Everything I Want

by MacMillan, Jerica

  He leans back in his seat, his posture relaxing as he nods. “Yes. A visitation schedule is a good idea.” He lifts a hand and gestures at where she’s running across the floor to the giant chalkboard taking up half of one wall. “She seems happy and healthy. I don’t want to interfere. I just want to get to know her.”

  Nodding, I pull out the package of wipes from my bag and set it on the table, prepared for when she comes back and wants to eat some more. No need to eat chalk along with a burger and fries.

  “Okay.” I refocus on my phone. “You mentioned that you still have two more weeks before this leg of your tour ends. When are you going to be back in town?”

  Aaron pulls his own phone out of his jacket pocket and sets it on the table in front of him. “Our last show is on the twenty-first. I’ll probably be back by the twenty-third.”

  I raise my eyes, but all I can see is the top of his navy blue ball cap. “Just in time for Christmas, huh?”

  He glances up, a quick flash of his eyes under the low bill. “Yeah. I hadn’t planned on coming home, since I prefer to decompress after being on the road, but my Mom will probably be happy. Although …”

  “Although what? Why wouldn’t she be happy to have you for Christmas?”

  His lips compress before he drops his head, giving me the top of his hat again. “I haven’t told her about Maddie yet. My mom will want to know why the sudden change of plans. I’m not sure how she’ll react to finding out she has a four-year-old granddaughter she’s never met.”

  “Oh,” I say quietly, wishing I hadn’t pushed. The tension between us had started to ease, our mutual willingness to cooperate paving the way for at least something workable, even if we can’t be anything to each other like we used to be. Not that I’d want that, anyway. At least that’s what I tell myself. I don’t have time for romance right now. Between work and taking care of Maddie, I barely have time for my poor excuse for a social life as it is. Trying to add a serious relationship on top of that is just setting myself up for heartbreak.

  I tried once. A couple years ago, thinking something casual might be a fun stress reliever. But it wasn’t worth the hassle and frustration. Not to mention that none of the guys measured up to Aaron.

  But even if I were willing to admit to myself that I’ve never stopped loving Aaron, that the reason seeing him is so painful is because I’ve never gotten over him, that doesn’t change the fact that by keeping Maddie a secret has effectively destroyed any chance we might’ve ever had at getting together again.

  It’s for the best, really.

  He’s a famous rockstar now.

  If I can’t even make room in my life for an accountant with a predictable schedule, how would I fit in someone like Aaron, who’s on the road for months at a time, in a different city every week, unpredictable and unreliable?

  It’s one thing to make time for Maddie to get to know him—he is her father after all. They both have the right to a relationship, especially since it’s clear he wants one. But me?

  No. There’s no point in even entertaining the possibility, no matter how remote it might be.

  With that thought pounding into my skull, I check the time on my phone. We’ve been here for almost an hour. I shift in my seat, not sure how much longer Aaron will want to stay.

  “Do you have somewhere to be?” he asks.

  I bite my lip and shake my head. “No. I was just wondering how long you want to stay.”

  He studies me without speaking for a long moment. “I had hoped to get to know Maddie”—again with the slight hesitation on her name—“but that doesn’t seem possible here.”

  “Sorry,” I say reflexively. “I didn’t know—”

  “You said that already.” His jaw clenches, and he looks away. His shoulders rise and fall as he takes a deep breath before refocusing on me. “You obviously don’t want to be here. With me. I get it. I’ll go. For now. I’ll text you to schedule our next visit.” He pushes the bill of his cap higher on his forehead so that his steely eyes can pierce my soul. “And next time, I want her to know that I’m her dad, not just some old friend of yours. And I want to spend time with her. Not watching from the sidelines while she plays at McDonald’s. If you don’t want me at your house, fine. She can come to me.”

