Fan Girl (30 page)

After I get home from the concert, I toss down the bag of shirts I got and see Deklan under a huge pile of books and magazines with sticky notes in them. He looks up at me and stands. “Thank Christ. Dean stopped by with ideas,” he says. “He wants us to look and pick out certain elements so he can get the details together. There are too many freaking Post-it notes.” He grabs a beer from the fridge and twists the top off.

“I’ll take a look at it,” I tell him. He goes back to the couch and puts his feet up on the coffee table, totally ignoring all the clutter around him. I shake my head, pick up a book of swatches, and get started. I put stars on the post-its I like, and pass them off to Deklan for approval. There are floor tiles, hardwood, paint swatches, and general room pictures from magazines. I get halfway through the pile, before my coach turns back into a pumpkin at midnight, and I have to pack it up for the night.

The next morning I get up at seven and get back to the books. I want everything done by the time I have to go to work so that Sarah can have them back and move to the next step.

At eleven, I’m eating a sandwich when Della calls me. She’s over the moon excited that we’re moving to the neighborhood. She says she’s coming to L.A. to do some shopping next week for the mini photo shoot with her kids that she’s doing, and wants to get lunch. I agree and we set a time and place to meet up.

Deklan and I are leaving the house at the same time nowadays, since he’s started recording with the band. He gets home a little after I do, so I’m taking my turn at making dinner. I had put chili in the crock-pot before work, so when I got home I just had to make corn bread. I’m pulling it out of the oven when Deklan walks in with a guitar case in his hand. He comes over and gives me a kiss before getting a beer from the fridge.

“Hey, baby. How was your day?” he asks me.

“Long, my back is hurting more. How was yours?”

“Things are coming together for one song, the other one I hate. Pete’s really into it though, so we’re trying to make it work.” We dish up bowls of steaming chili and squares of corn bread and take it to the table. I casually pick up the baby name book I had set on the table earlier and nudge it toward him with my finger.

He looks at it, then back at me. “What’s up, babe?”

I take a deep breath. “Well, I thought you should pick the name.” I swallow and roll my lips in to bite them. I’ve been nervous about this for the past couple weeks when I thought about it, so I made myself not think about it. Deklan stares at me expressionless. My heart is beating a jig, and I think I might pass out if he doesn’t say something soon. He looks down and clears his throat. Shit, he doesn’t want to, I’m an idiot. I open my mouth to tell him I changed my mind when he leans forward and holds my hand on the table.

“I love you, Ali. I love you so much I don’t have words. And I love this baby. I would love to pick the name. Thank you.”

My breath catches and my hand spasms under his. I feel like I’ve been waiting for him to say it forever, but at the same time it’s too soon. I go with my gut. “I love you too Deklan. I still get to veto, though.”

He throws his head back and laughs then stands up and leans over the table to kiss my lips. He smiles that bright smile at me and says, “Of course you do, baby.” The rest of the night is spent with me on Pinterest... seriously, it’s so addicting... and Deklan going through books and websites.

Later in bed when our breath returns to normal, we’re lying face to face on our sides talking quietly. “What are you hoping the baby will be when we find out tomorrow?” I ask him.

“It’s gonna be a girl, and she’s gonna look exactly like her mama.”

I smile and shake my head. “You just want another girl to spoil. YOU need to think about boyfriends and periods.”

Deklan wrinkles his nose. “She’s not dating until she’s thirty anyway, that’s a given.”

I laugh. “I can’t believe it’s time for another appointment.”

He moves his hand to rub my tummy, which is getting bigger every day and unmistakable now. “Time flies when you’re happy.”

“I know. I need to get a camera so I can catch it all. We’re definitely going to need one before the baby comes.”

“Della knows all about that. She’s the amateur photographer. And then there’s Bobby of course.”

“She’s really good! She showed me some of her work. I want Bobby to take ours so we have something to hang in the house, though.”

He nods. “Sure, whatever you-” Deklan snatches his hand away from my stomach as I gasp and jump a mile. He throws his hand back on my stomach, and we both hold our breath, staring at each other.. When my lungs are bursting and I can feel my pulse in my head we feel another tap from the inside. We both exhale and suck in much needed air. There’s another tap tap and we slowly smile at each other. “Is this the first time you’ve felt this?” he whispers.

