Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > DAYS WEEKS MONTHS
2. FOUR YEARS LATER
Have you ever had that feeling in your head that you’ve just been hit by a train?
That feeling of you head pounding so bad that the person next to you might think that there’s a stereo in the next room with the bass turned up high?
Well, in my case, the train is metaphorical. I think.
I couldn’t remember any train but I could remember flashy sports cars and intense subs in the back, blasting their music around the city.
But then there was the Vox speakers hooked up to the stereo and music was being played into the stereo from someone’s computer.
It took all of my will power to open my eyes.
Oliver would be awake soon and I would need to be at the café not long after.
I groaned.
It took amazing physical effort to pull my body upright.
My head was swimming. I looked over to check the time, but my alarm clock wasn’t there. Infact nothing I owned was here; except for my jeans which hung on the back of the door knob.
This room wasn’t mine!
The amazing view out of the window over the LA wasn’t mine!
And this bed! This strange bed with the outstretched and snoring occupant sure as hell wasn’t mine either!
As fast as my hung-over metabolism would allow me to do what I had to do, I leapt from out of the bed, untangling myself ungraciously from the black satin sheets and flopped onto the floor.
He sighed.
I sat u quickly and alarmed to see his face turn to face me, his eyes still closed delicately and his lips slightly parted, At least the snoring had stopped.
I tried not to wake my sleeping partner while I hunted the room for my outfit from last night.
Did that shoe look like mine?
It fitted so I too it, but I couldn’t find its other. My search lead me, half dressed, out the bedroom door and into a spacious open plan living room.
There was trash everywhere amongst empty and half-empty bottles, upturned furniture and scattered parts of outfits like scarves and hair accessories and miraculously, my second black pump!
I moved so quick that it caused a feeling that almost made me sick.
I fell over trying to get my shoe on, laughter redirected my attention.
“Still a bit woozy aye Trix?” His pointed face cracked into a smile that lit up his eyes.
I shrugged, “Still not over the coke addiction, Gerard?” I said, noticing the credit cards and white rows lined out on the table in front of him.
I spotted my blouse on the bookshelf by the door that I had just come from.
A second more eccentric voice spoke up, “hey! It’s only an addiction if it’s bad for you! For us, it’s more like a hobby.” The top of his tousled black head peaked out over the brim of the table, his huge almond eyes almost popping out of his face.
“Seems to me like you might have one too many ‘hobbies’ then Gabriele.” I replied.
He rolled his eyes and took a seat next to Gerard.
“Care to join us before you steal away?” Gerard offered.
“No thanks,” I refused politely. “It’s a tad early for me.”
Gabe sighed disappointedly.
“Golly Trix, you are always more fun when you are trashed.”
I finished buttoning my shirt, I had seen the clock on the wall and dreaded the bill that my neighbor, Shelly, would ask for when I got home.
Next time, I would just ask Pete to baby-sit.
“I’ll try not to make a hobby of it then.”
I spied my handbag on top of the fridge where I remembered leaving it. Once I was fully dressed, hand bag and all I headed toward the door, ready to make my escape. But when I turned to wave off Gerard and Gabriele, I froze.
Nearly six foot tall, he stopped out from under the door frame of the bedroom, the same bedroom that I had come from.
I am never drinking again.
I made the mental note and filed it beside ‘go to film school’ and ‘move into bigger apartment’ in my head.
His longish brown hair framed his angelic face.
He squinted against the morning light that was seeping through the blinds.
“OOOOOHHHH! Snapped!” Gabe teased from his seat.
“Where are you going Miss Swan?” William asked looking slightly confused, looking from me to Gabe and back.
“Well Mr. Beckett. I have a boss waiting and she is probably wondering where the hell I am.”
“you were going to leave without saying goodbye?” His voice was hurt.
“Cruel child…so cruel.” Gabe shook his head in mock disappointment.
I threw a can from the nearest coffee table at him.
He just laughed.
I turned back to William and chewed my lip.
“I’m sorry, but I really need to go William.”
I turned again toward the door, my previous intention of a wave long forgotten.
I headed towards the elevator. I stepped in and waved my finger over the buttons looking for G.