  I stiffen in my seat. “If you think I’m just going to drop her off with some stranger—”

  “I’m only a stranger because of you,” he cuts in. “And no. I didn’t say I expected you to drop her off with me. Certainly not the first time. You can come too, if you want. At least to start with until she’s comfortable with me and I’m not a stranger anymore.”

  Swallowing down my shame and irritation, I force a nod. “Okay.”

  He stares at me for another beat. “Call her over so I can say goodbye. Please.” It’s phrased as a command more than a request, but it’s uttered softly, a hint of a plea in his voice. Even if the please was added as an afterthought.

  “Maddie!” I call.

  “What?” comes her muffled voice from the plastic tubing above our heads.

  “It’s going to be time to go in five minutes. But my friend needs to leave now. Do you want to say goodbye?”

  Thumps and swishes sound from the tube, and then she comes rocketing out of the twisty slide, her face crumpled. “Noooo,” she wails. “Why do we hafta go? Why does your friend hafta gooo?” She covers her face with her hands and crumples over. I scoot over and she hitches her arms around me, clutching me.

  Rubbing her back in soothing circles, I lean down. “I know you’re sad. It’s okay. But Aaron needs to go. We’ll see him again in a few weeks, though, okay?”

  She looks up, hope breaking through her tear stained expression. “We will?”

  I nod and give a small smile. “We will.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Aaron

  The early December sunshine dazzles my eyes as I push through the door to the parking lot, but at least it gives me an excuse to duck my head and pull my hat lower over my eyes and avoid coming face-to-face with the people on their way in.

  I actually don’t get recognized very often when I’m out in public. Not as much as Marcus. Or even Danny, who’s had more exposure in the tabloids between the whole thing with Eli’s mom and then the blow up with Ava a few months ago where they got ahold of her pregnancy test and published pictures everywhere. But it’s always possible that someone will recognize me, and I’m not in the mood to play nice and take selfies with strangers right now.

  Not after meeting my daughter for the first time.

  My daughter.

  Fuck me sideways. I still can’t really wrap my brain around it.

  She’s cute and chatty and overflowing with energy.

  When Sam got her to calm down, she flung herself at me for a big hug, even though she spent only a few minutes talking to me. She attached herself to me like I’m her new best friend. Then she tugged on my jacket till I brought my head down to hers and gave me a big wet kiss on the cheek.

  It was cute. Endearing. And I felt the same way I do when Eli hugs me or gives me a high five. Warm. Affectionate.

  But that’s it.

  Since she’s my kid, shouldn’t I feel something … more?

  Shaking my head, I climb into my rental car and drive back to the hotel, reliving the encounter the whole way.

  I head to Blaire’s room to give her the keys to the car so she can have it returned. The door is propped open, which is normal for her when she’s orchestrating our leave for the next stop, and I knock on it before pushing it open.

  She looks up from her iPad expectantly, and something flashes across her face when she sees it’s me. “Hey. How’d it go?” Closing the iPad cover, she sets it on the desk next to her.

  After dropping the car key on the desk too, I turn and flop back on her bed, making myself comfortable. “Weird.”

  She crawls next to me, curling into my side and resting her head on my shoulder. I wrap my arm around her, accepting the comfort
of her body, glad for someone to talk to about this. “Weird how?” she asks softly.

  I place my other hand behind my head, replaying everything again. “How wasn’t it weird? Seeing Sam again is weird enough on its own. Last night I thought it was a good kind of weird. I was happy to see her again. But then …” I trail off, suddenly feeling uncomfortable about the fact that I kissed Sam last night and was plotting how to get together with her again while I’m lying here holding my friend with benefits curled into my side. But it’s not like anything more is going to happen with Sam. Not after …

  “Then you found out she’s been lying to you for years,” Blaire fills in, her hand resting on my chest.

  I blink, realizing she’s finishing my unfinished sentence, not the half-formed thought in my mind. “Yeah. And now I have a kid, a daughter, and …” I swallow and shake my head. “I don’t know what to think. How to feel. What life is supposed to look like now.”

