So much happens in this chapter. Leed and Ash grow much closer...and then circumstances pull them back from the edge of romance and intimacy. Then a crisis erupts!
The song is Picture by Kid Rock and Sheryl Crow...it's featured in the chapter. It's kind of a good song for Leed and Ashlynn's past...both of them living hard and making alot of mistakes in recent years, but hanging on to their one good memory of their first meeting...
Leed
Ash and I give over the rest of the day to Ollie.
It's kinda crazy how the tour last year was the most unfun I ever had, and now I have a whole new definition of fun. But Ash and I, kickin it with my kid? The best kind of fun.
While he was fresh from his nap, we took him down to the yoga studio and Ash stretched out his little limbs that had been cramped in the car seat. She laid him over her legs for a little tummy time, and he squawked and protested but eventually babbled happily when I did a headstand in front of him and talked to him face-to-upside-down-face. Then Ash sat him up and tipped him back and forth. "Builds his core strength so he can sit up easily," she tells me. She does a few more very simple manipulations of his bodyâfrogging his legs to stretch his hips, pulling him to his feet, making him bear weight, but all her moves with him are graceful and fluid, just like a real yoga practice. Then she rolls back and draws her knees up, settling Ollie on her legs in more tummy time, supporting his head until he rises up a little on his own, in baby cobra.
We laugh at his first independent yoga pose.
"He's a natural, like his daddy," she teases.
"How do you know all this baby yoga stuff?" I ask her, as I take Ollie from her and put him in his bouncy seat, so we can move a little. We face each other, and I pull her into a forward stretch.
"Oh, I've been going to mom and baby yoga classes at Gabe's place. I'm going to start teaching the class next month." She flips her hands around on my wrist, pulling me, reversing the stretch.
"That's awesome. You're doing it babe." I murmur, as we plant our feet, using each other's weight to bring us each to our feet. "Although I'm not sure how I feel about you spending time with Gabe," I murmur.
Her lips press together. I snort. "Spill it, Sunshine."
"What?" she says defensively, as I turn her and take her hands behind her back, and she bows out, expanding her chest.
I twirl her around, and pluck her lips like a duck bill. "I already told you, your poker face is terrible. Those pretty little lips tighten up when you are holding something back."
She stands in front of me and crosses her arms, as I take her hips and spot her for her preliminary backbend stretches. After three bends, she looks me in the eye. "Well, Gabe wants me to be a demonstrator for his new acroyoga class. He thinks the models being too accomplished might be intimidating for the students. He wants two advanced yogis with no acro experience."
"Mmmmmmmm," I pretend to grumble. "So you are gonna let some yogi at Gabe's studio put his hands all over you? I thought we were working up to exclusive here, baby. Not sure how to feel about that." I grip her hips tightly and squeeze. She blushes and presses her lips again.
It's all I can do to keep a straight face, but it's kind of fun to see her squirm. Just a little.
"He said I could choose a partner I'm comfortable with," she says shyly.
"Yeah?" I prompt, swaying her by the hips. She takes a deep breath and crosses her arms again, and dives into her back bend. After she's stable, she asks me to step back. She kicks over into a handstand, then splits her legs with her knees bent.
"Beautiful, Ash," I murmur. Damn, she's getting so good, so quick. It took me a couple of years to get to her level, and I've always been very physical. Stepmother number one was a gymnastics teacher. Then again, I didn't work with Ravi like a job, either.
Ollie is smiling. I know his vision is still blurry and he can't really see Ash clearly at the distance she is, but something about her graceful movements is catching his attention.
I drop down beside him, lean into his ear as I put my hand in front of him to grasp. "You like the way Ash moves? Me too, Ollie. Me too."
I see Ash smile upside down. She folds down, drops to hands and knees, and crawls to us.
She bounces Ollie's feet. "You think it's funny when we are upside down, don't you? Don't you, Ollie-Lolly-Pop?You are an Ollie-Pop, because you are so sweet...aren't you?" She's making a funny voice as she kisses his feet, and he laughs.
My heart skips. It's the first time. Ashlynn's face lights up and she glances at me.
"His first laugh," I tell her. "Do it again," I command, eager to see if he will laugh again. She repeats her silly tone and the butterfly kisses on his feet and his sweet grin erupts in bubbles as he chortles.
"Holy fuck," I laugh. "Did you hear him?"
"Adorable," she agrees.
We spend the next fifteen minutes making every silly noise and face we can to get Ollie to laugh. He does, and I take a lot of video with my phone, but eventually he gets bored with our excesses and decides the dappled sunlight on the studio floor is more interesting than us.
I wrap my legs around Ashlynn from the back and pull her to me. "Thank you. I'll remember that forever. You, me, and Ollie laughing."
"It was...an amazing moment," she agrees, relaxing into my chest, draping her arms over mine. We watch Ollie, quietly staring at the patterns of light and dark on the floor. I think Ash and I are doing the same thingâsolidifying the moment in our minds and hearts.
Finally, when the feels over Ollie's milestone have climaxed and waned, I bring my head beside hers, and whisper in her ear. "Wasn't there something you wanted to ask me, Sunshine?"
"Oh. Yes. Will you be my acroyoga partner for Gabe's class?" she asks shyly.
I grin behind her back. crossing my arms. I can't decide if I will tell her or not. Ravi didn't handle this quite like I suggested, but the man isn't like most. He doesn't just do what I tell him to. Finally, I decide to go with the truth.
