Sad_Girl
Blue Crack Supplier
Catalina and Tequila monsters are characters which belong to me, as are Tessa, Simone, Pauley and Laney, plus any new characters which are introduced within this story. U2, however, unfortunately are not mine. They are real people who I have written about here in a fictional situation that never happened, nor could it or would it happen. I don’t have their permission to use their likenesses, but I make no money from the story and it really is just all meant in good fun.
Remember, please, that this is just a twisting, turning story out of my imagination which should not reflect upon the band or the individuals within it. It’s only make-believe.
There will be some adult themes within this story, and almost undoubtedly a lot of offensive language. Read at your own discretion.
Catalina Chronicles Book 4:
Someone else’s dream
I'm not the sort of person who falls in and quickly out of love
But to you, I give my affection, right from the start.
I have a lover who loves me - how could I break such a heart?
Yet still you get my attention…
from 'The weakness in me' by Joan Armatrading
“He’s finally asleep!” Cat announced, coming into the bedroom and flopping down onto their massive, welcoming bed.
“Perfect timing,” his voice drifted out from behind the bathroom door like music playing on a distant radio. “I was hoping you’d tuck me in tonight, as well.”
“Cheeky!” Cat accused, hearing laughter in response. She rose from the bed and shimmied out of her robe, shed the cotton nightgown she’d had on beneath it and hurriedly found a silky negligee’ in her closet. She glanced in the mirror to run her fingers through her hair once and make sure the overall image she affected was seductive and not exhausted.
She stretched out on the bed, lying on her stomach with her head resting on her folded arms. She heard the bathroom door swing open, then her nose caught the scent of hot mist from the shower, mingled with the pleasant smells of his soap and shampoo. She moaned out loud when she felt his strong hands begin to rub her shoulders, alternating between firm pressure and the gentlest of caresses.
“Tired?” He asked, leaning in so close that his breath touched the inside of her ear. She shivered and moaned.
“Not anymore,” she told him, rolling onto her side her face turning to meet his. He grinned at her, making her heart flutter wildly. He was devastatingly handsome, with his soft blonde hair and silver blue eyes. Tonight he hadn’t bothered to shave, but the stubble did nothing to reduce the sensual appeal of his gorgeous mouth and chin.
She reached out to run her fingers along his slender chest and abdomen, all smooth skin and hard muscle. She leaned in to kiss him, his voluptuous mouth accepting her kiss and claiming control, his tongue invading her mouth ferociously. He was not just kissing her, but he was claiming her as his own. Not just making love to her, but almost punishing her in some way.
Thin threads of icy panic began to drift in her veins. Something was wrong. She knew it was, but she couldn’t quite place it. It felt wrong, suddenly, to be here, in her own bed, in the arms of her husband.
Adam!
Cat’s heart seemed to be trying to pound its way clean out of her chest as she realized with a start that this was not her husband at all. She tried to wrestle out of the man’s grasp, but he caught her wrists and held her firmly beneath himself. He didn’t realize she really wanted to be away; he thought it was all part of the foreplay. He thought she wanted to… Cat closed her eyes with a sigh, letting the warm glow of passion flow through her body once more. He was right, she realized. She did want to.
No! She opened her eyes again and writhed against him, trying to tell him it was wrong. She was married! Married to one of his best friends, his mates.
“Larry!” She gasped desperately, and suddenly she was free. She sat bolt upright in her bed, gasping and panting and sweating. She glanced around herself to realize that she was alone, completely and utterly alone.
Morning light sifted through the sheer curtains above the bed which she and Adam shared. At least, the bed which they shared when he was home, which he was not. Her heart was still racing, her palms sweating and her lungs pumping desperately for more air. The only clothes which had been worn and discarded onto the chair near the bed were her own. There was no sign of any man, not even the scent of cologne lingering on the linen.
