Sitting on an engawa at a charming little tearoom that overlooked the Shibuya Street Crossing in Tokyo, Japan, Myles was trying to teach me again how to use chopsticks. I was as useless with chopsticks as I was a pair of drumsticks.
"I'm not ready to go back tomorrow." Myles stole a piece of halibut off my plate.
"Me either, but jetlag has gotten the best of me."
We had scuba dived in the Great Barrier Reef, and Myles had me recreate the recently taken photograph of Princess Di at the Taj Mahal. We watched the sunset over the Fiordland National Park and spent our first month anniversary eating at the top of the Eiffel Tower.
Myles wanted to share the places that had captured his heart as he toured with Manuscript without me. Before heading back to America, we needed the time together. The press had already started with the half-baked intrusions. According to them, I was already pregnant. Myles was gay and married me to hide his secret. That I was gay, and Myles liked to watch.
"Emma O’Conner, I love you. I have loved you since you first flashed me a tit and will love you until I take my last breath. You are it for me, and I hope to prove it to you every day, not only with words but also with actions."
I soaked in his words. Stunned at the idea of such a talented man —one who was worshiped and lusted after by millions worldwide was, in fact, mine.
Myles tilted his head to one side. "Do you ever think about having a baby? I mean with me."
I frowned and could feel the wrinkles forming on my forehead. "Who else would I have a baby with, but no, the last thing I want is to worry about someone else's future. I love you, though."
"That love is going to kill me." Myles laughed. I tried imagining my life without him in it. My heart pulsated in my chest cavity, a desperate, intoxicating rhythm of dread. Life without my Myles was pointless.
Chapter 23
T he harsh ring of a newfangled cellphone woke me from a fitful sleep. I had only recently gotten my first cellphone, and the idea was still novel to me.
"Hey, babe," Myles said on the other end. He had made a quick trip to LA for some press calls about the band’s release of their sixth album.
I hadn't been feeling all that great and decided to stay back. "Hey, Rockstar, enjoying sunny LA?" About the time the words left my lips, a bolt of lightning lit up the room, followed immediately by a clap of thunder. I bounced up in bed. "Wish I would've come with you. I need some sunshine about now."
Myles laughed. "I would charter you a jet, but I think I'll be home before you had time to land."
The tip of my tongue darted out to wet my lips. "You could wait, and we can fly back together. Maybe, earn a few more notches in the mile-high club."
"Damn, baby, you're making me hard. I love you."
I heard someone holler, "Lobby in ten."
Then Myles muffled the phone. "I'll be there." He must have removed his hand from the handset because his voice became clearer. "I love you and will be home tomorrow night."
My Myles didn't sound like himself. He was off.
"Everything okay? You sound tired."
He let out a sigh. "Yeah, I'm good, just would rather be home with you. I have ten freaking interviews today. I'd rather hear you talk, but I have got to go."
"Love you," I managed to say before the call went silent.
It had been storming for three solid days, but I was tired of sitting around and wondering what my reality was. I needed something that would have every groupie Manuscript had, hating me even more. But I had to know the truth finally. Ignoring the fact that my period was five weeks late wasn't getting easier. So, scared of running into somebody who would connect the dots and call some celebrity rag, I drove two towns over to a small pharmacy to purchase a pregnancy test.
I placed the pregnancy test kit on the counter and looked down at my muddy tennis shoes, afraid she would recognize me from some magazine that had blasted my picture across its cover. I was the newest fascination in the rock-n'-roll world—the girl who had staked a claim into the biggest playboy in town.
"Twelve dollars and fifteen cents," the lady on the other side of the counter said.
I internally laugh to myself. The price to buy a test that would shape my future cost the ages Myles and I were when we first met.
"You look familiar. Did you go to school in town? You might know my daughter, Mary Elizabeth Ledbetter? You two are about the same age."
I heard more concern in her voice than nosiness, but I didn't want it getting back to Myles before I had a chance of telling him myself.
