2 A.M. — November 22, 1996 #2
“It was,” she said, feeling goosebumps all over her body as she stood in the massive room in her T-shirt and pajama shorts.
“Getting up with the kids and all those long lunches and taking me to Napa for the weekend, writing with Ivy, the family game nights … it was all because you knew what you had done, and you were trying to make it so we wouldn’t want to live without you.
You don’t care about us. You were only thinking of yourself. ”
“That is not true,” he said, his voice stern.
“It is. It’s exactly what happened,” she said, her skin wet with tears that flowed down her chin and onto her neck.
“Yeah, so you know what? Fuck you. Fuck you for making the kids fall in love with you these last few months. They would’ve been infinitely better off if things stayed the same as before—with you popping in every once in a while like a fun uncle.
Now, you’ve gone and taught them to depend on you.
To look up to you. So when they find out, they’ll be crushed.
” She raised her voice louder than she should have with Poppy in the next room.
“Crushed. You’re going to wound them in a way you wouldn’t have if you’d just stayed away.
You are going to be the first man who breaks Ivy and Poppy’s hearts. How does that feel?”
His voice cracked. “Terrible.”
“I don’t even believe you. I don’t think you care at all about any of us because if you did, you wouldn’t have done this.”
“I’m sure it seems like that, but I swear to you, Sienna, I have never felt sorrier about anything in my entire life.”
“Yeah, that just doesn’t help at all. So fuck you. And get the fuck out of my bed. You make my skin crawl.”
“But what about the kids?”
She grabbed the door handle and yanked. “Set your alarm so you’ll be up before them. Or stay awake and think about how you’ve ruined all our lives. Your new son’s too, because he’s going to have to wear this for his entire life.”
5 A.M.
Sienna didn’t go back to sleep, despite the lack of snoring in her room.
Instead, she let Billie up onto Zane’s side of the bed, hoping it would provide her with some comfort.
And that’s when she discovered that her fluffy shadow could somehow stretch her seventy-pound body across an entire king bed.
At five o’clock, she threw off the covers, then made her way to the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee.
As she sat at the table and sipped from the ‘world’s best mom’ mug Parker gave her for Christmas, she waited for the sun to peek out over the trees.
If only it would come up, she’d know everything would be okay eventually.
When it finally appeared in a deep pink and orange glow, her muddled, confused mind cleared for the first time since she found out. She suddenly knew what to do.
She hurried to the guest room and flipped on the light, then hissed, “Get up. We need to talk.”
Sienna left the room immediately, not wanting to hear her husband complain about the hour.
She quickly dressed in some baggy jeans and a black long-sleeved top that was cropped just above the waist, then returned to the kitchen to wait, her plan taking shape in her brain until she could see the path ahead.
It was going to be ugly, and she’d hate herself forever, but it was either this or sit back and let everything implode.
And now, as she sat at their kitchen table waiting for him, the truth made her stomach tighten up.
She had known for years that this would happen.
If only she’d taken action at the first hint of trouble.
DECEMBER 31, 1989
SIENNA
Sienna sat at her dressing table applying a second coat of mascara while trying to ignore her raging case of heartburn.
Ivy and Parker were staying at Zane’s parents’ place for the night so they could host a New Year’s Eve party.
The thought of starting out a new decade without her babies felt wrong, but she was on a mission.
One she had no choice but to complete for the sake of her two little darlings she kissed goodbye three hours earlier, and the one she hadn’t met yet.
Zane walked into the bedroom from the en suite in a cloud of steam wearing only a towel. “God, you’re beautiful.”
She gave him a half-smile in the mirror. “Oh, please, I already look like I’m six months along and it’s not even three.”
He walked over and put his hands on her shoulders. “You’re gorgeous like this. I love you pregnant.”
“That makes one of us.” Sienna did her best to hide a burp, but clearly Zane noticed.
“Still got heartburn?”
Sighing, she said, “I can’t believe it started already with this baby. It’s like I went straight to the third trimester.”
“Can I get you some Tums?”
“Already had my limit for the day.”
“How is there a limit on Tums? They seem so safe.”
