I love playing with the guys and making music. I just lost my muse along the way. The songs I write these days aren’t as happy and love-filled. They’re dark and haunting, about shattered love, like how I feel.
And the producers and fans are eating it up.
It’s a weird thing knowing that others are thriving on your personal pain. That they enjoy the entertainment of it. When we do write something happy, I can’t seem to feel the same joy in it like I once did.
I’m not a miserable fuck all the time, but I’ve definitely lost some of the playfulness I once had. That light has dimmed.
Nate was right about one thing though; Lola was there for her. She always has been and always will be. For Lily and for all of us.
She texts or calls me here and there to let me know that Lily is doing alright, and I act as aloof about it as I possibly can. But I’m thankful for her updates. They keep me going because I know they mean that Lily is doing her best to be her best for her and for her son, and that’s exactly what she should be doing.
* * *
The next day, I finally get a call, but it’s not the one I was hoping for.
I hadn’t heard anything from Lo in a while—longer than usual and it scared me.
“Hey,” Lola says on the other end.
“Please tell me she’s okay,” I beg. I haven’t slept all night. My mind wouldn’t stop with thoughts and questions about Lily and if she was okay. I needed to know that she was. I knew I was losing her more than I already had. I could feel it. I just wasn’t ready to accept it.
“She is. But, Mitch…”
“Lola, how can she expect me to let her go that easily? This is all a misunderstanding. If Case hadn’t—”
“Mitch, stop,” she yells into my ear. “She needs time. Time to heal.”
“She didn’t… She didn’t try to hurt herself again, did she?” I ask, feeling sick to my stomach thinking about what I’ll do if she did.
“No,” Lo whispers. “Thankfully I think that part of her is in the past, and I think we have Easton to thank for that. But she thinks that you deserve better, and honestly? Right now, you probably do. I love my best friend, but she isn’t the best person she can be. She needs to figure that out and focus on her and her son.”
“I hate this.”
“I know. Me too.”
I sniff, letting the reality that this is really happening sink in. “Will you still let me know how she is from time to time?”
“Of course.”
“Thanks, Lo.”
I hang up and let myself give over to my emotions. My shoulders shake as I hang my head between my knees and let the tears fall free.
19
Lily
It’s been three months since the day I walked away from Mitch. Lola told me I made a huge mistake, and maybe I did, but I couldn’t hold him back anymore. I needed to get my life sorted. That she could support me in and didn’t bring him up unless I did. I knew she still talked to Nate, so she definitely knew how Mitch was doing, or who.
My heart was still completely broken and I missed him so much, but I knew that I made the right decision for both of us. I needed to be my best self if I was ever going to feel worthy of Mitch. If it was meant to be, it would be. When it was right.
Timing.
I threw myself into school and found a new job that paid more. I saved enough to move into a little apartment of my own. It’s not much bigger than a cardboard box, but it’ll be mine and Easton’s. I think it’ll be the last piece I need to feel like I have a completely fresh start.
“Welcome home, momma!” Lola sings as we open the door to my new place.
“Welcome home, buddy!” I mimic singing to Easton.
“So, I’ll hold him, and you bring in the boxes,” Lo says with a sideways look.
“Ha! You are so funny,” I say, patting her back. “But I’m going to set up the pack n’ play and he’s going to be just fine. Besides, my brother and dad are coming to help too. In fact, I think that’s them pulling up right now,” I say on my tiptoes, looking out the window.
“Fine…”
“You are ridiculous,” I laugh at my friend as she pouts her way back out the door to bring in boxes from the moving truck.
I set up the pack n’ play and put Easton in with his favorite toys. I’m hoping he’ll stay happy long enough to let us bring in the few pieces of furniture and boxes I have.
“I can’t believe Mom and Dad let you have this couch,” I hear my brother, Mark, yell as he walks in with Lola carrying it. “This is like a family heirloom.”
“It’s far from an heirloom. Just because you probably lost your virginity on it doesn’t make it special.”
“Ew!” Lola exclaims.
“No, that was lost on Nicole’s bed,” Mark says with a grin.
“Gross! I didn’t want the specifics, Mark!” I yell back.
“You brought it up,” he laughs, putting the couch down in the living room.
“Hey, thanks for helping. I really appreciate it,” I say, giving him a hug.
“Miss my little sister walking into adulthood? I had to be here for this.”
“Missed your nephew’s birth, but me moving into an apartment, yep, that definitely was worthy of your presence,” I jest.
“I am never living that down, am I?”
“Nope,” I say with a smirk.
“Where is the little man?”
“He’s in the bedroom. I figured it was safest there.”
“You don’t get out of helping for the kid. I tried,” Lo yells from the doorway. “Now come on.”
“She always been that bossy?” Mark asks with a smirk.
“Always,” I say as we walk out the door for the next load of boxes.
* * *
Three hours later, we have the moving truck unloaded, with my dad and brother taking off to return it so we aren’t charged extra. I’m busy unpacking Easton’s things in his room and Lola, well, I’m not sure what Lola is actually doing when I hear her on the phone.
