The fear is there: The women. The drinking. The drugs. He’s said drugs were never his thing, but booze definitely was. Habits are hard to break, and they’re even easier to fall back into. I trust him, but not the women. The ring on his finger won’t mean anything to them. He’s Liam Page. I’ve witnessed that craziness first hand.
My steps are slow as I reach the door. He’s stopped playing and I use that as my sign to enter his sanctuary. I don’t come down here often, choosing to let him have the space he needs and was accus
tomed to before he came back to Beaumont. We both have our own places to escape to with the flower shop being mine.
The studio is small, but useful. The guys spend a lot of time down here creating magic. Harrison’s drums sit in the corner, while guitars and keyboards take up the rest of the space. Microphone stands clutter the center of the room. The once cream-colored walls are full of life with music sheets covering every square inch possible.
Liam’s back is to the door and if he’s heard me enter, he doesn’t acknowledge my presence. I know he’s angry. I am too. History does not favor us in this situation. We can either change it, or let something like this drive a wedge between us. Ideally, I’d go with him, however it’s not possible. Noah’s still in school and, with the baby coming, I can’t just up and leave on a whim. My life isn’t as flexible as his. And maybe his shouldn’t be easily adjusted whenever he feels the need, but I married him knowing his career is very important.
My fingers trail over one of his newest tattoos. Noah’s name is inked into his skin between his shoulder blades. It’s bold and beautiful. He relaxes under my touch, hanging his head as I trace each letter, following the design.
“I imagine our new son’s name will go here,” I say, letting my finger glide over his back, right below Noah’s name.
Liam clears his throat. “We need to pick out a name.”
“We have time.”
“Do we?” he asks as he turns on the stool to face me. His hands immediately find a home on my hips as if they’re keeping me grounded.
An overwhelming sense of loss washes over me as I study his other tattoo. A football adorns his shoulder with Mason’s number and stats. I asked him after he got it why his birthdate and the day he left us wasn’t on there and he said because he just needed to remember the way he lived.
“That night…” I start, but hesitate so I can think about my words carefully. We’ve never spoken about the night he broke up with me. The night that ruined my life, albeit temporarily. “Mason…” I can’t bring myself to say it without choking up. It’s too hard to speak about him because he’s missing so much.
Liam pulls me to him, resting his forehead against my chest. I hold him there, moving my fingers in and out of his hair. When he kisses my stomach I want to cry for the child we both desperately want, but are unable to conceive.
“I want to give you a child, Jojo. I’m so sorry I can’t.”
“You already gave me one,” I remind him.
“I wasn’t there, but Mason was.”
When Liam looks up at me, tears overcome me and are matched by his own. Using the pad of his thumbs, he wipes them away as fast as he can, leaving his own to fall onto his bare chest.
“I saw him go to your room. I waited in the parking lot, but you never came out. I told myself if you did, I’d stay or take you with me, but he showed up instead. Why didn’t you come after me?”
“I knew it was over.” The finality of my words, even years later, weighs heavily on my chest. I gasp for air and Liam’s face shows concern as he holds my arms above my head until I can breathe.
“How’d you know when I didn’t even know that myself?”
“You called me Josephine.”
“Are you going to miss my baseball championship?” Noah asks, as I rummage through my side of the closet, pulling out enough clothes to last me a while. With Linda, our full-time housekeeper, staying here I’ll be on my own to wash my clothes. It’s a chore I’m not very good at so I figure if I pack enough to last me, I should be okay.
“Are you going to make it to the championship?”
Noah scoffs, looking at me as if I’ve asked the dumbest question ever. Confidence is one trait he’s gotten from me tenfold. If he tells me he’s going to walk on water, I’ll believe him. He’s determined to succeed at everything.
“Of course we will. Nick says we’re the strongest team in the state and have an excellent chance at making it to Williamsport.”
I want to be a petulant child and roll my eyes at the mention of Nick, but I’ve made promises to my son and wife. I’m playing nice. I’m sharing, even when I don’t want to. I pause and take a good hard look at Noah and conclude that he is light years ahead of where I was at his age in maturity. He has faith in his coach to lead them to the coveted prize of the Little League World Series. And if he does, if Nick comes through with these kids, you can bet your ass I’ll be there.
“When playoffs start, I’ll be home,” I tell him, but he looks skeptical. He shouldn’t look at me like that even though I know I’ve earned it. Here I am trying to build a life with him and Josie, only to leave when she’s going to need me the most. Noah should remember that the second I found out about him, I wanted to be a part of his life. Has it been easy? No, it hasn’t. He and I walk the line on who’s the boss and how much authority I have. It’s hard to be the mean guy when you’re ten years removed from the situation.
Noah picks up his acoustic guitar and strums a few lines. When he asked me to teach him to play, I jumped at the opportunity. I also asked him if he wanted to learn the drums, piano, Karate or take dance lessons. The latter earned me a dirty look. I refuse to be like Sterling and make him only play football. Noah’s a damn good pitcher, as well, and it makes me proud that he’s not specializing in only one sport. That’s what Sterling wanted and achieved with me. I think his proudest moment was when the huge sign was perched in our front yard declaring the house as my residence. I hated the sign, but never said anything because it wasn’t my place. I was just a pawn in Sterling’s life, one that let him down completely.
Since I’ve been back in Beaumont, I have never seen my father. I’m not looking for him either. I’m sure I’ve passed him driving down the street or maybe even leaving the bank. Linda does all our shopping and he wouldn’t dare step inside Josie’s shop. It’s best we never speak. My mom is a different story. She’s been over a few times to see Noah, but it takes her days to build up the courage to actually pull into our driveway. She’s trying to get to know her grandson, even if she can’t look Josie or me in the eyes. My mom also knows that Josie and I are waiting for an apology. It’s not how she treated me growing up, but what she allowed Sterling to do to Josie when she came knocking on the door, pregnant and afraid, that is unforgiveable. She should’ve sought her out and gotten in touch with me, but she cowered in the corner, drinking herself into a stupor instead of doing the right thing. I can easily forgive her for her actions toward me but not Noah.
I shake my head to clear my thoughts about my parents and focus on Noah. He’s tuned me out, getting lost in the simple chords of She’s Like the Wind. He didn’t ask me to teach him this song but when I heard him practicing it, I couldn’t stop myself from asking if he wanted to take up dancing. It was a low blow, I know. It turns out, Josie used to make him dance with her when she watched the movie Dirty Dancing. He was learning the song for his mom and I had made a stupid joke about it. I quickly learned it so I could teach him and now he plays it better than I do.