“How are there warnings about too many eggs? Nothing makes sense anymore,” Sienna answered, tossing her mascara tube back into the drawer. “Oh, God, now I sound like an old woman.”
“Stop it. Thirty-five is very young.”
“Then why do I feel like I’m a hundred and two?”
He wandered over to the walk-in closet. “You know, if you’re not feeling up to entertaining, we can always cancel.
Have an entire evening to ourselves—without the kids.
” He poked his head out and waggled his eyebrows at her.
After a second, his smile disappeared. “Not that I’m expecting anything from you.
But think of how nice it could be. I’ll rub your feet while we watch a movie. ”
“Zane McCreight—world-famous rock star—wants to spend New Year’s Eve watching a movie?”
“And rubbing your feet.”
She stood and joined her husband in the dressing room. “As wonderful as that sounds, seventy people are, at this moment, getting ready to ring in the new decade here. Because I invited them, for reasons I can’t understand right now.”
That was a lie. She knew exactly why she was throwing a party. Not that she’d share the reason with her husband. It would be humiliating for her and insulting to him.
He tugged a black tee over his head and slid on his favorite old jeans. “It’s because you’re a warm, welcoming woman who knows how to keep the band together.”
Sienna took down the hanger holding the navy V-neck wide-leg jumpsuit she’d had made for the occasion.
It allowed her to show off her arms, shoulders, and cleavage (which had recently become one of her top features) while giving her enough room for her round tummy.
She’d pair it with the diamond necklace Zane bought her for their fifth Valentine’s Day and some gold strappy sandals.
“Did Claudia say she’d make it?” Sienna asked, trying to sound casual.
“Yep, I think she’s pretty excited about the invite. She offered to bring a spinach dip.”
“Aww, what a sweet kid.”
Shrugging, Zane said, “She’s twenty-five, so she’s not exactly a kid.”
Pursing her lips, Sienna said, “Do you even remember being twenty-five?”
He pulled a face as if she’d hurt his feelings. She hadn’t. “You’re making me sound like I’m over the hill.”
“We both are.”
Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her in. “No, we’re not. We’re still wild and as exciting as ever.”
“You are, maybe. I can’t even have a glass of champagne.”
“Soon, sweetheart. We’ll get to meet this new baby, and you’ll be back to doing all the things you love.”
They say when you marry a man, you marry his family as well. The same is true when marrying the lead singer of a tight-knit rock band. For better or for worse applies to the other wives and girlfriends too, all thrown into the chaos and comfort of their crazy lives.
As far as the bass player, Mike Kurilla, and the drummer, Steven Moore, went, the women changed so fast Sienna didn’t bother learning their names.
(Steven had been married when she first met Zane, but it had fizzled out years ago.
Since then, short term relationships only.) The band’s lead guitar player, Rusty Dwyer, however, married his college sweetheart (and Steven’s big sister), Kitty.
Over the last fifteen years, Kitty had become one of Sienna’s closest friends.
She was the only person who truly understood what it was to be the wife of a musician—the excitement, the loneliness, the wondering if he was really alone in his hotel room or not.
Actually, Kitty didn’t understand that last part because she never doubted Rusty.
But then again, they were each other’s first loves, whereas Zane’s history with women was somewhat sordid.
Well, not somewhat. It was sordid in every sense—a fact that caused Sienna’s maid of honor, Kylie, to warn her that Zane treated women the way a chain-smoker treats cigarettes.
But Rusty’s eye never wandered. He went directly from their shows to the hotel to call home and spend an hour or two talking about the boring things that make up a marriage.
It threatened to rain at soccer practice, but it held off until we got home.
The car is making that rattling noise again and will have to be taken into the shop.
Whose parents are we spending Thanksgiving with this year?
Wasn’t it your parents last year? I’m sure it was.
When they were in the same time zone, they fell asleep talking to each other, which made for exorbitant phone bills.
They both agreed the calls were a necessity.
Sienna secretly thought this was a sign Kitty might not trust her husband as fully as she claimed.
But who was she to judge? They’d been together a hell of a lot longer than she and Zane, and they seemed happy, from the outside anyway.