On Tour Pt. 02

Ian wiped his eyes. He stared at Mary's soft brown eyes in the family picture on his desk; the eyes that haunted is darkest dreams and most wonderful memories; the smiling eyes which hinted she knew a secret you would do anything to share. "How did you find that out? Did your mother ...?"

"No, dad. You told me."

"I never ... ."

"After we buried mom, we both felt like garbage bags full of shattered glass, and you were really out of it, so I took you to the Brown Jug after we left the cemetery. We had a drink, or three, or seven, I forget exactly. It was the only time I ever drank in front of you without you lecturing me. You got around to that story about midnight. You needed to talk and I needed to listen. One thing especially stayed with me; you said absolutely nothing in your life really felt worthwhile until mom dropped into it. I never forgot that."

"Why are you bringing this up now?"

"My beautiful woman just dropped into my life. I am suddenly filled with purpose, with a hefty overdose of responsibility, and some familial guilt thrown into the mix."

"Beautiful, huh?" his father asked through a throat constricted by tears.

"I sincerely believed she was an angel the first time I saw her, dad. Slender like a willow wand, waist length blond hair, blue eyes, and with a voice that gets heavenly choirs to stop and listen. Face that could not only launch a thousand ships, but get the crews to scrub the decks and repaint."

"If you are as smart as I think you are, you should already be engaged."

"No, not yet. There are some problems."

"There are no problems, only ... ," Ian started to say automatically.

"Opportunities to be creative," Evan chuckled. "She's a singer. Does a lot of traveling. So I'll telecommute to the home office while she's on the road. I also am in charge of all the electronics for the tour group, so I need to give them all the necessary time setting up and taking down."

Ian was a veteran of continuous eighteen hour days for weeks, and lived his life as a major consumer of ginseng tea, so the work load his son described didn't bother him in the slightest. But he also knew where Evan's loyalty would ultimately lay. "I can count on you to be a serious contributor to the business? Government auditors and paying customers don't take to flighty commitment, Evan."

"I have an offering of serious intent, dad. How about a routine that can crack a 512-bit encryption key in thirteen minutes or less? Think the NSA might be interested?"

Ian pinched his nose and shook his head. "That's impossible, Evan."

"Not if you are drinking buddies with a couple of rogue math wizards at MIT who smoke transfinite numbers and surf chaos theory and only occasionally notice what the rest of us call the real universe. Oh, and a good listener who has computers in his genes and can program in binary, blindfolded. I'm downloading it to you now. As proof I have the decrypt of the CIA's report to the DHS on al Qaeda operatives hacking into our armed drones, which was transmitted just ... twenty-seven minutes ago. I'm also nibbling away at a double-layer 512-bit encryption program that the algorithm CAN'T crack, but you might have to wait until Christmas for that to show up." Ian's screen flickered and Evan's face grinned at him. "Oh, by the way, dad; you've been hacked."

Ian stared at his son, and swallowed hard, torn between laughing in exuberance and howling in outrage. He finally managed to say, "You know you've probably just tripled the company's worth, don't you?"

"That's good, because I need to tap some of your good will and my inheritance."

Suddenly wary again, Ian grunted, "Why?"

"Amy's career right now makes a rolling stone look like a couch potato. To be part of that life I need to be mobile, too. I'm the support staff for all of the show electrical and electronic stuff. But they only need me when they are standing still. So while the buses are rolling, I'll telecommute to the family business. Based on the rest of the tour schedule for this year that's twenty to thirty hours a week, and I still have enough time to sleep, eat, brush my teeth and romance Amy." Evan chuckled archly, his expression displaying both his father's devilish grin and his mother's angelic eyes. "So? Do we have a deal?"

"How much inheritance do you need to tap?" He was already sold but didn't want to be too eager ... though the thought of the big, empty, overly quiet house being rocked occasionally by the squeals of a grandchild was too good to pass up.

"Max? Two and a half million. Probably less, but you always beat into me to budget and schedule for contingencies."

"Oh, that's all? No problem. What do you need it for?"

"Well, the finest engagement ring I can find - and a way to telecommute on the road from anywhere in the world. You also taught me that money can be exchanged for time. More money can make things go faster, and I am aiming for two weeks. And I'll need you to cash in a lot of business and personal favors on my behalf."

