by Lisa Suzanne
“What can I do?” Karl asks.
I clear my throat as I stare dumbly at the men who are brothers to me. “I, uh, don’t really know,” I admit.
Tyler stands. “Then what you need is help figuring it out and delegating.”
“We’re booked solid today,” Karl reminds us from his spot near the window. We’ve got media interviews this afternoon and another private event tonight—this time just an appearance at a local club. But that really limits what I can do to transition Hannah and the kid from their apartment to the bus.
“Dani can help,” Tyler says.
“Thanks,” I murmur, and I truthfully feel like I’d be fucking lost without these guys.
“Amanda can watch Luna if Danielle needs help,” Dustin offers. “She would love to help however she can. We have a fairly good idea already of what we need versus what we thought we needed.” They have a five-month-old baby they brought along on this tour, a little girl named Maya.
I have these experts all around me, and I feel like I’m having an out of body experience. Maybe I’m a little hungover after numbing myself last night, but none of this feels real. I still haven’t even accepted the fact that I have a kid, and by tomorrow he’ll be living on my tour bus.
I still don’t want kids. I still want the life I’ve been living the last thirty years.
But want it or not...here they come.
Instead of a band meeting, Tyler and Dustin call in the real bosses running the show: their women.
“What’s going on?” Danielle asks.
“I don’t know how much you know, so the short version is that I have a kid. His mother died a couple nights ago and his aunt tracked me down and they’re coming on tour with us.”
Neither woman seems surprised by the first part of what I say, but the whole coming on tour with us seems to throw them for a loop.
“Both of them?” Amanda asks.
I nod. “The aunt is all the kid has, and I don’t know what the hell I’m doing so I told her I’d pay her to take care of him.”
“Why are they coming on tour, though?” Tommy asks. “Can’t you pay her to take care of him at their place?”
I blow out a breath. “It’s complicated, all right? This just felt like my only real option.”
“Whatever,” Tommy mutters petulantly. “Don’t I get a say in this?”
He has a point, but before I get the chance to plead my case, Danielle gives him a pointed glance then looks at me. “You’re doing the right thing, Brett,” she says softly. “This has to be confusing and difficult for everybody. But we’re here to help. What does she need?”
“She?” I ask.
“The aunt,” Danielle clarifies.
“Hannah,” I say. “I have no idea. She needs to plan her sister’s funeral before we head to SLC, for one thing. She works at a bar, so she needs to quit. She needs rent. She goes to school, so she’ll need to get in touch with her professors. Beyond that...” I trail off and shrug. “I have no idea.”
“She just lost her sister,” Amanda says softly. “She needs her friends. She needs support.”
“And that’s where we’ll come in,” Danielle finishes.
Amanda nods. “We’ll do whatever we can.”
“You two are...” I trail off. I haven’t been the nicest guy to either of them. I always looked at them as these two outsiders who weaseled their way into the lives of some of the best guys I know and tried everything in their power to tear apart our band.
My conversations with Tommy tell me he feels the same way about them.
But now I’m realizing how wrong I’ve been this whole time.
They’re not here to tear us apart. They’re here to help us grow. I’ve been stuck in the same place for the last decade, and while I’ve enjoyed every second of the ride, maybe it’s time for me to grow up a little. And nothing will kickstart that process faster than finding out I’m responsible for a kid I didn’t even know I have.
“You’re the best,” I finally finish. “And I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner.”
CHAPTER 11: HANNAH
How do you decide what to pack for three months on the road? I don’t have three months’ worth of clothes, though I’d imagine we have access to laundry at some point. I don’t even know what to wear for something like this.
I’ll be traveling with superstars. Doesn’t that mean I should be dressed to the nines at all times? I have two pairs of jeans. One is the same ones I wore my senior year of high school and they have holes in the pockets and are frayed on the bottom cuffs. The other is slightly newer and in slightly better shape, so I guess I’ll be wearing those.
What am I doing?
Why do I think it’s a good idea to take this child on a tour bus with a bunch of strangers?
Oh, right. Because Dottie. Marbles. This shit hand of life I’ve been dealt.
I stop that thought. I won’t wallow. I never have, not even when I was in a foster home, separated from my sister and lonely and one of the older boys in the home chose me as his target. Instead, that forced me to grow up. To be strong. To figure out how to change my situation.
My only choice is to make a change. Again.
I’ve moved around enough that I can do this. I can pack a small amount and be fine. Packing for a baby, though—that’s never been my responsibility. I watched Brie enough to know his needs, but I’m not his mother. Just a poor substitute.
I have a million and a half questions for Brett, but he told me he’d take care of everything. I just wish I knew what that meant.
I find out when I hear a knock on my door an hour after my conversation with him. When I open it, a beautiful woman I’ve never seen before stands there. She smiles and offers a little wave. “Hi Hannah! I’m Danielle, fiancée of Tyler Caldwell from Capital Kingsmen. Brett sent me to help?” She says the last part like a question, like she’s saying do you know what I’m talking about and can you let me in? I do.
