Rock Him (25 page)

My God. He knows as much about my disease as I do. Maybe more.

“What about the investigational drug trials, the new generation of biologics?” Asher
asked.

“Promising, Mr. Lowe, as is the gene therapy, but there are no guarantees. We won’t
consider any dramatic changes until she’s more stable, and she won’t be discharged
for a day or two.”

“I’m not staying here for the next few days,” she began, her tone adamant.

“Maddy,” her mother interrupted. “You’ll do exactly what the doctors tell you.”

Maddy set her lips mutinously.

The doctor and Asher discussed relapse, possible side effects of the new medications,
rest and hydration.

Maybe he’s finally starting to get the picture. Like Trey did. It must be sinking
in now that he’s not getting someone healthy. There’s no way he can accept what the
future holds for me; the hospitalizations, the flares …

“What if I get a hospital bed at home and a private duty nurse?” Asher was saying.
“Can I take her with me, or would she be better off here?”

The doctor sighed. “Live in private duty RN for the first day or two might suffice
since she’s coming along nicely on the antibiotics. I can make a couple of follow
up visits to your place if she’s not up for coming in. A hospital bed won’t be necessary
if someone helps her when she needs to get in and out of bed. She may be tired and
weak if she has a flare. We need to stay on top of this.”

They planned the discharge for the next day, and follow up care at home. Her doctor
advised her she’d be weak for some time. That she could believe, given that she was
weak as a mewling kitten.

She drifted, tuning out the drone of voices in the room.

The next morning Maddy was instructed to get out of the bed and walk the halls or
the doctor wouldn’t sign off on her discharge.

They were only a few steps from the room when Asher turned to face her. “Maddy, I
love you.”

Her heart lurched and she smiled. “I love you too, Asher.”

“Will you marry me?”

She put a hand to his cheek. “No.”

He glowered. “
What?
Why not?”

She continued walking slowly down the linoleum floor of the hospital corridor, IV
pole in one hand. He took three steps and caught up to her, arresting her progress.

“Maddy, stop. Why won’t you marry me?”

She kept her gaze on the hideous lemon yellow, gray-flecked floor, then put her shoulders
back and raised her eyes to his. The hand holding the IV pole trembled and she clenched
her fingers around it. He took a step forward and wrapped his arms carefully around
her. “Is it because I wouldn’t tell Ben? ‘Cause, admittedly, that was an epic fail.
I don’t know what to say other than I was in full on panic mode. I’d like to think
I would’ve come to my senses without you as my conscience, but I’m not sure. I need
you Maddy. And I’m sorry about everything that happened.” He swallowed. “I told you
I’d take care of you if you got sick and … and I didn’t,” he said, hoarsely.

So, that
was
it. Guilt. About Dee. About her.

This wasn’t about love. Well, he’d get his out.

She held herself stiffly in his arms. “It’s not that, Asher.” She cleared her throat
to eliminate the tremor in her voice, leaned away, and continued down the hall. “I
don’t want to get married.”

He reached out for her arm again; she wrenched it away.

“Maddy, please.”

“You can let go of the guilt. Okay? I know you feel bad about what happened. All of
it — ”

“You think I’m asking you to marry me because I feel
guilty
?” He stepped in front of her and raised an arm. “Hold up.”

“No, not exactly,” she hedged.

“And I’m not asking because I want to keep Ella either. I mean, I do want to keep
Ella, but I think I’m going to have to settle for … well, I’ll lose custody. There’s
no doubt about that. Ben is adamant and I know the court would never — ”

“No, it’s not that.”

“Then what? Jesus. I love you.” He raked his hands through his hair and for the first
time she saw the lines of stress and fatigue etched into his face, his hair, run through
too many times with anxious hands. Had he even been home to shower?

She pressed her lips together and blinked rapidly but managed to keep her tone even.
“There’s no cure for what I have, Asher.”

He frowned. “I know that.”

“I’m sick, Asher.”

Now he just looked annoyed. “Yeah. I know.”

She scowled. “Asher, I have a chronic, progressive illness. I have fatigue, pain,
mobility problems — ”

“I know. I live with you, sleep with you. You think I can’t tell when you’re tired
and in pain? You may have been able to hide it from me early on, but not anymore.
Not since I fell in love with you.”

