“Since you’ve been gone, I’ve been thinking a lot. Been doing a lot too.” I had no response. Whatever he’d come for, I wasn’t going to make it easy on him. I breathed in and then out, waiting for Billy to continue. He sat on a low table, all casual, like rock stars in classrooms were an everyday occurrence. My students remained captivated. That was part of Billy’s charm, wherever he went, he commanded an audience. “I’ve met your father.”
I would’ve paid to see that. The Colonel and Billy facing off. “Oh? I’m surprised you still have all your body parts.” I crossed my arms. My whole body was shaking, threatening to fall apart, to kneel before Billy and beg him to love me.
He bit his lip. I remembered how he’d nibbled my skin. The marks had faded a couple weeks ago. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Yeah, he threatened dismemberment. The man is dark, flower. You think I’m bad with my subordinates? You should see all the brownnosers scurrying after him. I got held up at the gate—” In order to get on base you had to be on a visitor list or have a badge “—then I mentioned Colonel Clemmens and bam, the man himself showed up with an entourage that puts mine to shame.”
“That’s how you got on base, my father gave you access?” I couldn’t quite believe it. My father was not a fan of Billy Wanks.
“He did.” Billy straightened, standing. “We had a lovely little chat, him and I. Well, after we got past the threatening to kill me part.”
“What did you guys talk about?” It pained me to look at him.
“We talked about red-headed women named after flowers who changed our lives, loved us, and how we lost them.”
Tears burned the back of my throat. Fuck, I was such a baby. Warm fingers wrapped around my wrist. “I know you and the Colonel have your issues but he loves you, flower.” He forced my fingers open and kissed my palm, right above the heart line. “And I love you, too.”
I snatched my hand back. Billy’s eyes darkened. My old self-esteem issues bubbled to the surface. Every girl has them. This was also accompanied by a last bid at self-preservation. “You’re just saying that because you want me to iron your shirts or find you blue suede for your dressing room or fill Jett’s pudding cups with mayo.”
Billy sighed and stared up the ceiling, hands on his fine hips. “Christ, I knew you were going to be difficult. Good thing I came prepared.”
Suddenly the man was on me. Teddy was pushed to the side. I totally owed the kid an apology. The room blurred as I was lifted into Billy’s arms. “What are you doing?” I hissed. I slapped his bicep. “Put me down. I’m in the middle of working.”
“Be quiet now, flower. I’m rescuing you from this god awful place.” The school was brand new and state of the art.
“What?” I squealed as Billy started walking, carting me from the classroom.
“I watched that movie.”
Teachers and kids were in the hallway. Curious faces surrounded me. Fuck, this was embarrassing. I hid my face in Billy’s shoulder. “What movie?” I had no idea what he was talking about. My brain couldn’t process what was happening. Little footsteps padded behind us. I peeked over Billy’s shoulder. My students were following us, kind of like ducklings with their mama. I gave them a little finger wave. “Everything’s okay guys,” I said.
Billy’s hand palmed my head forcing it back down on his shoulder. “An Officer and a Gentleman,” he explained. “Made the guys watch it too. It’s an awful movie. Full of clichés and shows far too much of Richard Gere’s ass. You have terrible taste in films and game shows. I sincerely hope our children don’t inherit it.”
I closed my eyes. In the last twenty minutes he’d told me he loved me and then promised me kids. Everything I’d asked for he was handing over on a silver platter. Bitter Daisy didn’t believe it. “Don’t play with me, Billy. Please, I can’t take it. If you don’t mean—”
His lips brushed against my hair. “I mean every fucking word, flower. I’m sorry for all the shit I did. I know I’m impossible to love. But you loved me anyway. For free. And I wasted it. I won’t make the same mistake again.”
I moved my head so I could peer at him. His green eyes shone bright and sincere. My fantasy happy ending morphed into reality. Words failed me. He kept walking. Damn, the man was strong. He showed no signs of tiring. The front doors of the school came into view. Through the windows I saw an even bigger crowd. Billy kicked them open and we were outside. Holy shit, the whole band was there, plus roadies, and security and other people I didn’t recognize. Addy was there, too, standing and smiling, her heart in her eyes. All were dressed as factory workers. It was a weird rendition of An Officer and a Gentleman, come to life in a military base school parking lot. Turner, Chord and Jett stepped forward. They each a held a guitar by its neck.