Just as I was about to press it my name was called at me from down the hallway.
So instead I pressed the button to open the doors.
William stood on the other side.
“Please wait?” He begged quietly.
I closed my heavy eyes and sighed, resting the side of my head on the wall of the elevator.
What the hell is wrong with you? Anyone would give a lung to have William Beckett say “please wait” to them! For once in your life stop being so god damned selfish!
Why do we have to talk? Why can't we just pretend like there are no secrets, no complications?
And if you ever wonder why you haven’t spoken to anyone in your family since you were seventeen, repeat that statement back t yourself.
William was dressed in only track pants, but his apartment was the only one on this floor, so it wasn’t like he was exposing himself or anything.
”Why do you always try to leave before I wake up? What are you running from?”
I wondered how many times he had wondered over this question. At least his mind worked to make up for what mine lacked.
“Because I have to work, William, I have a job that I depend on to pay the rent.”
His expression softened, “I know and we’ve been through this. If you would just let me—“
“No. Please William; this is one of those things that I have to do on my own.”
“Not even half?”
“We’ve been through this William.” I pleaded. I didn’t need his money to help me into film school. I had to reject Pete on a monthly basis. It was bad enough that I needed him to help me with my rent every four weeks.
“I know. I know. I just wish that you wouldn’t make me feel like you regret our nights together.”
That should have been your line, you are so messed up.
He stood so vulnerable in the corridor. Since I sucked at apologizing (add it to the list) I moved into his arms and cuddled him.
I knew that I hurt him. I always cancelled when we had plans. Or I didn’t call him back when he left a message. Something with Ollie always came up and I couldn’t ever find time to reschedule. I felt bad for not telling William about Ollie.
But I knew that he would completely back off when he knew and I didn’t want to lose what weak strands that held us together, even though I made it seem like I didn’t care. I did.
“Do you really have to go?” His tone broke my heart.
I sighed and pressed my lips to his bare shoulder.
I promise I will make it up to you one day William.
“We’ll catch up later.” I said hoarsely, knowing that we wouldn’t. And I would barely even try.
This time, when I turned back into the elevator, I didn’t turn around. I pressed the ground floor button and waited for the doors to close behind me.
*
Twenty bucks for my taxi, three-fifty for my coffee downstairs and a hundred bucks to Shelly when I picked my son up at 10.17am—Excruciatingly early for someone with a hangover.
As soon as I transferred my handbag and Ollie’s overnight bag to the sofa, I picked up the phone and called in sick to work.
Catherine was really sympathetic over the phone, I felt guilty for feeling like crap when she wished me a “good day, hope you feel better soon, God bless.”
I sought Ollie’s coloring book and crayons. As soon as he was set, I relaxed on the sofa with TV’s sound on mute.
I looked around my apartment. It was a bit nicer than what your average single mother would be able to afford on six hundred dollars a week.
It was tiny, two-bedroom one bathroom and a kind of cut off laundry next to the bathroom. The kitchen/ dining room/ lounge room was all one big open space.
All of my furniture was hand-me-down. My chairs couches rugs and tables were all from friends (mainly Pete). Other than my furniture everything else was shabby and old, especially the carpet, but I couldn’t complain.
The sofa was an ancient denim three-seat that Pete had stored in his basement from eons ago. It was torn in several places when I got it but those are all patched up now-compliments of me.
The TV was almost modern. When Pete and Ashlee moved into their house they found it in the basement. Ashlee thought that Pete had thrown it out.
I watched Ollie coloring. Bronx had shown him to outline the picture then color the inside. Ollie needed a bit more practice though. Pete had taught Bronx that.
Oliver Robbie W. Swan
Four years, seven months, three weeks old, and counting.
He had pitch-black corkscrew curls that almost reached his shoulders, he inherited his olive complexion from his father, and Pete swore that his big baby blues were mine.
I had one of the biggest secrets sine the 9/11 conspiracy and I had been keeping it for four years, seven months, three weeks and counting.
I tried not to dwell on the past, but my heart bled when I thought about the fact that I hadn’t spoken or seen anything of my family back home in New Zealand, for, well, that’s right, you guessed it—four years, seven months, three weeks and counting.
