I’m not hungover, because I didn’t drink that much, but I have that slightly weird floaty feeling you get after a big night out and not much sleep.
I make myself a strong coffee and sit on the couch, enjoying not having anything to do for a couple of hours. I told Mum and Dad I’d collect Daisy at ten, so that’s four hours alone to contemplate the events of last night.
Part of me wishes I had let Lincoln kiss me. I could have just taken it for what it was, a guy who was hurting and needing a bit of love. But I knew we’d both regret it today. I don’t think I could separate my emotions, and I would be left wanting more.
But then I feel like I might have been doing him a favour, performing the rebound role to help him get over Rachel. It was kind of selfish of me to deny him that chance. Plus, at least if he’d chosen me, he wouldn’t have had to worry about some other less suitable woman taking advantage of him.
Except what makes me more suitable than anyone else?
My reverie is interrupted by a knock at the door. I don’t usually get anyone coming over this early.
When I answer, I see a delivery guy standing there, holding a large bunch of colourful gerberas. No one ever buys me flowers! And to have them delivered at 7am on a Saturday morning would not be cheap.
I take the bouquet and sign for them, not opening the card until I’m in the kitchen.
I’m so sorry about last night. Please forgive me.
Lincoln.
My heart feels like it’s going to burst. How did he organise these at such short notice? A sad thought occurs to me, and I wonder if he still wakes up super early, too, as a residual side effect of living with the twins for three years.
What’s more likely is that he continued partying and hadn’t yet gone to bed when he ordered them.
I think about his behaviour last night. Lincoln was drunk and a bit morose, but he was never disrespectful. There was no reason he should feel bad enough to send me apology flowers.
As I don’t have his phone number, I write him a message via Instagram, thanking him for the gift.
He doesn’t reply, so I run myself a bath and enjoy the last bit of quiet I’ll have for a while.
My daughter will be home soon.
***
Daisy and I have a chilled-out day together. I half-nap while she colours pictures of Disney characters in one of her activity books and watches cartoons on TV.
At 6pm, there’s a knock at the door. I assume it’s Millicent since she often drops by on weekend evenings, and I’m thinking she’d want to debrief about last night.
But it’s not her.
It’s Lincoln.
His hair is all tangled like when I met him on the plane. And his scruff is a little wild, but it makes him look sexier than ever.
He gives me a sheepish smile when I open the door.
“Hey.”
“Hey! How are you today?”
He rubs his temples. “A little under the weather, but it was my own fault. I just wanted to check you got my flowers?”
“I did. And I messaged you on Instagram to thank you. I don’t have your mobile.”
“Ah. I’ve been avoiding social media the last few days.”
I belatedly realise I haven’t invited him in. “Do you want to come in? Daisy and I are just hanging out.”
“If that’s okay with you? I’m not interrupting mother-daughter time or anything?”
“Um, no. You do realise my daughter is a bigger fan of your music than I am? And that’s saying something.”
He chuckles. “In that case…”
I usher him in. I’m glad I wasn’t doing anything embarrassing like scrolling through his photos on my laptop. Or playing his music.
Daisy looks up when he enters the living room, and her eyes widen.
“Hi, Daisy,” he says, the way only a guy who has experience with kids would greet a child. “It’s great to see you again.”
“Hi.”
He points to the flowers he sent this morning, which are now in a vase on the hall table. “Did you know these are gerbera daisies? Just like your name?”
She smiles. “Really?”
“Yep. I chose them especially.”
My bones start to liquefy. If only this guy didn’t have so much emotional baggage to process, I’d be putting Daisy to bed right now and throwing myself at him.
“Are you hungry?” I ask. “I can make something.”
“No, no. I mean, I’m hungry, but I don’t want you to cook. How about we order in? What’s your favourite food, Daisy?”
“Pad Thai,” she answers immediately.
“In that case, I think we should get some Thai food delivered.” He pulls out his phone. “Do you have a preferred place around here?”
“Try Phon’s.”
“Do you like curry?”
“I’m easy,” I say, and then blush when he raises an eyebrow and gives me an amused smile.
“Yes, a green curry would be great,” I add hurriedly.
He types into his phone and holds the receiver to his ear. Daisy and I watch, probably with equally smitten expressions as he places the order.
I busy myself by pouring some iced water and carrying it over to the coffee table.
“Can we watch Frozen, Mum?” Daisy asks.
“Oh, I’m not sure Lincoln will want to watch that,” I say.
Lincoln hangs up the phone. “What was that? Did I hear someone say Frozen?”
“Yes! Mum says you wouldn’t want to watch it.”
“Of course I want to watch it! Do you know I can sing all the words to Let It Go?”
I can imagine this situation must be incredibly difficult for him. I’m sure the only reason he knows that song is because of his girls.
“I know all the words, too!” Daisy says, as if it’s the best coincidence in the world.
“Then we’ll have to sing together.”
I press my hands to my chest. I don’t think my heart can take any more of this adorable exchange. I revisit the idea that perhaps I fell asleep weeks ago before my flight to Sydney and never woke up. It’s possible I’m in a coma.