"I'm new to town. I just needed to grab this before I picked up my daughter from pre-school." I had gotten good at lying, the one thing that bothered me most about being in the limelight. I handed her a twenty and snatched the small bag she'd placed in front of me. It held the answer I needed, and that alone terrified me.
"Seven dollars and eighty-five cents is your change," she said as I took the money and looked into a pair of sympathetic green eyes. She was a stranger. I brief visitor in my life, but it helped me cope with having someone else in on my little secret.
"Wish me luck," I whispered, not knowing if negative or positive would be considered luck.
"Babies are a blessing," the lady said in a warm, motherly tone. "No matter if we planned for them or not.”
"Are you sure?" I replied as pain cracked open my chest.
Outside God had given me the first break in days. The rain had stopped and in its place was a double rainbow.
I couldn't wait any longer, not knowing, and pulled into a hamburger joint. That was what my life had become, peeing on a stick in the dingy bathroom of a grease pit. Damn that second hand on my watch, the ticking alone drove me berserk as I waited to see if it was two lines or one.
The lines go from faded to darker and darker. A wail boiled deep from within my gut, and I gripped the test as I slid down the wall until I plopped down on the concrete floor that was covered in urine and grime, and cried out of fear and confusion. I was having—a baby—Myles’s baby. Baby O’Conner. I was scared.
Myles ended up staying an extra week in Los Angeles doing odds and ends for the record label. He barely made it back to perform their opening show in Memphis. They were kicking off their sixth tour, accurately name Torture. Myles had arranged a jet and limo to take me to the concert. He still didn't know my little secret, and I wasn't ready to tell him, so I took my seat, avoiding the backstage, knowing it wasn't the time or place to destroy his life with the news.
The crowd was jumping and ready to party. As the stage lights started to flash around the room, cheers erupted. Wade started with a brilliant guitar riff. The applause grew louder if that was even possible.
Sawyer addressed the mob. "Are you ready?!" Then he scanned the crowd, and when he spotted me, he winked.
What a way to kick off the night? And for the next three hours, they played hard. As Granny always told us, work hard, play hard. The band had combined work and play together and turned it into a masterpiece. They played and worked with everything they had.
I didn't want the night to end and sunk down into a nearby chair as Sawyer gave his standard goodbye spill. Wade played the I–V–vi–IV chord progression before shifting the guitar over his head with the ease and grace of a model walking the catwalk.
My hand absentmindedly stroked over my hard stomach. It was now or nothing. I had no choice but to tell Myles about screwing up his life by getting pregnant.
After three encores, the band members took a bow before exiting the stage. Myles pointed a drumstick toward me and mouthed, "I love you." As Myles turned to leave, he pocketed his drumsticks, then tripped over some loose cables and slammed down on his knee so hard I heard the breath rush out of him.
My heart couldn't stop pounding as his face distorted in horrendous anguish. He didn't move. Two paramedics rushed the stage as everyone stood staring in disbelief. I felt like someone had cut through my gut as I took off running to meet Myles backstage. I couldn't get to him an
y faster. They already had him placed on a gurney. The minute I reached him, he held his hand out to me. I gripped him as he bared down.
The tears pooling in his eyes signaled the distress he was in." Babe, I can't take it. Don't leave me."
"I'm right here. I will find someone to take me to the hospital."
I found myself sitting on a hard, metal folding-chair and pulled my knees up onto my chest, trying to make myself invisible, then sighed. However, it came out more like a sob and echoed throughout the crowded room. Sawyer came over and sat in the chair beside me. He pulled me closer to him, and I placed my head against his chest.
"He's going to be okay," Sawyer said, then kiss the top of my head. "The media has already been made aware of the situation, so stay close. They are like vultures circling their prey." Sawyer forcibly shook his head. "Be careful."
I glanced down at the disintegrated Kleenex I had been twisting around and around my fingers. Chaos erupted in the corner. They laughed as the man who controlled my heart was in surgery. An ache buried itself in my gut. I threw the tissue in a nearby trashcan and turned to leave. Sawyer grabbed my hand.