“It was a dream,” she told herself, her breath finally coming easier, her heart slowing a bit. “It was just a dream. More like a fucking nightmare.” She laughed at the thought of it, then fell back against the pillows. As her vitals returned completely to normal, she chewed nervously on her lower lip. It was just a dream, but it was a particularly vivid dream.
The phone on the bedside table rang and her heartbeat jumped up to hyper-speed again, her hand shooting out instinctively to answer it before it rang again and woke Lawry. Before she answered she paused to listen to his slow, even breathing on the baby monitor to be sure that he was still sleeping soundly in his nursery.
“Hello?” she finally spoke into the receiver, her voice sounding more tired than she actually felt.
“Did I wake you?” Larry asked, and Cat felt as if she’d just crested the highest hill on a roller coaster, leaving her stomach behind, still dangling above her somewhere. She swallowed over the sudden dryness in her throat and licked her lips nervously.
“No. Not really,” she told him. “Is something wrong?”
“No. I just thought I’d check in; see how you and Lawrence are.”
“Lawry and I are fine, thanks,” Cat replied with a hint of a smile finding her lips.
“You only insist on calling him that because you know how much I hate it,” Larry told her accusatorily.
“At first,” Cat admitted. “But I like it a lot now. It’s unusual, but not weird.”
Larry grunted in response, and Cat heard the click and hiss of a lighter as he lit up a cigarette and drew in the first breath of toxic smoke. The sound of his exhalation made her heart feel like a Mexican jumping bean in her chest.
“How about you? Are you taking good care of my husband?” She asked, reminding herself of Adam, hoping it might calm the sudden jangling of her nerves.
“Yeah, right,” Larry chuckled. “That one’s pretty damned good at taking care of himself, don’t you worry about him. This is his tour, I tell you what. He’s having the time of his life.”
“Well that’s good, I suppose. I wish I could be there to see it and enjoy it with him, though.”
“I think it’s all your doing. He’s at the top of his game; practically showing Bono up on stage. Usually the girls in the audience go nuts over Bono, you know. I get a lot of that, too; the signs and presents and stuff like that. This tour, they’re all over Adam. One night there was practically a fooking riot in the bomb shelter when he tossed a couple of picks to some girls who’d planted themselves right in front of him for three nights in a row.
“Oh! And in Chicago… or was it Detroit? Anyway, one night Bono pulled a girl up on stage to dance with him and she made a fooking break for Adam! I swear, I would’ve been shitting bricks if she’d come at me the way she went for him. Adam, though? He’s so fooking cool about it, he just plants a big old kiss on her and steers her back toward Bono,” Larry informed her, obviously amused by the story and expecting her to be as well.
“I bet Bono didn’t like that,” She said, managing a weak chuckle at the look which must’ve been on Bono’s face when a girl ran away from him rather than towards.
“Uhh, no,” Larry laughed. “He looked like a strong breeze would’ve blown him arse over heels like a piece of paper he was so shocked.”
“How about Edge and Tessa? Are they doing alright?” Cat asked, changing the subject before Larry started to think she was jealous. It wasn’t jealousy which made her stomach twist into knots as she listened to the story. At least not the sort of jealousy he would probably suspect. She wasn’t jealous of the girls; she was jealous of Adam. She missed the chaos of being on stage.
“They’re good. Nothing new really there,” Larry replied. “Have you checked on Simone and the kids lately?”
“Yeah, um… today, I mean yesterday. She’s excited about planning Lorna’s first birthday party,” Cat informed him. “You’re going to be back before then, aren’t you?”
“Yes! You think I’d really miss my daughters first birthday?” He replied incredulously.
“No,” Cat replied apologetically. “Sorry, I’m not quite awake yet. What time is it there?”
“It’s almost one a.m. I was just getting ready for bed, thought I’d make a couple of calls home. Twenty-five fooking years and I still get so God-damned homesick on tour it’s ridiculous.”