We sit down in front of the TV, and I set up the movie.
Daisy plonks herself on a beanbag on the floor, leaving the couch for Lincoln and me.
I awkwardly rearrange the cushions so we have a couple each to lean on. The armrests are a little worn, and I feel a bit self-conscious about not having a more stylish house to present to him. I know he potentially doesn’t have a lot of money of his own, but I still wish I had some fancy furnishings.
The movie begins, and I try to relax. But who can act naturally while watching Frozen with their daughter and a freaking rockstar sitting next to them?
I try and sit as still as possible, so I don’t accidentally bump him. But then my mouth gets all dry, and I reach down to get a sip of water, and in the process, my arm brushes his. He jumps back in much the same way I did on the plane that time.
I look at him incredulously, and when our eyes meet, I see he’s nervous. Lincoln Page is nervous around me!
The realisation makes me giggle softly.
“What?” he asks, confused.
“Nothing, sorry. I guess I just find this all a bit random, having you here in my living room watching a Disney movie.”
He grins. “I guess that is a little strange.”
“But it’s great,” I hurriedly assure him. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
“Me, too. It’s nice to do something normal.”
I’m almost afraid to ask, for fear of setting him off, but I’m curious.
“Are you still at your place in Ashgrove?”
He nods. “Probably not for much longer, though. I’m thinking I’ll put it on the market and rent somewhere smaller for a while until I figure out my next move. I’m not sure if Rachel will ask for money for the girls, but I want to have some set aside just in case.”
“But she deceived you!” I protest.
“I
know. It might not matter, though. The courts can be funny with that kind of thing. There was a big case where a guy ended up losing a dispute against his ex in the same situation as me, and he had to pay all the expenses, including his ex’s.”
“That’s horrible.”
“I know. In my mind, the girls are still mine, so I’m putting aside my frustration and focusing on what’s best for them. If they need money, I’ll give it to them.”
“You should still fight for visitation rights.”
“Believe me, I’m working on it.”
The food arrives, thankfully lightening the mood a little.
We pause the movie to serve up, and then watch a bit more of Elsa and Anna’s sisterly love.
When Let It Go comes on, Lincoln keeps his promise and sings it word-for-word with Daisy. She’s too shy to join in much, but I can tell it’s made her night. The act seems to take its toll on Lincoln, though, and I can see a wave of emotion cross his face as he sings the chorus.
When it’s over, he abruptly stands. “I have to go.”
“Oh, okay. Of course. I’ll see you out.”
“No, no. I’ll be fine. Thanks for your hospitality. It’s been great.”
He hurries out, leaving me wondering if he’s all right.
I send him a quick message on Instagram, thanking him for coming over, and I give him my phone number for any future communication.
A few minutes later, my phone dings with a text.
Thank you for tonight. You are awesome. The message ends with a daisy emoji.
I re-join Daisy in the living room, saving the number from the text to Lincoln’s name, and beaming a large smile.
Even though the circumstances aren’t ideal, I am so glad the guy is in my life.
EIGHTEEN
Lincoln
I don’t know what made me drive over to Tash’s house and invite myself to stay for dinner, but I’m glad I did. It was the most normal I’d felt in weeks. Tash has such a sweet and understanding nature, I can’t help but be drawn in.
And the more I spend time with her, the more I like her. She manages to make single parenting look easy. And Daisy is the most adorable child outside of my own girls. I really enjoyed both their company.
I had to leave quickly at the end of the movie because I was worried I would say or do something stupid. I have so many weird emotions running through my brain, and no way to process them.
How can I want to kiss Tash when I still love Rachel? Would Tash just be a rebound? I was with Rachel for so long that I don’t know what would normally happen next. What is the right amount of time to take before moving on? If I asked Tash out in the near future, would I be sabotaging a chance for something real between us later?
And then there’s the question of whether Tash even has feelings for me. She turned me down last night, and rightly so, but was it only because I’d been drinking? She’s a successful and confident woman. What would she want with an ex-reality-TV contestant who just had his family abandon him?
I wander around my empty house; the silence illustrating how depressing my life is right now. It feels wrong not to have the girls asleep in their bedroom and Rachel curled up on the couch nearby.
As soon as this tour is over, I’m flying to the UK. I don’t care if I have to spend all my money on travel and hiring a private detective; I would do anything to see the girls again.
I kick off my shoes, get myself a beer out of the fridge, and flop down in front of the TV. I hate sleeping in my bed alone and have been crashing on the couch instead. Late-night infomercials have been keeping me company.
Jeez. My life is pathetic.
***
I have five days before the tour continues, and I am not looking forward to them. Five days to dwell on the absence of my children and the continued feelings of betrayal from Rachel.
