Midlife Crisis: another romance for the over 40: (Silver Fox Former Rock Star)

by L. B. Dunbar

  “Shit, I’m sorry. I stepped into that. He’s your son. I shouldn’t have said anything.” He’s her kid, and I shouldn’t be reprimanding him if I’m trying to make a good impression.

  “Don’t apologize. I don’t know where any of that came from. He’s never like that. Never. And I’m not just saying that because he’s my son and typically a good kid. I really have no idea why he is acting this way. I’m embarrassed for him.”

  “How much did you hear?”

  “Enough.”

  I tip my chin for her to come closer to me. “Hear him ask me if we were dating?”

  Her lip twists as she stands close to my chest. Her hands come up and smooth down my sweater. “What did you say?”

  Did I say we were? I only asked him how he’d feel, but he countered with the beer comment.

  “I didn’t get to answer.”

  “Too much conversation about getting into pants?” She giggles, ignoring the answer as well. “I probably shouldn’t have heard any of that.”

  “Probably not. That was guy talk.”

  “Oh, yeah?” She steps closer, rubbing up my chest to reach for my jaw. “Well, for the record, I’d like the feel of this scruff...in my pants.” She kisses my jaw, too quickly, before stepping back. It’s then that I feel eyes on us. Shit.

  “Mom, Mr. Kraus is leaving. He wants to thank you for hosting the party.” I don’t know who this Mr. Kraus is, but Midge flits her arms. Mr. Kraus better not want in her pants.

  “Oh, okay, good,” she replies, pulling back from me without a glance and heads for her front door.

  Ronin steps forward, and I’m feeling trapped by this damn sink.

  “You’re Hank Paige,” he says as if he’s just realized my name although we’ve obviously met.

  “Yep.”

  “The Hank Paige. The one from Chrome Teardrops.” I rub a hand over my face. Oh fuck.

  “What do you know about that?”

  “Kit Carrigan rocked it. The band included her brother, you, and Denton Chance on guitar, but you had two solos within her first album.” Crap. This kid is good. “I have a poster of you on my wall upstairs.”

  “What?” Do those even still exist? “Does your mother know about this?” My voice lowers. I haven’t quite added it all up for her yet.

  “My mom knows nothing about music. She pretends to understand because she loves me, but other than listening, she doesn’t get it.”

  “Ronin, I don’t believe in keeping secrets, but could we keep this between us for a little bit longer?”

  “You trying to date my mom?” Jesus, is this the question of the night?

  “Yes.”

  “Then she needs the truth. My dad lied too much.” He’s right. I know this, but…

  “You ever like a girl and want her to like you for you and not something she thinks you are, or something other than you are?”

  Ronin ponders on this a second. “Like wanting Athena to see me as more than a band nerd?”

  “Exactly.”

  “I’m proud of the band. I want her to like me because of it.”

  “Exactly again. I’m proud of who I am now, and I want your mom to know the me I am, not who I used to be. My past is over, Ronin. Does that make sense?”

  “Yes, but I still want you to tell her.” He fidgets with the hem of his old-school, classic rock t-shirt.

  “I will, but I need a little more time.”

  Ronin seems to understand and nods, slipping his hands in his pockets. “I gotta go say goodbye to some other guys. The party’s breaking up because we have another show tomorrow.”

  I nod, and Ronin leaves the room. I’m pushing off the sink when a younger version of Midge enters the kitchen. With the same brown hair and same speckled eyes, Liam is the male image of her. He’s small for his ten years, but he’ll grow. He’s running to the fridge when he collides into me.

  “Whoa, pal, where you headed?”

  “Soda.” He’s breathing heavy, eyes wild, looking like he’s already had a few too many.

  “It’s kind of late for that.” I have no idea, but I know if I have caffeine too late, I get the jitters and can’t sleep.

  “Mom said I can.”

  “Really?” My tone must hold some warning because he stops tugging at the fridge handle.

  “No.” He sighs, shoulders falling. “You’re Hank, right? Her date or something.”

  Oh Lord, here we go again. “Yes.” I think it’s okay to say that.

