My Kind of Forever

by Heidi McLaughlin

  When we arrive, there’s a line of people wrapped around the block. I want to surprise Liam, but have a feeling this was a mistake. I should’ve called him, or at least Harrison or Jimmy, and asked to be put on the list. If Jenna were already here I wouldn’t have a problem, but she decided to visit her parents for a few days before flying out here to be with Jimmy.

  I pay the cab driver and step out into the nightlife of Los Angeles with my suitcase behind me.

  “Now who’s the cliché?” I say to myself. I look like the poster child for wayward travelers. The people in line, mostly women, glare or snarl at me. I get it, I’m older and carrying a suitcase. I look like a fruitcake. My surprise for Liam is not well thought out and I have a feeling I’ll be standing outside until I can get ahold of him.

  As I approach the door, I can hear him singing. I wanted to be here for his show and it looks like I’m going to miss it. There’s a large man at the door with a clipboard. I know from stories Liam has told me that there will be a list of names on it. What are the chances he’s put my name down? I think I have a better chance at winning the lottery tonight.

  “Hi, I know this is going to sound silly –”

  “End of the line is down there somewhere.” He points down the block without making eye contact with me.

  “Right. Look, my husband is Liam Page and I’m trying to surprise him.”

  “Uh-huh, and I’m the Pope. End of the line.”

  “Look let me show you.” I pull out my wallet and flash my driver’s license. I know he’s appeasing me when he flashes his light on it.

  “Your last name is Westbury.”

  “So is Liam’s,” I tell him, wondering how he doesn’t know this.

  “End of the line, ma’am.”

  My last ditch effort is to show him family photos. I hate that I have to let him see moments that we’ve shared together, but I have no other choice. I pull out my phone and open my photo app.

  “Here, look through my phone. Liam’s my husband and I’m really trying to surprise him.”

  To my surprise, he flips through the images, studying each one. He speaks into the radio that’s hooked to his shirt as he hands my phone back me. He doesn’t say anything, just continues to look at his clipboard.

  “Is she cutting?” The voice belongs to a blonde with an all too small dress on. Even in her heels she’s shorter than me.

  “No, she thinks she’s Page’s wife.”

  “I don’t think, I am,” I snap back.

  “Huh, he didn’t say anything about a wife last night.”

  I see nothing but rage and wonder what a night in jail will feel like. I’m about to punch her lights out when my name is called. I turn sharply toward the door to find a short woman with jet-black hair and bright red lips. The girls in line start calling her name, Trixie, but she and I are having a stare down.

  “Come with me.” She turns back in the club, leaving me on my own to meander through an angry mob of women.

  The second I step in, people are dancing and drinking around me. I can hear Liam on stage, but can’t see him. I try to follow Trixie, but she’s too short and I’ve lost her. It’s okay, though, because I needed to be inside and now I am.

  People are glaring at me as I work through the crowd, hitting them with my suitcase. This isn’t ideal, but right now nothing in my life is. I’m finally in a spot where I can see and I wish I wasn’t. In this moment I wish I were home, snuggled up in bed with my son and watching a movie.

  My husband is hot, I agree with every woman - and man - who says it. The sex appeal grows when he’s on stage. His shirt is sweaty, sticking to his body. I know from experience that the people in the front row can see the outline of his muscles and his six-pack. They can also see the faint outline of my name tattooed on his chest. It’s not a small tattoo either. Jojo is spread across his chest in large letters with swirls all around it. He’s proud of that tattoo. Hell, I am too. Every woman that has been with him knows my name.

  But he loses a lot of sex appeal to me when I see him on stage with a cigarette hanging from his fingers. I know he smoked for a while, years ago, but he quit when Quinn was born. At least, I thought he did. Maybe I’ve been blinded by love all this time and didn’t realize he still smoked. If that’s the case, I’m stupid.

