Rocked Up

Yuss! We are on our way!!

Although I want to get to the theater to share the excitement and check out the new mixing desk, I stay here a little longer. My young Emma is peacefully sleeping on my chest and I don’t want to wake her yet. Or maybe I delay getting up because I want to make this moment stretch because I am enjoying my time with her. Today is a special day and not only because of the mixing desk.

I’ve never felt more at home than I do here. Lael often talks about moving to a bigger place but I want to keep things the way they are for as long as I can. Deep down I know it feels so good here because of Lael and Emma and has little to do with the actual house. I’m sure it will feel more or less the same wherever we are. I just don’t feel the need to move to a big fancy place. It probably helps that we renovated the space above the recording studio into a condo. Lael loves having a place in the city and I do as well. I have a feeling the next few chapters of our lives will be set in the theater, the recording studio, and the condo. I’m excited about the future, I’m excited about today.

I start getting things together; it’s a slow process but I’ve learned not to rush. One thing at a time and it all gets done. It’s taken me some time to learn this patience

Once I locked Emma in the car with the keys in the ignition. I had to call for help, Lael doesn’t know that happened. Maybe one day when we are old and grey I’ll tell her.

I keep on checking my pocket to make sure of something; for a moment I don’t feel it and my heart skips a beat. But then I find it.

I slowly exhale.

It’s still there. I repeat this many times.

Emma somehow stays asleep while I strap her into her seat. I check my pocket one more time before sliding in behind the wheel. I finally have a driver’s license, Carlos guided me through the process of what he calls being a mortal. Getting my license was at the top of the list. I mean, the guy actually made a list. I think it’s safe to say I’m his favorite client.

I glance at sleeping Emma in my review mirror and pull away. Yes, today is a special day.

I make my way through the winding road, over the hills to the city where she waits. It’s rare that there’s parking available on the street in front of the theater but it’s a quiet evening and there is the perfect spot waiting for me. I repeat the process of getting Emma into the car but in reverse. I have her in my arms, her bag over my shoulder and of course I have to check my pocket a couple more times.

The theater looks basically the same, save the new name: The Francesca Theater. I must admit I like the name and what it represents.

Ronald and I have a long way to go, but we have a working relationship now. He actually helped find the infamous mixing desk that is waiting for me. Ronald doesn’t get involved for the most part, but he softened up quite a bit when Emma was born.

And Then is a brand that Ronald and his creative team came up with in a board room. I’m proud of the music I’ve made, I’m proud of every note. But there is no way I can go forward with that name. I release music under my own name now.

Switch wasn’t crazy about the idea of releasing under my name at first, but he seems to have gotten used to it. I don’t play with Calvi anymore, obviously, it seems to be better that way. We don’t have bad blood, per se, we have a lot of history together. But I can’t trust a guy like that.

I’m happy Switch is staying with me though, people don’t realize how much a drummer changes the sound of a band. I like the way he plays, he makes me sound better.

You can get to the studio from the side entrance, but I choose to go through the theater. As I swing open the door I think about how rare it is that the door is locked. This place always seems to be open, like a library, or a hospital, or a 24-hour diner that never sleeps.

“Hey boss.” An old friend that has worked for this theater longer then I’ve been alive holds the door for me while I enter the foyer.

I laugh dismissively at being addressed as boss. I can’t say I’m not moved by the support the staff are giving me, though. They know where I’m from, where I’ve been, and who I’m trying to be. I could leave for a tour or a family vacation and not have to worry for a moment about the theater. I need them more than they need me.

I do sometimes worry about them pushing themselves too much so I hired one of their nephews who is more brawn than brain to help out with that.

“Look, boss, my daughter is visiting with her family from Vermont tomorrow, do you think I can have the day off?” he asks then shares a smile with Emma.

“You know what, I haven’t worked the board in ages, I’ll come in tomorrow,” I tell him.

“Great, thanks boss,” he says as he very slowly waddles away. I feel like all the old staff had a private conversation and agreed they wouldn’t call me Kid anymore.

Emma and I take a moment to check on the main hall. I walk through the doors and make my way to the sound desk, I take a seat in the same old chair Mr. Robson would sit at.

“What do you think?” I ask her. “Kind of romantic in a way, owning a theater like this. Your daddy used to live here most of the time and the first time I played was up there. There was a man that worked right where we are that was very special to me and I wish you could have met him, I really do.” I speak to her in a calm baby voice and she laughs back. I feel a pang of emotion in my heart thinking about how proud Mr. Robson would have been.

My excitement is pulling me to the construction site that is the new studio. I enjoy the moment I’m having with Emma so I don’t rush out. She really is teaching me about patience.

I slowly make my way to the new studio where Lael is waiting.

To get to the studio from inside the theater I have to go into the ticket office, and through the newly-created door that joins the two structures. They did their best to make the door look like it was always there, but the door handle and lock look cheap and modern.

I will have that changed, I think to myself. I check my pocket once again, it is still there, right where I put it.

Once in the studio side the feeling is different. It smells of construction; it’s the familiar smell when a very old room or building is being renovated. A mix of new wood being cut and old material being torn down. The studio is very close to being completed but there are signs of destruction everywhere. Tools, buckets, rolls of plastic. Another few days and Lael will be hanging pictures and making other final touches. She’s really good at creating a home. She calls it “nesting.”