"I would love to learn acro with you. In fact, I already asked Ravi if he would teach us, but he said Gabe enjoyed teaching acro and was starting up a new class and he'd recommend us to be Gabe's demo couple. I guess I was dragging my feet mentioning it to you, because, you know..." I roll my eyes. "Gabe. I have a feeling this was a Ravi set-up, to force me to get to know his Golden Boy that he likes so much better than me."
"Ravi does work in mysterious ways," Ash agrees. "I don't think he likes Gabe better, they just...share the same path. Honestly, I think you are his favorite student. He says...'Leed is a bright soul. No one feels the joy of his practice as much as the Lion.'"
"I'm not sure about that, but thank you for telling me that. Cause you know, my ego always needs boosting. It's so fragile..."
It's only a half-joke. I know I'm good-looking. I know I can sing. I know I've got that just-right charisma that make me an unforgettable performer. I know I exude sex. I know hundreds of thousands of women lust for me. I know dudes want to be me.
But I'm just like anybody else. I have moments of insecurity. Sometimes, I still feel like that soft kid with the bad skin and hair, on the first day of a school in a brand new privileged Atlanta suburb, trying to readjust from the strange-summer-life of my mom's hippie commune, dressed in the clothes that didn't feel like mine. The clothes my stepmother-of-the-day charged on a credit card because my dad spent fifteen years was always frontin' a life he couldn't afford. Until it all came crashing down and he and Mac ended up in a trailer park.
I felt guilty about leaving her behind there while I headed off to college, at the same time I felt grateful to escape that grim place I helped her Mac and Dad move into before I headed off to UGA. I was ashamed that I felt relieved to escape, but I was also ashamed that the life we had lived was a sham. Everything always an act, a performance. Which is why I'm so good at it, I guess.
I felt guilty about a lot of things, growing up. Guilty for my mom's depression and drug problems, like Mac and I caused them. Guilty for the tension that always eventually broke up my dad's new marriages, because Mac and I were always a handful. Me,reckless and no self-discipline at all, always in some skate park or on some parkour course, or experimenting with drugs at some party with a bunch of older kids. I hardly ever came through my dad's door when I wasn't either bleeding or high. Mac, rebellious as hell and doing everything she could to get make our stepmothers hate her so she could go back to the communeâat least before she and my mom had their big split.
So fuckin' guilty, always, but I never had the self-discipline to make any positive changes. I was so impulsive.
I still am sometimes, but things started to turn around for me in college. Being a theater major, I was all about creative and easy classes, because I spent so much time rehearsing for plays and set-building. I took this course on Eastern Philosophy, thinking it would be cake, but the teachings really resonated with me. I started to meditate and do yoga, and everything changed in my mind. I was able to let go of holding on so tight to my old insecurities and guilt. I learned to stay in the moment. I'd probably be dragging around just as much baggage as Trace, if it weren't for that class my sophomore year that taught me self-discipline and what most people spend years in therapy to learnâyour past can kill you if you let it, but your mind can free you.
For some reason, I find myself telling Ash all this. She processes it quietly for awhile and then she twists in my arms and stares me in the face, "You are...some kind of...angel sent to show me how to live, aren't you?"
I tuck her head under my chin, so I don't give in and kiss her. I've made it this far, and I want to wait until I first official date, cause I've got something special planned. "No one has ever called me an angel before. You might change your mind about that, when we start romancin' a little more," I tease her.
I love the way I can feel her smile, against my chest. We relax some more, our bodies gently getting to know each other. "You know, Leed, it makes me really nervous, the idea of being with youâlike that."
"I know." I say gently, rubbing her back. "You wanna tell me why? Or at least...tell me a little bit?"
She sighs, like she'd rather do anything else, but she forces words. "Well, I guess the easiest part to explain is about me and Cam..."
I close my eyes, not sure I want to hear about him. How he was her first everything. How she blossomed into a woman under his touch, and how no one has ever measured up to him, in the love department.
Ollie makes a funny little grunt, drawing our attention. Then he makes it apparent he needs a diaper change.
"I got it!" Ash says, jumping to her feet, looking surprising eager. To be honest, I'm a little relieved. I'm not sure I'm ready to find out I can never fill Cameron Martin's shoes.
I lay back on the floor laughing, "If you think I'm gonna fight you to change a shitty diaper, you are dead wrong, Sunshine."
"You are such a man," She steps on me intentionally, putting just enough pressure on my stomach to make me "oof" as she hops over me.
I lift up, and admire her gorgeous booty as she leans over Ollie. "All man," I assure her. "Don't forget it." I reach up and plant a hand on her ass.
I do it because I want to, but also for a more intentional reason. I know she's got issues. I'm trying to figure out what they are, in low key ways. I'm trying to move us closer to intimate touching.
She's got no problem with my hand on her ass, because she tosses me an eyeroll and a grin over her shoulder, but she presses into my grasp as she turns her attention back to Ollie. "I don't mind changing your diaper," Ash says to Ollie, "Because then I get to dress you up in the cute clothes your Aunt Mac bought you!"
I give her a light booty squeeze and roll away from her into a backwards somersault as she swoops up Ollie and beats up the stairs to the nursery.
I blend us some green smoothies for lunch while she plays with Ollie. Then we facetime Mac to show off Ollie in his chin-tip onesie. Madam is shooting the Rolling Stone cover today, and Tamara is there, overseeing Mac's styling even though she's no longer going to be doing hair and make-up for us. I have a moment's panic, wondering what will happen when Tamara finds out Ash is here with me.
