"Last Chance" (1/1) by Lisa Michelle
Disclaimer: This is a complete work of fiction.
Category: Kris/Adam angst
Rating: PG
Summary: Kris takes steps to forge a reconciliation between two people that is long overdue. But can the past be healed before it’s too late?
“Last Chance” (1/1)
By Lisa Michelle
Kris shifted himself on the bed to get more comfortable as he watched his daughter look out the window, waiting for the next negative comment to come out of her mouth.
“He’s not going to show up,” she said.
That was quick. “Sweetheart, give him a chance,” Kris said.
“You’re still making excuses for him even after all these years, Dad.” She turned back to him. “Can I get you anything? Water? Soda?”
“No, I’m fine,” he told her. “Just waiting for Adam.”
Bowie rolled her eyes. “Does he know everything?” she asked.
“No, not all of it,” Kris replied. “Not that the cancer’s gotten worse.”
She sat down on the edge of the bed. “I don’t know what you’re expecting from him. He hasn’t changed. Do you think he’ll stick around now?”
“I don’t know. I just know I need to tell him,” Kris said. “We’ve been apart for a long time, but he deserves to know my decision.”
“He doesn’t deserve anything,” Bowie spat out. “Nothing.”
“He’s still your father,” Kris reminded her.
“No, you are,” she said. “He’s just someone who used to buy me shit.”
“Bowie -“
“Sorry, stuff. He used to buy me stuff when I was a kid. Before he left us.”
“Adam has always been restless. He needed to be involved in a project all the time. Songwriting, singing, fronting a band. It was -“
“I don’t want to hear any more excuses for the Great Adam Lambert,” she said. “I’ve heard it all my life. You don’t need to remind me of his illustrious career.”
“He was so excited when you were born. You -“
“Yeah, I know. So excited he named me after his favorite musician. I’m reminded of it every time I say my name.” She got up from the bed and looked out the window again.
“You could’ve gone by your middle name,” Kris said.
“Kimberly was grandma’s name.”
Kris sighed. Bowie was very strong-willed. He was still surprised she agreed to be here and come face-to-face with Adam, if only for a few moments. Kris knew she wouldn’t stay long. She couldn’t handle it. How was he going to convince her or Adam to start a conversation? To begin the healing process?
“That’s it, I’m texting him again.” She picked up her phone with its bright purple case, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear as she furiously typed out a message, as all young people do now.
“Bowie, please, give him some time.”
“Already sent the text, Dad,” Bowie replied. “Besides, time is the one thing he’s always had. Time for his career, but never for us.”
“Sweetheart, can you get that big white box off the top shelf of my closet,” he asked, changing the subject.
“Sure, Dad.”
Kris watched as his daughter went over to the walk-in closet and easily got the box down. She was about five foot ten. Another trait she received from her father besides the light red hair and smattering of freckles.
“What’s in it?” Bowie asked as she brought it over to the end of the bed.
“Open it,” Kris told her.
She did. “Okay, I’m not in the mood for this,” she said, her mood turning sourer, if that was even possible.
“Hand me what’s on top,” Kris asked.
“Memory lane is not a street I want to walk down today,” she said, handing him a few of the magazines.
Kris looked at the first one. It was a People magazine cover of he and Adam and Bowie when she was only a few weeks old. The next was InTouch with the same theme. They were both so young and eager to raise a child. So full of hopes and dreams for their life together with a newborn daughter.
“I was going to make a memory board of our life together,” Kris said.
“Why don’t you put stuff on the computer?” Bowie said.
“I will, but I want something people can look at the funeral home. A computer’s so impersonal.”
“Dad, I can’t handle the funeral stuff again, okay,” Bowie told him. “Not today.”
“All the major decisions are made, honey,” Kris reiterated. “I need to have a project rather than just wait around to die.”
“What else is in here?” Bowie took out a stack of magazines and papers. “Oh, more of Adam’s Rolling Stone covers. Just how much leather can one person wear?” She set those aside and found a poster of Kris and Adam that was a fold-out from a magazine. “Hey, Dad, look, it’s a Kradam poster from when y’all were on that singing show.”
He smiled. “Y’all.”
