by Hadley Quinn
“This is crazy,” I finally said. “She’s been stalking me for years, sending shit to these tabloids about me, and what are the odds that we walked right into her business that night?” I asked with a sarcastic chuckle.
“I don’t know, man,” Luke laughed with me. “It’s fucking nuts. But it’s done, okay? Restraining order seems to be helping, although she does still have you on her radar. She keeps her distance like she’s required, but she’s still going to do what she can for attention. She makes a living off this crap, selling photos and information. It appears that she started using her real name with the whole psychic prediction story. She was obviously ready to capitalize on more business, that’s why she was so pissed when the tabloid used her other name instead. They’ve been stretching it out into several articles, though, and just recently revealed her as your ‘personal psychic’.” He laughed, and then shrugged as if to say “sorry.”
I waved it off. I no longer cared, just as long as she stayed away from me and the people I loved. It was more disturbing to see photos of Ivory way back when, not realizing this woman had been watching her too. And obviously she was a decent researcher because she knew Ivory’s full name before I did. No wonder she looked confused that day when I made a comment about piano keys. She really had been hoping to connect me to the Ivory from the bar.
“Thanks for taking the time,” I told Luke as I scooped everything up into a pile. I slid the papers back into the folder. “I appreciate how much you do for me.”
He shrugged as he stood. “It’s my job, you know that.”
“Hmm, I thought it was because we’re friends,” I joked.
Luke chuckled as he took the file from me. “You know you can count on me, man. Always.”
32
“Cowabunga, motherfuckers!!”
To think that came out of a ten-year-old’s mouth…
“Jason Michael Daughtry!” Missy screamed at her son. “You watch your mouth!”
He basically rolled his eyes at her. “Dad says it all the time.”
“Cowabunga?” eight-year-old Delilah innocently asked.
“No,” Jason scoffed. “Motherf—”
Missy clamped a hand over his mouth. “Don’t you dare,” she threatened him. “And seriously, you are at someone else’s house so have a little respect and stop jumping on the couch.”
He pulled her hand off his mouth and reached for the game controller again. I stood there in awe, watching these little humans give someone like Missy a run for her money. I knew she had her hands full because I’d been around her kids before, but this was a new level for the older one.
She turned to me and sighed. “You really sure about this? Because I’m not, Jude.” Lowering her voice she added, “Ever since their dad won joint custody, they’ve been spending way more time with his foul mouth and nasty habits. I can’t do anything about it, either. Darrel tells me to fuck off any time I ask to speak with him about agreeing on some limits.”
I had no idea what to say about her ex-husband and their parenting issues. I’d only met him one time and he made some rude comment about my music not being worth wet panties. He was an egotistical prick who drank too much, and I truly did feel sorry for Jason and Delilah. He’d been to a few AA meetings, so apparently that recently aided him more parental rights.
“You don’t have to apologize, Missy. The kids are fine here. They know me and they know Ivory. They’re used to Wes being in charge here, but they’ll get used to new rules.”
She seemed doubtful, but Ivory convinced her to get moving and she was out the door a few minutes later—after giving her kids several threats about what would happen if anything was reported broken, disobeyed, or stolen.
Stolen. Fabulous. Forgot Jason was a little kleptomaniac.
After Missy left for a weekend with her girlfriends, Ivory sat on the couch with both kids while I made dinner. Wes had moved out the month before, and even though he had occasionally watched his niece and nephew, I really hadn’t seen them much in the last six months. Jason especially seemed a lot different, just as Missy had warned me. Right now the kid was busy concentrating on his racing game while little Delilah played with Ivory’s jewelry.
“I want Uncle Wes,” Jason said after crashing his car for the third time in a row. He tossed his controller on the couch with a scowl. “He races me all the time.”
I knew that meant Wes always let him win, but I shrugged from the kitchen. “Sorry, dude. Uncle Wes is in London for the week.”
He made some sort of grunting noise as he picked up his controller again.
I wasn’t really a video game junkie, but Wes was. Occasionally I’d play with him if it was MLB Big Show, but this kid wasn’t into baseball and refused to play it. But I wasn’t surprised when Ivory picked up the other controller and said she’d not only race him, but kick his rear at it. The kid laughed at her, even saying there was no way a chick would beat him. I didn’t bother warning him, either. The boy needed to learn humility.
These last few months had been a rollercoaster of ups and down for Ivory and me. The life we shared together in Chicago was full of joy and amazing things. My newest album had hit Platinum again, and I couldn’t have been happier. I’d produced it under my own label, too. I no longer relied on recording companies, managers, or anyone else that wanted to control my time and money.
My priorities began with my wife and The Urchin, and both of those areas were solid. I continued to do weekend shows at the restaurant and still completely loved it. And even though the five-city tour had been a huge success months back, I wasn’t interested in doing another one any time soon. That short stint of spotlight had been good for me to heal, and I would probably do it again in another year or two, but for now I was focused on enjoying the simple things in life.
