Rockstar Daddy

Book 2

Chapter Four

Jason

Sitting in the taxi back from the airport, I felt a sense of déjà vu. The last time I had been down here, it had been Thanksgiving- just before the album dropped, right when we were teetering on the edge of being a real, legitimately famous rock band. It was so weird, coming back- Christ, I hadn't even been to my parents' new house yet, even though I bought it for them.

I noticed the taxi driver glancing at me in the mirror, and managed a tired grin. I knew what he was thinking.

"Sorry, but what is it you said you do?" He asked, his eyes flicking between my reflection and the road.

"I'm a musician," I explained, hating how pretentious the words sounded rolling off my tongue.

"Did you play over in Hagersfield ever?" He continued. "Just because I took my daughter to a show there once, and I could swear…"

"Yeah, we played there," I nodded. Christ, that had been a while ago- back when we were still taking supporting slots.

"I imagine you're on to bigger and better things now!" The taxi driver replied encouragingly. I grinned- he had no idea.

We pulled up outside my parents' house a few minutes later, and my eyebrows shot up under my hair. Sure, I'd seen it in photographs, but I had never really taken the time to appreciate just how f*****g massive this place was. I'd bought it as soon as the money from the album had cleared- I'd always teased them that I was going to buy them the biggest house in town as soon as I made it big, and I had. For me, it was like confirmation of my success, and every time I Skyped them and they showed me proudly round the gigantic rooms, I was reminded of how far I'd come, of how far we'd all come. Chelsea had made it to college, found a decent job, and was now getting married; Mom and Dad were finally living in a nice house in a decent part of town. It was almost as if the first ten years of my life- the struggles, the scraping, the suffering- hadn't happened at all.

I handed the driver a handful of notes, and grabbed my bags from the back seat of the car. Taking long strides up the driveway, I looked up at the house- it was an anomaly in this small town, built like a townhouse in the middles of some city somewhere. My parents had moved in maybe three months ago, and as far as I knew my mother was still putting the finishing touches all over the place. Before I had even got all the way up the path, the front door was flung open, and my mother came bustling out.

"Jason!" She reached up to give me a hug, and pressed a kiss on my cheek. She'd smelled familiar, of cheap rose perfume and ink. I felt myself relax into her arms. "Come in, we've got so much work to do, I'm sure I can put you to use."

I followed her into the house, and found myself surrounded by at least twenty people I had never seen before. Looking around, I tried to spot even one familiar face, and eventually found my father amongst the crowd.

"Dad," I weaved my way towards him through the crowd, trying to avoid getting in anyone's way.

"There's my rock star!" He exclaimed, taking his glasses off and stepping back from the stack of papers in front of him. I strode towards him through a gap in the crowd, and gave him a tight hug. I missed my Dad most when I was on the road; he was always the one to listen intently to our new songs and give us feedback and tell me how great we all were back when no-one else could give a s**t. As I strolled through the crowd, I could feel all eyes momentarily turn on to me- even in the midst of all this panic, the knowledge that someone from our small town had hit it big was still worth noting. It was kind of funny, really, knowing that I was actually of interest to all these people, people who wouldn't have looked at me twice four years ago when I lived here.

"Hey, Dad, what's going on in here?" I asked, gesturing to all the people around us.

"Your sister's getting married here in five days is what's happening," he shot back, and his voice was suddenly brittle with stress. "There's a lot to bring together in that time, I can tell you."

"What, didn't she plan anything before now?"

"Well, not enough," he rolled his eyes. "You know Chelsea, she's been so taken with the idea of being married that she's barely put any thought into the actual wedding."

"Hey, you know I'm right here, don't you?" Chelsea's voice came over my shoulder.

"Hey, sister," I turned around, and reached out my arms for a hug. She obliged, pressing herself against my chest briefly before she turned back to whatever it was she was doing.

