My Own Personal Rockstar

by Kirsty McManus

  It’s 5am, so I gently tap Lincoln on the shoulder to wake him up. I still can’t believe I’m having a baby with this man.

  He rolls over, his mussed-up hair and adorable sleepy face making my heart melt.

  “I think the baby’s going to arrive today,” I whisper.

  That well and truly wakes him up. He immediately sits upright, eyes wide. “Really? You’re in labour? Have your waters broken?”

  I laugh. “No, no. I’m sure that’s still a few hours away. The contractions are super faint right now. I remember with Daisy, they started about ten hours before she actually made an appearance.”

  “Yeah, but they always say the second time is quicker. We should make sure everything’s in place. Do you want me to call your parents?”

  “Maybe let them sleep in a bit longer. We’ll get them to pick up Daisy in a couple of hours.”

  He stares at me. “How can you be so relaxed about this whole thing?”

  “Because I know we’ve got a long way to go.”

  “Can I get you something to eat or drink?”

  “A cup of tea would be nice.”

  “Okay, you stay there, I’ll be back in a moment.”

  “I don’t need to stay in bed, babe. In fact, I should probably walk around.”

  “Right, yes. Ignore me. Just do whatever feels right for you.”

  We decide not to wake Daisy up yet. Lincoln makes me the tea and then runs around the house like a madman, ensuring my hospital bag is packed and that the house is in order. I watch as he momentarily pauses at the door to the baby’s bedroom. I go over to join him, looking in. It’s all set up with a cot and blankets and a nursing chair. I can’t believe there will be another person living here within a couple of days!

  “I should tell Felix!” he says suddenly, getting out his phone.

  “Yes, you do that.” Felix is still in Sydney, but he’s planning on spending some time in Brisbane in a few months. I teased him about being an on-call babysitter once he arrived, but he was surprisingly open to the idea. I think he might even be considering the possibility of having children himself someday. He’s been dating a lovely guy called Ames for a while now, and while Felix assured me it was too early to really tell, he had high hopes for this relationship.

  “Do you want me to text Millicent?” he asks.

  “I’ve already done it. She’s going to leave for the hospital at the same time as us.”

  I want both Lincoln and Millicent present at the birth. Mum and I don’t have the kind of relationship that would suggest she’d enjoy being there, so she and Dad are going to look after Daisy and come visit once the action is over.

  We’re ready way too early, and we both sit on the couch, looking at each other with a mixture of excitement and fear.

  “This is it,” I say. “There’s no going back now.”

  “I would never go back.” He strokes my hand reassuringly.

  “Are you ready?”

  “I guess we’ll soon find out.”

  ***

  Lincoln

  Even though it was only a few years ago, I hardly remember the twins’ birth. Rachel had to have a caesarean because one of the girls was breech and it all got too complicated to attempt everything naturally. So, all I remember was being given a gown and a cap and then watching a surgeon operate on Rachel’s belly, intermittently shooting worried looks at Rachel’s face. She handled it like she does everything—with very little emotion. In hindsight, I wonder if she was terrified I’d realise immediately that the girls weren’t mine.

  But I’m not going to think about that today. This little boy is definitely mine, and he’s inside the love of my life.

  We head to the hospital around lunchtime when Tash’s contractions start making her double over. She tried to convince me we don’t need to hurry, but I told her I’d feel a lot better if we hung out at the hospital instead, just in case she’s further along than she realises.

  Millicent is waiting for us in the parking lot when we arrive, having already commandeered a wheelchair. She practically shoves Tash into it and wheels her inside.

  It’s lucky I insisted we leave home when we did, because within twenty minutes of arriving, the doctor confirms Tash is fully dilated and the baby is on its way.

  “Do you need any pain relief?” I check.

  “I think it’s a bit late for that now,” she huffs, shutting her eyes as another contraction hits.

  “What can I do?” I feel so helpless watching the mother of my child in pain.

  “Just be here.” She squeezes my hand so tightly that I fear the bones in my fingers will break. But that’s a tiny price to pay if it helps at all.

  I look over at Millicent, who is standing on the other side, also having her hand crushed. She smiles at me. I can imagine she’d much prefer that pain to what Tash is currently experiencing.

  After what seems like both no time and forever, the baby is out, and the doctor cuts the umbilical cord.

  “Here’s your little boy,” she announces. “We’ll just clean him up and you can have him back.”

  I gently let go of Tash’s hand and hover over the doctor as she weighs our child and wipes him clean. She expertly wraps him in a cute animal-print blanket and lays him on Tash’s chest.

  Millicent stays for a moment to snap a couple of photos, but then claims she needs some coffee. I appreciate the chance for us to be alone for a few moments, and stare at Tash and the baby in awe. “I guess we should figure out what we’re going to call this little dude.” We have a list, but we hadn’t decided on a particular name yet, because Tash wanted to see what he looked like first.

  She gazes down at his face. “I think he looks like an Oscar.”

  “Oscar Page,” I muse. “I like it.”

