The Rocker's Muse

“You owe me no apologies. I’m so proud of you. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

We sat down, and I told my mother everything. She cried, and I held her like she’d held me after I told her the grandson she’d never met was no longer.

“Do you have any photos of him?” she asked.

I reached into my bag for the pictures Emily had given me. I’d only looked at them once, so it was like looking at him for the first time all over again. My mother’s eyes filled with tears again as she stared.

“There were so many times when I thought about what might have happened if I hadn’t moved away from here,” I told her. “It always felt like I might’ve been missing out on a better life. But I had no freaking idea how much I was missing.”

She finally looked up at me. “He was beautiful.”

“There’s no doubt he’s mine, right?” I smiled sadly as I wiped my eyes.

“Not in the least. My beautiful grandson.” She sniffled. “Wow.”

Just then the doorbell rang. When I opened, the last thing I expected to find was Cheyenne.

Her eyes were red as her dark brown hair blew in the breeze. “Can I come in?”

“Sure,” I said, stepping aside.

“Hi, Mrs. Daltrey.”

My mother nodded once. “Hello, Cheyenne.”

She held her stomach. “Do you mind if I sit?”

I gestured toward the couch. “Of course.”

My mother left the room to give us privacy.

Cheyenne took a seat. “I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight if I don’t explain myself to you.” Her voice trembled. “I know it’s hard to believe, Tristan, but I thought I was making the right decision at the time.”

“It was a decision I should’ve been in on,” I couldn’t help but say.

“Of course, I realize that now. But sixteen-year-old me was scared and a little out of her mind.”

“Did you know you were pregnant before I left for California?”

“No.” She shook her head. “It was four months after. You’d already left, and that made it even harder for me to garner the courage to tell you. I realize now that I made a mistake. At the time, though, I blamed myself for being irresponsible. I was the one who’d forgotten to take my pill a couple of times. You’d done nothing to deserve that predicament. I knew if you found out, you’d give everything up and come back home. That’s the type of person you are, Tristan. But I couldn’t let you do that, especially when I knew I couldn’t raise a child. I made the only decision that made sense at the time. But it was the wrong one. I know that now. I didn’t have the right to make the choice for you.”

“No, you didn’t,” I muttered.

“I don’t know how I can ever make it up to you. I’ll live with this guilt forever.”

I sighed deeply. “I wish you’d at least contacted me when he came to find you.”

“I felt it was his decision. I told him I’d support whatever he wanted. He was hesitant. I think he was afraid of rejection. Because of who you are.”

That was a knife to the heart. The idea that my son would think anything was more important than him killed me. I hung my head. “If that was the case, he was very wrong.”

“I didn’t push it because I was scared of your reaction, too. But I believed he’d find you eventually. I’d asked him to let me know when he decided so I could tell you first.”

I raised my voice. “You should’ve told me anyway.”

“I know!” she cried. “I know. I made all the wrong decisions. I believed we had more time. I never imagined…” She placed her head in her hands and bawled.

Fuck.