Fighting For Our Forever: The Beaumont Series: Next Generation

by Heidi McLaughlin

  Thankfully, the nighttime desk clerk of the Inn isn’t anywhere to be seen when I walk in. I climb the stairs two at a time and fish the key out of my back pocket. I had to move it there in order to play tonight. Nothing like having a rigid piece of metal jabbing you in the leg each time you push down on the foot pedal.

  After unlocking the door, I step in and let it close on its own. I left the sliding glass door open earlier and decide to go out onto the balcony to take one last look at my little hometown. Once I leave tomorrow, I’m not coming back. I’m going to ask Saul to file the appeal and have the divorce processed immediately. It’s what Whiskey has wanted from the beginning and it’s the least I can do for her.

  Back inside, I start to pack because sleeping right now is out of the question. Whiskey’s single and I’m leaving. It doesn’t seem to make much sense in my mind, but in my heart it does. She needs time to figure things out and I’m only in the way, pulling on her heart strings when I beg for time with her.

  “You know you should really make sure the door closes when you walk into your hotel room.”

  I jump and place my hand over my heart. My breathing is sporadic and coming in short bursts. “What the fuck, woman?” I manage to say. “You just about gave me a heart attack.”

  Whiskey walks further into my room and takes a seat on my bed. “You’re the one who didn’t shut your door.”

  “What did you do, follow me?”

  She nods and a sly smile plays on her lips. “I couldn’t let you leave, not like that.”

  I sigh and sit down next to her. “I have to go, Whiskey. We have a tour stop tomorrow and I need to be there.”

  “When will you be back?”

  The carpet of my hotel room is green with black, white, and red specks mixed throughout. I hadn’t noticed them until now, but I’d rather study them and look for a pattern than to see the disappointment in Whiskey’s eyes.

  “Like I said, I’m not coming back.”

  “Why not?”

  “Whiskey…”

  She moves from sitting by my side to sitting on the floor where I have no choice but to look at her. The last thing I want to do is hurt her, to make her suffer through anymore bullshit, and forcing her to spend time with me is just increasing the animosity she feels for me.

  “Did you hear what I said back there? When we were in the parking lot?”

  I shake my head slowly, telling her the truth. “All night I’ve been hung up on the fact that you have a daughter. I guess I sort of knew but wasn’t sure.”

  “How did you know?”

  Pulling my phone out, I open the photos app and show her the pictures I found. “Dhara has them on her profile. The little girl, she looks a lot like you, so I assumed, but you hadn’t said anything, and I was too afraid to ask you.”

  “Her name is Evelyn.”

  “I know, I just have a hard time saying it because part of me doesn’t want her to be real. She’s named after your grandma?”

  Whiskey nods. “Grandma passed away when I was about seven months pregnant. At the time, I really hadn’t thought of a name or decided on whether I was going to keep her. I was really messed up back then.”

  “That’s my fault.”

  Whiskey reaches for my hand and presses it against her cheek. “You may have triggered things, but you weren’t the only issue. Imagine my surprise when I finally tracked down my baby daddy and he tells me under no certain circumstances will he be part of our lives. I spent the last few months of my pregnancy going back and forth with him. He finally agreed to pay child support if I kept my mouth shut.”

  “What a fucking douche.”

  She nods. “Yep, a rich, stupid douche bag, living the high life in his fancy house with his fancy wife and his private school educated kids. But I won in the end.”

  “Because you have Evelyn?”

  Whiskey smiles when I say her name. “She’s the best, Ajay. She’s smart, funny, and can turn a shitty day into something salvageable.”

  I tug on Whiskey’s hand and nod toward the spot beside me. She sits down and rests her head on my shoulder. “I don’t have much experience with kids,” I tell her. “Chandler’s seven and hangs around the studio some, and then there’s Betty Paige who I see back stage. That’s about it.”

  “Who’s Chandler and Betty Paige?”

  “Chandler is Keane’s daughter. Betty Paige is Liam’s teenage hellion determined to put her father in an early grave… his words, not mine.”

  “Chandler is a girl?”

  I nod. “Her mom was a Friends fan, according to Keane. She’s wicked cool though. Loves to read and draw and hates the spotlight.”

  “I have a feeling Evelyn’s going to love the spotlight.”

  Hearing her say that makes my heart twist. “Whiskey, I don’t think it’s such a good idea to mix her in my world. People pry, they spread rumors, they take photos of you while you’re eating. They’ll follow you around and shove their cameras into your faces, post shit about you on social media. Is that what you want?”

  Whiskey stands and goes over to the slider door. She leans against it, staring out into the night. Bailey is quiet now, everyone’s gone home to get ready for their week to start. Bright and early, Nola and Quinn will pull up in front of the Inn and we’ll drive to the airfield where Quinn and I will fly back to the tour bus, and Nola will go home to Malibu.

  “I’ve been through a rollercoaster of emotions with you in my life, Ajay. Literally every single one you can think of and probably some that don’t even have names. When your group first played on the radio, I loved the song and then I found out who was in the group and hated every bit of it. Dhara was relentless, though, and would play your music even though I hated it. But when she wasn’t around, I’d listen to it willingly. And then I’d start to wonder what life would’ve been like for us, for Evelyn, because despite her being another man’s child now, she would’ve been ours had we stayed together.”