Tam, Ben, and I did discuss me bringing Ollie to my house for the night, and Tam was surprisingly cool with it, but I steered clear of the whole Ashlynn issue. But if Tam has got a problem with Ash being around Ollie, maybe it would be better for her to think about her words carefully, with Mac and Adam as an audience.
Mac is in the chair in a random hotel room somewhere in Nashville getting makeup for the Rolling Stone cover. Tamara is no where around. Mac says she is down in the suite where the shoot will take place. The photographer is checking the lighting for the mostly nude shoot with some stand-ins, and Tam is scoping out the decor in the suite in order to finalize Madam's clothes for the interview portion, which will also be shot.
We spend about ten minutes on the phone with Mac and she splits her time cooing at the Cub, bickering with Ollie, and making Ash uncomfortable by joking about the sleeping arrangements for the night. When we hang up, I make a point to ask Ash which guest bedroom she prefers, so I can put her bag in there. She smiles demurely and chooses the small one near my room and the Ollie's, and not Mac's suite on the other side of the house.
We decide to take Ollie for a walk around the neighborhood. Ashlynn's goes to change her shoes to something more comfortable to walk in. I put him in the baby sling and carry him, because he likes that, but also because I haven't taken his stroller out of the box. When Ashlynn returns and finds me nestling Ollie in the baby sling, she stops dead in her tracks and looks me up and down. I'm nothing special right now...just dark jeans, and plain black t-shirt and Docs.
"You are like...the sexiest dad. It's totally not fair, how fucking cool you look wearing a baby." she sighs.
I laugh at her. She's so fucking adorable. The idea of actually having sex with me has her tied in knots, but seeing me with my kid has her salivating. I've never met a girl like her. My fangirls would much prefer to see me naked, not wearing Ollie.
On the walk, we go by Trace's house. He's out in his front yard, eating black licorice and shooting the shit with his landscaping guy. He shakes his head as we stroll down the sidewalk and comes to open the gate for us. "Fucking whipped by a two-month old," he says as he offers Ollie the licorice.
"Don't give him that! He's two months old!" Ashlynn's squeals and reaches to snatch it from Trace, but I fend her off, just to see what Ollie will do. Ollie immediately grabs it and gets it much closer to his eye than his mouth. "Woah, dude. Don't put pierce those peepers!" I wiggle it down to a nub in his grasp, and probably by accident he finally gets it in his mouth,immediately making a terrible face. He starts to fuss from the strong taste. Trace and I laugh, but I feel a little shitty as I gently pull it from his grasp.
"Sorry, Ollie, I bet that doesn't taste good, does it? It's okay, man. We'll wash it down. Ash...where's his pacifier?"
Ashlynn pulls his pacifier from her back pocket and works to get him to take it. "Rock stars are idiots, aren't they, Ollie-Pop?" Ash coos to him as she sways him back and forth and he finally takes the pacifier. It's very slightly vanilla scented, and it seems to do the trick to help him clear the bad taste. He sucks contendly, looking up at her intently as she smiles down at him.
Trace watches Ash with the baby and his devilish grin fades into grimness. He shoots me a look I can't quite read, but that if I had to guess, was some kind of warning for me not to let her get too attached to Ollie if I'm not in this for good.
Christ, how can I not fall for this girl? How can I not want her to love my kid? But how can I promise forever when we aren't even really together? More people split up than ever stay together, and Ash and are have hardly even begun.
Suddenly, I need to get away from Trace's objectionable stare. He's worse than her fucking dad.
"Here, let's keep movin', before Trace dips his pacifier in liquor," I say, taking Ash's hand as we say goodbye to the Bad-Ass Baby Corrupter. As we continue walking, most of our conversation is narrating the world to Ollieânaming all the the things we seeâtrees, cars, birds, a drag queen delivering a singing telegram, and several tiny dogs in strollers with owners attached to cell phones.
Talking to a baby that can't talk back is something I always thought was weird before I was a parent, but now seems absolutely natural. It's just...my job...to explain the world to my kid and teach him language.
When we get home, Ollie has fallen asleep, and I wear him while we watch the travel channel for a while. When he wakes, he's fussier than normal and although it should be time for him to eat, he refuses to take the bottle from Ash, instead, rooting restlessly against her chest, his cries becoming more indignant.
"Here, let me try," I suggest. "Maybe you he thinks you should give over the goods since you got 'em," I wink at her, gesturing to her beautiful bosom. She rolls her eyes but transfers Ollie to me as she goes to heat up the take-out for our dinner.
We never really eat it, because I can't get Ollie to take his bottle either. I try for ages, finally give up and just pacing the floor with him. I'm starting to wonder if that tiny taste of licorice soured his stomach or ruined his taste or something.
"I don't think so," Ash says as she takes my screaming, squirming son from me. "He's somewhere brand new, everything is different except you, and I think he just misses his momma." She changes him, moves him into all kinds of positions as she walks him around the house tirelessly, singing to him as he cries for more than an hour before he finally succumbs to a few sucks of breast milk and falls asleep on the bottle, exhausted.
"He's never cried that way before," I whisper as she settles him in his crib. I rake through my hair, surprised at how tense I feel as I watch him squirming, whimpering, and almost waking. As he settles, I sigh. I could use a good stiff drink, but that's just not an option. I don't really think Ash has an issue being around social drinking, but no way am I going to use alcohol to cope with problems around her.
I take her hand--which is becoming a real nice, comfortable thingâas we head to the kitchen. I put on a kettle for tea, but before we even get it steeped, Ollie is fussing over the monitor.