  I move closer, pushing my way through the crowd. I want to be up front. I want him to see me. He needs to know I’m here. The jostling between bodies makes me nauseated, but I’m determined. I’m almost there when a female voice starts singing. The people around me calm down and start swaying.

  The singer stands next to Liam, angling her body so his arm is pressed against her chest. He doesn’t move it. Instead, he looks at her as he strums his guitar. After a few lines, he’s singing, but he’s not looking at the crowd, he’s looking at her. I glance over at Jimmy and Harrison and they’re both lost in the music.

  Liam lets go of his guitar and it hangs there, slightly behind him. He’s moving with her around stage, exchanging lyrics that call for love and sex. She sings about falling love, and he sings about just needing sex. When he returns to his mic stand he pulls his shirt up a little, flashing his stomach to the crowd, much to their delight. I’ve never seen him like this. He doesn’t perform like this when he’s at Ralph’s or even the café. I’m not sure I like him a whole lot right now.

  As soon as the song ends, the crowd parts and I’m able to work my way up front. He’s never going to see me because he’s too busy music fucking his stage partner so I turn my focus to Jimmy. I stand near him, calling his name every time he gets close. When he finally sees me, his eyes go wide. I grimace knowing he knows Liam has fucked up.

  Jimmy moves toward the center where Liam and his musical conquest are and he nods in my general direction. Liam scans the crowd, and it’s evident when he finds me. I wiggle my fingers and flip him off.

  They say before you die your life flashes before your eyes. I don’t know if that’s true or not, and it’s not my intention to find out anytime soon. What I do, however, know is true is that your life does flash before your eyes when you make eye contact with your very angry wife who is flipping you the bird. For my wife, that means business. It’s a rare occasion that she’ll say or do something mean spirited, but after tonight I fear that: One, I’ll be dead. Two, I’ll be packing my bags, which means I’ll want to be dead. Or three, she’ll cut off my dick. Of those options, I’ll gladly take three.

  I know I wasn’t doing anything wrong, but I’m sure that’s not how it looked to her. She’s seeing another woman on stage, touching me and singing some explicit lyrics – lyrics that I’ve returned in kind - and her mind has started swimming. Right now, I’m the guy who can’t catch a fucking break and am about to give it all up and live a quiet life in Beaumont. Hopefully, I’ll still have a wife, but in the event I don’t, I’ll have my boys.

  I’m trying to figure out in my head why Josie’s here. It’s not that I don’t want her here, but the last I knew Noah had a game and she needed to be there for the both of us. I signal to the stagehand to come out. When he does I point at Josie and tell him to take her to the green room. As far as I’m concerned, our set is over. The remaining songs are duets with Layla and right now those can’t happen. It’s going to piss Trixie off, but I’m doing this for free. When I say I’m done, I’m done.

  “I’m cutting it short,” I say to Harrison and Jimmy as we walk off the stage. When Harrison looks at me questioningly, Jimmy tells him Josie is here. Harrison gets it. If Katelyn suddenly showed up, or even Jenna, we’d stop. As soon as the crowd realizes we’re done, the boos start, followed by chants of ‘Encore!’ Normally, we’d come back out, but tonight will be different. I have a fuck load of damage control to do and I’m not exactly sober enough to do it.

  I’m such a coward that I let Harrison and Jimmy walk in first. They greet Josie excitedly and she tells them the show was good, from what she saw. Why couldn’t she have been here an hour ago before we went on stage?
As soon as they move out of the way, I pull her into my arms and get lost in her perfume. I’m holding her tight and have my nose buried in her hair, but it doesn’t escape my notice that her arms are slack at her side. This isn’t good.

  “I’m happy you’re here.”

  “Are you?” she asks in a harsh tone.

  I pull back and cup her cheeks, rubbing the pad of my thumbs along her cheekbones. “Yes, I am. You have no idea.” I lean down to kiss her, but I’m interrupted by the door slamming against the wall.

  “What the fuck, Page? We have four more songs.”

