She sighs and roots around in her bag. Bringing out her pack of cigarettes, she takes one out. “I need a smoke.”
“Those things will kill you, y’know.”
“You’re the one who’s gonna kill me.”
♫♫♫
Back at the stadium, I hear the fans’ excitement from inside the arena and know I did the right thing. I can’t let my fans down. Without the fans, what I do means nothing. I take a couple of Ibuprofen, and Bridget and Simon take turns every fifteen seconds to ask me how I am, and I love them for their concern. Elisha walks in with her makeup kit, and with each stroke of her brush, she covers up every outward sign today’s toll has taken on me. When she’s done, I slip into the bathroom to change. The smell of pine tells me Sam had a cleanup crew in here. I wonder what she told them, and I’m so grateful to her because not only is she my agent, she’s my friend too and I know she’s got me. I pull on the black leather pants, and the stage costume cloaks and cocoons me. My mind is like a switch, and suddenly I’m solely focused on what I’m about to do. The pain and devastation of today is packed neatly in a box and buried under denial. I know when the box tears open later, it’s going to rip into me like a thousand paper cuts.
I’m okay with that.
For now, I’m just going to pretend.
Chapter 2
Hayley
“Would you rather be covered in ants or covered in worms?”
Brendan can hardly contain his glee as he asks, and I make a face as though even contemplating this is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. It’s been good spending time with Bridget, Simon, and Brendan. Really good for me. After the concert, I was pretty much wiped. The trauma of the miscarriage and my performing left me feeling completely depleted, but I’m glad I still went on with the show. The fans were incredible, and for two hours, I did an excellent job of suppressing everything that happened and just focused on doing the best I could up there. We’d set up quite a few more intervals than I usually do so I could rush to the bathroom and change out my pads. Simon and Bridget fussed over me, having opted to watch from backstage instead of the VIP area, and despite the interruptions, I’d still performed all the songs and spent the same amount of time interacting with the fans. They deserved the best I could give them, so I gave it my all, and by the comments on social media, no one was the wiser and their experience wasn’t diminished in any way. For that I was grateful.
Once I got changed after the show, I could barely put one foot in front of the other. Sam arranged a golf cart to take me back to Simon’s car, and I’d fallen asleep in the back seat. Bridget had set me up in her cottage even though I have a house a couple of blocks away. She was adamant that I shouldn’t stay alone, and I’m glad she had insisted. The cottage gives me the privacy I need, without leaving me feeling isolated. I slept most of the day yesterday, but today I am feeling a lot better.
“I think I’m going to go with ants,” I tell Brendan, scrunching my nose. “How about you?”
“Worms!” A huge grin spreads over his face as I shudder at the thought.
“What?” he giggles. “Ants will crawl up your nose and try to get in your eyes.”
“Worms will try to get up your nose too,” I laugh.
“What’s all this?” Bridget comes into the living room where Brendan and I are playing our game. The Smurfs cartoon, a gift from me to Brendan last Christmas, is playing quietly in the background, but we’re so engrossed in our game, we haven’t been watching. It’s strangely comforting for me to have something from my childhood in the background. Whenever the theme plays between episodes, I find myself smiling.
“We’re playing Would you Rather,” Brendan announces. “Wanna play?”
“I’d love to.” Bridget tightens the belt of her dressing gown and smiles down at Brendan lying on his stomach on the floor.
“Cool, Aunt Hayley asks the best questions. You go, Aunt Hayley.”
“Alright.” I steeple my fingers together as I think of a good question to ask. “I’ve got one.” I wink at Brendan. “This one’s going to be good.” Then I smile wickedly at Bridget. “Would you rather never be able to open your mouth, or never be able to close your eyes?”
“Darn, that is a good one.” Bridget sits on the coffee table and purses her lips. “If I can’t close my eyes, how will I sleep? But if I can’t open my mouth, I won’t be able to eat.” She deliberates the question as if her choice will actually make it so. “I suppose they could give me a feeding tube at the hospital. I choose…never be able to open my mouth again.”
“Do I get a choice? ’Cause that definitely is a deal-breaker for me, luv.” Simon enters the living room in his scrubs, looking a little tired after his shift, and bends down to give Bridget a kiss. She blushes and swats Simon’s arm while I laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Brendan asks, thankfully too innocent to understand Simon’s innuendo.
“Feeding tubes are messy, buddy.” Simon ruffles Brendan’s hair, saving poor Bridget from her mortification. “Who feels like pancakes? I’ll wash up and we can go out?”
“Meee!” Brendan declares.
“I’ve got a better idea.” Bridget