"Enjoy your tea," I tell her, turning off the monitor as I go to him.
I swaddle him like we did when he was new and prop him a little on his side with a rolled up blanket the way we sometimes do if he's a little fussy, patting his back for what seems like forever, and he finally drifts off again. This time, he does sleep, for awhile.
It's nicethe few hours aloneâAshlynn and I make a little music together. I don't have a professional studio because Trace's is right down the street, but I do have a music room with my instruments and some basic sound recording equipment hooked to a laptop for when I'm tinkering. Right now we're just goofing around. Ashlynn is a great fucking pianist, but she's never really been sure of herself with improv, so I we mostly play songs we both know without diving in too deep. She can play all the basic keyboard parts for Soundcrush songs, so we do a few of the softer ones, plus some Beatles, some Eagles. I know Ash likes the really old Southern Rock, so I pull out some Steve Miller Band on the guitar and we laugh and bluff our way through the lyrics of Take The Money and Run. Ash looks up the lyrics and we do a better job the second time. She does such a good job with harmonies I get serious about finding us a Southern Rock duet to sing that fits her modest, sultry voice.
Then I remember something I haven't told Ashlynn yetâand the perfect duet to precede the confession. I pull out my phone and pull up Picture by Kid Rock and Sheryl Crow on my subscription app. "You know this one?" I ask her.
She smiles and starts to sing along as she pieces out a simple chord accompaniment. We get really into it; we listen to the original song a couple of times so I can solidify the guitar. We probably play it a dozen times. When I know she's comfortable on her vocals, I turn on the mics and the flip on the audio interface to record to the laptop while Ashlynn protests.
"Nope, I'm not taking no for an answer Sunshine, we are doing this. Macaroni has thrown me over for a fucking preacher, so you gotta be my duet partner."
The song really is perfect for us in a way, and Ashlynn doesn't even know why, but I'll show her the picture after we record it.
Ironically, I'm the one that messes up the first take, flubbing a line, because I'm smiling at Ash during the harmony and not paying attention. We get the second one with no mistakes and real natural harmonies. Ash sounds way to good to me not to be in a spotlight somewhere. Both these Ballard girls sing pretty. Not quite with Mac's confidence and unique color, but they are good.
When we finish, I talk into the mic, still recording. "You know I heard Levine is leaving the Voice. What if I go on as a judge and bring you on as a ringer? We'll win for sure."
"That's a good plan, except for one thing..." she has a twinkle in her eye.
"Goddamn. You would throw me over for Shelton if he turned around for you, wouldn't you?" I tease her.
She shrugs a maybe, and I lunge at her, pulling her off the piano bench and onto the floor on top of me, then flipping over, tickling her, as she screeches and wriggles. I grab her hands and she lets me pin hers gently above her head. We're both breathing heavy, and it has nothing to do with the tickle battle.
There's a flash of something in her eyes that isn't good, as I rest on top of her. She doesn't like being this vulnerable. "Do you trust me?" I ask her softly, as I pull her right hand with mine, to the bottom of her shirt.
She nods, her clear gaze never leaving mine. I inch my fingers up beneath her shirt.
"I know you got scars, baby. You don't have to be ashamed. Show my fingers. Just one. I wanna learn them before I see you. That way, you won't feel like they are in our way."
She takes my hand, guides my fingers up her right side, climbing her ribs just below her bra. She circles my finger pad on a small raised patch. "Cigarette burn. Before Trace and I went to Vegas."
I want to demand a name, I want to promise vengeance, but that's not what this is about. This is about me and Ash, not some abusive motherfucker. I'll deal with him later, if his karma doesn't get him first. I circle the scar lightly for a moment, then I close my eyes and slide her shirt up, kissing the scar softly before pulling her shirt back down and rising off her, pulling her up into my arms, resting her back to my chest.
"Thank you for showing me. You wanna tell me more about it?"
"Well...it hurt," she says without any emotion.
I breathe out heavily. "I bet."
"But more than that...it shocked me. I couldn't believe...I couldn't believe anyone that seemed nice could...could turn so ugly so fast. I did something he didn't like and that was the...the first..." she takes a hitched breath. "the first lesson."
I try to keep my breathing even, realizing the feeling she's evoking in me is nothing to the fear and pain she has been through. I wait silently for her to say more, but that's all she wants to tell me.
I kiss her temple. "Thank you for telling me that. Can I tell you something?"
She nods.
"I know that I can be...a lot. Egotistical. Demanding. Aggressive, sometimes. I might try to get you to do things for me that I wantâlike wear pink for me next week at that art show. But I will never try to control you. Not like the animals that hurt you. Not with intimidation or fear or pain. I will always ask. You can always say no. And eventually...any control you yield to me will only bring pleasure, I promise."
"I know," she says but her voice is not nearly as sure as when she sang a few minutes ago.
"It's okay if you aren't sure of that, because you will be one day.I'll prove to you, I only want good between us."
She nods.
"I wanna show you something nice. I was saving it for our first date, but now seems good, too, because of the song..." I pull out my phone. I have to go onto my secure online photo storage for this, because it's from a long damn time ago. Five years ago. I finally find the photo I'm looking for and I turn the phone toward her.
"Oh my god. Where did you get this?" she whispers, taking the phone, spreading her fingers to zoom in. It's a photo of us, of the night we met. It must have been taken just after she glued my finger, at the moment when I was asking her to leave with me and have a drink, because I'm holding the painted, fancy bottle of tequila and dipping down to look into her eyes, looking extremely hopeful. She's smiling shyly at me, her head cocked like she's shaking it.
