A Rocker and a Hard Place (13 page)

“I can’t believe you had a kid and just abandoned him. I didn’t think you were that big of a jerk.” Craig’s words slurred slightly and I knew that he was on the verge of being drunk. It was a Tuesday evening after all.

“That was rude.”

“When are you coming back, man? Miranda has been asking about you.”

I had completely forgotten about Miranda. Not that there was much to remember aside from a few foggy hookups. “Not for a while.”

“Does the label know that? Because we’ve got all those promotional gigs coming up this week.”

“Shit.” I had completely forgotten. My new album was being released at the end of the month and I was booked for a bunch of appearances to help boost interest.
Since promotional appearances were part of my contract with the label, I couldn’t exactly bail on them. “I guess I’ll be back sooner then.”

“Call me when you get to town. I’ll let you buy me a drink.”

Less than 24 hours later, I was on a plane to California.

Not only did I have obligations, but I also hoped that the paparazzi would follow me back and leave Emma alone. At least that was what I told her when I snuck over to her house the next day to say goodbye.
Even after a million promises that I would be back soon, Emma was less than thrilled by the news of my departure.

This plane ride was one of the all-time worst. It was bad enough that I was sober, but I was also plagued with insecurities about leaving Emma and T.J. My schedule was going to
keep me busy until well-after T.J.’s return from camp. That meant that Emma would be telling him the news without me.

I called her after I landed and she sounded distant. I knew that my abrupt exodus from Salvation had pretty much confirmed her worst fears and she would remain cautious until I returned to town. Over the next few days, she proved me right. Our conversations were strained and brief. Emma claimed that she was busy at the store and the time difference was an obstacle, but I could tell that she was keeping her distance on purpose.

It didn’t help that everywhere I turned, someone was asking me about her. They all wanted to know about the mystery girl that had appeared on stage with me. A few people were curious because they thought she was talented, but most people were hoping for a more sensational story.

For the most part, I was able to deflect their questions with zippy one-liners. But during a particularly intense interview, I let down my guard for just a second and said too much.

“Emma’s an amazing woman,” I told the host of the late night show when he asked me about my new duet partner. “Amazing singer, amazing musician, and an amazing mother.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, I wanted to shove them back in. If people hadn’t figured out the connection yet, I had ju
st connected the dots for them.

A string of questions followed, each one prying even deeper than the last. By the time the interview was over, I was covered in sweat.
Even though the last half hour had been complete torture for me, I knew that it was nothing compared to how I was going to feel when I had to tell Emma that I’d discussed our relationship in front of a live studio audience and nearly a million more strangers watching at home. She was
not
going to be happy.

Emma

I was an independent woman. A single mother. A business owner. A woman who prided herself on living a fulfilling life without a man. But when Tyler left town, all of that seemed to disappear. All that I could think about was how much I missed him. Normally, I had T.J. around and his bubbly enthusiasm and ceaseless energy was always enough to distract me from my own troubles.

I still had a week and a half until T.J. would return, so I tried to keep busy with other things, namely work. The store had never been cleaner than it was a couple of days after Tyler left.
When it was time to go home at night, I had a bigger challenge keeping my mind occupied. Inevitably, I ended up on the internet looking for any news about Tyler.

He called almost every night, except for when he was busy and got home late. With the time difference, late in California was too late in Indiana. One night, after not speaking to Tyler in two days, I found an interview posted online.
I was expecting it to be like all the others; funny stories, charming smiles, and vague answers to personal questions.

But this time Tyler
made a mistake- he gave up a detail about me that people would not ignore. I was a mother, and it wouldn’t be hard for people to realize that my son was also Tyler’s son. I would’ve been furious if he hadn’t looked so darn adorable.

I tried calling him, but it went straight to voicemail. He tried calling me the next day, but I was busy accepting our weekly delivery at the store. We continued missing each other for an entire week. It seemed strange that in an era of such plentiful technology we couldn’t manage more than a few brief texts. When an entire day passed with no communication at all, I started to worry. It wasn’t until I saw the news later that I understood why.

Tyler had been arrested for fighting with a photographer. The “journalists” reporting the news didn’t have many facts to support their story, but a damning mug shot was enough proof to convince me that their story might be true. It was followed by clips of him leaving a courthouse with a pretty redhead by his side.

It wasn’t Tyler’s first arrest. It wasn’t even his second. The Tyler Cole of the last ten years had spent his days drinking and fighting. He probably had his own cell in the jail. But he had convinced me that he wasn’t that guy anymore. He swore he had given up drinking and I had believed him. If it was just me to worry about, maybe I could give him a chance to explain. But I had T.J. to protect, and I wasn’t sure I was willing to take a risk with Tyler if it meant that my son could get hurt.

