by Jay, Libby
I walk up behind her and plant a kiss on her cheek. “You were such a babe Mum,” I say to her. I’m always teasing her about how beautiful she was, or is, I should say. “I had the biggest crush on you.”
She laughs and shakes her head. “Shut up, Mikey.”
We wrap an arm around each other and I look at the photo also. “I remember that day,” I say. “That was a good day.”
Mum smiles at me. “It was the best day.”
Dad says even now that that was the day his heart stopped beating for him alone and started beating for Mum also. He knew that when Mum kissed him on stage in front of thousands of fans that their hearts were truly united.
Dad, always such a poet.
Mum moved in with Dad and I that same night. They got married three months later and have not once spent the night away from each other. He says he spent enough time away from Lyndsay during that year after he “stuffed-up” (he told me that entire terrible story during one of his ‘learn from my mistakes’ talks) to last him an entire lifetime. Waiting for her to come back to him was complete torture. He never wanted to be apart from her again.
I can sympathise with him. I had to wait for the love of my life too.
I told Mum I was going to marry Grace when I was eight years old. She was four. It sounds pretty sick because of the age difference, but for us, it was perfectly natural.
We never officially started dating, it sort of slowly evolved. Whenever we went out together, I’d hold Grace’s hand. That started from the moment she started to walk; I’d hold her hand and walk with her. Everyone thought it was cute, but as we got older, people began to worry. No, not people; Gavin. Gavin started to worry. He kept telling me it wasn’t appropriate - I guess a sixteen year old boy holding hands with a twelve year old girl is a little strange - but for Grace and I, it was normal. We’d learned to rely on each other for company as both of us travelled a lot with the band. We went to school for the short periods we were home but when we were on tour, Mum schooled us. It was hard to make friends when you were on the road so much.
I gave Grace her first kiss on her sixteenth birthday. I was twenty. I was a twenty year old uni student saving himself for a teenage girl. Torture, especially when all I heard from the other guys my age was about the girl they’d slept with the night before. But I refused to do it. I wanted to save that for Grace.
A few months before her eighteenth birthday, she confessed to me that she loved me. That was the best thing I’d heard in my entire life. I of course returned her feelings, and didn’t hesitate to tell her. Over the next few months we stole little touches from each other, hugging and kissing each other, I took her out on “dates” and on the night of her eighteenth birthday, we spent the night together in a really nice hotel room. Gavin was beside himself with worry and apparently he spent the entire night pacing the halls of his house.
Well, the laugh is on him. We didn’t have sex that night. We didn’t have sex for another three weeks after her birthday. She was too nervous and there was no way I was going to try to talk her into doing something she wasn’t ready to do. I’d waited so long for her, what was another couple of weeks? Anyway, there are other ways to be intimate without having sex, and we definitely explored all those options.
Now I’m twenty six and Grace is twenty two and no one can stop us from being together.
Everyone expected that I would follow in my father’s footsteps and become a rock star. I definitely have the talent; I have the same voice as Dad and I can play just about any musical instrument, but I seriously lack the drive to be a rock-star. I’ve seen how exhausting it can be, writing and touring and being in the spot light. I decided at a pretty young age that was not what I wanted.
I love music though. So, after I finished high school, I got a degree in music and went on to become a doctor of music philosophy. I teach music history and composition in a highly esteemed university and when I’m not teaching, I’m writing my own compositions and selling them.
I make a pretty good living from it too.
Gavin and Jasmine never got married. They still dye their hair every week and Jasmine still wears the same punk rock fashion (much to Grace’s horror). They never had any more children but they’re still happily together.
They moved out from our house when Grace was fifteen. I think that was Gavin’s way of trying to get Grace and I to spend less time together. If he’d wanted that to happen, he should’ve moved further away than next door. It took about three days for Grace and I to pull down a section of fence between the two houses and to this day, that section of fence is still missing, although neither Grace nor I live at home anymore.
I bought my first home three years ago and Grace officially moved in with me two months ago.
“I don’t remember that day,” Grace says from behind me. I turn and open my other arm to her and she settles in beside me. I have no idea where she got her stunning looks from, neither Gavin nor Jasmine are particularly good looking, but I know she got all her six-feet-one-inch of height from her father’s Scandinavian ancestry. Good thing I’m tall too – six-feet-one-inch. We have a silent agreement that she is never to wear high heels when we go out together. “I don’t remember anything until the first big tour.”
The first big tour. That was crazy but a whole heap of fun. I was nine then, Grace was five and Mum found out she was pregnant in Germany. I remember that day too. Dad and I had been out for a walk through the snow filled streets and when we arrived back at the hotel, Mum was crying. She was holding a little white stick in her hands and she kept saying over and over “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
Apparently, Mum and Dad had spoken about having children a little later on in life, once things settled a bit for Dad’s career, but it would seem that life had different plans. Life decided that Mum should get pregnant at the height of Blue Saturn’s fame.
Dad gathered Mum into his arms and held her so tightly I thought he’d break her. Then when I saw Dad’s face; he was crying too. I didn’t understand what was going on so I started to cry as well. Then he started to laugh and Mum looked worried and I still didn’t know what was going on, so I did a weird laugh/cry thing. Needless to say, Dad was ecstatic that he was going to be a dad again. Because of Mum’s cancer and treatment, there was a risk that she wouldn’t be able to have kids and that thought had always saddened Dad. So the fact that she was pregnant, even though the timing was bad, was nothing but the best news for Dad.
Eight months later, not long after the tour finished, Jimmy arrived on the scene.
While I look a dead ringer for Dad, Jimmy looks just like Mum. Only a more masculine version. A ten year age difference means we don’t have an awful lot in common at the moment, but he’s a good kid. He doesn’t give Mum and Dad any grief, and he usually comes to me when he’s got himself into a bit of trouble. But as of yet, I’ve not had to bail him out of jail so I guess I can’t complain.