"Bodie took it. I've had it all this time. I fell for you, somewhere right before this picture was taken. I asked you to have a drink with me, and you said okay, but you shook your head no. I think that is this moment."
She makes a sound of embarrassment. "That's so me. Queen of mixed signals."
"Nah. You were a good girl with a boyfriend. It wasn't our time."
"We look...so young. So...carefree."
"We're still young. We're still free. Maybe we just care a lot more now," I whisper into her hair.
"I cared, then. You were bleeding and all I wanted was to be the one to make it stop. To fix you."
"You did, baby. You fixed me, and you broke me for any other girl. I put your picture away, just like in the song, but I never forgot you. Can't ever drink tequila without looking at this picture. Used to have it downloaded to my phone. I even tried to delete it one time, after you went to Vegas with Trace, but I was too fucking drunk to figure out how to delete it off the server. Now, I'm so goddamn glad I didn't. It's our first memory, and I want there to be a lot more, Ash. It's time to get our signals straight..."
She twists in my lap, her legs wrapping around me as my hands automatically go under her ass, lifting her up to my level. "Kiss me, okay? Make me feel...more."
"Wanted to wait to kiss you, Ash. Want to give you that first date magicâ"
"Fuck that," she grabs my t-shirt. "Kiss me and make the magic."
I growlâcant help it when she gets fierce and says fuck--I push my hands through her golden mass of curls and pull her face to mine. Our lips touch. Soft, reaching, curling, learning. The barest brush with her life breath enlightens me.
Fuck me, this is what it's all about. Touching beauty. Knowing truth. Feeling gratitude.
I'm reaching out to never let go when Ollie's cry bursts urgently through the monitor.
Ashlynn jerks back, but I growl again and hold on, pressing our foreheads together. "Incredible moment, paused. We'll get right back to this."
"Okay," she whispers.
Turns out, I was wrong. I head to Ollie's room and all thoughts of romancing Ashlynn flee before his frightening choking sounds. Something is wrong. He's hot and it's like he can't breathe.
I press my lips to his fevered forehead, pulling him from his crib, switching on the lamp. "It's okay, little man. It's okay."
"Ashlynn," I call automatically, my voice panicked. She appears at once.
"What's wrong?"
"I don't know."
She crosses the room, her arms demanding him. I'm loathe to give him up, my need to help him strong. She touches his back and then his forehead. "I think he has a fever. Do you have a thermometer?"
"I think. Sawyer was supposed to buy one."
"Please let me take him while you find it, okay?" Her voice is calm above his cries.
I ransack the dresser and find it among the supplies, still in its package. I rip into it. Ash already has Ollie on the changing table, frowning.
"His diaper is dry. He didn't eat at his last feeding..."
I check the time, "He's pretty much another feeding, too. Do you think he's dehydrated?"
"Maybe just a little. We'll try to get him to take some, as soon as we check his temperature."
Moments later, the thermometer is beeping frantically. Shit. That can't be good.
"One hundred one point seven," she says neutrally as she rewraps him and lifts him to her.
"Shit. What do you think is wrong with him? A cold? The flu?"
She paces, patting him. "Probably a cold or some other virus. He's probably fine. But Leed...I'm pretty sure in babies this small, any fever is supposed to be checked out immediately. Did you get instructions like that from his pediatrician?"
I rake my hands through my hair, trying to think back through all the appointments. "I dunno. Maybe. They said so much shit at the hospital...I dunno."
"Okay, so maybe you should call Tam-"
"No! Fuck no! She goes out of town and the first thing that happens is I freak her out over Ollie getting a cold? No fucking way!"
"Leed...I'm sure he's fine...but what if it's something? I think he needs to be checked out, and if I was his mother, I would want to know my baby is going to the ER..."
"Okay, okay, let's find out for sure what we should do," I pull out my phone. It's eleven here, but it's still early in Nashville. I search my contacts and punch a number I've never actually called, praying he put me in his contacts and won't just ignore an unknown number.
"Thomas, here" he says neutrally. I guess doctors have a tendency to answer their phones.
"Kade, it's Leed."
"Leed! Wow, it's been a while...I hear the Cub in the background. That's a helluva wail he's got. Everything okay?"
I haven't seen Kade since Labor Day last year, when he checked out my throat for crush injuries when Trace's punk brother suckerpunched me.
"Yeah, I know. Hope you're well. Listen, man, Ollie is why I'm calling. Just wanna run something by you."
"Sure, I'm on the floor tonight...so if I get paged I'll have to jet..."
"No problem, I'm gonna put you on speakerphone. I'm here with my friend Ashlynn. You haven't met her but she's Kat's sister. We're taking care of Ollie, his mom's in Nashville with Mac, and he just woke up with a fever. He's never been sick before, we're trying to decide if he needs to go the ER or if he just has a cold or something..."
"How old is he?"
"Ten weeks."
"What's the reading?"
"One-oh-one-point-seven," Ashlynn replies automatically.
Kade sighs. "You need to take him in tonight. You're right, it could very easily be a cold or some other mild virus. But under three months, a fever can never be ignored. One in ten are a bacterial infection, which could be much more serious. The dangerous infectionsâpneumonia, UTI, strep, and meningitisâhave to be ruled out or treated immediately in an infant that young."
"Fuck," I rake my hair again and put a hand on Ollie's hot little head. "Jesus...Ollie" Ashlynn gives him over to me, and I hold him close as his little body clenches in discomfort. It fucking kills me, how...unnatural he feels, tensed in pain.
