I know she’s it for me. There will forever be a Lily-shaped hole in my heart that will be left empty. My heart is hers and always has been.
It doesn’t matter how much I’ve tried to move on and not think about her; she’s there in the front of my mind regardless of what I do. Singing songs I wrote about her on stage, fucking some random girl to try to move on, partying with other musicians and getting piss drunk, or shooting the shit with my boys; she’s always there.
The only thing that makes it not suck as bad is knowing that Easton has his father in his life. (And it’s not fucking Case, thank God.) That kid should grow up with his dad and know that he’s loved and wanted. But that’s about where my liking for Luka ends.
After leaving Lily, I spent my flight drowning myself in bourbon. Giving myself this time to grieve what never had a chance to really, truly begin and grow into something amazing. But after this, I’m going to wake up and move forward. Not get over it, because I will never get over her, but move forward. That I can try to do.
Pulling my cell out of my pocket, I shoot Lola a text.
Me: My heart hurts, Lo.
Lola: I’m sorry, Mitch, but maybe it’s for the best.
Me: You stabbing me in the heart would have hurt less.
Me: You doing alright? You know, since everything?
Lola: I’m fine. We aren’t talking about me right now.
Lola: Look, you know I love you. But Luka is Easton’s dad.
Me: I wasn’t planning on kidnapping him, Lola.
Lola: But you would have tried to take Lily and where she goes, he goes. It wouldn’t have ended well for either of you.
Me: I hate that you’re right.
Lola: If it helps, I really don’t want to be this time.
Lola: But Luka has been great to them.
Me: He better always be.
Lola: You can help me bury his body if he isn’t.
Me: Deal
Lola: I really am sorry you’re hurting.
Me: Me too.
I continued to keep in touch with Lola through the next years. She was, after all, one of my best friends. We didn’t talk all the time, but we caught up here and there. She’d let me know when big things happened in Lily’s life and that she and Easton were doing alright, and I returned the favor.
Rock ‘Em Dead reached heights in fame at an amazing pace we never dreamed of. We won Grammys and dozens of other music awards while selling out stadiums across the world. We had number-one hits, one after the other, and albums that performed the same.
I kept writing, and when I felt like I ran out of words to sing and notes to play, I’d think of Lily and instantly be inspired. I may have let myself move on—as much as I could—but she was still never far from my thoughts.
22
Lily
Two years later and I graduated from college. Me. A teen mom and professional hot mess.
It was such a satisfying feeling receiving that diploma in the mail. I got a bachelor's degree in psychology, which felt kind of ironic because my own head is still all kinds of messed up.
Luka had asked me to move with him to New York after I graduated. I found a job just outside of the city working as a counselor at an after-school child center. Together, we bought a new house that was between both of our jobs and fit our little family. I didn’t want to raise Easton in the center of the Big Apple, so we lived on the outskirts, where we could have a yard and a good school for him. Luka had a little bit of a commute to work but said he’d compromise to be able to come home to us each night.
After six months of living together, Luka asked me to marry him, and I said yes. But at that same moment, all I saw was Mitch’s face flash in my mind. I pushed it down and focused on my job, Easton and my new fiancé.
We were married in the church I grew up in back home six months later; I didn’t want a long engagement. It was a small and simple ceremony, with our families and few close friends. I wanted to invite Mitch but decided against it, figuring it would be too awkward for Luka and probably Mitch too.
Or maybe it was really because I was afraid that if I saw Mitch, I’d back out on marrying Luka, jump into Mitch’s arms and beg for him to take me back. Regardless, I tried my best to keep Mitch buried in the back of my mind.
I really was happy with my amazing son, a job I loved and a new husband who adores me. Luka has given us anything and everything we could ever ask for. He’s become a skyrocketing New York attorney, pulling in a six-figure salary that grows with each passing day.
By the time Easton started school, Luka had bought a separate apartment in the city where he could stay when he was working on a case with long hours and late nights.
“This place has the most amazing view,” I say, looking out the big window overlooking the lit-up New York City skyline from Luka’s apartment.
“It is pretty amazing, but my favorite thing to look at is you,” Luka says, wrapping his arms around my middle and kissing the side of my neck.
Today is our one-year wedding anniversary. We decided to take advantage of this place and stay the night here together.
We just finished the most delicious meal after he took me to see my first Broadway play. It’s been an amazing night, giving us some much-needed time together, just the two of us.
“Do you say that to all the girls you bring here?”
“Just you,” he says, kissing my neck again. “It’s only you, Lily.”
“You know I trust you, right? I was only teasing.”
“I know. But it’s important that you do. I’m not a cheater. And I love you and Easton so much. I’d do anything to keep you happy.”
“You do make me happy,” I say, turning to face him now.
He places a soft kiss on my lips before pulling away. “I got us something.” He walks to his kitchen and pulls out a bottle of Dom Perignon champagne. “Want to open it and get drunk?”
“I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to savor that stuff,” I laugh.
