They planned on working in the studio most days, writing new songs, and recording the ones that were ready. And Buzz worked out a schedule where they could play with Gracie on Friday and Saturday nights for the whole month. Buzz also hooked us up with a flight home again, sans Danny this time. Calon and I rented a car since the van was in LA, and I drove us the whole six hours from Knoxville to Martin, my hometown. The guys headed to their respective families for the holidays.
“Are you sure you know where you’re going?” Calon seemed concerned. He was more nervous about how far from civilization we were than I was about introducing my mom to the rock star that had gotten me pregnant. I had chickened out and told her the big news over the phone. She wasn’t thrilled but had been in my shoes at the same age, so she didn’t do the whole ‘you’re ruining your life’ speech.
“Of course, I know where I’m going, dork.” I laughed hard.
“We’ve seen nothing but trees for almost three hours, Becki. It feels like we’re out in the middle of nowhere. You know, like where they filmed Children of the Corn.”
“Funny, you’d think they’d need corn to film that.” I laughed harder.
“I just mean there’s literally nothing here.” He tapped his foot, and I wondered whether it was to the beat of James’s “Laid” that played on the radio or out of nervousness about meeting my mom.
“Are you nervous about meeting Joan?”
“Joan?”
“My mom, Calon. Her name is Joan. You are nervous, aren’t you?”
“A little.” For a moment, I saw him as a little boy; big green eyes, pudgy cheeks, and big pouty lips. My heart swelled. I was so in love with him that even the image in my mind of him as a little kid melted me. That’s when I realized I’d never even seen a childhood photo of him. I wondered if he had any or if his mom, whom he hadn’t had contact with in years, was the only one who would have any.
“Calon.” I reached over and took his fidgeting hand in mine and rested them on his thigh. “She’s harmless, babe. She had me when she was twenty-one, so she gets it. She’s not going to react like Gracie’s mom would if Jake knocked up her baby girl.”
“But you said she wasn’t happy when you told her.” He frowned, like he’d internalized my mom’s disappointment as his fault.
“What mom would be happy that her daughter got pregnant before graduating college?” I squeezed his hand, and he nodded in acknowledgment. “She wanted the planets to align for me, just like any parent hopes for their child.” I was still getting used to saying things like that and including myself in the broad umbrella term of parent.
“What do you hope for our baby, Becks?” He picked at his fingernails in his lap.
“Well, I hope he or she is happy, healthy, and kind. I hope he or she has good friends and even better role models. I want the best of everything for her along with just enough disappointment to keep her grounded. I want her to stay away from assholes like Noah and his Sigma Chi brothers, and I hope she finds the cure for cancer.”
“She?”
“What?” He caught me off guard.
“You started out with he or she and then ended only saying she. Is our baby a girl?” I would have thought he’d been hoping for a boy, mostly because I just assumed all guys wanted their firstborn to be mini-men. The smile on his face told me otherwise. Calon was hoping for a girl.
“We’ll find out when we get back to Knoxville. I’ll finally have the ultrasound that could tell us the sex. So, you want to know?” I hadn’t really considered not finding out what we were having but realized I hadn’t asked him. It was nice to finally have a huge block of time to talk, just the two of us, without Danny and the guys around or appointments to keep.
“Hell yeah, I want to know. I’ve got work to do.”
“Work to do? Here I thought I was the one doing all the work.” I smiled and blew him a kiss.
“I want to turn my office in the apartment into a nursery. So, I need to know if we’re having a baby girl rock star or a baby boy rock star.”
“Shit, Calon. You’re the girl in this relationship.”
“WHAT? That’s not cool—” He got all defensive, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“I just mean, I’ve never been that girl that had names picked out for all my kids by the time I was twelve. I never expected to have kids. A nursery never even crossed my mind. If you’d have ditched me, I’d probably come home from the hospital and realize I had nowhere for the baby to sleep.”
“Well, after your shower, you’ll have tons of shit to clue you in to that kind of stuff.”
