March 1, 1997
CLAUDIA
As March came in like a lion, Claudia arrived like a lioness.
She felt strong and fit, even though she still had about ten pounds to go.
She continued nursing Elliott, so Enid hired a stylist to help her ‘work around her huge jugs.’ Her song, called ‘Already Gone,’ had been recorded, and the label was keeping it under wraps for now, but every radio station had a copy ready for the morning after the concert.
The debut would be on stage. Just her and a guitar under the night sky.
Cameras would be set up to record every angle, then they would edit them into the official video.
Pictures of Mike would flash across a massive screen behind her, including some personal photos of them at the house in Malibu.
Shots of the stars and a live feed of the comet would be interspersed between the memories of their life together.
The production team wanted Zane and the guys to bring Elliott out on stage for the last verse, but Claudia refused.
What she was doing was bad enough. She wasn’t about to subject her baby to the noise and unpredictability of a late-night crowd.
Amélie, the nanny, would come along to the photo shoot, and was in the shower, while Claudia stood in the living room trying to get a burp from her son.
The commercial for the concert, which had been shown around-the-clock for weeks, started up again.
She stopped patting Elliott’s back and felt him tighten his fists on the shoulder of her sweater.
The room looked like a thousand diaper bags had erupted, leaving burping cloths, bottles, soothers, and baby clothes scattered everywhere.
A book of Angela McCreight’s poetry sat uncracked on the coffee table, the sight of it making Claudia’s chest tighten.
A laundry basket sat next to the sofa, heaped with clean, wrinkled clothing.
She wondered if maybe she should ask Amélie to help with these things but then remembered their first conversation when her new nanny made it clear that she wasn’t a housekeeper.
Just a nanny. That way she can focus on the bébé.
It didn’t matter though. Elliott didn’t seem to mind the mess, and it’s not like anyone was coming to visit anytime soon. Not even his own father.
She got back to patting him hard on the back to get a burp out of him, having discovered the importance of proper burping to have a settled, happy infant.
Claudia’s hand stilled when she heard the first few notes of ‘If I Didn’t Have Her’—the song chosen as background music.
False advertising if ever it existed because there was no way she and Zane were going to get up on that stage and sing that for the crowd.
Sienna would never allow it. In fact, she must have been furious when she saw the commercial.
They’d gotten Don LaFontaine (the announcer who’d done every movie trailer Hollywood put out since the early ‘80s) to voice the ad.
“Pepsi and Full Moon Records present the biggest night in rock ‘n’ roll history—The Concert Under the Comet—an unforgettable evening to remember rock legend Mike Kurilla. A once-in-a-lifetime celestial event meets a once-in-a-generation musical event, set in the Nevada desert, featuring Pearl Jam, Bon Jovi, The Fugees, Beck, Snoop Dog, the Red Hot Chili Peppers, and The Vows.” Images of Mike and Zane sharing a mic flashed across the screen, with her on the far right in the background.
The sight of Mike was jarring, and her limbs were heavy with grief.
Then, as she listened to Mr. LaFontaine inform the world that this was a pay-per-view event, only on HBO, her nerves took over.
“Oh shit, I don’t think I can do this, Elliott,” she said, making a ninety-degree turn to let the baby see the screen.
(She would have to stop cursing, but probably not for another few months.)
He wobbled his head in response.
“Yeah, I know. It’s crazy, isn’t it? Your mom is going to be up on that stage and on TV in front of millions of people around the globe.” Pat. Pat. Pat. “She wrote a brand new, terribly sad song that she’ll perform.”
Elliott let out the belch of a much larger child, accompanied by an enormous rush of spit-up. Claudia sighed as it warmed her shoulder. Why hadn’t she put on a burp cloth? There were literally six of them within reach.
Turning off the television, she lifted her son into the air so she could look at his content little face.
“But forget about the concert because today is a very big day. We’re going to your first photo shoot.
” She listened to make sure the shower was still on.
“You’re going to meet your dad today. Your real dad, not the one I’ll tell you is your father. ”
He reached out and put his little hands on her cheeks, his blue eyes staring at her intently, as if he understood the gravity of the situation.