Ivory and I had been married for eight months now and still no pregnancy. Recently she’d begun seeing a specialist, who I think only frustrated her more. The amount of questions and answers she had to go through were enough to make me want to walk out and say fuck it. But I couldn’t do that. It was important to her so I did my best to be supportive. I’m not saying it wasn’t important to me too, but after ultrasounds, blood tests, various prescriptions and even injections… I swear it was just making her more uptight.
Ultrasounds showed there was nothing “wrong” with her; blood work revealed that she was perfectly healthy; and the injections she took for egg production just made her extremely horny. Needless to say, we were still banging like crazy. But each month she started her period would basically put her into a three-day shutdown mode.
It sucked seeing her so devastated each month but I didn’t know what else to do. “If there’s nothing medically wrong, she seriously needs to fucking relax,” Missy kept telling me. “I’m serious, Jude. And you need to step up and do your part.”
I honestly didn’t know what she meant until she made a “jerking off” motion complete with sound effects.
So then came my testing. I offered and Ivory was very emotional because of the gesture. I won huge brownie points for sacrificing a few of my little swimmers for science.
And then it was determined that there was nothing wrong with my contribution to the reproduction process and Ivory bawled for two days straight.
Finally I told Blake that Ree and I were taking a week off from The Urchin and I chartered a private flight to Cozumel. I felt we needed some time away, somewhere just the two of us could regroup without being bothered by any concerns from the outside world. We had an amazing time and I could see a huge change in her countenance. I’m not saying Ivory was always distressed and unhappy before. No, not at all. She still made me laugh constantly, and we really did have the best relationship. It was just those few days every month that knocked her down for a bit, but she would always pull herself back up.
While on vacation, we even discussed adoption. Obviously Ree was a big advocate for it since she herself had been adopted, and when she asked me what I thought of
the idea, I knew she was serious. I made a phone call to look into it, which definitely turned it into a real possibility.
But for the time being, we did our best to take Missy’s advice and enjoy life how it was being given to us. She’d even threatened to have her kids stay with us for a while so we’d feel glad that we didn’t have kids, but Ivory and I were both up for the challenge—hence why we had Jason and Delilah for the weekend.
“Who’s that?” I heard Delilah ask from the living room.
I glanced up from the request of macaroni and cheese I’d been making. She was pointing to the wall where a picture of my little girl hung above the piano.
“That’s Annalise, Jude’s daughter,” Ivory answered.
“The one that died?” Delilah asked innocently. “That’s a pretty picture of her.”
I guess it was a new picture for her to see since that particular one had only been hanging in the apartment for a couple of months. Ree had found it on a photo CD and surprised me by placing it in a beautiful frame to hang on the wall. Gone was the photo by the door of Anna with her mom—that was my choice to remove. Guilt was no longer a factor in my life anymore.
“It is a pretty picture of her,” Ivory agreed with a smile. “She looks like a beautiful angel, doesn’t she?”
Even Jason had paused his playing when Ivory had, just to stare at the photo. It kind of brought a reverent mood to the room, one that I could physically feel. I knew that Annalise was looking over us and that always gave me comfort. It still hurt like crazy to miss her like I did, but I was really starting to believe that she was where she was meant to be. God must know best in these situations, and maybe my baby girl had been spared an extremely difficult life somehow. I had faith she was in good hands, happy and carefree without a worry in the world.
That I could live with, and when Ivory mouthed I love you from across the room, I knew I was living the life I was meant to live. The experiences you have will mold you in a way you never thought you could be. I’d been through some refining fires over the past few years, and even though I could barely see the significance at the time, I now knew how much I’d been shaped into a better person. I’ve learned to treasure the amount of love that was in my life because I knew what it was like to lose it. I had my daughter in my heart, always, and I would forever hold on to those that give my life meaning.
This man was definitely on the right path, and I will never take for granted the people that helped me get here.
Epilogue
One year later…
Ladies and Gentlemen, your piano man has arrived!”
Blake’s introduction never got old. It kind of amused me because his daughter had coined the ‘piano man’ part in reference to me, but it was his genuine excitement each and every time he introduced me that put a smile on my face.
This time it wasn’t for a regular show at The Urchin, but for a private family celebration. I still couldn’t resist sitting down at the piano to play some music, though, and the circumstances were well worth the occasion.
“Okay,” I said as I sat down at the baby grand. “Who here is familiar with the story about my dad teaching me how to play the piano?”
The entire room answered with some sort of response, some laughing some groaning. The groans were probably because they thought I was going to play Jaws for them, but they were only half correct.
“Now, now,” I wagged a finger. “Don’t knock it. I have something much better for you all.” I motioned to the four-year-old sitting with Ivory at the front table. “Come here, Nicolai. You’re up, kid.”
Quiet yet confident, my son made his way to the stage. He took my place at the piano as several people made “aww” exclamations in the crowd.
“So we’re going to share this Collins tradition with all of you. This little guy has something he’d like to show you.”
I motioned for Nicolai to begin, but before he did, I heard him barely whisper, “Thank you God for blessing me with this gift.”