I tried to keep my eyes open but they were just too heavy.
I drifted in and out of sleep a couple of times, but I knew that I couldn’t sleep and leave Ollie unattended.
It was the answer to my silent prayers; I heard keys in my door.
My eyes were slowly opening wider to see my sons face light up with joy.
He discarded the fat red crayon and dashed to the barely opened door.
“Petey! Petey!” he chanted.
‘Petey’ was obviously surprised to see both Ollie and I home on a Saturday morning, the perfect time to try and sneak some more food into my nearly empty cupboards.
“Hey Champ!” Ollie was picked up and tucked under Pete’s arm like a news paper. He tossed some magazines in my lap.
“I didn’t know you were coming to see us today Peter Pan!”
Pete laughed and flipped him up so that Ollie was almost hanging off his neck.
“Neither did I until you ambushed me through the door Oliver Twist!”
Ollie giggled adorably and hugged Pete around the neck tightly.
I caught Pete’s eye over Ollie’s shoulder.
We both felt the same thing at the same time.
Heartache
Pete couldn’t be the father that he wanted to be. I couldn’t have the family that I needed for my son. None of the people that I had met in almost the last five years knew any truth about me and my life.
Pete was a friend who adored my little boy, that’s all they knew.
It was hard for him to go home at night and be able to tuck his son into bed and hear him call him as ‘Dad’.
With Olli it was different. Ollie called Pete cute names like Peter Pan and Peter Rabbit. He had no idea what it was like to be able to acknowledge his father as that—his father!
Pete loved having Ollie and Bronx play together whether it was here or at his house. Having the boys together was the best feeling for both of us. Ollie didn’t even know it, but he had a whole family.
I wanted so bad to tell Ollie, and to slap Ashlee, but I knew that I couldn’t. I promised that even if it was only for his careers sake, I wouldn’t breathe a word. There were no conditions when I move to the states. Just promises.
Pete wanted it too, but it wasn’t worth the trouble that it would cause. I was seventeen, not jail-bait but enough to lose Pete and his band their reputation and their record label. They would lose their friends and colleagues so we decided that it would have to be enough to be close to Ollie rather than ruin everything.
Pete closed his eyes and hugged Ollie back, then carried him over and took a seat on the couch next to me, Ollie clambering around us like a mountain goat.
“Why aren’t you at work Tinkerbelle?” Pete asked while Ollie settled into his lap.
“Do you honestly have to ask?” I mumbled groggily, glancing at the cover of each magazine before I threw it onto a pile on the glass coffee table, then weaving my feet around Ollie onto his lap.
This is the way it’s supposed to be—us three together, comfortably.
It had never been awkward with Pete. Form puking in a toilet to the letter, then there was meeting u at the airport. It had always been ‘this is how it is’. And that’s how it was. How it always will be.
We must have been thinking along the same lines again. I stared into his face.
I wanted to say “sorry for ruining your life Pete,” but it just didn’t seem like he cared much. I suppose that was how he lived,
We can't change shit so don’t complain.
He smiled lightly and looked away from me and stared adoringly at Ollie who was playing with his fingers.
“Rough party?” he rose his eyebrows with the question, I don’t know if he was completely with the topic.
I shrugged, “if I could remember half of it I might be able to tell you, but I do know that after partying with Suporta, I have a tendency to wake up next to William Beckett.”
I almost would have heard his brain click into place if I hadn’t had a huge yawn at that exact second; here I was thinking that he was off in dream land.
“William Beckett?” he asked in surprise, frowning at the same time.
“The one and only,” I said sarcastically, shifting my weight to get more comfortable.
Pete was silent for a while; Ollie was playing ‘Johnny Woop’ on his left hand. When he came to the fourth finger with the gold band on it, he twisted it up and down on his finger.
“He must have been looking out for you. Remind me to thank him.”
I must have looked shocked or something similar, because his puzzled look disappeared with a smile and a shrug.
“I’m serious, I mean sure Gabe’s a good friend and all, but his parties are well known to get out of hand.”
Protective much?
I just nodded.
Whatever helps you sleep at night?