  “Know how to play video games?”

  “Umm, no self-respecting man doesn’t.”

  He looks at me like he has no idea what I said. “Want to come play Minecraft?” I wave a hand, gesturing for him to lead the way.

  As I sit in a small den off the kitchen, I get whipped by a ten-year-old, but he cracks me up. Question after question escapes him between video game strategies. How tall am I? Have I ever been in a play? Do I like monster cookies? I can’t keep up with his energy.

  Thoughts of having children come to mind. What would it have been like? Would I have played video games with a son? Would he have asked me a million and one questions? Would he have loved me unconditionally? I know I’d allow any child of mine to be whatever he wanted to be, unlike my pop.

  “What do those bracelets mean?” I look down at my wrist, twisting them back and forth. I don’t know what made me break them out of my drawer. It’s been a long time since I’ve worn them, but for the past two nights, it felt right to wear them.

  “The leather one has three straps woven together. It’s for me and two old friends. A reminder we were a…” I almost say band but decide on something he’d understand. “…a team.”

  “I’m on a team.” His voice rises with excitement.

  “I know.” I pause, twisting the second band. “This one has beads. A reminder of how a team takes more than one player and lots of support.”

  “Like fans for a game?”

  “Something like that.” It’s more than fans, though. A band is like a family—supporting one another, holding each other up—until one member brings them all down. I don’t go into that explanation.

  “That’s so cool,” he says, and then his attention bounces to other topics. Baseball. Summer camps. Failing science class.

  After what seems like an hour, Elston stands in the entrance followed by his mom.

  “Mr. Paige, I’m sorry for how I acted earlier. It was disrespectful.” The language seems formal but his intention sincere.

  I shrug. “Call me Hank and the apology is accepted.”

  “Deal.” He nods, a boy on the verge of being a man suddenly.

  “I’m sorry, Mom.” He turns to Midge, who seems a little startled by his apology. “I didn’t mean to act like that.” He reaches for her, hugging her tight, and Midge holds him. She mutters something to him, and he responds, “Love you, too.”

  What would it be like to hold a child?

  “Ugh.” Liam sighs.

  “Do they fight often?” I whisper, watching Midge embrace her son.

  “Just lately. Since we came back from spring break. He’s more mad at Dad, but he’s taking it out on Mom. At least, that’s what she says.”

  “What do you think?” I figure why not ask him. He seems full of information.

  “I think she’s right. Mom normally is.” I chuckle at the response. “You coming to my game tomorrow?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it.”

  “Sweet.”

  Yeah, it is sweet. They are great as a family, and I dare to envision myself as part of one like them someday. Maybe this one, I hope.

  19

  Just a game

  [Midge]

  As I sit on my camp chair, I watch Liam warming up while my mind flips through last night. Hank was a rock star with all those kids, keeping his eyes open for hidden alcohol or corner kisses as he put it. The night went off without a hitch. Except for Elston. I don’t know what’s gotten into him, other than this business with his father a
nd attending college back in Illinois. Maybe it’s Paul’s impending wedding. The boys aren’t exactly thrilled with Melanie, his future wife. She’s young, in her twenties, and I wonder if Elston thinks she’s too close to his age. I certainly do, but then again, I don’t have a say.

  I’m waiting for the game to begin when Tommy and Edie arrive with a cooler in tow.

  “Whatcha got there?” I’m excited to spend more time with them, especially Edie. We’ve talked often lately. I explained to her what I did, how I quit my job, and how I’m working on securing another one. I shared some of my concerns, which include how I might be too old for such a dramatic switch, but she assured me I could do it.

  “Plus, you already did, only six years ago when you moved here,” she reminds me.

  “We come bearing gifts,” she teases. “I love Sunday doubleheaders, and Bloody Marys make them better.” She laughs at her own rhyme. She’s already told me about her son, Caleb, and his career as a minor league baseball player. He’s hoping to be called up for a major club this year.

  “I feel like a chump. I only brought chips.”

  “Good one.” Edie claps.

