My Own Personal Rockstar

by Kirsty McManus

“How soon can you do that?”

  “Really? You’re going to insist on the test because of some selfish cow in your past?” Millicent spits.

  “Miss, that’s not really helping. I think I need to talk to Lincoln alone. I didn’t know he was coming over when I invited you around before. Maybe I can go to your place later?”

  She gives Lincoln the stink-eye. “If you even so much as think of making my friend cry, I will kill you.”

  He smiles weakly at Millicent. “You’re a good friend, Miss. I will do my best, but I agree with Tash. We need to sort this out, just the two of us.”

  “Okay.” She does the I’ve-got-my-eye-on-you gesture to Lincoln and then the call-me-later fingers to me. I nod and watch her leave.

  When it’s just the two of us, I sigh. “I’m so sorry, Lincoln. I don’t know what to do.”

  “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out. And I know it’s really uncool to keep bringing it up, but I really couldn’t handle it if this baby wasn’t mine.”

  I make a decision.

  “You know what? I appreciate where you’re coming from, but even once you know it’s yours, I don’t expect anything from you.” I get out my phone and type into Google. “I can get a paternity test done in about four weeks, so I’ll book it just so you know for sure. I have nothing to hide. And in the meantime, maybe we both need some space to come to terms with it.”

  He looks at me and I can see tears in his eyes. He comes over and wraps his arms around me. “You want space?”

  “It’s probably for the best.”

  I’m only saying that because I don’t want to look clingy—and I want him to want me on his terms. I don’t tell him that having him reject me after already being rejected by Daisy’s father would absolutely ruin me. It wouldn’t serve any purpose other than to make him even more upset.

  But I don’t know how I’d feel if he completely shut me out until he got the results of the paternity test. It would mean he never really trusted me, and then I’m not sure I could have him in my life after that.

  He kisses my forehead and stands up.

  “Okay. I’ll go. But I’m not abandoning you.”

  I swallow a lump in my throat.

  We’ll see.

  ***

  I don’t really feel like seeing anyone after Lincoln leaves, but Millicent texts me and orders me to go to her place.

  There are still a few hours before I have to pick up Daisy, and I know I won’t be able to concentrate on work today, so I drive over to her apartment in Bardon.

  She hands me what looks like an elaborate cocktail when I walk in the door.

  “Miss, you know I can’t drink right now…”

  “It’s a mocktail,” she says cutting me off. “I’m not silly.”

  I gratefully take it from her, and we sit on her couch in the living room. I point to a glass on her coffee table that looks like it contains the same drink. “Does that one have alcohol in it?”

  “No, I’m not a big fan of day drinking. It makes me sleepy.”

  I smile, despite the cyclone of emotions competing for attention in my brain. “So, if it didn’t make you sleepy, you’d be permanently drunk?”

  “Maybe. Although, work does frown upon being hammered while I’m hacking into secret government accounts. And I do have a son I have to pick up from school later. But enough about me, we have to talk about you!”

  “I don’t even know what to say.”

  “How did you manage to get pregnant? Didn’t you only sleep with Lincoln the one time?”

  “Yep.”

  “And you decided to skip birth control?”

  “No! We used a condom. But obviously it failed.”

  “Obviously. How did it go with Lincoln after I left?”

  “I asked him to give me some space.”

  “Is that what you wanted?”

  “Not really. But I didn’t want him to feel trapped. He has to decide if he wants to be part of this on his own.”

  She shakes her head. “While I sort of get that logic, I think you need to tell him how you really feel.” She takes a sip of her drink. “Man, who would have thought when you were watching Sing to Me back in April that you’d now be carrying the child of one of its contestants?”

  “Oh God. This is surreal. I can’t be pregnant with Lincoln Page’s baby!”

  “Forget about the fact that he’s a rockstar for a second and tell me how you feel about Lincoln, the person.”

  “I really, really like him, Miss.”

  “Do you love him?”

  “I don’t know. Until recently, this was all just a fantasy. I don’t know him well enough yet.”

  “I guess the only way to figure it out is to actually spend some time with the guy.”

  “But I just sent him away!”

  “I understand why you did, but I’m not sure it will make things any easier.”

  “I guess I’ll give him a couple of weeks to make the first move. And if he waits until after I get the paternity test results, I’ll know my answer.”

  She gives me a troubled look. “I hope that doesn’t happen. But either way, I’m here for you, babe. As are your parents.”

  “We’ll have to wait and see about my parents. I haven’t told them yet. I can’t imagine what they’d think if I ended up being a single mother with two children to different fathers. You know my mum is kind of old-school.”

  “She still loves you, so I know she will help. But if you need moral support when you go visit, I’ll come with you.”

  I give her a tight hug. “Thanks, hon. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “Right back ‘atcha. I’m actually surprised you’re the one with the unexpected pregnancy. I always thought it would be me.”

  “There’s still time,” I joke.

  “Easy there, babe. One new little creature in our lives is going to keep us very busy for a while. Besides, I’ve only had a few dates with Constantinos. He might not appreciate me talking about us having babies just yet.”

