Every woman wants me–except the one I sing for.
Seattle shakes with anticipation: they call it the concert of the year. They say girls are getting pregnant just thinking about my band being in town.
But when you love a girl, you don’t leave her with nothing but a ring and a promise. Any man with half a brain should know.
So what did I expect my girl would do when she saw me again?
Well, for starters, she loathes our music. Particularly the song I wrote about her.
When I sing it, the stadium is in an uproar. Thousands of fans scream my name like I’m a god–but yeah, not her. Crystal clear: the girl’s not happy to see me.
Black hair, black boots, a bad attitude, that’s her — Pandora Stone is a freaking man-eater and she’s out for my blood.
Let her come at me. Because I’m out for her heart and, this time, there’s no way she can stop me.
If I tell you right up front, right in the beginning that I lost him, it will be easier for you to bear. You will know it’s coming, and it will hurt. But you’ll be able to prepare.
Someone found him in a laundry basket at the Quick Wash, wrapped in a towel, a few hours old and close to death. They called him Baby Moses when they shared his story on the ten o’clock news – the little baby left in a basket at a dingy Laundromat, born to a crack addict and expected to have all sorts of problems. I imagined the crack baby, Moses, having a giant crack that ran down his body, like he’d been broken at birth. I knew that wasn’t what the term meant, but the image stuck in my mind. Maybe the fact that he was broken drew me to him from the start.
It all happened before I was born, and by the time I met Moses and my mom told me all about him, the story was old news and nobody wanted anything to do with him. People love babies, even sick babies. Even crack babies. But babies grow up to be kids, and kids grow up to be teenagers. Nobody wants a messed up teenager.
And Moses was messed up. Moses was a law unto himself. But he was also strange and exotic and beautiful. To be with him would change my life in ways I could never have imagined. Maybe I should have stayed away. Maybe I should have listened. My mother warned me. Even Moses warned me. But I didn’t stay away.
And so begins a story of pain and promise, of heartache and healing, of life and death. A story of before and after, of new beginnings and never-endings. But most of all…a love story.