Above the Noise (40 page)

“I’m so sorry, Calon. That was so stupid! Danny’s going to kill me for that.” I rubbed my forehead. I felt like my life was a giant tornado of emotions. At that very moment, I wanted to jump across the table into Calon’s lap and ride him like a cowgirl. I was still working through the fear of giving birth to a special needs child, and I was on the brink of tears, because the number of hours we had left before we’d be separated by more than a couple states were dwindling. In addition to that, I was fed up with sharing Calon with every horny woman on the fucking planet. It’s not like I didn’t know what I was getting myself into. It was no secret that there wasn’t a uterus in the seas of concert-goers that wasn’t craving his seed. I knew what dating a semi-famous rock star meant, yet I wanted to slit the throats of every fucking woman who looked a little too long at him. The fact that the typical stare started at his face and ended on his crotch didn’t help.

“Becks, I couldn’t care less what people think about me or our relationship and the baby. I love you, I love our baby, and I love playing music. What other people think is completely irrelevant.” He squeezed the hand I still held across the table.

“Danny keeps telling us that you guys will lose fans if girls know you’re taken.” I took a sip of my water.

“If there are people out there who love Alternate Tragedy on the condition that its members stay single, then they really aren’t loving our music. They’re loving the
idea
of us; an idea they’ve created in their own minds. And that’s just bullshit. Telling the media that we’re having a baby will just weed out those people just riding the bandwagon. Ya know?” He picked up his Rolling Rock and held it up to make a toast. “To our beautiful baby girl, Abigail Kate, may the next fifteen weeks fly by, so we can meet her in person.”

That number, fifteen, knocked the wind out of me. I knew I was a mother the moment she was conceived, but I would be a legit mom when she was on the outside of my body. Then I’d have to know the difference between her hunger cries and her gassy ones. I’d have to get up with her throughout the night and walk her around when she was inconsolable. A level of fear I hadn’t experienced yet came over me. I felt a hundred pounds heavier in the little wrought iron café chair that held my already growing ass.

“Becks, whoa. What in the world? You’re as pale as a ghost.” Calon slid his chair out from under him, like he was going to swoop me up in his arms and carry me to the hospital.

“Sit down, dork. I’m fine. It’s just when you said ‘fifteen weeks’ I realized how soon she would really be here. All the things I’ve been reading in that book flew into my head all at once. The Braxton Hicks contractions, the possibility of pissing myself with no warning, the labor. Oh, God, Calon, did you know some women are in labor for days? Days! Then there’s everything we have to know after we take her home. Feedings and diapers, fevers, and crying.” His face went white, and I was sure the weight of our reality hit him as hard as it had just got me.

“So, this is what’s got you all keyed up. Wait! Did you say, days?” He was obviously thrown by the labor thing. “How the hell am I supposed to know what to do for you?” He dropped my hand to rub his temples.

“We’ll have to sign up for birthing classes.” Then it hit me. “Shit! How are we supposed to do birthing classes while you’re out here and I’m home? Maybe they can just cut her out.” My panic level shot up into dangerous territory.

“Becks, I’m pretty sure there’s a way we can do it. Would you be okay with Gracie being in the room with us? You know, while you’re having the baby?” I loved that she was the first person he thought of.

“Of course, and maybe she could take the birthing classes with me if you’re be in LA. As long as you’re okay with it. You wouldn’t care would you?”

“Not at all. So, Gracie can take the birth classes with you, and she can be just as much my coach as yours when the big day comes. She’ll just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. You know, the ice chips and the weird breathing and stuff.” Seeing my big, tough, sexy rock star rattled about the birth of our child, somehow relaxed my entire body. Everything would be okay. I knew it at that very moment.

“You’ve been reading the books by the bed, haven’t you?” My heart fluttered.

“Well, of course, I have. You don’t think I was going to just sit there and watch, do you? I even know what to do with the olive oil.” He lifted his eyebrows and winked.

“Olive oil? What the hell are you talking about?” I couldn’t wait to hear what part of the book he’d misinterpreted.

“Becki Jane Mowry, do I know something you don’t know?”

“Calon, seriously? I can’t fathom what you think you’re supposed to do with olive oil. Please, do tell.”

“It was in the papers Dr. Daily gave us, and I have a feeling it’s what she was referring to that one day when she said there were things I could help with. So, anyway, it said that because your… uh… you know, your parts…” He nodded in the direction of my crotch that was completely out of his line of vision thanks to the table between us. “Your parts are gonna stretch like crazy, and the baby’s head could rip you up—”

“Calon!” I instinctively pressed my thighs together, and I immediately understood why guys buckle just at the thought of getting hit in the nads.

“No, I’m serious. The book said if you rub olive oil there regularly, it will keep your skin elastic and significantly lower the chance of it tearing. I can do that.” He nodded and finished his beer in one final gulp, and I pressed my thighs together for a completely different reason. He was so hot.

“Your salads.” Teeny was back, and her skirt was pulled back down closer to her knees. Hooker. “Can I get you two anything else?”

Calon looked at me and smirked. “Yeah, the check and a small to-go container of olive oil, please.”

“SO, DO YOU
really think there’s a connection between Danny and Malcolm?” Gracie looked up at me from her plate of fries.

“Actually, there’s a connection between Malcolm and a lot of the negative shit that’s happened since we left Knoxville.” I shook my head, still in disbelief that someone would go to such lengths to try and kill someone else’s success.

“Really? How?” Gracie looked back and forth between me and Becki.

“Well,” Becki cleared her throat. “Malcolm was blackmailing Danny with information he supposedly had that connected her… intimately… to a big name artist who was married.”

