“Thank you! We are And Then, you can buy our albums wherever you buy music. This is the last show of an amazing tour, so this is a special night. I hope we made you feel good. This last song is called ‘Shut the door, have a seat,’” I shout into the mic, addressing the sold-out crowd. The audience is a sloppy bunch; Vegas is always an interesting show. The people eat too much at the free buffets and drink more than they ever normally would. They are mostly all fans, but you will always find a handful folks that are just looking for some entertainment. They could have seen a magician or Celine Dion, but they came here.

I don’t hate playing in Vegas, but it does feel more like work sometimes. The crowd is there to be entertained, unlike somewhere like Portland where the crowd is there to participate and create an experience.

I make it through our last song. We politely wave and leave the stage. Bruce Ross doesn’t have a fraction of the energy that Lael brings to the music, but he is a pro and I appreciate him helping us out. I put my guitar on its stand next to a smiling Arnie.

“This was a hell of a tour my friend!” Arnie says to me.

“Yes, it was,” I answer. I raise my arms and give Arnie a hug. “Until the next time,” I say, then quickly add, “But next time no charter planes.”

We share a laugh and part ways. I make my way down the steps to the backstage area. Everyone is trying to make eye contact. There is a certain pressure—all of these folks will tell the story of what you were like. I smile and say hello, but I keep on walking and remind myself that the show isn’t really over until you close your hotel room door. It’s just a different act.

I round a corner and see that this act of the show will have a challenge. Ronald Ramsey is sitting in a chair speaking to a small group. He waves his arms expressively and takes up more space than he should. The group is all nodding in a yes motion like a bunch of bobble heads.

“There’s the man!” Ronald shouts and motions to me.

“Ronald.” I address him with respect, but without reverence. “What brings you to Vegas?” I ask.

“I came to see the last show of the tour. Sold-out, very impressive. The numbers from this tour have been great, truly fantastic.” Ronald speaks directly to me, the crowd around him beginning to thin out, with only the suits that work with him remaining. Ronald flattens his tie and presses on. “I think about that kid I found in that alley, and boy look at you now. Hasn’t he come a long way?” Ronald asks his henchmen, but doesn’t wait for an answer. Switch walks in and takes a seat.

“Steve, good to see ya.” I never can tell if Ronald really can’t remember Switch’s name, or if it’s some form of dominance.

Switch raises his glass and dips his head, but doesn’t say a word.

“So, the tour’s over. After a little break let’s get back in the studio. Let’s keep the energy up, now is not the time to start slowing down,” Ronald’s voice fills the room, even though he’s looking in the vanity mirror as he speaks.

I consider telling him his days of controlling my career are over, that he can sue me all he wants, but I’m leaving and I’m taking his daughter with me. I smile at the thought, but I don’t want to be careless, this is Lael’s father after all. For now, I will play my cards safely.

“This is what we do,” I answer casually.

“Good, I look forward to hearing some demos. I have some other business.” Ronald swings his chair around and stands as gracefully as an old, tall round man can.

“I’m glad we can have a working relationship like this Brad, really. I mean it’s truly the best thing for both of us. To think how close we were to ending it all in Denver. It’s much better this way. When I gave Lael the ultimatum to leave the band or I would end you, she made the right decision.” Ronald’s words hang in the air, he is smiling a devilish grin.

She lied to me. I know she was trying to protect me but I’m still angered, I’m hurt, I feel betrayed. I fight to keep my emotions under control, but my hatred for Ronald is almost impossible to conceal. Thankfully, he takes it upon himself to leave.

“Really Brad, going from a homeless orphan to leading one of the most successful touring bands in the world…. I’ve done a terrific job with you.” Ronald walks by me and slaps me on the back. “You don’t have to thank me, just hold up your end of the deal and we’re fine.” Ronald leans in close, so only I can hear his words. “Lael won’t keep it, she will make the right decision.” He leaves, and his minions follow.

I can feel my blood boil. He’s talking about my unborn child. Why didn’t Lael tell me he knew? Why didn’t Lael tell me about this ultimatum? My relationship with Ronald is going to change forever now and I’m looking forward to it.

“Why can that man never get my name right?” Switch asks.

I sit next to Switch on the opposite end of the couch, trying to shake off finding out that Lael lied to me about why she left the tour. Calvi walks in.