Her heart rate accelerated at his words. It was difficult to draw a breath but it
had nothing to do with the pneumonia. “I’ve been pretty healthy since we met, but
I have flares, complications — hospitalizations. This is life long, Asher.”

“So fucking what?”

“There’s no
cure
. I’m not going to get better, but I will get worse — ”

“So? I mean, yeah, so we’ll deal with it.”

Tears filled her eyes and her hand went to her mouth. “You say that now, but it will
get bad as time goes on. It’s the nature of the disease.”

He looked furious, temper leapt in those golden eyes, now red-rimmed with fatigue.

She took a step back. For someone with legendary control, he sure did lose his temper
with her a lot.

He followed, his hands closed like manacles on her upper arms. His arms shook as he
bent, looming over her. “You think I care? You think I fucking
care
about that? You
know
me. You know I love you. Maddy, I’d do anything for you.
Anything.
I never loved another person the way I love you. Before I met you, I had Dee and
Spade, and a handful of good friends. I thought I had it all.” He rolled his eyes.
“And then you and Ella came into my life and flipped it upside-fucking-down. I don’t
know what is where anymore — all I know is I’m crazy in love with you and I
will
spend the rest of my life with you. In sickness, and in health. Bring it.”

Maddy stared, tears running down her cheeks.

He reached out a trembling hand and stroked it gently down her cheek, clearing tears
that were making a salty procession to her mouth.

“I’ll take care of you,” he said, “if you get sick. We’re in this together, Maddy.”

She tilted her head. Longing surged through her as she shook her head. “But Asher,
that’s just it, I don’t want to need you more — and I
don’t
want you to have to take care of me.”

He gazed, unblinking, into her eyes, a slight quirk to his lips. “Oh, Maddy, don’t
you know? I’ll always be the one who needs you more. You were whole when we met, and
I’m just figuring it out, thanks to you and Ella, but I still have a helluva long
way to go. I need you to get there.”

He dug around in his pocket and went down on one knee.

Maddy looked down into his distinctive amber eyes, her vision blurred by tears.

“I love you, Maddy. Will you please marry me?”

“Yes.” she croaked, then cleared her throat, coughing. “I love you, too.”

He slipped the ring on her finger.

She plucked at his shoulder to bring him to his feet, then got a good look at the
ring. Aghast for a moment, her sense of humor kicked in and she laughed until she
coughed, leaning against him.

It wasn’t just large. It was hideous and large.

“Oh, God. Asher! It looks like a Superbowl ring.” She covered her mouth with her hand.
“And here I thought you had such good taste.”

He grinned. “I do. But since I haven’t left the hospital, I had to get my dad to pick
one up. His poor taste is legendary. Wait till you see his house.”

“Can’t wait,” she said, reaching up to kiss him.

Among the exclusive club of rock’s greatest frontmen, Asher Lowe tops the list.
His rarified status isn’t just based on number one hits or platinum album sales, though
Spade has plenty of those. No, it’s because he has that rare mixture of style, charisma,
onstage exuberance, good looks — plus the vocal chops and guitar skills to back it
up. Lowe has been in the news a lot over the past two years due to the death of his
sister, his marriage and a single, “Home” that broke every sales record in alternative
rock. In a candid conversation, Asher Lowe talks to
Player Magazine
about love, making his mark on music and finding himself.

So why is Spade doing a residence in Vegas and four shows a week? Your father has
always lived there but you’ve avoided the place. You’ve gone on record saying you
love LA and would never leave California. Why no tour?

Never say never, man. I violated a lot of my rules these last few years. [
laughs
] But seriously, Spade has been on the road for the last two decades and we were burnt.
This way we can perform for our fans without having to uproot our lives. Most of the
band live in LA and fly in. I’m here in Vegas with my wife so we can be close to my
dad, my niece and her dad’s family. We may head back to LA at some point. I miss California,
but it’s a short flight.

Your exploits with women were the stuff of legend and fantasy. And now you’re married?

