Charmer

by Loring, Kayley

  “I want to go home,” Tate mutters, even though I swear he’s still asleep.

  I feel the world that Nico had opened up for me start to close in on itself again. I’ll fight to keep it open, but in the end, it’s always going to be this little sleeping boy that I’ll be fighting for. That’s just how it goes.

  * * *

  “Kat. We have to board soon, we gotta go,” my mother says.

  I can’t let go of Tate. My ovaries hurt. This is just embarrassing. “I’ll talk to you as soon as you land in LA, okay? In about five and a half hours.” God, they’re running late. They really have to go but I need to keep smelling my son’s hair and skin for five more minutes.

  “Yeah.” He pulls away from me, dammit. He’s so excited to get on a plane. “Okay.”

  “See you back in LA, okay buddy? In two weeks,” Nico says to him.

  “Yeah.”

  Nico holds his hand out for a high-five, but Tate wraps his arms around his legs.

  My mother and I exchange looks. Her eyes are pink and puffy, and I’ve been crying too. We’re ridiculous.

  Nico kneels on the ground to hug Tate, and I may start crying again. But I’m trying to keep it together, so Tate doesn’t get sad. It’s probably just a week. I’ll be back in LA with Tate in a week and then I’m sure I’ll be crying because I miss Nico. So be it.

  “Knock knock,” I hear Tate say.

  “Who’s there?” Nico asks.

  Tate finally pulls away. “I gotta go, bye.”

  “That is the saddest knock knock joke I’ve ever heard. Have a safe flight.” Nico kisses my mom on the cheek again. “Take care,” he tells her. “We’ll all be there in two weeks.” He gives her a look that I don’t understand. But she does, and she nods. “Never say goodbye,” he winks.

  “Go back to the car,” my mother tells me, once she’s stopped giggling. “We’ll be fine.”

  “Okay okay.” I hug her and Tate one last time and let them go through security.

  I manage to hold it together until we’re in the rental car and then I just start bawling my eyes out. It is not sexy.

  Nico holds up the box of Kleenex that he brought from the hotel bathroom. I blow my nose. It’s the first time I’ve blown my nose in front of him. Now I’ve cried, peed and blown my nose in front of him, and he still hasn’t run away screaming yet.

  “You want me to start driving or should we stay here so you can cry some more?” he asks.

  “You can drive.”

  It’s early, and we both could use some more sleep before his second Chicago show tonight. Ricky is back at the hotel. I’ll be staying in Nico’s hotel rooms for the next week and sleeping in the back lounge with him on the bus. I’m sure I’ll be excited about that once I’ve got all the tears and snot out of my system.

  “I hope he doesn’t freak out once he realizes I’m not going to be there tonight.”

  “He’ll probably still be excited to be in his own bed. And pooping in his own toilet,” Nico says, pulling out of the parking space.

  He’s acting all cool now, but I know how sad he is that Tate wanted to go home. He completely understands, but I know he’s worried about what it will mean for us too. I don’t want him to worry. I don’t want to worry. But we do. When there’s a six-year-old involved, you worry. Can’t be helped.

  “I hope my mom can handle looking after him all the time. She seemed upset—did you notice?”

  He looks over at me. His expression tells me that he can’t believe I’m really so dense. “I think she’s going to miss Ricky.”

  I laugh so hard while blowing my nose that I think a piece of my brain came out.

  “I’m serious.”

  “That’s funny.”

  “You do realize that she and Ricky have had a thing, right?”

  “What? What thing?”

  “You know what kind of thing. Since, I don’t know. Not long after Dallas, I’m guessing.”

  “Are you high? My mother? And Ricky? No. No way.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Did Ricky tell you that? Because if he did, that’s disgusting.”

  “He didn’t tell me anything.”

  “Because my mother certainly hasn’t said anything.” I shake my head. “No. No way. She wouldn’t. She doesn’t date. She’s still mourning my dad.”

  “Okay. I mean, they’ve been playing cards with each other at night. Ricky’s still mourning his wife, you know? She died like a decade ago. That’s why he started driving cross-country. He didn’t like going home to an empty house. But I’m sure I just misinterpreted things.”

  “You did. You definitely did.” I force a laugh, even though the thought of Ricky missing his wife is unexpectedly moving. “That’s hilarious, though.” I laugh so hard there are tears in my eyes. “My mother and Ricky! Can you imagine?” Ugh. No. I can’t even imagine it. “That’s insane. Not possible.”

  “Okay.” He reaches over to hold my hand. “But you didn’t think that you and I would be possible either. And look at us now.” He furrows his brow again, staring at my nose. He pulls out a Kleenex and wipes it under one of my nostrils.

  Oh for fuck’s sake. Nico Todd is wiping boogers from my nose. Look at us now!

  He balls up the tissue and puts it in the car door pocket and then pats my knee.

  “I still love you,” he says, grinning. “But that was a massive nose goblin. Tate would have loved it.”

  I almost laugh at that. “I love you.”

  “I love you.” He squeezes my thigh. “I love you.”