While I don’t need the money, I ask my friend Eli if I can do a few extra shifts at his coffee shop. As it turns out, one of his regular employees is sick, so he takes me up on the offer. It’s a little boutique place on Elizabeth Street, and for some reason, no one seems to notice who I am when I’m there. Not that it bothers me if people judge. Just because I was on TV and perform in the entertainment industry doesn’t make me any more special than people who work in hospitality. In fact, hospitality is harder. The pay should be better than what it is.
I spend Monday and Tuesday lost in the mindlessness of making coffee and wiping down tables. And in between, I work on some new tunes. My lyrics aren’t literal, but they definitely help me process some of the emotions I’m going through. Betrayal by Rachel. Despair at not seeing the twins. And hope after spending time with Tash and Daisy.
On Wednesday, I get home from the café and find a cooler bag on my doorstep. Upon opening it, I find a bunch of Japanese meals. I take them inside and read the note stuck to one of the containers.
Thought you might want to try a few of my favourite dishes :)
Tash
P.S. They’re all vegetarian friendly.
I pull out each container, labelled with their contents. The first one is a bento box with teriyaki tofu, tempura vegetables, and a salad doused in sesame dressing. The next is okonomiyaki, which I remember from the day Tash cooked for me. The third is a cold soba noodle salad, and the fourth is some nori rolls. They all look delicious, and I have to stop myself from opening all of them and eating everything right then and there. Instead, I leave out the bento box and put the rest in the fridge.
As I eat the tofu, I find myself comparing Rachel to Tash. Rachel would never have left food on anyone’s doorstep. Somehow, I know this was not the first time Tash has done it.
My shattered heart doesn’t ache so much today. And in fact, a tiny part of it is now reserved for Tash. A warm and happy corner I hope will continue to expand.
I send her a text.
Thank you for the food. I’m already eating the bento box and it is amazing. XOXO
She writes back. I’m glad you like it. I knew you’d probably be busy with rehearsals, so I thought you might not have time to cook properly.
While I’m not too busy to cook, I have been feeling sorry for myself. Making dinner for just one person has not seemed worth it.
Me: I really appreciate it. We’ll have to hang out again sometime soon. I’ll let you know when I’m back from the tour.
Tash: Sounds good. Keep me posted!
I stare at my phone, smiling. I love how natural everything feels with that woman. I’ll have to keep in touch with her while I’m away. The middle of October is too long to wait before I talk to her again.
***
Just before I’m about to collapse onto the couch for the night, my phone rings. Felix.
“Hey! How are you?” I ask. He’s been texting most days to see how I am, but this is the first time he’s called in a while.
“Good. Looking forward to seeing you again when you come to Sydney.”
“Me, too. It’s annoying because this is the first time I can stay at your place without worrying about anything getting damaged, but Max is making me stay at a hotel with the band.”
“How come?”
“I don’t know. Something to do with wanting us to be easily accessible. We have a radio interview before the show, so I’m just doing what I’m told.”
“That’s fine. As long as I’m on your VIP list for tickets?”
“Of course. I’ve reserved a seat for you in the front row.”
“Can I bring a plus one?”
“Sure. Who are you thinking?”
“Tash.”
I’m caught off-guard. “Oh, right. I keep forgetting you two are friends without me.”
He laughs. “You sound jealous, buddy.”
“No, no. Have you already mentioned the idea to her?”
“Nope. I thought I’d leave that up to you.”
If I’m being honest, the idea of inviting Tash to one of my other shows is exciting. But I’m not sure if it’s a good idea. W
hat if she rejects me? What if she thinks the gesture is too over-the-top? Offering someone a ticket to an interstate concert is kind of a big deal.
“But then I’d have to consider the airfare…”
“We’ll split the cost if you’re worried about money.”
“It’s not that. It’s just, don’t you think it will scare her off?”
“Um, you think a hot rockstar offering free flights and concert tickets to someone will scare them?”
“It could.”
“I think the real question is, does it scare you?”
“A little.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I’m fucked up at the moment, Felix! I haven’t heard from Rachel or the girls in months! I can barely stand it.”
“Yet you sent flowers to Tash and spent the evening with her and her daughter.”
“She told you that, huh?”
“We’re practically besties. Of course she told me.”
“Did she also tell you that I tried to kiss her and she turned me down?”
“Ah, yes. Because you were drunk.”
“But that might have just been an excuse.” I don’t want to tell him about the food she dropped by. He would just use that as extra ammunition against me.
“It wasn’t. Believe me.”
“Did she tell you specifically?”
I can hear the smile in Felix’s voice. “She didn’t have to. It was obvious with the way she said it.”
“I don’t know…I don’t want to rush things…”
“All right, well, let me put it this way. How would you feel if Tash was dating someone else?”
“I…” Actually, the idea makes me feel a little weird. And in a very surprising realisation, when I think of Rachel with someone else, I don’t feel nearly as conflicted.
Felix interprets my silence as a victory. “See?”
“Okay. I’m not promising anything, but I’ll think about it.”
“Excellent. Tash would be good for you. You need someone grounded like her.”
“You know what? Maybe I do.”
“I knew you’d come around eventually. Go call her now!”
My Own Personal Rockstar Page 10