“Shower?”
“FUCK!”
“Calon James, Gracie is going to kick your ass!” I cackled so loud my ears rang. I didn’t give a shit that he’d just mentioned something that was supposed to catch me off guard and take me by surprise. I cracked up because he was so pissed at himself in that moment.
“Becki! Shit, Becki! You can’t tell her you know. Please, don’t tell her you know, just play along and be all surprised and stuff. Please, I had one job. That’s what she kept saying, ‘Calon, you have one job. Just keep the shower a secret. That’s it. One thing,’ and she repeated herself so many times I called her Rain Man.” He shook his head and growled at himself then mumbled, “One job, just one job.”
“Now, who’s Rain Man?” I howled. When I looked over at Calon he had pushed his bottom lip out and was looking at me through the curls that had fallen from behind his ear. A pang in my stomach and the precious look on that beautiful face had me looking for the next rest stop for just another taste of Calon James.
“IT’S VERY NICE to meet you, Mrs. Mowry.” My mom met us in the stony driveway of our tiny brick house. Calon handed her a small bouquet of flowers from the last gas station we stopped at on the way. I explained to him earlier in our ride why my mom changed both our last names to her maiden name after her divorce. It was simple. Her daughter ‘deserved to carry on a name that came with a long line of dependable, responsible ancestors, instead of a long line of assholes’, and she kept the ‘Mrs.’ to thwart the notion that she was a spinster.
“And it’s very nice to meet you, too, Calon.” My mom was in a daze. Calon, in all his beauty, had left her almost speechless. She held onto his hand longer than you should when someone shakes your hand, which made me laugh.
“Mom.” I motioned toward their hands, and she got all frazzled and pulled hers away.
“How about some dinner? You two must be starving.”
She was a phenomenal cook. I hadn’t realized how much I missed her cooking until I shoved the first piece of grilled zucchini in my mouth. She always made meat but knew I’d never touch it. So, she was thrilled when Calon piled half a cow on his plate before adding a few green beans, so I wouldn’t yell at him for not eating veggies.
It was strange. I looked around, and the house was exactly the same way it had been for as long as I could remember. A painting of a snowy cornfield hung over the piano we’d inherited, but no one knew how to play. A portrait of my grandparents sat next to the vase-shaped lamp on the little table next to the plaid couch. Calon saw me looking past him and into the living room. He cautiously turned around to try and see what had caught my attention before he went back to small talk with my mom.
In all the time I’d been away at college, never had I been homesick for my little house, and now a feeling of nostalgia that I didn’t quite understand hit me, causing me to get all teary. There was no hiding it from Calon or my mom, so all of a sudden they were handing me napkins, fawning all over me, and asking me what was wrong.
“Nothing’s wrong. Something just hit me about how familiar everything is here. There’s a peaceful comfort here that I guess I never slowed down long enough to notice. Thanks, Mom. Thanks for keeping such a nice home for us. I’m sorry I’m just now realizing how much I truly appreciate it. I’m sorry I never thanked you before.” I reached out and rubbed her soft hand.
Tears streamed down her face
, and we all laughed.
“You’ll have to excuse all the estrogen in this house, Calon. We should probably apologize ahead of time.”
“It’s nothing to apologize for. Being real is nothing to apologize for.” He smiled and shoved a huge chunk of cow into his face. My mom looked at me and raised her eyebrows, knowing I would interpret what question she was asking.
“Yeah, mom, he’s real.” I patted Calon on his leg. He didn’t follow our silent conversation, so he looked lost and a bit nervous.
“Wow.” My mom rolled her eyes and got up to start clearing the plates.
“Please, Mrs. Mowry, let me get it. You and Becki go sit and relax.”
Calon took a big swig of the beer Mom had handed him just minutes after we arrived. He stood up from the table and started stacking dishes. He walked over to where she stood with her mouth agape and took the small stack she’d already collected from the table. She was frozen with her hands poised as though they still held the stack of dishes and looked back and forth between me and Calon.