“I just helped move Lil into her new place…. It’s nice… Yes, it’s safe…. It’s off of Central in Newbury… Tell her yourself… Bye.”
“Who did you just tell where I live?” I ask, not looking up from the clothes I’m folding when she walks into the room.
“Eavesdrop much?”
“Lo?” I say, looking at her now with my head tilted to the side.
“Mitch.”
“Why does he care?” I ask, trying not to sound like I care. But my heart rate has picked up, and the thought that he still asks about me has me soaring.
“Because he’s still in love with you,” she says matter-of-factly with a hand on her hip. My breath catches in my throat. “Just like I know you are still in love with him,” she adds.
“Lola, I can’t. I can’t go there.”
“But why? You are doing great. New job, new place and you pulled it together.”
“After a week of drowning in self-pity,” I say with an eye-roll.
“Only a week, hey that’s an improvement from the last time.”
“Hey!” I say, throwing a onesie at her.
“They’re going to be in town in a couple weeks, after New Year’s. He wants to see you.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really,” she says, grabbing my arm and making me finally look at her. “It’s your choice, but I think you should.”
“I’ll let you know. I need time to think about it.”
“Good enough for now,” she says with a wink. “Now, Mark. When did he get to be so fine?”
“Lola! That’s my brother.” I say, swatting her arm.
“I know, but he is not gross and nerdy anymore. Now, he’s a very handsome man. Me like.”
“Gross. Just, gross,” I say with a scrunched-up face. “What happened to Nate?”
“We’ve tried, but we are much better friends. It was a mutual thing. It’s all good between us.”
“Wow. I didn’t
know. Are you ok?”
“Yeah, no biggie,” she says with a smile. But I know that smile. That’s the same fake one I wore for a long time. But I know with Lola not to press something she isn’t ready to talk about.
After helping me move in, Lo stayed the night and it was like old times. We hadn’t had a night like that in so long. We watched movies, ate way too much junk food and fell asleep playing Twenty Questions. She stayed long enough into the next day that we were able to get the whole apartment unpacked. I didn’t exactly have a ton of belongings, but enough to have what we really needed.
Before she left, we made plans to have another night together, next weekend at Whitey’s. It had been so long since I’d been there, and I hadn’t had a night out without Easton since he was born.
* * *
I’m coating my lips with lipstick when I hear Lo knocking on my door. “Open up. It’s our night to live it up.”
I laugh as I walk to the door to let in my friend. “Hello to you too.”
“Oh man, I thought you had permanently sewed those sweats onto your body. I’m glad to see I was wrong,” she says, eyeing me with approval at my wardrobe choice.
“Hardy-har-har,” I deadpan. “I just need to grab my shoes and coat, and I’m ready to go.”
“Do we have the whole night, or do you have to pick up the child by a certain time?”
“We have the whole night, and as much as I love my son, I could not be more excited for a night off,” I huff, putting on my coat. “Let’s go.”
“Yassss!” Lola exclaims as she closes the door.
We pull up to Whitey’s, and for the first time we are both actually of age to get in. The place is buzzing in normal Friday night electricity. Music is playing while a band sets up on stage, the bar is full of men and women looking to be hit on, and the dance floor is overflowing with couples dancing and rubbing on each other. These are the best nights to be here.
We spot an open table and beeline for it. We sit, order food and drinks, and I feel like I can breathe for the first time in over a year. Leaning into the booth where we’re sitting, I close my eyes and soak in the feeling.
“You okay over there? You look like you are getting off and it’s weirding me out.”
I laugh, a loud, deep laugh that has my body shaking and tears falling. “I’m not getting off. Oh my gosh.”
“Wow. It’s been way too long since I heard you laugh like that, Lil.”
“Yeah…it’s a good feeling.”
“I’m really proud of you, you know.”
“Thanks, Lo. I couldn’t have done any of it without you.”
“Whew! Ok, enough of the heavy,” Lola says, batting her eyes to keep from falling the tears that have formed.
“Dance?”
“Yes!”
We hit the dance floor until we see our food arrive. We are laughing and joking, and I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun, feeling so light and free. As soon as we finish our food, we hit the dance floor again.
We’ve been dancing in our own world when two guys come up behind each of us. Lo and I both look at the face of the guy behind the other and each give an approving nod as we both relax into the mystery guys behind us.
Whoever this unknown man behind me, he has me feeling excited and sexy with the way he moves our bodies as one. It’s like we’ve known each other our whole lives by the way we so easily move together. We’ve been dancing, my back to his front, for maybe five minutes, maybe hours. I feel so lost in his touch and our movements. I feel free.
I move my hands up and around the back of his neck as he slides his hands down my sides and onto my thighs. He leaves a small kiss on my neck as he whispers in my ear, “I thought I’d never find you again.”
I spin to see who it is. My eyes bug out when I look up and find that the mystery man that I’ve been losing myself in is someone I thought I’d never see again.
“Luka,” I whisper so softly I know he can’t hear me over the music.
My heart is beating a mile a minute as I look up at Luka for the first time since the night we met and made a beautiful baby boy. My mouth feels like it’s full of cotton, and I can’t even think a coherent thought long enough to form a sentence.
