My Kind of Forever

by Heidi McLaughlin

“I know,” I answer in kind to Dana. When I look at her, I swear I spot a bit of drool coming out of her mouth. I don’t blame her. I go to bed with this man every night and here I am staring like a horny teenager wondering how I’m going to get that guy’s number. If I weren’t married to him, I’d be figuring out a way.

  Behind him, Noah walks in dressed similarly to Liam. My mouth drops open causing Liam to chuckle. I want to go over and ask the men in my life what’s going on, but something tells me that I need to stay where I am. Liam says something to Noah, who looks at me and winks. I cover my mouth in shock and elation. Seeing them together like this is magical.

  “I hope you have a shotgun,” Dana says.

  “Why?”

  She shakes her head. “Liam Junior is going to have a flock of women coming after him.”

  “I’m not ready for those days.”

  “Yeah, well they’re coming soon.” She leaves me standing at the counter, watching the men put their equipment together. I’m startled when a warm hand encases mine. I look down to find Peyton by my side. For all my worries about Liam, I tend to forget about how much Harrison leaving is affecting Quinn and the girls. I thought Quinn would be used to it, but he always went on tour with the band, so this will be something new for him. It’s a good thing he has Katelyn to help him through it. It’s refreshing to see how well she and Quinn have adapted... you’d think she’s his biological mom. Peyton and Elle, on the other hand, are so attached to Harrison that it can’t be easy for them to know he won’t be there when they wake up in the morning. I’m expecting some serious meltdowns from Peyton.

  “I don’t like what he’s wearing.”

  My eyes go from her to Harrison and back to her. She’s dressed in her usual wear: gym shorts, a football shirt and tennis shoes.

  “You don’t like what your dad is wearing?”

  Peyton looks up at me with her baby blue eyes. Her long brown hair is in a messy pony tail, which I’m sure she did herself because she refuses to let Katelyn touch her hair.

  “Noah. I don’t like that he looks like that. Football players aren’t supposed to dress funky.”

  I can only nod and keep my comments to myself. I’ve suspected a crush was developing, but thought it would pass. The five-year age difference, while it’s an issue now, won’t always be. Not that I expect them to end up together.

  “I don’t know why Noah is dressed like his dad tonight, maybe they got dressed together?” I’m grasping at straws here and she knows it. Since she and Harrison found a common bond, we’ve all been able to relax a little. Losing Mason, while extremely hard on all of us, shattered her world. For the longest time it was like we were walking on eggshells. That is, of course, unless your name is Liam or Noah. They can do no wrong when it comes to Peyton.

  As soon as Noah pulls out his guitar, my heart starts to beat a little faster. Liam is encouraging Noah to do anything he wants, and when he asked to learn how to play, Liam happily taught him. Occasionally, I hear Noah practicing in his room, but he’s never played for me.

  “I think we should get a seat.” I tug on Peyton’s hand and even though she sighs loudly, she follows. Katelyn, Elle, Jenna and Eden have seats saved for us. Eden is yelling for Jimmy and getting angry that he’s not coming for her. She has him wrapped around her finger. If ever there were a family that needed each other, it’s them. Jimmy needed Jenna to change his ways, and she needed him to find herself again. Eden was just the icing on their proverbial cake. She makes them both better people.

  “We want to thank everyone for coming tonight. I know there’s a bunch of you still outside and if you can hear me, please listen to Sarah at the door when she tells you to wait.”

  Liam pulls a stool closer to his mic stand and winks at me. “So, tonight, 4225 West is heading back to LA.”

  The collective groan from the patrons reverberates through me. I can relate.

  “In our careers, we all start somewhere and the place where we started is going under. We’re going to try and save it. We don’t know if we’ll be successful, but we owe it to the owner to help her. So tonight, we’re going to give you a little show before we have to catch the red-eye. But up first is my son who has something special to say.”

  My heart soars with pride as Noah steps up to the microphone. He clears his throat, looks at Liam who nods, and then looks at the audience.

  “My dad helped me learn this song for my mom.”

