What do I do now, Chelse?
You go after what you lost…even if you have to crawl through the mud to do it.
Since I felt like I’d been wallowing in mud ever since Anna left, crawling through it sounded easy.
I smiled at Kiera in appreciation, then gave her a small nod so she would know I understood what she was saying. “Thank you. Thank you for coming all the way down here to check on me and to tell me that. You don’t know how much I appreciate it.” Kindness and compassion of any sort was a rare commodity, something to be cherished. I understood that now.
As she looked me over, her expression turned sad. I must sound really pathetic, like a completely different person. I supposed I was. In a soft, compassionate voice, she said, “I’m sure you and Anna can fix this. She’s crazy about you.”
And I’m crazy about her. “I hope so,” I told her, looking away. Something occurred to me, and I returned my eyes to her. “Do the guys know you’re here? Telling me this?” Did they want me to audition?
Kiera shrugged. “Kellan knows. He’s the one who booked my ticket.” She winked, then she sighed. “I don’t think he’s telling the others though. He doesn’t want to put any pressure on you.”
I nodded. That was nice of him. Not surprising…Kellan was a good guy. “Thanks. Does…does Anna know you’re here?”
Kiera paused, then shook her head. “No. I didn’t tell her. She’s living on her own now, did you know that?” When I shook my head, she sighed. “Yeah, she got an apartment for her and the girls, and she got her old job back at Hooters. I told her she could stay with us for as long as she needed, but she wants to make it on her own. She’s stubborn like that.” She laughed.
I smiled. “Yeah…we have that in common.”
The waitress arrived with Kiera’s food, and she grinned as she looked down at her bacon and eggs. She was a couple of forkfuls into it before the waitress even left. Her appetite made me grin, even though it painfully reminded me of Anna’s pregnancy cravings.
“Hey, Kiera,” I said, swirling a spoon in my untouched coffee. When she looked up at me, I cringed. “Please don’t tell Anna about this.” I indicated my dirty, scrubby, beat-up look. Kiera seemed about to protest, but I cut her off. “I’m serious. I don’t want her worrying about me.”
Kiera thought about that for a minute, then nodded. To ease her mind, I added, “I’m gonna be fine, Kiera, no need to worry.” And for the first time in a long time, I actually believed that.
Chapter 23
What to Do?
When Kiera and I got back home, I offered her my bedroom for the night. With lips curled in distaste, she started to say no, but then she looked around my room with wide, disbelieving eyes. Almost instantly, they started to water, and it wasn’t long before she was wiping tears off her cheeks. I didn’t comment on it, but I was pretty sure I knew why she was starting to get so emotional. Being here kind of did that to me too.
Some time ago, I’d turned the room into a shrine of my family. I’d ransacked the house for every photo Mom had of Anna and the girls. She had quite a few, and now every wall was covered in four-by-six glossies of the moments in time Mom had captured. There were some of Anna and me before the kids, when we’d visited my parents while I’d been in L.A. recording the band’s very first album. That was the first time Anna and my parents had officially met, although they had already known about her, since I had talked about her all the damn time. Anna had been pregnant with Gibson in those photos, and there was such an aura of contentment around her that she almost glowed in every shot. Damn. My wife was so fucking beautiful.
There were pictures from the party my parents had had for us after we’d eloped. Gibson was a tiny little thing in those shots. Anna was in a fancy dress; she looked like a princess. A sultry, seductive, smoking-hot princess. There was one of Anna looking down at Gibson on her lap that choked me up every time I looked at it. I tried to avoid staring at that one for too long.
Pictures of the three of us from summer barbeques, both here and at my place in Seattle, dotted the wall, along with images from Christmas and Thanksgiving holidays, and the occasional birthday party. Then the visual timeline progressed to photos of Anna holding Gibson’s hand while she was pregnant with Onnika. If she glowed while being pregnant with Gibson, then she radiated while being pregnant with Onnie. There were photos of right after Onnika was born, when Anna was happy on life and feeling no pain. Then there were pictures of the baptism, moments I hadn’t really noticed while they were happening—Anna laughing with her sister, Dad twirling Gibson, and Mom cuddling Onnika. And then some breathtaking shots of the ceremony itself. I’d been so focused on other crap that I’d practically missed the entire thing. That was time I couldn’t get back, memories I couldn’t re-create. That fact really ticked me off. How could I have been so stupid?
Melancholy came over me as Kiera’s wide eyes took in my room. Aside from the massive assortment of photos, I’d tacked up every memento and keepsake I could find—Gibson’s favorite candy bar, a wrapper from a wine Anna loved, one of Onnika’s rattles…one of Anna’s bras. My room was one gigantic fucking scrapbook. I wasn’t sure if that was sweet, psychotic, or pathetic. Maybe it was a mixture of all three.
Like she was seeing a different side of me, Kiera looked my way and consented to staying in my room. Clearing my throat, I shrugged, nodded, and acted like everything she’d just seen in my room was no big deal. It was weird, but after Kiera closed the door, I wanted to take my offer back. I wanted my bedroom back. I’d grown used to being surrounded by my wife and kids every night. They were my support system, even when they weren’t anywhere near me, and even in this weird way, it was painful to be apart.