“Come on, Mom, let’s go sit on the porch.” She took my hand and walked toward the door. Calon gave me a quick kiss before she and I headed out into the chilly mid-fifties weather, which felt incredible. I had been so hot lately, the chill was a welcome shock to my system.
My mom sat on the porch swing and patted beside her. I felt like I was ten again, and she wanted to tell me where babies came from. It was obvious we both knew I was well aware of that lesson.
“You’re going to be a mom.” She stared straight ahead and took my hand in hers.
“Yeah.” I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly through my pursed lips.
“I should ground you for making me a grandmother before I’m fifty, you know?’ She squeezed my hand.
“You did it to Grandma. I’m just carrying on the Mowry tradition.” I raised an eyebrow and peeked at her out of the corner of my eye to see if she was amused by my reference to our dependable ancestry.
“Becki Jane, this is no joke. He’s a touring musician. How do you expect to have the normal life you need to raise a baby?” She shook her head and looked into her lap. Her tone was more concern than anger or disappointment.
“Mom, it will be our normal. Just because I won’t be sitting at home watching PBS all day in sweatpants and no make-up, doesn’t mean we can’t be a happy family.”
“People do it all the time. I know that. But, it’s just not what I pictured for you, honey.”
“Do you think Grandma pictured you and Daddy splitting? Do you think she pictured you being a single mom for most of my life?”
“No.”
“And this was our normal. It’s all I know. I like to think I turned out okay. Well, until the rock star knocked me up.” We giggled, and she nudged me with her shoulder.
“I didn’t knock you up.” Calon walked out with two cups of hot tea and handed them to us. He pulled up a deck chair and sat across from us.
“Well, ya kinda did.” I smiled at him. The father of my baby. Wow.
“Look, I hate that term because it insinuates a lack of commitment and not giving a shit… I’m sorry… I mean, not giving a second thought to what it means to bring a baby into the world.”
He looked directly at my mom and cleared his throat and sat up straight. “Mrs. Mowry, I never thought I’d be a dad. I didn’t have one. The men in my life just caused me pain. When Becki told me she was pregnant, something came over me that gave me a peace I never associated with being a parent.
“I am so in love with your daughter, Mrs. Mowry. I feel as though that sense of peace I felt was a sign of completion. Now, my life is complete. I have the woman I love, and we made a miracle. Not everyone is that lucky in life. I’m humbled to have been chosen to have this gift handed to me.” He smiled at her then turned his attention to me.
“Becki, I didn’t knock you up. We took what our hearts were telling us, and we made a baby. Something real. This is real. This is absolute.” He stood up and walked over to where I sat. He bent down, slid his hand around the back of my neck, kissed me gently, and whispered, “I love you. Absolute.”
I waited for the flutter in my chest to quell before saying anything. Even then all I could get out was his name in barely a whisper. He took my breath away.
He smiled and stood. “Ladies, I’m going to head out for a bit. Gonna explore this little town and hit the grocery store. I want to make something special for the two of you for breakfast tomorrow, so you both can just relax and enjoy Christmas without having to lift a finger. I’ll be back in a bit.”
He hopped down the steps, his curls bouncing all over the place. He smiled at us just before climbing into the car and pulling out of the driveway.
“I think you’re going to be okay, sweetheart. Calon is an amazing man. Wise beyond his years, it seems.”
“Yeah, he’s been through a lot in his life, things I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. But, it’s made him so strong and steadfast and sure of himself, which, I guess, is the positive that comes out of all the negative stuff that’s been thrown his way.” I took a sip of my tea.
“Well, that’s a beautiful way of looking at life and all its ups and downs. I’m proud of you, honey. You’re going to be a great mom.”