I had never quite figured out how Pete felt about me. For all I honestly knew, he could hate me beyond anything, or he could consider me as precious to his as Ollie was. It was hard to tell, unlike when he was playing with the boys. It was completely obvious that he would give anything for them to be happy.
It was a strange situation that we were in—him being married and everything.
We both knew that Ashlee hated me from the beginning; she thought I was trying to steal him away from her. She thought that I wanted to take her place in that house, in that bed.
But how wrong she was, if she knew the arguments that Pete and I had since I had got here maybe he would think different of me, or maybe not.
Her hatred toward me didn’t stop Pete from visiting. Three or more times a week he tried to come and see Ollie, he looked after him some days and took him to the studio with him when he was taking Bronx.
I rested my throbbing head on the back of the couch,
I will never again drink that much.
I sighed; my mother had always warned me against wanting to grow up too fast. Maybe I should have listened to her before I left; I should have taken a step back and had a good look at the bigger picture. I put both of my parents in a position where they had to choose between me and the barely stable structure of the rest of our family.
I couldn’t blame them for making the choice that they did, but then again, I haven’t caused them any more trouble since I had left. I don’t think they believed me when I said I was leaving and wasn’t coming back.
“Hey Pete? Will you watch ‘Nightmare before Christmas’ with me please?” I smiled because I had raised such a polite little boy.
Pete looked at me and asked without saying anything if I cared.
I smiled,”Go for it.”
Ollie jumped down from Pete’s lap and ran into his room where he had a box of all of his favorite books and movies.
“What brings you out to this side of LA besides reverse robbery today?” I joked at him.
He shook his head in mock disappointment at my lame joke. “I’m staying out of the line of fire.” He said regrettably, “right now that house is what I like to call ‘the red zone.’”
I nodded understandingly, silently inviting him to confide in me. After all, it was probably my fault.
It was like someone flicked a switch in his head.
“I don’t even know what her fucking problem is!” He threw his hand up in exasperation, “I’m home every fucking night—early! I’m cleaning, I’m cooking—”
“You’re cooking?”
He ignored me.
“—I look after Bronx almost every fucking night so that she can go out and do whatever the fuck she wants. I have been basically reviewing everything that I learned in the third grade since I’ve been helping Bronx with his homework. I don’t know if I can take this shit any more!” frowned darkly.
I patted his hand that was resting on the back of the couch. What could I say to something like that?
I decided on silence as my best answer.
But he wasn’t finished, “this morning,” he continued, “Bronx was playing with the Lego that you got him for Christmas, in the nursery, after a late night last night, she thought it was fine to yell at him, ‘The Res-Q team doesn’t need to be so loud when they’re saving people!’” he mocked he high pitched voice.
“What a bitch.” I muttered under my breath.
“Huh?”
I clasped my hand to my mouth, as much effort as it took, I tried not to insult Ashlee in front of Pete, because, in all honesty she was actually the nicest person that I have moved in with and didn’t know them, we just slowly lost contact after Ollie was born and I moved out, despite Pete inviting me to every Simpson-Wentz Christmas and Thanks Giving holiday.
“I don’t mind Trix. She does it to you.”
I shook my head, “that’s not the point is it? The point is that you two shouldn’t be arguing, I remember how you used to look at her Pete. I so badly wished for what you two had while I moped around your house the size of a bus. You love her Pete, don’t deny it.”
He smiled. He gently lifted my feet up then stood and replaced them back on the couch.
“Coffee?”
I nodded.
Ollie ran back that minute waving the DVD case in the air.
“I found it Mum!”
I smiled at the look on his face. When Ollie was happy it was the most beautiful thing in the world.
“Good boy. Now wait for Pete so he can put it on for you.”
“Kay!” he said excitedly and started packing his crayons away.
Pete eased the warm mug into my hands and I was instantly relaxed.
I sat up more so that I could drink my coffee without spilling it, Pete sat next to me and Ollie crawled up next to him.
I don’t think I even lasted through the opening sequence of the movie before I fell asleep. I could fell Pete reach over and pull my full mug from my hands, his musky male scent tingling my nose.
