Grumpalicious by Mia Faye

Chapter 31

GENEVIEVE

Saying I was pregnant out loud, and seeing the look on Cayden’s face, was all I needed to know. Things weren’t going to work out with us. He was kind and didn’t rage but that was because his calm measured demeanor was his way of manipulating. Never once did he consider having this child, the one in my womb, but perhaps others in the future. The thought of his reaction triggered more tears. While he was in his office on the phone with the doctor, I quietly slipped out of his house. I went to the only place I really could go, the empty and unused apartment he had meticulously remodeled for me.

I walked into the place and it felt cold, opulent, and empty. It was perfect. I knew he had a set of keys and so I drew the chain over the door. I needed space and that tiny chain was the only thing in the world that could actually keep him out. As soon as I latched the chain into its little notch, I felt both relieved and isolated. The place had an incredible view of the bustling city below but looking down on all the people living their seemingly uncomplicated lives just made me feel more lost and lonelier.

I thought about calling my mom, but after my father died, she’d become distant. She didn’t want me to be in music and so I left home to pursue my dreams. We called each other on holidays, and she texted me about my Grammy win. She still wasn’t happy with my life choices. She’d remarried after my dad died and had a family. I had two half-brothers, but I never really saw them. I was her past.

The only person I really had in the world who could help me was Peyton. It was time to come clean and call her for advice. She had become my best friend over the years, and she was someone I completely trusted. None of what I’d been facing would've phased her. I hadn’t talked to her since winning my Grammy the night before. She texted and left messages but had said not to bother calling back knowing how busy I would be. It was funny, but the buzz of the Grammy win, just hours before seemed like a distant memory. Yes, there were constant calls, texts, and emails, and there were interviews and post-Grammy publicity that needed to be done that day. I called Kevin and told him to schedule the interviews for the following day.

He was pretty angry that I wouldn’t do the phone interviews, but I said something pressing had come up and that I wouldn’t be available. He was livid that I’d be missing so many chances to do publicity and he was just as mad he wasn’t able to get hold of Cash. It was only nine-thirty in the morning, he needed to chill. I made a cup of tea and called Peyton.

“Hey,” I started the call, trying to sound happy.

“Oh my God, you called me back.” I knew she was kidding; she knew I’d call her, fame or no fame, she was always going to be my friend.

“Stop,” I said.

“So, how does it feel to be a pop star?” She was so sweet and supportive.

“I’m pregnant.” I couldn’t play around; I was hurting too much.

“Oh...oh...okay. Well, um...okay.” She sounded more resolved. “How far along are you?”

“I’m keeping it.”

“Of course you are, duh.”

I started to breathe again.

“Will you raise her with me?”

“Oh hell yes. Anywhere you want, New York, Texas, Mars, I’m free to roam. I can sell paintings from anywhere. I’m your girl, you tell me when and I’m there. So...” Her voice dropped a little. “Cash isn’t on board I take it?”

“No.” I couldn’t go there.

“Okay, no problem. You have me. We’re good. You’re good.”

“I thought I might get Marlon to say it was his.”

“He’d do anything for you. You know that, but I think he might be dating someone. No worries, we’ll find a baby daddy for you. All you need to worry about right now is staying healthy and taking good care of yourself as you grow an entire human being in your belly. That baby is all you need to care about.”

At that moment, there was a call from Cash beeping to get through. I ignored it.

“So do you think you’ll stay in New York or come home?”

I really didn’t know the answer to that question. Eventually, I would have to tell my mom and there were so many considerations after that point. Would Cayden keep representing me? Would I need him to with the Grammy win? I could probably go to anyone...All the thoughts swirling in my mind were strangling me, so I just went with what I knew.

“I don’t know.”

At that moment, Cayden knocked at my front door as expected.

“Genni?” Cayden’s voice sounded quietly panicked.

I ignored him.

“Well, you have plenty of time to figure it out, just come home and let us take care of you.” God, I needed to hear her say that.

“Genni please, just tell me you’re in there, please. I’m about to call the police.” Cayden sounded genuinely scared.

“Just a minute Peyton.” I turned to the door and sighed and then called out, “I’m in here, but I... I need some time alone please.” God, those damn tears were threatening to attack my raw eyes again.

“Genevieve, we can work this out, you don’t need to hide from me. This is different...I have thoughts I want us to discuss please.”

Fuck, I was crying again.

“Go away!” I couldn’t take anymore.