“I promise you I won’t cry. Well, I’ll try not to. It’s going to be emotional for everyone, though. Except you. You’ll be fine. You’re a very sensible young man.”
An hour later, everyone was dressed and ready to go to the recording studio for the photos.
Claudia was in tall brown leather boots and a wrap-around dress but had been told to leave her face bare and her hair down for the professionals.
Amélie had dressed the baby in a pair of Osh Kosh overalls and a blue and yellow striped long-sleeved onesie.
Amélie herself was in a tight black and white off-the-shoulder striped dress that showed off her thin body, and Claudia could clearly see the threat she must have posed at her first job.
“You look lovely, Amélie,” she said.
“Merci,” she said. “I am dressed for finding a rich husband. There will be several rich men there, non?”
Claudia blinked quickly, feeling immediately threatened at the thought of this young goddess setting her eye on Zane. “No. I mean, yes, there will be, but the men in the band are … no.”
Amélie grinned at her. “Don’t worry. I know the band is all yours. I’m not after a rock star, anyway. Too unpredictable. A music executive though…”
Swallowing hard, Claudia, said, “I didn’t realize this.”
“Oui. It is why I came to America, but don’t worry. I won’t leave you before finding someone else to care for baby Elliott.”
“Thanks.”
“I mean, unless the right man comes along. Then, all bets are off. But he would have to be perfect.”
The doorbell rang, putting an end to the conversation.
It was the driver the studio had sent over to collect them.
It took him twenty minutes to figure out how to install the car seat properly, which put them behind schedule.
Claudia’s worst nightmare was that Zane would see her before the makeup artist and hair stylist had finished with her, but she got lucky.
He didn’t show up until she was camera ready.
She heard his voice before she saw him, and her heart stilled as if it was winding up to beat as hard as it ever had.
The makeup artist took off her cape and gave her the nod. “You’re gorgeous. Off you go!”
Claudia’s legs felt wobbly in the tall suede stiletto boots. A rush of cool air made its way up her skirt, causing goosebumps across her skin. Elliott was asleep in his car seat, with Amélie next to him, perched on the corner of the coffee table in the dressing room.
Claudia looked down at her. “Well, let’s get this over with.”
Amélie stood up, then took hold of Claudia’s shoulders. “Press them back. Be strong. You’re not here to hide yourself. You’re here to be seen.”
A lump formed in her throat, and Claudia fought the urge to hug the nanny. “Thank you. I needed to hear that.”
“Yes, I know.”
She carefully lifted Elliott out of his car seat and handed him to Claudia. “Here. Go show off your son to the world.”
When they entered the studio, the men were waiting.
All but one.
Seeing the remaining members together made the reality of their lives hit hard.
Mike was never going to join them again.
He’d never pick up a guitar and tune it, then play a few riffs to warm up.
He’d never smile at her or laugh at her jokes or nuzzle her neck or tell her she was beautiful.
But this wasn’t a moment to grieve. It was a moment to perform.
Rusty and Steven hurried over to greet her, their voices quiet and their eyes shining with emotion. “How are you, mama?” Rusty asked.
“I’m good. Well, you know.”
He rubbed her arm. “It’s hard.”
“So hard,” she whispered.
Steven’s eyes filled with tears, and he blew out a shaky breath. “I still can’t believe he’s…”
Claudia fanned her eyes with one hand, hoping her own tears wouldn’t ruin her makeup. “I know,” she whispered.
Fighting his tears, Steven ran his index finger down Elliott’s cheek. “He’s perfect. Who knew Mike could make such a perfect child?”
Rusty sniffled. “He would’ve...”
Sniffing, Claudia said, “If only, right?”
The three of them grew quiet, each trying to get themselves together again.
Zane, who was busy being interviewed by the ET crew already, gave Claudia a quick wink, then finished what he was saying.
“We’re all here to support her. She’s an incredibly talented woman.
And she’s lost a lot. We all have. Our lives will never be the same, so we’ll have to find things to celebrate.
Ways to keep Mike alive. And there’s no better way than by taking care of his son. ”
The reporter nodded eagerly. “That’s beautiful.”
