No Tomorrow

“Are you sure that’s what you want? What if he wants to meet her? Do you want to bring this guy into Lyric’s life? Think of how confused she’ll be.”

His reservations are valid. Josh has been very protective of Lyric since we moved in and he took on the role Uncle Josh, and I love that he cares for her so much. He’s been an amazing male figure in her life—especially since my father still barely speaks to me—but I can’t keep Lyric a secret from her biological father if there’s a way I can get in touch with him. He has a right to know he has a child, and if he wants to be part of her life, that’s a bridge I’ll have to think about crossing.

“Blue might be a little strange and difficult, but he’s always been nice, and caring, in his own ways. I know he wouldn’t do anything to hurt Lyric. I think he would love her.”

“Really? Like he loved you and his dog?”

I glare at him. “Don’t be a jerk. I think he was just really confused at the time.”

“Nobody understands being confused more than I do, but he handled it like a first-class douche. I don’t want you or Lyric getting hurt. I don’t care who the hell he is.”

“It doesn’t matter to me who or what he is now. I still love him. And I believe he loves me,” I say softly. “I saw the concert schedule on their website. They’re going to be playing in Boston in two months, and I think I have to find a way to see him while he’s there so we can talk.”

He shakes his head. “Being in love with this guy has had your head fucked up for years. I don’t think talking is going to do a damn thing or get you what you want. If I were you, I’d hire a lawyer, get a paternity test done for proof, and sue for child support. He’s obviously got some money now.”

Even after all this time, I know Blue would never question paternity. He would believe me with zero doubt. And besides, Lyric looks way too much like him for anyone to ever deny that she’s his.

“Josh, really? Money is the last thing I want from him. You know I’m not like that.”

He rubs the back of his neck in frustration. “All right,” he sighs. “This goes against my better judgment, but one of the photographers I’ve worked with does a ton of band photography. Let me get in touch with him and see if he’s got any connections to get you in front of this guy.”

I perk up with renewed hope. “You’d do that for me?”

“I can’t make any promises, but I’ll try.”

I jump up and throw my arms around him. “Thank you. You’re the best.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” He pulls away and rests his hands on my shoulders. “Your makeup is a mess. Why don’t you go take a bath and I’ll pick up Lyric. I have to run some errands anyway.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s no problem. I think you should regroup before Lyric gets home. You know she can tell when you’re upset about something.”

He’s right—Lyric is very empathetic for a child. She dials right into the emotions of people and animals around her and wants to make everyone feel better. It’s one of the many things I love so much about her.

The bath was supposed to relax me, but I sabotaged that by bringing the CD with me. I slid out the cover, which unfolded to show tiny printed lyrics and credits. On the last section of the foldout each of the band members included a short acknowledgement or dedication, and I read Blue’s last:

For Piper, keeper of my heart, you’ll always be my ladybug. Don’t give up baby, I took a walk, but I didn’t run away.

Chapter Twenty-One

The past two months have been a mix of both warp speed and dragging time. I haven’t been sleeping or eating well, and my focus at work has once again been lacking. My brain is either too tired to function or my train of thought is constantly derailed with thoughts of Blue. I’ve been listening to his music practically non-stop, analyzing the lyrics, trying to decipher what they mean and wondering if they’re a key to his feelings or just random words thrown together for the sake of a good song. I’m exhausted, and I’m disappointed in myself for getting so distracted with him again. I should be above this by now, shouldn’t I? I’m older and more mature. I’m stable. I’m professional—most of the time. I’m a mother.

But damn, when it comes to Blue, I always short-circuit. As unsettling as that is, it’s also undeniably exciting.

“Why can’t I go with you, Mommy?” Lyric asks. She’s perched on the bathroom vanity watching me put mascara on. She’s obsessed with makeup lately and loves to put on lip gloss and eye shadow. I have to watch her or she’ll make herself up when I’m not looking.