“What? That’s insane.” Gracie shook her head.

“And,” I continued when Becki took another huge bite of her salad. “Apparently Malcolm found Violet and Charlotte on an Alternate Tragedy fan site. He saw all their posts in the ‘I’m the biggest Calon fan’ thread and contacted them when he realized where they lived. He created a unique story for each of them to get them to do his dirty work. We’ve heard through the grapevine that Malcolm had been using the site to get proof for the shit he sells to the tabloids, too. When Charlotte was questioned by police for her false accusation she admitted to connecting with him on that website. We can only assume that Violet also got paid for the photo of me at the OB’s office.” The whole thing gave me a headache.

“So, what’s Malcolm got against Alternate Tragedy?” Jake looked stunned.

“Malcolm’s been losing his pull in the industry, and I guess he panicked. We turned down his numerous offers to be our manager, and it pissed him off, so I guess he orchestrated the hashtags, the photos that were supposed to be incriminating, and Charlotte’s police report.”

“And, we still haven’t figured out why we lost power at The Moondance, but we do know that Malcolm’s daughter is the one who made the bogus announcement. So, we assume Malcolm was behind that, too.” I watched Becki’s fists clench on top of the table.

“Are you firing Danny?” Gracie liked Danny, and I could tell by the look on her face she was hoping for the best for her.

“No. We’ve got nothing against her. She’s a great girl, just got in a little over her head. Malcolm was the reason Danny took that selfie that looked like we were about to kiss. He sold it under a fictitious name to the tabloids. When she realized it wasn’t just her he was manipulating, she went to the police with his texts and emails, and pressed charges.” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to clear my head.

“Can we talk about something else? This is really bringing me down.” Becki laughed and started telling Gracie and Jake a funny story from our trek in the van to LA.

It was a gorgeous Sunday afternoon, and Jake and Gracie flew in for our Valentine’s Day show at The House of Blues. I didn’t remember ever being as nervous as I was then, and the show was still a good seven hours away. But, the countdown to my proposal was so close I could taste it.

Gracie and Jake were going to be a huge part of my plan. I needed to make sure Becki made it out that night, and I needed her close enough to the front of the crowd for me to have her join me on stage. Her safety and comfort were the biggest uncontrollable factors in my plan.

Gracie had also been planning Becki’s shower since the moment she found out Becki was pregnant, but she hadn’t picked the date. Although, she knew she wanted it to be at Mitchell’s. Friday nights were still Gracie’s nights to perform, and she’d been readying the crowd for the event knowing how Becki loved things done big. The Mitchell’s crowd was a close-knit bunch, and Gracie knew the fans who embraced Alternate Tragedy would love to celebrate the baby. All these surprises were making me a nervous wreck. I hated having to keep secrets from Becki when I was used to sharing everything with her. Recently, I’d had to break our ‘what are you thinking’ rule a couple times, bullshitting my way through the answer each time, which I hated.

“What are you thinking?” Becki interrupted my thoughts.

“I’m thinking there’s a lot to see in LA. We need to get movin’ and show these guys around, or we’ll be late for the show.”
Dammit.
Lied again.

We spent the day taking Gracie and Jake around the city, and showing them all the famous places you hear about or see on TV and in the movies. Becki was a good sport. I knew how tired she was; I could see it on her face as the day went on, but she stayed lively. A couple fans came up to us just to talk to Becki about the baby.

After the amniocentesis results came back positive, we decided we would be open to the public and the press about the fact that Abigail would be born with Down syndrome. We talked a lot about all the good we could do by raising awareness. Even Spider, Manny, and Bones brought up the possibly of supporting The Knoxville Extension School as our own personal philanthropy. It wasn’t a Down syndrome facility, per se, but much of the student body happened to have Down syndrome.

When it was time for the guys and me to head out to The House of Blues, Gracie and Jake knew it was up to them to get Becki there by nine and have her as close to the stage as they could get her for our encore. I’d alerted the bouncers at our show the night before what was going down and who would be asking for their help to get down front. All in all, everything was going according to plan, but I was a fucking nervous wreck.

“Dude, you sure you wanna do this?” As much as Bones loved Becki and was excited about our little girl, marriage scared the piss out of him. I was pretty sure he would be a career playboy and never settle down.

“Yeah, I’m nervous as hell. But I’m more than sure, I’m positive.” Manny and Spider clapped me on the back and then shook my hand. Bones shrugged and gave me an awkward hug. Sucking in a deep breath, I leaned past Bones to see out into the crowd from the side of the stage where we were hidden. The crowd was even bigger than the night before. Danny had gotten word that there were at least two record labels coming, the ‘missed conference call’ label being one of them. Both were interested in approaching us with deals.

“Relax, man. You got this.” Danny pulled me in for a hug.

I nodded and squared my shoulders.

I’d always thought the guys who looked so scared just before they were about to propose, were afraid their girl may say no. Well, I knew Becki wouldn’t say no, and I was still shaking in my Docs.

“Ladies and gentleman, gracing our stage for the second night in a row, please welcome Alternate Tragedy!” The voice bellowed from the rafters, and the crowd went wild. We always waited just a little longer than most bands before we walked out on stage, just to keep the hype up; however, my feet felt like lead tonight, and I struggled to move them when the guys made their way onto the stage. They always insisted I be the last one out, because that’s when the crowd’s energy skyrocketed. I didn’t get it, but they were right. The second I got my feet to move and my body hit the edge of the stage, the crowd lost it. I could do nothing but chuckle, and I felt the natural peace I always felt on stage drown out my unnecessary jitters.