The Mile High Madness

by Anders, Annabelle

  Each morning I wake up and remember he’s not here is like a new day of hell.

  Heartbreak is a physical pain. It’s an absence of something we want, something we need to be happy. I know time will dull the ache. I know I’ll find my peace again. I’ll eventually even be content. But can a person ever be truly happy without their soulmate?

  I’m at 38 weeks and am beginning to look like a truck. This morning I feel like I’ve been hit by one. My head hurts, I’m sluggish. Teri’s put me on the schedule for one more week. I don’t want to let her down.

  I shower, dress. Oh, hell. Maybe I’m coming down with something. I vaguely consider calling my midwife, Mara, as I walk to the offices. I have difficulty separating physical pain from my broken heart, but something feels wrong. I walk through the sliding glass doors, and black shadows edge into on my vision. I’m dizzy. The world’s spinning. I reach out for something to steady myself but nothing is there.

  And then everything slips away.

  Colt

  Rehearsals have never gone so easily. Even the new drummer fits like a glove. Guilt plagues me for thinking this. For replacing my dead friend with somebody who plays better than he did. The guy’s name is Banks, and he’s clean as a whistle. God help me, he’s the male version of Charlie. Vegetarian. Zen. Doesn’t believe in booze or drugs. I didn’t realize any of this when we chose him.

  The universe must be taunting me.

  Most of us flew out to Atlanta to kick off the tour. Don’t ask me why Atlanta. Max books it, and I play the gigs. The bus meets us there. It’s been upgraded over the past three months. Sleek, shiny. Modern. My personal ride provides me with all the comforts of home. Hell, it’s decked out with more amenities than most brick and mortar homes.

  My bedroom’s in back, and I have the option of total darkness even when the sun is shining. Fully stocked kitchenette, mirrors, bar. Guitars. It’s designed specifically for me. The playboy me.

  Atlanta goes off without a hitch. Sold out. Incredible crowd.

  I’m covered in sweat. The high always feels good. Unfortunately, the inevitable low is not far behind.

  Security screens people for backstage passes, and Max starts opening the back rooms up for the better looking women.

  This is how it works.

  Two girls, one bleached blond and another brunette, wearing tight T-shirts emblazoned with the Colt Forrester logo, drop onto the couch beside me. One hands me a drink, and the other girl’s hand lands on my thigh.

  They’ve been drinking for a while now. Most of these groupies have been partying since before the opening act.

  “Oh, my God, Colt. You sounded so good.” The blond coos in my ear, pressing her tits against me.

  “Baby Come Home is my favorite song ever.” This from the brunette. Her hand has moved boldly close to my crotch.

  In the past, I had no problem with this. Have a drink. Cop a feel and take one, or even both of them, back to my bus. I’m waiting for the weakness to kick in. Waiting for my cock to take over.

  Only… it doesn’t.

  In fact, the entire scene repulses me.

  One of my sound guys lights up a joint. I smell it. It fucking pisses me off because I know they won’t stop with the harmless stuff. An impressive sound system cranks out the tunes. All Colt Forrester of course.

  Charlie’s words come to mind. What do you do then? Eat? Drink? Fuck?

  I shake my head of her image. I’m caught between who I am and what I want.

  That night. In the darkness. She knew. She knew more about me than any other soul on earth… You’re letting it hurt you. Of course, it’s a gift. You’ve been blessed. But it’s controlling you instead of the other way around.

  I shrug the girls off and stand up. They’re pouting, but I could give two fucks. They’re women. They’re human beings who want something I don’t have to give. They’ll find it somewhere else. I suddenly realize I’m just something for them to brag about.

  Max is watching me incredulously. “Hey, man, what’s the problem? Great night, by the way. Fucking spectacular way to launch the tour.”

  I’m looking beyond him. Searching for the door. I fucking want out of here. “I’m going to the bus.”

  Max looks confused. “Want me to find some different girls for you? No problem. You’re the man.”

  But I’m annoyed. Irritated. I meet his gaze directly. “Alone.”

  Max nods as though he understands, but I know he doesn’t. I push my way through the throngs of people, half already high on something. Fuck.