Yeah. What magazine is this again? [
laughs
] I was that guy for a lot of years. I’ve always been respectful of women but very
open to having a good time. [
shrugs
] Hey, it was all good — the partying, the women, the road — but things changed when
my niece came to live with me. I realized that the life I wanted included family.
And a lover who cares more about what’s inside my head than inside my pants. Before
Maddy, I never understood why someone in my line of work would choose to settle down
with just one person. And I think that’s why Spade’s single “Home” resonates with
so many. Those of us who have found home would kill or die or change to keep it.

There was a lot of speculation about your wife’s health and the fact that she was
your nanny.

Maddy’s very open about her health issues. In fact, she’s the reason I agreed to this
interview. Spade is doing a benefit concert in LA on November 3rd for the Arthritis
Foundation. My wife suffers from rheumatoid arthritis, an inflammatory type of arthritis
and autoimmune disorder that affects the joints; a disease that affects nearly one
percent of the nation’s adult population. It’s a painful, chronic, progressive illness.
There are treatments but no cure, and some of the most effective medications are very
expensive. And yes, I hired her as my niece’s nanny and fell hard. I didn’t believe
in love like that before I met Maddy — despite Spade songs to the contrary. [
laughs
]

What does the future hold?

I had a birthday recently. When I went to blow out the candles, I realized I didn’t
have anything to wish for. I have Maddy and my Dad, Ella and her dad’s family, great
friends and Spade. Hey, it’s not perfect. Loving someone who struggles with pain and
fatigue on a daily basis, and being helpless when that person suffers, is tough. But
I want to be there. Everyday. There are a lot of good times and more to come because
Maddy and I will be welcoming a baby into our family in a few weeks. It’s an incredible
life, and I’m the luckiest guy on the fucking planet.

Fueled by black jellybeans and Pinot Noir, Rachel Cross writes contemporary romance
that rocks. She lives in coastal California with her surfer/pilot husband and two
daughters. Her past includes stints as a firefighter, paramedic, clinical manager,
and
Weekly World News
tabloid model.

Read more about her at:

http://readrachelcross.com/
website

https://twitter.com/ReadRachelCross
twitter

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Rachel-Cross/116558055203658?ref=hl
Facebook

A portion of the proceeds from my sales of this book will go the Arthritis Foundation
www.arthritis.org

She’s okay, Mom.

As her feet pounded out a rhythm on the hard packed sand, her mother’s tarnished locket
with its shiny new chain bounced on her chest. She held it briefly before sliding
it back under her shirt.

Kate took the first mile slowly, warming up her legs as she ran the sloping path from
her two-bedroom guesthouse to Mar Vista Beach. The surf was small. Nevertheless, two
surfers were offshore trying to catch waves. Her only other company was a beachcomber
or runner, barely visible in the distance. Heading south to the point break, she picked
up her pace.

All those years making meals for two, checking homework, cheering Emma on in life
and sports; it all came to an abrupt end when Kate put Emma on the plane four weeks
ago. Her sister, attending college three thousand miles away. Was it possible to have
empty-nest syndrome at twenty-five?

The dog — Zack, according to his collar — was a welcome and familiar sight at this
beach. While his owner surfed the break, Zack waited patiently with his tennis ball.
Kate bent to pick up the soggy ball and pitched it into the waves. Zack retrieved
it as she continued running. He chased her for a few steps, hopeful.

Some mornings Kate was so lost in her thoughts she wouldn’t have noticed if her path
took her straight through a nude sunbathing area. But today everything distracted
her, the blue gray of the Pacific, the pelicans diving in the wide gap between the
two surfers waiting for waves, and the beauty of home.

Kate watched one of the surfers, Zack’s owner. She’d seen him numerous times on her
runs, sitting, his board perfectly angled to see the incoming waves. Fall was calm,
unlike winter when storms could bring waves twenty feet high to this part of the California
coast. Growing up in Cielito, almost everyone surfed something at some point. Longboard,
shortboard, bodyboard, stand up paddleboard — there was a board for everyone. She
had spent countless hours surfing, swimming, and bodyboarding at this very beach.
Now? Despite the heat her run generated, she gave a small shiver. The ocean was cold,
even with a wetsuit. She’d take a heated swimming pool any day over that sixty-degree
water.