I instinctively snuggled into his shoulder and gave into the dreams.
Have you ever had that feeling in your head that you’ve just been hit by a train?
That feeling of you head pounding so bad that the person next to you might think that there’s a stereo in the next room with the bass turned up high?
Well, in my case, the train is metaphorical. I think.
I couldn’t remember any train but I could remember flashy sports cars and intense subs in the back, blasting their music around the city.
But then there was the Vox speakers hooked up to the stereo and music was being played into the stereo from someone’s computer.
It took all of my will power to open my eyes.
Oliver would be awake soon and I would need to be at the café not long after.
I groaned.
It took amazing physical effort to pull my body upright.
My head was swimming. I looked over to check the time, but my alarm clock wasn’t there. Infact nothing I owned was here; except for my jeans which hung on the back of the door knob.
This room wasn’t mine!
The amazing view out of the window over the LA wasn’t mine!
And this bed! This strange bed with the outstretched and snoring occupant sure as hell wasn’t mine either!
As fast as my hung-over metabolism would allow me to do what I had to do, I leapt from out of the bed, untangling myself ungraciously from the black satin sheets and flopped onto the floor.
He sighed.
I sat u quickly and alarmed to see his face turn to face me, his eyes still closed delicately and his lips slightly parted, At least the snoring had stopped.
I tried not to wake my sleeping partner while I hunted the room for my outfit from last night.
Did that shoe look like mine?
It fitted so I too it, but I couldn’t find its other. My search lead me, half dressed, out the bedroom door and into a spacious open plan living room.
There was trash everywhere amongst empty and half-empty bottles, upturned furniture and scattered parts of outfits like scarves and hair accessories and miraculously, my second black pump!
I moved so quick that it caused a feeling that almost made me sick.
I fell over trying to get my shoe on, laughter redirected my attention.
“Still a bit woozy aye Trix?” His pointed face cracked into a smile that lit up his eyes.
I shrugged, “Still not over the coke addiction, Gerard?” I said, noticing the credit cards and white rows lined out on the table in front of him.
I spotted my blouse on the bookshelf by the door that I had just come from.
A second more eccentric voice spoke up, “hey! It’s only an addiction if it’s bad for you! For us, it’s more like a hobby.” The top of his tousled black head peaked out over the brim of the table, his huge almond eyes almost popping out of his face.
“Seems to me like you might have one too many ‘hobbies’ then Gabriele.” I replied.
He rolled his eyes and took a seat next to Gerard.
“Care to join us before you steal away?” Gerard offered.
“No thanks,” I refused politely. “It’s a tad early for me.”
Gabe sighed disappointedly.
“Golly Trix, you are always more fun when you are trashed.”
I finished buttoning my shirt, I had seen the clock on the wall and dreaded the bill that my neighbor, Shelly, would ask for when I got home.
Next time, I would just ask Pete to baby-sit.
“I’ll try not to make a hobby of it then.”
I spied my handbag on top of the fridge where I remembered leaving it. Once I was fully dressed, hand bag and all I headed toward the door, ready to make my escape. But when I turned to wave off Gerard and Gabriele, I froze.
Nearly six foot tall, he stopped out from under the door frame of the bedroom, the same bedroom that I had come from.
I am never drinking again.
I made the mental note and filed it beside ‘go to film school’ and ‘move into bigger apartment’ in my head.
His longish brown hair framed his angelic face.
He squinted against the morning light that was seeping through the blinds.
“OOOOOHHHH! Snapped!” Gabe teased from his seat.
“Where are you going Miss Swan?” William asked looking slightly confused, looking from me to Gabe and back.
“Well Mr. Beckett. I have a boss waiting and she is probably wondering where the hell I am.”
“you were going to leave without saying goodbye?” His voice was hurt.
“Cruel child…so cruel.” Gabe shook his head in mock disappointment.
I threw a can from the nearest coffee table at him.
He just laughed.
I turned back to William and chewed my lip.
“I’m sorry, but I really need to go William.”
I turned again toward the door, my previous intention of a wave long forgotten.
I headed towards the elevator. I stepped in and waved my finger over the buttons looking for G.
