Page 37 of Lies and Lullabies
“Beer?” Adam asked.
Ethan tilted his head to the side, considering Adam. “Love one,” he said, after a beat.
Adam handed Ethan a beer, and Ethan sat down, fitting his big frame carefully onto another wooden rocker, the one opposite me. Then he kicked the picnic basket toward me. “Have a deviled egg and tell Mama why you’re such a train wreck.”
I dug into the basket for the dish of deviled eggs and popped one into my mouth so I wouldn’t have to speak. I passed the dish to Adam, who helped himself. “I’m sorry about the radio thing,” I said eventually.
Ethan shook his head. “It’s okay. It was early enough in the day that Nixon was still coherent. I passed the phone to him. He made up some shit about the two of you writing the song. It was fine.”
“All right.” And now I was going to have to tell Ethan the very thing I was trying to process. “There’s a couple of things I need your help with. People are going to give you a hard time because it’s a holiday weekend, but this can’t wait.”
Ethan frowned. “Okay. Hit me.”
I propped my feet up on his giant knee. “Call Ben and tell him not to book anything in Europe or Asia until he talks to me personally.”
“All right.” Ethan’s frown deepened at the mention of his boss—our business manager. “But Ben already nailed down a few dates. He said something about that festival in Munich.”
“He needs to hold off on any more. Tell him that I’ll talk to him, and we’ll go over everything on Tuesday or Wednesday.”
“What else?”
“I need to get Peters on the phone. Tonight.” Peters was my lawyer.
Ethan pulled a face. “On the Saturday night of a holiday weekend. Are you insane? He’s probably on a golf course in Maui.”
“I never ask him for anything. Tell him it’s important.”
“Should I assume you’re talking about your lawyer?” Adam asked, his voice wary.
I raked a hand through my hair. “Yeah, but… It’s not… I don’t want to panic Kira,” I said. “I’m not going to be an asshole about this. But I don’t even have a will. And of course I want to pay child support.”
Ethan choked on his beer. “What…?” He coughed violently into the crook of his arm, knocking my feet to the floor. With watering eyes, Ethan stared at me.
“I have a four-year-old daughter,” I said. The words sounded entirely foreign on my tongue. “Kira is her mother, and Adam is her uncle. This is not a drill.”
Beside him, Adam took a long pull of his beer. “You don’t have to yank your lawyer off the golf course. There’s nothing you can do or file until you get a paternity test. And that takes a week to come back, at least.”
“I don’t need a paternity test,” I said. “Kira could never be wrong about this.”
Adam’s eyes got huge.
“What?”
Adam shook his head. “I’m just surprised you understand that. Kira said it was only a one night thing between you two.”
“She did?” I’d been starting to feel calmer, but hearing that I’d been dismissed as a one-night-stand made my gut ache again. I couldn’t sit still anymore. I stood and strode out the front door.
“Jonas,” I heard Ethan say, his voice gentle.
I needed a minute to collect myself. No, I needed more than a minute. I stood under a big old elm in the yard. A squirrel snickered at me from overhead.
I’d come to Maine for a two-day break, to soak up a quick dose of happy memories. Instead, I was reeling.
I stood there a long time, staring at the dirt road and an oblique slice of Mrs. Wetzle’s house. From Kira’s yard, only a narrow strip of clapboards and white trim was visible. I had sat inside that back room at the foot of the bed, my guitar in my arms. I’d been patient with myself and the music. I’d learned a lot. And when it was over, I’d thought I’d come away a better man.
But now the script had been rewritten. I’d gotten a twenty-year-old girl pregnant, and then I’d blown her off when she tried to show me love. It was yet another fucked-up lesson in humility.
Kira appeared beside me on the lawn. When I turned to look at her, my heart contracted. Even though I was still angry and confused, I knew I wouldn’t stay mad at her. Being so close to her did a number on me. In her khaki skirt and tank top, she looked just as fresh and lovely as I’d always remembered her. While I felt about a hundred years old.