Images of her dream of Larry freshly showered and emerging from the bathroom to join her on the bed jumped into the forefront of her mind. Cat scowled and tried to drive the images away by standing and beginning to pace the floor.
“Well, you’ll be home soon. Two weeks, right?”
“Yeah. I know it’ll go fast enough; we’ve got enough shit on our schedule, but it’s hard to bear that in mind when you’re trying to get to sleep.”
“Want me to sing you a lullaby?” Cat asked playfully, earning a throaty chuckle.
“Erm... no, that’s quite alright. Thanks anyway,” he told her.
“Goodnight, Larry.”
“Bye, Cat.”
*****************************************************
“Trine, it’s on!” Pauley screamed from the living room jumping up and down anxiously.
“Ok, twerp, I’m coming,” Trine replied. She hurried out of the kitchen with a tin of crisps, a large bottle of soda and two plastic cups loaded up in her hands.
“Don’t spoil his appetite!” Simone warned the girl, watching the scene from her position in the rocking chair on the patio. Lorna cooed in her sleep, her feet kicking and fists pumping.
“Are you playing the drums in your sleep again?” Simone asked sweetly. “Daddy will be so proud,” she laughed at her own imagination and rested her head back against the back of the chair, closing her eyes. She could hear Trine and Pauley in the background, enthusiastically discussing whatever show it was they had been so excited to watch.
With a sigh, she rose from her seat to investigate further. Lorna was sleeping soundly in her arms as she stepped into the house, and for a moment she thought maybe she ought to lay her down before joining the pair in front of the TV to see what had captured their interest.
As she started past the doorway, however, she saw the image on the TV screen and stopped to stare in shock.
“Oh my God!” She gasped, one hand releasing Lorna to cover her mouth as it gaped in shock. She held fast to her little girl with the other hand.
“Mom, c’mere! You gotta see this; this is ‘Fearless’ the show I’ve been telling you about!” Pauley announced, waving her in like a landing guide at the airport. She needed to sit down, suddenly, feeling as if the rug had been yanked out from under her feet. She sat on the closest easy chair and stared ahead numbly, cradling Lorna without looking at her. She never looked away from the TV screen, in fact, and Trine frowned in concern.
“Simone?” She asked as gently as she could.
“Mom, this guy is so cool! He does all kinds of stunts and extreme sports…” Pauley was raving about the handsome young man on the television screen. Simone nodded silently and stared until a commercial came on and broke her from her stupor.
“Pauley, would you go get me a diaper for Lorna?” Simone asked suddenly. Pauley frowned and sniffed the air.
“I don’t smell anything,” he tried to argue, but Simone pursed her lips at him and he knew better than argue any more. As soon as he had started down the hall toward the bathroom, Trine turned back to Simone.
“Simone, what’s wrong?” She asked, leaning in closer and making eye contact with the woman this time. Simone’s brow wrinkled with worry and she sighed as if utterly defeated by some inner battle. Finally, she spoke.
“That guy, on TV…”
“Toby Mitchell?” Trine asked, glancing at the TV, then back at her friend. Simone nodded and replied in a whisper.
“That’s Pauley’s father.”
“Toby Mitchell is Pauley’s father?” Trine repeated in disbelief. Simone nodded soberly and stared at the screen as the image of a young man whom she’d once loved desperately reappeared.
“I told you, I think, about him,” She managed to say, and Trine’s brow furrowed as she tried to recall. Simone had said that her ex-lover was Australian, which Toby was. She’d also mentioned he was involved in a lot of adventurous sports like rock climbing, which also fit neatly with Toby Mitchell’s reputation. Trine had always assumed he was the same age or older than Simone, but she realized now that it wasn’t impossible that he might be younger. Simone was a very attractive woman, after all, and Toby would only be two or three years younger than her.
“I can’t believe it. My God, Simone, you get all the hottest men!” Trine teased, hoping to alleviate the tension a bit.