"I knew I shouldn't have gone out for lunch today," she shook her head, and I followed her, trying to find someone to hang on to as one of the people I didn't recognise any, grabbed Dad and dragged him somewhere else.

"Oh, who were you out with?" I asked, fiddling with a pile of envelopes on the table. She slapped my hand away quickly.

"Robert and Carla," she replied nonchalantly, and I felt my heart drop to the floor.

"Carla?"

"Yeah, it's the first time I've seen her in years," she continued, distracted. It was the first time someone had mentioned Carla since I'd returned, and I had to play it cool- didn't want anyone thinking she was the reason I had come back, even though it wasn't exactly untrue.

"How is she?" I asked, squinting at a to-do list that Chelsea was hurriedly ticking things off of.

"You know Carla, she keeps herself to herself," Chelsea frowned. "She asked us a lot of questions about us and didn't really answer anything we asked her."

"But she's doing okay?" I prompted, determined to get something I could use in case I did bump in to her.

"Um, yeah, I guess so," Chelsea wrinkled her nose. "Why does it matter so much to you?"

"No reason, no reason," I mumbled, looking away. I had figured this would be a good time to come back- to try and work out why Carla had broken things off with me all those years ago when it looked like things were going so well. But Chelsea didn't look like she had anything on her.

"Do you know where she's staying?" I asked, trying to keep my tone casual and failing dismally.

"No idea," Chelsea gave me a look over the top of her paper. "Now, stop trying to stalk my high school friends and help."

"Yeah, yeah," I shot back, as she thrust the to-do list into my hands. It was a small town, and if we were both here, we'd find each other eventually. I would be sure of that.

Chapter Five

Carla

Leaning my elbows up on the counter, I let out a dramatic sigh. I had been feeling sorry for myself ever since I'd left that lunch with Chelsea and Robert- sure, their's wasn’t the life that I necessarily wanted to be living, but it was exciting and full and all kinds of other things compared to mine. I was back at the café, covering a late-afternoon shift, and praying that Chelsea or her fiancé wouldn't wander in unannounced. I'd been working this job since high school, and I couldn't imagine how embarrassed I'd be for them to see that.

The door chimed, and I lifted my head to greet whoever it was. When I looked up, my heart plummeted to my shoes and I felt my palms begin to sweat-Jason. What the hell was he doing in here?

"Carla?" He asked, taking a few steps towards the counter. He looked as good as ever- his skinny frame had rounded out into something more muscular, and he had trimmed back his permanently overlong hair into a cool hipster style. I looked at the floor, part of me wondering if I could just pretend not to know him, before I replied.

"Yeah?" There was a lot more doubt in my voice than I would have liked, but I lifted my chin and met his gaze.

"Sorry, I hope I'm not disturbing you. I was back in town so I asked around a little and someone told me you were still working here, I thought I'd stop by and say hey." He explained, a warm grin spreading across his face.

"Um…" I looked around. There was literally no-one else here- it was the quiet before the evening rush, and for a moment I cursed my luck. There was no-one I could distract myself with. "Yeah, it's been a while."

"I thought you were off to college to do that whole art thing?" He prompted, sliding himself down on one of the stools. He was only a few feet away from me now, and I felt my heart leap up in my chest. It was beyond weird, seeing him on the TV, and then having him sit right here in front of me.

"Yeah, um, that didn't work out," I shrugged, wondering if he knew about Tara. "I missed home too much so I came back."

"Cool," he nodded, fiddling with the coffee pot in front of him.

"I saw you on the TV though- looks like your whole music thing worked out," I prompted him, hoping to move on to something less personal.

"Yeah, I guess we got lucky," he shrugged with a smile. "So, are you going to the wedding?"

I pulled a face.

"I don't know. I need to get-um, I need to get someone to cover my shift, so I don't know," I quickly corrected myself before I blurted out my news about Tara.