  Katelyn squeezes my leg as once again, my mouth falls open. Noah and Liam sit down on their respective stools, both holding guitars. Noah strums the first chord, followed by Liam, who can’t take his eyes off our son. A look of pride and encouragement is in the smile Liam holds as he watches Noah move his fingers up and down the fret board.

  I know the song in an instant as the lyrics come pouring out of Liam’s mouth. His eyes are focused on me as he sings. She’s Like the Wind is one of my favorites and I used to make Noah dance to it with me over and over again. It has always reminded me of Liam and to hear him sing the words now brings tears to my eyes.

  I don’t know who to watch: Liam or Noah. My watery eyes are moving back and forth between the two loves of my life as they play this song for me. Harrison and Jimmy have chimed in and are playing the melody behind my guys, with Harrison even singing backup. The group effort isn’t lost on me, even though I’m focused on the Westbury men.

  Before I know it, the song is over and I’m bum rushing the stage, pulling both of them into my arms. Noah’s arms are wrapped around my waist as I cry into Liam’s shirt. So much for him looking dapper tonight, now he looks like a snot rag. Maybe that will deter any women from speaking to him on the plane...

  “I don’t know what to say. Is this why you wouldn’t play in front of me?” I ask Noah.

  He looks up, still holding on to my waist. “Yes. Dad tried to get me to sing, but that’s his thing.”

  “It was beautiful, thank you so much.” I let my fingers comb through his hair, which is just slightly longer than Liam’s right now. He looks more like his dad with each passing day. I know deep in my heart if Liam hadn’t come back when he did, I’d be looking for him.

  When I glance at Liam, he’s beaming with joy at Noah and his accomplishment.

  “Thank you for this. I really needed it.”

  “Anything for the woman we love,” Liam says, kissing me chastely on the lips.

  The crowd behind us erupts in a cheer, much to my embarrassment. Noah takes my hand and leads me off stage so the guys can put on the show they promised their fans. Peyton slides one seat over to the left, instead of moving closer to her mom. She wants to sit by Noah who is all too eager to start talking to her. I know there’s going to come a time when he won’t have anything to do with her and that’s going to be hard on Peyton. Not sure how Katelyn will prepare her for that day. I just pray it doesn’t happen anytime soon.

  The motorcycle speeds by, dangerously close to the limousine. Sam is yelling at the driver to step on it while the driver is cussing at her in some language I’ve never heard before. We’re a wreck waiting to happen.

  “The windows are tinted and we’re over an hour early for our flight. What’s the rush, Sam?” Harrison asks, as he pulls the strap on his seatbelt. His gesture reminds me to put mine on, and I kick JD in the shoe and motion for him to buckle up as well. I can feel Sam glaring at me, but I don’t care. I’m not a free spirit like her.

  “It’s the rush, Harrison. You’re rockers. Live on the edge, be free, and take a fucking risk every now again.”

  “I have a son, which means he needs me.” Harrison pushes the button that drops the window between us and the driver. “Slow down my friend. We’re in no hurry. Don’t listen to the crazy bitch.”

  “Ah fuck,” I mumble as Sam’s face turns red. If she were a cartoon character, steam would be billowing out of her ears right now. Harrison doesn’t give a shit though, and neither should I, but I’m always the one that gets stuck with her.

  As lu
ck would have it, she doesn’t say anything. For now, that’s a good thing, but he’ll likely pay later. Harrison has asked me repeatedly what I see in her. Truth is, I’m not sure. Most of the time she’s a ragging bitch, but other times she’s sweet and can be one of the nicest people I know. I don’t know if she’s suffering from a bad case of PMS or what, but she and Harrison do not get along.

  The second we pull up to the terminal my seatbelt is off and I’m out the door. I’m not waiting for the driver to come around to let me out. That’s not who I am even if that’s who Sam wants me to be. I can also carry my own bags and wheel my own suitcase, another habit that drives her batty.

