Love of a Rockstar

by Nicole Simone

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  Luke kissed the side of my head. “You are amazingly talented. I’m proud to call you my baby mama.”

  “Gee, thanks,” I said. “That’s what every girl wants to hear.”

  “What can I say? I have a way with words.”

  Shaking my head, a slow grin spread across my lips. He was too cute to stay annoyed at. I ducked out from underneath his arm and dumped the dirty dishes in the sink.

  “Can you check on Nil while I wash the dishes?” I asked.

  Luke’s hard chest pressed up against my back. I gripped the edge of the counter as his smell dizzied my senses. “If you decide to dump Finn, I rented a hotel room at the Ritz for us,” he murmured, his voice like velvet. “We would have the whole night to ourselves.”

  “You’re playing dirty. That’s not fair.”

  “I like playing dirty, especially with you.”

  An image of Luke’s six pack abs drizzled in chocolate sauce flashed in my mind. I nearly groaned out loud as I pictured myself licking it off of him.

  “You won’t regret it.” Luke’s hot breath tickled my neck. “Because I am dying to get you in bed and have my way with you.”

  With a quick pat on my ass, he retreated down the hallway. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding and picked up a plate. In the throes of ecstasy I wouldn’t regret dumping Finn, but five months down the line when Luke was on tour and I was home alone, I would. A couple of seconds later, I heard the familiar sound of little footsteps.

  “Mommy, I had a dream I was a princess,” Nil announced excitedly, “And – and, a white pony visited me. Can I have a pony?”

  I spun around to the sight of my daughter’s big blue eyes staring up at me. Her blonde curls looked as perfect as they did before she fell asleep. I felt sorry for the man who would marry her. It was hard not to give her what she wanted.

  “Sweetie, only rich people can afford ponies,” I said, candidly.

  Her mouth scrunched to the side. “Are we rich people?”

  I smiled at her innocent question. Sometimes, I wished to be four years old again when the power of money was a foreign concept.

  “No, but when we are, I’ll let you know.”

  “OK,” she said simply. “Can I have a juice box?”

  I cut a glance over to Luke, already grabbing it from the fridge. Handing the purple box to Nil, he guided her to the dining room table where she took a seat.

  “Alright, I have to get a move on.” Luke bent down and pressed a light kiss on Nil’s forehead. We hadn’t talked about it, but I could tell his impending departure tomorrow weighed heavily on his mind.

  “Where are you going daddy?” Nil asked.

  “To play music.”

  She noisily sucked the juice through the straw. “Can I come?”

  My innocent four-year-old daughter at a concert surrounded by a bunch of drunken buffoons was any parent’s worst nightmare. Luckily, Luke had the good sense to realize that.

  “Sorry not tonight. Maybe when you’re older.”

  “A lot older,” I cut in. “Like when you’re eighteen years older.”

  He gave me a funny look. “It’s not as if my fans are a bunch of demon worshippers. I was fourteen when I saw my first concert. It changed my life.”

  I didn’t want to think about Nil as a fourteen year old. Let alone any age besides the one she was at now. It freaked me out how quickly timed passed.

  “Fine, we’ll discuss it in ten years,” I said.

  Concern lined his mouth. “Can we talk for a second?” He gestured to the other side of the room away from Nil.

  I followed him. When we were out of earshot, I said, “What’s up?”

  “I don’t know how to ask you this, because I know you’re proud, but…”

  “Just spit it out, Luke.”

  He glanced up at the ceiling then looked back down at me, hesitant. “Are you OK for money?”

  I let out a short laugh. The overdue bills shoved in a drawer said otherwise, but I didn’t want Luke to know that. It was important for him to think I had my shit together. That the life I provided for our daughter was just fine without his help.

  “Yup. Why do you ask?”

  He ran a hand through his thick brown hair, “Because you said only rich people have ponies.”

  I titled my head to the side flummoxed at how he got the impression I was poor from that comment. “I’m really fine,” I said

  Luke studied my face for any sign I might be lying. When I held his gaze, he sighed heavily.

