Hitting the Right Note (19 page)

A
pprehension twisted inside JJ, but the look on Deacon's face told her that he had come to her because he had no one else. So she grabbed her coat and her purse and followed him out the door of her suite. Deacon headed to the elevator, but JJ turned toward the door to the stairs.

“Where are you going?” Deacon asked, confused.

“I don't do elevators,” JJ said, her hand on the door to the stairwell.

“We're going up to the rooftop parking,” Deacon said. “I don't have time to take the stairs.”

“Then you don't have time for me,” JJ said. “I don't do elevators.”

Deacon's face wrinkled in confusion. “This some kind of phobia?”

“Something like that.”

He sighed. “Alright. Let's go.”

Neither of them spoke as they took the stairs up to the rooftop parking. Deacon's hand on her back kept her close as they moved quickly through the sparsely lit parking area to the dark Navigator that Miles used to transport Deacon around while they were in Atlanta. This led to JJ's first question.

“Where's Miles?” JJ asked.

“Keeping an eye on Sabrina,” Deacon responded. He pressed a button on the key and the car chirped before the doors unlocked. Opening the driver's door, he ushered JJ in before closing the door and coming around to settle himself on the passenger side.

JJ closed her eyes and said a quick prayer before backing out of their spot and following the arrows toward the garage exit. Deacon typed in their destination on the GPS, and JJ waited until they were a few blocks away from the hotel before she opened her mouth again.

“Okay, so you want to tell me what's going on?” JJ asked.

“Not really,” Deacon said. “But I suppose I owe you an explanation.”

She looked over at him. He was wearing the same dark expression that he'd had since she opened her hotel-room door almost fifteen minutes earlier. She was starting to get used to Deacon's severe mood swings, but this one she had never seen before. He was wearing shades, even though the night was dark, and weariness, like a heavy wet blanket, rested on his person.

“I need to go see someone,” he said. “But no one can know about it. Not Kate, not Miles. No one.”

“Not even Sabrina?”

“Especially not Sabrina.”

“But won't they know you went somewhere, since you're not out partying with everyone else as usual?” JJ asked.

“Maybe, but they know Miles is my transportation, so they'll just think I took someone back to my hotel room. There's a
DO NOT DISTURB
on the door to support that.”

JJ blinked. “So you would rather Sabrina think you are cheating on her than have her know where you're going?”

He turned to look at JJ. “I would rather lose Sabrina, and everything that comes with her, than let anyone know where I'm going. That's how serious it is.”

JJ's head was spinning with questions. Where was she taking him? What was so important that he had to hide it from the people closest to him? And what did he mean about everything that came with Sabrina? More and more she felt she was missing some critical information connected to her bandmate.

It took Deacon's yelling her name for her to realize that she had missed the turn that the GPS ordered. She had to make a U-turn to get back on track.

“Just take it easy,” Deacon said, glancing wearily from JJ to the rearview mirror. “I don't need us getting stopped by the police. That's why I asked you to drive me, anyway.”

“What, you can't drive yourself ?”

“My license was suspended. DUI a couple months back. That's why Miles drives me everywhere. And that's why I couldn't take the chance of driving myself. Sure, it's late and I might not get caught, but if I did, it would be in the news everywhere and that would ruin everything.”

“Look, Deacon, I'm not feeling real comfortable with this,” JJ said, beginning to slow down. Maybe there was time for her to back out. “If this is something illegal . . .”

“It's not,” Deacon said, touching JJ's hand on the steering wheel. “It's just something that no one can know about. After what you did back in Philly, I know I can trust you.”

“Deacon, you don't know me,” JJ said. “You don't know that I won't sell your secret to the tabloid willing to pay the highest price.”

“I do know,” Deacon said. “And when we get where we're going, you'll see why.”

They were both quiet the rest of the ride, as the city faded behind them, making way for the Atlanta suburbs. A little more than an hour later, JJ pulled up to a massive metal gate and the GPS announced that they had reached their destination.