  At LAX the paps are everywhere. It’s harder than hell to get through the terminal without getting your picture taken. And there’s no point in fighting it. So while the car is being unloaded, Harrison, JD and I stand here with our bags in our hands while our manager is barking orders at anyone who will listen. Why we’re flying when the rest of our crew is on the tour bus, I have no idea, but I don’t like it. I think treating them differently is wrong and the fact that they’re leaving their families for months on end to live on the road, is a sacrifice they’re willing to make and I should be making it too.

  Flash bulbs are going off like crazy. Our names are being called and told to look in their direction. We ignore them, but don’t move from our spots, giving them ample opportunity to get their images. We’re asked personal questions. Most of them invade our privacy. My favorites are about my mystery love child, mine and Sam’s wedding (which will never happen) and if I’m sleeping with the newest ‘it’ girl.

  When I first arrived on the scene, I’d answer anything. Unless it had to do with back home, those questions were dodged like a bullet. That was my old life, one I didn’t want to bring into my new life... or to even think about it, truth be told. The memories of home are painful and I’m still trying to get over them.

  Walking through the terminal, we follow Sam, who manages to power walk in five inch heels. She makes us follow behind her, forgetting that she works for us. A couple times we’ve talked about firing her, moving on to a different company, but when you look at the numbers and the tours and venues we’re playing in, you can’t help but give her some credit for getting us where we are. Yes, it’s our music, but she’s the one who is selling us to the promoters. No, firing her would be a bad idea, even if she drives us to drink.

  A luxury of having money is that we fly first class, and we get to wait in the lounge until our names are called. It never fails that we’ll run into a fan or two, but for the most part they just want to talk. They just want to get to know us and feel like we’re all on the same level which is nice and relaxing until you meet the one crazy who was able to upgrade her flight. That’s when Sam steps in. That’s when she’s very useful for us at the airport.

  As soon as our plane touches down, the telltale clicking of seatbelts being slid out of their buckles echo throughout the cabin, breaking the standard rule of waiting until we’re stopped at the gate. For the first time in years, we flew coach. Our last flight had been with Sam, giving each of us someone to share a seat with. I was always with her while Harrison and JD sat next to each other. This time we just took up a row, keeping our arm rests pushed back and our trays full of work.

  Gone are the days where fans would greet us at the airport and paparazzi are here happily clicking the shutter button on their cameras for tomorrow’s spread in Page Six. The lackluster fanfare for our arrival is disappointing, not that I expected anything different.

  “Didn’t you tweet that we were arriving?” I had asked JD to post what time we were arriving, hoping to stir up some attention. Apparently, tweeting your location only works in Beaumont because we’re standing in the wide open at LAX and people are passing us right and left without a second glance. This is freaking Los Angeles, and no one cares that 4225 West is standing in the airport looking like idiots, begging for attention.

  “Yeah, I did,” he says, pulling out his phone. He rambles off the number of favorites and retweets he’s received, but none of them matter. The lack of a welcoming crowd only proves what I’ve been saying all along: We need to be in Los Angeles if we want to be successful. This place is what makes or breaks you and right now, we’re definitely broken.

  “Well boys, we’re back,” Harrison says as he shoulders his bag.

  “We should have a car waiting to take us to the Wilshire.”

  “Your home away from home,” JD says, reminding me that I used to live there. My happiest memory is the day that Josie came to my place for dinner. I wanted to seduce her; remind her of the connection we had and could still have. I was on the cusp of doing something foolish, but pulled back. She was promised to another man and as much as I didn’t care about him, I cared about her.

  When we step outside, the black Town Car is there to take us to the hotel. I don’t know why I chose the Wilshire. It was either familiarity, convenience, or just out of habit, but I’m currently second-guessing myself. There’s too much history and bad memories mixed with only one good one. We pile in, with me being the last one inside the car. As soon as I shut the door, I want to beat the shit out of Harrison and JD for not bailing as soon as they saw Mr. Moreno across from them.

  “What the fuck are you doing in my car?” I ask, not sugar coating the hostility rolling off my tongue.

  He takes off his hat. He’s aged tremendously since the last time we saw him. Our last encounter was in court when we filed a restraining order against Sam, and if I’m not mistaken that included Moreno Entertainment. Truth be told, the only thing the old man did wrong was protect his daughter. Any father would, but when you’re running a business sometimes you need to forget your employees are family.