  “I know you wouldn’t tell me otherwise, but please, if you need help, don’t hesitate to ask.”

  The concern he had for us was sweet but I would never accept a hand out.

  “I don’t need your money,” I said softly. “What I do need is for you to be a father to our daughter which is exactly what you’re doing.”

  ONCE LUKE LEFT, I focused on finding a babysitter for Nil. Hopefully, my grandmother could leave her boyfriend for an evening. I rinsed the last plate and wiped my wet hands with a paper towel.

  “Hey Nil, do you want Grandma Doris to come over tonight?” I asked.

  She kept her eyes focused on the book in front of her. Madeline was my favorite bedtime story when I was younger, too, and I passed it down to her. Even though Nil couldn’t read all the words, the illustrations of Paris enchanted her.

  I waved my hands in the air to get her attention. “Hey.”

  When she didn’t glance up, it was as if I didn’t exist. Only the imaginary world of Madeline did. It was probably a good time to get used to being ignored. In a couple years, it might be a natural occurrence. Grabbing my cell phone off the counter, I dialed Grandma Doris number.

  “Hello sweet pea, how are you?” she chirped brightly.

  The last time she called me by that nickname was when Grandpa was still alive, ten years ago. It was nice to see her old self re-emerging.

  “Good, thanks,” I replied. “You think you can come by and watch Nil tonight?”

  “That should be fine. Is it alright if Ted comes as well?”

  It was against my rule to have strange men in my house. Although, he was my grandmother’s boyfriend, I didn’t know him personally.

  “I am sure he is a great guy, but I have never met him before.”

  Doris let out a high pitch giggle. A sound that was odd coming from a seventy-five year old. “I have a feeling that’ll change soon enough.”

  If my grandmother was implying I should meet him before I left tonight, then I guess I could. But it would have to be a hello and goodbye kind of introduction. With traffic, I didn’t have time to dawdle

  “Alright, I guess I can meet your boyfriend real quick tonight.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend, Marlene.” She drew a lengthy breath. “He’s my fiancé.”

  The phone almost dropped out of my hands. My grandmother wasn’t the compulsive type; it took her nine years to get a dog. And marriage was a much bigger commitment. She should know. She was married to my grandpa for almost forty years.

  “When did you decide this?” I sputtered.

  “Yesterday over lunch.”

  “What happened? Did the waiter ask if you wanted a side of marriage with your salad?”

  My grandmother clucked her tongue in disapproval. “Don’t be nasty.”

  Remorse over my snide comment washed over me. I was fine with her having a boyfriend, but a husband? That was a whole different enchilada. My grandfather was an outstanding man and it pained me to think I had to hand over the title to somebody I never met.

  “Sorry, but why get married?” I questioned. “Can’t you just live together?”

  She laughed as if the concept was ridiculous, “When you’re my age, you have nothing to lose. I want to spend the little time I have left with the man I love.”

  “Didn’t you love grandpa?”

  “Very much, but I told you it wasn’t the kind of love where my heart stopped in
my chest at the sight of him.”

  “So what? You regret marrying him?” My voice rose. “Is that what you’re saying?”

  “Not at all. I’m glad I didn’t have that kind of love when I was younger. What I felt for your grandfather was simpler and not so complex. More beautiful in a way.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said. “Explain.”

  “Have you ever passed someone on the street and your eyes lock? Even though you don’t know the person, there’s a spark and it feels as if you have been looking for them your whole life?”

  I knew exactly what she was talking about, because that’s how it was when I first met Luke.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “That kind of undeniable attraction makes your emotions stronger, more destructive. You love each other so much it feels as if the world is on fire.”

  My brain wrapped itself around what she was implying, “So that kind of love never lasts because you end up hurting each other.”

  “Exactly,” she said.

  There was a story behind her philosophy on love. I could feel it. She sounded like a woman scorned and it was about time she divulged exactly what went wrong.