Deacon pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number from memory.

“I'm here.”

The gates creaked slightly as they swung open on their own, and JJ followed the long driveway under a canopy of trees until a huge, three-story mansion came into sight. She began to have flashbacks of the night she first auditioned for Deacon. She wondered if tonight was going to be a similar life-changing experience.

JJ stopped the SUV in front of the walkway that led to the main entrance. The front doors opened, silhouetting a tiny female figure.

“Let's go, we don't have a lot of time.” Deacon jumped out of the vehicle and JJ followed suit, having to jog a little to catch up with him before he disappeared inside the house.

As JJ entered, the house seemed as large as Deacon's but felt different—more homey. The front doors led into a wide passageway that opened up into a living area. Even through the muted lighting JJ could see the plush, overstuffed couches with colorful throws tossed over them. A few stuffed animals were scattered about, and a stack of colorful DVDs sat on the floor below the large flat-screen television.

“How is he?” Deacon asked the older woman who had met them at the door, as he cut through the living room toward the stairs.

“Still weak, but better now than he was a few days ago,” the woman said. She touched Deacon's arm. “Ever since you called, he's been asking for you.”

JJ saw the pain in Deacon's features and her mind raced. Who was this person who Deacon needed to secretly see? His father? A brother? The woman leading their way up the stairs could easily be Deacon's mother, but he wasn't relating to her as if she was a parent. Then before she could question further, the door to a bedroom opened and JJ saw.

She let out a gasp. Even with his flushed, caramel-colored skin and shock of tightly coiled brownish-black hair, the resemblance between the little boy and Deacon was obvious. No one had to tell her. This was Deacon's son.

“Uncle D!”

“Xavier!”

The little boy's face broke into a wide grin and his eyes lit up when he saw Deacon. Sinking down onto the side of the bed, Deacon pulled the little boy into his arms and held him close. JJ was almost sure she heard something like a sniffle, but she couldn't be sure because Deacon's back was to her.

“How are you, little man?” Deacon asked when he finally let the boy go.

“I'm okay,” Xavier said. “Grandma says I'm getting better.”

“What are you doing up so late?” Deacon chided. “It's way past your bedtime.”

“Mommy said you were coming tonight, and I wanted to wait up until you came,” Xavier said. “Plus I've been sleeping all day. Mommy wouldn't even let me play video games. All I could do was read books.”

Xavier made a face to let them know how he felt about that, and Deacon chuckled. JJ had to cover her mouth to hide her own laughter.

“Is that so?” Deacon said with smile.

“Yes,” Xavier said, nodding. “Ask Grandma. Isn't it true, Grandma?”

The older woman chuckled and nodded. “It is.”

“Okay, Xavier, it's time for bed,” a voice called. From her position just outside the door, JJ couldn't see who, but knew that tone well enough to know it could only come from a mother.

“But Mo-mmmy . . .”

“No buts! You wanted to wait up see your uncle and now you've seen him. I'm taking your temperature and then you're going back to sleep.”

Something pricked at the back of JJ's mind, but she couldn't quite reach it. She moved away from the door to give Deacon and his “family” a few private moments together. Looking over the banister, she got a full view of the living room. She noted the piano in the corner, which she had missed during her earlier observations. Somehow it made sense that Deacon would be involved with another musician. Isn't that the way it went in this business?

“See you in the morning, little man.”

“Good night, Xavier.”

“Good night, Mommy. Good night, Uncle.”

JJ turned around just as the door to Xavier's bedroom closed. Then she got the second shock of the night. She gasped.

“Now you see why I knew I could trust you,” Deacon said as he caught her shocked expression. “JJ, Xavier is my son.”

He glanced at the familiar woman who was at his side, watching JJ. “This is Cymmone. She's Xavier's mother.”

“S
o let me see if I understand this: Xavier is Deacon's son, but Xavier thinks Brady is his father?” JJ asked.