“Well, he may be hot, but that’s the only nice thing I have to say about him. The day after I told him I was pregnant, he vanished. Took off on one of his camping trips which would last three or more months at a time. No phone number, no address. I haven’t seen him since,” Simone informed Trine bitterly. “And frankly I never want to see him again.”
“Oh wow. I guess now would be a bad time to tell you I promised Pauley I’d take him down to Wicklow this weekend, when they’ll be filming an episode of ‘fearless’,” Trine said, wincing even as she told her. Simone’s face went white, but Pauley rushed back into the room, tossing the diaper in her general direction and reclaiming his seat near the TV.
Simone watched silently, feeling as if someone had knocked the wind out of her lungs.
*****************************************************
“I’m not going to make it out to L.A. to see you,” Laney told Bono from her mobile phone as she weaved in and out of Dublin traffic.
“Why not?” Bono asked, sounding a bit like a spoiled child who’d been told he couldn’t have the new toy he’d been asking for. Laney chuckled into the telephone, unable to be irritated with his reaction. She was the toy in question, in effect, and the idea that Bono wanted her so much still thrilled her.
“Because one of the other Doctors has been involved in an accident. It’s quite serious, and we’re all going to have to cover for him,” She explained.
“So we’re going to miss our chance for a whole month,” He complained. Laney sighed and steered into the car park for the hospital.
“About that…” she started, pausing to consider whether she should wait for a better time and place or simply confront the issue right then and there. “We’ve been trying to get pregnant since we got married, a year and a half ago.”
“Are you complaining? I was enjoying it, personally, but if it’s something you find so terrible…” Bono commented, only half playing. Laney closed her eyes and pressed two fingers against the bridge of her nose in an attempt to fend off the tension headache she could feel building. He was one of the most powerful, influential and well loved men in the world but still he was so easily hurt. She wondered just how much of Bono’s success was due directly to Edge’s vigilant support.
“You know that’s not true. If all that mattered was how much we enjoyed making love to each other, we’d have more babies than we could handle by now,” she told him gently. “But I think we need to have some tests done, so we can figure out why we haven’t conceived yet,” she informed him more seriously.
“Why do we both need to do these tests?” Bono asked, the spoiled child returning to his voice.
“Because it’s faster that way,” Laney explained patiently. Bono sighed heavily, but Laney waited out his silence. When he finally spoke again, he agreed to her request that they see a fertility specialist when he returned to Dublin. She had been flying to wherever the band happened to be performing for their tour every month, keeping a close track of her ovulation schedule. It was exhausting for both of them, and disheartening to take all the romance out of what should have been a tender, intimate interaction for them.
“Will you come to the tests with me?” Bono inquired playfully and Laney laughed out loud.
“I can see the headlines now!” She teased. “The trash magazines would be all over that story, wouldn’t they?”
“I think they already suspect we have sex, darlin’,” Bono laughed.
“Yes, but not at the doctor’s office during testing!” Laney objected, laughing even harder now.
“Do you think someone would be standing outside the door recording?” Bono added to the imagined scenario.
“That would be on the internet even sooner than the tape of your rehearsals before the tour started,” Laney played along.
“I miss you,” Bono told her when his laughter faded. There was a longing in his voice that made her heart ache. He had never liked to be alone, she knew; and she hated being apart from him for so long.
“I miss you, too. I’ll see you soon, though,” she replied.
“I know. Can I call you tonight, after the concert?” He asked.
“I’ll be waiting for the phone to ring,” she replied. “I love you.”
“I love you, Laney,” Bono told her, and Laney felt a sudden, unexpected swell of tears in her eyes. If she had become a doctor solely for the money, she could have quit when she and Bono got married, but she was a doctor because it was a calling, not just a job. She couldn’t walk away from it to be with him, no matter how much she would have liked to. She waited until she heard him break the connection before she hit the end button, holding on to him in some small way.