“Please tell me you remember me, because I’ve been trying to find you for the past year and a half,” he says, smiling and reminding me so much of the same smile I see every day in our little boy. He’s looking me up and down, but not in a dirty way. He’s looking at me like he can’t believe his eyes, like I am his long-lost prized possession.
I close my eyes and try to swallow down my nerves. When I open them, his are still on me, waiting for my reply. “Yes,” I finally choke out. “Yes, I remember you, Luka.”
“Thank fuck,” he says, letting out a long breath. “Can we go somewhere quiet to talk?” I look at him with an arched eyebrow. He chuckles as he puts his hands up in surrender. “I swear, just talking.”
I stand there a minute thinking about what in the hell I’m going to say and how I’m going to tell him about Easton. “Okay,” I finally say, taking a deep breath.
We walk to the back hallway where the bathrooms are. A sense of déjà vu sets in as I remember the first time I met him in this very place. “I’ve been trying to find you. And I mean that in a non-stalker, non-creepy way,” he says with a nervous laugh. “Man, I’m really making a mess of this.” He’s looking up at the ceiling and running his hands over his face.
“Luka, we need to talk, but I don’t want to do it here. Would you mind us leaving to go somewhere else?” I ask, looking up at his face. His face that looks so much like our son. Same curls, same dimples, same long eyelashes.
“Sure… Everything okay?” he says, reaching up and rubbing my arm.
“Yes. I just… I just have something important to talk to you about,” I say, biting my lip. I don't want to have to explain further right here and now, but I know I have to be confusing the shit out of him.
“Uh, yeah. We can do that. Where do you want to go?”
“I don’t live too far. We can go there if that’s alright.”
Then I panic, thinking about the fact that if he comes to my house, he’ll see pictures of Easton and baby toys everywhere.
“Wow. Moving a little fast, aren’t we?” he says with a wink.
I laugh at just how true that statement is. “We can go somewhere else if you want.”
“I’m kidding. Just let me tell my buddy. Meet you by the door?”
“Yeah, I have to tell my friend too.”
I turn and walk back to find Lola, not sure exactly how I’m going to explain this. When I spot her, she’s at our table talking to the other guy. It’s then that I notice Luka is walking right behind me in the same direction, and it dawns on me that it’s his friend talking to my friend. Lo’s eyes meet mine as I walk over, her brows bunched together, trying to figure out what’s going on.
“Hey, we’re going to leave for a bit, okay?”
“Uh... what?” Lo asks, confused by the sudden shift of events.
“Can you walk me to the door?” I ask her, giving her a look that tells her to get her ass up and follow me. Luka and his friend just watch in silence at our short conversation.
“Meet me over there in a few minutes?” I ask Luka.
“Sure,” he says with a smile.
Lo and I walk toward the door with her whisper-yelling at me, “What the hell, Lily?”
“That’s Luka,” I say as my friend looks at me like I’m crazy. “That’s Easton’s father.”
“Oh fuck.”
“Ye-ah…”
“You’re going to tell him?”
“Of course, I am. I don’t know if we’ll be back or how long it’ll take, but I don’t want to do it here. I’ll text you when we’re done.”
“Okay,” she says, hugging me, “you got this.”
“Thanks. I’m not so sure.”
“You ready?” Luka asks, walking up to us.
“I think so,” I say, giving Lola a tight smile as I turn to leave with the unsuspecting father of my child.
Mitch
It’s nice. It’s safe.
I hear Lola’s words running through my head after she called to tell me about Lily’s new apartment.
She’s moving on. I think, and I know I should be happy for her. She’s moved out of her parents’ house. She’s working hard to be on her own and support herself and Easton. She’s amazing.
Every time I get a call or text from Lola—no matter how spread apart they are—one common theme always rings throughout. Lily is amazing.
She’s kicking ass at motherhood while working hard to continue moving forward in her life. I know it can’t be easy, but she’s doing it. On her own. Without me.
I know she has Lo and her family, but I hate that I’m not part of it all. What we had meant something. She meant something.
She still does.
But I can’t be there for her in the way she needs right now. And it kills me that I’m not able to be her support. Maybe one day I can be that for her again.
Like the day Easton was born and how she leaned on me and I could hold her and soothe her and be what she needed and wanted.
Maybe I need to show her. Little man’s birthday is coming up in a few months. I can make it happen. I can show her that I care and always will. That no matter where I am or what I’m doing she—they—are all I think about.
Lily is more than the chorus of a song. She’s the crescendo, the bridge, the key change. She’s the part that makes you gasp and feel it in your soul.
But she’s also the melody that you get stuck in your head and can’t stop singing. Because there is no way I will ever stop singing about her.
“Holy fuck,” Brix says.
My head snaps up and I’m breathing heavy, my heart beating erratically in my chest. My guitar still vibrates on my lap from the last chord I played without even realizing I was playing.
“That was incredible. I don’t know if I’ve ever heard you play like that before,” he says, walking over to grab his own guitar. “And that’s saying something since I hear you play a lot.”
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