“You can take the girl out of Arkansas, but you can’t take Arkansas out of the girl, right?” she smiled and it made Kris feel better.
“I’m glad you were raised down South,” Kris said. “LA’s not the best place to try and raise a family.”
“Yes, but if I slip and say something like that here, they look at me funny,” she said.
“Who cares?” Kris said. “How long have we been in California now?”
“Ten years,” she replied. “Dad, have you forgotten? Is your memory -“
“No, sweetheart, it was just a rhetorical question,” he confirmed.
“Good,” she said. “Besides, if we hadn’t come here, then I wouldn’t have met Taylor -“
“And I wouldn’t have those precious grandsons of mine,” Kris said.
“Which I need to take to baseball practice soon,” she commented. “If he’s really coming -“
The doorbell sounded just as she was about to make another comment about Adam. “Speak of the devil -“
“Bowie, c’mon, be nice,” Kris told her.
“I’ll go show him in,” she told Kris. “But I don’t think I can stay now. She grabbed her phone and left the bedroom.
“Bowie,” he called out, but not sure she heard him or chose to ignore him. Kris wasn’t sure he was ready for this, but he couldn’t put it off any longer. The conversation would be hard, but Adam’s reaction might be harder.
Bowie opened the front door. “I was about to give up on you.”
“Hey, Bowie,” Adam said as he walked inside. “Sorry, I’m late. I had to -“
“Spare me the excuses. They’re only excuses, aren’t they? If you really were sorry, you would’ve tried harder years ago,” she told him. “Tell Dad I left to go pick up the boys.” She stuffed her phone in her pocket and grabbed her keys and purse off the coffee table.
“Are you bringing them back here?” Adam asked.
“Not as long as you’re here,” she replied. “He’s in the bedroom.” She hurried out the front door and locked it up before leaving.
Kris saw Adam walk through his bedroom door. He looked good as always. Jeans, black t-shirt, boots. He always dressed too young for his age. Like Johnny Depp. Perhaps it was a celebrity thing.
“Hey, um, Bowie left,” Adam told him. “She said she had to pick up the kids.”
“I figured as much,” Kris said. “I need to talk to you about something important.”
“So I should sit down for this, right?” Adam asked.
Kris nodded as Adam sat in an armchair nearby his bed. He used to read storybooks to Kyle in that same chair only a couple weeks ago. Kris was going to miss that. Miss out on everything about his grandsons growing up. The good and bad. “I -“ Kris struggled to sit up and was surprised to see Adam move to his side.
“It’s okay if you need to rest,” Adam said. “We can talk later.”
“No, we can’t, Adam,” he replied. “I don’t want to put things off any longer.” He took a calming breath. “The cancer’s gotten worse. I’m not going to have any more treatment. Just palliative. To keep me comfortable.”
“You’re not going to fight anymore. Kris -“
“I’ve been fighting. I want to spend my time with Bowie and the kids. Not in hospitals and doctors’ offices. I want to do things on my terms. I know you may not agree with that, but it’s what I want.”
“What about Bowie?” Adam asked.
“She understands,” Kris replied.
“Of course she does,” Adam said. “The two of you have always been close.” He got up from the bed and walked away from Kris.
“Speaking of Bowie,” Kris said. “I want the two of you to try and get along after I -“
“Don’t, don’t say it,” Adam pleaded. “Please.”
“You’ll be the only father she has, Adam.”
Adam turned to him. “She hates me. You know that. I’m the deadbeat dad who left her and you’re the Father of the Year. The father who’s going to leave her.”
“I know it may take some time, but I believe -“
“She left me a voice mail last week about paparazzi taking pictures of the kids. She ripped me a new one.”
“It’s not your fault,” Kris told him. “Those guys are vultures.”
“Oh, everything’s my fault, according to her,” Adam said. “She spills coffee, it’s my fault. She gets cut off in traffic, it’s my fault.”
“Adam, c’mon, be reasonable,” Kris pleaded. “I’d like the two of you to try and work on your issues before -“
Adam came over and sat down on the bed next to Kris. “How am I supposed to tell my daughter my career was more important than she was? How do you think that’ll set with her?”
“Just tell her the truth. Speak from the heart,” Kris encouraged.