"Leed, just, be cool, okay?" Kade says. "It's probably just a rule-out diagnosis. And if he's got an infection, then the hospital is exactly where he needs to be to get better. Just get yourself together, call your pediatrician's service to ask which hospital. I'm sure they'll call ahead and route you right to pediatrics floor. Make the call, then grab a supply of milk and walk out the door. Simple. Don't worry about anything else. Make all the rest of your decisions once you get him to the hospital and under doctor's care, okay?
"Okay, okay. Thanks."
"Leed, he's gonna be okay."
"Thanks man. I appreciate the advice."
"You bet. Keep me updated, okay?"
Ten minutes later, I'm driving to the hospital and Ashlynn is sitting in the back, comforting Ollie as best she can. Kade was right, we by-pass the emergency room. Everything happens so fastâan admissions person registering us while nurses are filling my tiny baby boy with linesâan iv to give him fluids, and pic line to take blood samples, and a catheter to take a sterile urine sample. I'm half cooperating and half growling as they cause Ollie more and more discomfort and he screams and screams. I pace and sign the damn Ipad they keep shoving in front of me every five seconds for acknowledgment of a million fucking documents giving consent to treat, while Ashlynn holds him through the procedures.
They keep calling Ashlynn "mom" and asking her over and over about Ollie's health at birth or if there are any unknowns in his history. From the way Ashlynn is comforting him I can see why they think she's his mother, but I don't get why they are harping on Ollie's medical history when we've already told them he's never been sick.
Finally Ashlynn says. "Ollie is not adopted. His biological mother and father," she gestures to me. "Parent together. I'm just a friend of the family. His mother had a healthy pregnancy and she takes good of herself and her baby, she's just out of town right now for work. Ollie was born full term, normal weight, perfectly healthy. His parents are both healthy with no medical problems, he's breast-fed and lavished with loving care. He hasn't suffered poor prenatal care or anything that would compromise his health."
Ashlynn is calm, but suddenly I am livid. I guess I'm color blind when it comes to Ollie because it is just now dawning on me what is so obvious to these nurses. Ashlynn and I couldn't both be Ollie's natural parents, because he's biracial. They assume his mother might have had poor prenatal care or maybe even a history of drug abuse because his color is not as pale as ours. My son is ten weeks old and people are already assigning him a history based on his skin color.
Lion, they call me. Never felt more like a beast than I feel in this moment, with a feral need to protect my son from every fucking hurtful thing in this world. The germs that are making him sick, these people that are making him hurt, prejudices that might trap in places I'll never fully understand.
Then the damn pediatric resident comes in with a needle he says he's going to insert into Ollie's spine, and I lose it.
"Are you kidding me? He's a tiny human being that can feel all this pain you are causing him and you guys are poking at him like he's a dead damn frog in a dissection tray or something! I've never seen so much trauma delivered to a person in a matter of minutes and he's a helpless baby who doesn't understand even understand why!" I put my hand out to the doctor. "Just wait a minute. Just...let him take a beat to recover from the last damn needle you stuck him with!!!"
The doctor looks at Ashlynn with feigned patience. "Mom, we need consent to do the spinal tap. Please, this is the last and most critical sample we need."
"She's not his mother," I snap. "His mother is not here; I'm his father and I say wait a fucking minute."
The doctor holds his hand up in defeat, snapping off his gloves. "I understand this is overwhelming, but if your baby has meningitis that is very serious. He needs a spinal tap as soon as possible so we can rule it out or treat him immediately." He looks at the nurses. "Let me know when he gives consent. I'll be charting at the station." He stalks out.
Ashlynn is staring at me, with eyes filled with hurt and sadness. She lays Ollie down because she can't carry him across the room with his IV and she walks over to the diaper bag on the couch, pulling out a cooling pouch with the bags of milk. "Could we store this and get one warmed up? He's missed two feedings."
The nurse looks at me like I might explode, but she shakes her head. "I'll warm it, but he can't have it before the spinal tap, just in case the procedure goes poorly. If they can't a sample they may need to sedate him for the procedure..."
"Are you fucking serious?"
"Leed," Ashlynn says quietly, and her worried face causes me to correct. I hold out a hand to the nurse. "Sorry. I'm sorry."
She just nods and hurries out with the milk.
Ashlynn bounces with Ollie some more; his cries are quieting to exhausted mewls. I stalk over to her and kiss her on the top of the head. "I'm sorry about what I said, about you not being his mother."
She shrugs. "Of course I'm not. I know that."
"Yeah, but you are acting just like a good mother. I don't know how you are so calm. I want to fucking punch somebody. Thank god for you, Ash. He's just...so pitiful," I say hoarsely, cupping his head, wishing desperately I could take away the discomfort twisting his little face. "I can't fucking stand this. The nurses, the doctor, they are just so fucking callous."
"They have a job, Leed. The ones that do it very well are calm and thorough. They need that callousness, or they couldn't keep doing it. Conventional medicine doesn't always work, but sometimes it does. Sometimes you are grateful to the ice-cold neurosurgeon who has the arrogance to save your life by cutting open your skull with a saw, even if saving your life leaves you with brain damage," She smiles at me, and I feel like even more of a shit.
Fuck. Ash knows more about pain at the hands of medicine that probably anyone I know, and yet she's calm and comforting me and Ollie right now. "I'm sorry you are here. I bet you hate hospitals, huh?"