Just as I was about to press it my name was called at me from down the hallway.
So instead I pressed the button to open the doors.
William stood on the other side.
“Please wait?” He begged quietly.
I closed my heavy eyes and sighed, resting the side of my head on the wall of the elevator.
What the hell is wrong with you? Anyone would give a lung to have William Beckett say “please wait” to them! For once in your life stop being so god damned selfish!
Why do we have to talk? Why can't we just pretend like there are no secrets, no complications?
And if you ever wonder why you haven’t spoken to anyone in your family since you were seventeen, repeat that statement back t yourself.
William was dressed in only track pants, but his apartment was the only one on this floor, so it wasn’t like he was exposing himself or anything.
”Why do you always try to leave before I wake up? What are you running from?”
I wondered how many times he had wondered over this question. At least his mind worked to make up for what mine lacked.
“Because I have to work, William, I have a job that I depend on to pay the rent.”
His expression softened, “I know and we’ve been through this. If you would just let me—“
“No. Please William; this is one of those things that I have to do on my own.”
“Not even half?”
“We’ve been through this William.” I pleaded. I didn’t need his money to help me into film school. I had to reject Pete on a monthly basis. It was bad enough that I needed him to help me with my rent every four weeks.
“I know. I know. I just wish that you wouldn’t make me feel like you regret our nights together.”
That should have been your line, you are so messed up.
He stood so vulnerable in the corridor. Since I sucked at apologizing (add it to the list) I moved into his arms and cuddled him.
I knew that I hurt him. I always cancelled when we had plans. Or I didn’t call him back when he left a message. Something with Ollie always came up and I couldn’t ever find time to reschedule. I felt bad for not telling William about Ollie.
But I knew that he would completely back off when he knew and I didn’t want to lose what weak strands that held us together, even though I made it seem like I didn’t care. I did.
“Do you really have to go?” His tone broke my heart.
I sighed and pressed my lips to his bare shoulder.
I promise I will make it up to you one day William.
“We’ll catch up later.” I said hoarsely, knowing that we wouldn’t. And I would barely even try.
This time, when I turned back into the elevator, I didn’t turn around. I pressed the ground floor button and waited for the doors to close behind me.
*
Twenty bucks for my taxi, three-fifty for my coffee downstairs and a hundred bucks to Shelly when I picked my son up at 10.17am—Excruciatingly early for someone with a hangover.
As soon as I transferred my handbag and Ollie’s overnight bag to the sofa, I picked up the phone and called in sick to work.
Catherine was really sympathetic over the phone, I felt guilty for feeling like crap when she wished me a “good day, hope you feel better soon, God bless.”
I sought Ollie’s coloring book and crayons. As soon as he was set, I relaxed on the sofa with TV’s sound on mute.
I looked around my apartment. It was a bit nicer than what your average single mother would be able to afford on six hundred dollars a week.
It was tiny, two-bedroom one bathroom and a kind of cut off laundry next to the bathroom. The kitchen/ dining room/ lounge room was all one big open space.
All of my furniture was hand-me-down. My chairs couches rugs and tables were all from friends (mainly Pete). Other than my furniture everything else was shabby and old, especially the carpet, but I couldn’t complain.
The sofa was an ancient denim three-seat that Pete had stored in his basement from eons ago. It was torn in several places when I got it but those are all patched up now-compliments of me.
The TV was almost modern. When Pete and Ashlee moved into their house they found it in the basement. Ashlee thought that Pete had thrown it out.
I watched Ollie coloring. Bronx had shown him to outline the picture then color the inside. Ollie needed a bit more practice though. Pete had taught Bronx that.
Oliver Robbie W. Swan
Four years, seven months, three weeks old, and counting.
He had pitch-black corkscrew curls that almost reached his shoulders, he inherited his olive complexion from his father, and Pete swore that his big baby blues were mine.
I had one of the biggest secrets sine the 9/11 conspiracy and I had been keeping it for four years, seven months, three weeks and counting.
I tried not to dwell on the past, but my heart bled when I thought about the fact that I hadn’t spoken or seen anything of my family back home in New Zealand, for, well, that’s right, you guessed it—four years, seven months, three weeks and counting.