“I’m not fucking doing this,” Turner groused.
Jett slapped him upside his head with his free hand. “Just play the fucking song. We practiced all the way over here.”
Turner rolled his eyes. “You owe me for this, Wanks,” he said to Billy. “You’re lucky I like Daisy.”
The guys started to play, a tune I recognized: “Up Where We Belong,” the song from An Officer and a Gentleman. Jett sang, “Who knows what tomorrow brings …”
Billy shifted, letting me slide down his body. He wiped his hands on his jeans. The man was nervous. I didn’t think he was capable of the jitters. “Christ,” he muttered. “My heart’s beating so fast.” He knelt down on one knee. The magnitude of the moment hit me full force. Billy dug into his pocket and produced a box. He popped the lid. The crowd cheered, flags waved in the air. “I asked to borrow your father’s uniform for this but he refused. He seemed rather offended,” Billy said, confused.
“That sounds like him,” I said, my voice thick with all the emotions.
“I’m not an officer, and I’m sure as hell no gentleman but I love you, flower. Will you marry me?”
I smiled, tears cascaded down my cheeks. I gazed at the big rock inside the box. I bent and closed it. “No,” I said.
The music stopped abruptly.
The crowd quieted.
I sure knew how to crush a party.
“I don’t understand.” Billy stood, all sorts of wounded and confused.
I grabbed two fistfuls of his white tee and brought him closer to me, so our noses touched. “I don’t want to get married. I don’t think you want to get married either. I just want you. I don’t need a piece of paper to prove anything. If you love me that’s all I want.”
Strong arms wrapped around me. Billy held me tight. “Does this mean you’ll come back?” he asked, face buried in my hair. “I’m so sorry, flower. I know I’m not an easy man but I love you. So damn much. Fuck, you’re under my skin.”
“I love you, too,” I said, sniffing.
Billy turned to the crowd. “We’re not getting married but we’re staying together forever.” Shouts and cheers from the crowd. The band started to play again. People began dancing.
Hot kisses pressed against my neck, then Billy’s mouth found mine. His tongue slipped in, taking the kiss from G-rated to R. I remembered where we were. Our audience. “We’re at a school,” I said.
“You’re right, let’s get out of here.”
“Um.” I toed the sidewalk.
“Spit it out.”
“I’m at work.” I gestured to my ducklings-slash-second graders, dancing on the lawn. “I’ll give my notice, but I need to wait until they can replace me.”
“All right then. I guess we’ll have to stay then. How do you think the Colonel would feel about the band and me bunking up in his house?”
I laughed and kissed him.
“I’m serious, flower,” he grunted.
“I know.”
We kissed some more. And then because the kids missed lunch, Billy ordered pizza and ice cream sundaes for the class. I’d caused such a ruckus that I actually got fired the next day. It didn’t matter. I didn’t care. It just put me back into Billy’s arms sooner.
I didn’t need my own classroom or students or a marriage certificate. I had Billy and Addy and the band. And that was enough.
We decided to wait to have a baby. And by wait, I mean nearly a decade. I thought it best to hold off until Addy graduated high school and went to college. Getting pregnant turned out to be its own challenge. We tried for a while, then turned to fertility treatments. Billy crowned himself, “Champion of Jerking Off into Cups.” And I guess he was, because we ended up with a baby that way. I was nearly eight and half months along. My abdomen stretched round as if I’d devoured a basketball. Backstage, I swayed along to the music. The baby in my belly kicked and I bent over, grunting in pain.
“What’s the matter? Is it time?” Trent was beside me in an instant. Since my due date had drawn closer, Billy had Trent trailing me. The big man was stuck to me like glue and every time I winced he was all over me.
“No,” I shooed him away. “The little guy is just kicking. He hates this song.” On stage Billy sang a song from an earlier album. Something about doing women and leaving them in the morning. So romantic. Another swift kick to the ribs and I sucked in a breath. Across the way, I saw Wild Minds, the co-headlining band, getting ready to go on stage. Addy propped up on her tiptoes and kissed the lead singer, a man she once called “King of the Assholes.” They’d gotten married in secret. Billy and Addy had hit a rough patch after that. My cranky rocker hated the idea of his little girl married to another musician. And by hate I mean detested, loathed, couldn’t abide. But all seemed well now. Water under the bridge and all that.
