“Don’t wake up,” I whisper to Emma. “It’s okay. I promise you, life isn’t so hard.” I whisper so quietly, I’m barely making a sound. My beautiful daughter is curled up on my chest, we are in bed and it is the middle of the day. Her name is Emma, she’s four months old, and I’m in love.

Her tiny little hand squeezes my finger as she dreams. Other than her diaper she’s naked, and I can feel her go through a spectrum of emotions as she sleeps. Slowly, I push back her thin hair. Each time she smiles, I smile back. Her eyes open, and she leaves her little dream for a moment. Her blue eyes are bright and they shine with love. She looks deep into my eyes then closes hers and returns to her little baby dream.

My phone vibrates on the table and I silence it as quick as I can. It’s a text from Lael.

Look what came in today!!!

A picture of a large vintage mixing console in our new recording studio is below her message. It is a classic, a Neve, and it cost me almost as much as the theater. I share her excitement. It’s the final piece we’ve been waiting for, almost all the construction is nearly complete.

The theater came with the next building as a package deal and it didn’t take long for Lael to come up with the idea to build a recording studio. The theater is our base camp, our creative headquarters. It has always been a sacred place for me and I can’t think of a better venue for my family to grow. Most of the old crew still work the live shows and a few of them are helping out on the recording studio side.

I reply to her text:

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.”

I make my way through a common area and down a little hallway. There’s a red light in front of the door that has the words Recording in process on it. It’s flashing on and off.

The door swings open and there she is. Lael looks at us, her eyes are bright and they shine with love just like her daughter’s. Lael is contorting herself so she can flick the switch from the control room and see if it’s working from the hall where Emma and I are standing.

“Success!” she says in reference to the newly installed light.

“Success,” I respond.

“Oh, look at you two. I love you so much,” she says as she rushes over and hugs us. She kisses me and Emma smiles at the sight of her mom. She takes Emma from my arms and holds her tight.

“Are you ready?” Lael asks with her fist clenched in excitement.

“Yes I am,” I answer.

In more ways than she can possibly know.

I check my pocket once again.

We walk into the control room and there it is. It’s slightly smaller than I thought it would be but I still can’t imagine how it got in here. The sides and top are beautiful old wood, there are more faders and knobs then I can compute at first glance. There are meters with needles and nothing about this is digital, it’s as analog and true as it gets. It’s the cinematic setting for a mad scientist and his time machine, or a maybe a wizard’s machine built to access another world.

The perfect mix of science and magic.

“We had a little technical difficulty but this is the moment of truth,” Lael says. I can tell she’s been working hard and it’s the excitement that’s keeping her going.

The room is full, most of the staff are here, in fact they’re all here. The excitement about the studio and especially the Neve Mixing Desk has attracted a crowd.

I didn’t plan for a crowd this evening.

Not for what I have planned.

“Come on, take a seat captain,” Lael says pulling out the chair.

I sit down at the desk. I don’t pull in too close because someone is underneath fumbling with some cables. I push up the master fader for fun. To think of all the creative energy that will be going through this machine, all the memories will be channeled through these tubes and cables. Maybe Emma will one day sing a song through this mixer.

Zap!

“Ahh!” The fella under the desk hits his head when he recoils from the shock. It smells like electrical burning. “I’m okay, I’m okay, nothing is broken, sorry about that. I am going to need some time here.”

I don’t recognize him and assume he’s the specialist that traveled with this particular unit. These old machines take considerable amount of care and there are very few people in the world that can handle them.

“Oh no! Okay, come check out the live room with me then,” Lael says to me, trying not let her enthusiasm waver, even though I can see the live room well from where I sit. Directly above the mixing desk is a soundproof window. You can sit at the mixing desk and look right into the eyes of whomever is performing in the live room.

“Sure, let’s check it out,” I get up and follow her through the large door. It feels like entering a bomb shelter because the door and walls are so thick. I clap my hands to hear the echo of the room.

“Perfect. This is perfect,” I say to her, walking around the room, exploring what’s lying around. There’s a leather sofa chair in the corner that sticks out. Lael notices me looking at it.

“It’s just there for now. It will be moved to the other room,” she says.

I chuckle over the fact that she’s so concerned about it and look through the glass to see all the grey-haired staff fussing over the mixing desk.

There’s something about being in a soundproof room, you can hear your own breath, your own heart beating in your ears. Mine is beating fast. I wasn’t planning on doing it like this. But I feel like if I wait for the perfect moment I’ll be waiting for the rest of my life.

