by M. A. Foster
Then suddenly Molly was gone. She stopped coming to shows. If Drew was bothered by her disappearance, he didn’t let on; he’d moved on to the next groupie.
Then one day out of the blue, Molly showed back up. And she wasn’t alone.
Marcus had left his favorite T-shirt on the bus, and since I’d been the one to pack it, I went back to grab it. By then, Royal Mayhem was pretty popular, so Marcus hired Bass as my security.
As Bass and I approached the bus, there was Molly leaning against the side with a diaper bag and a baby carrier at her feet. She looked like one of those 80s rock video vixens. Big tits, too much makeup, five-inch heels, and bleached-blonde hair teased to the sky with so much hairspray she needed a “highly flammable” warning label.
“Excuse me.” She popped her gum as she straightened and took an unsteady step forward. “Is Drew in there?” She gestured to the bus.
Bass took a step forward. “He’s not. How’d you get back here?”
She propped her hands on her hips and purred, “I have my ways.” She gave her tits a little shimmy.
I rolled my eyes. “He’s about to go on stage,” I informed her.
Her gaze moved from Bass to me, a sneer on her face as she gave me a once-over. She didn’t remember me. We weren’t friends—I was her competition. Typical groupie.
I huffed, annoyed. “Want me to give him a message?”
“Yeah.” Another pop of her gum. She hooked a thumb over her shoulder, gesturing to the sleeping baby. “Tell Drew I didn’t sign up for this.”
My heart sank. Wait. What?
“Excuse me?” I asked, confused.
Another pop of her gum. I wanted to slap it out of her mouth.
She lifted a shoulder. “I was trying to get with Marcus, but he always had that chick hanging around.”
I was that chick. Molly was an idiot. Bass snorted beside me and I pinned him with a glare before returning my attention to Molly.
“You were after Marcus?” I asked for clarification before I slapped her head off her shoulders.
“Duh.” She rolled her eyes. “I mean, Andrew was hot but—”
I lunged for her, but Bass quickly wrapped his arms around me. Molly screeched and stumbled backward, nearly falling on her ass. “He’s my husband, you skank,” I spat.
Bass tightened his hold on me and chuckled over the top of my head. “Girl, you better get lost. Now. Before I let her loose.”
Molly rolled her eyes and popped her gum again. “Fine.” She adjusted her halter top before running her hands down the front of her tight miniskirt, brushing off some imaginary lint. “Just make sure you tell Drew that everything he needs for his son is in the bag.” She turned on her heels and started to walk away. I wanted to yell, “Good riddance,” and that the baby was better off without her, but it wouldn’t have mattered. She didn’t care.
“What’s his name?” I called out to her retreating back.
Without a break in her stride or bothering to look back, she replied, “Lucas.”
I fell in love for the second time in my life that day. Lucas was the sweetest baby with blond hair and the biggest blue eyes. In that moment, I decided I wanted to give Marcus a son. A little boy who looked just like his daddy.
I’ll never understand how Molly could just walk away from her son like that. A sweet boy who grew up to be so amazing and talented. He may not wear his heart on his sleeve, but he has a lot of love to give.
Marcus and Drew had taken Molly’s actions personally, considering they both had been unwanted children who grew up in the foster care system.
I didn’t tell either of them what Molly said, just that she wasn’t ready to be a mother. Honestly, her actions made no sense. If she’d had one working brain cell in her head, she could’ve taken Drew for child support. Obviously getting knocked up by a rock star wasn’t her end game.
Fucking my husband was.
After a major freak-out and reassurance from Marcus, me, and the rest of the band that we’d be there to help every step of the way, Drew embraced fatherhood. And he did a wonderful job raising his son. Lucas knows everything about his mother and that she abandoned him. He’s made it clear that he has no interest in having her in his life whatsoever, because he already has a mother.
Me.
I’ve always loved Lucas as if he were my own son. However, I give him his space because it’s just the way he is. But he knows I’ll always be here for him, whether it’s as a mother figure or just Emerson.