  “What about a middle name? We should choose something a bit rockstar, don’t you think?”

  I grin. “Really?”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you know my favourite band of all time,” I warn.

  “I’m fine with that,” she says, eyes twinkling.

  “If you say so.” I pick up my son and hold him close. “Welcome to the world, Oscar Zeppelin Page.”

  Life can throw you some crazy curveballs, but in my case, it’s turned out better than I could have ever imagined.

  I know from this point on, I can handle anything.

  THREE MONTHS LATER…

  Tash

  My life is insane.

  I don’t know how I thought having a newborn, a business empire, and a partner on a world tour for several months would actually be manageable. I haven’t slept for more than four hours straight since Oscar was born.

  Lincoln had arranged to have four weeks off right after the birth, but then his contract required him to go back on the road. He’s currently in Vietnam. I think. All the countries blur together after a while.

  At least I ended up hiring an assistant, a lovely guy called Marco. He’s been an absolute godsend, dealing with the dozens of emails I receive every day, and basically filtering out all the little stuff that I never realised took up so much time before. I think even when Oscar starts going to daycare, I’m going to keep him employed full-time. My meals seem to have developed a bit of a cult following thanks to a feature on a national lifestyle show, and the supermarket chain is looking to expand the range next year. At that stage, we’ll need a much bigger commercial kitchen, and I’ll probably require multiple assistants.

  Millicent has been a huge help, as has my mother, who took some time off work to come and help me with Oscar and Daisy.

  Even Felix stayed true to his word and has been helping out a little since he temporarily located to a fancy penthouse in Teneriffe.

  Daisy is in love with her little brother, and still equally besotted with Lincoln. It makes me sad that she never got to know her real dad, but Lincoln treats her exactly the same way he treats Oscar. And once the tour is over, we’ll all be able to spend more time together.

 
; I’ve seen a few houses around town that I think Lincoln will approve of. Our aim is to have a new place by Christmas, because Isabella and Madison are coming over just after New Year’s and we want to have a room for them to call their own.

  I glance at the clock. It’s 5pm on a Friday evening, and Millicent has insisted we reinstate our ritual of having a kid-free night once a month. My parents are due to arrive any minute and are going to look after Daisy and Oscar for three hours. That’s as long as I can stand being away from them at the moment.

  As if on cue, the doorbell rings.

  Mum and Dad are standing there, with Millicent impatiently bouncing around behind them. They all look way more energetic than I feel.

  “Where’s my baby boy?” Mum asks, pushing her way inside and ignoring me in the process.

  I point down the hall, while Dad wraps me up in a hug and kisses me on the forehead. “Hello, sweetheart. How are you feeling?”

  “Tired. But I appreciate you babysitting tonight.”

  “It’s no problem at all. Your mother is very excited to have an evening with her grandchildren.”

  Millicent steps forward. “We have to go, otherwise we’ll be late.”

  “For what?” Millicent had given me the impression that we were just going out for casual drinks and a bite to eat. I didn’t know we were on a schedule.

  “You’ll see,” she says mysteriously.

  I look at Dad. “Do you know anything about this?”

  “What do you mean?” he asks. My father has a terrible poker face.

  “What are you all keeping from me?”

  Millicent grabs my arm. “Nothing. Come on. Bye, Mr. Northwood. We’ll be back by eight.”

  “Take your time.”

  “I’ll be back for the 8pm feed,” I promise.

  He waves us off, and Millicent practically drags me to her car.

  “What’s the hurry?” I ask.

  “Nothing. I just want to make the most of the time we have together.”

  I know she’s lying, but I pretend to go along with her for now. “Okay. So, where are we going first?”

  “I thought maybe we’d head over to Newstead for a drink.”

  “Newstead? Has a new pub opened up over there or something?”

  “Yeah, I heard about this cool little place with personalised service.”

  “I’m intrigued.”

  We drive through the city, which isn’t particularly relaxing since it’s peak hour, but I’m still excited to be out of the house without a child glued to my chest.

  It would be even more perfect if Lincoln was around, but I know his tour will be over soon. I just have to be patient.

  We slow down out the front of the Triffid, and Millicent looks around as if confused.

  “Are we lost?” I ask.

  “No, I’m pretty sure it’s around here somewhere. We’ll park and walk the rest of the way.”

  “Whatever you think is best.”

  She points at a nearby alley. “Hey, I think I see somewhere to park, but it looks like a narrow space. Why don’t you get out now and wait here for a moment?”

  “All right.”

  I climb out of the car and go stand near the entrance to the Triffid. It’s all closed up today, but I smile as I remember the night I watched Lincoln play here. I still feel those same butterflies I experienced before we’d even kissed.

  My phone beeps. Millicent has sent me a text. Weird.

  Go knock on the door.

  I furrow my brow. Which door? The one to the Triffid? I look around, wondering what on earth is going on. Where has Millicent gone?

  I write back. Do you mean the door to the Triffid? Where are you?