  “Darlin’, you two already hit the bottle?” Tommy jokes, spreading out a blanket for him and his wife. He’s wearing a baseball jersey for a team I don’t recognize while Edie wears a shirt with her son’s last name on the back and a large number twenty-five.

  “Ivy still coming?” I ask. I didn’t want to pry into her cancellation last night. I remember having three small children. Life can be chaotic.

  “Talked to her this morning. She’ll be here with the kids.”

  A few minutes later, Hank arrives. He looks delicious in a tight gray tee and faded jeans. He wears an open flannel over it, but he’s already removing it as he walks. I wore shorts today with a long-sleeve shirt, thinking it might be warm in the sun despite the early April mild temperature. Baseball season is always unpredictable.

  He sits in the camp chair next to me, then leans over to give me his signature quick kiss.

  “When you two getting married?” Tommy teases, and my face heats. Married? He won’t even sleep with me, I think, so I react quickly.

  “We aren’t getting married.” I turn to Hank, expecting him to join the joke, but his eyes close, his fingers steepled against his lips. His pinched brow worries me, and I reach for his wrist, recalling suddenly what he said about his former lover never wanting to marry him.

  “Actually,” I exaggerate the word, and Hank’s eyes flip open. I turn to Tommy. “After he asks me, you’ll be the second to know.”

  “Why the second?” Tommy asks with a chuckle.

  “Because I’ll be the first.” I haven’t released Hank’s wrist, and I give it a squeeze before turning back to face him. His crooked smile proves he’s pleased with my answer. I’m still holding his wrist when I look up and find my ex making his way to us.

  “Paul,” I say as way of greeting. I’m still upset about Elston’s behavior and Paul’s role in it, so I don’t want to talk to him. He eyes the people around me, taking note of their tattoos. Paul is tallish, lanky, and lean. He wears an open denim shirt, a white t-shirt underneath, and a medallion necklace. He looks young, but he’s not as young as he used to be and not as young as his future wife, who sits on a bleacher, ignoring me. We’ve met twice. She’s almost half my age, blonde, tan, and very Californian. He has his work cut out to keep up with her, but that’s her problem, not mine.

  “Are you going to introduce me to your friends?” He looks me over and then eyes the men again.

  “This is Tommy Carrigan, his wife, Edie, and Hank Paige.” I release Hank’s wrist, and he stands to shake hands with Paul.

  “Nice to meet you,” my ex offers, but a question remains in his tight-lipped smile. Why am I with him? Or rather, why is Hank with me?

  “You look different,” he says to me, taking in the light purple streak in my hair. I let it bleed out a bit and then had the hairstylist lighten it for my upcoming interview with Pendelton.

  “Thanks,” I say although I’m not certain it’s a compliment. An awkward tension grows between us as I have no more to say to my ex-husband. I’m surprised he even walked over to our little party because he doesn’t typically address me at events. It’s better we act civil but not engage in conversation.

  “I guess I’ll get back to Melanie.” I wave my fingers, dismissing him, and fall back in my seat the second he walks away.

  “Tommy, how about that Bloody Mary?” I glance at Hank who waves at me to proceed.

  A few innings into the first game, Ivy arrives with two little girls on either side of a stroller. She spreads another blanket for the girls to take a seat but the youngest immediately plants herself on Tommy’s lap. Her blonde, wild curls tickle his stubbled chin, and he kisses her head. It’s sweet. He’s too young to be a grandpa, but he definitely fits the patriarch role of his family. Within a few minutes, Paul makes his way back to us.

  “Hank. Incoming,” Tommy says, and instantly, Hank’s hand is on the back of my neck. I’m not certain what’s happening, but Paul walks with determination and a secret conversation seems had between Hank and Tommy. Hank squeezes my nape.

  “I knew it. I knew I recognized you,” Paul states, drawing closer to us. “Hank Paige, drummer of Chrome Teardrops, and Tommy Carrigan, you were Kit’s brother. She was amazing.”

  “Thank you,” Ivy interjects. “She was my mother.”