We hugged and then chatted about all kinds of stuff until it got too cold to sit on the porch. After we headed inside, I curled up under my favorite blanket on the couch and drifted off to sleep. I woke slowly and didn’t open my eyes right away. I heard voices coming from across the room. I peeked through one eye and could see Calon and my mom sitting at the table drinking coffee. They were both smiling and nodding along with whatever their conversation was. I drifted back to sleep with a contentedness I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt.
When the urgency in my bladder woke me, I opened my eyes and struggled to get to the bathroom without pissing myself then said goodnight to them and moved myself up to my old bedroom with the intention of climbing under the covers. Walking through that door it felt like stepping into a time machine. I instantly felt like I was in high school again.
I walked over to my dresser mirror and touched every curled photo I’d placed there over the years. As my gaze glanced over the photos, I thought about how I hadn’t seen any of the people in them since graduation. The realization crystalized how transparent and fleeting those friendships were.
A piece of glass topped my dresser and everything that most girls put in scrapbooks or photo collages was shoved under that piece of glass. There were movie tickets and dried rose petals, cut out cartoons from the Sunday paper, and a couple of birthday cards. Tracing my finger over each item, I pondered how literal that piece of glass was. I could see everything I held dear during my teen years, but I couldn’t touch them. They were set. I wondered what I would have said if the fortune teller downtown had predicted I’d be pregnant with a musician’s baby before I graduated college. I laughed out loud thinking about it. This would never have been my expectation for my life either.
I glanced up at the only part of the glass that was covered and slid my jewelry box to the side to see if I’d stuck anything underneath that corner. My hand flew to my chest as my breath deserted me and dizziness clouded my brain. A photo of my dad and me sitting on what looked to be a rock in a green grassy field shouted at me from under the glass. I touched the glass delicately, almost afraid to lay my hand so close to the person I’d tried so hard to push out of my mind. The man who put doubt in my heart about my worthiness to be loved all this time stared up at me. He was dressed in a short-sleeved white dress shirt and khakis. His dark wavy hair tousled over toward one side. My hair was in high pony tails with big red ribbons and there was a small American flag in my hands on my lap. His arms were around me; his head gently leaned against mine. A split second of my life, one I wished I could remember, caught through a lens but not made permanent in my heart. My fingers brushed my mouth as I looked at his. We had the same smile.
I remembered the day my mom
gave me that photo, and I remembered shoving it under the glass and setting my jewelry box on top of it. Not until that moment had I ever considered the devotion it took for my dad to stay with my mom throughout her unplanned pregnancy. I’d always focused on the fact that he left us and not on how long he stayed, trying to make it work. She once told me he worked three jobs to help them get by so she could be home with me. He was devoted to me and my mom, but their relationship just wasn’t strong enough to weather the storms.
What Calon had just said to my mom a couple hours earlier on the porch, about creating life and it being a tangible miracle that was proof of the depth of our love, made me wonder if my parents ever knew that kind of love, and if they had, why couldn’t they have made it work? The man in my mind, who left his only child behind, never to return, did not have the same look in his eyes that the father holding his daughter in the picture had. Prior to that moment, I imagined my dad as a grumpy, hands-off kind of dad, but I realized he wasn’t hands off. He was providing for his family, which happened to keep him away from us more than I would have liked. I looked back down at the picture of us. There he was, holding me, hugging me, and loving me. Sadly, all that was left of that love was a faded photo stuck under glass.
“Nice digs, Becks.” Calon nodded as he looked around my room. He shuffled over to me with his hands shoved in his pockets and a grin on his face that told me he was fantasizing about the teenager who used to shut the door to hide her secrets.
“Are you making fun of my room? There’s a lot of my life in here. And I know you’re not making fun of me. Do you realize how dangerous mocking a pregnant woman is?” I turned and walked until I bumped into his chest and wrapped my hands around his waist.
“I would never make fun of you—Cheer Captain Becki.” His last three words came out high pitched and obnoxious in a sad attempt to sound like a cheerleader. I looked up at him with a growl as he smirked and nodded his head toward the pompoms that hung on the headboard of my four-poster bed.
Above the Noise Page 19
