The Kids Are Alright
Imperfections.
Roger kissed London passionately before disappearing upstairs. London watches him go, and then she approaches the table where I was sitting.
"Anything you need to talk about, you can talk to me or Rog anytime, ok? Don't feel like a stranger,” she says.
Her words soothed me, and it gave me a lot of reassurance. I stared up at her. There were so many things I wanted to share with London, so many things I felt she, and Peter for that matter, deserved to know. However, I knew that this wasn’t the appropriate time for a deep, soul searching conversation. Rather, it was time to explain to her why I didn’t want to go on tour.
“My life hasn’t been this stable in a very long time,” I begin slowly. “I’m enjoying being domesticated, and I think it’s very good for Pete.”
“Oh yes, it’s wonderful for Pete.”
“While you’re all on tour I’m going to prepare me and Pete’s flat,” I look down at the floor. “I want to get myself together so I can see my daughter.”
London’s eyes widen, “Daughter?” She says very loudly and I indicate for her to lower her voice.
“Yes, I have a daughter,” I whisper.
She shakes her head, “How could you not tell us?”
“I was waiting for the right time.” It sounded stupid. I knew it was a stupid excuse.
“You’ve got to tell Pete.”
“I know that, London. I will tell him.”
“So what do you mean by ‘getting to see your daughter’?”
“She was put up for adoption by me and…Her father.”
To my relief, London didn’t ask who the father was. Instead she told me that she understood my reasoning, and she wasn’t angry although I noticed that she seemed indifferent.
We talked a little while longer, both of us struggling to keep the conversation casual. As we talked I wondered if London got sick of touring with the band and taking care of everyone, most of the time the boys wouldn’t even be able to find their shoes without London. Having that many people dependent upon her must’ve gotten tiring after a while. I kept reminding myself to ask her, but the more we talked the more tired I became and I forgot to ask her.
"Anything you need to talk about, you can talk to me or Rog anytime, ok? Don't feel like a stranger,” she says.
Her words soothed me, and it gave me a lot of reassurance. I stared up at her. There were so many things I wanted to share with London, so many things I felt she, and Peter for that matter, deserved to know. However, I knew that this wasn’t the appropriate time for a deep, soul searching conversation. Rather, it was time to explain to her why I didn’t want to go on tour.
“My life hasn’t been this stable in a very long time,” I begin slowly. “I’m enjoying being domesticated, and I think it’s very good for Pete.”
“Oh yes, it’s wonderful for Pete.”
“While you’re all on tour I’m going to prepare me and Pete’s flat,” I look down at the floor. “I want to get myself together so I can see my daughter.”
London’s eyes widen, “Daughter?” She says very loudly and I indicate for her to lower her voice.
“Yes, I have a daughter,” I whisper.
She shakes her head, “How could you not tell us?”
“I was waiting for the right time.” It sounded stupid. I knew it was a stupid excuse.
“You’ve got to tell Pete.”
“I know that, London. I will tell him.”
“So what do you mean by ‘getting to see your daughter’?”
“She was put up for adoption by me and…Her father.”
To my relief, London didn’t ask who the father was. Instead she told me that she understood my reasoning, and she wasn’t angry although I noticed that she seemed indifferent.
We talked a little while longer, both of us struggling to keep the conversation casual. As we talked I wondered if London got sick of touring with the band and taking care of everyone, most of the time the boys wouldn’t even be able to find their shoes without London. Having that many people dependent upon her must’ve gotten tiring after a while. I kept reminding myself to ask her, but the more we talked the more tired I became and I forgot to ask her.