Grace returns to the kitchen and smacks a kiss on Lucas’s cheek before she begins putting together a plate of fruit for Jay.
“What’s Jay doing?” Lucas asks.
“Last I checked, she was sleeping,” I tell him. “Seems that’s all any of us are doing right now.”
Grace hums in agreement as she finishes cutting up a handful of strawberries and setting them on the plate.
“I was hoping to get her out of the house,” Lucas says to me. “She’s been locked in her bedroom for what, a week now?”
I couldn’t agree more. I think we all need to get out of the house, but the paparazzi are still camped outside the gates of our driveway, eager for a picture of Marcus’s Jaybird. There aren’t many photos of Jay floating around; Marcus and I did a pretty good job of keeping her out of the camera’s eye.
Maybe a walk on the beach might be nice.
Lucas, Grace, and I head upstairs to Jay’s room. He opens the door and we’re met with darkness because Jay has her blackout blinds drawn.
Lucas and Grace make their way to Jay’s bedside. Bass appears out of nowhere and follows me into her room as I move to open the blinds.
“Jay,” Lucas says quietly as he perches on the edge of her bed.
She gives him a muffled “Hmm.”
“Come on, little sis, you need to wake up and move around. You’ve been in this bed for a week. Get up. Grace brought you something to eat.”
Grace sets the plate on the nightstand and waits with her hands clasped in front of her.
“Not hungry,” Jay mumbles into her pillow. “Too tired.”
“Come on, Jay.” He grabs the corner of her comforter and tosses it back.
I gasp at the sight of my child curled up in the fetal position. The ridges of her spine are visible through her tank top. Jay has always been thin, but this is a clear sign something is really wrong. Something I’ve missed.
Lucas stands from the bed, shocked as he stumbles out of the way. Pushing past him, I drop down on the edge of the bed and carefully roll her over to her back. Dark circles line the underside of her eyes, and her cheeks are sunken in.
“Oh, baby girl, what have you done to yourself?” I burst into tears as I cup her pale face. “Oh my God. This is all my fault.”
“It’s not your fault, Em,” Bass whispers.
“It is!” I shoot him a teary glare. “She’s my daughter. I should’ve been paying attention. Oh, baby.” I brush the hair away from her face and kiss her cheek. “I’m so sorry.” Standing from the bed, I grab Jay’s cell phone from the nightstand, type in her password, search for Dr. Ramos’s personal cell and hit Call. “I’m calling Dr. Ramos.”
Bass sits on the edge of the bed and pulls Jay into his lap. “Princess?” He brushes her hair from her face. “I need you to open your eyes and look at me.”
“No, B, it hurts,” she whimpers softly.
“What hurts, Princess?”
“Everything.”
I slap a hand over my mouth to muffle my cries and rush out to the hallway.
“Jayla?” Dr. Ramos answers, her voice laced with concern.
“It’s Emerson,” I croak. “I need your help.”
“She claims she wasn’t hurting herself on purpose,” Dr. Ramos informs me.
“Do you believe her?”
“It doesn’t matter what I believe.” She taps her pen on her desk. “I’m putting her under observation for seventy-two hours.”
“Why?”
�
�Whether it was deliberate or an accident, she still inflicted harm on herself.”
“Please. I need to see her, Dr. Ramos.”
She leans back in her chair and considers me. “I’m sorry, Emerson, but I can’t. I think you should take this time for yourself to grieve properly.”
“I’ve been grieving for the past two years. Trust me, I’m all grieved out.”
“I don’t believe that. I’ve spent time with your family.” It’s true. Dr. Ramos came highly recommended and worked with our family through Marcus’s illness. It’s because of her that I was able to get through the last eighteen months.
She leans forward and props her elbows on her desk. “I’ve seen what you’ve been through. The sacrifices you’ve made for Marcus and Jayla. You’re one of the most selfless people I’ve ever met in my entire career, and definitely the most stubborn. Frankly, I’m a bit in awe of you. That said, you should know that I’m here for you, too.”