I tried to keep my eyes open but they were just too heavy.
I drifted in and out of sleep a couple of times, but I knew that I couldn’t sleep and leave Ollie unattended.
It was the answer to my silent prayers; I heard keys in my door.
My eyes were slowly opening wider to see my sons face light up with joy.
He discarded the fat red crayon and dashed to the barely opened door.
“Petey! Petey!” he chanted.
‘Petey’ was obviously surprised to see both Ollie and I home on a Saturday morning, the perfect time to try and sneak some more food into my nearly empty cupboards.
“Hey Champ!” Ollie was picked up and tucked under Pete’s arm like a news paper. He tossed some magazines in my lap.
“I didn’t know you were coming to see us today Peter Pan!”
Pete laughed and flipped him up so that Ollie was almost hanging off his neck.
“Neither did I until you ambushed me through the door Oliver Twist!”
Ollie giggled adorably and hugged Pete around the neck tightly.
I caught Pete’s eye over Ollie’s shoulder.
We both felt the same thing at the same time.
Heartache
Pete couldn’t be the father that he wanted to be. I couldn’t have the family that I needed for my son. None of the people that I had met in almost the last five years knew any truth about me and my life.
Pete was a friend who adored my little boy, that’s all they knew.
It was hard for him to go home at night and be able to tuck his son into bed and hear him call him as ‘Dad’.
With Olli it was different. Ollie called Pete cute names like Peter Pan and Peter Rabbit. He had no idea what it was like to be able to acknowledge his father as that—his father!
Pete loved having Ollie and Bronx play together whether it was here or at his house. Having the boys together was the best feeling for both of us. Ollie didn’t even know it, but he had a whole family.
I wanted so bad to tell Ollie, and to slap Ashlee, but I knew that I couldn’t. I promised that even if it was only for his careers sake, I wouldn’t breathe a word. There were no conditions when I move to the states. Just promises.
Pete wanted it too, but it wasn’t worth the trouble that it would cause. I was seventeen, not jail-bait but enough to lose Pete and his band their reputation and their record label. They would lose their friends and colleagues so we decided that it would have to be enough to be close to Ollie rather than ruin everything.
Pete closed his eyes and hugged Ollie back, then carried him over and took a seat on the couch next to me, Ollie clambering around us like a mountain goat.
“Why aren’t you at work Tinkerbelle?” Pete asked while Ollie settled into his lap.
“Do you honestly have to ask?” I mumbled groggily, glancing at the cover of each magazine before I threw it onto a pile on the glass coffee table, then weaving my feet around Ollie onto his lap.
This is the way it’s supposed to be—us three together, comfortably.
It had never been awkward with Pete. Form puking in a toilet to the letter, then there was meeting u at the airport. It had always been ‘this is how it is’. And that’s how it was. How it always will be.
We must have been thinking along the same lines again. I stared into his face.
I wanted to say “sorry for ruining your life Pete,” but it just didn’t seem like he cared much. I suppose that was how he lived,
We can't change shit so don’t complain.
He smiled lightly and looked away from me and stared adoringly at Ollie who was playing with his fingers.
“Rough party?” he rose his eyebrows with the question, I don’t know if he was completely with the topic.
I shrugged, “if I could remember half of it I might be able to tell you, but I do know that after partying with Suporta, I have a tendency to wake up next to William Beckett.”
I almost would have heard his brain click into place if I hadn’t had a huge yawn at that exact second; here I was thinking that he was off in dream land.
“William Beckett?” he asked in surprise, frowning at the same time.
“The one and only,” I said sarcastically, shifting my weight to get more comfortable.
Pete was silent for a while; Ollie was playing ‘Johnny Woop’ on his left hand. When he came to the fourth finger with the gold band on it, he twisted it up and down on his finger.
“He must have been looking out for you. Remind me to thank him.”
I must have looked shocked or something similar, because his puzzled look disappeared with a smile and a shrug.
“I’m serious, I mean sure Gabe’s a good friend and all, but his parties are well known to get out of hand.”
Protective much?
I just nodded.
Whatever helps you sleep at night?