"Is there an Emma O’Conner here?" A nurse—doctor—orderly—a man in green scrubs with a face mask hanging from his left ear asked as he walked into the waiting room.
"She's right here," Sawyer announced over my shoulder.
I slightly raised a hand as my arms continued to grasp my core as if I thought I could hold myself together.
"The patient is requesting to see you first," he said and waved his hand. "Follow me, and I will take you to the OR."
I dragged my feet but followed him. Once again, I was transferred back when I was running to my neighbors after my mother had OD’d.
The nurse pushed open the recovery room doors and led me to a small area that faced the nurse's station.
I hesitated before opening the curtain the nurse pointed to. Fluorescent light filled the room like a bright spotlight showcasing a rock star. It was unmerciful. Myles shook his head, struggling to open his eyes, but despite his intention, they refuse to open.
"E," he said above the numerous machines and the beeping caused by his own heartbeat. Grief smashed against my chest, plunging me into a whirlwind of bedlam.
I gave a tight smile, then looked away.
"I love you." he breathed shallowly as I stroked over the deep bruise of pain in my heart—I felt every one of the years we'd been together like a knife plunging into my chest.
"Can I hold you?" Myles asked as a single tear meandered down his cheek. I don't remember moving or even thinking until I was in bed, wrapped in his arms.
I shifted on my side, trying to avoid the newly placed pins in his knees. He had shattered the same knee that led to his previous drug use. It caused me to want to puke. I fiddled with the cotton material of his hospital gown. He stroked a hand over my jaw and forced me to look at him. His gaze clutched mine even as his dark head lowered, his stare so hot it energized me. He wasn't just a rock god who turned girl's insides into jelly with multiple instruments. He was beautiful. He had the looks without music to steal any heart.
My hand slipped and made contact with my already hard stomach.
"Have you ever thought about kids?" I felt his heart pound against my cheek, and it comforted me. I raised up to kiss him very gently on the corner of his lip.
"I would only ever think about having a kid with you, and well, the idea of kids repulses you." His eyes fluttered closed and then opened before locking with mine.
"Repulse is a strong word to describe it."
"Well, I'm repulsed by the idea of bringing a kid into my world. What brings up this conversation?" His teeth dug into his bottom lip.
"Just thinking." My heart felt as if it were about to pound out of my chest and crash into Myles. I stroked over my stomach.
"Don't you think a kid raised in our lifestyle is crazy?"
I simply nodded because I agreed as my eyes filled with unshed tears.
"Truth is, I'm petrified about being a dad. I don't even know what a good dad looks like. Who gives a damn? Life is full of uncertainties, but if you have one thing, you know is real. You fight to hold on to that. The one thing I'm sure of is that you are the love of my life."
Myles spent three weeks in a physical rehab center until he had enough use of his knee to return to their already sold-out tour. I was aware the doctor had prescribed him pain killers, but Myles promised me that they were harmless, and the doctor knew he was a recovering addict.
Chapter 24
M yles had been discharged for over two weeks, and I still hadn't had the nerve to tell him I was pregnant.
He had left for a soundcheck, leaving me alone to think over the last few weeks. I knew, without a doubt, he deserved the truth. How was I to tell him the life we had planned together was forever changed?
In the shower, I closed my eyes and stood facing the stream of water, letting it wash down over me. The spray lifted the tension in my strained muscles. Thanks to those pregnancy hormones, I had turned into a leaking fountain of tears.
The shower door clicked open. Spooked, I flinched. Myles stood naked in front of me. He limped into the small shower before stroking over the mascara that coated my face. "What's wrong, babe?" Gently, he pulled me into his arms, and I willingly went.
I close my eyes and let the words slip from my lips, "We're pregnant."
He stroked my cheekbone with the back of his fingers, letting the words register. "We're pregnant?" he repeated.