  “That’s what Melanie said.” Paul references his young fiancée, and I’m stunned at the revelation, slow to process what’s been said. Hank Paige, drummer of Chrome Teardrops. He loved Tommy’s sister, Ivy’s mother. He loved the lead singer of his band because he was a flipping rock star, and the woman he loved was one, too. I’m ready to jump out of my chair, but Hank’s hand holds firmly, massaging at my neck, pinning me in place.

  “Wow, Midge. How did you swing this?” Paul stares at me, and I want to slap him, then I want to slap Hank. I’m turning red with shame at not recognizing him or the connection between them all, and I feel like a fool.

  “We met in a bathroom,” Hank interjects. I want to dig a hole in the dirt and bury myself alive in it.

  “A what?” Paul gasps.

  “Never mind,” I say, sliding forward in my seat, but Hank holds on to me. “I think I need to check in with Liam.” I stand, releasing myself from Hank, and wait for my ex-husband to walk away. Fingers tickle up the back of my thigh and curl into the hem of my jean shorts. Hank tugs, but I can’t look back at him. Paul watches the movement, his eyes widening at Hank’s touch.

  “Huh.” He snorts. My mouth opens, and then I clamp my lips. I have no retort for him. I owe him no explanation. In fact, I need a break from all of them. I brush past Paul and head for the chain link fence dugout where Liam rests on the bench, awaiting his turn in the batting order.

  “You doing okay, buddy?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Can you keep Dad back? He keeps trying to coach me, and it’s getting on my nerves.” This is a constant issue I have with Paul, running interference at his sideline coaching tactics. He’s concerned for our sons, wanting them to be their best, but he rides the athletes the hardest. Liam’s getting his first taste of things as baseball has become his passion.

  “I’ll talk to him.”

  I feel Paul’s presence, but I don’t want to address him in front of Liam. I hold my position, keeping my back to him, hoping he’ll walk on by and give me a moment. Instead, I find Edie walking up to me with baby Granger in her arms. I’m grateful for her company as it derails Paul.

  “I know how you’re feeling,” she says, jiggling Granger on her hip. He’s almost a year with shocking dark hair and big brown eyes. “I didn’t exactly find out the truth from Tommy, and it stung.”

  “Hank has dropped hints, but I just wasn’t putting the whole story together. He’s a flipping rock star, and he loved one.”

  “I’ve hear
d something about that.” Edie jostles Granger, cooing at him a moment as she kisses his little fist. “Here’s the thing. Everywhere they went, they were recognized. Women threw themselves at them because of what they were, not who they are. Tommy once explained to me how he wanted me to know him first, the rock star second. From my understanding, Hank’s pretty far removed from the rock star in him. Maybe he just wanted you to like him as Hank.”

  What she says makes sense, but still… “He loved Tommy’s sister. She was…she was huge. Popular. Pretty.” I wave a hand over myself. “Look at me.”

  “I think you’re perfect for him.” Edie winks.

  “I don’t know how I can compete.”

  “Is it a competition? I hate to state the obvious, but she’s dead.”

  “She haunts him.” I glance over at Hank, noting him watching me.

  “She does?” Edie asks, turning in the same direction a moment.

  “He still hurts from her not loving him, and each time we get too close, he presses me back.”

  “But he’s here today.” I stare at my new friend. What is she saying? “He came to the play, right? They don’t get involved with the kids unless they want to be with you. I watched Tommy do it with my kids. He didn’t have to. He could have been a one and done with me, which is embarrassing to admit, but he wasn’t.” I note the huge rock on her finger, marking her as his wife.

  “I don’t know what to say. I think I need to let this soak in a little bit.”

  “I understand, I truly do, but realize that over there sits a man who just wants to be with you.”

  20

  Take the swing and hope not to miss

  [Hank]

  Midge sits next to me but feels miles away. My hand covers hers, and she smiles weakly. I have some explaining to do, but now doesn’t seem like the right time.

  “Uncle Tommy, take me swinging.” Ivy’s youngest daughter, Emaline, looks like a china doll. With blonde hair and blue eyes, she’s precious as she plays with the medallion necklace around Tommy’s neck. Ava walks over and hugs him over the shoulders. “Yes, swings.”