"There's a lot to talk about, son."

"I'm close. And I bet Jamal has lamb for dinner tonight."

"Where are you? Airport? Train station? Bus station? I can be there in about fifteen minutes ... ."

"Well, if you will just open the front door, I'll give you a hug. I'm hungry and smelling dinner is torture."

But he was talking to an empty chair.

Chapter 9: Catching up

**********

Back page of the LOCAL section of the HERALD GAZETTE

DON'T WASTE YOUR MONEY ON THIS ONE FOLKS

I'm glad I missed the first show on this one and had time to pick up a new Sudoku app for my iPhone to be prepared for the second. The Madri-Gals are at the Starlite Theater today and Sunday, so don't expect any good performances until Monday when the Wild Rangers hit town.

The sound was poor; and I can't use any other word than grossly disappointing. At one point the sound cut out completely and left the red-head high and dry and ground zero for laughter in the middle of number that was at least trying to pick up the pace. A new headset solved that, but by then the momentum was lost. The lighting had a number of problems, and at one point every spot focused on the side of the stage opposite the soloist.

The girls are high calorie eye candy, no doubt about that; and, to be fair, though it kills me, they seemed to be trying. Maybe they were trying too hard. The songs weren't bad - they just didn't draw any sparks. I take that back. When the ravishing blonde, Amy Sears, came out and did one of her own compositions, 'A Hollow Where My Heart Used To Be," that got some respect. You knew that she felt it, and she made the audience feel it too. If the entire show had been like that, the police wouldn't have been able to control the riots after all the tickets sold out. As entertainment goes, this is definitely in the 'If you don't have anything better to spend $35 on,' category.

**********

Leila set aside the dismal review as her phone buzzed to announce a text, and she took it out. She forced herself not to exclaim in surprise. It was from Evan.

*Hi! Don't tell anyone. Is Amy in the back of the bus?*

Leila hesitated and then responded,*K. Yes. Where r u?*

*About a mile behind, if I'm reading your GPS correctly, but catching up fast.*

She stared at the screen, glanced up at Amy's 'completely disinterested in life' expression, swept Kathy, Marissa and Christa's preoccupied states. No one was interested in her texting. *What r u doing?*

*Coming off my leave of absence. Can you get the sound system to play 'Gotta Be Somebody'?*

She casually lifted up the remote and changed the song. Kathy gave her a dark look but said nothing and put on her own earphones and tapped at her phone in irritation. *Done. The sound system hasn't worked really well since you left.*

*I'll give it a complete overhaul. Promise.*

*How r u catching up 2 us?*

*Riding in Amy's engagement present*

Marissa had definitely noticed Leila's agitation and was trying to see what was going on. Leila tilted her screen. *You got Amy a CAR for an engagement present!?*

*Not exactly. There. We have you in view.*

Leila stood up and stared out the back window. Christa looked up from her Kindle and stared. A red convertible came up fast behind them - and pulled off to the left to pass the lumbering bus. A jade green custom van came up - and also pulled off to the left to pass. By now Kathy had caught the sudden shift in the emotions and pulled out her earphones and looked at Leila as if she had lost her mind.

A huge eighteen-wheeler was slowly over-taking them and Leila saw the driver talking on a CB microphone. The truck moved ponderously over one lane. She stared and then clapped her hands over her mouth. Marissa and Christa stood and joined her in staring out the back window over Amy's still oblivious form. Kathy asked sharply, "What are you three staring at?!"

A tour bus painted in Madri-Gal colors was gaining rapidly on them. In elegant white script letters across the top was, "Amy's Magic Carpet Ride." The overtaking vehicle pulled to within thirty feet of the back of the bus and they could clearly see Evan standing next to the driver, grinning and holding a sign against the glass. There was a large picture of a diamond ring and the words, "Amy, will you please marry me?"

Amy glanced up. Leila was giggling drunkenly into her hands. Marissa was shaking her head in disbelief. Christa had tears tumbling down her cheeks as she murmured; 'Now that's romantic."

Amy sat up and looked out the window. Her body stiffened. She started to wave, realized Evan couldn't possibly see her through the privacy tinted windows and sprinted out of the Sanctuary, yelling for the driver to stop the bus.