  NICO TODD SONGWRITING JOURNAL – July

  “Manhattan”

  Here we are on the road again, baby

  Uncharted territory for me, it’s true

  But I woke up in the city that never sleeps

  And found myself—in bed with you

  Your red dress on the floor by the mirror

  No more fear reflected in your eyes

  Your red lips all over my body

  Couldn’t forget that night if I tried

  We’ve been all across this country

  And I’ve gone deeper into you

  That thing that I said in Manhattan, girl

  I felt it and I meant it and I do

  No more guessing games but I’ll never stop flirting

  Don’t have to read between the lines anymore

  I’ll make sure you get my meaning

  Between the sheets and behind closed doors

  We’ve been all across this country

  And I’ve gone deeper into you

  That thing that I said in Manhattan, babe

  I felt it and I meant it and I do

  Twenty-eight hundred miles from where we started

  Heading back to where it all began

  Don’t want to coast through life all alone now

  So stay with me if you can

  That thing that I said in Manhattan, yeah

  I felt it and I meant it and I do

  I’ve got a question for you, girlfriend

  I need you on the same page

  Because I don’t want this trip to end

  Until you and I are engaged

  So don’t leave me all alone in this state

  This world feels so brand new

  Hey woman, you made a man out of me

  And no matter where I go now

  I’m trying to get closer to you

  That thing I said in Manhattan, babe

  I love you, I mean it, I do

  * You know things are getting serious with a woman when you start writing lyrics for a fucking piano ballad.

  I don’t know what the fuck to do with this song, but I know exactly who I’ll be singing it to.

  27

  Nico

  “Nico? You still there?” My lawyer finally picks up after his assistant put me on hold five minutes ago.

  “Yeah, hey.” I’m hanging out in the back lounge with the door closed while Kat does some editing up front.

 
; “What’s up, man? You still on tour?”

  “Yeah. Just outside Iowa City at the moment.”

  “Home stretch, huh?”

  “Pretty much. Got a hypothetical question for you, if you have a minute.”

  “Yeah, shoot. But before I forget—my wife wants me to have you over for dinner when you’re back. She’s got a friend who’s dying to meet you.”

  “That’s sweet, but I’m actually off the market.”

  “Right.” He laughs. “Wait. Seriously?”

  “Yes. And I wanted to ask—this is obviously just between you and me…”

  “Yeah, of course. Mimi, are you off the line?”

  I hear a click, and then I continue. “Between you and me, in a scenario where the woman I want to marry has a young son…”

  “Mmmhmmm?”

  “She never married or really dated the biological father, who is barely in their lives and lives in another state. He helps financially with child support, but that’s it. He’s a total asshat.”

  “Okay.”

  “Legally, what would be the deal with her son? If I marry her, does he legally become my son? Can I be responsible for him? Financially, and otherwise?”

  “In this scenario, would you want to be responsible for him financially?”

  “Completely.”

  “Then you’d have to petition the court to adopt him. You’d need the biological father’s written consent.”

  “Even if he’s an asshat?”

  “If his paternity has been established, then yes. If you work out a deal where you would take over financial responsibility for the kid and he would no longer be obligated to pay child support, it’s unlikely that he’d resist it. But you still have to go through a process with the court to adopt, thus terminating the biological father’s parental rights. I can work out terms with the biological father, if necessary. If you want to block the biological father from contacting the boy.”

  “I don’t think that would be necessary.”

  “Then there would be a hearing before a family court judge and that’s it. Not particularly complicated. So you’re really off the market, huh? If you’re seriously considering asking someone to marry you, it’s never too soon to start working on a prenup. I can start drawing something up for you.”

  Fucking lawyers. “Not necessary.”

  “Nico. It’s always necessary—if you’re serious.”

  “I’m very serious. I’ll let you know. Thanks for the info, that helps a lot. Be in touch.” I hang up, before he pushes more paperwork on me.

  But it’s good to know the legal channels. The last time my lawyer and I discussed paternity, I was about twenty-two. He and my manager were trying to scare me into using condoms so I wouldn’t be up against paternity suits. They needn’t have worried. I have never been nearly as wild as anyone expected me to be.

  But it is truly wild that all of a sudden, I’m carrying a ring box around in my duffel bag and thinking about adoption.

  I bought a ring at Tiffany’s in New York after my meetings, when Kat was back at the hotel. I’m planning to propose to her before we get to Seattle, in case she decides to go back to LA a week early. It looks like she will, since Tate’s at magic camp and he wants her to attend the class performance at the end of the week. And if she’s there without me, I don’t want there to be any doubt in her mind that she’s just some other girl “at the end of the line, at the end of the road,” like the others. I want her to know that I’m hers. I want her to be mine. I want her to know that I want Tate to be mine too.

  I want to be the guy who wipes their boogers away when they’re sad and laughs about it with them later.