“Thanks. We’re going to do our best to honor his memory, starting with the big concert.
And we’re going to make sure Claudia and little Elliott will always have a family looking out for them.
” He smiled at Elliott as if he were merely the child of a friend.
There was no hint of this causing him any pain whatsoever.
Maybe he could’ve made it as an actor. Or maybe seeing his son for the first time really meant so little.
The photography team got to work, positioning them all in front of a white backdrop.
Claudia sat in a classic mission-style armchair with Elliott on her lap, and the guys were positioned around her, standing up—Zane directly behind, Rusty to her left, and Steve to her right.
The photographer gave directions. “Everyone look at the baby. Steven, tilt your head to the left a little. Your other left. Good. Zane, put your hand on Claudia’s shoulder. Perfect. Yes.”
Claudia’s body warmed at the feeling of his hand on her. Her soul ached and she fought the urge to look up at him. Her nose tingled, and her eyes grew blurry.
“Keep smiling, Claudia. Yes, that’s better. You okay?”
She nodded. “Just a little hot. Why don’t babies come with fans?”
Everyone chuckled.
“Okay, let’s get a few with the guys holding him. Bring in the two stools. Zane on the chair, holding Elliott, and Steven and Rusty on either side. Claudia standing in the back.”
Claudia stood and looked up at Zane. Their eyes locked, and it was the only moment of truth that entire afternoon. “Here you go,” she said to the baby.
“Come see Uncle Zane,” he said, lifting their child from her hands. His eyes filled with tears. “Just look at him,” Zane whispered, kissing Elliott on the forehead.
The cameraman from VH1 rushed in to get the shot, bringing Claudia back to reality.
The women on set made ‘aww’ sounds. And Zane smiled over at them, back to being the showman.
Gently bouncing up and down, he said, “Isn’t he something?
I only wish Mike could be here.” His voice cracked, and the women clutched their hands to their chests, and everyone forgot they were there to do a job.
And in a flash, Claudia was relegated to the background with the three men and her son in front, and she knew this would be the cover shot.
The team worked quickly and soon, the photoshoot was over. The reporters hurried over to Claudia. “This must be quite emotional for you, Claudia. Can you tell us what this feels like?”
“It’s um … hard. I miss him every day. The real version of Mike, not the rocker people think he was. What happened was a tragedy, and I … wish he could be here.”
“Has it been helpful having so much support from the band? I’ve been told that Rusty’s wife, Kitty Dwyer, and Sienna have both been very involved.”
She flinched, then instantly recovered. “Everyone’s been incredible. I’m so lucky.”
The reporter from People took Elliott’s hand. “God, he’s a cute little thing. He looks exactly like his dad.”
“Doesn’t he?” Claudia asked, forcing a grin. “Just the spitting image of him.”
She glanced over at Zane in time to see him shoot her a warning look. Turning her gaze back to the reporter, she added, “Let’s hope he’s got his dad’s musical talent too.”
“Or yours. You’re no slouch, Claudia.”
“Thank you, but his father’s a legend.”
“That’s only because you’re just getting started,” the reporter said. “Word has it you’ve got a new song coming out. Tell us about that.”
While she answered the question, her mind seemed to leave her body and hover over her.
It was some other woman lying through her teeth.
Some other woman who was the other woman.
Not her. She would never have gotten herself into this situation.
She had morals. She knew better. Only she’d done it anyway.
And she would have to get through it. Eventually, the world would forget about Mike and they’d forget she was ever even a part of The Vows.
She’d have her own career and a house on the shore.
Claudia would put out her own songs. She’d raise her son and move on, with or without Zane.
Most likely without. But first she had to get through the next few weeks.
She glanced at Amélie, who was chatting with one of the studio executives who was on set, and Amélie straightened her shoulders and smiled at her.
Be strong. You’re not here to hide. You’re here to be seen.
When they were on the way home, Claudia was overcome with gratitude towards Amélie. “Thank you for today. You really helped me out.”
“It was nothing.”
“Did you meet anyone interesting?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Lucky for me then.”
“Yes, because if any of them had been even remotely attractive, I can promise you I’d be gone in an instant.”