“Thank you. I appreciate the offer, but I’m fine.” I lean back in my chair and cross my arms over my chest. “Just focus on helping my daughter.”
She stands and rounds her desk. “She’s in good hands here. Go home and get some rest. I’ll be in touch.”
Emerson
“How bad?” Max asks in a low but firm tone. I had originally called my mother to tell her about Jay, but she got hysterical and hung up on me. I knew my father was likely in the middle of trying to calm her down, so I called Max.
“Pretty bad,” I tell him. “She’s lost eighteen pounds.”
“Christ, Emerson!” he hisses.
“I know, okay?” I roll my teary eyes. “This is my fault. I shouldn’t have left her alone.”
“It’s not your fault, but you should’ve let us take her. She needs her family—”
“I am her family!” I snap. “Bass and Grace are her family, too.”
“I know they’re her family, too. That’s not what I meant—”
“I know exactly what you meant. Can’t you just be my brother for a minute instead of picking a fight with me?”
“I’m not picking a fight with you—”
“It’s no secret that you don’t agree with how Marcus and I chose to raise our daughter.” Now I’m the one picking the fight.
“I’m not telling you how to raise your daughter. You know my opinion on that subject. However, she is my niece, and I want what’s best for her.”
“So you think you know what’s best for my daughter?”
“Em—”
“You have no idea what I’m going through.”
“Will you shut the fuck up for a minute and let me talk?”
“No, because all you’re gonna do is tell me what I should’ve done so this wouldn’t have happened. Am I right?”
“Em, I love you, but I can’t fuckin’ deal with you right now. Where’s Bass?”
I toss my phone to Bass and storm out the back door for some air. I needed someone to take out my frustrations on, and Max was my target. Everything I said was true. I know how Max feels about the way Marcus and I raised Jay; we all just chose to dance around the subject because at the end of the day, it’s none of his business.
A few minutes later. Bass appears and hands over my phone. “Your parents are on the way.”
I nod. “Thanks.”
“What was that outburst all about?” Bass throws his arm around my shoulders.
“Max has been waiting for a chance to say ‘I told you so,’ and today is not the day. I’m not in the mood for his high-and-mighty bullshit,” I huff.
“That’s your guilt talking, girl. No one is blaming you for what happened, so you need to stop blaming yourself.”
My phone vibrates in my hand and Alex’s name appears on the screen. Tears fill my eyes as I tap the green Answer button and bring the phone to my ear. “Hi, Alex.”
“Look at her go, Em. That’s right, baby girl. Come to Daddy.”
“Don’t let her fall, Marcus.”
“Never. My little Jaybird is gonna fly.” He lifted her over his head and she squealed. “Wanna go to Mommy?” He set her back on the floor and held her hands until she was steady on her feet before letting her go. “Go to Mommy.”
“Come to Mommy, Jay.” I extended my arms and cooed, “Come on, baby.”
She let out another excited squeal as she hobbled toward me on wobbly legs.
“Em, she’s gonna—”
Jay’s head hit the floor a split second before I snatched her up. A moment later, she let out a high-pitched scream. Marcus was at my side as I cradled her head and rocked her from side to side. But she wouldn’t stop crying.
“Let me try.” Marcus held out his hands. “Come here.” Jay didn’t even hesitate as she practically threw herself into Marcus’s arms and instantly stopped crying.
She didn’t want anything to do with me.
Because I didn’t catch her.
I let her fall.
I jerk awake to a dark room illuminated by the moonlight pouring through the windows. Instinctively, I look over at Marcus’s side of the bed, finding it empty. He’s gone. Grabbing my cell from the nightstand, I press the Home button to check the time; 1:00 a.m.
Tossing the covers back, I sit up, planting my feet on the floor, and realize I’m still wearing the same clothes from yesterday.
I feel defeated. My body is weak. My mouth is dry, my eyes are on fire, and my chest is raw from all the crying I’ve done in the last ten hours.
