No Tomorrow: An Angsty Love Story

Immersing myself in work is what I do. I don’t even take a lunch break anymore. I eat at my desk over my keyboard, sometimes calling my mother or Ditra for a quick chat before I throw myself back into the never-ending to-do list of my day.

The rest of my time is spent with Lyric. Reading to her, taking her and Acorn to the park. Letting her help me get dinner ready. Watching television with her and Josh, until I finally fall into bed completely exhausted. The next day, I do it all over again.

As long as I keep myself busy, I’m not falling apart missing Blue, or working myself into a worried frenzy reading about his debauchery. There’s been a lot of crazy in his life lately, unfortunately. His life and career have been up and down like a seesaw. When I read about the ups, I silently cheer for him. I print out the articles, the interviews, and the photos. I hide them all away in an old steam trunk in the basement, along with all of his albums, band T-shirts, and memorabilia like concert tickets I’ve purchased over the years. All of this I hope to give to Lyric someday so she has pieces of her father’s life and accomplishments. Regardless of anything else, he’s an amazing musician—an icon in the grunge rock era—and I’m immensely proud of him for that. I hope all his accomplishments will help Lyric overlook his less than favorable moments. Like drunken tantrums on stage and disappearing into the desert.

It’s nearing five o’clock on Friday night, and I’m almost done updating the production schedule when my direct line rings.

“Good afternoon, Piper Karel.”

Silence.

“May I help you?” I ask.

“Hey, you.”

At the sound of his deep voice, my heart flip flops like a trained dog under his command. It’s been a year since we last talked, although I’m not really sure I can call that a talk at all. He called me drunk in the middle of the night, distraught and mumbling about voices and darkness and pain and how much he missed me and birds and things I couldn’t even begin to comprehend. I listened to him until the sun came up. I tried to calm him and bring him down from whatever mental trip he was on. Suddenly he stopped talking, and I held the phone to my ear for a full ten minutes, waiting and listening, and softly saying his name. Worried, I hung up and called Reece, who confirmed that Blue had passed out on his bed, still with the phone in his hand.

I, unfortunately, didn’t get to pass out and sleep that particular night a year ago. I had to get my daughter ready for school and head to a grueling Monday morning at work.

“Hi,” I say.

“You’re mad at me. I can hear it in your voice.”

“And you sound sober.”

“I am. But it’s still early,” he jokes.

“That’s not funny, Blue.”

He clears his throat. “I know. You’re right. I’m two weeks sober, actually.”

“That’s great.” I force myself to sound positive, but I’ve heard this before.

“I miss you, Ladybug. I think about you all the time.”

“I miss you too. You know I do.”

“How’s Lyric?”

I lean back in my chair and spin it toward the window. “She’s great. She loves school, she’s making friends. She loves to read. She’s reading books way ahead of her grade level.”

“She got that from you. I got the pictures you sent me. She’s adorable.”

“She is.”

“How’s Acorn?”

“He’s doing okay. He’s got cataracts now, and he doesn’t hear very well anymore. He limps sometimes. The vet says he has arthritis. He’s still happy, though. Lyric just loves him to pieces. They’re inseparable.”

“You’re a great mom, Piper. To both of them.” He pauses. “I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t know you were taking care of them.”

I want to tell him I didn’t have a choice, because he abandoned me with both of them. But I don’t, because I know he’s incapable of taking care of anyone—himself included.

“Well, I love them. So it’s easy.” I glance at the clock on my desk. “I hate to cut this short, but you caught me just as I was about to leave the office. I have to pick up Lyric at a friend’s house.”

“Can I call you tonight at home?”

“If you want to. But if you forget, I’m not going to call you.” We played that game last year. He’d email me and tell me he was going to call, and I’d sit and wait. And wait. I’d lose patience, give in, and call him and he’d either be out or inebriated in some way, and I’d feel like an idiot for waiting around for him.

“I won’t forget. I promise.”

I think about him as I drive across town. He sounded good today, like he did years ago. I know better than to get my hopes up, though, because we’ve been here before.

So many times.

As soon as Lyric’s in the car, I push Blue out of my mind to focus on her. I refuse to let him crawl back into my head and my heart and distract me from all the important things in my life.

I take Lyric to the diner for dinner. We have grilled cheese and share a milkshake while she tells me all about her day. Later, we put our pajamas on and sit in my bed watching Disney movies like we do every Friday night.

At ten-thirty my phone rings, and I pick it up before it wakes Lyric. She has fallen asleep beside me.

“Wow, you called,” I say, smiling with surprise.

“I’m trying to live up to my promises.”

“This is a good start.”

“How was your night?”

“The usual. I took Lyric to the diner, we took Acorn for a short walk, then we watched television. Exciting, huh?”

I wonder what rock stars do with their time. I doubt he sits around watching television.