“Who died?” Calvi asks.

“You just missed Ronald, he gave our marching orders to head back into the studio,” I answer.

“Oh goodie,” Calvi says, then takes a sip of from a large tiki mug with smoke billowing out.

I push myself to the edge of the couch and speak soberly, “You know fellas, I want you to know that no matter what happens you are my brothers. One day we will be free of Ramsey Records; I don’t know when that will happen, but that day won’t be the end, that will be the beginning.”

I stand up and give Calvi a one-armed hug. I can hear his drink sizzling.

“Take care man, talk soon.” I pat him on the back and then look at Switch, who is standing up.

“Come here ya son of a bitch,” I pull Switch in and we hug it out.

“I know you’re only looking out for the band, but I need you to relax with the whole Lael thing. She makes me happy,” I say to both of them.

“You sure you know what you are doing man?” Calvi asks with an odd tone to his voice.

“I am, I want her in my life and I need you fellas to be okay with that.”

Silence hangs in the air.

“I’ve never seen you like this man, I am happy you found someone. It would be better if she wasn’t Ronald’s daughter, but what are ya going to do? I wish you the best,” Calvi says though I can’t tell if it’s sincere or not.

I look at Switch for a reaction.

“What he said,” Switch says, and points to Calvi.

“Well alright then. I will love ya and leave ya. And if you don’t mind, I’m stealing the bus,” I say as I walk toward the exit.

Switch leans in and inspects Calvi’s strange cocktail, then says, “Take it, I’m sick of that damn bus.”

“Take care fellas.” I wave as I walk out the door.

I’m in the back parking lot and see ol’ George, drunk as a skunk and wearing one of those visor hats gamblers wear.

“Hey George, looks like you’re heading back to the tables, I was hoping for a lift to LA,” I tell him, knowing damn well he won’t be driving me anywhere.

“My shift is over son, here’s the keys, take good care of her,” George replies in a drunken voice as he tosses me the keys.

That was easy.

I catch them and look at the massive bus. I don’t even drive a car. George doesn’t wait for a response and heads back to the casino. I look at the busy Vegas street I have to reverse into and my heart sinks.

“Oh boy,” I say out loud to myself.

I step into the bus and close the door. After some fumbling I get the engine started. It occurs to me I have no idea what Lael’s address is, so I pull out my phone and send a text.

I’ve stolen the bus, I’m driving it to your place, address please

She responds right away:

What!? Stop stealing vehicles, you’re going to kill yourself. Take a taxi!

I smile and text back:

Too late—on my way

She texts:

Please don’t get into an accident. 150 Nagle Ave, Sherman Oaks

I begin backing up. I lay on the horn and don’t let go. I’m being yelled at and drinks are being thrown at the bus, but I don’t care. At least I’m not running over anyone.

After a twelve-point turn, a hundred cars honking at me, and a serious traffic jam, I’m finally pointed in the right direction and on my way. I’m smiling like a mad man driving down the strip in a bus, on my way to see Lael. God I miss her, I can’t wait to see the look on her face when I pull up with this thing.

I fumble with my phone, getting the G.P.S. going. I struggle to keep my energy up when I see my E.T.A. It looks like I’ll be arriving at six a.m. Obviously I could have planned this better, but I’m on my way and I’m not turning back. I turn on the radio and the Allman Brothers are playing. Perfect, I can’t think of a better sound track.

I pull onto the freeway and my back wheels driving over the curb cause the bus to bounce around violently, almost knocking me out of my seat. I turn down the radio and buckle up.

After a long boring ride on the highway, I managed to stay awake and make it to LA and the G.P.S. says I’m close. There’s a yellow warning light, indicating I have low fuel, that I have a sincere conversation with. I beg and plead to not run out of gas.

I’m so close, just a little longer, come on baby.

The G.P.S. gives me my commands:

Turn left

Turn Right

Destination is on your right

And then I’m here, I made it, I’m exhausted.

I park as close to the curb as I can and turn off the engine. The bus is dreadfully out of place on this quiet residential street. I feel drugged; I played to a sold-out crowd, then drove through the night to get here, and now it’s morning and everything feels completely surreal.

There she is, I can see her one house down from where I stopped. She’s stepping out of the front door and closing it behind her.