“Are you okay?” Lael asks.

“Yes, I am. I’m more than okay.” I take Emma from her arms and place her carefully on the sofa.

“What are you doing? She can fall, I can hold her,” Lael says with some confusion in her voice.

“It’s okay, I’ll stay down here next to her,” I say as I get down on one knee.

I look up at Lael and watch as her confusion melts away.

She knows what’s happening.

And so I take a moment, I don’t rush. We look at each other with love. I have one hand on baby Emma keeping her steady and Emma has a silly smile on her face.

I think I might too.

“When you picked me up from the airport my life changed forever,” I tell her, clearing my throat. “We have had a wild ride, you and I, and looking around this place I feel like we are just getting started. We’re going to travel the world playing wild rock shows, we’re going to make music out of this studio, we’re going to do it together, the three of us. We’re going to live our lives exactly how we want to. I am in love with you. And I want to break all the rules with you. Lael Ramsey I want you to be my wife. Will you marry me?”

I steady giggling Emma again, then reach into my pocket, fumbling for a moment to find the ring.

Lael breaks down into tears,

“Yes,” she says, her voice choking.

I put the ring on her finger. All the hair on my body is on end, I don’t cry but but emotion is coursing through me in way I can’t describe. Lael looks at the ring then pulls me up.

“I love you so much,” she says to me.

I pick up Emma. I kiss Lael and hold her with Emma between us. We are one, we are family.

“Looks like you got it on the first take.”

We hear the words coming from the speakers in the corners of the room. Our attention goes to the control room behind the soundproof glass. All the staff are watching us. I notice a few of them have taken off their hats and are holding them next to their hearts. The fella at the seat is holding down the talkback mic, the crew begins to applaud. Then the fella at the desk releases the talkback button to clap his hands.

We watch the entire crew applaud in complete silence. It’s a strange sight, all of them clapping and shouting, and not hearing a sound.

Another fella reaches over and presses the talkback mic again, the sound of the shouts and applause make us jump.

“Congratulations!’ he says with a large smile.

Lael steps closer to the old-timey looking microphone in the middle of the room that has obviously captured my proposal.

“Thank you, I guess this means the desk works then,” Lael says into the mic.

“Everything looks perfect,” he says to us over the volume of the applause.

***

I’m in the theater tonight, doing the sound for the live performance and getting a young band set up for their show. They’re a simple trio, bass, drums and guitar. It’s an easy one but it’s been a long time for me and it’s not as second nature as it once was.

As the night progresses though, I’m becoming more and more comfortable with working at the live mixing desk. It’s a lot different from the mixing desk in the other studio. First of all, this isn’t an analog machine like the one we just got, second of all, it’s live music. You’re on the spot and there’s no room for error, not during a concert.

Even so, I have everything set-up early so I ease back in my chair and watch the theater slowly fill up with concert-goers.

For a new band they have a decent turnout. This is a great place for people watching. There’s a young fella at the front of the stage all alone, looking at the equipment. I know what he’s feeling, I remember being that kid.

Then I see a crowd of girls come in together, dressed to impress. They are too young to realize that all of this is for them. They are so powerful and I don’t think they have any idea, everything here is because of them.

There’s a famous guitar player that said there are two kinds of musicians, the kind that do it for the girls and the kind that lie about it. This theater was probably built to impress a girl. The studio next door certainly was. Everything I do now is to impress two girls that are in that studio right now.

“Hey Kid.” Sugar comes into my little area with her son, Kevin.

“Hey Sugar, Hey Kevin,” I greet them. Kevin is wearing the same clothes and same hat as when I first met him. And he’s still too shy to answer me.

“Look, Kid, I have to fly, can you watch my Kid, Kid?” Sugar smiles at the joke. She says it every time and every time I still smile. Even though the years haven’t been too kind to her, I still feel I owe her a lot.

I look down at Kevin who’s looking down at his shoes.

“I have a show,” she goes on. “I am the first one on, I promise I’ll be back before this all wraps up.” Sugar turns her attentions to her son. “Be good for Mr….Kid.” She doesn’t wait for me to answer and leaves.

Kevin looks up, past me, and scans the whole space with curious bright eyes. I look down at Kevin. He’s younger than I was when I first came here and I don’t think I was quite so shy, but he does remind me of myself in this very spot all those years ago.

I can’t resist from saying it.

“So, your mom let you out of your cage.”

The kid smiles at me for the first time and says, “Do you like Dilallo Burgers?”