Page 30 of My Song for You
“No, just an old family friend. Logan’s regular caregiver is sick, so I’m taking care of him while Callie’s at work.”
“Are you and Callie dating?”
Two moms rolled their eyes. It sounded like one muttered, “Way to be obvious, Sarina,” but I couldn’t be certain.
“No. Like I said, we’re old friends.”
“When does Pushing Limits’s next album coming out?” asked another woman who was several years old than Sarina and bouncing a baby in her arms.
“The first single comes out in four weeks, and the album releases the following week.”
She gave Sarina a quick glance. “And then you’ll be touring?”
I nodded.
“I seriously don’t know how you do it,” Sarina said. “It’s no wonder so many relationships with rock stars don’t last.” Then she quickly added, “Not that I’m saying you can’t maintain a relationship while on the road.”
I laughed. “I’d hardly call myself a rock star. And you’re right. It is tough.” As it was, I had no idea how Nolan and Hailey planned to keep up their relationship once the band hit the road. Touring put a strain on relationships. If the length of time between visits wasn’t enough of a problem, you had to trust that your significant other would remain faithful. More often than not, that tended not to happen. The last band we opened for cheated on their girlfriends and wives all the time.
But Nolan and Hailey weren’t anything like those individuals. They had a strong history behind them and a friendship that had been tight for many years. I didn’t doubt that if Nolan hadn’t originally escaped his hometown after the shit with his old man went down, those two would’ve been together for the past five years instead of what did happen.
The classroom door opened, and seven kids Logan’s age marched into the pickup area. Their teacher said goodbye to them, both through speech and in sign language. Some spoke and signed back. Two only signed.
One of the teachers gave me a brief nod, and I showed her my driver’s license. I’d met her this morning when I dropped Logan off. Callie had already told her that I would be taking care of him for the next few days. Security was tighter here than it was on tour—for good reason.
Logan rushed over and grabbed my hand, then pulled me toward another man who was standing there with a little boy. The man had arrived soon after me but hadn’t joined the group of mothers I’d been with. He’d been talking on his phone.
“This is my friend, Ben,” Logan said. “This is his daddy.” There was both awe and wistfulness in his voice when he said the last word. My heart clenched.
The man held his hand out to me. “Hi, I’m Tony.”
I shook it. “Jared.”
“I haven’t seen you here before.”
“I’m helping Logan’s mom out. His regular caregiver is sick. Callie and I are old friends.”
“Daddy, can we go to the playground with Logan?” Ben asked.
“Sure, for a short time. If it’s okay with Logan’s da—er, friend.”
“That’s fine. Logan and I are free for a while longer.”
“We’re gonna see his band,” Logan said. “He plays guitar.”
“What kind of music do you play?” Tony asked as we helped the boys change into their outdoor shoes.
“Rock.”
“You do that full-time?” Curiosity marked his words, which lacked the judgmental tone I often heard when people found out what I did for a living…before they learned about the band’s success on the charts with our last album, that is.
“You mean play in a band?” I asked.
He nodded.
“Pretty much. We’re just waiting for our new album to be released, then we’re back on tour again.”
“Album? What’s your band’s name?”