She shrugs. "Not so much. I did want to be a doctor once upon a time. I still believe in the power of conventional medicine for some things. Like treating life-threatening infections. Please let them do the spinal tap on Ollie. That's the best thing for him right now. After, you can hold him and maybe he can feed and sleep, but he needs that meningitis screening first."
"It just hurts to see them hurting him."
"I know. It hurts me too. But if he has meningitis...it could be fatal if left untreated."
"I know. Fuck." I cowboy up, go out to the nurses station, lock gazes with the pediatric resident, give him the chin tip. In minutes two nurses are bending Ollie like a bow, pinning his limbs, completely immobilizing him as Ash and I stand by helpless, her arms around my waist to keep me weighted in the corner, and the doctor punctures his lumbar to access his spinal fluid.
After what seems like an eternity, the doctor holds up the sample vial in the light. "The spinal fluid is clear. That's a good sign, but we'll wait for the test to confirm no infection." He orders fever reducing medicine for Ollie and the nurses push it as once and give Ashlynn the bottle.
"Do you mind trying to feed him?" I ask her, "I need to call Tam and Ben...shit, my phone is dead." I walk over and reach for Ashlynn's back pocket. "I left mine in the car," she winces.
The nurses opens her hand. "You can charge it at the nurses station. I'll bring it back to you in a bit."
I hesitate. Handing over my phone is not something I'm comfortable with. Dawes and Marcy drilled us from the start how disastrous our personal shit leaking out could be. But this middle-aged nurse is probably not a hacker or a tipster, and I don't think anyone here has actually identified me, because I filled out the forms as L. Oliver Lawsonâlike most celebrities I use a derivation of my name on paperwork that is not as identifiable but still legal. Shorn and raging, I guess I'm not exuding typical Leed Lawson. I lock my screen and surrender my phone with a murmur of thanks.
Hunger and the need for comfort has overcome Ollie's feverous objection to eating, and for this first time in hours, he is content as he sucks the bottle. With Ollie calm, I find myself noticing the drawn expression on Ashlynn's face. She's ducking her head away from the light. Without knowing how I know, I understand it.
I sit carefully on the couch beside her, sliding an arm around her. "Headache?"
She nods. I'm quiet, trying to trouble shoot that. To be honest, I have a headache too. Ollie has been crying for hours and his sudden illness is fucking worrisome and stressful. It's probably just that same tension for Ash, but I can't take any chances with her. It doesn't matter what the cause of her headache is. We don't know what happens if her headache spirals, if she can't get relief.
"Bad?"
She shrugs.
"I don't know what that means. You have to tell me what's going on with you."
"Worse than I have had in a while. Doesn't feel...really bad. No nausea. But the light is kind of intolerable and that's a sign that it's about to get worse."
"What do you need?"
"Hopefully just sleep. It's three o'clock in the morning."
I go to the built in cabinetry and pull out a pillow and blanket. There are stocked because parents obviously will stay with their babies, sleeping on the two couches that line the walls, while the baby crib occupies the bed space in this baby hospital room. I sit back down and spread the blanket out over Ashlynn's legs as I sit, putting a pillow against my leg as gesture for Ollie. "I'll feed him, you rest your eyes."
Ashlynn shakes her head. "I'm not going to sleep and leave you...alone in this."
"I won't be alone. You'll be right beside me and I'll feel better for knowing that you are getting the sleep you need."
"Okay, but just for a little bit. Wake me up and then you can sleep while I watch him..."
Ashlynn is asleep and breathing regularly in ten minutes. Ollie finishes his bottle and I burp him. Thank the fucking Universe he seems more comfortable. He falls into a fitful sleep, but he is sleeping. I hold him, just watching him breathe and whimper. Eventually another nurse comes in to take his temperature. She takes him from me, puts him in the baby crib, records his temperature, checks his diaper, his IV, and wraps his snugly in a blanket.
"He's asleep. His fever is down. I've seen so many babies. So many really sick babies. He is sleeping peacefully. This is not a dangerously sick baby. Let him rest here. You sleep, too," she tells me sternly.
"I can't. I have to call his mom. My phoneâit's charging at the nurses' station."
"I'll bring it." The nurse lowers the lights on her way out.
"Thank you," I yawn.
I release the footrest on this end of the small sofa, stretching back, drawing Ashlyn up with me so she can stretch more comfortably in sleep. I watch the nurses trotting by outside the room, forcing myself to stay awake.
If that nurse doesn't bring my phone in five minutes, I'm going to have to go get it...
"Leed," an urgent voice says. I jerk awake, my arms going protectively around Ashlynn, who is still asleep. Grey dawn is lighting the room. Ollie is still sleeping just as the nurse left him hours ago.
Riley is standing to my left, his hand shaking me lightly awake, looking at Ollie.
"Is he alright?"
"I think so. We don't really have the tests back yet."
"What's wrong with him?"
"A fever and fussiness are his only symptoms. Could be just a cold or a virus, but under three months they check for every fucking horrible thing under the sun."
Riley rubs his face. "Thank fuck. I knew it wasn't true."
"What wasn't true?"
Riley takes his glasses off, and rubs them, which is stall technique for buying time and choosing his words.
"Riley, what are you doing here?"
"Checking on you and the Cub of course. But also..." he sighs wearily. "Damage control."
"Shit. The press knows we are here?"