  I need out.

  I push my way through the door and march toward the bus. It’s parked in a secured area. Thank God. I can’t deal with fans right now. I can’t deal with band members, sound guys. And God knows I can’t deal with Max.

  Once I’m on the bus, I lock the door and pull out my phone.

  I need to touch her somehow. A text. A few words. Knowing she hears me…

  I have a few texts from an unfamiliar number. They started coming in about four hours ago. Before the show started.

  303/998-2343

  Colorado.

  Unknown: This is Chad, remember? From Whiskey Creek.

  Unknown: Hey man. Charlie’s in the hospital. Something’s wrong. She passed out at work. A seizure or something. From what I can find out it’s serious. Life threatening.

  Unknown: She’s at Mercy General in Denver.

  Unknown: Still no word. I think they’re doing an emergency C-section.

  Unknown: Just thought you’d want to know…

  Me: Just got this. Any news?

  My hands are shaking.

  This can’t be right.

  This world can’t go on without her. My world can’t go on without her in it.

  The little bubbles start bouncing up and down and another text comes through.

  Unknown: Toxemia. I have no idea what it is, but apparently, it’s bad.

  This isn’t happening. I can’t.

  Suddenly, none of this matters. Not the band. Not the tour. Not the stage guys. Nothing matters without her.

  And I’m fucking trapped in a secured lot behind the stadium.

  Visions of her cloud my mind. I’m in a world of hurt and numb at the same time.

  I hit the Uber App and call up a car. I grab my wallet, pull on a jacket and my hat. Not backwards. Forwards. I pull the bill down low over my face. It’ll be a miracle if I can get out of here without being spotted. Hopefully, most of the fans have gone home. Security doesn’t care that I’m leaving. They’re there to keep people out.

  I’m running down the corridor to one of the exits and burst outside as though I’m coming up for air. Charlie.

  Sweet, forgiving…my angel. My little pregnant hippie.

  I see her clearly in my mind, at the restaurant when that fucking waiter judged her… Apologizing for her hormones… In my cabin spread out before me… sitting at the bar top in my kitchen, reading my song… taking care of my feet.

  I see her eyes glaze over when I bury myself in her warmth. My throat feels clogged. With tears. With need.

  I’m not a praying guy but I’m chanting to God. Begging Him to save her.

  At the airport, the next flight to Denver doesn’t leave for an hour. I Google Toxemia… No. Not my Charlie. She’ll pull through. She has to!

  Me: News?

  Unknown: Nothing.

  Me: I’ll be there in four hours. Thanks for keeping me posted man.

  A few people approach me. They want autographs. Not now. I narrow my eyes. They get the message. By the time the plane is boarding, I’m a wreck. I’ve read everything I can about Toxemia and feel so fucking helpless. Left untreated both baby and the mom… God, if Charlie loses this baby. My eyes sting.

  Max: Where the fuck are you?”

  Me: I’m boarding a plane for Denver. Cancel Fort Lauderdale.

  And then I turn off my phone.

  As soon as I walk into the hospital, I know this is where I need to be right now.
I need to be there for her. She is my person.

  I need to be hers.

  Teri, her friend from work, meets me in the waiting room. She takes one look at me and shakes her head. “She’s damn near impossible to walk away from, isn’t she?” The woman looks tired.

  “How is she?” The doctors weren’t telling me anything. I’m not family. I glance around the room and force myself to ask, “Where’s Webber?” I hate myself for wishing him to perdition. If he’s inside with her… well… at least she isn’t alone. The thought steals my breath. But if he isn’t…

  Teri blinks away tears. “Charlie’s in a coma. They don’t seem too worried. Her blood pressure’s back down, and the baby is fine. She’s in recovery still. They said I can see her in a little while.”

  I’m shaking. My Charlie? In a coma?

  “Webber with her?” I have to know. He’s Squirt’s fucking father.

  Teri shakes her head in disdain. “I don’t understand why she ever dated him in the first place. Spineless son of a bitch.”

  “Does he know?”