It was the following morning and she was sitting at the kitchen counter having breakfast with Cymmone. She had spent the night in Cymmone's guest room while Deacon had slept on a cot in Xavier's room. During the night, Xavier's fever broke and he had woken up with more energy than the day before. Through the patio doors, JJ could see him playing out back with Deacon.

“Yes,” Cymmone said. “When I stepped back from the spotlight, I was already pregnant with Xavier. Brady knew about it, but he also knew that I loved him and that there would never be anything between me and Deacon. In spite of my pregnancy, he still wanted to marry me. So I said yes.”

“But why let Xavier think Brady is his dad?”

Cymmone sighed. “That was all Deacon's idea. He didn't want Xavier growing up in the spotlight, being constantly photographed and followed around. He wanted him to live an ordinary life, the way Deacon had, growing up. He knew that if people knew Xavier was his son, that would never happen.”

“And Brady was okay with that?” JJ knew she was asking very personal questions, but she couldn't stop herself.

“Not at first, but Deacon insisted, and after a while, we all just agreed.” Cymmone looked toward the patio. “Sometimes I wonder, though, if that was the right decision.”

JJ followed Cymmone's gaze to where Deacon and Xavier were horsing around. She watched Xavier squeal as Deacon picked him up and spun him around a little. JJ had never seen Deacon look so happy—not even when he was onstage.

“He loves that little boy,” JJ said absently.

“And Xavier adores him too,” Cymmone said. “Sometimes I wonder if somewhere deep inside he already knows the truth.”

JJ was struggling. She tried to understand what Cymmone, Deacon, and Brady must have been going through, the circumstances that had caused them to make the decision they made. But having grown up most of her life in a situation where her parents didn't live together, she had a perspective that maybe was unfamiliar to Deacon and Cymmone. And despite the challenges her family situation may have caused, she would never have wanted her parents to lie to her about any of it.

“You can't think there's anyway this could end well,” JJ said. “Xavier is going to figure out the truth one day, and if it's not from you or Deacon or Brady, he's going to end up resenting one or all of you for it. And even if you break it to him later on, how devastated and angry is he going to be about having grown up being told a lie?”

Cymmone's eyes were glassy when she turned to look at JJ again.

“I think about that every day. Believe me, I do,” she said, her quiet voice shaking. “But it's complicated. Brady loves Xavier like his own. He was there when he was born. He could never think of him as anything but his son. And maybe if Deacon was a deadbeat dad, this would be easier. But he's not. He loves Xavier too. Anytime Xavier needs Deacon, he's there. Why do you think I was in Philly the same time as the tour? Xavier wanted to see Deacon, and that was the only way to do it without drawing too much attention. You remember a year ago, Deacon canceled the last three shows of his tour?”

“Yeah,” JJ said. “I remember fans were upset, until they were offered free tickets to a show later in the year. News said it was because Deacon was injured during a rehearsal.”

Cymmone shook her head. “Xavier swallowed a pen cap and it got stuck in his throat. We had to rush him to emergency. Deacon was there before Xavier was even admitted.”

“Pilgrimage to Africa right before this tour?” Cymmone offered.

JJ's mouth fell open. “No way . . .”

Cymmone nodded with a smile. “Camping with Xavier, Brady, and my brother.”

“But there were pictures!”

“From when he went there earlier this year.”

JJ sat back in her chair and looked outside again at Deacon with a new appreciation. “Wow.”

“Yeah. I know this doesn't make sense to you, JJ, and you probably think we're wrong for doing this, but we don't see any other way,” Cymmone said, getting up from her stool and taking her mug over to the kettle. “It's not just about keeping Xavier out of the spotlight, it's also about raising him in a way that is pleasing to God. Deacon would make a great dad, but the way he lives would be a lousy example of the kind of man Xavier should be. I want Xavier to grow up in the knowledge and wisdom of Christ. I want him to have a personal relationship with Christ—to see him as his all in all. How could God want him to grow up in an environment where that would be impossible?”