  My girl turns and faces me. “There used to be this show on about a female movie star or musician — I don’t really remember which because it didn’t last long — but I pictured myself as her, walking down some random street with people following her. She acted like she didn’t care, and I thought I could’ve done that. But then I would read articles about celebrities having issues and I started thinking life is too crazy when you’re famous.”

  “It’s the only part that I hate. Thankfully though, I’m still a nobody and people don’t bother with me as much as they do with Dana and Quinn. Quinn grew up in the spotlight, he’s used to it. Dana craves it. Me, I just want to play the drums.”

  “And Evelyn and I want to be with you.” She walks toward me until she’s standing between my legs. Her arms are resting on my shoulders and her fingers are playing with the back of my neck. I don’t know where to put my hands. Do I leave them on the bed? Put them on the back of her thighs? That’s where I really want to put them, and it seems that my hands know better than I do now. The feel of her legs pressing into my palms is enough to make me forget everything that’s hanging in the balance.

  “Evelyn doesn’t know me, Whiskey. She may hate me because I’m not Logan. They looked like they’re pretty close earlier. There’s no denying that they have a connection. She may resent me for taking time away from her when it comes to you. She may hate me because I’m not here. I live in California and there’s no changing that. Have you thought about that? That being with me means you give up your life in Bailey and relocate? Or do you want me to travel back and forth? While that may sound ideal, it doesn’t work, not all the time. The studio we record in is in Los Angeles. I have to be there.”

  “You’re the one who said you wanted to be my husband.” She throws my words right back at me.

  “You’re right, I did. I was letting my heart get ahead of the bigger picture. I wish I could say that you having a daughter doesn’t change things, but it does. I’m not going to ask you to uproot your life… her life… to accommodate
mine. We aren’t kids anymore. We have responsibilities. You have a little human that depends on you, and I’m not going to get in the way of that. I love you, Whiskey. I always have and I always will, but my life is there. Yours is here. I’m not going to ask you to give it up for me. I did that once and look at how things turned out for us.”

  “We were young,” she says. “I could’ve fought harder.”

  I nod in agreement. “And I could’ve as well, but neither of us did. What does that tell you?”

  She slides off my lap and stands in front of me. We’re silent for a long time before she speaks. “What time is your flight?”

  “Quinn will be here in a couple of hours. I think it leaves at five.”

  “I should probably let you get some sleep.”

  I stand and pull her into my arms. “I love you, Whiskey Girl.”

  “Then stay,” she whispers into my ear.

  “I can’t.”

  26

  Jamie

  It’s been a month since Ajay left. I thought he was bullshitting me when he said he wasn’t coming back, but he wasn’t. My father says I got played. I don’t believe that. I know Ajay’s busy and this is part of his life, one that I have to accept if I’m going to be in it. And in it is exactly what I want to be. But that means seeing him, and he refuses to commit to a date. Maybe this week or next, maybe on such and such date, he’s not sure. He has to ask Elle. Elle this. Elle that. I’m starting to think that Elle tells him when he’s allowed to take a piss. I know that’s not the case but that’s how things feel right now.

  We are under the sixty-day mark for the finalization of our divorce. Sadly, my father has a countdown on his phone, and he reminds me of it daily. He means well, I know he does, but he has to stop. Even my mother says so. I want to try and work things out with Ajay and would much prefer it while he’s legally bound to me. I know how he thinks, and right now he considers us married. I can guarantee he’s not looking at another woman, speaking to another female or even giving entertaining the idea of being with someone else. I’d say that’s not how he was raised, but in a sense it was. He grew up knowing what a shit bag his father was and always vowed to be different.

  Evelyn comes into my room and sighs dramatically. Call me evil, but over the last few weeks I’ve played Sinful Distraction’s album continuously. She knows the words to most of the songs and I plan to have her sing to Ajay… if he ever comes back.

  “What’s wrong with you?” I ask her as she lays across my bed with another sigh.

  “Today is the last day of school.”

  “You should be happy. It’s summer vacation. We’re going to do lots of fun things.”

  “Like what?”

  “Go to the beach. Read books. Practice math. Hang out at the park. Spend time with Dhara and Fletcher.”

  Evelyn picks her head up, turns to look at me and flops it back down dramatically. “I like all those things except the reading and math part.”

  “Oh? Okay.” I pretend that my feelings are hurt.

  “Ugh, fine. I can read a book, but no math.”

  I jut my lower lip out and make a whimpering sound.

  “You are a hard bargain.”

  “You drive a hard bargain,” I correct her. There are times when I wish I could go back to when she was learning to speak and do the baby talk thing with her. I was so hell bent on her being a smarter person than I am that I didn’t encourage it. I’d correct her and we’d work on saying words correctly. Hindsight is a bitch.

  “Are you going to finish getting ready for school?”

  She comes over to me, dragging her feet behind her. “I’m sad.”

  “Why?” I bring her to my lap, and she rests her head on my shoulder.