  At these words, Charlie’s friend actually laughs. But it’s a humorless sound. “He was there when she started seizing.” The thought of Charlie having a seizure. I can’t think of it. I can’t imagine her…

  “He had a meeting with some VIPs,” she explains. “Told me he couldn’t get away. Gave me permission to go with her. So big of him, don’t you think?”

  I look around at the empty waiting room. “What about her dad?” I know her mom can’t be there for her.

  “Another rat bastard who’s let her down.” Teri eyes me meaningfully. “If you intend to join their ranks, I’d like to kindly ask you to go the hell back to wherever you came from. She doesn’t need any more of this bullshit.”

  I drop into the seat beside her and we wait.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Charlie

  It’s difficult for me to keep track of what’s going on. One minute I’m walking into work, and the next I’m in the back of an ambulance. Beeping sound. Needles. Blood pressure cuff squeezing my arms.

  “Squirt?” I struggle to talk. “My baby?”

  “Hi, Charlie. My name is Derek. We’re gonna take a quick ride to the hospital. Can you tell me what’s going on?” This guy, Derek, stands over me. He’s wearing a dark blue uniform. He’s calm, brushing my hair out of my eyes. “Have you had any contractions?”

  I barely answer him with a shake of my head.

  “Headache? Vision disturbance?” Yes. I try to say but my mouth won’t work. “She’s seizing.” He’s talking to somebody else. “Blood pressure 195/116.” Maybe he’s talking into a radio.

  I feel like I’m caught in an underwater tornado. Am I breathing? I must be. What did I do? Did I do something wrong?

  Squirt?

  Colt?

  I think I might be crying. I drift in and out, and the next time I’m somewhat lucid I’m being rolled through sliding glass doors. At work? No. Not at work. Why would they be rolling me into work?

  The guy who was with me before pats my arm. Is he leaving me too? “You’re leaving me?” It’s what they do. They leave.

  I’m in a hospital. People in white coats surround me. Suddenly I catch sight of Mara. She looks worried. I can’t lose Squirt too. He hasn’t turned yet. Is that why I’m here?

  “Cesarean.” They’re talking to one another. I hear voices fading in and out. “Toxemia.”

  I close my eyes. Keeping them open is impossible right now.

  My mom is here. She looks so young, smiling up at my dad. Dad’s hugging her affectionately. We’re a family. I feel warm. They’ll watch out for me. They’ll make sure everything’s all right.

  But then my dad takes off his wedding ring. Mom is broken. Dad embraces another woman.

  Except he’s not my dad. He’s Colt. “I love you, babe.” He’s not kissing somebody else. He’s kissing my forehead. “I’m so sorry. Just come back to me. Come back and see your beautiful little girl. Did you know Squirt was a girl? She’s so fucking beautiful, babe.” He seems to choke on his words. “Come back to me, babe.”

  Someone is holding my hand.

  Colt?

  I flutter my eyes open. I must be dreaming. Dirty blond hair, messier than usual. He looks like he hasn’t shaved in days. His eyes are closed but dark circles are etched beneath them. A black T-shirt stretches across his beautiful chest. His lips are moving in some sort of whispered prayer.

  “Colt?” My voice comes out raspy, but at least my mouth is working now.

  His gaze flicks to me and then widens. “Charlie? Oh God, Charlie.” He’s holding one of my hands pressed against his lips.

  “Squirt?” I need to know. “Squirt’s a girl? Is she okay?” Is he really here? When? My baby…

  Colt kisses my knuckles without allowing his gaze to move from my face. His thunder blue eyes shine with unshed tears. “She’s in the nursery. Perfect. Seven pounds, two ounces. Twenty-two inches long. Blond hair like her mama. Ten little fingers and ten toes.” He stares at me intently, as though he’s afraid to look away. “Your blood pressure skyrocketed. Do you remember? I was so damn scared.” One tear overflows and rolls down his cheek. He shakes his head, seeming to be annoyed at himself.

  I can’t help myself. I move our hands to his cheek and brush the single line of moisture away with my fingers.

  “You’ll get her for me?” He blinks and nods his head.

  He looks like he hasn’t slept in days. “Let me find the nurse.” When he reluctantly places my hand on the bed, I feel bereft without his touch.

