Almost Ordinary (The Song Wreckers Book 2) (20 page)

The crowd’s attention refocused on the Song Wreckers. My attention switched to Gina. Thank God I could play without having to think much about it, because the interaction between her and her manager-boyfriend seemed borderline disturbing.

Caleb introduced himself, and Dex—the manager-boyfriend—rose, hostile sneer on his face. Lucky for him Caleb wasn’t a hot-head. Caleb put his hands up in the
I mean you no harm
pose. He pointed to me so I assume he explained he was the husband of the woman who’s been writing Gina’s music. Only then did Dex shake Caleb’s hand.

Once seated, Caleb gave me a look.
That was weird,
it said. I widened my eyes.
It sure in the hell was.

Dex proved himself overprotective, using his body to block anyone wanting to talk to Gina and having his face in any of her conversations, yet didn’t make much of an effort to hide his gawks at the body parts of other women he found pleasing. What a slime ball. Still, Gina would find out sooner or later and it’d be a learning experience for her.

For a while we didn’t bother taking a break. The requests came in fast and furious so we kept on playing. The nap I took earlier prevented exhaustion from wrecking my night. Instead of my usual cowboy boots I wore tennis shoes which kept my feet from screaming in pain. I was okay for a while.

Then, ooh! I saw Franny come through the door. She reached and grabbed someone’s hand still outside. A loud, “Woo-hoo!” stole my attention for a second, and when I noticed her again she inched along, hand in hand with Cooper. He limped due to a huge brace on his leg. At least he’d had the surgery. She sported a huge smile while his free hand furiously tapped his jeans.

Caleb came my way with a worried look. I tilted my head towards Franny and Cooper. Caleb followed my gaze. His eyes bugged out of his head.

Stay on stage so I didn’t have to face them, or tell the band I needed another break and run to Caleb? When the song ended, I fanned myself. My face flushed and sweat trickled down my neck. Katie saw me and announced, “Back in twenty, folks.”

I went to the rear of the stage to sit and slide off—my hopping off days were over—and waited in the hallway for Caleb. “OhmyGod, did you have any idea?” I asked him.

“None.” His eyebrows lifted to ask if we were going out with them. Okay, I could do this. I nodded and Caleb led me out, his hand on my lower back.

Dex, speaking for Gina, intercepted us on our way. “We’re leaving. I’m afraid for her in this crowd without proper security.”

The Song Wreckers always did incite a wild crowd. I put on my fake smile and hugged Gina goodbye. Whispering, “he’s a douche bag,” in her ear would’ve been rude so I rolled my eyes instead. “Have a safe drive to your mom’s. I’ll be in touch soon.”

Dex huffed. “We’re staying at the only four-star hotel around.”

Gina smiled at Dex, like,
isn’t he cute, he likes the finer things.
I waved as they left. Dex’s head darted right and left, right and left, as if the masses were about to pounce on them. Please, people paid more attention to the band than to Gina and Dex.

Franny and Cooper sat at Caleb’s table. The one thing more uncomfortable then standing in a crowded bar while pregnant next to my husband and across from the biological father to our boys, was doing those things with Franny there and trying to act normal. She had no idea the history we shared.

Once again I plastered on my fake smile. Awkward-ville, three tickets please. “Hey Franny, Cooper. What’s going on?” Easy-breezy, that was me. Caleb pulled out a chair for me so I could sit. “God, I love sitting. Sitting should be the national pastime.”
Stop babbling, Molly.
“Sitting’s where it’s at. Am I right?”

Franny cocked her head. “Molly, you know Cooper already, right?”

Yeah, more than she knew. “Of course.” I waved. “Hi, Cooper.”

He grunted.

My foot tapped while Caleb’s fingers drummed the table. Cooper sat stone-faced, giving away no emotion. He was
not
good enough for Franny. Cooper was the bad boy, not because of his dark hair and eyes and the hard edge he had about him. It was the vibe he radiated: fuck off. No one would ever accuse Cooper of being happy-go-lucky. He was the opposite of Caleb.

Franny looked at each one us, confusion setting in. Caleb blew out a noisy breath, muttered, “Fuck it,” then started talking about the weather. I squeezed his hand in thanks. I might’ve babbled on again, and nobody wanted to hear that. Someone at a table near ours talked sports, so we discussed the Tigers’ new line-up for the upcoming season. I nodded and agreed with everything that Caleb said. Yes, Tigers preseason looked good. Oh yeah, I couldn’t wait for opening day. Go baseball.