  “Grandma, what happened?” I questioned.

  “What do you mean?”

  I filled a glass with juice and took a sip. “You don’t settle for comfortable unless your heart has been so shattered by another man that you’re afraid to love like that again,” I said, speaking from experience.

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Obviously you’re marrying Ted because you’re crazy about him so your ideology doesn’t really apply anymore.”

  My grandmother paused. “That’s because it was him.”

  “What?”

  “Ted.” She took a shuddering breath. “Ted was the man who broke my heart all those years ago.”

  My mouth fell open at her admission. “Seriously?”

  “Yes we met when we were eighteen and two months later we were engaged to be married. The night before the wedding he disappeared.”

  This Ted guy sounded like an asshat. At least Luke left a note when he left and tried to periodically call. I couldn’t imagine what it felt like to have the love of your life vanish into thin air.

  “How did you cope?” I asked.

  “By marrying your grandfather who I knew was a steady presence,” she said. “And like I said, I don’t regret it for a second. Your grandfather and I had a wonderful life together.”

  “But he wasn’t Ted.”

  “No.” She breathed. “He wasn’t.”

  Fear turned my blood cold. Was my grandmother’s life a glimpse into the future I would have if I stayed with Finn? Day after day always wondering what if?

  AFTER I HUNG up with my grandmother, I ran next door and asked if my neighbor Ashley could keep an eye on Nil for twenty minutes. Her three young daughters adored playing dress up with Nil. When Ashley agreed, I dropped off Nil and began the short walk to Luke’s hotel to tell him about Paris. My grandmother’s story of how her lost love came back to her struck a nerve. Twenty years from now, I wanted to be confident in the decisions I made and happy where I was in life. Since sleeping with Luke wasn’t going to happen, my only other choice was to tell him about Paris. His answer would determine if giving up my dream was worth a life together.

  As I strolled along West Mercer Street, a heavy snow descended from the clouds. I rubbed my hands together and cursed myself for not wearing mittens. Mid stride, a snowball wacked me in the face accompanied by squeals of laughter. Freezing ice water dripped down my cheek.

  “What the hell?” I sputtered.

  It just started snowing two seconds ago, how could anybody get enough snow to make a snowball? I looked left and the laughing stopped as a group of teenagers avoided eye contact and shuffled off in the opposite direction. I prayed that when Nil was their age, she would at least have the decency to apologize. Wiping the moisture off my face, I continued onward to Luke’s hotel. Hopefully he hadn’t left yet for the stadium where the concert was being held.

  It amazed me how, in four short years, he had gone from hole-in-the-wall bars to a stadium. Then again, from the moment I met him, I knew he was destined to become a star. In the distance, a bright pink pig statue stood out against the gray clouds, which meant I was close. Due to my horrible sense of direction, I relied on visual markers instead of maps to lead me. Halfway across the street, an issue of Us Weekly at a small newsstand caught my eye. Normally, I wasn’t a huge fan of trashy magazines but the headline piqued my interest.

  Hustling over, my heart dropped to my toes when I saw the cover image. Luke was in a passionate embrace with a woman in a bikini, the vast ocean glistening behind them. The headline read, “Romance heats up!” Everybody says what you read in trashy magazines was false, but the kiss Luke was sharing with this woman looked real to me. Flipping to the corresponding article, additional pictures of them flocking on the beach were scattered over the page. I held out an ounce of faith she was an ex-girlfriend. My eyes skimmed over the story until I got to the last two sentences.

  “Mellissa Rogers and Luke met last month when she was a backup dancer for one of his videos. According to a source, they have been hot and heavy since.”

  The date of when the photos were taken was highlighted underneath, November 12th a week ago today. Tears blurred my vision. Luke had a girlfriend. And not just any girlfriend. A backup dancer who looked as if cake wasn’t in her vocabulary.

  “Fuck,” I mumbled to myself.