She climbed out of the car and hurried in to the trauma ward. She hated to wish anyone bad luck, but she hoped it was busy so she would be on her feet for twelve hours or more, sometimes drastically overworked. That way the time would fly and she wouldn’t have a chance to miss him so much.
Remember, please, that this is just a twisting, turning story out of my imagination which should not reflect upon the band or the individuals within it. It’s only make-believe.
There will be some adult themes within this story, and almost undoubtedly a lot of offensive language. Read at your own discretion.
Catalina Chronicles Book 4:
Someone else’s dream
I'm not the sort of person who falls in and quickly out of love
But to you, I give my affection, right from the start.
I have a lover who loves me - how could I break such a heart?
Yet still you get my attention…
from 'The weakness in me' by Joan Armatrading
“He’s finally asleep!” Cat announced, coming into the bedroom and flopping down onto their massive, welcoming bed.
“Perfect timing,” his voice drifted out from behind the bathroom door like music playing on a distant radio. “I was hoping you’d tuck me in tonight, as well.”
“Cheeky!” Cat accused, hearing laughter in response. She rose from the bed and shimmied out of her robe, shed the cotton nightgown she’d had on beneath it and hurriedly found a silky negligee’ in her closet. She glanced in the mirror to run her fingers through her hair once and make sure the overall image she affected was seductive and not exhausted.
She stretched out on the bed, lying on her stomach with her head resting on her folded arms. She heard the bathroom door swing open, then her nose caught the scent of hot mist from the shower, mingled with the pleasant smells of his soap and shampoo. She moaned out loud when she felt his strong hands begin to rub her shoulders, alternating between firm pressure and the gentlest of caresses.
“Tired?” He asked, leaning in so close that his breath touched the inside of her ear. She shivered and moaned.
“Not anymore,” she told him, rolling onto her side her face turning to meet his. He grinned at her, making her heart flutter wildly. He was devastatingly handsome, with his soft blonde hair and silver blue eyes. Tonight he hadn’t bothered to shave, but the stubble did nothing to reduce the sensual appeal of his gorgeous mouth and chin.
She reached out to run her fingers along his slender chest and abdomen, all smooth skin and hard muscle. She leaned in to kiss him, his voluptuous mouth accepting her kiss and claiming control, his tongue invading her mouth ferociously. He was not just kissing her, but he was claiming her as his own. Not just making love to her, but almost punishing her in some way.
Thin threads of icy panic began to drift in her veins. Something was wrong. She knew it was, but she couldn’t quite place it. It felt wrong, suddenly, to be here, in her own bed, in the arms of her husband.
Adam!
Cat’s heart seemed to be trying to pound its way clean out of her chest as she realized with a start that this was not her husband at all. She tried to wrestle out of the man’s grasp, but he caught her wrists and held her firmly beneath himself. He didn’t realize she really wanted to be away; he thought it was all part of the foreplay. He thought she wanted to… Cat closed her eyes with a sigh, letting the warm glow of passion flow through her body once more. He was right, she realized. She did want to.
No! She opened her eyes again and writhed against him, trying to tell him it was wrong. She was married! Married to one of his best friends, his mates.
“Larry!” She gasped desperately, and suddenly she was free. She sat bolt upright in her bed, gasping and panting and sweating. She glanced around herself to realize that she was alone, completely and utterly alone.
Morning light sifted through the sheer curtains above the bed which she and Adam shared. At least, the bed which they shared when he was home, which he was not. Her heart was still racing, her palms sweating and her lungs pumping desperately for more air. The only clothes which had been worn and discarded onto the chair near the bed were her own. There was no sign of any man, not even the scent of cologne lingering on the linen.
“It was a dream,” she told herself, her breath finally coming easier, her heart slowing a bit. “It was just a dream. More like a fucking nightmare.” She laughed at the thought of it, then fell back against the pillows. As her vitals returned completely to normal, she chewed nervously on her lower lip. It was just a dream, but it was a particularly vivid dream.