  I close my eyes and take a deep, calming breath. Without breaking eye contact with Josie, I say, “Not tonight, Layla, my wife is here.” I realize my mistake when Josie turns rigid in my hands and tries to step back. I shouldn’t have said Layla’s name. She’s seen the pictures of us together and has already questioned if I’m in love with her.

  I don’t know what she’s put together in her mind, but I have a feeling I’ll be paying for it later.

  “Well, are you going to introduce me?” Layla demands. Without even looking at her I know her hands are on her hips and her foot is tapping.

  Reluctantly, I drop my hands from Josie’s face and set one on her hip. “Layla, this is my wife, Josie.”

  “It’s nice to finally meet you,” Layla says, stepping forward and shaking Josie’s hand. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

  “Funny, Liam hasn’t told me a single thing about you.” Layla’s face drops. She doesn’t deserve to be treated harshly by Josie, but I know better than to correct her right now.

  “Ah, shit,” JD mutters in the background as he watches the scene unfold in front of him.

  “Josie, did Katelyn happen to come with you?” Harrison asks, trying to diffuse the ticking time bomb that’s about to explode.

  “Sorry, Harrison. This was a spur of the moment trip, but I saw her and the kids today. Everyone is good.” He nods, and pulls out his cell phone to call home, I assume. He’s good like that, so is JD. Me, I sulk and take care of business before I call home because I don’t want to interrupt Josie at work even though I know she’d stop what she’s doing to talk to me.

  I turn back to Josie, ignoring Layla. “Wanna get out of here?”

  “I don’t know, are you allowed to leave?”

  I fight every urge I have to roll my eyes. “I’m allowed to do whatever I want.”

  Josie seems to be in agreement that it’s time to leave. “We’ll take a cab, right, since you’ve been drinking?”

  I purse my lips and nod. I take her hand in my mine and grab her suitcase with my other one as we head toward the door.

  “Liam, what about our set? They’re waiting for us!” Layla hollers after me.

  “Not tonight,” I say again as I push the backdoor open and step out into the night air.

  This was a mistake. I’m not prepared for the onslaught of people lined up to get into the club. It only takes one person to recognize me and scream out my name. Luckily, I’m able to grab the door before it closes and I push Josie back in, pulling the door shut behind us.

  “Sorry.”

  “For what? It’s your life, right? Isn’t this what you want?”

  My wife is a fucking angry firecracker right now, and she’s testing me.

  “I enjoy it, yes.”

  “But not with me?”

  I squint my eyes in confusion. “What?”

  She points to the door. “Why can’t you show people who I am? Do you have any idea how humiliating it was to wait out front and beg the security guard to let me in? He didn’t believe I was your wife because no one has ever seen us together.”

  “I do it to protect you and Noah.”

  Josie crosses her arms over her chest. “Noah’s not here and we’re not at home. When you have the opportunity to showcase, you don’t.”

  This woman infuriates me. She doesn’t want to be a part of this side of my life, but wants people to see us together? I can’t fucking win.

  “Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  I grab her hand and bag and push the door open. This time they’re waiting. They know we have to come out of the door and everyone is there waiting for us, both fans and paparazzi. Between the screams for my name, the hands grabbing me and the light bulbs going off, I’m disoriented.

  Josie clutches the back of my shirt with her freehand, a move she’s done many times back when we were younger. I loved it then and I love it now. I keep her close, and can feel her knees bumping into her suitcase.

  My name is yelled and questions are tossed out. Who is she? What about Layla? Did I file for divorce? They’re in luck tonight because I’ll actually answer a question for them.

  As luck would have it, there’s a waiting cab that we rush to. I open the door and Josie slides in. I should follow her, but I stop to turn and face everyone instead.

  “To answer your question, the woman with me tonight is my wife. As for Layla, she and I are friends. Nothing more.”