“Honestly? It sounds nice.”

“It is nice,” I agree. “So what about you? Where are you now?”

“I got home last month.”

“I heard you did a tour in Europe?”

“Yeah, it was wild. The fans are crazy over there, they’re so passionate. And the food is fucking amazing. I got some new ink while I was there, I found a killer artist. I’ll send you pictures if you want to see.”

“I’d love to see.”

Lyric stirs next to me and pops her head up. “Mommy. Is that Gramma?”

“No, it’s a friend of mine.”

“Can I say hello?”

“Not tonight.”

“Wow. That’s her?” Blue asks.

“Yup. That’s her. Can you hold on for a few minutes while I take her to bed?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

I lay the phone on the nightstand. “Let’s get you in your bed, okay?”

“Can’t I sleep with you tonight?”

“Mommy’s going to be on the phone for a little while so you should sleep in your own bed.” I jump off the bed and hold my hand out to her. “Let’s go brush our teeth.”

It takes me fifteen minutes to get her ready and into her own bed, and it hurts my heart when she asks me again who I’m talking to. I tell her again it’s a friend. Not telling her who it really is feels like a betrayal, but I’m not ready to tell her about Blue yet. Lyric has never asked me where her father is, or who he is, but I know as she gets older she’ll be asking those questions. I have no idea how I’m going to tackle that.

“You still here?” I ask when I’m back in my bed with the phone.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry that took so long.”

“It’s fine. I’m a little wacked hearing her voice for the first time.”

“How did that make you feel?”

“Um… a lot of things. Surprised and sad, but glad, too. Her voice reminds me of yours, so soft and cute. Does she know anything about me?”

“I was just thinking about that actually. She doesn’t. She’s never asked. But she’s almost six now and sooner or later she’s going to have questions.”

“What are you going to tell her?”

“Honestly I don’t know. I’m just going to tell her you moved away. When she gets older I’ll tell her more. I guess someday you and I can figure something out together.”

“Okay. I’m not ready yet but someday.”

I hear him inhale and I hope it’s a cigarette and not a joint.

“Someday I’d like to get to know her. It’s up to you, though. I know I don’t deserve anything.”

“Blue, don’t say that. She’s your daughter and I want you to have a relationship with her, but as long as she’s under eighteen, I don’t feel comfortable with her being around you if you’re still partying. I won’t let you yo-yo her like you do to me.”

“Understood. And I agree. I’m not an idiot, I know I’m not good for her. But it’s on the list of things I want to work on.”

“You have a list?”

“A list of things I want to unfuck in my life.”

“Well, that’s a step forward, right? How’s it going so far?”

He laughs. “You tell me. You’re the first thing on my list.”

“I’d like to be flattered but that’s not really a compliment,” I tease. “Being on the top of your ‘things I fucked up’ list.”

“It’s a long list.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“All kidding aside, I fucked up with you the most. And I hate that, Piper, I really do. I keep wondering what would have happened if I’d stayed.”

A pang hits me in the chest. “Blue… let’s not talk about that. You’re trying. And I’m trying to let you try. So let’s not dwell on the bad stuff.”

“Deal.”

I pull the comforter up to my chest and get comfy against my pillows. “But… I do want you to tell me where you went that day you left. Did you go back home? To Jersey?”

“No. Don’t take this wrong, but I wanted to get as far away as possible. Not from you, but just… away. I can’t explain it. So I headed for the west coast. I had some friends back there, and it was warmer and I thought it’d be cool to play guitar by the water, ya know?” The sound of liquid pouring is in the background. “That’s iced tea, by the way,” he says, as if he’s reading my mind. “So I was making my way across the country and I ran into Reece at a bus terminal. I hadn’t seen him in a few years.”

“You knew him when you were younger, right?”

“We went to high school together. And we shared an apartment for a while. He was a kickass guitarist back then and we wanted to start a band but his bitch of a girlfriend at the time wouldn’t let him do shit. That’s when I said fuck it and I took off. When I ran into him at the terminal he was playing in a fucking wedding band and I was like dude, you’re too good for this shit, let’s start a band and rip this town up.”

“That’s how No Tomorrow started?”

“Yeah. The other guys had just come out of some sucky-ass band. We had a rocky start but somehow we got lucky and ended up here.”

“That’s pretty crazy. But wow, look at you guys now.”

“Yeah, look at me, fucking the band all up with my shit,” he says sarcastically.

“How’s all that going?” I’m almost afraid to ask. The press has been hard on him. Every detail captured, every one of his drunken tirades, fights with band members, and other seedy gossip plastered all over the tabloids and internet.

He blows out a breath. “It’s good and bad. None of us are saints, we’ve all had our moments. Mine of course have been way more frequent and disastrous. There’s some bad blood still flowing. We’re taking a break for a few weeks then we’re gonna hit the studio and work on some new material.”