The phone on the bedside table rang and her heartbeat jumped up to hyper-speed again, her hand shooting out instinctively to answer it before it rang again and woke Lawry. Before she answered she paused to listen to his slow, even breathing on the baby monitor to be sure that he was still sleeping soundly in his nursery.
“Hello?” she finally spoke into the receiver, her voice sounding more tired than she actually felt.
“Did I wake you?” Larry asked, and Cat felt as if she’d just crested the highest hill on a roller coaster, leaving her stomach behind, still dangling above her somewhere. She swallowed over the sudden dryness in her throat and licked her lips nervously.
“No. Not really,” she told him. “Is something wrong?”
“No. I just thought I’d check in; see how you and Lawrence are.”
“Lawry and I are fine, thanks,” Cat replied with a hint of a smile finding her lips.
“You only insist on calling him that because you know how much I hate it,” Larry told her accusatorily.
“At first,” Cat admitted. “But I like it a lot now. It’s unusual, but not weird.”
Larry grunted in response, and Cat heard the click and hiss of a lighter as he lit up a cigarette and drew in the first breath of toxic smoke. The sound of his exhalation made her heart feel like a Mexican jumping bean in her chest.
“How about you? Are you taking good care of my husband?” She asked, reminding herself of Adam, hoping it might calm the sudden jangling of her nerves.
“Yeah, right,” Larry chuckled. “That one’s pretty damned good at taking care of himself, don’t you worry about him. This is his tour, I tell you what. He’s having the time of his life.”
“Well that’s good, I suppose. I wish I could be there to see it and enjoy it with him, though.”
“I think it’s all your doing. He’s at the top of his game; practically showing Bono up on stage. Usually the girls in the audience go nuts over Bono, you know. I get a lot of that, too; the signs and presents and stuff like that. This tour, they’re all over Adam. One night there was practically a fooking riot in the bomb shelter when he tossed a couple of picks to some girls who’d planted themselves right in front of him for three nights in a row.
“Oh! And in Chicago… or was it Detroit? Anyway, one night Bono pulled a girl up on stage to dance with him and she made a fooking break for Adam! I swear, I would’ve been shitting bricks if she’d come at me the way she went for him. Adam, though? He’s so fooking cool about it, he just plants a big old kiss on her and steers her back toward Bono,” Larry informed her, obviously amused by the story and expecting her to be as well.
“I bet Bono didn’t like that,” She said, managing a weak chuckle at the look which must’ve been on Bono’s face when a girl ran away from him rather than towards.
“Uhh, no,” Larry laughed. “He looked like a strong breeze would’ve blown him arse over heels like a piece of paper he was so shocked.”
“How about Edge and Tessa? Are they doing alright?” Cat asked, changing the subject before Larry started to think she was jealous. It wasn’t jealousy which made her stomach twist into knots as she listened to the story. At least not the sort of jealousy he would probably suspect. She wasn’t jealous of the girls; she was jealous of Adam. She missed the chaos of being on stage.
“They’re good. Nothing new really there,” Larry replied. “Have you checked on Simone and the kids lately?”
“Yeah, um… today, I mean yesterday. She’s excited about planning Lorna’s first birthday party,” Cat informed him. “You’re going to be back before then, aren’t you?”
“Yes! You think I’d really miss my daughters first birthday?” He replied incredulously.
“No,” Cat replied apologetically. “Sorry, I’m not quite awake yet. What time is it there?”
“It’s almost one a.m. I was just getting ready for bed, thought I’d make a couple of calls home. Twenty-five fooking years and I still get so God-damned homesick on tour it’s ridiculous.”
Images of her dream of Larry freshly showered and emerging from the bathroom to join her on the bed jumped into the forefront of her mind. Cat scowled and tried to drive the images away by standing and beginning to pace the floor.
“Well, you’ll be home soon. Two weeks, right?”