  I’ve been thinking about it ever since Detroit. Since they met Grammie. Since Kat met my parents. I don’t see the point of waiting until we’ve been dating for a longer period of time. I already know that I miss having Tate around after he’s only been gone for three days. I even miss Lulu. I want them to legally be a part of my family. I’m just waiting for the right moment to pop the question to Kat. I plan to get the portable keyboard out and sing her the new song. If she doesn’t laugh or run away screaming, I’ll know it’s time to get down on one knee.

  Now that I have all the information I need, it could be any time now. I don’t usually feel nervous, but ever since that night I was about to introduce Kat to my parents, my hands start sweating whenever I think about proposing to her. It’s so lame.

  I take the ring box out of my duffel bag and slide it deep into the front pocket of my jeans, then open the door.

  As soon as I’m in the hallway, I can sense that something’s wrong.

  Kat’s on the phone, hunched over on the sofa, rubbing her forehead, asking something about a hospital. “Did they x-ray everything? Did he hit his head?”

  Shit.

  “Don’t tell me to calm down when you’re calling to tell me that he’s in the hospital, Mom!”

  Fuck.

  She sees me, and the look on her face makes me sick to my stomach. I’m expecting the worst. She must realize this because she attempts to change her expression, shakes her head, and moves the phone from her mouth to tell me, “He fractured his ankle.”

  “How?”

  She listens to her mom and then tells Lou, “Hang on, I have to tell Nico.” She holds the phone to her chest, takes a deep breath and says with a shaky voice, “Tate and another kid at magic camp were horsing around during a break and the other kid chased him up the stairs of the stage. Tate tripped and fell off of it when he was running. Or jumped and tripped, I’m not clear on what happened, but he’s in the fucking hospital.”

  “Did he land feet first?”

  “Basically. That’s what they said.”

  “Did the bone break through his skin?”

  She shakes her head, shuddering at the thought.

  “Do they have to operate?”

  “No. It’s a hairline fracture. She said they don’t have to reset it.”

  I exhale a sigh of relief. “Oh.”

  She seems offended that I’m relieved. “Nico, I have to go home.”

  “Yeah. Of course.”

  I can hear Louise yelling, “Katherine! Do not come home!”

  “Oh my God, Mother. Of course I’m coming home.”

  Louise yells something about being a physiotherapist and Kat cuts her off. “My son is in the hospital with a broken bone. I’m coming home. I will call you back when I’ve booked a flight.” She hangs up and makes the saddest sound.

  I take her in my arms. This woman. She was a mess when Tate had a loose tooth, of course she’s going to be upset when he’s actually injured. “I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I’m so sorry it happened.”

  She sighs. “I know I’m making too big a deal of this, but he’s never broken anything before. Oh, the poor thing. It must hurt so much.”

  “Yeah.”

  “My mom said he’s had a lot of energy since they got home. Probably because he was cooped up on this bus for so long.”

  Well, shit.

  She lowers her head and covers her face, and then her head pops up again. She places her hand on my arm. “I don’t mean—I’m glad he came with you. With us. I didn’t mean—”

  “Yeah. It was a long trip for a kid.”

  “I need to…I need to pack everything up.” She gets up and starts looking around, trying to decide where to start. “Are you sure you don’t mind me leaving today? I’ll keep editing at home, so I could get it done sooner. I think I have enough tour footage and I’ll get more at the show in LA.”

  “Yeah, yeah yeah. You need to be with him. I’ll talk to Ricky about dropping you off at the airport.”

  “Okay. Shit, I have to book a flight.” She reaches for her laptop. “Where are we? Iowa?”

  “I guess you’ll have to fly out of Iowa City. Probably stop in Denver. It could take about, I don’t know, six hours.”

  “Six hours. So I’ll get home in the middle of the night.”

  “P
robably. Sorry it’s such a pain in the ass. I wish I could go with you.”

  I don’t know if she even heard that last part, because she’s so focused on finding a flight. “I was hoping I could get there when he’s still in the hospital, but I guess he’ll be home by then.”

  “Hey. He’ll be okay. I’m not trying to minimize it, but I broke my leg skateboarding when I was nine. I had to wear a cast, but it only took like a month to heal, I think. His bones are still growing, so—”

  “I know. No, I know, I just feel…”

  Guilty. She feels guilty. For being with me instead of being there for him. I know.

  Aaaaand so much for piano ballads and engagement rings.

  She clicks on a link and while she’s waiting for the page to load, she turns to me and says, “Hey. I love you.”

  “I love you.”

  “We aren’t going to…I mean, I know I said at first that this should only last until the end of the tour, but—”

  “I’m filing for an extension.”

  She smiles. Fuck, it’s good to see her smile again.

  “Good. Me too.”

  “I’ll miss you, though.”

  She turns back to her laptop, nodding. “Ooh, maybe I can catch the five-oh-five? Can you ask Ricky? Then I’ll get into LAX at ten. I can be home by eleven, maybe.”

  “Yeah. I’ll go talk to him.”

  I walk to the front of the bus, with a song in my head, a ring in my pocket, and an unfamiliar feeling in my heart that might be dread.

  28