I had never quite figured out how Pete felt about me. For all I honestly knew, he could hate me beyond anything, or he could consider me as precious to his as Ollie was. It was hard to tell, unlike when he was playing with the boys. It was completely obvious that he would give anything for them to be happy.
It was a strange situation that we were in—him being married and everything.
We both knew that Ashlee hated me from the beginning; she thought I was trying to steal him away from her. She thought that I wanted to take her place in that house, in that bed.
But how wrong she was, if she knew the arguments that Pete and I had since I had got here maybe he would think different of me, or maybe not.
Her hatred toward me didn’t stop Pete from visiting. Three or more times a week he tried to come and see Ollie, he looked after him some days and took him to the studio with him when he was taking Bronx.
I rested my throbbing head on the back of the couch,
I will never again drink that much.
I sighed; my mother had always warned me against wanting to grow up too fast. Maybe I should have listened to her before I left; I should have taken a step back and had a good look at the bigger picture. I put both of my parents in a position where they had to choose between me and the barely stable structure of the rest of our family.
I couldn’t blame them for making the choice that they did, but then again, I haven’t caused them any more trouble since I had left. I don’t think they believed me when I said I was leaving and wasn’t coming back.
“Hey Pete? Will you watch ‘Nightmare before Christmas’ with me please?” I smiled because I had raised such a polite little boy.
Pete looked at me and asked without saying anything if I cared.
I smiled,”Go for it.”
Ollie jumped down from Pete’s lap and ran into his room where he had a box of all of his favorite books and movies.
“What brings you out to this side of LA besides reverse robbery today?” I joked at him.
He shook his head in mock disappointment at my lame joke. “I’m staying out of the line of fire.” He said regrettably, “right now that house is what I like to call ‘the red zone.’”
I nodded understandingly, silently inviting him to confide in me. After all, it was probably my fault.
It was like someone flicked a switch in his head.
“I don’t even know what her fucking problem is!” He threw his hand up in exasperation, “I’m home every fucking night—early! I’m cleaning, I’m cooking—”
“You’re cooking?”
He ignored me.
“—I look after Bronx almost every fucking night so that she can go out and do whatever the fuck she wants. I have been basically reviewing everything that I learned in the third grade since I’ve been helping Bronx with his homework. I don’t know if I can take this shit any more!” frowned darkly.
I patted his hand that was resting on the back of the couch. What could I say to something like that?
I decided on silence as my best answer.
But he wasn’t finished, “this morning,” he continued, “Bronx was playing with the Lego that you got him for Christmas, in the nursery, after a late night last night, she thought it was fine to yell at him, ‘The Res-Q team doesn’t need to be so loud when they’re saving people!’” he mocked he high pitched voice.
“What a bitch.” I muttered under my breath.
“Huh?”
I clasped my hand to my mouth, as much effort as it took, I tried not to insult Ashlee in front of Pete, because, in all honesty she was actually the nicest person that I have moved in with and didn’t know them, we just slowly lost contact after Ollie was born and I moved out, despite Pete inviting me to every Simpson-Wentz Christmas and Thanks Giving holiday.
“I don’t mind Trix. She does it to you.”
I shook my head, “that’s not the point is it? The point is that you two shouldn’t be arguing, I remember how you used to look at her Pete. I so badly wished for what you two had while I moped around your house the size of a bus. You love her Pete, don’t deny it.”
He smiled. He gently lifted my feet up then stood and replaced them back on the couch.
“Coffee?”
I nodded.
Ollie ran back that minute waving the DVD case in the air.
“I found it Mum!”
I smiled at the look on his face. When Ollie was happy it was the most beautiful thing in the world.
“Good boy. Now wait for Pete so he can put it on for you.”
“Kay!” he said excitedly and started packing his crayons away.
Pete eased the warm mug into my hands and I was instantly relaxed.
I sat up more so that I could drink my coffee without spilling it, Pete sat next to me and Ollie crawled up next to him.
I don’t think I even lasted through the opening sequence of the movie before I fell asleep. I could fell Pete reach over and pull my full mug from my hands, his musky male scent tingling my nose.
I instinctively snuggled into his shoulder and gave into the dreams.
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