“Yeah. I know it’ll go fast enough; we’ve got enough shit on our schedule, but it’s hard to bear that in mind when you’re trying to get to sleep.”
“Want me to sing you a lullaby?” Cat asked playfully, earning a throaty chuckle.
“Erm... no, that’s quite alright. Thanks anyway,” he told her.
“Goodnight, Larry.”
“Bye, Cat.”
*****************************************************
“Trine, it’s on!” Pauley screamed from the living room jumping up and down anxiously.
“Ok, twerp, I’m coming,” Trine replied. She hurried out of the kitchen with a tin of crisps, a large bottle of soda and two plastic cups loaded up in her hands.
“Don’t spoil his appetite!” Simone warned the girl, watching the scene from her position in the rocking chair on the patio. Lorna cooed in her sleep, her feet kicking and fists pumping.
“Are you playing the drums in your sleep again?” Simone asked sweetly. “Daddy will be so proud,” she laughed at her own imagination and rested her head back against the back of the chair, closing her eyes. She could hear Trine and Pauley in the background, enthusiastically discussing whatever show it was they had been so excited to watch.
With a sigh, she rose from her seat to investigate further. Lorna was sleeping soundly in her arms as she stepped into the house, and for a moment she thought maybe she ought to lay her down before joining the pair in front of the TV to see what had captured their interest.
As she started past the doorway, however, she saw the image on the TV screen and stopped to stare in shock.
“Oh my God!” She gasped, one hand releasing Lorna to cover her mouth as it gaped in shock. She held fast to her little girl with the other hand.
“Mom, c’mere! You gotta see this; this is ‘Fearless’ the show I’ve been telling you about!” Pauley announced, waving her in like a landing guide at the airport. She needed to sit down, suddenly, feeling as if the rug had been yanked out from under her feet. She sat on the closest easy chair and stared ahead numbly, cradling Lorna without looking at her. She never looked away from the TV screen, in fact, and Trine frowned in concern.
“Simone?” She asked as gently as she could.
“Mom, this guy is so cool! He does all kinds of stunts and extreme sports…” Pauley was raving about the handsome young man on the television screen. Simone nodded silently and stared until a commercial came on and broke her from her stupor.
“Pauley, would you go get me a diaper for Lorna?” Simone asked suddenly. Pauley frowned and sniffed the air.
“I don’t smell anything,” he tried to argue, but Simone pursed her lips at him and he knew better than argue any more. As soon as he had started down the hall toward the bathroom, Trine turned back to Simone.
“Simone, what’s wrong?” She asked, leaning in closer and making eye contact with the woman this time. Simone’s brow wrinkled with worry and she sighed as if utterly defeated by some inner battle. Finally, she spoke.
“That guy, on TV…”
“Toby Mitchell?” Trine asked, glancing at the TV, then back at her friend. Simone nodded and replied in a whisper.
“That’s Pauley’s father.”
“Toby Mitchell is Pauley’s father?” Trine repeated in disbelief. Simone nodded soberly and stared at the screen as the image of a young man whom she’d once loved desperately reappeared.
“I told you, I think, about him,” She managed to say, and Trine’s brow furrowed as she tried to recall. Simone had said that her ex-lover was Australian, which Toby was. She’d also mentioned he was involved in a lot of adventurous sports like rock climbing, which also fit neatly with Toby Mitchell’s reputation. Trine had always assumed he was the same age or older than Simone, but she realized now that it wasn’t impossible that he might be younger. Simone was a very attractive woman, after all, and Toby would only be two or three years younger than her.
“I can’t believe it. My God, Simone, you get all the hottest men!” Trine teased, hoping to alleviate the tension a bit.
“Well, he may be hot, but that’s the only nice thing I have to say about him. The day after I told him I was pregnant, he vanished. Took off on one of his camping trips which would last three or more months at a time. No phone number, no address. I haven’t seen him since,” Simone informed Trine bitterly. “And frankly I never want to see him again.”