"Shame. I could really use a date," he replied nonchalantly, and I practically fell over. Was he seriously flirting with me right now? I was immediately seventeen again, and the two of us were sitting holed up in my bedroom the month before graduation, him strumming his guitar and me daubing at my latest painting. That chemistry was back- the longing, the unconsummated lust. I clenched and unclenched my fists- did he still feel it too? Or was I just another in a long line of conquests for him?

"Yeah, well, we'll see," I shot back curtly, and he raised his eyebrows at me.

"Sorry, I didn't-"

"It's fine, I just don't want to get your hopes up in case I don't make it," I cut him off again. There was a part of me that wanted to reach across the counter and take his hand- to see what that felt like, to see if it felt the same after all these years. But I knew I couldn't go down that road again, not with someone like Jason, not at the stage of my life I was at.

"Well, I really hope I see you there," he shrugged, standing up. "Hey, when do you finish your shift? I'd love to get a drink, catch up, you know."

"I'm busy tonight," I replied, "But I could use the lift."

He raised his eyebrows at me, a small smile playing at the corner of my mouth.

"As brazen as ever, I see."

"Well, if you're offering."

There was a moment of silence between us, and I looked up at him. There was that flutter in my chest again- the suggestion of something more, the reminder of what we almost had back in high school. Then I broke his gaze, and began bustling around behind the counter. I didn't have time for this.

"I'll catch you after your shift, then?" He lingered for a moment, as if he was expecting more.

"Sure, I'll be done in an hour or so," I nodded towards the clock.

"Till then."

I watched him as he left, my mind flashing back to that last month we'd had together before graduation. That's when we'd really bonded, when we'd actually become friends. Well, maybe something more than that. He was so sweet, so charming, so guileless back then- but I guess fame could do that to a person. He still seemed like the same boy I'd fallen for all those years ago, but I'd read those news stories- I wasn't letting someone like that near me or my daughter. But I suppose a little catch-up wouldn't hurt…?

Chapter Six

Jason

I didn't really know what to do with myself while I was waiting for Carla to finish her shift- I felt this kind of excitable, almost kinetic energy bursting through my system as I paced the familiar streets, deflecting excited glances and lingering stares from the people who recognised me but couldn't remember where from. I was excited, sure, but there was part of me that knew I was torturing myself. She was the one who broke it off all those years ago, so who was to say she was interested at all? Maybe I was sniffing up the wrong alley. Either way, I wasn't going to pass up this opportunity now that it had arisen- the chance to get her on her own, to try and figure out if there was anything left between us or if I was pursuing an empty fantasy from four years ago.

I was trying to look nonchalant, leaning on my truck, when Carla came out of work, but I knew I couldn't keep the excitement off my face. I hurried towards her, awkwardly wondering if I should offer to take her bags or something.

"Dude, it's okay," she rolled her eyes at me teasingly, and I gestured towards my truck.

"So, where is it you're staying?"

"I'll direct you as we go, it's a little bit out of town," she replied, hopping in to the seat next to mine and tugging her coat around herself demurely. God, she still looked so good- I remembered her as an almost-eighteen year old, but she was a fully-fledged woman now, and that was way hotter.

"So, how long have you been back here?" I asked, pulling the truck on to the street.

"Oh, a few years," she replied vaguely. "Take a left here."

"So how long did you last at college? What kind of art did you specialise in?" I prompted. I got the feeling that she was nervous around me, maybe because of my reputation- it had happened with a few people, with them getting standoffish after I got semi-famous. I hoped I hadn't blown my chances with her with my success.

"Um, painting, and not long," she admitted, looking out the window as if she was embarrassed to make eye contact with me.

"So, are you living by yourself?" I didn't want her to know necessarily that I knew about her daughter- that was the kind of thing you waited for them to bring up on their own.

"No, not alone," she corrected me, glancing out the window and smiling to herself. I couldn't help but smile too- it was clear that her kid made her happy, even if she wasn't comfortable talking with me about it yet. "Another left, and then right down Springwood Lane."