Amy's mother jumped out of the kitchen nook where she had been sipping tea and tried to hold Amy back. Amy flung her out of the way, spattering tea in all directions.

"Its emergency stopping only," the driver protested. "And we're on a schedule."

"Now!"

The driver started to snap back in exasperation, but the look that boiled back said Amy was two heartbeats from shoving her out the window and stopping the bus herself. "All right. All right."

Everyone rocked as the bus slowed and pulled over onto the shoulder. Amy hit the door release and jumped out while the bus rolled the last few feet to a complete stop.

"Amy, don't you dare! You get back on this bus right now! Do you hear me!" Ella was almost to the door when she was shoved out of the way by Leila, who pulled the lever to shut the door shut with a hissing thump. "Where is Amy going? What do you think you are doing?"

Leila heaved two deep breaths, and panted, "Amy's getting engaged." She took another breath, "And I am going to tell you all about your future son-in-law."

Loose gravel clattered against the bus as Amy ran. Evan stepped off the bus just in time to catch Amy's leap. They held each other and spun around as the buses rocked in the wind of passing trucks and the sun beat down on the golden wheat fields around them. The kiss assured both of them that whatever else might be wrong with the rest of the universe, in this one small corner of creation, everything was as it should be.

Marissa had her nose pressed to the window, sniffling quietly. Christa was capturing the moment on her phone. Kathy was standing rigidly with arms crossed, eyelids drooped and head shaking in disgust.

Evan set Amy down and pulled a small box of ebony velvet out of his pocket. To his soaring delight her eyes widened and she gasped. He had practiced his soliloquy for two hours in the washroom mirror, and he wasn't about to fail now. "It's not quite three carats. It's a brilliant cut that sparkles only a little less than you do on stage. It's almost as flawless as your smile. It's a blue that isn't quite the color of your eyes, but it was the closest I could come. And it's in a platinum setting to remind you of all those platinum songs you will write." He chuckled as he flipped open the box and the gem celebrated the sunlight by scintillating like a beating heart of pure light. "And even if you don't say 'yes' I'll have to give it to you anyway because it couldn't possibly belong to anyone else." Amy stared at the ring, her entire body trembling as Evan slipped it out of the box and onto her finger. She stared at it, an eternal symbol of a profound promise and a union more ancient than the words which struggled to describe it. She tore her stare away and looked up into Evan's beaming eyes. Her hair clip chose that moment to pop open, and the churning breezes whipped her hair into a cloud around them, ten thousand strands trying to bind them together - pull them closer. She stood on tiptoe and sealed the promise with a kiss.

"I take it that's a 'yes'," Evan murmured against her lips. She laughed, the joyful sound lifting them both a little higher. "Yes. Yes. Yes," punctuating each response with another kiss. Evan swept her up and climbed up on the first step of the stair. "In that case, let me give you a tour of your new bus."

"MY bus?"

"Engagement present."

"Evan Grant, how did you afford a personalized tour bus!?"

He had the grace to look a little embarrassed. "Well, remember the little Grant family software company?"

"Yes," she responded suspiciously.

"Well, it's actually kind of - medium; bordering on huge. I got dad to float me a loan and I am on the payroll as long as I put in at least 20 hours a week. Come on. Do you want to see the hot tub or your studio, first?"

**********

The headline for the ENTERTAINMENT section of the SUNSHINE TIMES

THE MADRI-GALS BRING DOWN THE HOUSE AND REBUILD IT IN THREE HOURS

I will start by admitting I had no desire to attend this event, going so far as to consider 'accidently' locking myself in the office's executive washroom. Normally I don't read other reviewers' writings about groups I am scheduled to review, but having never heard of them before, I chalked it up to research. Frankly, what I found was not inspiring; a sordid tale of technical glitches and lackluster performances for the last month, though I confess I didn't check the last two weeks. My editor eventually backed me into a corner for one of the many favors I owe him; and my wife, who enjoyed the one CD the group has produced, gave me an ultimatum. So, with negative expectations and a sour heart I attended the opening last night.

The sound was flawless and the visuals spectacular. In fact the visuals so seamlessly blended in with the music you hardly noticed as the singers wrapped the entire audience around their fingers, lofted you along on a journey which was at times like a front seat at an air show, at others like a ball of yarn being enthusiastically tumbled about by an adorable kitten, and at others a supportive hug at a deep bereavement.