“Oh wow. I guess now would be a bad time to tell you I promised Pauley I’d take him down to Wicklow this weekend, when they’ll be filming an episode of ‘fearless’,” Trine said, wincing even as she told her. Simone’s face went white, but Pauley rushed back into the room, tossing the diaper in her general direction and reclaiming his seat near the TV.
Simone watched silently, feeling as if someone had knocked the wind out of her lungs.
*****************************************************
“I’m not going to make it out to L.A. to see you,” Laney told Bono from her mobile phone as she weaved in and out of Dublin traffic.
“Why not?” Bono asked, sounding a bit like a spoiled child who’d been told he couldn’t have the new toy he’d been asking for. Laney chuckled into the telephone, unable to be irritated with his reaction. She was the toy in question, in effect, and the idea that Bono wanted her so much still thrilled her.
“Because one of the other Doctors has been involved in an accident. It’s quite serious, and we’re all going to have to cover for him,” She explained.
“So we’re going to miss our chance for a whole month,” He complained. Laney sighed and steered into the car park for the hospital.
“About that…” she started, pausing to consider whether she should wait for a better time and place or simply confront the issue right then and there. “We’ve been trying to get pregnant since we got married, a year and a half ago.”
“Are you complaining? I was enjoying it, personally, but if it’s something you find so terrible…” Bono commented, only half playing. Laney closed her eyes and pressed two fingers against the bridge of her nose in an attempt to fend off the tension headache she could feel building. He was one of the most powerful, influential and well loved men in the world but still he was so easily hurt. She wondered just how much of Bono’s success was due directly to Edge’s vigilant support.
“You know that’s not true. If all that mattered was how much we enjoyed making love to each other, we’d have more babies than we could handle by now,” she told him gently. “But I think we need to have some tests done, so we can figure out why we haven’t conceived yet,” she informed him more seriously.
“Why do we both need to do these tests?” Bono asked, the spoiled child returning to his voice.
“Because it’s faster that way,” Laney explained patiently. Bono sighed heavily, but Laney waited out his silence. When he finally spoke again, he agreed to her request that they see a fertility specialist when he returned to Dublin. She had been flying to wherever the band happened to be performing for their tour every month, keeping a close track of her ovulation schedule. It was exhausting for both of them, and disheartening to take all the romance out of what should have been a tender, intimate interaction for them.
“Will you come to the tests with me?” Bono inquired playfully and Laney laughed out loud.
“I can see the headlines now!” She teased. “The trash magazines would be all over that story, wouldn’t they?”
“I think they already suspect we have sex, darlin’,” Bono laughed.
“Yes, but not at the doctor’s office during testing!” Laney objected, laughing even harder now.
“Do you think someone would be standing outside the door recording?” Bono added to the imagined scenario.
“That would be on the internet even sooner than the tape of your rehearsals before the tour started,” Laney played along.
“I miss you,” Bono told her when his laughter faded. There was a longing in his voice that made her heart ache. He had never liked to be alone, she knew; and she hated being apart from him for so long.
“I miss you, too. I’ll see you soon, though,” she replied.
“I know. Can I call you tonight, after the concert?” He asked.
“I’ll be waiting for the phone to ring,” she replied. “I love you.”
“I love you, Laney,” Bono told her, and Laney felt a sudden, unexpected swell of tears in her eyes. If she had become a doctor solely for the money, she could have quit when she and Bono got married, but she was a doctor because it was a calling, not just a job. She couldn’t walk away from it to be with him, no matter how much she would have liked to. She waited until she heard him break the connection before she hit the end button, holding on to him in some small way.
She climbed out of the car and hurried in to the trauma ward. She hated to wish anyone bad luck, but she hoped it was busy so she would be on her feet for twelve hours or more, sometimes drastically overworked. That way the time would fly and she wouldn’t have a chance to miss him so much.
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I didn't realize you'd have a new chapter up so soon, so that's awesome!