“Every band goes through rough times, not just yours. And I’m not going to lie, you pissed off a ton of fans. I’m sure the rest of the band wasn’t happy about any of that. I saw the videos and read the articles. It was pretty bad, Blue. But… you’re trying to make it better, that’s what’s important now. You sound happy. It’s been a long time since you sounded so…normal.”

“Normal? Me? Never gonna happen, babe. But talking to you is the closest to happy I get.”

My defenses melt like butter. “It makes me happy, too.”

“I really fucking miss you. I know you’re so sick of my shit. And I know you probably wish I’d just leave you the fuck alone. I try to, but it never works.”

“No,” I say, cringing at how fast I said it. “That’s not what I want. I’ve never wanted that.”

He takes a deep breath. “You want to tell me what you do want?”

My ovaries scream his name. “No, I don’t.”

“It’s me, isn’t it,” he teases in his wicked, sexy voice.

I laugh, even though I don’t want to. “Ego much?”

“No, it’s not ego. Just wishful thinking.”

A moany sound of frustration comes out of me. It’s totally not fair that he does this to me.

“Fuck, baby if you keep making noises like that I’m gonna lose my mind over here.”

“You’re so bad, you know that?”

“I know. I also know it’s what draws you to me.”

I twirl my hair around my finger nervously—a childhood habit that Lyric has picked up as well. “Really? Is that what it is?”

“It’s part of it.”

“So what draws you to me, then?”

He exhales, and his voice is raspy with smoke when he answers. “Your innocence. How unconditionally caring and loyal you are. And your hot little body.”

“My innocence didn’t last too long once you came along.”

“It’s still there. A little tarnished, maybe.”

“By you.”

He hums on the other end of the line. “Only by me?”

I know what he’s asking, and I’m tempted to lie and let him believe I’ve been with other men. In a way, I want to knock him out of that place in my body he claimed and still owns. I know he likes it and it turns him on—to be the Highlander of my vagina, the only one. But I hate to play games and manipulate people’s emotions, so I tell him the truth.

“Yes, only by you. Happy now?”

“Very.”

“And you?” I really don’t want to know, but it’s human nature to ask questions. Even the ones I truly don’t want the answer to.

“I might’ve fucked a hole in the ground while I was walking around in the desert. I was pretty wasted and having all kinds of messed-up hallucinations.”

I laugh at him. “You’re an ass.”

“It’s true. But other than that, I’ve been having a great time fucking myself.”

“Can you be serious? I was honest with you, Blue. You can just tell me the truth.” Yes, I’m practically begging the man I love to tell me how many women he’s been with since the last time we were together.

“I swear to God I’m telling the truth. You want brutal honesty? I jerk off on one of the pictures you sent me and I come all over your face.”

I’m totally horrified but also strangely turned on. “Oh my God! Isn’t that messy?”

“Not really. I put it in one of those clear plastic sleeves. I bought a case of them so I just throw it out and put your picture in a new one every day.”

“You are so twisted. I can’t even tell if you’re kidding.”

He laughs with me, and it’s so good to hear him happy and joking, even if he’s being an ass. I can’t remember the last time he acted sexy and flirty with me, but I’ve missed this side of him.

“Ya know what, Piper? If you’re the one that’s got a hold on me? Then that’s it. I can go without sex if I have to. Maybe that makes me weird, I dunno. The way I look at it, I’ve always been too much of a fucked-up mess to give you any kind of normalcy, but I can give you my heart and I can give you my body. We’ve had a shit ton of ups and downs, but I’ve always believed that we’re not over. So no, there’s no one else.”

Hugging my comforter tighter to me, I lean my head into the phone and quietly sob. Life and love can be so cruel and beautiful and utterly confusing. This isn’t the love I dreamed of as a little girl. This isn’t the whirlwind romance I swooned over in books. There’s no sparkly ring, no wedding bells, no husband holding our baby in the delivery room. But what we have is a real love. It’s dark, and ugly; raw and passionate. It brings pain and it brings happiness and everything in between. This love—our love—is a love that never dies. It withers in the dark and comes back to life again under bright moments even stronger than it was before.

I wipe my cheeks with the back of my hand. “For someone as fucked up as you are, sometimes you’re really kinda perfect, too.”

“I guess I have my rare moments…”

“You do.”

“You’re the only one that’s ever looked past the dirt to see the flowers, Ladybug. That’s why I can’t let you go.”

How does he somehow manage to say the right things?

“I really wish I could hug you right now,” I whisper.

He’s quiet on the other end, and I worry I’ve said too much and wrecked his good mood. But then he answers. “Maybe we can work on arranging that. I can’t promise I’ll let you go, though.”

God, I’m in trouble. He’s bulldozing his way right back into my heart again.