“So you're saying God wants you to lie to your son instead,” JJ said.

Cymmone's mug slipped through her fingers and tipped over on the counter, creating a soppy mess of green tea that spread across the surface and began to drip onto the floor.

JJ jumped up and dashed over to grab the nearest kitchen towel and began sopping up the mess. Then she realized Cymmone was standing by the counter, her hands shaking. JJ abandoned the towel and pulled the woman into her arms.

“I'm sorry,” JJ muttered. “I didn't mean to hurt your feelings like that. Sometimes I just say the first thing that comes to my mind without filtering.”

She led Cymmone back to their seats, and Cymmone slipped onto the stool once more, burying her face in her hands. Tiny sobs shook her body.

“Brady's not here,” she said, her words muffled by her hands.

JJ had noticed. As she lay in Cymmone's guest bed the night before, trying to fall asleep, she had wondered about it, thought it odd that a man would choose to be away from his home while his child was sick and his wife in distress—especially a man who was as good as Cymmone had told her Brady was. In the light of the morning, with Cymmone's explanations, it didn't seem so strange anymore.

“He took the baby and our other son to his dad's place for the night. He won't say it”—Cymmone sniffled—“but he can't be around Xavier and Deacon. It's hard for him to watch them together, watch Deacon in our home, maintain this lie.”

“Have you talked to him about this?” JJ asked. “About how you think he feels?”

Cymmone shook her head. “It's too hard. This thing is like a boulder in the middle of our marriage. But it's too late to change it now. We have to do this to protect Xavier. We have no choice.”

JJ sighed and slipped onto her own stool. “You know, Cymmone, I think that's the biggest lie the devil tells all of us: We have no choice. I know I certainly bought that one long enough.” JJ shook her head. “But the truth is, we always have a choice. We can choose to trust God or to do things our way. We can wait for his direction or we can start walking on our own. It's the devil that makes us think that we lose when we wait on God—that we don't have a choice. But with God nothing is impossible. We think there is only one way to make things go right, but he has a thousand ways to work out our situation that we haven't even thought of yet. But when we sacrifice doing what we know we should, to try and protect what we have, it just hurts us in the end.”

Cymmone nodded. “You're right. I guess I am just afraid of losing what I have, and I don't know how to trust God to work things out for me. It's hard, girl.”

“Don't I know,” JJ said. “It's hard to let go of what we think we have in our hands for what we don't know. But based on what I'm seeing, holding on to what you thought you had, this deception about your son you've created to keep the peace, it's only been causing you more problems. Doesn't it kind of make sense to try it God's way?”

Cymmone smiled and wiped the moistness from her eyes. “It does.”

“What's all this crying about up in here?”

Deacon stomped through the patio doors, a giggling Xavier wedged under his arm like a sack of potatoes. JJ giggled and Cymmone couldn't help but smile also.

“Just some girl talk,” Cymmone said. “What you doin' with my baby?”

“Your baby?” He turned to one side as if to look around, swinging Xavier along with him. “What baby?”

He swung to the other side. Xavier shrieked, delirious with mirth.

“You mean this one?” Deacon asked, swinging the little boy into an upright position.

“Yes, that one,” Cymmone said. “You put that boy down before he throws up all his breakfast.”

Deacon tickled Xavier, who erupted in more laughter, then set the little boy down. Xavier collapsed on the floor, breathing heavily but grinning.

“Xavier, go get the stuff you made for your uncle. He's gonna be getting ready to leave soon.”

“But he just got here,” Xavier whined.

“Yeah, it's cool,” Deacon said, leaning back against the kitchen counter across from Cymmone and JJ. “I got time.”

“JJ told me about the press event you guys have in a couple hours,” Cymmone said. “You don't have time. I'm surprised your cell isn't already ringing off the hook.”

“I turned it off.”