  “Makes sense,” she says after a long moment. “I’m not sure I’d know how to react in your shoes either.” We’re both quiet, and I’m lost in my own thoughts, reliving Maddie singing and smiling and talking to me, and calling me Mommy’s friend. That still makes me grit my teeth in annoyance. Sam and I were never just friends. And I’m far more to Maddie than her mom’s friend.

  “Did you get the DNA sample?” Blaire asks, disrupting the loop of frustration and anger I’m starting on again.

  “I gave her the test kit with the return envelope. She took it and said she’d take care of it.”

  Blaire sits up and looks down at me, her brows drawn and her lips pinched. “Are you serious? That’s not what I told you to do.”

  I raise my brows at her, angry at her annoyance, as though I don’t have enough to be pissed off about right now. I don’t need Blaire treating me like an idiot on top of everything. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware that I took orders from you.”

  Her nostrils flare in irritation. “How do you know she’ll actually do it? It’s voluntary. There’s no guarantee she’ll give you a swab.”

  Propping myself on my elbows, I take in Blaire’s fiery expression, too blinded by my own frustration to figure out what’s really behind it. But I’ve worked with Blaire long enough to know that having her pissed at me won’t make my life any easier. Sighing, I run my hand up her arm, hoping to calm her down. “Sam’s not like that, Blaire. She’ll turn in the swab. But we were in a public place, Maddie was playing, there was no need to traumatize the kid like that.”

  Blaire yanks her arm away and points at me. “Are you really that naive? Of course she’ll turn in the swab. That’s how she gets her payday.”

  What? I sit all the way up, scrubbing a hand over my face as I try to keep a lid on my frustration, completely flummoxed. “Just a second ago you said you didn’t think she’d turn in the swab and now you’re saying of course she will so she can get paid?” I shake my head. “Sam’s not like that anyway. She made it clear she didn’t want my money.”

  Standing, Blaire throws her hands out to the side. “And you believe her?”

  Holding my breath, I study her carefully, not moving from my place in the bed. While Blaire isn’t one to keep her emotions hidden, this kind of outburst isn’t like her. Not without provocation. “I do. I have no reason not to.”

  She snorts and crosses her arms. “Sure. And lying to you for the last four or five years about the fact that you have a kid is definitely a great way to build trust.”

  “Hey.” I get off the bed and put my hands on her shoulders. “What’s going on with you? Why are you so upset about this? I’m beyond pissed, but I’m the one that’s been wronged here. Not you.”

  She lets me pull her close, burying her face in my chest, her arms still crossed between us. I feel her shaking her head against me. “I just hate when anyone comes after my boys. It was bad enough with Danny. But now you?” Her hands come out and clutch my shirt. “You’re more mine than Danny ever was. I don’t want anyone taking you away from me.”

  I study her face, not quite sure to make of this possessiveness. Kissing her forehead, I give her a squeeze, rubbing her back. “Hey. No one’s taking me anywhere. I can’t say that nothing will change, because obviously it will. I don’t know what that means or what it’ll look like yet, but we’ll all have to figure it out together. Danny made it work with Eli and now he has Ava. I’ll get my shit figured out too. And I mean, if you think about it, my situation is better than what went down with Danny. I promise you that Sam’s not after me for money. If she were, she would’ve come out of the woodwork last year or even the year before. Why wait until now? It was all a fluke that we ended up seeing each other again, and I think she couldn’t handle keeping it a secret when we were in the same room after all these years. Maybe she feels guilty.” I pause, considering that. Maybe. I don’t know, though. She hasn’t seemed like she feels guilty in any of our interactions.

  But that seems to be what Blaire needs to hear. She lifts her face and looks up at me. “You’re probably right. I’m sorry for overreacting.” Wrapping her arms around me, she gives me a quick hug, then brushes her lips across mine before stepping back. Her normal brusque take-no-prisoners-and-get-shit-done expression is back in place. “I need to get back to work. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do to help you.”

