“I can’t believe Blue is on TV, Mom,” Lyric says, her eyes bright with excitement. Mickey is sitting between us on the couch, hoping we drop some of our popcorn. I may have accidentally dropped a few pieces already just to see his cute face munch on treats.
We’ve tried to keep Blue’s band, his fame, and everything that comes with it out of Lyric’s life so she can just be a normal young girl and not the daughter of rocker Evan Von Bleu. Blue and I decided since he’s leaving the band, and because he promised the song they’d be playing would be a clean acoustic love ballad with no swearing, that we’d let Lyric watch him play live on television tonight.
And now she’s absolutely entranced watching him sing and play his guitar. I’m surprised to see him playing his old beat-up guitar tonight, and a flash of pain hits my chest when I see he’s got Acorn’s worn black collar wrapped around his wrist. He sings with deep, haunting emotion, his voice raw and raspy like razors are slicing out the words.
If I could stay, I think I would
If I could’ve saved you, I think I would
If I could bring you with me, God knows I would
But I’m on this road alone, doing nothing that I should.
“Why is Blue so sad, Mom?” Lyric asks.
“He’s not sad, sweetie. It’s just the song.”
She shakes her head, not taking her eyes off her father on the screen.
“No. He’s sad. I can see it.”
I wish I didn’t love you
I wish you didn’t love me, too
I wish I could change the things I do
I wish none of this was true.
Toward the end of the song he looks into the camera and his lips curve into a quick sexy smile before he turns away.
My heart swells. That smile was for me
“I didn’t know he could sing like that,” Lyric comments, with that same faraway expression Blue gets.
“Yeah. Your dad’s pretty amazing.”
She nods and tilts her head to the side as she watches him on the television screen.
“He really is,” she agrees. “I wish he looked happier. When he plays for me here, he always looks happy.”
I smile and pet Mickey. “He’s happy. A lot of musicians have stage personalities where they look, dress, and act different than they do in their normal life.”
“Kind of like acting?”
“Yes, exactly like acting.”
She ponders that for a moment while Blue rises from his stool on stage and bows in thanks to the audience as they stand and clap. Even with his air of melancholy, he’s magnetic and charismatic on stage.
“Someday if I play the harp for lots of people like Blue does, should I be different, too?”
“That’s up to you. You’ll have to see how you feel. It might be easier for you to play in front of people if you pretend to be a little different. Or you might just want to totally be yourself.”
“I think I just want to be myself. It seems a lot easier.”
I smile, knowing that would be my little girl’s answer. She’s always been authentic and true to herself and I love that about her.
“If Blue calls tonight, can I talk to him? I want to tell him how much I loved his voice and his song. And I want to make sure he’s not sad.”
If he does call, it will probably be after midnight, but she’s so proud of him and excited to have seen him play live that I can’t say no to her.
“I’m not sure if he’s going to call since it’s late, but tomorrow’s Saturday so if you want to sit in bed and read or watch television for a while in case he calls really late, then you can.”
She jumps off the couch to kiss me goodnight, then races to her room. She and Blue have an adorable bond and I hope it keeps getting stronger as she gets older. I know the teen years can be hard but I’m keeping my fingers crossed that she doesn’t go through a rebellious or ‘I hate my parents’ phase.
While I wait up hoping Blue calls, I sit in bed reading a wedding magazine with four others piled next to me. These magazines are a rabbit hole of magical dreams. Pages upon pages of gorgeous flowing dresses, colorful bouquets, hair and makeup to die for. And cakes. Oh wow, the multi-tiered cakes that have intricate lace icing and candy pearls. I want everything. Blue said I could have anything and everything for our wedding. Honestly, I just want me and him and Lyric, in cool clothes, on a beach or in Vegas or in a gazebo in a park. That’s all I need to be happy. This other stuff is fun to look at, but I don’t need all this extravagance.
I’m starting to nod off and dropping the magazine every five minutes when he calls.
“Hi, handsome,” I say into the phone. “You were incredible tonight. Was that a new song?”
“Yeah. It’s the first time we’ve played it live.”
“I loved it. And Lyric was just in awe watching you play on TV. She was glued to the screen.”
“She really liked it?”
“Hon, I wish you could’ve seen her face. She really wanted to talk to you but I checked on her a few minutes ago and she’s asleep. It’s three a.m. here, so she’s exhausted.”
“Shit. I couldn’t get away from everyone. I can never get away from everyone, Piper.” Exhaustion weaves through his voice like a vine.
“Don’t worry, she understands. It’s okay.”
“It’s not. I want to talk to her again.”
“You can try tomorrow. We’ll be here.”
He’s silent on the other end of the line.
A few more seconds tick by.
And then a few more.
“Blue?”
Nothing.
Did he fall asleep?
“Are you there?”
“Hm?”
A familiar faint clink of metal vaults memories of Acorn to the forefront of my mind and heart. It’s almost as if he’s right here in the room, resting his head on my leg. But he’s not. It’s his name and rabies tags jingling together on his collar that must still be wound around Blue’s wrist.
I swallow down the immense sadness that came with the unexpected memories.
“Are you all right? You just kinda stopped talking.”
“I’m just tired.”
“Is your head hurting again?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you at Koler’s house now?”
“Yeah. I’m in my room.”
“You should try to get some sleep. Did you eat?” I’m turning into a level-ten mom but I don’t care. I worry about him when he gets like this and I wish I could morph myself through the phone line and take care of him.
“I’m not hungry. I miss you.”
“I miss you, too. Especially after seeing you on TV. You looked exceptionally hot tonight,” I tease in a flirty voice, hoping to make him smile.
“Did you see me smile at you?”
“I did. Thank you for that. It made me all woozy inside.”
“I’m gonna go lie down. Love you, Ladybug. So much.”
His words seep right into my soul. Every time he tells me he loves me it feels like the first time. My heart still races, my insides still tingle with butterflies, he still takes my breath away.
“I love you, too.”