“Nice to meet you,” I say, color rushing to my cheeks as I find myself totally nervous around this woman who changed whatever plan she had for her day so she could be here to help me.
And it’s not just that. She’s the fiancée of Tyler Caldwell. You know, that guy who went on that competition reality show just to gain notoriety for his band. I guess it worked since Capital Kingsmen is everywhere these days...but it still feels a little shady.
It’s not just Brett I don’t trust when it comes to this band, I guess.
I close the door behind her, and she moves toward me. She gives me a hug. “I’m so sorry for everything you’re going through. I can’t even imagine.”
And just like that, I feel like I have a friend. Then and there I decide to bury whatever feelings I have about her fiancé. I don’t know him other than the persona that was presented of him on national television, and if I’m really going to go through with this, maybe I need to have a tiny bit of an open mind.
“Thank you,” I murmur.
“Where’s the baby?” she asks.
I nod toward Brie’s room. “Napping.”
“He’s how old?” she asks.
“Nine months.”
She smiles. “Oh yes, I remember those days. I’ve got a two-year-old who thinks she doesn’t need to nap anymore. Take advantage of every single moment of baby sleep you can get.”
I force my lips into a small smile. I still haven’t actually been able to smile since my sister died two nights ago. I think genuine happiness is just some imaginary concept that’s not meant for everybody.
And it’s then I note that this woman is giving me parenting advice.
I’m not a parent.
“So Brett gave me his credit card,” she says with a grin. “Wanna go shopping?”
“Oh, that’s a nice offer, but I couldn’t do that.”
She shrugs. “You’re going to need a crib for the bus plus a travel crib for hotels, a chair for him for the bus, maybe a rocking chair, blankets and sheets and probably the next
size up in clothes, formula, bottles, all the things.”
“Yeah,” I say quietly. I do need all those things, but I don’t know how to accept all this from a bunch of people I don’t know. It’s like I’ve won the lottery and lost everything at the same time, and I can’t quite figure out how to reconcile all the warring emotions.
“Brett’s his father, Hannah. I’ve never seen him like this.” Her voice gets a little passionate. “He wants to do this. He wants to start making up for lost time. And since you’re helping by taking care of his child, he wants to take care of you, too. He told me I’m not allowed to get any less than two weeks’ worth of clothes for you and for the baby, so if you want to pick out your own stuff, you should probably come with me.”
“Oh,” I say, not sure how else to respond.
“What else do we need to do? Have you spoken to your boss? Your professors? Maybe an advisor at school can help. Have you talked to your landlord? What about a service for your sister? What can I do? Where should we start?” She fires off question after question and I want to answer them all but I can’t.
I’m frozen. Stuck in quicksand and sinking quickly. Not sure what the hell is going on.
“I...uh...” I sputter as I stare at this woman who is here to help me.
Nobody has ever helped me except my sister and I’m completely overwhelmed by the notion that this person, this absolute, complete, total stranger is here to help me.
“I’m sorry,” she says, her voice softening. “I know this is a lot. But I’d love to get you packed and ready for the bus by tonight. We leave tomorrow for SLC and there are just a lot of details to handle before then.”
“SLC?” I ask, because it’s the only thing I can think of to say.
“Salt Lake City.”
“Right.” I nod once. “Then the most important thing before we leave is that I need to say goodbye to my sister. I should talk to my landlord, too, just to find out whether I can store my things while I’m gone.” I don’t add that I can’t afford to pay rent for three months on this hole while I’m away. “I can handle everything else with phone calls.”
“Of course,” she says. She nods. “Do you have a start on that at all?”
I shake my head. It’s not that I haven’t thought about it a million times in the last two days, but I haven’t had the time. Besides, I don’t even know where to begin.
“Okay,” she says, and she points down the hall toward the bedrooms. “You pack what you need for you and the baby, and I’ll call the hospital and get a plan together. And while you work, I can call your landlord. Where’s the number?”
I set it out for her, head to my bedroom, cry a little, and pack up what I can. Chance starts crying a few minutes into my work, and I head to his room to get him out of his crib. I hear Danielle talking down the hallway. She’s rattling off some numbers, and I wonder who she’s talking to.
I change Chance’s diaper and bounce him around on my hip a minute before I start grabbing his clothes and all the spare diapers we have—one-handed, of course, since I’m holding onto him. I pause when I see Danielle standing in the doorway with a smile gracing her lips.
“Ahh I miss the days when I couldn’t get a single thing done because I was holding a baby all day.” She takes a step into the room. “May I?” She nods toward the baby.
“Oh, sure,” I say, and I hand him over. “This is Chance. Chance, meet Danielle.”
She makes silly faces at him, and he gives her giggles that sound like a totally alert baby, not one who just woke up moments ago.
“I talked to your landlord,” she says while she continues to make faces. “Brett prepaid your rent for the remainder of your lease, all seven months, so you’re free to leave whatever you want here while we’re on tour. I also spoke with the hospital and they offered a list of resources for a service. I have a few more calls to make and then we can go shopping.”
