Total pages in book: 196
Estimated words: 188002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 940(@200wpm)___ 752(@250wpm)___ 627(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 188002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 940(@200wpm)___ 752(@250wpm)___ 627(@300wpm)
Josh shoots up off the couch and takes the CD, my bag, and my keys out of my hands.
“What’s going on?” His hazel eyes search mine. “Were you in an accident?”
“No,” I sob. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine, Piper. You’re having some kind of freak-out.” He glances down at the CD and then looks back at me with skepticism. “Since when do you listen to grunge alternative rock?”
I kick off my shoes and fall into the big comfy recliner by the window. “I don’t,” I reply. “That’s his band. That’s him on the cover, the one with the longest hair.”
“Him who?”
“Lyric’s father,” I say softly.
His eyes widen and he brings the CD closer to his face to examine the front and back. “The homeless guy?”
One night about a year ago when I was feeling particularly overwhelmed and frustrated with my feelings for Blue, I broke down and told Josh the entire story. He immediately turned it into a drinking game and we took a shot every time I said ‘homeless’ and ‘but I really love him.’ We were both trashed by the end of the night.
“Yes, apparently he’s the lead singer.”
“Holy fuck.” He turns the CD over again. “You’re telling me Evan Von Bleu, singer and crazy fucking mad talented guitar god, is your baby daddy?”
I roll my eyes and rub my hand across my pounding forehead. “Please don’t say it like that.”
A grin spreads across his face. “I’ve heard their music, they play it at the gym. He’s got a voice like fucking smoky velvet. He’s hot too. I’d be tempted, homeless or not.”
“Josh, please!” I rip the CD out of his hands. “You’re not helping.”
“I’m trying to make you laugh. This is pretty messed up. It’s kind of kickass, too. Lyric’s dad isn’t homeless, he’s famous.”
That tweaks up my anxiety even more, because I hadn’t even thought of that part yet. My daughter’s father has the potential of being a celebrity, and if he’s in her life someday, that’s going to affect her.
“He’s not really well known, is he?” I ask. Up until today I hadn’t ever heard of his band, and I listen to the radio at work a lot. They could be a one-hit wonder sort of band and just fall off the face of the earth in a year.
“Piper, you’re holding a CD with his face on it. They’re getting tons of airplay. You can’t go near a music magazine without reading about his insane vocals and his crazy riffs.”
Damn. How did I not know all this? How did Blue get to this place in life without me realizing it long before today? And why, why, why hasn’t he come back for me?
“Josh, do you think it’s possible that it was all a lie? Do you think maybe he wasn’t really homeless, and maybe he never really loved me? What if it was just some….” My voice cracks and I struggle to find the right words. “Some kind of experiment to get song material? Maybe I was only a muse to him.”
His face softens. “Piper, come on. I seriously doubt it. That’s an awful lot of work just for creative research. The dude slept in a shed. And you’re a sweet girl. I don’t think someone could do something like that to you unless they were a supreme asshole with zero conscience.”
“But he left the dog...why would he leave Acorn with me?”
He shrugs. “Who knows? Probably because he knew he was too messed up to take care of him anymore. Or he assumed having him would comfort you. Do I think the dog was part of some big act? No. Stop thinking like this, Piper. This isn’t like you.”
How many times have I heard those words in the past few years? If this isn’t like me, what was I like? What am I like?
“I don’t know what to think.”
“Maybe there’s nothing to think. You met a messed-up guy living a messed-up life, you did some messed-up things, he left in a messed-up way, you had a kid, and somehow he ended up where he is now and you’re living in this messed-up situation with me and everyone seems pretty happy.”
God. It sounds all sorts of crazy when it’s spelled out. “It’s all messed up,” I say.
“Is it? Or is everything the way it’s supposed to be right now?”
“I don’t know, Josh. I need some closure, I think. You don’t understand, he just left. I didn’t get to say goodbye, I didn’t get to ask why. One minute we were having the best night of our lives and the next he was gone. Then he leaves me a note years later that makes me even more confused. And now this! I find out he’s a damn rock star? I need to talk to him. I need answers. And he needs to know he has a daughter.”