Having a mini-freak out kept my mind from obsessing about this being our last Song Wreckers show. It wasn’t until I stood on the stage after the break and Katie started telling a few stories that the tears started.

“And then, this one time,” Katie sniffled into her mic, “you see, Molly likes to fight, and—”

I snapped my head up to my mic. “I
do not
like to fight. It just happens!”

“This waitress at a bar we were playing at started screaming obscenities about flirting with her boyfriend. She comes back a minute later and, bam! Whacks her with a serving tray, right upside the head. So of
course
Mol was gonna kick her ass.”

I rolled my eyes and clarified. “First off, your hormones are affecting your memory. The chick screamed at you because
you
flirted with her boyfriend, not me. And that was like, ten years ago. Getting smacked with a tray was me, but it was on my thirtieth birthday and had nothing to do with the band.”

Caleb shouted, “That’s my girl!” Katie had told him stories of the bar fights I’ve been in over the years.

Someone else shouted a loud, “Woo-hoo!”

I smiled, proud of my ability to hold my own.

As the night came to an end the rest of the band told stories mixed in with songs too. The extra energy from my nap wore off and I couldn’t stop yawning. Katie must’ve been exhausted, still, we trooped on. We played our last song, packed up our equipment and hugged some fans. We promised to hold “band dinners” at least every couple of months, each one taking a turn to host a night we could spend time together. At twelve-thirty a.m. we said goodbye to our fans. Goodbye to The Song Wreckers.

I cried all the way home.

Chapter 25

I was no longer a Song Wrecker but guess what? Life went on. It didn’t slow down and give me time to pout. Life could be an asshole like that. I threw myself into Gina’s next album knowing that Crystal Records wanted Gina to start recording the new material in January, which meant I’d deliver my songs right after the New Year. Gina loved some of the Wreckers’ newer songs she’d heard, so with the band’s permission—and some money to sweeten the deal—I agreed to offer some of our songs to Crystal Records to throw into the mix.

Working out at this stage in my pregnancy was getting difficult. I had to moderate my strength training, and cardio tended to be power walks with the boys in the jogging stroller. Sometimes I forced Caleb to go with me. He needed it as a stress reliever, though he’d never admit a good power walk helped his frame of mind. He swore by sex and weight lifting. When the stress was so bad he wore it like chains wrapped around his chest, we played with the milder toys from Katie’s bachelorette party.

Despite Caleb working more hours than ever thanks to delays in renovations at the Tampa branch, we finished the baby’s bedroom. Since Katie took the rest of the school year off for maternity leave, she had the time to help me design the room. She decided on a theme of sage green and pink with zoo animals, told us what colors to paint, what to buy, then instructed Caleb where to place everything. We each did as we were commanded, except for dipping Alex and Zander’s hands in paint so they each had a handprint on the wall. She sighed, but didn’t insist we paint over them.

By the time summer began everything was under control and, thanks in part to Joy, running smoothly. My biggest complaint stemmed from being so pregnant in the summer was
hot
.

I’d decided to host a Fourth of July party. My due date was two weeks away, and I wanted something to focus on besides my physical discomfort. Dinner on the grill, kids running around the yard, doing our own fireworks, busting out our instruments and having a sing-a-long. Good old-fashioned backyard family fun.

The night before the party I sat in my van to go to the grocery store. I turned the key. Nothing, not even a click. I tried again. Nothing. The words “bad key” lit up on my dash.

“Caleb!” I yelled, pushing the door to the house open.

“In here,” he called from his office.

I explained the problem. Being a man, he had to try to start the van himself to make sure it wasn’t something stupid on my part, like not having the van in park. I mean, geez. You do it one time and never live it down. I sat at the kitchen table to await his verdict.

“I tried my key too. The electronic signals in our keys must be messed up. The dealerships are closed tomorrow for the holiday, so we’re going to have to wait to take it in.”

I moaned. “Great. I have a bunch of running around tomorrow for the party and you have to work. This party was a bad idea. What was I thinking?” I moaned. God, why did I think I could handle hosting a party? Even with help it was a huge undertaking. Planning was Katie’s forte, not mine.

Caleb gently lifted my legs and placed them on a chair. From behind, he massaged my shoulders. “It’s okay. You can drop me off at work tomorrow morning and pick me up at three. I can take a company vehicle if I need to go anywhere tomorrow during the day.”