Kathy, Leila, Christa, Marissa and Amy took turns enchanting the audience, but the people fell in love with Amy. Kathy was assertive on the stage, and when she told people to get up and dance, a lot of people did. Marissa swept everyone up and Leila made them use up every tissue in all of their pockets. Christa conducted the audience like a clapping orchestra, pitting one side against the other, without missing a note or a lyric.

It is said that God has both masculine and feminine sides. If that is so, then on the first day, in a commanding voice, God said, 'Let there be light,' but then, the feminine part added, "And let it be beautiful." When all the ladies were on stage, singing in harmony, I got the clear image that it was an echo of that second sentence.

There are some things which define a feeling so succinctly, which describe a universal human emotion so perfectly, which distill an action down to its very essence, that any artist following can only quote them - or fall short. 'Amazing Grace' did this with redemption arising from damnation. 'High Flight' did this with flying. 'Annie's Song' did this with quiet passion. 'Sonnets to the Portuguese' did this for unrequited love.

When Amy sears, excuse me, Grant, sang her new song, 'This is Why I Love You,' it was greeted with five seconds of utter silence as the audience tried to wring the joyful tears out of their clothes, and followed by five minutes of deafening standing ovation. Fortunately the theater did not collapse. Not since Celine Dion sang, 'If That's What it Takes' on opening night have I been so moved. Any couple who attended and did NOT make love as soon as they got home have no souls.

My wife and I have gotten tickets for tonight's performance, so there are already two less for the rest of you to fight over.

**********

END

Epilog: Coming Home

Ella stared at the review. Her daughter was making it in Las Vegas! Her daughter was also married to - the Tech. She still thought of him as 'the Tech.' But techs don't buy their new wives tour buses. After the ceremony in the Elvus Chapel, the troupe had partied at a night club. She had danced with the Tech's - Evan's - father. Who was thrilled with the occasion. She had danced with - Evan - and he had treated her decently on the spin around the dance floor, and then kissed her on the cheek and whispered that he would take good care of her daughter. She had even danced with her hus ... estranged husband. Though they hadn't spoken a word, and she had hurried away after. He had not so mysteriously appeared to walk his daughter down the aisle. And sat next to her with a nod and a smile.

She swallowed hard. Amy had had a talk with her the day after the engagement. She had been told in NO uncertain terms that she could either be mother or agent, but not both. If she was agent, then she worked for Amy; Amy did NOT work for her. It had been eye-opening to find out that all of the press she had gotten for the new songs and inspired performances had been because of the life experiences she had tried to keep her daughter from having. Amy had been particularly blunt about having to experience some part of life to really compose and perform something about it. At least for her. And Amy would allow her to remain as agent, if she restricted herself to agent things - arranging interviews, negotiating contracts, setting up recording sessions, brainstorming advertising - and not running her life for her. Then she had changed. Then she had lit up like the Sunset Strip, given her a hug, and said that when she made her a grandma, the song would be EPIC! That had broken the last wall around her heart.

Now she was sitting in her hotel room, lonely and lost and frayed around the edges. There was only one person to run to when your daughter spreads her wings and flies; one person who had always been there to comfort and support. Until she had stomped out. Until she had trashed the relationship; flushed it down the toilet; ignored it in embarrassed silence - for several years. She wondered if broken bridges could be repaired? Resolutely she picked up the house phone. He was probably still in town. He must be.

"Hello, could you please connect me to Robert Sears' room? Thank you."

She fought the urge to hang up as it rang. Then the familiar voice said, "Hello?"

"Robert. Robert, I wanted to thank you for the dance at the reception. It was ...," she groped for a word, "... wonderful."

"We always danced together well, Ella. We were a team. Once upon a time."

Ella swallowed hard. "Robert. You don't have - haven't been seeing - anyone else ...?" She couldn't finish the sentence, and almost hung up.

"That wasn't part of the separation agreement, Ella. You know that. And I know from Amy that you don't either. Or they are very easily hidden, battery-powered, and extremely quiet."

She stared at the phone, her mouth hanging open and her face zooming past crimson. "Robert, you, you, you are - maddening!"