“The truth doesn’t make me look like a very good father,” he countered. “It makes me look like an asshole.”
“You were there in the beginning -“
“Yes, I was the fun Dad who played Barbies and LEGOs with her. Anything that had to do with play and pretend,” Adam said. “You were there through her colic and the times she got sick. You were there for the hard stuff. The stuff that really mattered.”
Kris reached out for Adam’s hand. He couldn’t remember how long it had been since he’d touched Adam. They saw each other a few times a year, but it still seemed natural, even though it had been so long since they’d been a couple. “Someone has to be the one to start a conversation. I know you can do it. Don’t you want to get to know your grandsons? You can be there for them. To seem them grow up. Not just a grandfather in name only.”
A few seconds went by before Adam spoke. “All my friends have ex-wives or husbands, but most have children and grandchildren and they spend time with them. I am jealous of that,” Adam admitted. “All I have are a lot of ex-boyfriends and a daughter who won’t speak to me. And you.”
“Me?” Kris said.
“Yes, well, we are still friends, aren’t we?” Adam asked.
“Yes,” Kris replied. “Of course.”
“Then help me get started with Bowie,” Adam said. “We’ll all meet and I’ll try to start a conversation. You’ll be a buffer.”
“Adam, I can’t do it all for you,” Kris said. “I won’t be around long for -“
“Jesus, don’t keep reminding me of that,” he said, looking away from Kris. “You’re only fifty-seven years old.”
“Yeah, well, shit happens.”
“Not to you it shouldn’t,” Adam said.
“I wonder if I’ll live long enough to see my hair grow back.” He took off his Razorbacks cap. “But it’s mostly gray now. Not good.”
“How long? Do you know?”
“Weeks or months,” Kris said. “That’s what the doctors say.”
Adam got up and paced around the room avoiding Kris’s eyes. He looked like he wanted to say something. However, his eyes landed on the open box Bowie brought down. “Is this what I think it is?”
“Yes, all the old magazines and stuff from Idol on. I was showing Bowie it,” Kris said. “She wasn’t excited about it.”
“I’ll bet.” Adam picked up some of the magazines. “Can I look at some of it?”
“Sure.”
Kris watched Adam thumb through the Rolling Stone magazines, making comments about the outfits he had worn and how young he had been. He got quiet looking at the stuff about the two of them and Bowie. Adam seemed to want to say something, but didn’t. Kris stayed quiet and wondered if Adam was going to ask about the memorabilia. “We should make Bowie watch our Idol performances.”
“I don’t think they’re on YouTube anymore,” Kris commented.
“Yeah, that would require a family moment, which she wouldn’t participate in,” Adam said.
Kris sat up on the bed. “Last week her phone rang when she was in the bathroom and her ring tone was “’Whataya Want From Me’,” Kris told Adam.
“Really?”
“Swear to God,” Kris replied. “I never asked her about it because I thought she might change it. I’m glad she had one of your songs on her phone.”
“Me too,” Adam said. “Hey, what are you going to do with all this shit?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe a memory board or a collage for the funeral home,” Kris admitted.
“Kris, c’mon, you’re going to sit around and do this while you wait to die,” Adam said, collecting the magazines and returning them to the box.
“Well, between my time with Bowie and the boys,” Kris said. “I’m going to productive in my final months.”
“Do you want some help?” Adam asked.
“Help?”
“Yes, we could design something on the computer or on paper, whatever you want. Pictures of Bowie, of Idol, of pictures and videos form tours. Family, friends, whatever. It’s your life.”
Kris was surprised since Adam had just found out Kris’s cancer was terminal and now he was offering to help him with this final project.
“Bowie comes over at least twice a week,” Kris told him.
“Well, then she might see me,” Adam replied. “If it’s okay with you, that is.”
“I would like some help, someone that has been there through everything with me,” Kris confessed. “The man that witnessed my music career take off. You gave me so much strength back then.” Kris wiped at his eyes. “Then gave me my daughter.”
Adam climbed over to Kris and put his arms around him. “We’re going to get through this, baby,” he whispered against Kris’s ear. “I’m going to do all I can to help you and Bowie.”
“Bowie needs both of her fathers,” Kris said.
“I’m going to try as hard as I can to make her understand we can have another chance,” Adam said. “We all can.”