I moaned again, this time because his hands felt so good on my neck and shoulders. “You rock.”

He’d learned a lot from the many massages I’ve given him. He hit all the right tension spots—down my spine, the base of my neck. His hands were large and strong, and he knew the exact amount of pressure to exert. My head fell onto his chest. I wanted to say, “thank you,” but all I could manage right then was, “Mmmm.”

His hands inched from the back of my shoulders to the front, then lower, down my shirt. Changing to a much lighter touch, he skimmed my breasts. It shouldn’t have felt good. I shouldn’t feel amorous. I was tired and afraid I was about to pop. God, Caleb always could make me feel like the most beautiful, sexy woman in the world. Even in the last month of pregnancy.

He stopped and rested his hands on my shoulders. I reached up and covered his hands with mine. “Caleb?”

“Yeah?”

I stood, the bulge in his track pants confirming what the look in his eyes told me. Walking away from him, I smiled and looked over my shoulder. “You coming?”

“Not yet, and only after you,” he said. I laughed then held out my hand. He grabbed it and led me upstairs.

The boys and I dropped Caleb off at work at six a.m. Ugh. At least the early wake time ensured the boys would take a nice, long nap later. They were in a good mood as I finished the shopping I couldn’t do last night.

I put the groceries away, and talked myself through the list of everything that needed to be cooked, baked, and mixed together. Crap, I forgot to buy disposable serving dishes.

“Come on, boys, let’s try this one more time.” I corralled them back into Caleb’s SUV.

I wedged myself into the driver’s seat. I backed out of the garage, stopped to press the button that closes the garage door, and felt a
whoosh.
I froze, thinking I peed myself. Then it hit me.

My water broke.

“OhmyGod,” I said, still frozen, letting the water flow all over the driver’s seat and myself. My brain said, “Get your ass up and do something proactive!” My mouth said, “OhmyGod, ohmyGod, ohmyGod,” for a long time.

I sat there for a few minutes. Maybe longer, I didn’t know. The boys started squealing and talking, vying for my attention. “Go, ma. Beep-beep.”

“Inside, guys.” I ignored the wetness and freed them from their car seats and rushed us into the house.

I called Caleb’s cell. It rang in my ear, but I also heard the song “Trashy Women” by Confederate Railroad play from the family room. I wandered around trying to pinpoint the source of the song. The couch. I stuck my hands in between the cushions and dug around until I felt his phone. The screen read “Princess” with my cell number underneath. Of all the days for him to forget his phone, it had to be today. I looked skyward.
Are you kidding me?

And, oh yeah, later he would pay for that song being my ringtone.

A hundred different thoughts zipped through my head, but I couldn’t focus on a single one.
Breathe and relax, Molly
.
In through the nose. Out through the mouth.
This baby’s not coming in the next ten minutes.

By the time I cleaned myself off and changed clothes, fed the boys, and packed my bag for the hospital—I had planned do it in the next couple of days, honest—my contractions were ten minutes apart and getting stronger.

I started dialing my dad’s number, then remembered he and Joy were over an hour away at a flea market, one of my dad’s new hobbies in retirement. Shit! I called Katie. No answer, the baby must be sleeping and her ringer on mute.

Damn it! I started to breathe heavily. I paced the kitchen a few times, chewing the hell out of my thumb nail. I checked on the boys playing with blocks and sat down through a contraction to take some deep breaths.

Think, Molly.

I called Caleb’s direct number at 3D—having programmed it into my new phone after Adam’s capture. No answer, so I called the main number that the receptionist answered. “Is Caleb in? I need Caleb. This is Molly.”

“Are you okay, dear?” she asked.

“Great. I need Caleb! Is he in? I tried the number that rings into his office directly but he didn’t answer. I need him!”

“Hold on.” There was a click, a pause, then a ring.

“Molly.” Cooper.

“I need Caleb, not you! Where the hell is Caleb?” I had difficulty breathing, and my eyes watered. Where was my husband?

“He’s meeting with a client up in in Bloomfield Hills. What’s wrong?”

I started crying. Bloomfield Hills was a good hour away if traffic hadn’t backed up. An hour and a half if it was. “My water broke, I’m in labor. Katie isn’t answering her phone, my dad is way out in no-man’s land, and Caleb forgot his phone and he’s way out too. I’m supposed to have a party later, not a baby. I don’t know what to do!”

“Okay, calm down.”

