Be All Mine

One month ago, I was living in a mansion with my son Mikey and my now ex-husband Mark Hoppus, accomplished bass player for the band Blink 182. I was now living in a condominium with my son, but I was, surprisingly very serene about it all. Mark was a good guy, but we both knew that our whole marriage had happened too fast, especially for me who was eighteen and he was at least six years older than me. Mikey had just turned four when Mark and I had finalized our divorce, about a month ago. I tried everything in my willpower, and Mark as well, to make the whole arrangement work, but that was all it ever was, a marriage. There wasn't really any love in the first place.

My clock read ten minutes to two and I hurriedly changed into jean shorts and a Led Zeppelin t-shirt. Mikey would be getting out of school at two thirty and I was taking him to the studios where his dad was working on an album with the guys. Luckily, for Mikey's sake, Mark and I had never been bitter with the other, and we could always have an amusing and entertaining time together.

I put on my high tops and sped out of the front door, the Los Angeles breeze slapping me hard in the face as I jumped into my Ford pick-up truck. Mark was going to give me his Corvette, but I said no, informing him that Mikey would fly through that windshield in a heartbeat if something were to happen. So he let me get a new truck instead.

“Blah blah blah,” I said mockingly, as I switched the radio stations, finally deciding to just listen to the Metallica CD I had lying around. I smiled, rolled down my window, and sang along to the songs as they thumped through my speakers. The wind rippled through the truck and whipped around my lengthy, naturally dark brown hair and I threw on my over-sized sunglasses.

My voice was still surprisingly beautiful from years as a chorister in the Metropolitan Choir. Mark and I met there when his band was looking for a few string ensembles to take part in their older album. I was, at the time, getting my degree for voice and music composition as well as band directing for high schools or major orchestras. I had been the adoptive daughter of the Dean at the nearby college where many of the Metropolitan students were attending. I was a music prodigy at age twelve, skipping middle school to go onto high school, then going on to college at age fifteen. Dr. Maleburry, my foster father, taught me further at his school, and gave me the best encouragement to keep going with my career.

Mark asked my father that day, after witnessing me in the strings ensemble, to please let him take me out on one date. I was eighteen at the time, and I gladly accepted the gentleman's offer. Six months later I was Mrs. Audrey Hoppus, and was expecting my first child.

My dad still hated Mark and me for splitting, and he never ceased to take advantage of any silence on the phone with him. He would always say, “Audrey! Go get that fine, young, intellectually intriguing man right now! I didn't raise you to be so stubborn and full of bull!”

He especially hated that I changed my last name back to Woodrow instead of keeping it Hoppus. Anything that linked me to Mark would make him happy, and make me feel like a moocher.

Mikey was in kindergarten and, apparently, was a very bright, creative little boy. I knew he'd be creative, since Mark and I both had our music going for us and I also was a well known artist of the California area. My artwork gave me extra cash to spend on Mikey, and my job as a high school band teacher kept Mikey and me well taken care of.

Parking a block away from the school and in front of the local, small hot dog joint, I walked the block to Mikey's school and watched innocently at the glares of all the other mothers, with their baby fat, minivans and strollers. They disliked me. All of them did. I was the twenty-two year old mother of a four year old, Mohawk-wearing boy, and had no evidence but our physical characteristics to prove it. I was still wearing a comfortable size six, and had no minivan.

I saw Mikey before he spotted me, and my heart did it's usual flip around. Every mother had the heart skip when they saw their own flesh and blood walking around them. Mothers always felt better when they saw their kids' smiles and their gleaming faces light up. At least I know I did.

“Mommy!” screamed Mikey, jumping into my arms with a large and colorful smile on his rounded face. He was starting to look more like Mark and me, not just me. He had Mark's facial structure, but my accents; green eyes, long eyelashes, fuller lips. He was the greatest sight in my whole world.

I squeezed him tightly and threw him on my hip, walking back to the car with his little Spiderman backpack on my shoulder. “How was school today, buddy?”

He grasped my shirt tightly as I headed across the crosswalk, and then answered, “I got a star sticker on my reading.”

“Wow! Good job, Mikey! I'm so proud of you,” I squealed, putting him back down when we got to the hot dog place. The star stickers were for only the most participating and outgoing readers in his kindergarten class. He had so many that I gave up trying to count them.

I began to order three hot dogs and three Mountain Dews when Mikey shouted, “I want two Mommy!”

“You won't eat two,” I countered, but still buying a fourth one. “We're going to Daddy's work today, remember? Then you're going to his house, okay?”

Mikey smiled and nodded excitedly. He loved his daddy with an amazingly caring passion. His first question in the morning was when he was going to see his dad, and the last thing at night was how he loved seeing his dad that day. Mikey was- thankfully- not wounded at all by the whole sight of Daddy and Mommy never kissing anymore and not living with one another. I had explained that, sometimes Mommies and Daddies just stayed friends, not house buddies (as he called marriage). He just sat quietly and asked, “Can I still love you both?” and I almost cried when I answered yes. Like I said, he was very bright.

After I had settled him into the back and strapped him in, I got in the driver's seat, put the food on the passenger's seat next to me, and buckled myself in. When I started the truck, Metallica rose out of the speakers again and Mikey began to sing the lyrics to himself in the back, a smile still strewn across his face.

“You like Metallica, huh?” I asked, as he clapped and nodded. “Yeah,” I said to myself this time, “you're definitely my child.”

