Rocked Up

And hold her hand.

She was holding my arm, but that seemed more of a way for her to keep her balance. This is different. I’m suddenly overwhelmed with a foreign feeling.

Lael has stopped talking and breathes in slowly while taking in her natural surroundings. If the handholding bothers her, she doesn’t show it.

“So what is the deal with you and Lindsay?” she asks.

I shouldn’t be surprised she’s asking about that since we’ve talked about everything else, but I’m wondering if I detect a hint of jealousy in her voice.

“Lindsay? She’s a friend,” I answer.

“She’s very pretty,” she notes.

“Your father and his team like to make it look like we have a relationship for the press,” I tell her. “That’s all there is.”

“I guess I knew that, I just thought maybe there was something there. Though I can imagine it would be tricky having a girlfriend with your lifestyle.”

“I guess so,” I say with a shrug. It’s something I try not to think about.

“So, who was the last one?”

“The last what?”

“Girlfriend, silly. You’re Brad Snyder. I’m sure you’ve had a few.”

“Not really,” I tell her, wanting to be completely honest. “I mean, I’ve had women in my life but never anything that serious. I’m constantly on the road, and you’re right, it would be hard having a real, meaningful relationship with this life.”

She stares at me for a moment, and I can feel her eyes searching me underneath her sunglasses. “Okay, who is she?” she asks wryly.

“What do you mean?” I say as I catch Lael from a little stumble over a rock.

“The bitch that broke your heart,” she says.

I laugh and try to think of who that might be. The simple truth is I haven’t let anyone get close to me. I’m surrounded by fans who are trying to get as close as possible, but I know better than to get caught up with one of them. I’ve had a few relationships with women that are in show business, but deep down they’re all narcissistic socialites that inherently use people. I’ve learned the hard way to stay away from them.

But even though I laughed when Lael asked the question, I can’t help but give it some thought. I keep thinking of my fans as one person, as if my relationship with them as one collective unit is a healthy meaningful relationship. Clearly that doesn’t count. In my line of work, you have to protect yourself and that’s what I’ve been doing my entire career. Before life with Ramsey Records I was basically a kid trying to survive. I don’t think I’ll ever stop doing that.

It’s sobering walking along this trail with Lael, no press, no fans, only nature and the truth. I want to be open with her and answer her question, but I can’t think of a defining moment, so I turn it around and ask her.

“How about you? Who broke your heart?”

She sighs, kicking a rock. “I dated the same guy through private school. We split up afterward but there were no tears when we said goodbye. He was a nice guy and all, but that’s where it ended. You know how it goes.”

We stop walking along the dusty trail and stand facing each other. There’s a patch of brush beside us where birds sing and chirp, and we look at each other in a quiet standoff, our expressions natural, our breathing slow.

Lael glances at me over her glasses, looking inherently innocent.

“Who knows,” she says softly. “Maybe you’re the one who will break my heart.”

Silence hangs in the air as I search for the words.

“Relax,” she says, smirking. “I’m messing with you. Can you believe this place?” she asks and turns away from me to look at this little desert oasis we stumbled upon. Lael walks off the trail to explore the area, letting her open hand graze over the top of the grass.

“When do you stop?” she asks, glancing at a bird flying past.

“What do you mean?” I ask as I follow her meandering route.

“You’re always on. You always seem to be Brad Snyder the rock star. When are you just Brad Snyder?” Lael pauses at an overlook that looks down over some rocky crevices.

I breathe in slowly and consider her question. “I don’t know. If I seem that way it’s because a lot of people are listening and I have to be careful.”

“Yeah, and I’m the only one listening to you right now. There are no photographers, no microphones, and you’re just a guy lucky enough to be here with me.” Lael puts her hand on her hip in a display of sass. “Have you stopped now?”

“Yes,” I tell her, though it’s a tricky thing to figure out.

“Hmmm,” she muses. “I don’t know if you have. Lie down.”

“Lie down?” I question.

“Do it!” she says, poking me in the ribs. “I want to try something. See if you can just be.”

I put my arms up in submission. “Okay,” I tell her, looking around until I see some flattened grass. We both get down until we’re on our backs and we stare at the midday blue sky.

“I know it’s hard to stop and just be in the moment, but we must. We’re here and then we’re gone,” Lael says softly as she starts running her hand over my hair. I close my eyes.

“That’s pretty deep for a nineteen-year-old,” I tell her.

“Twenty-one,” she corrects me.

I keep my eyes closed and ask her the same question. “What makes you stop? You know, being on. What makes you stop and be you, be in the moment?”

“I don’t know. I love my dog,” she says. “Maybe when I’m petting my dog I stop.”

“Is that what you’re doing right now?” I ask, referring to her running her hand through my hair.

She laughs and answers, “No, but I have to admit I’m very much in the moment right now.”

“Me too.”

“I believe you. It’s good to feel good,” Lael says, and nestles into me. We just lie there and say nothing for a while. My eyes are closed. Her scent is a mixture of whatever products she uses in her hair and fresh, dry air. I’m thinking of nothing, and I don’t have a worry in the world. I run my hand up and down her arm and fight back some familiar primal feelings, as this isn’t the time for that kind of intimacy. This is a sweet moment and I don’t want to ruin it.

I’m calm, I’m happy, I’m in the moment. Everything stops and I fall asleep.

Pssst.

Pssssst.

I open my eyes to see the light has changed. I must have really dozed off. Lael is in my arms sleeping. It would be a peaceful moment, but it’s Roar that woke me up. I look up at him and he motions for me to stay where I am.

“Don’t. Move,” he says in a concerned whisper.

Before I can question why, I hear the unmistakable sound of a rattlesnake.

I don’t move a muscle.

Then Lael wakes and begins to make a stretching motion.

Roar swoops in with a stick and pins the snake down. It’s dangerously close to us. I reach over and grab it near the head, making it impossible for its venomous fangs to make contact with my skin.

“Ahhh!” Lael screams and scrambles to her feet before scurrying away from the flailing snake in my hand.

Snap! Another snake strikes and misses Lael as she runs through the tall grass.