“We could save it for another time if you want.”
“Let’s do that. Let’s make a pact to come back here and celebrate our fifth anniversary and drink it then.”
“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he says with a chuckle.
“Don’t patronize me,” I huff.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“I want us to stay in love like this. The past two years, I was so nervous how things were going to go being away from everything I knew and how much you work, but you’ve made it perfect. I love you, Luka. I’m so grateful for you, your love, your devotion to us, everything.”
“Lily, there is nowhere else I want to be than here with you. It’s been a whirlwind, but I’d happily be sucked into a vortex with you any time,” he says, kissing my nose.
“Do you have any other wine here?”
“I think so.” He walks back to the kitchen and comes back a few minutes later with two glasses of wine.
“To us,” I say, raising my glass.
“To us.”
“And to broken condoms.”
“To broken condoms,” he laughs as he clinks his glass to mine.
Luka made love to me that night like he did the first time after we found each other again. He savored me and I savored him. We got lost in one another and appreciated each other in every way a husband and wife could.
* * *
I’d like to say we stayed that connected through the next passing years, but as Luka became more and more successful, we saw less and less of him. The nights he was spending in the city were becoming more frequent. Don’t get me wrong; when he was there, he was really there and gave us his full attention. But those times were falling by the wayside.
After five years of marriage, I hit my breaking point with Luka. I had had enough of him never being home and thinking that buying a gift to apologize for his absence was enough. We got into a huge fight, and I told him he needed to make a choice between his career and his family. I was tired of playi
ng second to his job.
He told me I was being childish and absurd. I told him he was a selfish ass. He left the house to head back into the city to ‘think’ for the night. He promised we’d get through this and figure it out the next day. He just needed to sort through some things.
But that day never came. Those promises weren’t kept.
He was in a car accident that night. He swerved to miss a deer on the road and drove into a utility pole. There was a malfunction with his airbag, and with the speed he was going, he died instantly.
The last words I said to my husband, the father of my child was, “You better pay a lot of money for a good hooker because I’m not putting out when you come home!” Nice, Lily. What a way to show him how much you loved him.
* * *
After I got the news about Luka, my friend Monica from work came to stay with me until my family could get here. Lola and my brother Mark were the first to arrive.
Everyone flitted around doing various things to prepare for the funeral while I felt like I was on autopilot. The service was nice, or at least from what I can remember it seemed nice. I honestly don’t know what I would have done without Lola being there with me.
My parents left to head home a couple days after the funeral, which left Mark and Lola with me for one last night before I was left by myself in the city with Easton.
I kiss my son’s curls, which will always remind me of his dad, and head back downstairs. “Shit!” I yell when I see Lola pouring a glass of wine for each of us.
“Sweet baby Jesus! What? You almost made me spill my whole glass on this newly shampooed carpet!” she exclaims.
“I forgot about his place in the city,” I tell them, closing my exhausted eyes. How could I forget about his apartment? I haven’t been there in ages.
“John took care of it,” Mark tells me.
“He did? Oh,” I muse, thankful I don’t have to go there. “I haven’t been there in years. I have no idea what he even had there.”
“He said it was just clothes and take-out boxes mostly, but he did bring a box by yesterday for you. Sorry, I forgot until you just asked about it,” Mark says, walking over and picking up the box to bring to me.
My eyes look at the box. “Should I open it?”
“It’s up to you,” Lola says. “If you aren’t ready or whatever, you don’t have to.”
“Right,” I answer, biting my lower lip, nervous about what I’ll find inside.
“I don’t think John would have boxed up anything bad, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Lola says.
My eyes snap up to meet hers. That’s exactly what I was thinking.
“Do you want me to look?” Mark offers.
I sit there chewing my lip for another minute, staring at the box in front of me before chugging down my glass of red and answering. “No. I’ll do it.” I sit up straighter and take a breath before opening the box and peering inside.
One by one, I pull out the contents of the box: World’s Best Dad mug, framed pictures, drawings from Easton, and then I freeze. My eyes fill with tears pulling out the bottle of Dom Perignon champagne we left there years ago.
“We bought this on our one-year anniversary when he got the apartment. Our plan was to stay there, just us, for our five-year anniversary and drink this. He ended up working instead, and we never did celebrate this year,” I explain to them. “Guess it doesn’t matter now,” I say. Might as well drink it. I start to open the bottle, ready to get drunk.
“Lil, are you sure you want to open it now? You could still save it,” Mark offers.
“I’ve saved it for years and look where it got me. A lonely marriage, a dead husband and a bottle of champagne to drink by myself,” I spew back and I unwind the wire, making the cork pop and hit a wall across the room. I pour the expensive champagne into the mug I pulled from the box.
“Damnit, you are not drinking that alone. We’re here,” Lo says, running to get two new glasses for her and Mark. “And I want to try it,” Lo adds.
“Really, Lola?” Mark asks, taking the glass from her with a chuckle.