****
END (1/1)
Category: Kris/Adam angst
Rating: PG
Summary: Kris takes steps to forge a reconciliation between two people that is long overdue. But can the past be healed before it’s too late?
“Last Chance” (1/1)
By Lisa Michelle
Kris shifted himself on the bed to get more comfortable as he watched his daughter look out the window, waiting for the next negative comment to come out of her mouth.
“He’s not going to show up,” she said.
That was quick. “Sweetheart, give him a chance,” Kris said.
“You’re still making excuses for him even after all these years, Dad.” She turned back to him. “Can I get you anything? Water? Soda?”
“No, I’m fine,” he told her. “Just waiting for Adam.”
Bowie rolled her eyes. “Does he know everything?” she asked.
“No, not all of it,” Kris replied. “Not that the cancer’s gotten worse.”
She sat down on the edge of the bed. “I don’t know what you’re expecting from him. He hasn’t changed. Do you think he’ll stick around now?”
“I don’t know. I just know I need to tell him,” Kris said. “We’ve been apart for a long time, but he deserves to know my decision.”
“He doesn’t deserve anything,” Bowie spat out. “Nothing.”
“He’s still your father,” Kris reminded her.
“No, you are,” she said. “He’s just someone who used to buy me shit.”
“Bowie -“
“Sorry, stuff. He used to buy me stuff when I was a kid. Before he left us.”
“Adam has always been restless. He needed to be involved in a project all the time. Songwriting, singing, fronting a band. It was -“
“I don’t want to hear any more excuses for the Great Adam Lambert,” she said. “I’ve heard it all my life. You don’t need to remind me of his illustrious career.”
“He was so excited when you were born. You -“
“Yeah, I know. So excited he named me after his favorite musician. I’m reminded of it every time I say my name.” She got up from the bed and looked out the window again.
“You could’ve gone by your middle name,” Kris said.
“Kimberly was grandma’s name.”
Kris sighed. Bowie was very strong-willed. He was still surprised she agreed to be here and come face-to-face with Adam, if only for a few moments. Kris knew she wouldn’t stay long. She couldn’t handle it. How was he going to convince her or Adam to start a conversation? To begin the healing process?
“That’s it, I’m texting him again.” She picked up her phone with its bright purple case, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear as she furiously typed out a message, as all young people do now.
“Bowie, please, give him some time.”
“Already sent the text, Dad,” Bowie replied. “Besides, time is the one thing he’s always had. Time for his career, but never for us.”
“Sweetheart, can you get that big white box off the top shelf of my closet,” he asked, changing the subject.
“Sure, Dad.”
Kris watched as his daughter went over to the walk-in closet and easily got the box down. She was about five foot ten. Another trait she received from her father besides the light red hair and smattering of freckles.
“What’s in it?” Bowie asked as she brought it over to the end of the bed.
“Open it,” Kris told her.
She did. “Okay, I’m not in the mood for this,” she said, her mood turning sourer, if that was even possible.
“Hand me what’s on top,” Kris asked.
“Memory lane is not a street I want to walk down today,” she said, handing him a few of the magazines.
Kris looked at the first one. It was a People magazine cover of he and Adam and Bowie when she was only a few weeks old. The next was InTouch with the same theme. They were both so young and eager to raise a child. So full of hopes and dreams for their life together with a newborn daughter.
“I was going to make a memory board of our life together,” Kris said.
“Why don’t you put stuff on the computer?” Bowie said.
“I will, but I want something people can look at the funeral home. A computer’s so impersonal.”
“Dad, I can’t handle the funeral stuff again, okay,” Bowie told him. “Not today.”
“All the major decisions are made, honey,” Kris reiterated. “I need to have a project rather than just wait around to die.”
“What else is in here?” Bowie took out a stack of magazines and papers. “Oh, more of Adam’s Rolling Stone covers. Just how much leather can one person wear?” She set those aside and found a poster of Kris and Adam that was a fold-out from a magazine. “Hey, Dad, look, it’s a Kradam poster from when y’all were on that singing show.”
He smiled. “Y’all.”
“You can take the girl out of Arkansas, but you can’t take Arkansas out of the girl, right?” she smiled and it made Kris feel better.