Mark was the punk and grunge music while I was the death metal, hair metal, glam rock, rock type. My I-Pod had things from Aerosmith to Frank Zappa; Metallica, Pantera, Nirvana, Pink Floyd, Slayer, Cannibal Corpse. They were all present. My very picky nature with music always made Mark furious, and he would say jokingly, “I can't buy you a CD anymore than I can buy Jewel-brand food for a world renowned food critic!!”
I always just laughed it off.

When we arrived to the studios and entered the warehouse via a side door, Travis Barker waved at me and I waved back. Mark yelled Mikey's name and he took off full speed, tackling Mark as they both laughed and pretended to beat one another up. I just yelled, “Don't kill Daddy. He's old.”

“How's it hanging, Audrey?” asked Travis, Tom standing right next to us now. I smiled at him and patted his shoulder painfully as he laughed and elbowed me in the side.

“I'm just being Mommy right now,” I replied, handing Mark his food and drink. “Been doing a lot of music searching. The high school has horrible music. Way lower than a high school band can play. They are underestimated too much.”

Travis nodded and then followed their producer to the drum room, Tom followed in hot pursuit.

“ How ya been?” asked Mark, Mikey swinging around on his right arm.

I sighed. “I think I might be pregnant, Mark. But I can't be for sure. Just, the puzzles seem to fit.”

He nodded in comprehension and then asked, “What pieces of the puzzle do you have?”

“Missed period, a bit of nausea,” I answered, sipping my drink and taking a bite off of my hot dog. “Large appetite,” I added, mouth full to the brim as Mark smiled. “Plus we did do it exactly one month ago from yesterday, and I was supposed to get my period a week and a half ago. So you play Sherlock Holmes.”

Mark chuckled and kissed my forehead. “Don't worry,” he told me. “I will be there one hundred percent. I'll buy you the crib and all.”

I grinned, flattered by Mark's caring and fatherly attitude. “You're always there,” I said. “You don't need to pay for anything, Mark. It's fine.”

He shook his head no and shot down my stubborn offer. “Nope,” he said. “I'll handle it, Audrey. Don't you lift a finger to put down a dollar.”

“Nice analogy there,” I said, eating the rest of my hot dog as a man entered the room.

He was tall, around the six feet range, and was muscular, his plain white shirt still revealing how well his body was toned. His right arm was full of tattoos, and he also had a couple on his left. The right side of his bottom lip was home to a ring lip piercing, and both his ears bore black gage earrings. He stood with confidence and ease, his dark blue jeans baggy and his combat boot untied. I looked him from down at his feet, up to his shaved head in a quick look over and felt my heart thud lustfully in my chest.

I began to cough, the realization of who he was finally hitting my smack in the throat. “I'm okay,” I coughed, sipping my pop hard and thinking to myself, Oh my god! Matt from Avenged Sevenfold is standing three feet from me!

Mikey was giggling at me and I smiled, tickling him playfully as Matt talked to Mark.

“Watch it buddy,” I joked. “Or I will tickle you until you piss yourself. I mean...pee yourself. We don't piss.”

I heard a low chuckle from Matt, who was looking over at Mikey and me,and I began to blush a dark shade of red, no doubt. I bent over, back turned to Matt and Mark as they conversed, and kissed Mikey's head. “Be good for Daddy, okay?”

He nodded and I said, “Okay. I love you, honey.”

“Love you too, Mommy.”

I walked over to Mark and smiled at Matt, trying to let him know I was friendly and that I acknowledged his existence. He smiled back, my heart melting beneath my well-equipped chest. “Should I get him from your house, or from here tomorrow?” I asked Mark.

He looked at his watch and replied, “Here. Tomorrow at noon. If that's okay with you?”

I nodded and smiled. “Sounds good to me. I'll see you tomorrow. Bye.”

Mark waved and I copied.

Matt smiled, his dark brown eyes sparkling as I smiled back and headed out into the parking lot. He had smelled so great, with a mixture of cigarettes and a light application of cologne. My heart was still racing when I got to my truck and realized I had lost my car keys.

I headed back inside, Mark and Matt still in a heated conversation as I asked, “Do you know what I did with my keys? I can't find them. “

Mikey giggled and held up the truck keys as I walked over to him and kissed his neck multiple times. He giggled and tossed the keys to the ground near Matt's feet. “Hey! Mikey!” I jokingly whined, heading towards Matt.

He bent down and picked them up as I said, “Thank you-”

“Matt,” he replied, falling for my fake belief that I didn't know his name.

“Matt,” I confirmed. “Thank you, Matt. I'm Audrey, Mark's ex, and the mother of that little monster sitting innocently at the table over there.”

“Nice to meet you, Audrey,” he complimented, smiling just as big as I was. “What's up, monster?” he asked Mikey, who waved and laughed. “Cute kid. How did he come from you, Mark?”

Mark laughed sarcastically and I giggled. “Very funny,” he said, slapping my arm as I squealed his name. “Don't you laugh,” he told me. “He's more like you, miss metal head dork.”

“So she's the sane one in the relationship,” Matt joked. “I knew you were a trouble maker when you introduced yourself as his ex.”

I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Sort of,” I lied. “Okay...yeah. I am the one who got arrested more than him in high school. But I was also a twelve year old in high school. I skipped a grade. “

“She was a nerd,” Mark commented. It was my turn to hit him, and I punched his shoulder. “Hey! You even admitted it!”

“That's different,” I said. “I was the one saying it, not you. Now...I'm going to leave for real. I have to go to Walgreen's and get some shit for home. So I will see you tomorrow, mark. And I'll see you around, maybe, Matt.”

He smiled once more. “I'll most likely drop in tomorrow, again. I have to help these losers record. So I'll talk to you later, Audrey.”

I nodded, walking away for real this time, only I blushed harder than before as I left.