  Millicent: Yes, the Triffid! I’ll be there soon.

  I look at the set of double doors behind me and hesitantly tap on one.

  When nothing happens at first, I feel a bit silly. Is Millicent playing a prank?

  But then suddenly, one of the doors swings open and a guy dressed in black is standing there.

  “Come with me, please.”

  “Uh, who are you?” I ask, not moving.

  “I’m from security. I have orders to bring you through.”

  “Bring me through to where?”

  He points into the darkness. “Through there.”

  At this point, I start to feel more excited than nervous. Could this mean…?

  I follow the man into the venue and make my way through to the main hall. It’s pitch-black, and I stand in the doorway, waiting for my eyes to adjust.

  The stage lights up and someone is standing there, alone in front of the microphone, a guitar over his shoulder.

  Lincoln.

  My heart starts pounding, and I run down to the edge of the stage. He sees me and his eyes light up, that swoon-worthy smile taking up half his face.

  He doesn’t say anything, and instead positions his guitar ready to play.

  He strums a chord and opens his mouth.

  I was lost in the darkness

  With nowhere to turn

  I never thought I’d be happy again

  But then you appeared

  Like a star in the night

  Leading me to a place so bright

  Being with you is better than heaven.

  I try to pay attention to all the lyrics, but I’m so overcome with happiness that tears start rolling down my face. How did I get so lucky to have this perfect man in my life? And how is he even here right now?

  The song ends, and he puts the guitar down before reaching out and helping me onto the stage beside him.

  “Hi,” he whispers, tucking my hair behind my ear.

  “Hi,” I whisper back. “I thought you were overseas.”

  “I snuck back for a couple of days. It may mean I miss out on a little sleep, but that’s a very small price to pay for the chance to see you again. And the kids. It was killing me being so far away for so long.”

  “I’m glad you’re here. But you didn’t have to go to all this trouble for me.”

  “If not for you, then who?” he says, his gaze earnest.

  “I love you so much.”

  “I love you, too.”

  He steps back for a moment and digs a small box out of his pocket. “And to show you just how much I mean it, I want you to have this.”

  My eyes widen as I realise what he’s holding. I stare at him and then back at the box. “Is this…?”

  “Open it.”

  I shakily push the lid up, revealing a white gold band with a round-cut diamond in the middle.

  He removes the ring from the box and holds my left hand. “Natasha Northwood, we’ve gone through a lot in a short amount of time. And even though we’ve faced some pretty crazy challenges, I feel that it has only made us stronger. You are calm and kind and beautiful, and I would be honoured if you agreed to be my wife.”

  A lump in my throat threatens to prevent me from answering. I quickly swallow. “Yes. Oh my God. Yes!”

  He laughs and gently slides the ring onto my finger. I hold it up to my face so I can admire this beautiful symbol of our commitment and then wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him close.

  “Thank you,” he says before pressing his lips to mine.

  I breathe in his now familiar scent and can’t believe I am now connected to Lincoln Page in every way possible.

  We will be together forever, a beautiful and slightly unconventional family.

  And it’s perfect.

  Thank you for reading My Own Personal Rockstar. I really hope you enjoyed it. If you’d like to get in touch, I can be found on most social media and book-related websites. You can also sign up for my newsletter at https://kirstymcmanus.com.au

  (Reviews on your preferred platform are always appreciated, as are personal messages.)

  Read on for a sample of Welcome to Coco Bay, and a list of my other books.

  Kirsty.

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  WELCOME TO COCO BAY

  ONE

  Emily

  Damn you, Ryan Franco.

  This was supposed to be my year. You made me think I was about to score a promotion that would elevate me from a regular international tourism director to a member of the management team, only to then frame me and make it look like I sold trade secrets.

  You took away my life in Vancouver, including my gorgeous apartment in West End. And I blame you for ruining my relationship with Emmet. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have brought up the subject of my fragile residential status, and Emmet wouldn’t have offered to marry me mere weeks after we met. That’s way too much pressure for anyone.

  I stare at a photo of Ryan’s smug face on Facebook and want to punch the screen of my laptop. I’ve tried contacting him several times since I left, but he keeps ignoring all my calls and messages. For now, the only way I can cope is to erase him from my life. I click Unfriend on my old boss’s profile and open another tab so I can check the status of my new job applications.

  It’s been four weeks since I landed back in Australia, and I’m no closer to becoming re-employed. When your previous place of work is unwilling to provide a professional reference, it makes it hard for anyone to trust you.

  I haven’t spoken to Emmet either, apart from a quick text once I touched down in Brisbane. His impulsive nature (which I found sweet but wildly misguided) meant that he’d found a new girlfriend before I’d even left Vancouver—and I want to give them both some space to build a meaningful connection without me getting in the way.

  The only upside to this whole sorry situation is that I have a bit of money saved. I’d been planning to travel down the west coast of the US right before I was let go, so I’ve been living off my travel fund since I returned. It won’t last forever, though, and I’m running out of businesses in Brisbane looking for tourism directors.