  “Oh, crap! I’ve been so wrapped up in my own stuff, I forgot to ask how it’s going with him!”

  She smiles goofily. “Actually, he’s really sweet. I’ll introduce you guys soon.”

  “I’m so glad you’ve found someone nice!”

  “Me, too. So, maybe we both finally struck it lucky.”

  I gaze out the window. I hope that’s true and Lincoln turns out to be the guy I thought he was.

  And if not, am I strong enough to do this all over again on my own?

  I guess I might not have a choice.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Lincoln

  Bloody hell. Tash is pregnant? And I’m the father? How did that even happen? I wasn’t drunk that night in Sydney, and I remember using a condom. I know they’re not one hundred percent infallible, but still.

  I leave Tash’s house in shock. What I thought was going to be a slow and hopeful reunion turned into a nuclear explosion.

  As I drive home, I think about our conversation. She wants space. And she made it clear I wasn’t needed as part of her life. But did she mean it? Or was she just saying it because she didn’t want to impact my already-complicated situation?

  One thing is for sure. I am not abandoning that woman. But I have to sort out something with the twins. I call Carter.

  “Hey, I’m back from my tour so I can start organising the house sale. Any news from Rachel?”

  “I’m afraid not. Her lawyer is stalling.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. Probably hoping you’ll just give up.”

  “I’m never going to give up. Is there anything you can do to speed things along?”

  “I’m trying. But with Rachel out of the country, her lawyer is using the difficulties of communicating in different time zones as an excuse to drag things out.”

  “Please see if you can get some sort of resolution in writing in the next few weeks.”

  “Will do.”

  I hang
up, frustrated. That’s it. There’s no more time for messing around. If I’m about to have another child, I need to make sure I can also still see my first two.

  And if Rachel and her lawyer are using the time difference as an excuse, I’m going to call their bluff and fly to the UK.

  I book a flight to leave tomorrow and return before the end of the week. I don’t want to be away from Tash for too long, especially considering she thought I abandoned her before. It’s going to be exhausting, but I did just spend two months on the road. What’s another few days?

  And I would endure anything to see my girls again.

  Since Tash told me she wanted space, I figure I’ll contact her next week. Hopefully, that’s enough time for her. Because I can’t be away from her for longer than that.

  ***

  After a ridiculous amount of time in the air, and a brief stop in Singapore, I finally reach Heathrow at around lunchtime London time. It’s nine hours later in Brisbane, which is really going to mess with my body clock. I didn’t sleep much on the plane, but the idea that I might be about to see my girls again keeps me going.

  I’ve only visited Rachel’s parents once, and that was on the trip when the twins were conceived with another man. As my Uber pulls up in their driveway, my stomach churns. It’s almost more than I can take.

  I nervously walk up the driveway and stand at the front door. After a few deep breaths to calm my nerves, I knock.

  No one answers. I can hear a TV playing loudly inside, so I knock a bit harder.

  Finally, I make out the sound of footsteps walking down a hall, and the door opens.

  It’s Rachel’s mum. She stands there, staring at me for a moment. “What do you want?”

  “Are the girls here?” I ask.

  “Nope.”

  I’m not sure what Rachel told her mum happened, but she’s not acting as if I’m blameless here.

  “Can you tell me where they are?”

  “Why do you want to know? From what I’ve heard, you haven’t been a good provider for quite some time.”

  Ah. So, that’s the angle Rachel’s playing. I wonder if she told her mother anything else.

  “I’m sorry she felt that way, but I did the best I could. I haven’t seen my daughters in several months and I would be really grateful if you could tell me where they are.”

  She doesn’t say anything, continuing to look me up and down. Eventually, she sighs. “Rachel rented a place in Notting Hill. I’ll just go get the address.”

  “Thank you.”

  I stand on the doorstep waiting while Rachel’s mother takes her time.

  When she returns, she hands me a slip of paper with the details on it. She looks conflicted for a moment before seeming to decide something. “Rachel’s my daughter, so my loyalty is to her, but I respect any man who flies halfway around the world to see a couple of girls who aren’t his own.”

  I smile gratefully. “They’ll always be mine, regardless of their DNA.”

  She looks out at the street. “Do you have a rental car?”

  “No. I was just going to call an Uber.”

  She picks up a keychain hanging from a hook in the hall. “Take my car. I don’t need it today. But I’d appreciate it if you brought it back in the morning.”

  I spontaneously reach out and give her a hug. She stands there stiffly before half-heartedly returning the gesture.

  “You’re very kind,” I say.

  For the first time since she opened the door, she smiles. “Off you go.”

  I carry my bags over to the car, wondering if this is a sign that my visit won’t be as difficult as I thought.

  I sure hope so.

  ***

  I drive over to the address in Notting Hill, using my phone’s GPS to guide me. It turns out Rachel lives in a terrace house, all traditional brick and white rendering. The street is clean, and her place has a blue door, just like in the movie with Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts. Rachel often used to make me watch rom-coms with her, and I’ll bet she picked this place specifically because of its location and appearance. I wouldn’t have thought it was a cheap area to reside, though, so I don’t know how she can afford it.