“Okay. I get it, you’re hormonal, you’re scared, disappointed, sad. I’m going to let you have some time. We have an interview at 3:00 with Entertainment Tonight and another with Grammy.com but they are going to be short. A makeup artist is coming at 2:00 to get you ready and I’m having food brought in. We’re going to discuss this tonight and see the doctor tomorrow.”

Oh, he had it all planned. He was just going to railroad me into being what he needed.

“I’m having this baby, Cash, whether you want it or not. I’m not going to abort or give this child away. You don’t need to be involved.” And I started sobbing again, knowing Peyton was on the line.

“Maybe I should come to you,” she said, hearing the stress and sadness in my voice.

“Could you?” I whispered into the phone.

“I’m on the next plane.”

“I’ll pay for it. I’m going to text you my credit card information. I need you here.” I rifled through my purse to find my credit card details and texted them to Peyton while I was on the phone.

“Genni, please open the door.” Cayden sounded desperate, but I was too scared to care.

“Cayden, I need some space.” My tears finally were going away.

“Okay. I’ll be back at two o’clock.” With that, I heard his footsteps leave and I breathed a sigh of relief. I had a few hours to just be until my world was upturned again.

“Okay. I got the credit card info, Gen. I’m going to hang up with you right now and book a flight. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay. And thank you, this means the world to me.”

“Girl, you are my best friend and you always will be. I’m on my way.”

For the first time since six pregnancy tests told me I was pregnant, I felt like maybe, there was still hope in my future.

I had a few hours to myself before I had to face my life again. Peyton had texted me a few minutes later telling me that she was booked on the first flight out tomorrow morning. All I had to do was text her my address and she’d be at my door no later than eleven in the morning. A cascade of relief washed over me knowing she was coming. I had nothing to do but sit with myself until two o’clock when Cayden was going to come and drag me to do publicity events.

If he had been excited about our baby or even had asked me what I wanted, I would have opened the door, but he didn’t so I shut him out and sequestered in my apartment, knowing eventually I’d have to leave. That hurt me the most because despite everything I was going through I loved him. That is why I started Googling Cayden “Cash” Coltrane and found that his birth mother was not only still alive but lived just blocks away. There was something Cayden must not have told me as the neighborhood she lived in was very rich. A prostitute who worked the streets would never be able to afford such a place.

It was surprisingly easy to get her information and even an email address where I could reach her, and I was just crazy enough that day to reach out to her. I sent an email explaining who I was and what was happening. I did my best to sound sweet and loving, hoping to only have a conversation with her about her son. I didn’t expect a response and started hating myself for even sending the correspondence at all when all of a sudden I got an email back. In fact, my return email came no more than five minutes later.

Hi Genevieve. Thank you for reaching out to me. It has been a very long time since I’ve seen Cayden, but I think of him every day. I know who you are, and I am available to talk any time. Just respond to this email and let me know when you want to meet.

Best wishes,

Crystal.

Everything in my body tensed and froze the moment I saw her response. On impulse or out of insanity, I emailed her back.

Are you free now?

I truly had gone insane.

Yes.

I breathed and acted with blind determination. I was on a mission to save my baby. I would do anything and so...I sent her a reply.

I’m on my way.

I showed up at her apartment twenty minutes later and was surprised to see that the building and her home were even more luxurious than mine. A stunning woman in her early sixties answered the door and just seeing her and her sweet smiling face had me feeling better.

“Come in, Genevieve,” she said as she opened the door wider.

“I am so sorry to bother you.” I bit back the tears that wanted to fall again. “I know this is crazy coming to you like this, it’s just…” God I didn’t even know what to say.

“You don’t have to apologize. I completely understand. Have a seat.” She gestured to the grey suede chair nearest to me.

“Have a lot of women come to you about Cayden?” Ugh, why did I ask that?

“No, my dear. You are the first,” she said softly, and I felt like a total fool. “However, it must have taken a lot of bravery to reach out, so I’m glad you’re here. I’ve listened to all of your songs, and congratulations on last night’s Grammy win, it is much deserved. I’ve read and watched everything about you and Cayden and all I can say is it looks like my son has finally found a woman who can not only keep him in line but perhaps heal his broken heart,” she said with so much love and empathy, I hardly believed she was the woman who he described as being his mother.

I sat in the chair she offered and smiled. Strangely I felt at peace in her gorgeous home. “He has a broken heart?” I must have been on autopilot because it wouldn’t have been the first question out of my mouth if I wasn’t.