“I’m glad you were raised down South,” Kris said. “LA’s not the best place to try and raise a family.”
“Yes, but if I slip and say something like that here, they look at me funny,” she said.
“Who cares?” Kris said. “How long have we been in California now?”
“Ten years,” she replied. “Dad, have you forgotten? Is your memory -“
“No, sweetheart, it was just a rhetorical question,” he confirmed.
“Good,” she said. “Besides, if we hadn’t come here, then I wouldn’t have met Taylor -“
“And I wouldn’t have those precious grandsons of mine,” Kris said.
“Which I need to take to baseball practice soon,” she commented. “If he’s really coming -“
The doorbell sounded just as she was about to make another comment about Adam. “Speak of the devil -“
“Bowie, c’mon, be nice,” Kris told her.
“I’ll go show him in,” she told Kris. “But I don’t think I can stay now. She grabbed her phone and left the bedroom.
“Bowie,” he called out, but not sure she heard him or chose to ignore him. Kris wasn’t sure he was ready for this, but he couldn’t put it off any longer. The conversation would be hard, but Adam’s reaction might be harder.
Bowie opened the front door. “I was about to give up on you.”
“Hey, Bowie,” Adam said as he walked inside. “Sorry, I’m late. I had to -“
“Spare me the excuses. They’re only excuses, aren’t they? If you really were sorry, you would’ve tried harder years ago,” she told him. “Tell Dad I left to go pick up the boys.” She stuffed her phone in her pocket and grabbed her keys and purse off the coffee table.
“Are you bringing them back here?” Adam asked.
“Not as long as you’re here,” she replied. “He’s in the bedroom.” She hurried out the front door and locked it up before leaving.
Kris saw Adam walk through his bedroom door. He looked good as always. Jeans, black t-shirt, boots. He always dressed too young for his age. Like Johnny Depp. Perhaps it was a celebrity thing.
“Hey, um, Bowie left,” Adam told him. “She said she had to pick up the kids.”
“I figured as much,” Kris said. “I need to talk to you about something important.”
“So I should sit down for this, right?” Adam asked.
Kris nodded as Adam sat in an armchair nearby his bed. He used to read storybooks to Kyle in that same chair only a couple weeks ago. Kris was going to miss that. Miss out on everything about his grandsons growing up. The good and bad. “I -“ Kris struggled to sit up and was surprised to see Adam move to his side.
“It’s okay if you need to rest,” Adam said. “We can talk later.”
“No, we can’t, Adam,” he replied. “I don’t want to put things off any longer.” He took a calming breath. “The cancer’s gotten worse. I’m not going to have any more treatment. Just palliative. To keep me comfortable.”
“You’re not going to fight anymore. Kris -“
“I’ve been fighting. I want to spend my time with Bowie and the kids. Not in hospitals and doctors’ offices. I want to do things on my terms. I know you may not agree with that, but it’s what I want.”
“What about Bowie?” Adam asked.
“She understands,” Kris replied.
“Of course she does,” Adam said. “The two of you have always been close.” He got up from the bed and walked away from Kris.
“Speaking of Bowie,” Kris said. “I want the two of you to try and get along after I -“
“Don’t, don’t say it,” Adam pleaded. “Please.”
“You’ll be the only father she has, Adam.”
Adam turned to him. “She hates me. You know that. I’m the deadbeat dad who left her and you’re the Father of the Year. The father who’s going to leave her.”
“I know it may take some time, but I believe -“
“She left me a voice mail last week about paparazzi taking pictures of the kids. She ripped me a new one.”
“It’s not your fault,” Kris told him. “Those guys are vultures.”
“Oh, everything’s my fault, according to her,” Adam said. “She spills coffee, it’s my fault. She gets cut off in traffic, it’s my fault.”
“Adam, c’mon, be reasonable,” Kris pleaded. “I’d like the two of you to try and work on your issues before -“
Adam came over and sat down on the bed next to Kris. “How am I supposed to tell my daughter my career was more important than she was? How do you think that’ll set with her?”
“Just tell her the truth. Speak from the heart,” Kris encouraged.
“The truth doesn’t make me look like a very good father,” he countered. “It makes me look like an asshole.”