“I can’t calm down! I can’t drive to the hospital in this condition, not to mention the fact that my kids are with me.”
Breathe, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four.
“I’ll call Char. Or maybe Courtney. One of them has to be home. When do you expect Caleb?”

“Not for a couple hours. I’ll call the company he’s meeting with and contact him that way. Can you make it an hour?”

“I don’t know. My contractions are coming faster. Oh God, here’s another one.” I breathed through it. “The last one was just before I called.”

“Molly, listen to me. Sit down, I can hear you pacing.”

I sat. “I need two people, Cooper. One to drive me to the hospital, and one to watch the boys. Where am I gonna find two people?” Did I even know two people? Geez, of course I did.
Get a grip, Molly.

“I will have two people at your house as soon as possible.”

“I’m not leaving my kids with anyone!” Oh God, I was supposed to have another C-section but maybe I’ll end up giving birth at home instead. “I don’t want a home birth. Katie screamed bloody murder without an epidural. Wait. Send Franny! Is she there?”

“She’s here. We’ll be at your house soon.” He hung up.

We
? He said, “We.” As in Franny and him? I didn’t want him at my house. This was
not
the best day for him to see the boys for the first time.

Bracing my hands on my knees, I squeezed my eyes shut to stop the tears.
Freaking out will not help. Pull yourself together.

Thank God the boys didn’t need my attention right now because mind could only focus on the fact that Cooper was on his way over, and it scared me shitless. That, and my husband had no idea my labor had started.

I sat up straight and sucked in as much air as I could, then blew it out slowly. A few hand clenches later and I was about as calm as I could be given my situation. To kill time until Franny—and maybe Cooper—arrived, I changed the boys’ diapers, double checked my hospital bag, and paced circles through the house. Every four or five minutes a contraction nearly brought me to my knees.

The doorbell rang I don’t know how many minutes later. I opened it, and Franny and Cooper rushed in. I hugged Franny and started crying again. “Thank you for coming.”

“You’re welcome. Do you have everything you need?”

I nodded. “Everything’s in the family room.”

Waddling behind them, I noticed when Cooper slyly turned toward Alex and Zander but couldn’t read his expression.

Franny handed him my bag, and told me not to worry about the boys.

Cooper rushed me out of the house into his truck.

We rode in silence, with only my, “Shh, shh, shh, shhhhhhhh,” Lamaze breathing. My hand gripped the door and my eyes were shut tight. “Shh, shh, shh, shhhhhhhh.”

Cooper let out a noisy breath. “Shit.”

We stopped behind a long line of cars, all waiting for a train to pass.

Of course.

I resumed my Lamaze breathing, and tried not to panic.

“They look like you,” Cooper said.

“Shh, shh, shh, shhhhhhhh.” I shot him a fierce look. I was scared, in pain, and my temper was short. “This is not the mother fucking time for you to talk about those children,” I spat out. “Can’t this fucking train move any faster?”

“Molly, calm down. I’ll get you there in time.”

“You calm down!”

“I am calm.”

The evil eye I gave would’ve killed him if that were possible. “You are stuck in a vehicle with the woman you knocked up and left high and dry. I am in labor, about to give birth, maybe right here in your truck. How are you calm? You don’t deserve to be calm!”

Instead of answering, he said, “Here we go.” The short train had ended and traffic moved.

“Shh, shh, shh, shhhhhhhh,” I breathed the rest of the way.

With one hand on my lower back and the other gripping my arm, he led me into the hospital. “Leave,” I told him once we stopped at the registration desk.

He slapped his hands on his hips and shook his head. “Not until Ram gets here. He’ll kill me if you’re left alone.”

“I hope he kills you anyway.” I smiled sweetly at the woman about to take my information. “Here’s another contraction, hurry up please!”

The doctor held off on my C-section for a while in the hopes that Caleb would show. After ten or twenty or a hundred more contractions, he announced my C-section too dangerous to wait any longer. I cried when I thought I’d go through the surgery alone, then cried harder when I heard Caleb’s frantic voice rushing toward me.

Wearing scrubs, unshed tears in his eyes, he rushed to my side. “Guess that old wives’ tale about sex making you go into labor is true,” he said.

“Yeah, you ruined the Fourth of July party too,” I joked.

The doctor poked me with something sharp. I didn’t feel it, so he began delivering Vivian Ann Ramsey.

Katie and I thought it would be cool for both our daughters’ names have the letter V in them. Evelyn and Vivian sounded well together, which was important since they were going to be best friends.