My truck was too big for these small streets now, and I had to take my time manoeuvring it.

"Do you keep up with your art now? Anything for sale?" I knew it was coming across as an interrogation, but I felt as if I had four years to catch up on and only a short car ride to do it in.

"No, not really," she brushed me off again, and I looked at her in the mirror. Her face was etched with strain, and I wondered what she was trying to hide. "This is me."

I pulled to a halt outside an apartment building, and looked up, wondering which one of the windows was Carla's.

"You should come along to the rehearsal, Carla," I suggested gently. "Everyone would love to see you there. Especially me."

She finally looked over at me, and the strain evaporated from her face. She closed her eyes and pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead.

"What is it?" I asked, concerned, unbuckling my seatbelt.

"Jason, I never even went to college. I never left. I've been here ever since. I'm sorry I lied to you but- I don't think I can face everyone there, knowing that I never did anything worthwhile with my career-"

"Carla, no-one would ever think that about you," I tried to reassure her, but she was already shaking her head.

"No, I should- I should go, I'll see you whenever," she threw open the door of the truck and quickly climbed out, hurrying up to her apartment building and fumbling in her pocket for her keys. I stared after her, dumbfounded.

So all of this- she must have had the kid sooner than I thought. If she stayed behind. Which would mean…no, there's no way. I closed my eyes, and shook the thought from my head, pulling away from the street and staring out on to the quiet roads ahead of me.

Chapter Seven

Carla

Sitting in Chelsea's parent's house, I looked around, feeling awestruck. I couldn't believe this was the same family I'd known only a few years ago- I assumed that Jason had bought the house for them, but it was a real step up in the world. I remembered Chelsea's complaints about her parent's lack of money, her promises to herself that she would get a good job and never end up in the same position herself. And now here they were, in the most gorgeous house I'd ever seen.

"Tea?"

Chelsea came bustling in from the kitchen, holding up a pot.

"I'd love some, yeah," I nodded, trying not to make my ogling obvious. "Great place your parents have got here."

"Yeah, it's really nice," she agreed, smiling as she glanced around. "You should see my apartment out in LA, though. I just put down the deposit. Oh, you'd love it, it's just like the places we wanted when we were in high school."

"Maybe I'll come out and visit some time," I said absently, and realized a moment later, with surprise, that I actually meant it. I had come round to catch up with Chelsea while Tara was at daycare- it was the least I owed her- and found we slipped easily back into our old ways, giggling and gossiping. I had caught Chelsea up on all the news she'd missed being out in California, and she'd filled me in on three year's worth of ridiculous college stories, including how she met Robert.

"We'd love that," she grinned, pouring me another cup of steaming tea. "f**k, I can't believe I'm going to be married in a few days time."

"Me neither," I shook my head.

"I thought you'd be the one getting married first," she tilted her head towards me. "You always seemed to get to those milestones before me."

"Well, I beat you to the kid," I reminded her, and we both laughed.

"Guess so," she admitted, and then her face lit up with excitement. "Ooh, have I shown you the design for my wedding dress yet?"

"I don't think so."

I'd been shown so much in the last couple of hours- flower arrangements, music choices, seating charts- that it was hard to remember what I had and hadn't actually laid eyes on.

"Let me run upstairs- I'm dying for you to see it," she stood up and hustled over to the door, scarpering up the steps in a rush. "Oh, hey, you!"

I looked up to see who had come in- and felt my stomach drop when I realized it was Jason. I hadn't seen him since the car journey a couple of days previously, and I was still feeling a little embarrassed about my outburst.

"Hello, Jason," I greeted him grimly as he slid past Chelsea and into the room.

"Hey, Carla," he seemed surprised to see me. "Mind if I join you?"

He grabbed a mug from the tree, and sat opposite me at the breakfast bar, pouring himself some tea and then looking at me intently. I stared back for a moment, but then had to admit defeat.

