Chance looked our direction and beamed. The song wasn’t romantic, just a rock anthem about partying on a Saturday night, but Jenny was feeling it. I was happy for her. I really was.
I squeezed her hand and moved along with her. “He’s so great!” I shouted in her ear.
She nodded at me. “I know!”
The lights shifted and turned as Chance moved across the stage. He didn’t get the big treatment like Dylan would later, but it was a nice set. I moved with the music and let the party atmosphere take me away from my piles of work back home. Papers to grade as a lowly first-year teaching assistant at UCSD. My own courses to study for. A thesis to think about. I was just glad to have my bachelor’s degree behind me. Life was moving forward. Most of it.
Chance finished out strong and the crowd roared. They had been won over. I knew Jenny always held her breath at this moment, worried they would start chanting for Dylan instead.
He didn’t pause but went straight into the next number. Jenny relaxed and pressed her hand to her chest. “I think I might have jiggled my pee out,” she said with a frown. “No more jumping.”
“Good idea,” I said.
She moved her hand to her belly. “He’s kicking up a storm, though. The baby always gets riled at concerts.”
My willpower faltered, and I swallowed the envy that threatened to rise up. I’d been lucky these past few years to avoid pregnant people. College was generally good like that. But here it was, right beside me, about to pop right out. I drew in a deep breath and focused on the music.
My life was happy. I had Manuelito, Gavin’s five-year-old son, and he was good for me, just the most amazing kid. He was spending an extended holiday in Mexico with his mother. She would have him for Thanksgiving and Christmas and wouldn’t be back until after the first of the year.
And Gavin would be graduating soon. We’d be able to build some savings soon, and maybe, just maybe, we could get his vasectomy reversed.
I couldn’t act like my life hadn’t gotten started. It wasn’t true.
I was at a concert with my best friend, who was about to marry the hunky singer onstage.
I had the love of my life back and a sweet little family.
I had graduated — finally — and made my goal of becoming a TA in graduate school.
Everything was fine. I would not be shaken.
I would live each moment as it came. I’d keep believing that the thing I wanted most of all, a baby of my own, would happen eventually. I would have faith.
Chapter 2: Jenny
I swear I could feel each drumbeat in my belly.
The sound crashed over me, thumping through my waterlogged middle like a rock-and-roll sonogram.
I swayed with it, hoping I was keeping the baby chilled out despite the noise. Sometimes the little bub would startle at a loud noise, making a swift little lurch.
I kept my hands on the metal gate that held us back several feet from the stage. This was the first time I’d encountered it. But after a few girls had climbed up and gotten way too frisky with Dylan at a concert in Atlanta, the security guards decided to limit direct access to the stage floor.
I didn’t like it. The wall caused a couple of problems for me. One, it bummed me out because this was the last concert I’d be able to attend for Chance before the baby came. And I couldn’t get up to him. He often reached down and took my hand during our favorite song, and this time, he couldn’t.
But also, these creepy girls were pushing against me. Hard. As they jostled, I had to hold on to the gate and keep my arms strong so that I wouldn’t crush my belly.
Another overly energetic woman fell into me, and I snapped. “Watch where you’re gyrating!” I yelled. “Baby.” I pointed to my belly.
She rolled her eyes. “You shouldn’t even be here.”
That was it. I’d had it. I turned in to her and shoved my elbow straight into her gut. Corabelle grabbed my arm. “Jenny!”
“You’re crazy!” the girl said, but had the sense to head away from us.
Corabelle kept her grip on me. “You all right?” she asked. Her eyes darted nervously up to the stage.
Chance was on the other end, making his way back, singing his heart out. And I was missing it. “I’m fine,” I said, and lifted my chin.
The song rollicked along. My anger drained out of me, and suddenly I was super exhausted. I clutched at the gate. Maybe we should have stayed in the stage wings instead of coming out on the floor. I’d have been more comfortable.
But it just wasn’t the same back there. For his last concert, I wanted to be out here.
I took deep breaths and steeled myself to make it through. We wouldn’t stay for the other bands, not even Dylan. Just hang out in the dressing rooms with Chance and listen to the concert piped in. There was always a buffet and lots of fun talk. I could put my feet up and soak up the last of the fun life before the baby came.