My heart grew in my chest from hearing him repeat the very same mantra that I always did before I played. There are no words to describe how deeply touching that was.
Nicolai took in a deep breath of air and let it out. Then he completed his simple task of playing Jaws for a few measures.
Everyone cheered and applauded. I glanced at Ivory and I’m sure my smile matched hers. We’d had Nicolai for six months now, and after the second trip we took to a Russian orphanage—a baby hospital because of his young age—we were able to return with a very shy, very timid three-year-old boy at the time. But within the last few months he’d become less reserved and his English vocabulary had almost quadrupled. Three months ago he would still be hiding behind Ivory’s legs; it was obvious he’d come a very long way.
“Hey, man, you got anything else for us?” I asked him, chuckling because of his quirky smile. He looked so natural sitting there. Adopted or not, he had that Collins gleam in his eye. The kid loved music, and it was no fluke it was how I’d gotten him comfortable with us. I never forced him to learn; he wanted that on his own.
Nicolai played a simple tune on the piano. It was slow and calculated, and he only made two tiny mistakes, but the look of concentration on his face was priceless. And the applause… He ate it up. I looked at Ivory again and I could tell she noticed the same thing. And the little girl she had on her lap was squirming to get down after seeing her brother get to play the piano.
Yep, two-year-old Ella was fascinated with the sounds that came out of those black and white keys—and in whatever her brother was doing—and she wanted in on the action.
“Sissy wants to play too, Nicolai,” I whispered to him.
He smiled and motioned to her with his hand. Without a single rehearsal, it turned out to be the sweetest exploitation of my kids imaginable. She toddled to the stage, gaining all the oohs and aahhs she was due when she held her arms out for me to pick her up.
I fell in love with these two the second we first met them. Ella was crying, snotty, and was sick with diarrhea that day; Nicolai wouldn’t say a single word and never made eye contact with either of us. We knew right away we wanted them both, and Ivory cried the entire flight home when we couldn’t take them right away—which we knew, but it was still hard.
We waited four more months before they were released for international adoption and we could return for them, and even then we were in Russia for almost three weeks for the entire process. Luke came with us, and so did Catherine, our legal rep from the states. It was a long process that began over a year ago with the completion of the dossier to get it all in motion. There were some days we didn’t think it would happen, but we never gave up hope. From the first time we saw their photos, Ivory and I felt they belonged in our home.
Today we were celebrating Ella’s second birthday, and even though she had no clue what was going on, she sure smiled anyway. She didn’t mind who held her as long as she was able to be in the middle of everything. Nicolai had a bit of an attachment disorder when we first got him, but he’d since grown out of that. I think being around our friends and family so much had helped, and I definitely believed that music had mended that gap and brought us closer together.
Music had a way of saving a lot of people in my life.
It was six p.m. when we packed up and headed for home. We had a very strict schedule for our kids and it was nearing bath and bedtime. Normally we’d head straight up to our floor from the parking garage, but I received a text just as we stepped onto the elevator.
I’m downstairs. Please, Jude. We need to talk.
Ivory noticed my distress but didn’t say anything until the kids were in their pajamas and ready for a bedtime story. I showed her my phone and the last six texts that had gone unanswered. All she did was hug me and said, “Do what feels right, baby.”
She sat down in the chair with Nicolai and Ella and began a book for them.
I wasn’t the type of person to deny someone an apology. Howie had been trying t
o get a hold of me, and besides the six text messages he’d left, he’d also left two voicemails. He wanted to apologize to me in person, but other than allowing him that opportunity, I had no other reason speak to him.
I messaged him back and said I was on my way down. He was waiting for me at the security desk, so I motioned him into the private office. It’d been two years since I’d seen him. He hadn’t changed much, but his mood sure felt a lot different than the last time I saw him. He wasn’t pissed off and full of hate this time.
He pulled up a chair to sit, but I remained standing. I wasn’t going to give him much of my time and he realized that, choosing not to sit either.
“I’m sorry, Jude,” he finally said. “This isn’t easy for me, okay? Do you know how long I’ve spent hating myself because of what happened?”
Almost a minute passed before I answered him. It wasn’t for any other reason except I truly didn’t know what to say. It was all in the past for me and I was almost hesitant to have a conversation about it. “So what did happen? Why don’t you explain that to me first.”
He sighed, shaking his head as he stared at the floor for answers. “I didn’t mean for anything to happen—”
“Just tell me what happened,” I cut him off.
He groaned and scrubbed his hands over his face. “That Halloween thing we did—at the Bowl?”
He waited for me to acknowledge it somehow but I didn’t move a muscle. I knew exactly what event he was talking about. It was a charity function in Hollywood for cystic fibrosis. I’d taken Anna home early myself because she was tired and cranky, and truthfully, I’d been worn out too. I’d been more than happy to cut out early. Lily had wanted to stay another couple of hours and said she’d call for another driver.
“She just…she said some stuff, Jude. I felt bad for her, and I knew you guys were having problems…”
“So you…what? Sleep with my wife to make things better?”