“Yes. Cayden has had a hard life. I think a lot of his anger toward women is directed at me, but not all of it. It’s hard on a mother to not only lose her child to the state but then later to lose him to his state of mind. After Cayden was taken from me, I could never get him back, even after I’d been through rehab and therapy. I became a therapist myself and I help people who struggle with addiction. My clients are famous people like Cayden and homeless youth, also like Cayden, but in a different way. I decided that if I couldn’t heal my son, I’d heal others like him. I reach out to him every year on his birthday, but he never responds. I’ll keep trying until I die. A mother is always a mother.”

And that’s when I started crying again and all she did was hand me a tissue... as a therapist might.

“So, dear, what has brought you here today? Has he hurt you?”

“No,” I composed myself enough to say. “I’m pregnant and the baby is his. He has another child, one he...well, they don’t…” I just couldn’t do it, my words, my mind, nothing was working.

“Okay. First of all, I know about Alex. His mother sends me photographs and I’ve visited with him a few times, such a lovely boy. And now you’re pregnant, so it seems I’ll be a grandmother again; wonderful.” I couldn’t have loved that woman more.

We talked for a few hours and she told me about how Clifford Ross treated her, how he lavished her with luxuries and lies and since she was young and naive she believed him. They had a son he refused to acknowledge and instead of taking care of them, he threw her out onto the streets. She had no choice but to do the only thing she thought she was good at. Her story moved me. She wasn’t a woman who had abandoned herself or her morals, she was a person who took charge of her sexuality and did what she needed to do to care for herself and her son.

When the world kept trying to take Cayden, from police officers arresting her for prostitution and the Department of Child Welfare workers who continually hounded her, she finally fell into despair and drugs, something she’d forgiven herself for, but will never forget.

“I’m not proud of those days, but I survived them. I lost the one person who was most precious to me and I will always regret that, but I’m stronger now and I’m here to help people who have experienced the same loss I have. So, if you want to keep this baby, nothing can stop you, know that.” She was so lovely and encouraging.

“Thank you. Why do you think that Cayden has never forgiven you?” I knew the question was bold, but it all just seemed so unfair to her.

“Because he blames me for not being able to keep him. If I had only begged his father for money, I wouldn’t have lost him. And to be honest, that is my second greatest regret. I should have made his father acknowledge his son.” There was true despair in her expression. “And now it’s too late.”

And then, since I was being reckless a thought crossed my mind. “Is Clifford Ross in New York?”

“Yes, his office is about six or seven blocks from here.” She furrowed her brow and offered a confused expression.

“I’m feeling inspired…” I smiled, feeling more empowered than I ever had been.

“And by inspired you mean…?” She seemed a little worried, but also offered a sly smile.

“Can’t hurt if I try.” I was literally smiling from ear to ear.

“Try what exactly?”

“Try to get him to acknowledge Cayden now.”

“I don’t think that would help much. I mean now is a little too late, he might just hurt him again.”

“He might, but he might not. The man is going to be a grandfather again too. He might as well know he already has a grandson and another grandchild on the way...he can refuse me, or he can face the consequences.”

“And what might those be?”

“Well… the truth. I’m not hurting anyone if I just tell the truth.”

She laughed. “Well, you can try.”

And that’s what I did with the few hours left of my afternoon. I went to Clifford Ross’s office without an appointment in an insane attempt to bridge the great divide between him and his discarded family. Perhaps my hormones were a little too raging...but I simply didn’t care.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” A woman in her fifties sitting at the front desk asked.

“I’m Genevieve Green to see Mr. Ross.”

“He doesn’t have an appointment scheduled with you.” She gave me a look that was both angered and confused.

“I know, but I’m pregnant with his grandchild and I only need a moment.”

“Okay, let me call him.”

And she did call him. I heard explosive anger from a room ensconced in frosted glass and the woman looked at me as she cupped the phone.

“I’m afraid he’s busy today. He’ll call you if he wants to schedule a meeting.”

“Okay. Tell him that I’m a singer-songwriter and if he doesn’t meet with me, I’ll write a song about him and post it all over the internet,” I said with a great big smile.

She relayed my message to him and there was an angered roar that shook the walls from which I could clearly hear.

“I won’t be bullied by a singer. Call security and have her thrown out.”

“No need,” I softly said, hearing every word. “I’ll see myself out.”

The moment was strange yet liberating.