My Kind of Forever (Beaumont 5)

Thank you. I love the rattles and I love you.

I hold my phone for a second longer, waiting for the conversation bubble to pop up. When it doesn’t, I try not to let that bother me. I know he’s busy. That he’s working. But I want to be a priority and want him answering every text I send as soon as I send it.

Now that the first present is out of the way, Elle has me flooded with more. Peyton has taken the job of moving the presents around to all the guests so they can “ooh” and “aah” at all of the cuteness. I’m opening everything from washcloths to clothes, including onesies that say, “I’m with the Band” and “My Dad Sings All the Lullabies”. Images of Liam singing to our son flood my mind. I can’t wait to see him sitting in the nursery, rocking his son to sleep.

All chatter stops when the doorbell rings. I look around and don’t notice anyone missing, unless it’s Harrison’s sister and mom, but they wouldn’t ring the bell.

“I don’t think she wants you here,” I hear Katelyn say, causing some concern.

“Excuse me for a minute,” I tell everyone as I walk toward the door. When I enter the foyer I see the cause of Katelyn’s raised voice.

“What are you doing here?” I ask my very absent mother-in-law who is standing on the porch holding a gift. The usual defiance is gone as she stands there looking at me. Liam has only seen her a few times since he moved home, and never longer than five minutes or so. To say they don’t have a relationship is an understatement. I know she’s been making attempts to visit Noah, although she never makes it further than the driveway.

“Bianca,” my mother says from behind me. I can feel her hand on the small of my back, and I can’t tell if she’s pushing me forward or trying to hold me back. “I’m so happy you could make it.”

Katelyn and I turn to look at my mom, who is ignoring both of us. She steps forward and pushes the screen door open so Bianca can step in.

“I’m sorry I’m late. My nerves got the best of me.”

“It’s understandable, but there’s plenty of party food left,” my mom says as she ushers my mother-in-law into the other room. I can hear her make introductions as Katelyn and I stare at each other.

“Did you know?”

She shakes her head. Of course she didn’t because she wouldn’t allow it.

I bite my lip, trying to keep the anger away, but it’s rolling in like a bad storm. “What am I going to do?”

Katelyn places both hands on my shoulders and looks me square in the eyes. “You’re going to go in there and act like you own the place. Do not let that woman ruin your day.”

I nod, but can’t bring myself to think positively. I pull out my phone, hoping for a text from Liam, but there isn’t one.

Your mother just showed up at my shower!!!!! WTF??

A bell slams against the glass door; making known to anyone in the bar that someone is walking in. I don’t remember it being there before, but I really only used the front entrance a few times when I was playing here. Once I got my first gig, Trixie gave me the code for the backdoor.

“We’re closed.”

The voice is older, hoarser, but I’ll never mistake it for anyone other than Trixie. Harrison, JD and I linger in the bar while the stranger behind the counter finishes slamming bottles around. When a head of black and white hair pulled back in a high bun pops up, I know it can be none other than Trixie. None of us say anything as she mumbles to herself and it dawns on me that she was probably hoping that whoever was at the door left.

“I told you idiots that we’re closed,” she says with her back facing us. We give each other a look, all three of us with our brows furrowed.

Trixie slowly turns around and places her hand on her hip. A white towel is draped over her shoulder and she looks forty years older than when I last saw her. Time has not been good to Trixie. Gone are the flawless skin and ruby red lips that I remember from years ago.

“We’re closed, morons. Or are you those stupid types that don’t understand English. Did Sal send you down here to spy?”

I look at Harrison and JD who both shrug wondering who the hell Sal is.

“Don’t you remember me? Or us?” She should remember Harrison. Not only did he work here for years, but he was just here performing drums with a band.

“Oh I remember you; you’re Charlie Page’s grandson.”

Hearing the name of my grandfather, a man that I never knew, catches me off guard. I knew he played here - it’s where he met my g

randmother - but of all the times I’ve been here, Trixie has never mentioned him. I don’t know anything about him other than he was a musician.

“My name’s Liam… I used –”

“Ack, I know who you are. Can’t you take a joke? Liam the Virgin. I’m getting older, but I’m not stupid. I remember.” She starts to laugh. I laugh too, but it’s forced. For a moment I thought she had forgotten about me. I hated the nickname she gave me. Not that I expect her to remember everyone that comes through here because, believe me, she’s seen a lot of musicians, but it’s not been that long since I used to frequent the stage.