There's No Coldness In California (Patrick Stump/FOB Imagine Short Story)

Part 7

It's the next day and, once again, you're working a ten hour shift, possibly eleven or twelve depending on if your boss needs you or will let you stay longer. And with the letter you just received in the mail, you wouldn't mind. You might be exhausted, but it'll be worth it.

You're making your way out of the door, Patrick following you with Gabby trailing behind him. "Are you sure you don't want me to take her to work?" You ask him.

"Yes, (Y/N), I can take care of her. She is my daughter too, you know." He laughs, looking down at her. "Besides, I was thinking of visiting my mom today before or after I go to the bank for you. I'm sure she'd love to see Gabby."

You heave a sigh and squat down so that you're eye-level with your daughter. "Do you think you'll be okay with Daddy for the day?" She theatrically shakes her head no. "Come on, Gabby. Your dad's been gone for a long time. I'm sure you want to catch him all up on what's happened while he was gone. You can even tell him all about Bethany."

"No," Gabby whines, crossing her little arms across her chest, "I don't want to spend the day with Daddy. I want to spend it with you."

You bring your hand up and push a piece of her hair behind her ear. "Sweetheart, I'm going to be gone all day. I'm sure you don't want to spend all day at work with me. You can only play waste basket basketball for so long, anyways. And your dad wants to spend the day with you."

Your daughter looks up at her dad and asks, "Do I have to spend the day with you?"

You scoff and pull your daughter into a hug, not giving Patrick a chance to respond before you shower her in kisses and tell her you're leaving. You stand up and give Patrick a kiss on the cheek, bidding him goodbye before leaving the house.

"Mommy! Wait!" Gabby cries, rushing toward the door and struggling to get it open. By the time she succeeds, you've already left the driveway. "MOMMY!" She screams, running outside.

"Gabby!" Patrick exclaims, rushing out after her. He swoops his crying daughter up in his arms, holding her close as she screams at the top of her lungs. The two of them stand there for a little while, your boyfriend waiting until your guys' daughter calms down.

"I want Mommy," She murmurs, holding out the vowel of the word and going limp in her dad's arms, like a rag doll.

"I know you do, Gabby, but today you're with me," Patrick explains to her, turning her around in his arms so that she's facing him, "And we're going to see Grandma after going to the bank. That's not too bad, is it?"

She tilts her head to the side, pouting her lips. "I guess not..."

*****

Gabby's sitting in the living room of her grandmother's house, watching a show on Nick Jr. and mindlessly popping Goldfish into her mouth. Meanwhile, Patrick and his mom are in the kitchen together, Mrs. Stumph working at making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for the three of them.

"Mom, can I ask you something?" Your boyfriend breaks the silence that the two of them were in, tapping his fingers against the countertop of the island he's sitting at.

"Of course, honey," She replies, her back to him.

Patrick takes in a deep breath and wonders out loud, "Have I changed for the worst?"

His mom stands there for a moment, cutting the sandwiches in half and trying to figure out how she wants to respond to him. You and the guys aren't the only ones who's noticed Patrick's new behavior. "I wouldn't say that," She finally answers his question uneasily.

"But I've changed."

"Well, Patrick, everyone's changed," Mrs. Stumph tries to make him feel better, turning around with two plates in her hands and setting them in front of her son, "I mean, a year's passed. Nothing stays the same over a year."

The singer bites his lip while his mother goes for the other plate, about to call for Gabby to come in for lunch when he blurts out, "Mom, you're not getting it, though. I did some things I shouldn't have and-"

"You didn't cheat on (Y/N), did you?" Patrick's mom cuts him short, glancing back over her shoulder at him.

Her son's eyes grow wide, his cheeks red. "What? No!" He lies, not wanting to discuss that right now, "No, I'm talking about how...how I blew through all of hers and my money while I was in L.A. and now we might lose the house."

"But don't you have an album that just came out?" She retorts, "Won't that give you some money?"

Patrick chuckles sadly. "That's the thing, Mom. I spent all my money on the album and it's not selling. I-I don't know what to do. I lost my apartment, the label dropped me..." He puts his head in his hands and heaves a sigh. "The only reason I'm here is because I couldn't afford to stay in L.A. any longer. But now we might lose the house and...and I don't know what to even do anymore. I tried to talk to the bank but...they won't budge. They want the money and they want it now."

"Does (Y/N) know about this?"

"No..." He mutters shamefully.

"Patrick..."

The singer sits back in the bar stool chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "What do you want me to do, Mom? Tell her that I fucked our lives over because I was-"

"Hey," She snaps at him, pointing her finger at her son, "Language. Your daughter's in the other room."

"It's not like (Y/N) doesn't swear around her," He scoffs.

Mrs. Stumph rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "Patrick, you have to tell her. You can't keep something like this from her. You guys are in a relationship. You have to be honest with her."

Patrick groans and sits forward. "Mom, I'm serious. I-I don't know what happened, but I don't know how to fix it, whatever it is."

"I'd tell (Y/N). You're not doing yourself any justice not telling her." And with that, his mom sets the last plate down on the counter top and calls out to Gabby that lunch is ready. The little girl rushes into the room and climbs onto the stool next to her dads, eying the sandwich in front of her like she hasn't eaten in days.

Patrick swallows the lump in his throat and rubs the back of his neck nervously.

You have to tell her...You guys are in a relationship. You have to be honest with her.