  I slide in and shut the door, telling the cabbie where to go. Josie is staring out the window and when I try to pull her closer, she takes her hand away from me. Fuck! I lean my head back and close my eyes. How did something as simple as coming to play a few shows end up in such a cluster fuck? I don’t know if it’s Moreno or that fucking book, but things with Josie haven’t been right since I mentioned coming back to LA. I know what this town means to her maybe I shouldn’t have come back at all.

  The bellhop is there to open the door when we arrive. Josie gets out while I toss some twenties at the driver. I grab her hand and pull her through the lobby. People stop and look, but only long enough to see who we are before they go about their business.

  Thankfully, the elevator is already at the lobby; the only problem is that it takes forever to get to my floor. When the doors open, I don’t take her hand. The show’s over and we’re clearly fighting. Her footsteps are quick behind mine as she follows me down the hall. I open the door, holding it for her as she steps in. If this were any other time I’d have her pinned against the wall, but right now she doesn’t want me to touch her. I let her look around, hoping she remembers the first time we were here, in a room similar to this one, while I put her suitcase in my room. I glance at the bed, imagining her spread out on the white comforter while I ravish her. It would mean no more lonely hand jobs. If only I could be so lucky.

  Josie is looking out the window when I come back into the room. I click the stereo on and open the playlist of songs I wrote about her. I did this the last time she was here, too. Using this moment to my advantage, I step up behind her, my lips ghosting along the exposed skin on her back.

  “For years I stood there and looked out the window wondering if you were down there, looking for me.” I move her hair aside and kiss her neck. “I wrote song after song about you, hoping you’d show up at a concert, praying I’d see you in the front row. I knew if I did, I’d never let you go again.”

  My fingers slide under her shirt and dance along her waistband. I know she’s pissed at me, but I also know she loves me.

  “I’m not perfect. I never claim to be. I’ve made so many mistakes, but the last few years have been the best of my life. You and Noah, you’re my world. I would never to anything to ruin that.”

  Josie turns in my hands and meets my eyes. Hers are glassy with unshed tears. “How long after you left me did you sleep with Layla?”

  I step back and drop my hands. “How do you even know about that?”

  “Why would you keep it from me?”

  I rub my hands over my face and groan. “Because it’s my past, Josie. We both have one. In fact, yours doesn’t go the fuck away and is still helping to raise our son. Speaking of Noah, where is he?”

  “With Nick,” she mutters.

  “That’s what I’m fucking talking about!”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “Yeah, well, neither is this,” I say, throwing my hands out. “You want to kn
ow about my life when we weren’t together, ask away, but don’t get pissed at me when you don’t like the answers.”

  Josie slides down the window to sit. I shake my head and wish I hadn’t gotten rid of the booze. I lean my head back and look at the ceiling. I can’t even believe I’m about to tell her this shit. I might as well sign my divorce papers tonight as well.

  “How long?”

  I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I’m unable to look at her so I stand next to her and look out the window again.

  “It was… fuck!” I roar and slam my hand against the glass pane. “It was days, Josie. It was fucking days later. I met her at the club and we went dancing. I was in a bad place that night and she gave me some Ecstasy and I went back to her place.”

  I can hear her crying and want to comfort her, but I know she won’t let me.

  “Did you use a condom?”

  “Come on, Josie.”

  “Answer me.”

  “I don’t know,” I answer honestly, shaking my head.

  “She has a daughter who is a few months younger than Noah.”

  “I know. She told me the other day when she got to town –”

  “She’s yours?”

  I laugh. “No, she’s not. Layla was… Layla was easy. She was into a lot of E and a lot of men. I’m not gonna lie, I liked her because she was so different from you, but I wasn’t ready for anything then and by the time I was, she was married.”

  “Her husband isn’t the father of her daughter.”

  “Jesus, how the hell do you know this… it’s in that book, isn’t it? Did you read that fucking book?”

  I step in front of her and crouch down, pulling her chin up so she has to look at me. I search her eyes for my answer. It’s there. Plain as day. “You did. You read the one thing I asked you not to read.”