  “Because I won’t see my friends during summer.”

  “Of course you will, silly girl. Most of your friends will be around here, you’ll see them all the time.”

  Evelyn picks up her head and looks at me. With her hand in the air, her face deadpans. “Not with all the math I have to do.”

  “Oh geez, Evelyn. Now you’re just being silly. Go finish getting ready. Mommy has to meet Auntie Dhara for breakfast.” I set her down on the ground.

  “Can I go?”

  “School, Evelyn Jameson Foster. You have school.”

  She crosses her arms and huffs. “I’m telling Grandma you three named me. She’s going to be so mad at you.”

  As soon as she’s out of ear shot, I let out a laugh. Tattling on me to my parents has become her favorite thing to do. “Mommy didn’t give me bacon, didn’t buy the right toothpaste, gave me a turkey sandwich when I asked for ham”… the list goes on and on, and each day my mother asks why I’m making my daughter’s life so hard. Of course, Mom knows her little princess is just being a dramatic almost six-year-old.

  After I drop Evelyn off at school, which consisted of me walking her in and helping her hang her backpack, I’m finally pulling into a small diner outside of Prineville. It’s an old soda fountain with a white and black checkered floor and red vinyl seats. Dhara waves to me from the booth she’s secured for us.

  “Sorry, I’m late. Evelyn didn’t want to go to school.”

  “Can you blame her? The last day of school is the worst. You know it’s over once the bell rings, but the bell takes forever to get to that point. Then you say goodbye to your friends, and there’s always one that doesn’t come back because they move. School is torture,” she says. She eyes me over the top of her mug as I give her my best “what the hell are you talking about” look.

  “Did you have a conversation with her this morning or something? It’s like the two of you are in cahoots to give me a headache.”

  “Nah, I would never.” Except she would and often has. Still I love her like family. We spend the next few minutes looking over the menu and place our order when the waitress stops by to check on us.

  “So, how is he?”

  “Logan? He’s okay. He can’t tell me where he is, but he says he’s safe.”

  Dhara leans toward me. “You know damn well I’m not talking about Logan, Jamie. How is he?”

  I sigh but before I can say anything the waitress is back with a cup of coffee for me. I wrap my hands around the base even though I’m not cold, the hot ceramic gives my mind something else to think about other than Ajay.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Don’t know. His texts are vague when he responds. Calls are cut short because he always seems to call right before he’s going on stage, going to bed or about to eat.”

  “And you’re letting him get away with this?”

  I glance at her to see her smirking. “As if I control him.”

  “You do, you just have to assert yourself, Jamie.”

  “I’m trying, Dhara. It’s hard. Like he said, he has this whole other life, and that life is crazy busy. He lives on a tour bus, at least for another few weeks, and he’s pretty much controlled by his manager. When we do talk, things seem good between us. He doesn’t really ask about Evelyn and if he hears her calling for me, he suddenly has to go.”

  “Do you think he doesn’t want kids?”

  I shake my head. “No, I think he’s afraid that he’s taking time away from her. He never had parents that gave a shit and I think this is his way of showing that he does. I don’t know. It’s frustrating. He’s frustrating,” I sigh heavily. “I do know one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’m falling hard for him.”

  “Well you were already there. You just buried your feelings.”

  The waitress comes back with our breakfast: An omelet for Dhara and pancakes with fruit topping for me.

  “The other day, I caught myself when I was filling out a form for work. I checked married instead of single and it felt good to do that.”

  “You know,” she says in between bites, “I wonder what kind of tax implications there are. You’ve both been filing as single.”

  “I hope for my sake, none. Alth
ough I should probably ask Fletcher about it, see if he can refer me to someone he trusts. There’s no way I can pay back the earned income credits I’ve received since Evelyn was born. Honestly, I hope no one figures it out.”

  “That would be best,” she says in agreement. “So, back to Ajay. What do you want from him?”

  I finish taking a bite and washing it down with my coffee. “I want a chance. I want a chance to see if we can function as husband and wife.”

  “You just want to get laid,” she blurts out loud enough for others to hear.

  I do everything I can to fight back my smile, but to no avail. “Believe me the thought has crossed my mind many times. He’s just so…”

  “Yummy? Hot? Delicious? Tantalizing? Sexy AF.”

  “Okay, first, it sounds like you want to eat Ajay, and second, yes to all those and so many more. His tattoos alone, I want to spend time getting to know each one. He does a good job hiding them from me.”

  “Fletch thinks one of them is your name.”

  “Doubt it.” Although, how sexy would that be? “I’m sure he has done everything he can to forget about me over the years.”

  “Text him and ask,” Dhara dares me. To prove that she’s wrong, I do it.

  Do you have my name tattooed on your body?

  He responds before I can even put my phone down.

  Well good morning to you too ;)

  “He ignored my question.” I show Dhara my phone but the expression on her face speaks volumes.

  “You may want to look at the photo he sent.”

  Pulling my phone back, I double click the smaller image to make it bigger. Sure enough, “Whiskey” is inked into his arm. Also visible in the picture is the date I miscarried our angel.