Page 26 of All the Forbidden Things

He slides his hands into the pockets of his suit trousers, stares out the window, and smiles. The pride lighting up his face is palpable, and I’m hit with a wave of jealousy. I want what he’s got, that look of contentment.He’sbeen married forever, so what the fuck is wrong withme? I waited till I was in my thirties and still haven’t been able to make it work.

“Yeah, they’re all finding their way.”

“That’s good.”

“It’s interesting, that’s for sure. We’ve tried to shield them from the shittier side of life in the limelight, tried not to allow them to become spoiled or pretentious, to be good humans. But it’s hard, I won’t lie. It’s hard, and it’s fucking scary.”

“I’m terrified.”

He turns and looks at me from where we’re both standing at the wall of glass, a soft smile on his lips. “Just enjoy her for now. It all goes by so quickly. Just enjoy every moment and deal with the shit if or when it happens.”

We’re both quiet again for a moment, Lennon, no doubt reminiscing about his own kids growing up, and me thinking that I want Layla to grow up with siblings and wondering how that’s ever gonna happen considering my track record with relationships.

“Have you thought about how having sole custody will affect your career? Recording, touring?”

I let out a short sharp breath, feeling like I’ve been kicked in the chest. Because no, I hadn’t. I’ve thought about a million different things a day over this last week, but not once have I considered the impact being a full-time dad might have on my work.

“Cal and Jay both have kids,” is my only response.

“They also have wives.”

“They’ve joined us on tours though. Mel, Marnie, and the kids.”

“But Mel and Marnie have looked after the kids while you rehearsed and played. They met up with you at hotels, they rarely travelled on the tour bus after the kids arrived.”

My hand nervously moves from my hair to my beard, unsure of what to do with itself as I walk over to the tan leather sofa that sits against the back wall of Lennon's office, and like a petulant child, I throw myself down onto it. “So, what? Are you suggesting that Idon’tgo for full custody? Because quitting the band isn’t what I want, but I’ll do it. If I have to choose Layla over the band, then that’s what I’ll fucking do, Len.”

I watch him with narrowed eyes as he moves away from the window to the front of his desk and leans his arse against it. Crossing his legs at the ankles and folding his arms across his chest, he tilts his head and looks at me.

“No. Calm down and stop chucking your toys out the pram. That’s not what I’m suggesting, not at all. But you do need to think about this. It’s October now, you’re due back in the studio in February. Enjoy this time with Layla, deal with all the shit you’ve got going on, but at the same time, build a support network. Surround yourselves with good people who’ll be willing to step up and help you out at the drop of a hat.”

I take a moment to calm myself down then ask, “How the fuck did you do it?”

“Like I said, it’s fucking hard. Relationships are hard, marriage is harder. Factor in the pressures of parenthood, life on the road, long periods in the studio. Everything you do being scrutinised by the press and the public just adds to the pressure, but I had Jimmie. I was surrounded by family, we made it work.”

I tilt my head back and stare up at the ceiling like I might find some answers there. Blowing out a breath, I gather my thoughts enough to express how I’m feeling. “This isn’t the life I had planned for my daughter. It’s not what I want for her.” I meet his eyes again as he watches me talk. “Am I being selfish? Bloody-minded? Should I just try and work things out with Whit for the sake—”

“No!” Len holds out his hand, gesturing for me to stop talking. “Do notstay with Whit for the sake of your daughter. Your relationship will become toxic, and it’ll affect Layla a lot worse than having parents who divorce amicably.”

“Fuck me, you’ve got an answer for everything,” I joke. Kinda. I’m also in awe of this man and his take on things. When I grow up, I wanna be just like Lennon Layton.

“It’s what you pay me for.”

I shake my head. “Seriously, man, it’s not. I couldn’t afford the advice you’ve given me today, it’s been priceless.”

“You’re a good bloke, Max. I’m sorry it’s come to this between you and Whitney. But it has, and we’re here to help you through. Carnage was built by a family on the values instilled in us as we were growing up. We try to run the business the same way. Anyone who works under our wing, in whatever capacity, is part of our family and gets treated accordingly.”

“If I were gay, I’d have a massive crush on you right now.”

“And I’d be flattered.”

We both laugh.

“Go home, be with your daughter, but start looking around for a nanny or some kind of permanent help. Get to know them now while you’ve got the time. You may get through a few before you find the right fit, but when you do, you’ll be able to create some stability for you and Layla and have the peace of mind of knowing she’s with someone you can totally trust when you’re not around.”

I once saw an awful clip on Facebook of a baby being smacked by a nanny, secretly filmed on the home security camera, and the thought of that happening to Layla leaves me feeling sick to my stomach and totally overwhelmed by what lies ahead for us. But I shake hands with Lennon, exchange manly backslaps, and part on a promise to get together with Aaron and Jimmie soon.

The world needs more decent humans like Lennon Layton, and right now, I’m exceedingly grateful to have him on my side.