My thoughts immediately go to Jay, and I wonder what she’s doing right now. If she’s okay. Is she comfortable? Sleeping? Is she lying there awake, wondering if I put her there? Is she crying out for me? Is she crying out for Marcus? Does she have something to read? She loves to read on her iPad. Maybe I could take it to her tomorrow.
It is tomorrow.
She’s probably scared out of her mind. That thought alone brings a fresh wave of tears to my eyes.
I can’t help but feel like I’ve let her down. That I let Marcus down. I promised him she would be okay. I promised him I would take care of her.
She needed me.
I was right there.
And I let her fall.
“I had a feeling I’d find you out here.” I plop down in the sand beside Alex and look out into the dark water, the waves slamming against the shore.
When he called earlier, he insisted on coming with my parents. I didn’t argue. He was right to be worried about Jay, and I should’ve picked up on that.
“Can’t sleep,” he replies.
“Same.” I blow out a breath. “It’s after midnight. Happy birthday.” I lean to the side and bump my shoulder against his.
Alex snorts softly. “Happy birthday to you, too.”
Yes, Alex and I share a birthday. Marcus was extremely fascinated by that fact.
“It’s official. I’m a forty-year-old widow.”
Without looking over, Alex passes me the joint pinched between his fingers and leans back on his hands before exhaling a cloud of smoke. I guess this is becoming our thing.
My heart aches for Alex. His mother raised him in a normal family environment, and nearly two years into being a part of our family, he’s experienced so much heartbreak and disappointment. Meeting your biological father only to find out your time with him is limited is a mindfuck.
“You know Marcus wouldn’t have approved of this,” I tell him as I take a drag. “He hated drugs of any kind, and he hardly drank. His parents were drug addicts. He claimed they never abused him, just forgot he existed.” I snort a disgusted laugh. “Neglecting your child is still abuse. I had to fight him most of the time just to take something for a headache. And when the doctors suggested he try medical marijuana for the pain, he flat-out refused.” I shake my head. “I filled the prescription anyway. I sat down beside him on the bed, rolled a joint—I was terrible at it, by the way—and then I lit it up.” I smile sadly. “He was so angry with me at first. But then after the first drag, he realized he was in control
. That he wasn’t an addict, he was sick.”
Alex nods but doesn’t look at me.
“Alex?” He finally turns his face to me, and even in the moonlight I can see his worried expression. “She’s going to be okay.”
“Will she?” he asks with a hint of anger in his tone. But judging by the shakiness of his voice, he’s not angry, he’s scared.
I don’t blame him. Jay is his little sister and his only connection to Marcus.
Inhaling a deep breath, I turn my gaze to the ocean and exhale. “She will.” She has to be. “As much as I’d like to jump in my car, drive over to the wellness center and demand to see her—to bring her home—I trust Dr. Ramos.”
He sighs. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. She needs more help than any of us can give her. I think you did the right thing by keeping her in California.” He passes me the joint.
“I appreciate that. Even if Jay had agreed to go home with my family, she wouldn’t have made it a week before she was begging to come back. This is her home and where she feels close to Marcus.”
“True.” He nods again.
“You know that stuff is just a Band-Aid, right?” Bass says, startling us both before taking a seat beside me on the sand.
“You’re not allowed to judge me, B.” I bring the joint to my lips and take another drag.
Bass raises a brow.
“What?” I croak.
“Puff, puff, pass, motherfucker. Damn.”
I exhale a laugh and a cloud of smoke followed by a cough as I pass it over to Bass.
“So this is where the party is.” My mother’s voice echoes from behind us before she circles around to stand in front of us.
“Mother, what are you doing up?”
“I couldn’t sleep. I’m worried about my baby girl.” She drops down in the sand, legs crossed. “Guess I’m not the only one.” She sniffs the air, then looks over at Bass. “Is that marijuana?”
Bass gives me the side eye. “Um….”
She tsks. “Well, are you gonna share?”
I choke out a laugh as Bass passes her the joint. “Mother, what are you doing? You don’t smoke pot.”