My jaw drops open as she talks. She just got done in less than ten minutes what I haven’t been able to bring myself to do for two days.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
CHAPTER 12: HANNAH
I don’t know if I’ve ever met someone with such a get shit done attitude. Danielle is not just my new best friend, but she’s organized and here to help me.
I could not be more grateful.
I already have someone on this crazy ride who I can trust, and I don’t trust easily. But when she called a funeral home to plan my sister’s funeral without knowing a damn thing about me, it meant something to me. My entire life, the only person who has ever been in my corner with me was Brie, and that has led to some serious trust issues on my part.
I feel like I’ve found someone I can confide in with Danielle. It may take me time to open up to her, but I guess there are just some people who step into your life just when you need them, and that’s how it feels with her.
Mina is probably the closest thing I have to a friend these days, and it’s wholly because I shut myself off from allowing friendships. People tend to leave me be because of that.
But not Danielle.
When I’m getting overwhelmed, she senses it and does exactly what I need her to do without having to ask anything of her.
Like with planning Brie’s services, or with entertaining Chance while I settled the great sweater debate of the day (ultimately I went with purple over green), or with how many diapers we’ll need so we can get through the next few weeks. From the most complex issues life offers to the silliest, she’s run the gamut with me today, and I truly feel my life changing before my very eyes.
We get a crib that will fit on the bus plus a pack and play for the nights we’re in hotels. We get baby clothes and toys to occupy a nine-month-old. We stock up on formula and baby wipes and Cheerios and introductory solid foods.
We shove all the bags into an Uber and when we get back to my apartment, I send a group email to each of my professors and a separate one to my advisor.
And then I call Hank while Danielle feeds Chance.
“Hannah Hartman. You calling to ask for another night off?” he answers gruffly.
“More like the next hundred nights,” I say simply. I’m met with stunned silence, so I go on. “I quit.”
“You...what?” he asks, his voice incredulous.
“I quit. Effective immediately.”
“But we need you, Hannah,” he says.
“It never really felt like you did, Hank. Thanks for the memories.”
I hang up. Now that felt good.
I call Mina next. “Hey babe,” she answers, and she sounds like she’s out of breath. She always sounds like that. She has five kids. “What’s up? You need me to cover for you?” Screaming children fill the background with noise.
“Nope,” I say. “I just called Hank and told him I quit.”
“You did?” Her voice is incredulous, too.
“I’m going on tour with Capital Kingsmen, I guess,” I say.
She sighs. “Girl...I’m jealous AF.”
I grunt out a chuckle—still not a laugh, because I think that will take some time yet, but it’s better than the despair. “Don’t be. I hate their music.”
She laughs so loudly I have to pull the phone from my ear. “Well don’t forget about us little people, okay?”
“You’ll never be little to me, Mina.”
“I love you, girl. Have fun and try to smile once in a while. Being so serious all the time isn’t good for anybody and it’ll just give you hemorrhoids.”
“Gross. And I love you, too.” We end the call, and as much as we say the words I love you, I don’t really know how true they are. We would laugh together at work, and we’d cover for one another, but we never got together outside of the bar. We weren’t friends, really. We were work friends. We were two people who really didn’t love our jobs and bonded over that fact whenever we could.
And that’s it. She’s the only one I’m really leaving behind as I embark on this adventure.
An hour
later, a man I’ve not yet met but who looks vaguely familiar is standing at my door when Danielle opens it.
“This is Karl, Capital Kingsmen’s manager,” she says. “He’s here to help get all your stuff into the big van he rented and over to the bus lot.”
The manager. Right. He’s the one who was yelling at me that night of the meet and greet to move the line along. I can’t fault him for doing his job.
“Nice to meet you,” Karl says. “Sorry about...well, everything.”
I press my lips together. “Thank you.”
Two hours later, we pull into a parking lot with five buses, and I feel like I’ve stepped out of my own life and into someone else’s. The van comes to a stop, and I sit in my seat staring out the window for a minute. I knew this was happening, but it didn’t feel real until this moment right here.
“Five buses?” I murmur.
“Tyler and I share one with our daughter. Dustin and Amanda have one with their baby. Two crew buses, and then yours. You, Chance, Brett, and Tommy.”
I don’t know much about this band. All I know is that I don’t care for their music and that most of these men make headlines for their bad behavior. At least I know that’s true of Brett, who spent one night doing my sister and never got in touch with her again.
This is a terrible idea, but what choice do I have? I could run away, deny my sister of her final wishes and fight for every penny while I try to raise a child who doesn’t legally belong to me, or I could suck it up and give this a try. At the worst, it’s three months out of my life. Either way, my life’s going to change at the end of this, but that was inevitable the moment a car crashed into Brie’s.
I grab Chance’s car carrier and follow Danielle out of the van. Karl sets to work on moving the stuff we packed as our essentials while she leads me toward the bus that’ll be my home for the next three months.
She types a code onto a panel by the bus door then she walks up some steps, and I follow behind her with Chance’s carrier weighing down my arm. I climb a few steps up toward where the driver sits, and then I turn and take in my new home.