I nodded with tears spilling down my face. My hands were tightly fisted at his sides as each of my breaths hurt. He stood there frozen while the water ran over us for too long. Finally, he pulled back enough to look down at me and repeated louder, "We're pregnant." A wide smile appeared on his face. He slid the washcloth out of my tight grip and picked up my favorite bottle of body wash. Then he began washing my shoulders, working his way down my body until he reached my still flat stomach. The way he made small even circles with the washcloth was almost reverent. When he had thoroughly cleaned my entire body, he snatched up the shampoo that he often complimented on its sweet smell of strawberries. I closed my eyes as his hands massaged my scalp. Myles softly ran my hair under the clean water, then turned off the faucet.
"You don't find it repulsive?" I asked as he wrapped my body with a fresh towel.
Myles shook his head. "I've never been happier. My baby is having my baby." He smiled his lazy, lopsided boy-I-fell-in-love-with smile. I gasped then wrapped my arms around his neck to breathe him in.
He led me to the bed and kissed the tip of my nose. He held back the covers, and before my head hit the pillow, I was practically asleep from the stress and tenderness of the day.
The next day, Myles had my pregnancy confirmed by the top-rated OB-GYN doctor within a fifty-mile radius. That was how I found myself laying on a table with my feet firmly placed in a pair of stirrups with Myles squeezing my hand.
"Smile, this is a good thing," the ultrasound tech said. "To get the most accurate data, I will need to do a transvaginal ultrasound. Other than this cold gel," she said as she slid on a condom then squirted a blob of goop on a long metal wand. "And a little pressure, it will not hurt a bit."
"You're going to put that inside her?" Myles asked as he sat in a chair next to the bed and kissed over my knuckles.
The ultrasound tech laughed. "Yeah, that's how it works."
I felt like the most horrible person in the world. Myles was excited over a baby I had prayed I would never have. I watched the small screen in amazement as black and white lines formed. A tiny little peanut-shaped baby came into focus. I reached up to run my finger across the screen as the room filled with the most beautiful sound, the fast and loud thumping of my baby's heartbeat.
"Strong little thing, look, it's already sucking its thumb." The tech pointed out its hand squashed to its tiny face. "You're dating at fifteen weeks already. You are due on August tenth. It looks like your concepti
on date was November seventeenth.”
I stared transfixed at the little miracle of mine floating across the screen. I couldn't swallow past the lump in my throat. The tears rolled, and I didn't even try to stop them.
"I can tell you what it is."
"You can?" I ran my hand across my stomach and felt like my own heartbeat had stopped as the new life I found myself in was going from the abstract to reality.
"It's early, but the little miracle is not very shy." The tech had a comforting smile on her face that made me feel instantly at peace.
"Can you write it down somewhere and seal it in an envelope?" I turned to take in Myles as a tear curved down the side of his face, landing in his ginormous smile. "Is that okay?"
"Whatever you want, momma," Myles replied.
I wasn't ready to accept our new reality, even as it flashed across the screen.
"No, problem. Turn your head. I'll print out a picture giving you a clear shot," the tech said as she pulled the wand from inside me.
I turned my head and sealed my eyes shut. "Sweet one, are you a girl or a boy?"
"He's a drummer," Myles said and winked.
I immediately missed the sound of my baby's beating heart. The nurse pulled my gown down and grabbed my hand to help me sit up. The tech handed me a printout of four pictures of our little bundle and an envelope with a big question mark on the outside.
"You might bleed a little tonight after this procedure, but other than that, if you have any problems, call the hotline."
I nodded, still stunned as I looked at my miracle on the black and white print outs.
"Get dressed, and he's a lucky little dude."
“He?” Myles asked as his eyes grew bigger.
The tech raised one eyebrow. “Did I say he?”
We agreed to keep the news to ourselves, or at least until we digested the idea of an expanded family. Myles did point out we needed a home base now that we had a little O’Conner bun in my oven. Moving from one hotel to another would no longer work.
Her First, His Last Page 15