That’s why I didn’t answer when Tyler called the next day. He left a long apology on my voicemail, which I stopped listening to after about four seconds. A day after the interview, I started getting calls from unknown numbers. Suddenly, it seemed like everyone in America was dying for a chance to interview me. They wanted to know if the rumors were true, if Tyler was the father of my child.

When the first paparazzo showed up in front of
the shop, I knew that my days of anonymity were over. I also knew that I couldn’t wait any longer to talk to T.J. If I waited until he got home from camp, he would notice our new stalkers with cameras before I had a chance to prepare him.

The day before he was scheduled to return from camp, I snuck out through the back door and made my way to Aunt Karen’s. With a little lie about a dead battery, I was able to convince her to lend me her car. Then I drove the ten miles to the campground.

I stopped in the office to let the camp director know that T.J. would be leaving a day early. After signing some forms, I was directed to cabin 4 where I found T.J. curled up on a top bunk, nose buried in a book.

“Aren’t you supposed to be participating in camp activities?” I said.

“Mom!” T.J. jumped from the flattened mattress and rushed into my arms. “What are you doing here? I thought I was supposed to take the bus back tomorrow.”

“You were. But I thought it might be more fun if I came and got you instead.”

T.J. was a smart enough kid to know that I wasn’t telling the complete truth. “What’s wrong, Mom?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” I tried to smile
, but it was weak. “Let’s take a walk, okay? I need to talk to you about something.”

It was a beautiful day and the camp was buzzing with activity. Dozens of kids were playing volleyball and badminton, while others were swimming in a nearby pond. A few of the kids called out to T.J. and he returned their greetings with a small wave. My unexpected arrival had made him nervous.

“Let’s take a seat under that tree.” I pointed to the one furthest from the camp activities. “The pond looks refreshing. Have you done a lot of swimming?”

“Not really.” T.J., ever the mature ten-year-old, said, “Those kids are too wild. I don’t trust them.”

“Looks to me like they are just having fun.”

“Mom.” T.J.’s serious eyes turned on me. “Why are you here?”

It was a valid question, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to answer it yet. “You like Tyler, right?”

“Yeah. He’s a good friend.” T.J. grinned. “Plus he really likes you, Mom.”

“I’m not asking because of me.” I had no idea where I was planning to go next with the conversation. “Do you remember when you asked me about your father a few weeks ago and I said I didn’t want to talk about him?”

T.J. nodded. “You were mad.”

“I wasn’t mad. At least not at you.” I chose my next words very carefully. “Do you still want to know about him?”

“For real?”

“For real.”

I told T.J. and abbreviated version of the story. There would be plenty of time for the details later.

“Your father left town before I knew that I was pregnant. He never even knew about you.” Above all else, I didn’t want Tyler to be the bad guy in this story. Despite all of the mistakes he had made, I needed T.J. to understand that I had made mistakes, too.

“Why didn’t you call him?”

“Because I was being selfish. I thought that involving him in our lives would be bad for us. Part of me also though that we would be bad for him.”

T.J. wasn’t buying it. “Why? Didn’t he want a family?”

“I think he probably did.” In fact, probably all Tyler had ever wanted was a family to love. “But he’s not like normal people, T.J. He’s a public figure, and he’s really busy.”

“So is Tyler and he still has time to hang out with us.” T.J. hadn’t quite connected the dots yet. “He cooks us dinner and plays catch with me. He even took us fishing. Why can’t my dad take some time to visit us, too?”

“Here’s the thing.” I took a deep breath. “Tyler has been spending so much time with us because I told him something about you.”

“What?”

“I told him that you are his son.” Just to be sure that T.J. understood, I added, “Tyler is your father, T.J.”

I wasn’t sure what kind of reaction I had been expecting.
Elation, screaming, crying- something extreme. But T.J. just squinted at me thoughtfully.

“I knew it,” he said at last, his smile brilliant like his father’s famous grin. “Well, I didn’t actually know it, but I knew that Tyler wasn’t just an old friend of yours.”

“You have his smile,” I said and T.J. grinned even bigger.

“Can we go see him now?”

I sighed. “Not exactly. He had to go back to California for a while.”

“How long?” T.J.’s brow furrowed deeply. “Is he coming back?”

“Yes.” I forced as much confidence as I could into my answer. “He just needed to take care of some work stuff.”

“Can I call him?”

I remembered all of the voicemails and texts I had been ignoring. But that was my issue, not T.J.’s. If he wanted to talk to his father, I could get past my own issues for that to happen. “Let’s go home and give him a call.”

