Page 31 of The Only Thing That's Real

“Hey Megs, not much. What are you doing with your mom’s phone?”

“I was playing a game while she took her shower.”

Before I can reply, there’s a flurry of activity on the screen before Marie appears sans make-up with a towel on her head. “Sorry ‘bout that. What’s up?”

“I just wanted to thank you for the gift?”

Her brows furrow. “Gift?”

“Yes. The sweet stuffed animal.”

“Sorry, I’m not following you. I wish I had been thoughtful enough to have gotten you a gift, but it wasn’t me.”

“But the card was addressed to Horse Girl. You’re the only one who’s called me that.”

“Hmm... sounds like somebody has a secret admirer.”

Chapter Seventeen

Knox

Another concrete building. Another non-descript room full of items off our show rider. A charcuterie tray and sparkling water for the families, sour candies for Matt, chips for Sean, Aveda Comforting Tea for me, and, as always, a cookie tray from the best local bakery in whatever town we’re in for Jay. He says he wants to support local businesses, and I believe him. He also says they’re for the kids and not for him. That... is bullshit. The man loves his baked goods. Just like the old days, there are ice cold beers and a bottle of the best tequila for our pre-show shot, but those are the only things remaining from the old days of our rider.

Oh, the debauchery that was had. Damn, how things have changed. If they hadn’t, who knows where we’d be today?

We’ve been at the arena since soundcheck. Tonight is one of those nights that used to have me drinking myself into oblivion. The family time is pure torture. It feels like my reality and my nightmares are colliding, not allowing me to escape the thing I want most. I love the kids and I’m glad they’re here. It’s just a lot harder watching Ryan with them all day.

She fits into the group seamlessly. I’ve never seen the wives and kids take to someone like they have to her. She’s played slapjack, Go Fish, Jenga, and Sorry! They brought out the karaoke machine, and the girls insisted Taylor Swift was the only artist allowed. My eyes may have rolled, but then Ryan took the mic and Hannah, Megan, and Anna stood behind her, playing the part of her back-up dancers.

Nothing could have prepared me for the first note she sang.

Her voice was low. Smooth as honey, as she sang the first verse of “Karma”. She cracked herself up a few times as she acted out what must be some of Taylor’s moves as she sang. The blush on her cheeks was adorable. Then she hit her higher register. A look around the room told me I wasn’t the only one once again shocked by what they were hearing. Ryan and the kids were so busy goofing around with their dance moves she didn’t even notice her stunned audience.

We all took turns looking at each other as if to say, ‘are you hearing this too?’ Ryan and the girls got a standing ovation for their performance and when asked about her singing, she looked at everyone as though they had lost their minds, like she had the time before.

Perplexed by the positive reaction, she looked at me togive it to her straight. And I did. I told her she was good. She told me I needed hearing aids.

Shortly after her song was over, I excused myself. Going on a walk through the tunnels inside the arena. Needing the time to clear my head. In the past, when I felt my emotions taking over, I drank myself into oblivion, saying and doing things I later regretted. I’ve never felt the need for alcohol, but it sure was a toxic friend of mine for many years.

It took one conversation from home to finally realize the immature way I was dealing with life had to end. I’d been behaving like a spoiled child and taking my shortcomings out on everyone around me. Far too often I drank until the asshole hiding just below the surface crawled its way out. Thankfully, I have the best friends on the planet. They’ve looked the other way or forgiven me more times than I can count.

On the outside looking in, it makes no sense today is one to have me in my feelings, because it’s been a great day. The entire crew is happy. Even I’ve had moments of what some would call joy. How could I not when I’m hanging out with the coolest kids I know? The same kids who can send me into a downward spiral, because they are a constant reminder of what a genuine piece of shit I am.

As I walk, thoughts of what’s to come after the tour ends take over my mind. It’s my chance to do better. Be the man I want to be.

I feel sick when I think back to how I handled things with Mia. Regret isn’t a powerful enough word. I’m ashamed I haven’t been in contact since the week she said the four words that changed my life.

“Sawyer is your son.”

Sawyer is my son.

Those words play on repeat in my head day and night. When Mia told me I had a child. Not a baby, but a two-year-old. It hit me like a brick wall. It was the biggest shock of my life, and it took no less than a blink of an eye for all the shame I kept buried inside to exhume itself. I haven’t been able to conceal it again since.

I disgusted Mia to such a degree she kept my child from me.

She would rather walk around with a scarlet letter on her chest than admit to the world I was her son’s father.

Ashamed and unworthy was how I felt looking at her on my computer screen that day.

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