75. Wren
The house was dark as we pulled up, my forehead wrinkling as Hawk parked his vehicle along the curb in front of my house. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it wasn’t really normal, either. Cooper was constantly leaving lights on in rooms she wasn’t occupying. It was a battle she and I engaged in repeatedly.
But it was a bit unusual for all the lights to be off while she and Jillian were home alone, because Jillian was a little afraid of the dark.
My immediate thought was that Cooper had taken off again, my heart leaping into my throat as I quickly unbuckled and reached for my door, causing Hawk to frown as he’d been insistent on opening my door for me all night.
I could hear him calling out to me as I dashed across the heat-withered grass of my front lawn, but something in my gut was telling me to get to my daughter as fast as I could.
“Cooper?” I called, my hand shaking as I attempted to get the key in the lock. “Cooper? Jillian?”
When a shadow appeared behind me, I couldn’t help the scream that escaped me. Panicked, I spun around, relieved to see that it was Hawk, his towering form standing close as he reached for the keys in my shaky grip. Moving aside, I pressed a hand to my throat as I waited anxiously for him to get the door open.
“Coop?” he called, barreling into the house, his voice holding the same edge of panic that I was feeling. “Cooper! Where are you?”
Hawk didn’t stop, heading through the living room and into the kitchen, and I trailed him, flicking on the lights as we went. Looking around the house, I didn’t see any obvious signs of trouble, just the dishes from the lasagna still on the counter next to the sink.
“Here!” came Cooper’s muffled voice from down the hall, and I could have cried in relief. “We’re here.”
Her bedroom door clicked open, and Cooper stuck her head out, followed by a hesitant looking Jillian. Both girls appeared fine, but shaken up, arms crossed over their bodies and their faces pale.
“Coop,” I said softly, holding my arms open for her. “Baby, what happened?”
“I don’t know,” she replied, her body trembling. “Jillian and I were watching a movie. Then someone rang the doorbell.” I raised my eyes to Hawk’s, his face a thundercloud as he took in our frightened daughter.
“What happened, Cooper?” I encouraged, stroking her hair as I held her close. She was almost the same height as I was, but in her frightened state, she clung to me like a toddler.
“We didn’t answer the door, Mom. Like you told us. We didn’t.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Jillian nodding emphatically, her small frame curled around herself as she stood off to the side, alone. Holding out one arm, I waved her over. She only hesitated a second before she flung herself at us, and I clutched her to me, rocking gently back and forth like I used to do when Coop was little.
“But they wouldn’t go away. They started banging on the door, then kicking it. They were shouting awful words. Lifting her head, she looked at me as tears started to roll down her cheeks. “Words about you, Mom.” My eyebrows went up in surprise. “They called you a groupie whore.”
She could barely get the words out, she was shaking so hard, and Jillian began to outright sob.
“Oh, baby.” I kissed her forehead, and she only cried harder. “It’s alright, girls. Everything’s alright now.”
It took a while to calm them both down, but once they had, I settled them both into Cooper’s bed, where they snuggled up close. Both girls assured me they were fine, but they also insisted that the bedroom door stay open a crack and the hall light stay on.
Making my way back to the living room, I found Hawk standing at the window, talking quietly into his phone.
“Alright, Mick. Yeah. Yeah, I got ya.” Walking up behind him, I saw the moment he caught my reflection in the darkened glass, his whole demeanor shifting as he watched me approach. “I said I got it, Mick. Fuck. Tell Charlie what time we fly out, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Ending the call, Hawk pocketed his phone before he reached up and tugged the heavy curtain across the window, shutting out the night. When he turned to me, his face was closed off, giving nothing away as he waited for me to speak.
“You’re leaving.”
It wasn’t a question; I could see it in his expression.
“Yeah.”
“Alright.”
Fine. I was fine.
“That was Mick, our manager.”
I blinked. I thought Black Kite had broken up. What use was a manager to a defunct band?
“Okay.”
“He said there are photos. Of us. From tonight. People tagged me in a few pics and videos, but no one really knows who you are yet.”
He was talking, but my brain barely registered the words, focused instead on the simple fact that this—whatever this was—was already over.
I was an idiot. Of course, he was leaving. What celebrity in his right mind would be caught dead in this shithole of a town? No, it made sense for him to want to distance himself from it.
From us.
“Bird,” he said, taking a step toward me, but he froze when I stepped back. “Bird, I don’t want to go.”
“It’s fine,” I replied, because it was.
I hadn’t let myself get attached. I hadn’t let my foolish, daydreaming heart run away with me, painting a future I knew better than to hope for.
Nope. Not me. I hadn’t done any of that shit.
“Baby, please. Believe me that I don’t want to leave. But Mick—”
“It’s really okay, Hawk,” I answered, using every single ounce of my strength to keep the wobble from my voice. “Thank you for coming. I’m glad Cooper got to meet you.”
“Goddamn it, Wren!” he snarled, losing patience. “Would you stop talking like I’m never coming back? I just have to fly to L.A. for a meeting with the label, and Mick wants to do some damage control after the photos tonight.”
Now that had me paying attention, and I snapped my gaze to his, eyes narrowing.
“Damage control? Being seen with me in public is damaging to your, what? Your image? Your brand?”
“That’s not what I—” He let out a frustrated breath. “Listen, there’s a lot of shit going on right now, alright? The label has a major bug up its ass. Mick has us doing a fuckin’ documentary or some shit, not to mention the summer festival the guys and I are trying to organize.” He ran both hands through his hair—the hair that I had been pulling on in ecstasy not an hour ago—before he shook his head. “I just need some goddamn time, Bird, okay? That’s all.”
I looked at him, his whole body seeming to have aged a decade in the last hour. He looked tired, and a part of me wanted to feel bad for him. For the extra stress that being seen with me had caused.
But a much larger part of my mind screamed that I was fucking tired, too. For the last fifteen years, it had been all on me. Every single decision regarding the welfare of a human life had been on my shoulders. Not to mention every diaper, every nighttime feeding, every spilled juice and temper tantrum had been one hundred percent my responsibility and I was just so tired.
I loved Cooper with every fiber of my being, and I wouldn’t trade her for anything, but there was nothing harder in the world than being a single parent. There were no weekends, no days off or holidays. You were the sole provider for every single need that tiny human had, and every time you felt you’d reached your limit, fate walked up and pushed your sorry ass over with a laugh.
So excuse me if I couldn’t exactly find the sympathy that Hawk might have been looking for, but if someone was going to be handing out breaks, I was gonna be first in line for one.
“Sure thing, Hawk.” I shrugged, the skepticism in my voice evident. “You gotta do what you gotta do, right?”
“Bird, please.” He stepped toward me one more time, his eyes pleading with me to understand, but I was plumb out of understanding at the moment.
“I think you better go, Hawk,” I said, stepping past him and opening the door. “Have a nice flight.”
He stared at me in disbelief, and I wondered when the last time was that someone had said ‘no’ to the man.
When he finally accepted that I was serious, Hawk shook his head sadly as he left the house and stood on my porch, he and I creating an almost identical tableau to the first time he’d knocked on my door. Had it really been less than a week?
“I had Charlie sweep the perimeter a few times, and I checked that all the windows were secure. I’ll call you as soon as I land in L.A. and tell you what the next couple of weeks looks like. Please tell Cooper I said goodbye.” He spoke matter-of-factly, and I was grateful he’d stopped trying to convince me he was serious about coming back.
I couldn’t spend another fifteen years waiting on this man.