
I drop my phone and try to rid any thoughts of him from my mind. I’m not the same person I once was, and I definitely need to stay as far away from him as possible.
8
Sarah
When I get to school the next day, a few paparazzi stand across the street with cameras around their necks, waiting to get shots of Cailin.
An uneasy sensation washes over me as I pull into the teacher parking lot directly next to my classroom. When I peek out my window, I see Principal McAllister approaching the two men. His demeanor should have the men scattering soon. He does not take lightly to strangers who don’t belong hanging around.
To my surprise, I open my classroom door to see Cailin’s already there, sipping on chocolate milk with a bagel and cream cheese in front of her that’s big enough to feed three kids her size.
“I hope it’s okay that they let us in early this morning,” Linda says.
“Of course that’s fine. I’m glad she’s here.” I walk to my desk and put my purse in a drawer along with my lunch.
“We got you a bagel too, Miss Russo,” Cailin calls out.
“It’s okay if you’ve already eaten,” Linda quickly states.
I step over to where Cailin is sitting and pull out the tiny red seat next to her. “That’s very thoughtful of you. Thank you.”
They hand me a wrapped bagel.
“Linda wanted to get you an onion bagel, but I convinced her not to.” She leans over to whisper, “You’re welcome.”
I cover my mouth when I can’t help the laughter falling from my lips after I take a bite. “I love any bagels,” I say once I’ve chewed and swallowed. “And the onion ones are actually pretty good, but you did fine with the cinnamon raisin. Is that what you got too?”
She holds up her bagel, so I can see the bottom of it. “Sure did. They’re my favorite.”
I glance up to Linda and notice the apprehension written all over her face. Everything okay? I mouth, so Cailin won’t see.
She sighs before nodding her head toward the door. “Can we talk?”
I stand as Linda tells Cailin we’ll be right back. Once we’re outside, I turn toward her and wait for her to speak.
“I’m worried about people finding out more about her than they need to know. We knew it would happen, but I thought Adam would be back by then. It’s important that no one knows where I live or who she lives with. Can we trust you to keep that a secret?”
I place my fingers over hers to calm the nervous way her hands are rubbing against one another. “My number one priority is to keep these kids safe. I understand why Adam kept her a secret. I admire him for it.”
Her smile wavers. “People have no clue who I am, and I’d like to keep it that way. I can offer her a safe place. My concern is getting her to and from school. I don’t want people following us. When news broke yesterday, we were able to get in touch with Principal McAllister. We actually met him at his house this morning and then drove with him.”
Hearing that Principal McAllister helped them this morning makes me smile. That man has always been reasonable and, no matter what, puts the kids first. I wish there were more people like him in this community.
“He suggested getting doughnuts, but Cailin was raised with pretty clean eating, and Adam wouldn’t want her having all that sugar before school, so I suggested the bagels instead.”
Cailin holds up her bagel in celebration, brightening up the situation. I love the way she doesn’t care about everyone trying to get pictures or info on her. She’s as happy as can be with her bagel and cream cheese.
Linda looks around at the kids who have started to enter the school. “The problem is, he can’t do that every day because he said he often has meetings off-site before school. I’m just not sure what the answer is. We don’t want her treated differently than the other students. If there’s a mob of cameramen posted out front, I’m sure other parents will start to complain.”
Linda is a few inches shorter, so I lean down, making sure she hears me and knows I’m here to help. “So, we make sure they don’t get any pictures. After a few days of nothing, they’ll give up.”
She sighs. From the bags under her eyes, this must’ve kept her up all night.
I try to put her at ease. “Why don’t you bring her to my house tomorrow morning? My parking space is the first one right outside. The cameramen have to stay across the street, and from that angle, that big oak tree blocks their view.” I point to the tree and then to where my car is.
“Oh, I’d feel bad, asking that of you.” She purses her lips and shakes her head.
“Honestly, it’s no trouble at all. I’m happy to help.”
The interest in me was very short-lived. Thanks to some helpful people in our community, the idea of me being Adam’s love interest was shot down pretty quickly. Now, it’s all over the internet that I’m just her teacher. I know the truth shouldn’t hurt, but the sting of it did a little.
Now, I’m happy about it. I can come and go without people questioning me. With my tinted back windows and Cailin’s small frame, I can have her duck the few seconds we’re in front of the school, and they won’t know the difference.
“Well, um, I just …”
I softly place my hand on her arm. “Honestly, I’m happy to help. Let me give you my address. She can come home with me after school.”
She nods hesitantly but follows me back to my desk. This might not be the best solution, but it will work until we figure something else out.
When the bell rings and the kids line up for class, I notice a few standing next to Cailin, so I approach with caution, making sure everything is okay.
“Is your dad really a famous rock star?” Mason, a boy in my class, asks.
Cailin smiles with pride. “Yes, that’s my daddy.”
“Have you been onstage with him during a concert?” Mason’s excitement is barely contained. “My parents would never take me because they say there’s too much alcohol at those types of events.”
“Not onstage, but I’ve been to his shows,” she says as her eyes meet mine.
I can tell she’s questioning if she should be talking about it. I smile, encouraging her to be proud of who he is.
Ashley walks up with her hand on her hip, obviously following a movement she’s seen her mom do a thousand times, as she says snidely, “My mom says kids sho
uld be going to Disneyland, not vulgar rock concerts.”
“Then, obviously, your mom hasn’t been to a good rock concert. I’ve been to both, many times, and I like them equally,” Cailin says flawlessly.
“Well, my mom said your dad is an awful human being, and she feels sorry for you.”
Ashley turns to leave, and I instantly step in.
“Okay, everyone, let’s get inside.” I wrap my arm around Cailin, making sure she’s not taking what was just said to heart.
Her smile greets my gaze, but I can tell it’s not genuine when her eyes don’t sparkle the way they normally do. I don’t want to make a big deal of it or treat her any different than the other students, so I give her a quick hug as we enter the class, and she runs to her desk.
After school, we walk together to my car, and I help her get secured in the booster seat Linda left for me. Before I shut the door, I look her in the eye and can tell something’s wrong, so I kneel down, seeing if she wants to talk.
“Can I ask you a question, Miss Russo?”
“Of course, sweetheart.” I rub my hand over her tiny jean-covered knee.
“Do people really not like my daddy?” Her bottom lip quivers, and it takes all my power not to wrap my arms around her and block her from the hate in the world.
I take a deep breath, wondering how to approach this. “When someone is famous, like your daddy, they put their lives in the media for all to pick apart. The one thing you need to know is that not every person likes everyone. There are millions of people who love your daddy. But with that, there are some people who might not. That doesn’t make him a bad person.”
Her eyebrows bunch together, and I know I need to keep explaining.
“Is there a certain food you don’t like?”
Her nose scrunches. “I hate broccoli.”
I try not to chuckle at her admission. “Well, did you know I love broccoli?”
“How can you love broccoli? It’s disgusting.” She sticks out her tongue.
Our Song Page 6