  I knock. It takes a moment for Rachel to come to the door, but when she does, the girls are right behind her, squealing in excitement. I instinctively bend down to greet them, ignoring Rachel for the moment. The girls are my priority.

  “Daddy! We missed you so much!”

  Oh God. I can’t handle this. I feel my eyes welling up. Being able to hug them and give them piggyback rides is something I’ve missed more than anything.

  I wrap an arm around each one and squeeze them tight. “I missed you two munchkins as well.”

  Rachel clearly knew I was coming because she doesn’t act remotely surprised by my presence.

  “Mum told me you were in London,” she says as if reading my mind.

  “Thank you for not going out.”

  She shrugs. “If we’d had plans, we would have.”

  I force myself not to show how frustrated I am with her. “Would it be okay if I came in for a bit?”

  She stands aside and lets me through. I walk down a narrow hall and come out in a chaotic living room. Rachel was never big on cleaning, so I used to do most of it. If my time here wasn’t so limited, I would ask to do a quick tidy-up.

  “Are you well?” I ask politely as I sit down on the couch, clearing a pile of dolls in the process. The girls immediately jump on top of me and cling tightly.

  “I’m all right,” she says equally neutrally.

  “How are you finding settling in? Are you working?”

  She looks down her nose at me. “How am I supposed to work, huh? I have two three-year-olds to look after.”

  “I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just wondering how you were getting by. And you mentioned on the phone that the girls were going to pre-school.”

  “If you must know, Henry owns this place and is letting me and the girls live here.”

  “Is Henry the girls’ biological father?”

  She nods.

  “Does he live here, too?”

  “God, no.” She wrinkles her nose. “The guy has let himself go completely in the last few years. But he has no choice. He has to provide for the girls.”

  I simultaneously feel sorry for Henry and intense dislike for the woman in front of me. I wonder if Henry even knew I existed when he slept with Rachel back then.

  I know I’m not going to get anywhere by saying what I really think, so I take a moment to formulate my next words.

  “My lawyer said your lawyer is taking a bit longer than usual to process our settlement. I was hoping that by coming here and seeing you in person, we could find a resolution that works for everyone.”

  “I’ve already explained what I want.”

  “But please, Rachel, you know I can’t accept one weekend a year. It’s not fair to the girls or me.”

  “Why do you want to see them? I thought you’d be glad to be rid of them.”

  My eyes widen, and I look down at the beautiful creatures snuggled into each of my arms. “Hey, munchkins, would it be okay if your mummy and I had a quick chat alone? And then I promise I’ll spend the rest of the day with you.”

  They reluctantly pull away. “Promise?” Isabella asks.

  “Promise,” I say.

  They wander off, and I frown at Rachel. “I hope you haven’t been telling them I don’t want to see them.”

  “I haven’t told them anything.”

  “Have they asked where I am?”

  “I just told them you’re busy with work.”

  “Why would you think I’d be glad to be rid of them?”

  “Because they’re not yours. They’re not your responsibility anymore.”

  “But they are. You made them my responsibility by lying to me for four years! And regardless of the circumstances, I still love them. They’re still mine. Please, Rachel, it would kill me to never spend time with them
again.”

  I can’t help myself and start crying. Rachel looks uncomfortable, but I don’t care. She’s the one who broke me. She can deal with the fallout.

  After a moment, she holds her hands up in surrender. “Fine. We’ll figure something out.”

  I rub my hands across my face. “Thank you. I’m willing to be flexible, but I need you to be as well.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Whatever.”

  “I’m going to go and see what the girls are doing.”

  She nods.

  I stand up and go in search of the twins. I’ve completely used up all my self-restraint trying not to yell at Rachel, and now I need to have her out of my sight.

  The rest of this trip is about my daughters.

  TWENTY-SIX

  Tash

  A week goes by, and I don’t hear from Lincoln. It feels all too familiar, both from when Brad deserted me all those years ago, and also like after Lincoln disappeared following our night together. I know he had a lot to process then, with all the legal stuff, and he supposedly wrote me that text that never arrived, but this time, the situation involves me. I know I asked him for space, but I still wish he’d give me a tiny clue as to what he’s thinking.

  Everything feels so up in the air. One minute I’m convinced he’ll choose to give it all up just for the chance to see Isabella and Madison again, and the next I’m hoping he’ll realise that I’m carrying his biological child and he has a duty to talk it through. But he has competing priorities now: the twins, the possibility of expanding his music career…

  Another week begins, and my hopes fall further and further. I start considering how I can possibly care for a newborn, a six-year-old, and still keep my business afloat. I need to figure out if I can afford to hire someone to oversee everything, at least part-time.

  It’s a rainy Monday morning when I arrive home from dropping Daisy at school and find Lincoln sitting on my doorstep, dripping wet.

  I’m annoyed at myself because the first thing I think is how hot he looks, droplets of water trickling off his curls, his black T-shirt clinging to his chest.

  My pulse quickens as I approach. He stands up, looking just as nervous as I feel.

  “Hey,” he says softly.