  I move my hand to my stomach. It’s not as flat as I would have thought but no more hard bump. “A girl? I have a girl? I’m a mom.” This is not the way I’d planned it. But just as long as she’s okay.

  Tiny wrinkles form around his eyes when he chuckles. “You’re a mom to a perfect little girl. Let me track her down.” He presses another kiss to my forehead.

  Panic claws at me in an instant. Is he even real? “You’ll come back?”

  He must hear something in my voice because ever so gently he bends down and wraps me in his arms. I feel his warmth, breathe in the masculine scent that’s uniquely him. I’ve missed this so much. So much.

  Now I’m the one crying.

  Colt squeezes me tight now. He’s kissing my hair, my eyes.

  And then his voice rasps behind my ear. “I can’t stay away from you, babe. Haven’t you figured it out yet? You whispered me home.”

  A few minutes later, I’m holding my baby.

  My baby!

  She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Pale blue eyes, Blond little tufts of hair. Holding her like this, I barely notice the nurse checking my blood pressure and taking notes.

  I can’t stop the tears that roll down my face. I don’t care. Not only am I holding my baby, but Colt’s sitting next to me, watching us both with… love? Yes. With love.

  “Everything looks good!” The nurse chirps and then glances between Colt and me. “You look so familiar.” Her eyes settle on Colt.

  “I hear that a lot.” He smiles.

  “Ah. Well. They say everybody has a twin, right?” She rolls up the pressure cuff and hangs it on a rolling cart. “I’ll leave mom and dad alone for a while.”

  “I’ll take good care of these two.” Colt doesn’t contradict her assumption.

  After she disappears, Colt slides onto the bed next to me. With his arm around me and this little pink bundle in my arms, I don’t think I could feel any happier.

  “Look at her, Colt.” I unwrap the blanket and reveal the tiny little arms and legs in this itty bitty T-shirt. “Oh, my God.” I’m in awe.

  Colt’s fingers stroke her soft little cheek. “You did good.”

  “Squirt’s a girl.” I’m grinning so big it almost hurts.

  Colt squeezes me. “Squirt’s a girl.” A perfect moment. “Any idea what you want to name her?”

  I shake my head and laugh. “I thought she
was gonna be a boy.”

  “I know you did.” Laughter rumbles in his chest. He’s half behind me. Supporting me and my baby girl.

  “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

  “Just like her mama.”

  After a few minutes of just… being, I need to know why…

  “You came back,” I say. “You left me, but you came back.”

  Strong fingers brush my hair away from my face. “Nothing’s the same without you.” Those stormy blue eyes hold mine steadily. “Nothing. I’d already decided to call you when I heard…” A haunted expression crossed his face. “We finished the first concert, and all I could think of was you. I went back to the bus. I started thinking how it could be outfitted, with a crib, maybe. A few yoga mats…” He leans forward and captures my lips. So gentle.

  “I love you, Charlie Richards. I need you in my life. If you’ll take a chance on me, I’ll move heaven and earth to make you happy.”

  My heart has swelled to ten times its normal size. “Colt Forrester, are you asking me to go on the road with you?”

  He’s so serious. This sweet, sweet man. “I’m asking you to spend your life with me. I don’t want to just try. I want to do it.”

  His strength surrounds me. He’s ready to take control of his life.

  For him. For me. Me and Squirt.

  I really need to come up with a name for her.

  “Say something.” Just a hint of uncertainty enters his eyes.

  “Yes.”

  “You’ll come with me? His eyes light up.

  “Yes.”

  You love me?”

  I’m wrecked. Ruined. Utterly destroyed.

  “Yes.” And because he needs to hear it – again and every day for the rest of our lives – I say the words. “I love you, Colt Forrester.”

  He just stares at me with this big smile.

  “You’ll marry me?”

  He wants me to marry him? He’s only just come back. But his eyes burn with love. He’s different. The last few weeks have changed him. I know it’s crazy. I know I haven’t known him that long.

  But I just know.

  He’s the one.

  “Yes.” I finally answer him. He’s on a roll. Balancing my daughter on my lap, I reach up and pull his lips back down to mine. “Yes.”