I helped T.J. pack his belongings and then loaded the car while he said goodbye to his friends and the camp counselors. On the drive back into town, I warned him about the photographers that would likely be waiting for us. He was more than happy to play along as we dodged rose bushes and vegetable gardens in our neighbors’ backyards on our way from Aunt Karen’s to our home.

He took his stuff upstairs while I snuck a peek through the living room curtains. Only two or three men were camped outside, but I suspected the number would grow. I heard T.J.’s feet fly down the stairs and I was surprised when they stopped before he entered the room. At first, I thought he must’ve paused to tie his shoe, or maybe he was taking them off. But when he didn’t appear after a couple of minutes, I went looking for him.

“Did you get lost?” I teased when I found him in the hall. “You were only gone for two weeks!”

I was surprised when he didn’t laugh or even acknowledge me. He was holding yesterday’s newspaper, which I had carelessly left out.

“Tyler got arrested?”
T.J. asked, eyes wide.

“He got in
to a little fight,” I said.

“Is he okay?”

It figured that T.J. would be worried about Tyler while I hadn’t wondered once if Tyler was actually okay. I had been too busy fuming over his reckless behavior.

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “Why don’t we call him and find out?”

“I’m actually kind of tired,” T.J. said, glancing at the paper one more time. “Would it be okay if we call him later?”

“If that’s what you want to do.”

T.J. went upstairs to take a nap while I emptied his bags and started on an endless pile of dirty laundry. When he finally woke up in the afternoon, I was so excited to have him back home and be able to hear his stories that I forgot about our plan to call Tyler.

When I brought it up the next day, T.J. said he had plans to ride his bike to a friend’s house. The day after that, he wanted to spend
all of his time with Aunt Karen. It didn’t take a genius to realize that he was avoiding the call. I tried to confront him about it, but he just mumbled that he would do it later.

On top of T.J.’s strange behavior, I had to deal with a half-dozen photographers camped in front of my house and the store. It was bad enough that they took hundreds of pictures of me, but they also fought eagerly to snag shots of T.J. It wasn’t fair to keep him locked inside all day, so we made a lot of escapes through the backyard. Enough that the grass back there was nearly worn down to dirt.

About a week after Tyler’s arrest, the photographers grew bored waiting for a scandalous picture. I came home from work on a Friday and was surprised not to be the subject of a single picture. But that wasn’t my only surprise of the night. After dinner, T.J. was in his room reading a book when a soft knock sounded at the front door.

Glenn had mentioned that he might stop by with one of Wanda’s apple pies, so I opened the door expecting to find him on the other side of it.
I did not expect to see Tyler, looking nervous and pitiful.

“Hey,” he said.

My mouth opened but no sound came out. Over the last few days I had been envisioning this meeting in my head, running through the list of things I wanted to say to him. But now that he was standing right in front of me, my mind went blank.

“We need to talk.” Tyler glanced over my shoulder. “Is he home?”

“Yes.” I stepped onto the porch and closed the door behind me. “You’re right, we do need to talk.”

I took a seat on the top step and hugged my knees to my chest. It was an unseasonably cool evening and I regretted not pulling on something warmer before stepping outside. Tyler took a seat next to me looking perfectly comfortable in his cozy sweatshirt.

“I made a mistake, Em,” he said. “I have no excuse, no good reason for it.”

“You hit somebody.”

“I did.” He exhaled slowly. “This photographer had been following me around all day. He kept saying things, trying to get a reaction out of me. He said some stuff about you, and I was able to ignore it. But then he mentioned T.J. by name and said he would make sure his picture ended up on the front of every magazine. Then he implied that something bad might happen to one of you…

“I know I shouldn’t have hit him. I completely lost my temper.” Tyler’s head dropped and he ran his hands through his hair. I noticed that the knuckles on one hand were still bruised. “I wish I could take it back, but I can’t.”

“Should you have left the state?” I was pretty sure that was a violation of parole.

Tyler scoffed. “The guy dropped the charges after some bystanders gave statements that he threatened
me. So at least I won’t be going to jail.”

“You got lucky.” I believed that Tyler regretted what he had done and I understood that he thought he had been protecting T.J., but that didn’t mean that I condoned his behavior.

“I’m starting to think that I might be running out of second chances.”

A breeze rustled through the air and I shivered. “I told T.J.”

“About the arrest?” Tyler frowned, then shrugged out of his hoodie. “Here, put this on.”

My pride told me to turn down his offer, but my body said that it was cold and I shouldn’t be a fool. I pulled it on and sank into its warmth. “No, he found out about that on his own. I told him that you’re his father.”