"What?" I demanded.

"Just thinking about the last time we saw each other." He explained casually.

I cringed internally at the mention of it, and leant forward, speaking quickly.

"Look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to dump all that stuff on you, it's just that I knew you wanted me at the wedding, and-"

"No, not that time. The last time, you know, before I left." His words were simple, but it felt like they were slicing through me. I remembered, too- it had been all I'd been able to think about since I'd seen him again.

"At Chelsea's graduation party?" I looked down at my tea, watching the steam float between us.

"Yeah. When we…"

"I remember."

We both sat in silence for a moment, and I wondered if he remembered it as vividly as I did- that feeling like a bubble had burst, of relief, of his body against mine and inside mine and-

"And then you blew me off. By text, no less." He pointed out, and there was still a hint of pain in his voice, as if the memory hurt him to recall.

I shook my head, trying to push the thought of Tara from my brain. The connection between them was making me feel a little ill.

"Yeah, I know. I was seventeen, I was an i***t, you know I'm sorry."

"I guess I wasn't sure," he replied softly, and I found myself staring at him. Did he seriously think this is how I wanted all of this to turn out?

"It's just, everything with…you know, not going to college, I didn't want to hold you back or anything," I babbled on, feeling stupid for trying to absolve myself for a mistake that was in the distant past.

"You don't have to try and make it up to me," he grinned. "It was a long time ago, I get it. I'm just teasing."

There was another moment of silence between us, and then I spoke.

"It was a good night, though, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, a really good one," he agreed, raising an eyebrow at me.

"Though I imagine you're too inundated with groupies to even remember it now," I teased, finding myself relaxing a little. There was something about his presence that just instantly chilled me out, and I was glad to have him back.

"Trust me, pretty hard to forget something that good," he parried, and I took a little intake of breath. We were flirting-just like we used to back in high school. And it felt good.

"You know, you should really come to this wedding this weekend," he continued, breezing right past what we'd just been talking about. "Everyone would love to see you there."

"I'm thinking about it," I nodded. And I was- seeing Carla again reminded me how much I loved her back when we were in high school, and how much I wanted to send her off to the next part of her life.

"Come as my date," he leaned a little closer across the bar. "To the rehearsal, and the wedding. It'll be fun, I promise."

I paused; is this what I really wanted? Yeah, there was still a heat between us, and we still got on as well as we always did, but was I walking into something dangerous? How close did I want to bring him to all of this? Was I pushing my luck? I took a long, shaky breath, and replied.

"I'd love to."

I wasn't sure what I was going to say until the words were out of my mouth, but as soon as they were, I knew I'd made the right decision. I hadn't been out on a date in almost a year, and when I had, they had been pale imitations of what I'd had with Jason. At the very least, this was a chance to finally get some closure, to put behind me the years of wondering if letting him go was the worst decision of my life.

"Awesome. Can I pick you up for the dinner on Friday around seven?" He took out his phone and handed it to me. "Just stick in your address and phone number, we'll figure something out if that doesn't work."

I did as he asked, tapping in my details and handing it back to him. I felt a little light-headed, as if none of this was really happening.

"I guess I'll see you then?" I continued, my voice sounding a little squeakier than usual.

"I guess you will," he nodded, and stood up. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got some business with my sister."

He left the room, and I found my head dancing straight back to the memories we'd made together. I remembered a night, maybe two weeks before graduation, when we'd driven out as the sun was setting down to the picnic spot his family had frequented when he and Chelsea were kids. We bought chips and beer- a little different from his childhood excursions- and we sat shivering out in the dark, both of us looking down the long roads of our future. We talked about nothing, really, but I remembered that night with such fondness. I wondered what would have happened if he'd stayed, or I'd gone with him- maybe we'd be the ones getting married on his parent's lawn. I rocked back in my chair, and smiled to myself- this week had suddenly come with a whole lot of possibilities.