Chapter Thirty-Seven
January
Ruby
I head out of the Ladies and back to the sound check. Morning sickness? All f-ucking day sickness. This accompanying lack of energy and exhaustion isn’t helping. Shouldn’t this have stopped by now? The tour will be over before I’m whale-sized pregnant so I thought everything would be okay. I’m past the twelve weeks and I read things are supposed to be easier now. The fact my body hates being pregnant worries me, as if telling me something. What the hell have I decided to go through with?
Jem hovers outside and comes straight over. “You okay? You been sick again?” He puts a hand on my clammy forehead. “You have!”
“Jesus, Jem. What are you going to be like when I go into labour?” I hiss.
“I worry about you.”
“I’m coping with the tour, aren’t I?”
We’re four dates into a two-month tour, trawling around Europe. The Ruby Riot boys are doing the tour bus experience; I’m flying with Jem as much as possible. I received some teasing about being too good for them now I’m rock royalty, and I retorted about how unpleasant their house is so why would I want to share their equally confined space on a bus?
Jem wipes my face with the sleeve of his shirt then kisses my forehead softly. “But if you need to…”
I shove him in the chest. “Don’t start getting all ‘you’re a fragile flower’ with me. I’m fine.”
“I want to take care of you, okay?”
“On my terms, remember?”
He laughs. “Oh, how could I forget, Ruby Tuesday?”
Circling my arms around his waist, I press my mouth to his. “Don’t fuss. People will notice.”
“I think they might notice soon, you’re more than three months and in the book it said…”
“I don’t want yet another update on how big it is. You’re obsessed by that book!”
“Baby. Not it. And I want to know everything I need to!”
God, if only Jem’s band mates knew how he spends his spare time these days, I think he knows more about pregnancy than I do.
We head back to the stage where an impatient Dylan fixes Jem with a sour look. “C’mon, I don’t want to spend all afternoon doing this. Sky’s over from England today.”
Jax sits with the sound engineer watching proceedings. Ruby Riot finished the sound check an hour ago, Will and Nate disappeared to try out the local bars but Jax is eager to learn everything. He helped the roadies and is now annoying the sound engineer with questions.
“I’m heading back to the hotel,” I tell Jem.
“Rest.” Jem holds my head in both hands, kisses the top of my hair, then walks back to the stage.
The rest of the day disappears into sleep and I wake about three p.m. How can I sleep so much and still be exhausted? I head to the hotel restaurant and buy a salad; the smell of anything else nauseates me. As I look for a table in the cafe area, I spot Cerys with her daughter, and she waves. I haven’t seen Cerys since the wedding at Christmas and although she’s more approachable than Sky, I’m awkward around her. Walking away would be rude; I don’t have any choice here.
Cerys smiles warmly as I approach. “Hi, Ruby, how are you?”
“Yeah. Good. You?” I sit and put my salad and bottle of water on the table.
The kid sits next to her mum picking lettuce out of a sandwich and putting it on one side. She’s wearing a costume, including ribbons in her long brown hair and oversized jewellery and stares at me.
“Are you a princess?” I ask, feeling awkward under her scrutiny.
“I’m Elsa.”
“I thought you were called Ella?”
“I am; but when I’m wearing this, I’m Elsa.”
I don’t have a bloody clue what she’s talking about.
“Ella, eat your sandwich,” says Cerys.
“I don’t like it! The bread tastes funny!”
“Eat that up or no treats for you later,” her mum says firmly.
I watch the exchange and the nausea returns. I could be Cerys soon. Am I ready to do this?
“How old are you?” I ask Cerys.
“Twenty-two.”
“You had her young then.”
“Too young. Not that I’d change that now,” she adds hastily. “The timing wasn’t great and yeah, Liam’s not her real dad so that should tell you how not great it was.”
“Liam is my dad!” protests Ella. “I have two dads.”
“You did the single mum thing, huh? Must’ve been tough.”
Cerys shifts in her seat and twists the cup on the table. “It was, but better that than staying in a relationship that was hurting me.”
“Yeah.” I continue to watch Ella and picture my own child. Will she be like me, or a little boy with Jem’s curls? Crap, I don’t think I’ve ever held a baby, let alone looked after a little kid.
My biggest worry surfaces. What if I end up a single mum? When I decided to go ahead with the pregnancy, I knew I was taking a risk. Jem’s transformed his attitude toward our relationship, but what if he has another emotional freak out like he did over his mum’s death? I’ll love this kid whether I’m with Jem or not, care for him or her better than the job my parents did with me. I psych myself up for the possibility I may end up doing this alone though; and if I want to be brutal in my honesty, if Jem kicks us to one side, he’ll need to pay. I’ll have enough love for my child to cover Jem’s if this does happen.
Deep inside, I know he won’t. I’m surprised Jem hasn’t blabbed to everyone. Once the shock wore off, he was more into the idea than I was at the time, which stunned me. He’s adamant this happened for a reason; that we came into each other’s lives when we needed. I would never have pinned Jem as a believer in fate; personally, I believe in cold hard facts and being responsible for everything that happens. We changed to a more reliable form of contraception once things got serious and the chances of this failing were supposedly low. Yeah, maybe fate did have a hand in this.
Jem has grand ideas about buying a place in the English countryside and living a new life with me and the baby. The holiday to Spain inspired the ‘country Jem’ and I have an amusing image of Jem growing vegetables and collecting eggs from his chickens. I also have an equal image of a little boy holding his hand as he does. I’ve told him I need to keep going with Ruby Riot and the kid can’t stop me, so Jem immediately set about planning Ruby Riot’s year around ours. No tours for a few months after this one, and plenty of studio time.
For the first time in his life, Jem is planning the future.
“Are you okay?” Cerys’s brown eyes are full of concern. “You’re miles away.”
“Sorry, thinking about something.”
“You look sick; Liam said you’ve not been well since the tour started. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m going to the doctor if it doesn’t get any better. You staying with the band for long?” A subject change is needed. I’m not discussing my health with her.
“A couple of days between gigs, we’re doing the Paris thing.”
“Romantic.”
“In January? Cold.” She laughs then whispers, “Especially since missy here found out about Disneyland.”
“Right.”
I eat my salad, fighting the anxiety, and don’t remember a word of the rest of the conversation with Cerys. My decision and the reality of how my life is about to change for the second time in a year hits harder than ever after this one conversation.