I take in a deep breath – I can’t wait to hold her – and feel a second wind wash over me. I put on my jacket, only to try and look cool. I drink some water from a bottle to try to remedy my dry mouth. I’m nervous, I hope she hasn’t changed her mind about how she feels about me.

She’s walking this way. I prepare to get off the bus as gallantly as possible, like a knight dismounting his horse, like a captain from his ship, like…

I miss a step and fall flat on my face.

“Brad! Oh my god are you okay?” Lael shouts and runs over.

“That was a longer drive than I thought,” I answer, rolling to my back.

Lael lies on the grass with me. She holds my face and kisses me softly. “I can’t believe you did that. I’ve been up all night, worried. I wanted to call or text but I imagined you reaching for the phone and crashing. Do you even have a license?”

“No,” I answer.

“Brad!” Lael scolds me.

“I. Missed. You. So. Much.” I kiss her between each word.

“C’mon, we’re lying on my neighbors’ lawn.” Lael pulls at the cuffs of my jacket.

I stand up and we face each other, her teal hair is tied up and she’s wearing a long tee shirt and comfy pants. The air smells like flowers, the morning sun makes her tired eyes squint. She looks like home and I would have driven that bus around the world to see her.

“Lael.”

“Yes, Brad?”

“I am in love with you.”

She leans in and kisses my bottom lip softly. Her face is completely relaxed, and she looks at me with the most caring eyes I’ve ever seen. She tilts her head and as she kisses me again, I can feel her giving me her trust; so completely vulnerable and perfect.

“Inside,” Lael commands, her voice soft.

She holds my hand with a soft grip and walks me to her front door. She takes me down a short hall and into her room.

“You must be so tired, baby,” she says, pulling at my shirt.

She undresses me completely. I would have at least kept my boxers on, but I forgot who I was dealing with here. She slips out of her clothes and is completely naked. I get the impression this is how she always sleeps.

We get into her perfectly soft bed and tangle our naked bodies together.

“And I’m in love with you,” she whispers in my ear.

I fall asleep in the morning light with a smile that lasts for as long as I’m asleep.

There’s a thud and crash that wakes me. I don’t know what time it is, but the room looks considerably different with the blinds closed.

The door opens and a young black woman walks in. Lael wakes up when the woman opens the blinds.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you had company,” the woman exclaims, surprised to see us. “It’s eleven a.m., you must have had a hell of a night.” She struts right over to the bed and sits down cross-legged facing me.

“I’m Christy.” She introduces herself to me and shakes my hand.

“Brad,” I reply groggily.

“I know,” she laughs.

“Christy…” Lael interjects.

Then a little Chihuahua scurries into the room and jumps onto the bed.

“This is Little Groot,” Lael says, introducing me to the dog who gives me the side eye. “Ok, now that we all know each other, how about a little privacy?”

“Fine. It’s nice to meet you Brad,” Christy says with a smile and struts out of the room.

“The door!” Lael shouts.

Christy raises an eyebrow then closes it slowly.

“Does she always come in here like this?”

“I tend to oversleep these days,” Lael says. “It’s her gentle way of waking me up. Apparently I can be prickly if she tries to force me awake. How did you sleep?”

“Like a baby, this bed is amazing, how do you ever get anything done?”

“I figure you spend a good chunk of your life in your bed, best to get a good one.”

“Look, I want to talk about something,” I tell her. “It’s about the events that led to you bowing out of the last shows of the tour. I know what really happened.”

Lael closes her eyes and puts her head back on her pillow. I wait for her to say something, but silence hangs in the air too long so I continue.

“I’m not mad, I just want you to know we don’t have to tip-toe around. Your father won’t have any control over me very soon. I’m tired of this fake business and I want to start something new. I don’t need to take over the world, I just want to do something great. I want to create something with you. A new life. The three of us.”

Lael smiles and pulls the covers over her face for a moment, then pulls the covers away. We laugh like children playing.

“What are you thinking?” Lael asks.

I swing around and lie on top of her, pinning her down. I hold the back of her head and look at her with intensity.

“I have no idea,” I answer.

We laugh again. Lael adds, “Sounds like fun, count me in.”