“Deacon!”

“Look, I came to see my . . .” He stopped and glanced over at Xavier, who was watching them intently. “My nephew. I don't need any distractions. And I can cancel the event—”

“No, you can't.”

“It's my tour.”

“And this is my house and I'll kick you out if I want to.”

JJ looked away from the two of them as they stared each other down. It had become intense quickly. She could only imagine what it had been like when the two of them dated.

“Look,” Cymmone said, breaking first. “I know you were worried about Xavier, but he's fine now, so let's not make this a big deal. You being missing like this will just draw more attention than it needs to. Just come by later this week during your break. Okay?”

Deacon frowned, and for a moment he looked younger than the three-year-old on the floor.

“Okay, fine, I'll go.” He looked over at Xavier. “I'll be back tomorrow to check on you though, alright?”

 

An hour later, after they said their good-byes and Cymmone promised to think about what JJ had said, Deacon and JJ were on the road again. Almost as soon as they slid through the high metal gates, Deacon had slid back into his sour mood. JJ could tell he was upset about leaving his son. For Deacon, a few hours with Xavier weren't nearly enough.

“You miss spending time with him, don't you?” JJ said about halfway down the drive.

“I'm sure Cymmone filled you in about why things are the way they are,” Deacon deadpanned, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. “This is what's best for Xavier.”

“How about what's best for you?” JJ asked.

“What could be better for me?” Deacon asked dryly. “I get to live the celebrity life, sing for millions, make more money than I can spend, travel the world with no attachments. What more could a thirty-two-year-old single man ask for?”

The life he described sounded anything but good coming from Deacon's mouth. It might be what many thought they wanted, but it didn't seem to be satisfying him.

“I guess it goes without saying, but you can't tell anyone about any of this.”

“I know,” JJ said.

“Sabrina's gonna ask you.”

“I won't say anything.”

“She's gonna piece it together,” Deacon warned. “She's probably already gone to your room and figured out you weren't there all night. She'll check with everyone else, and before we step into that event she'll know that you were with me. And she'll think a lot of things. I don't care what you tell her, but . . .”

“She won't hear about this from me,” JJ said. “I promise.”

Deacon sighed and rubbed a hand over his face.

“She can make things really hard for you.”

JJ rolled her eyes. “I can handle Sabrina.”

 

A couple hours later, when she stepped into the rooftop photo shoot and press event for Deacon Hill and She-La, JJ had to admit that she was less sure than she had felt in the car with Deacon. JJ could feel the eyes on her. Everyone's eyes. Even though she had come on her own and Deacon hadn't even made an appearance yet, it felt like everyone knew what had happened the night before and was talking about it. When Diana yanked her into a corner, her fears were confirmed.

“Tell me it's not true,” she whispered as they stood near a corner of the Skyline Terrace of the Peachtree Club. “You were not out all night with Deacon.”

JJ closed her eyes, wishing that Diana had started with something other than a direct question. “You're my friend, Diana, and you know I would if I could, but I can't talk about this.”

Diana's eyes widened and she swore softly. “You were with him! JJ, what were you thinking?”

JJ rubbed her palms together nervously, scanning the rest of the event as she did. Almost everyone was here, including the entire band, Kate, Andrew, and Deacon Hill's press team. Atlanta's top radio station, V-103, was already set up with the DJ spinning hits and broadcasting live for the special-format show. If everything went according to plan, Deacon Hill and She-La would take over Atlanta, their pictures on bus shelters, their faces all over the local magazines and blogs, their hits on everyone's Top 40 list. That is, if Deacon ever showed up. He was usually fashionably late to events, but this was bordering on rude.

“What time is this whole thing supposed to wrap up, anyway?” JJ asked, sidestepping Diana's question. “I have to be at the airport by three.”

“Hmm,” Diana said, pursing her lips. “Act like you don't hear me. But you better not try that when Sabrina backs you into a corner, and you know she's coming.”