"Oh, it's much worse than that. There's a complete bullshit story fabricated by an amateur pap. He got your picture walking in the neighborhood last nightâa very clear shot of you, Ashlynn and Trace, laughing over offering the baby a...stick of licorice. You all look amused. Hours later, he's got footage of you and Ashlynn bringing Ollie here, looking distraught. He's even got an supposed eyewitness saying you were high and belligerent while Ollie was being treated. The story he ran with? Accidental infant overdose. Ingestion of trace amounts of cocaine, absorbed from your fingers. Or Ashlynn's," he gestures at her.
"What? Fuck no. that's obviously a fucking lie."
"I know that, but the licorice unfortunately fits in with the story."
"What? What the fuck does licorice have to do with it?"
Ashlynn is suddenly awake. "It's an drug myth that licorice can treat a cocaine overdose. It doesn't, but some people eat it when they take too much cocaine."
"For real? How come I never knew that?"
Ashlynn sits ups, frowning. "Probably because you like weed, mollies and shrooms, and not coke."
"Just because you like something doesn't mean you abuse it," I correct Ashlynn, "You like champagne don't you?"
"Yes," she sighs.
"But you don't drink it because it hurts your head. So maybe I like weed, mollies and shroom but I'm not into them anymore because the hurt my relationship with you. How's your headache, by the way?"
She blinks. "Gone."
I kiss her temple. "Good." To Riley I say, "You gonna have Marcy bury this asshole?"
Riley nods, "Yes, of course. But there's something else. He's been on Ash for a while. He's been digging. He has...pictures of you, Ashlynn. A series of you very scantily clad and snorting coke in a VIPâsomewhereânot LA, I don't think. I don't recognize the players, but you are unmistakeable. His slant on the story is that you are Leed's new party girl...a bad influence. And a danger to Ollie."
"That's just the stupidest shit I've ever heard. I'm the Rock Star with the history of punching paps and trashing hotel rooms. Suddenly a chic is supposed to be my bad influence?" I protest.
Riley nods. "Yes, I know. No legitimate celebrity source is picking it up. But there's some twitter traffic about it. And of course, Ashlynn's past has been made. There may be more repercussions for her."
I reach for Ash's hand. She's looking down, away from me. I don't press her for details about her past, I simply say. "We treat Ashlynn's history like we treated Mac's assault or Ashlynn's marriage to Trace. Her privacy is the number one priority, no matter what it costs to buy pictures and kill stories."
"It's not that simple, Leed. In those situations we knew where to concentrate our efforts. In that year she was...absent from our lives...Ash was..." Riley sighs. "all over the place."
Ashlynn smiles bitterly up at him. "Just trying to stay one step ahead of you, Riley."
"You're the only person that has ever successfully done so, Ashlynn," Riley smiles sympathetically. "But speaking of staying a step ahead, there's one more thing."
"What?" I snap.
"Ben. Someone he knows, called him about the story of Ollie being hospitalized, and the picture of you two entering the hospital with Ollie is was enough to be convincing evidence of something going on. He's been trying to reach you all night. He called me...he's the one I fucking found out from. I barely beat him here, and I slipped a security guard five hundred books to delay him downstairs with some BS about a random security screening, just to buy you this head's up. By now, I'm sure the guard has either let Ben up the elevators or Ben has put him on the ground."
Ash's eyes fly to mine. "You didn't call Tam?"
I shake my head. "I feel asleep. The nurse never brought my phone. Fuck."
Ollie can read a fucking cue like nobody's business. He picks this exact moment to wake and wail. Ashlynn pulls to her feet slowly and picks him up. "Leed, can you ask the nurses where they put his milk? And ask about his test results?"
I rise stiffly. Riley slaps me on the back. "Come on mate. I'll keep lookout and hopefully intercept Ben while you track down a nurse. Perhaps he'll give me a chance to explain on your behalf before he decks me. I think you'll likely get the fists firsts, not the benefit of doubt.
The nurses quickly connect me with Ollie's milk, but they tell me we have to wait on the doctor for test results. Riley does intercept Ben, and he's in the process of explaining my side when I come out of the comfort station with Ollie's bottle warmed. Ben angrily advances on me. "What the fuck, man?"
"I know. I know. I fucked up not calling you and Tam. I swear to fucking God, whatever that pap said is bullshit, there's absolutely no drugs at my house, Ollie hasn't accidentally ingested anything. Trace did give him some licorice for a second, I didn't actually think he would get it in his mouth, but I took it away, it was nothing. I believe in my heart Ollie just has a cold. Just a fucking cold. But he has a fever and under three months they gotta come in and get checked out...that's what Kade and the pediatricians' call service said. It was just all chaos getting Ollie here and getting all the damn tests to rule out meningitis and other infections and my phone went dead and then Ollie got some Tylenol and he was able to sleep and I fell asleep waiting for the nurse to charge my phone..." I reach over behind the nurses station and unplug my phone, "See? And I swear to god, I just woke up, Ollie just woke up, Ashlynn is with him. Calling Tam was my first priority, and you next. Look, come down to the room and see Ollie for yourself. Let's call her together and explain before she sees this crazy fucking shit on the Internet."
Ben is glaring at me, like he can't decide whether the snap my neck and be done with my bullshit or if he actually believes me. Then he looks past me, and when he looks back, I think he's decided to kill me. "Too late," is all he says as he pushes past me, I whirl to follow him and to my utter surprise, I see Tam shaking her head and stalking into Ollie's room. She came from the other direction and got past us.
Before I'm halfway down the hall, I can hear Ollie's fussy cries, and Ashlynn's protests, of "No, no, no! Tam, he has an IV...please be careful, don't..." and Tam shouting Ash down, yelling "Give me my baby, Ashlynn!"
Yikes! What is going to happen next?