“Maybe you should go sit down. Billy said you should be resting.”
My mouth screwed up. “Billy said,” I mocked. Oh also, pregnancy had made me into a hormonal bitch. I even faked being sick just to spend a few extra days in the hospital and get a break from the tour, a move I thought might send Billy over the edge. Poor man, when he fell, he fell hard. Yeah, I’d definitely put him through the ringer over the last few months. But I couldn’t really muster feeling bad about it. Not when the kid inside me was using my organs as punching bags.
A vicious cramp ran through my side. I gritted my teeth. It was Billy’s last concert on his final farewell tour. I would not miss it. My rocker had decided to retire. For a guy who never wanted to build white picket fences he sure talked a lot about settling down in a permanent home. The song ended.
“Daisy,” Trent sighed, a sign of his weariness. I was such a handful.
“You know Trent, I’m trying really hard to be nice to you right now.” Sweat broke out on my forehead. Okay, if I was being honest, I might have been having contractions all day.
The wail of an electric guitar pierced the air. The crowd screamed. I did too. But for an entirely different reason. Pain rippled down my side. Wetness gushed between my legs. Trent went white as a sheet. Billy had made the entire crew read, What to Expect When You’re Expecting, so they could “support” me. Everyone on tour now had intimate knowledge of labor and birth, which meant they all felt like fucking experts. I’d endured unwanted advice from roadies, Trent, even Turner. Today the baby is the size of a prune, Daisy. Did you know your cervix acts as a sort of plug keeping the baby in? Don’t worry about spotting unless it’s bright red or heavy. You might shit when you’re in labor, nothing to be embarrassed about, all a natural part of giving birth. How’s your folic acid intake?
“Daisy?” Trent said very, very carefully. “I think your water just broke.”
I looked at the puddle at my feet. “No shit Sherlock.” Another contraction and I grabbed Trent’s forearm, digging my fingernails into his flesh. The big man didn’t even flinch. Around Trent’s neck was an earpiece. He spoke into the microphone. “The eagle is landing. Repeat, the eagle is landing, this is not a drill.” When I was six months along Trent began running “labor drills.”
“Okay, Daisy,” said Trent. “Just breathe. The nearest hospital is fifteen minutes away. An ambulance should be here in five.”
I moaned, clutching my baby. “I want Billy.”
“Perry’s about to go on stage and get him.” The assistant had been with Billy about as long as me. I loved the skinny nerd, but he wasn’t moving fast enough. I wanted Billy. Now.
“I need to sit down.”
Trent gazed at the grimy, sticky floor. “I don’t think—”
Too late, my ass hit the ground. Another contraction arrived with the force of a typhoon.
“Daisy, I don’t think Billy would want you sitting on the floor,” said Addy behind me. Obviously, she hadn’t seen my sweat-drenched face yet. The girl still had trouble calling her father “dad,” although sometimes I think she did it to annoy him. They had a good relationship, but it wasn’t without its complications. Families were like that.
“Fuck Billy. He did this to me.” Oh, I’d read about this stage of labor. It was the “I’m in pain, time to blame everyone especially the love of my life,” part.
“Oh my god! Oh my god!” Addy chanted. “You’re in labor.”
“The next person who tells me I’m labor is getting a monkey bite.” I started to cry.
Trent crouched next to me. “Your contractions are too close together. I don’t think you’re going to make it to the hospital.”
What a terrible thing to say to a woman in labor. I fisted Trent’s shirt in my hand and pulled him close. Apparently, giving birth gave you superhuman strength; usually I wouldn’t be able to budge the big man. “I am not having this baby backstage at a concert. You find an ambulance, Trent. And you get me to the hospital. I want drugs. Lots and lots of drugs. And where the fuck is Billy?” I wailed.