  At least this proved what I had suspected. Luke was a man who left broken hearts in his wake as he pursued the next best thing. Whether that be a woman or an opportunity. Throwing the magazine back on the rack, my choice to move to Paris became crystal clear. I better start learning French.

  BY THE TIME I got home, the snow had turned into a light flurry. I stomped my boots on Ashley’s welcome mat before I knocked on her door. She answered looking frazzled.

  “Hi, come in.” Ashley stepped aside. “Excuse the mess. It’s been a hectic day.”

  I wandered into her living room that, like mine, had a chaotic mess of toys strewn about. Her three little girls were off in a corner playing dress up while Nil was alone staring out the front window. I looked over at Ashley for an explanation.

  She shrugged and lowered her voice. “Nil wouldn’t budge. She wanted to stay exactly where she was.”

  “Oh.”

  I was already aware my daughter preferred animals to people, but I figured since she knew Ashley’s daughters, she would step out of her shell and interact with them. Walking up behind her, I followed her gaze, and saw a young woman walking her dog.

  “Whatcha doing?” I questioned.

  “Waiting for Daddy.”

  Although Luke was a player, the last day or two had proven he was a good dad. Our romantic relationship wouldn’t be rekindled, but I had faith Luke and Nil’s relationship would strengthen. He looked at her as if she hung the moon. ,

  “He told you he’s playing a concert tonight,” I said. “He won’t be home until tomorrow morning.”

  She crossed her legs Indian style on the carpet. “I’ll sleep here then.”

  While I admired her determination, it didn’t make life easy for me. Sighing, I sat down next to her and prepared what I was about to tell her.

  “Jellybean. Look at me.”

  My affectionate nickname for her was born the day she painted her face blue with my eye shadow and looked exactly like a blueberry jellybean. The name stuck ever since.

  Nils’s eyes stayed glued to the carpet. “I want to wait.” Her voice broke. “He’d want me to wait.”

  I brushed a stray blonde lock off her forehead. “Jellybean, he wouldn’t want you to wait all night,” I said, gently. “I promise as soon as you wake up tomorrow morning, he’ll be back.”

  She lifted her gaze to my face. “Promise?”

  We locked pinkies to seal my word in stone. “Promise” I sa
id. “But I need you to know your dad isn’t like a lot of other Dads.”

  Nil bunched up her lips in bewilderment. “Does he have an extra pinky toe? Because Lilly’s dad does, and he’s normal.”

  Maybe that wasn’t the best way to start the conversation. I tried again. “No, what I meant was, your dad doesn’t work from nine till five. Sometimes he’s gone for several months at a time.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Playing music for his fans.”

  “What’s a fan?” she questioned.

  “It’s somebody who really loves what you do and thinks you’re terrific,” I explained as best as I could.

  “I’m a fan of daddy,” Nil bounced up and down on her bottom, excited. “So he can play music for me and stay.”

  I wished it were that simple and Luke could survive off an audience of one. However, life doesn’t play fair, which was hard to articulate to a four year old.

  “I’m afraid it’s more complicated than that,” I broke to her gently. “He has thousands of people counting on him. You have to share your dad with them.”

  “I don’t want to share.”

  “Nobody wants to share, but you have to. It’s all part of growing up. Can you be a big girl for me?”

  With those two magic words, “big girl,” her posture straightened and her pout disappeared. Nil wanted to grow up so badly. She hated the idea of being little. I saw it in the way she refused my help with the smallest things like putting her shoes on. It made me wistful for the days when she relied on me, but holding onto the past would only suffocate her.

  “.Yes.” She ran her hand through the carpet. “Will daddy be home for my birthday?”

  Nil was born on Valentine’s Day. I was walking the aisles of Wal-Mart, trying to decide between a chocolate bar and a box of chocolates when my water broke. A little boy who was standing next to me screamed to his momma, “That lady just peed herself!” It wasn’t my proudest moment so I waddled away, paid for my box of chocolates and drove myself to the hospital where my grandmother was waiting for me. Nineteen hours later, my chubby Valentine came into the world.