  “I thought we could talk business.”

  “We’re not interested,” Harrison says. JD and I both nod in agreement.

  Moreno cracks a smile. His bald head is shining thanks to the oncoming headlights and I find myself trying not to laugh. If Noah were here, he’d be cracking jokes and this would be the one time I’d tell him not to mind his elders.

  “It’s no secret you guys are struggling.” His voice is gruff, sounding like he’s had one too many cigars. He probably has, although I’ve never seen him with one. I’ve spent ample time in his mansion, being catered to while I sat by the pool, and not once did I see this man smoke. Drink, yes. He can handle his liquor better than anyone I know.

  I shake my head, biting the inside of my cheek. “We’re fine.”

  He scoffs, knowing the truth. “Your manager is good, but he doesn’t have the nuts to get you guys the deals you’re used to. You guys are has-beens when you were destined to be on top. You packed up for your lala land life and look at where it’s got you… playing free gigs at your wife’s café.”

  All three of us are silent and still, knowing he’s right. But I did this. What I should’ve done was break up the band so they could pursue their careers. Instead, they followed me and started their lives, getting married and raising kids. I mean, that’s what we are now... family men.

  Moreno leans forward pointing his hat at us. “You know I’m right and you know you miss it. You miss seeing your name in lights, flashing across the marquee. You want to hear your fans screaming your name, crawling over each other just so they can touch you. The bright lights of movie premieres, award shows and having that spotlight shine down on you, illuminating you from darkness it’s why you became the group you are.”

  “We’re fine,” I say out of spite, but my voice lacks the conviction. I never want to admit a man like him is right, but fuck if he’s not.

  “Keep telling yourself that, Page. I can see it in your eyes. All of your eyes.”

  The car comes to a stop and Mr. Moreno starts to slide out. He doesn’t look at me, only Harrison and JD. “Don’t let this idiot ruin your careers. You know how to reach me.”

  Before any of us can rebuke his comment, the door is slammed shut and we’re spe
eding down the road. The silence is so thick a chainsaw wouldn’t be able to hack through it. I keep my eyes down, unable to face my friends, my family. I don’t want to know what they’re thinking and I’m in no mood to tell them what I am. They don’t need to know that I’ve been considering moving back to L.A., that I’ve been trying to find a way to make it work before I give Josie the proposal. Each time I think about bringing it up, I remind myself of how selfish I am for even considering it. I came back to Beaumont for her and Noah. They didn’t come for me.

  I don’t realize that we’ve stopped until the door is open and the driver is welcoming us to the Wilshire. I’m suddenly sick to my stomach with fear, thinking that as soon as I step out of this car and onto the streets of Los Angeles, I’m making yet another mistake. It seems fitting since the last time I made a life-altering mistake it had to do with this place. There’s a power here that controls you, it guides and destroys if you’re not careful. I need to be careful.

  “Welcome home, Mr. Page. The Wilshire family has missed you.” A short brunette greets me and instantly wraps her arm in mine before she guides us into the lobby. Harrison and JD are left behind with the bags. I try to stop and wait with them, but her grip is firm and before I know it, we’re in front of the elevator for the penthouses. Pulling my arm out, I put my hand up.

  “I need to wait for my friends.”

  This doesn’t seem to please her, evident by the frown on her face, but I don’t care. For all I know she’s an escort sent by Moreno. If he’s testing my loyalty to Josie, he’s a moron. There isn’t a chick on this planet that can compete with my wife. And every other woman I’ve ever been with, including his daughter, I always compared to my Jojo. That should tell him something.

  Harrison frowns when I reach him, and I just shake my head. I have no doubt we’re thinking the same thing. As much as it would skyrocket our career, bring us to the forefront of mainstream, being with Moreno Entertainment is deadly. I hate to admit he’s right, though, we need him, or someone like him. The only benefit of working with him is getting to stay in Beaumont. Everyone else will want us here or in New York.