“I’m here, flower.” Billy took Trent’s place, clutching my sweaty palm. His shirt was sweat soaked. An earpiece hung around his neck. The crowd booed, demanding Wanks and Janks return, and I hissed back at them. Not that they could hear, but it made me feel better.
“Nice of you to show up.” More crying.
“I don’t think we’re going to make it to the hospital,” Trent spoke to Billy.
I clamped my legs together, resisting like hell the urge to push.
Billy’s mouth formed a thin line. He nodded. “Okay. Do what you have to do.”
Oh, I didn’t like the sound of that. Trent slipped on a pair of gloves from a medical kit. His hand settled on my knee. “Daisy, I’m going to have to check you.”
I slapped his hands away. “Nobody’s going near my vagina unless they have an M.D. at the end of their name.”
“We’ve got a doctor coming but I need to take a look. C’mon, sweetheart, I’m a trained medical professional, ain’t nothing I haven’t seen before.” His gold tooth flashed with a gentle smile. It was in no way reassuring.
“I knew I should’ve hired a fucking doctor,” Billy bit out. He’d lined up some top medical professionals to be at my beck and call but I’d denied the OBGYN. “That’s a little far, isn’t it?” I’d gently chided back when I was in my first trimester. Ah, the good old days.
“We got one coming from Mercy Hospital,” Trent assured. A wave of contractions hit, one right after the other. The need to push and get this baby out became so overwhelming I didn’t care about Trent spreading my legs, or slipping my panties over my knees. The big, bald man got right up in there. I would never live down the humiliation. I was putting a “do not disturb” sign permanently on my vagina. “I can feel the baby’s head,” Trent said.
“Oh man, I want to see.” I recognized Turner’s voice. My lashes fluttered up. The band stood over me. What the fuck. My hand skirted the floor, looking for something to throw at them.
“My vagina is not a museum,” I gritted out.
“She’s right, mates. If you want to stay you got stand at the head only.” Turner grumped and did as he was told, the rest of the band, too. Blessedly I couldn’t see them. Security had formed a tight circle around us, insuring privacy. They’d even turned their backs.
“Go ahead and push, Daisy.” I did as Trent commanded and bore down. I
squeezed Billy’s hand. Addy was on my other side, gripping my forearm. On stage, Wild Minds started to play.
“I don’t want my baby to be born at a rock concert,” I ground out.
“Kind of too late for that,” Billy mumbled against a smile.
“Not funny,” I yelled.
“She’s crowning. The head’s coming out,” said Trent.
I so didn’t need his narration, because I could feel. My poor, poor vagina. It’d never be the same. No more babies after this. Fertility issues or not, Billy was double bagging it from now on.
Push, push, push was all I could think; pain was all I could feel. Then the pressure eased. My baby slipped out into the waiting arms of Trent. The tattooed, gold-toothed thug grinned down at the squirming mess. An unholy cry wrenched the air. Not from me, from the little guy I’d just delivered.
I slumped back, relieved and ever so tired. Trent wrapped my baby up in a blanket and placed him against my chest. My baby. Here at last.
“Look what we made,” I said to Billy.
Tears clouded my rocker’s eyes. It was the first time I’d ever seen him cry. “What should we name him?”
I kissed my baby’s wrinkly forehead. “I think he looks like a Dylan.” We’d discussed names and had narrowed it down to two: Billy Jr. and Dylan. I think we both knew I’d been humoring Billy with the former name.
“Sounds good, flower.” Billy said, touching the place where I’d just kissed. Then he nuzzled my neck. “I love you,” he said. Everything felt hazy and perfect.
The ambulance showed up, fifteen minutes too late. Billy rode with me. Everyone else followed behind. I cuddled Dylan against me.
Billy kissed the tip of my nose. “What do you think, flower, now that we got a baby, you going to make an honest man of me?” He’d been joking like this for a few weeks now. Putting a hard press on the marriage issue. Pouting when I refused. The shit he’d said years ago had set in deep. So I was reluctant to say yes. I’d meant what I’d said when he proposed the first time at the school. I didn’t need a piece of paper. “C’mon, flower,” Billy cajoled. “Don’t want our boy growing up in a broken home. Marry me, I can have a priest meet us at the hospital.”
Hard Lessons: (A Wild Minds Prequel Novel) Page 19