  “Just make sure the PR team knows what’s going on so they can help us figure out how to stay on top of this. I don’t want a media shitstorm like Danny got when that groupie got pregnant. And then again about Ava. We need to figure out how to control this one. But I don’t want to release anything until Sam and I have more of a chance to work out the details.”

  Nodding, Blaire picks up her iPad. “Got it. I’ll have them put together some sample releases and you can decide which direction you want to go in.” She spears me with a look. “But no more public meetings if you want to keep a lid on this.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She shoots me a smirk. “Thanks for bringing back the car key. Now shoo. I have too much work to do to keep you entertained.”

  With a wave, I leave and head for my own room to finish packing. While nothing is any more settled, talking with Blaire at least helped me work through some of this.

  Maybe I don’t feel anything special for Maddie yet. The fact is that she’s mine. I’m her dad. And she hasn’t had one in her life this whole time. Defending Sam to Blaire made me realize that, more than anything, I want to be there for her the way I haven’t been able to.

  And Sam …

  My feelings for Sam are less clear.

  When I saw her last night, I saw the possibility of a second chance. We only broke up because we were going different places. Her showing up felt like fate. Kismet.

  But then …

  Then she dropped her bomb and everything exploded.

  Now?

  I don’t know how to feel. What to think.

  I never stopped caring about her. Always wondered if she pursued her dreams, if she’s still writing. I honestly always assumed she did all that and set new goals and was off to accomplish those. Because that’s how she was when I knew her. She’d set a course and wouldn’t let anything deviate her from her path.

  That’s why the unintended pregnancy was such a blow to both of us. We had these plans, these dreams, these expectations. And then we were faced with a choice—continue on our chosen paths or deviate and follow this new one?

  I thought we’d chosen to stick to our respective plans.

  And now I’ve found out she chose differently.

  And left me out.

  Why, though?

  Yeah, she said it was because she didn’t want to change my life without my say-so. But is that all there is to it? The conversation we had that Christmas after my first semester at Juilliard flashes through my mind.

  “Hey! I’m back in town. Are you home yet? We should get together for dinner or coffee or something. We haven’t talked in ages. I miss you.”

  Her hesi
tation is palpable. “Um, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  Her words stop me dead. “Wait, what? Seriously? Why not?”

  Another long pause. “I, um, I met someone. And he’s kind of the jealous type. He wouldn’t like it if he knew I had dinner with my ex boyfriend.”

  At first I chuckle, thinking she’s making some kind of joke. But when she doesn’t laugh with me, I clue into the fact that she’s serious. “Not even as friends? I know we’re not together anymore. But I thought we were supposed to stay friends.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I just don’t think I can do that. I have to go. Please don’t call me anymore.” Her voice is choked with tears, but I don’t get the chance to say anything before she hangs up. I’m left staring at the screen of my phone, shell-shocked, unsure what to make of what just happened.

  Blinking, I come back to the present. She would’ve been—I do a quick calculation—about four months pregnant then. She didn’t want to see me because she didn’t want me to know. Was she showing already? Ava’s about five months pregnant right now and she has a tiny little bump. Maybe Sam was showing already at that point. Or maybe she was worried that she’d actually tell me if she saw me in person, that it was easier to keep her secret if she only communicated with me through emails and texts and rare phone calls.

  Not that we talked again after that. I’d respected her request, not wanting to make trouble with her new boyfriend, even though the fact that she’d be with someone who would try to control her like that ate at me.

  Shaking my head, I focus on packing my clothes. At least now I know the truth. And I can make things right with my daughter, even if it’s not my fault that everything’s as fucked up as it is.

  Chapter Twelve

  Samantha

  Kyle and I slide onto the tall chairs at a high top table, accepting the menus from the hostess at the sports bar across from the doctor’s office where we work.