“You were there in the beginning -“
“Yes, I was the fun Dad who played Barbies and LEGOs with her. Anything that had to do with play and pretend,” Adam said. “You were there through her colic and the times she got sick. You were there for the hard stuff. The stuff that really mattered.”
Kris reached out for Adam’s hand. He couldn’t remember how long it had been since he’d touched Adam. They saw each other a few times a year, but it still seemed natural, even though it had been so long since they’d been a couple. “Someone has to be the one to start a conversation. I know you can do it. Don’t you want to get to know your grandsons? You can be there for them. To seem them grow up. Not just a grandfather in name only.”
A few seconds went by before Adam spoke. “All my friends have ex-wives or husbands, but most have children and grandchildren and they spend time with them. I am jealous of that,” Adam admitted. “All I have are a lot of ex-boyfriends and a daughter who won’t speak to me. And you.”
“Me?” Kris said.
“Yes, well, we are still friends, aren’t we?” Adam asked.
“Yes,” Kris replied. “Of course.”
“Then help me get started with Bowie,” Adam said. “We’ll all meet and I’ll try to start a conversation. You’ll be a buffer.”
“Adam, I can’t do it all for you,” Kris said. “I won’t be around long for -“
“Jesus, don’t keep reminding me of that,” he said, looking away from Kris. “You’re only fifty-seven years old.”
“Yeah, well, shit happens.”
“Not to you it shouldn’t,” Adam said.
“I wonder if I’ll live long enough to see my hair grow back.” He took off his Razorbacks cap. “But it’s mostly gray now. Not good.”
“How long? Do you know?”
“Weeks or months,” Kris said. “That’s what the doctors say.”
Adam got up and paced around the room avoiding Kris’s eyes. He looked like he wanted to say something. However, his eyes landed on the open box Bowie brought down. “Is this what I think it is?”
“Yes, all the old magazines and stuff from Idol on. I was showing Bowie it,” Kris said. “She wasn’t excited about it.”
“I’ll bet.” Adam picked up some of the magazines. “Can I look at some of it?”
“Sure.”
Kris watched Adam thumb through the Rolling Stone magazines, making comments about the outfits he had worn and how young he had been. He got quiet looking at the stuff about the two of them and Bowie. Adam seemed to want to say something, but didn’t. Kris stayed quiet and wondered if Adam was going to ask about the memorabilia. “We should make Bowie watch our Idol performances.”
“I don’t think they’re on YouTube anymore,” Kris commented.
“Yeah, that would require a family moment, which she wouldn’t participate in,” Adam said.
Kris sat up on the bed. “Last week her phone rang when she was in the bathroom and her ring tone was “’Whataya Want From Me’,” Kris told Adam.
“Really?”
“Swear to God,” Kris replied. “I never asked her about it because I thought she might change it. I’m glad she had one of your songs on her phone.”
“Me too,” Adam said. “Hey, what are you going to do with all this shit?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe a memory board or a collage for the funeral home,” Kris admitted.
“Kris, c’mon, you’re going to sit around and do this while you wait to die,” Adam said, collecting the magazines and returning them to the box.
“Well, between my time with Bowie and the boys,” Kris said. “I’m going to productive in my final months.”
“Do you want some help?” Adam asked.
“Help?”
“Yes, we could design something on the computer or on paper, whatever you want. Pictures of Bowie, of Idol, of pictures and videos form tours. Family, friends, whatever. It’s your life.”
Kris was surprised since Adam had just found out Kris’s cancer was terminal and now he was offering to help him with this final project.
“Bowie comes over at least twice a week,” Kris told him.
“Well, then she might see me,” Adam replied. “If it’s okay with you, that is.”
“I would like some help, someone that has been there through everything with me,” Kris confessed. “The man that witnessed my music career take off. You gave me so much strength back then.” Kris wiped at his eyes. “Then gave me my daughter.”
Adam climbed over to Kris and put his arms around him. “We’re going to get through this, baby,” he whispered against Kris’s ear. “I’m going to do all I can to help you and Bowie.”
“Bowie needs both of her fathers,” Kris said.
“I’m going to try as hard as I can to make her understand we can have another chance,” Adam said. “We all can.”
****
END (1/1)