“Fuck you for working so much, Luka. You should have been home with your family. But man, I did love you,” I toast with my mug held out. “Here’s to you, dumbass.”
We all toast and spend the rest of the night sharing stories about Luka while getting drunk on really expensive champagne and cheap wine.
Mark and Lola convinced me to move with Easton back to Ohio. I didn’t want to be in New York without Luka. He was the only reason we moved there in the first place, to be a family. I loved my job, but I could find another if I wanted. The truth was Luka’s life insurance was an exorbitant amount of money, and I’d never have to work again if I didn’t want to. It was nice not to have to worry about that part of life for a while.
Easton was devastated by the death of his father. He was nine when it happened, and he became quiet and reserved. My fun-loving, goofy boy lost his spark. He said he was happy to move and have a fresh start with me, but sometimes I wondered if he said that for my benefit instead of his.
We found a nice house in a good school district that wasn’t too far from my parents. Lola had a place not too far as well, but she traveled for work a lot, so she wasn’t there much. Regardless, it was nice to have her close when she was home.
Easton and I were finding our way, slowly. With each new day came a new breath of fresh air to help us move on. We talked about Luka all the time but focused on the good memories instead of the sad. We were going to be ok.
23
Lily
Easton and I were coming up on the one-year anniversary of Luka’s death, and I wanted to do something to get his mind off of the heavy.
“Got any favors you can call in to any of your famous friends?” I ask Lola as we sit on my couch drinking wine. Just like when Easton was a baby, Lo still makes a point to spend one day a week with us.
Lola is now a pretty well-known stylist and makeup artist. She’s worked fashion runways with celebrities of all kinds, not to mention her commercial and movie work. My friend had become quite famous in her field. I love that she still kept her permanent residence close to where we grew up. She has always been the most humble person I know and hates all the recognition. I couldn’t be prouder of her.
“Way to use your best friend for your benefit. Sheesh!”
“Oh, get real! But really, do you?” I say, wagging my eyebrows.
“No, but you do.”
“Who do I know who’s famous?”
“You know a band that is starting their ten-year anniversary tour,” she says, giving me the look that only Lola can give to make anyone feel stupid and childlike.
“No. I can’t,” I say, shaking my head.
“Why not? I’m sure he’d be happy to see you and Easton.”
“Lo, I haven’t talked to him in years.”
“Fine, I’ll call him,” Lola says, grabbing her phone from her purse.
“Lola!” I shout as she presses the call button.
“Trust,” she says with a wink as I sit there nervously biting my bottom lip.
“Hey, Mitch, what’s up, sucker?!... I’m good… I have a favor to ask, is that ok?”... *laughter*... “I have a friend who is having a hard time. Any way you could hook me up with two tickets for your concert here?... I know I suck at keeping up to speed. Sorry, my friend… Awesome! You’re the best. Thank you so much, Mitch. It means a lot... Promise I won’t wait so long to catch up next time… Later, loser!”
“And done,” she says, taking a bow.
I applaud her with a laugh. “Thanks, Lo. East will be so excited.”
“Of course. He said that they’ll be left at will call with my name on them. The concert is tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? Holy shit!”
“I know. I had no idea they were going to be in town.”
“Liar, you totally knew.”
She just smiles as she gets up. “I gotta run. Later, lover.”
* * *
I am a ball of nerves and excitement as Easton and I drive to the concert. I know I won’t have to actually talk to Mitch and there is no way he’ll know I’m there, but I am sweating buckets all the same.
“Are you excited, buddy?” I ask on the drive to the arena.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“You know, I actually knew these guys in high school, before they got big.”
“Really?” he says, sitting up a little higher.
“Yep. I used to date Mitch.”
“Are you serious? That makes you, like, famous. Doesn’t it?”
I laugh. “Not exactly.”
“That’s pretty cool,” he says, nodding his head in approval.
“He, uh, he was actually there the day you were born,” I say, biting my lip as I reveal this news to my son.
“Seriously? That’s awesome! How come you never told me that?”
I shrug. “I thought I was cool enough, being the person who brought you into this world and all.”
He laughs. “Mom.”
We talk the rest of the drive about the day he was born and about the rock star who was there. It’s the most excited I’ve seen him in a long time. It’s so nice to see his smile again.
When we get there, we walk to the will-call window for our tickets. I’m stunned, but not completely surprised when we have front row seats and backstage passes for after the show. “Looks like you’ll get to meet him again after the show,” I say, showing Easton with a smile.
“This is going to be the best night ever! Thank you, Mom,” he says, giving me a big hug.
“Anytime, buddy. Anytime,” I say, reveling in this moment with my son. A moment when he is happy for once, and not missing his father.
We find our seats and wait for the show to start. As soon as the lights dim, I hear his voice command the audience, and my heart picks up speed.
“How you doin’, Cleveland?” The energy, excitement, and screams from all around us are like nothing I have ever experienced.
Lullaby of Tears Page 16