I nod. “I felt the bubbles like Della was talking about but I couldn’t be sure if it was actual bubbles. This is the first time I’ve felt like I’m actually being poked. So cool.”

He smiles. “Coolest thing I’ve ever felt.” We sit and wait for more taps but it seems the baby went to sleep. Fifteen minutes later Deklan pulls me to him and whispers in my hair, “I love you, Ali.”

I smile. “I love you, too.”

~

The next morning we’re back at the doctor’s office, and this time Deklan gets to stay there for the whole thing. I get measured—right on point—and weighed. I've gained two pounds. The doctor hits the lights and pulls up my shirt to squirt gel on my belly. Deklan takes his spot and holds my hand. We watch the screen, and I’m shocked that I can actually tell what everything is now.

“Wow, that’s a lot of growing” Deklan says.

Yeah it is! A month ago it looked like a half-skeleton, now you can clearly see the nose and mouth, its round tummy.

The doctor points to the eyes, nose. “Looks like she’s sucking her thumb.”

“She?” Deklan asks.

“Oh, I was just going by the heartbeat. Generally girls are faster, boys are slower. Your baby has a heartbeat of one sixty one. Let’s take some measurements.” She scrolls and clicks, measuring the head, arms, femurs, umbilical flow. The baby starts to move and the doctor says, “Oh, we better see what this one is before the legs get crossed now that she’s awake.”

Deklan and I hold our breath as the doctor moves the wand to find the right position. “Yup, looks like a girl to me. Do you guys have a name picked out?”

Deklan is beaming. He looks down at me and squeezes my hand. “Teagan Delaney Thomas.”

I smile back. “I love it.”

“It means little princess.”

“Uh oh,” the doctor jokes as she wipes my stomach, “already a princess!”

We get our pictures and go to lunch. Since it’s my day off, Deklan took it off too, while the guys lay down their instrumentals for the song they’ve been working on this week. At lunch, we decide to have a get-together on Sunday and tell everyone at the same time. I call my Shell girl Fadra, who does the late shift, and enlist her to be the party planner. She always organizes any celebrations we have. I, of course, have scoped out Pinterest on this and know exactly what I want to do. After I give her specifics and tell her I will email her the guest list tonight, Deklan and I go shopping.

Of course he causes a stir, but he’s so generous with his fans. He poses for pictures and signs autographs, but never stops moving. He keeps one hand around my waist or holding my hand at all times, and I’m thankful I’m wearing a loose fitted short white A-frame dress. It has long sleeves with key holes cut out from shoulder to wrist and a long necklace with two bronze feathers on it. Tan four inch sandals on my feet and I’m good. At least I look decent. The last few weeks I’ve been sitting out on my balcony in the mornings so my tan is getting darker.

We find some clothes for the baby in the boutiques that we wind up getting, but with the cameras going off in the windows, we decide it might be best to go out of town to get anything more. We drive about an hour north and enter Babies R Us for the first time.

Deklan put on a beanie and sunglasses, and unrolled the sleeves of his gray button-down shirt to cover his tattoos. He’s trying not to get noticed. We stop in the entrance and look around in awe. He murmurs, “Holy shit.”

I nod. “It’s the mecca of all that is baby.” A mother of two clears her throat behind us pushing her cart full of kids, so we move out of the doorway and start on the first aisle.

“Oh my God, how are you supposed to pick a bottle? They’re all different shapes and say they’re the best.” I look around wide-eyed at all the different brands.

“Why don’t you ask Della?” Deklan asks, trying to be helpful I know, but still. I turn to him and explain, “Because I can’t go to her every five minutes about everything. I have to figure this out. I’ll ask her about the bottles, but that’s it.” I text her and she writes back.

“Della says all babies are different, and you might go through four or five brands before she’ll settle on one. But Dr. Brown and Avent are good brands.” Deklan grabs the pink Dr. Browns and Avent bottles, but they’re huge and hold eight ounces.