Jimmy will most certainly be a rock star, but unfortunately the kid can’t sing. He gets that from Mum too. But he has the same talent as I; he can play just about any musical instrument. His forte is the guitar. He’ll definitely play lead guitar for the next big Aussie band.
Then I’ll see about having to bail him out of jail.
“You guys look so young in that photo.” Speak of the devil. That’s Jimmy. He’s standing behind Mum, looking over her shoulder.
“We were young,” Mum says.
“You’re still young,” Grace says. She adores Mum just as much as Mum adores her.
“They’re not young, Dad’s fifty,” Jimmy says. “That’s why he’s retiring. He’s too old to be a rock star.”
“That’s not why he’s retiring,” Mum says. “He’s retiring because he still loves what he does and he wants to go out on a high.”
That’s why we’re all here tonight. The Australian Music Industry is putting on a big farewell to Australia’s most successful rock band. Three months ago, Blue Saturn finished their last worl
d tour. And now, everyone who is anyone is here to say goodbye to them in one final show.
There are posters and memorabilia and photos of the band, from day one right up to their last show a few weeks ago.
It’s going to be a good night.
“You haven’t aged a single bit.” Dad gives Jimmy a little nudge and moves in to kiss mum’s neck.
Mum laughs. “Yeah, right. Can you not feel my spongy tummy?”
“Hmm, I can,” Dad hums into her neck.
They are so gross. But it’s kinda nice to know that love like that exists.
“I have a surprise for you,” Dad says and turns her around. We all turn around with her and when I see who’s standing not too far behind us, a smile comes to my face as well.
Kyle is here with his son Laurie. Kyle rang a few days ago to say he couldn’t get the money together to get here. So of course, Dad paid for his airfare and accommodation. Dad’s really generous when it comes to things like that. And by ‘things like that’ I mean doing things that will make Mum smile. Only now she’s crying - happy tears.
Kyle is her step-brother and they’re really close. Apparently Mum’s step-dad was pretty awful to them growing up. I don’t know the full story, actually I don’t even know half of it, but I know what happened to them was terrible and that Kyle and Mum are really close because of it.
Kyle is a widower. His wife died three months after giving birth to Laurie because of some sort of complication that led to her haemorrhaging. He has dedicated his life to giving his son the best life he can. He quit his job at Globe and became an electrician so he didn’t have to be away from home. They still live in New Zealand. Laurie is eleven and is a pretty quiet kid. It must be hard growing up without a mum. I couldn’t imagine where I’d be if it weren’t for my mum. From what I’ve heard, I’d probably be a drug addicted rock star wannabe. But I don’t like to dwell on the what if’s. All I know is that I’ve had a damn good life and I owe that to Mum.
The event photographer approaches Dad and I know it’s going to get complicated. He wants a family photo, but there have been some disagreements as to who is family.
According to Mum, our family consists of me, Mum, Dad, Jimmy, Grace, Gav, Jasmine, Cherry and Jacob and their tribe, Carey and Bianca (who have remained childless by choice), Granddad (who still barely looks at Dad), Paul, Steve (who are still as outrageous as they were twenty years ago) Kyle and Laurie. Then there’s Aunty B and Uncle M, Meredith and Levi and their two kids.
That’s one huge family and the photographer has been arguing that that’s too many people to fit into a family portrait.
Mum said that if he was a true professional he could make it work. So now we’re going to have to get all those people together for a photo. This may take a while.
Blue Saturn takes the stage for the final time. It’s a sort of sad feeling knowing that I’ll never see Dad performing in this capacity again because he still has it. He can control a room today just as easily as he did twenty years ago. And he’s just as fit and energetic. One of my favourite things to do is run with my family. We do it every Sunday morning, without fail, and then get together for a big breakfast. Mum and Dad still do it a few times a week, the running that is, not the big breakfasts.
They put me to shame.
Blue Saturn leaves the stage and while everyone is distracted congratulating them, I take Grace’s hand and lead her to a door which leads to a staircase which leads to the roof of the building.
“Where are we going?” she asks.
I open the exit and step out under the city sky. I can’t see any stars but from where we stand we can see all the lights and the river. It’s not a half bad view. But the view I get to see is even better.
I fall onto one knee and look up into Grace’s eyes. She instantly sobs and tears come to her eyes. Then she smiles. That is one damn fine view.
“Grace, I have loved you for as long as I can remember and I will love you until I can no longer remember.” I hold out a small diamond ring. “Will you marry me?”
Grace is laughing and crying and nodding her head all at the same time. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask me to marry you since I was six years old, Mikey.”
I slip the diamond ring onto her finger. “I’ve wanted to ask you since before then.” I stand up and pull her into my arms, kissing her, tasting her salty tears on her lips. “I love you Grace.”
“I love you too, Mikey.”
Why should Mum and Dad be the only ones to get their happy ever after? We all deserve a happy ending.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Libby Jay is a lover of books. She wrote her first short story at the age of 8 – a story about a family of dragons battling their enemy dragon neighbours – and during her teens wrote hundreds of other short stories and poems. Life got in the way during her twenties but finally, after the birth of her 2 gorgeous sons, she somehow found time to start writing again.
When she’s not writing, she’s either reading, baking or “working up a sweat”. Sometimes she’ll combine two of those things but has yet to combine all three.
Libby Jay lives in Melbourne, Australia with her husband and two sons.
ALSO BY LIBBY JAY
Postcards to Gray
Touch Me
Copyright © 2015 Libby Jay.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in part or in whole, without the written permission of the publisher.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
ISBN: (e-book) 978-0-9943606-0-1