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“I whipped up this song this afternoon when I was thinking about love.” The roadie ran my acoustic guitar and stool to me. I sat close to Gia. “This is for you, baby.”
I sang a song called “Yours to Love”. It was about hopes and dreams and my love for Gia. She sat next me in what I’d still call the second best seat in the house. When we got back to the bus I’d remind her of the best seat in the house and then I’d make love to her all the way to our next stop in New York where I’d put a ring on her finger and make her mine forever.
Chapter Eleven
Gia-two months later
Once we finished the tour, Abel flew my father out for our quick wedding in Vegas and then he shuffled him off to therapy. For the last month, we stayed in the Malibu mansion, baptizing every surface with our love, but today was a special day that required clothes and our presence.
I bounced on the balls of my feet looking for him. Dad had been at the facility for thirty days but today he was graduating.
Gambling rehab wasn’t much different then the twelve step program alcoholics went through. Dad had made it through the first steps and hopefully he’d walk the full path. We couldn’t force him, but we could lead him in the right direction. The choice was his.
“Do you see him?” I asked Abel who stood a foot taller than me.
“Yes, he’s on his way.”
A few minutes later, Dad stood in front of me dressed in khakis and a button down shirt.
He smiled and said, “Hi, I’m Frank Simone, I have a gambling problem that I’m fixing for myself and my daughter. I’m a work in progress so please be patient with me.”
I let go of my husband’s hand and threw my arms around my father’s neck. “You’re going to do it this time, Dad.”
“What makes you so sure?”
I looked down at my stomach. I hadn’t told anyone that I was barely pregnant, but it must have been that night when Abel told me he loved me. We’d bared our souls and our bodies that special night.
I looked into my husband’s eyes and said. “Congratulations, Daddy.” I turned to my father and said, “You’ll want to be a good role model to your grandchild.”
Both men stood there mouths agape. “You’re having my baby?”
I cupped his bearded cheek. “I’m not having anyone else’s baby.”
Throughout all the pain and anguish Abel went through, I’d never seen him shed a tear until that moment. He placed his hand over my stomach.
“God, I love you. I’m so fucking in love with you I can’t believe it.”
“Watch your mouth son, that’s my grandchild in there.”
Abel smiled. He leaned in and whispered. “I’ll talk dirty to you later baby. I’ll tell you how damn happy I am that you’re having my baby. Then I’ll show you.” He rubbed his beard against my neck. It was my second favorite place to feel it rub against my skin. My first favorite space would have to wait until we were alone. My panties were already wet with the thought.
Once we got Dad settled into his wing of the house, Abel carried me to bed.
He stood above my naked body and smiled. “You’re so fucking beautiful, and you’re mine.”
“Yes I am. I’m yours to kiss, yours to pleasure, yours to love.”
Chapter Twelve
Abel-five years later
Many mothers would tell their daughters not to marry a musician. Thankfully Gia didn’t have the counsel of a loving mother to steer her clear of me.
My life started the day she sat in front of my gate and waited. I didn’t realize then how much I needed her, but I do now. She’d given me everything. Just over four years ago she gave me a son. I wanted to name him Caine, but Gia, being wise, nixed that idea and Liam was born. He was a drummer from the start. He banged out a rhythm to everything he touched.
Two years later came Scarlett, who was named after the color she turned when she came out screaming. Her first steps led her to my guitar and she’s never stopped strumming it.
Today I stood at the head of the bed waiting for our third child to arrive. Grandpa Frank was babysitting. Other than playing Fish with Liam for candy, he hadn’t gambled since rehab. Gia had changed us all with her love.