We spend most of the rest of the day naked in her amazing bed. She orders food, we watch Netflix, we are perfectly at ease. Beyond the borders of this bed the world does not exist. I know I have to take care of a few things and can’t stay here forever. The bus, for one. I do have a condo I should check on, and there is the issue of the rest of my life I have to figure out. But I know exactly where I need to go.

After some time, I kiss her goodbye and promise to return tomorrow.

I have a car come and take me to the old theater, the only place I seem to be able to get perspective.

It’s a little late in the day for me to have the theater to myself. Surely there will be a band doing sound check. That’s fine. Sometimes I can’t think if it’s too quiet.

I step out of the car and stand under the marquee of the old beautiful theater. I know every crack on the sidewalk here, I know what the rain sounds like when it hits the roof. I swing open the door and step into the foyer. The heavy door closes behind me and it’s like someone turned the volume knob of the city all the way down.

It’s sacred. I spend some time in the foyer, breathing in the smells, beginning the process of forgetting—remembering. I can hear the familiar sounds of a band setting up. I head up the winding red carpeted steps to find a spot on the balcony. There is something about that moment, when you step into a cavernous theater from a dark hall, something inside you wakes up.

I watch the band and their crew set up, laugh, and horse around. Behind me there is a spot above the spotlight I used to climb up to where I could watch what was happening. I have countless memories here, some are good, some are bad. I think of myself as a child and how I carried feelings of guilt and shame with me. Of course the irony is I was an innocent child and no reason to feel any shame.

A child. Lael is going to have my child. There will be someone that doesn’t know me as Brad, they will call by my new name; Dad.

I’m going to be a father. I’ve never had a family, have grown to accept that. I always felt that was so final, that I don’t have a family and I’m alone in the world. It never once occurred to me that it could change, I could start my own family.

I wish I had someone I could share this news with; I can imagine what Mr. Robson would say. Surely he would be a proud grandfather.

When Lael told me she was pregnant, there was a part of me that was a scared kid, but those feeling are gone. It made me see the child that I am and I know what I must face. I did what I had to do to get here, but it’s time for me to take control of my life. It’s time to become a man.

If Ronald wasn’t her father, I would simply walk. I would tear up the contract and walk away. He could do his best, but I know I would be fine. Even though I hate the man, he is her father. So I’ll give him a chance to do what’s right. He’s made threats, I have to consider that he may be dangerous. I could be worth more to him dead than alive—but I don’t believe it. I’m not concerned about that, deep down I know my safety is not in jeopardy.

“Did you come to say goodbye?” I’m startled by her voice. Ms. Sugar steps onto the balcony, an older version of the women I knew, but it is unquestionably her.

“Say goodbye?” I question.

Sugar takes the seat next to me.

“How are ya kid?” she asks.

“I’m doing my best,” I answer.

“Well, I guess that’s all you can ask for,” she says with a chuckle.

“Are you going somewhere?” I ask.

“Oh, you don’t even know. It’s the theater sweetheart, it’s being turned into condos. In a couple months this will be a construction site. Money talks I guess.” Sugar’s words hit hard.

She delicately opens a flask and takes a hit, then offers it to me.

“No thanks,” I say, waving my hand.

I can’t find the words, so I don’t reply. I look around the theater and feel like I’m looking at a dying friend. I take in a slow deep breath to calm my emotions.

“I’m going to be a father,” I tell her casually.

“Fantastic, good for you, the kid is having a kid, what do ya know?” She sounds drunk. She tries to take another drink but the flask is empty.

“I have an eight-year-old son, ya know,” she says.

“I didn’t know that, what’s his name?”

“Kevin.”

We share a moment. I have a hard time imaging Sugar as a mom, but then again I’m sure she has hard time seeing me as a father.

“How much did they sell the theater for?” I ask.

“I don’t know, I don’t even know the owners. I have a business card here, a realtor left it around and I grabbed it.” She rifles through her leopard-print bag. “Here it is.” She hands me the card. “I am sure I’ll see ya around kid, congratulations on being a father, that’s real swell.”

Sugar gets up with a fraction of the grace she once had, and leaves the way she came. I look at the card, Mary Cade is the name. Her picture is on the card. I always wondered why realtors put their head-shots on everything.

Mary Cade, I think we need to have a conversation.

But first I have some business to deal with at Ramsey Records.