“Babe, we don’t have to get this stuff now. We don’t even have a house to put it in yet. Obviously we need to do a lot of research. Plus those bottles are way too big. See, it says six plus months on it.” After he puts them back we inspect the pacifiers and Boppys, diaper rash cream, and baby gates. We finally get completely overwhelmed and just go to the clothes.

We grab some Ralph Lauren layettes and call it good. Once we get back home I smile as I hang up the clothes in the closet, then go try to find a caterer for Sunday and a bakery who can make a cake by then. Afterwards I type baby clothes into a search engine and find great sites that feature boutique artists. Della also sent me a link to a hair bow website where I go absolutely insane.

Then I get on Pinterest and search hair bow organization and decide I’m going to get crafty for the first time in my life. Deklan has his guitar hooked up to his computer and is recording melodies, I think. He has headphones on and click click clicks then I hear the strings being plucked and more clicking.

Deklan’s phone rings as I get up to make dinner, and he walks into the bedroom to take the call. I get out everything to make stuffed pork chops and have my hands full of sausage and stuffing when Deklan comes back out.

“Everything okay?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he says. “Just setting up times to meet tomorrow.”

“Oh, okay.” But it’s strange because he usually wouldn’t leave the room to take calls.

Chapter 32

We decide to have the party in the pasture at the new house. Since it’s the end of spring/early summer the grass is bright green. Dean has had the keys for a week, so the fence has already been painted. We get two party buses, since getting through the gate in individual cars is a problem, and it’s a long drive anyway. This way everyone can drink and have a good time without worrying about designated drivers, too.

I’m dressed in an above the knee denim shirt dress with skinny brown belt around the waist and brown fringe leather ankle boots. My hair is half up and in loose curls. Deklan decided he wanted to match me today so he has a denim button-down shirt with brown corduroy pants and brown leather flip flops.

We board the bus at noon, and I sit with Nola. She tries her hardest to get us to break or give a hint, but we’re too close now. When we get to the house, Deklan and I both notice how great the fence looks. It’s sparkling white and not the aged gray wood it was before.

In the middle of the front pasture, which is huge at about four acres, there’s a big oak tree. To the side of that, tables are set up with a buffet laid out. Tommy and Della are there with their kids already, and I notice some other men with them. Finally they turn around when we’re about fifty feet away and I see Santa in a button-down shirt. It’s Reed.

I shriek out a loud, “Reed!” and start running.

Bobby happens to be the other guy and he pulls out his camera. I reach Reed and he picks me up and turns in a circle, saying in my ear, “Oh my girl.” He smells just the same, like peppermints and latex.

“What are you doing here?”

He pulls me back by the shoulders and looks me over, then turns to Deklan and waves to him. “Well, your man here called me and said I needed to get on a plane.”

I turn to Deklan with tears in my eyes. “You did?”

He smiles warmly. “Yeah baby, I knew you would want him here.”

I hug him. “Thank you, this is perfect.” Nola comes up to be introduced to Reed, and they go off to talk about us.

Della finally exclaims, “Oh I just can’t take it. Will you tell us now?!”

Everyone laughs and Bobby positions us so that the background is the huge brick house far away. There's a crowd of thirty or so people, including the whole band, Nola, Reed, Deklan’s manager, assistant, publicist, Dean, Sarah, all of the Shell crew and their families and a few close friends. Then, about ten feet away from them, are Deklan and I with a big box between us that comes waist high. On both sides of the box is a black heart and in the middle it says Boy or girl in blue, white and pink. The pictures should be really good.

The crows count down and Deklan and I smile huge at each other, then open the box on one. About twenty pink balloons float out to the sky, and the crowd cheers. All of the girls are jumping up and down giddily.

Nola yells, “What’s her name!” She and Reed are holding on to each other with tears on their cheeks.

“Teagan Delaney Thomas,” Deklan informs them, and they all cheer again. We get hugs and congratulations from everyone, then sit down to eat.

Della and Tommy are sitting close to Deklan, me, Reed, and Nola at the long table. Della is telling me what camera to get. I tell her I want to make a picture frame holder for all the bows I bought and she immediately wants to do one for Dakota, too. Dean mentions from down the table that he knows exactly what he wants to do for the room, and he’ll be sending me more emails and paint swatches tomorrow.