11. Lake
eleven
A Few Weeks Later
It made perfect sense to come back here to record my second album.
Ty’s studio feels like a second home at this point.
I know every inch of this control room like the back of my hand. I’ve crashed on the couch more nights than I can count. Zoey leaves me treats in the little kitchen, where the coffee pot is always full. Tonight: fresh blueberry scones.
Words can’t express how grateful I am to my found family.
Linus knew I’d need some sense of familiarity to balance my career with my newfound fatherhood.
Rather than spend months in LA as we originally planned, he convinced Ty to move some things around so it would be possible to stay in Seattle so I could be close to Levi.
As important as this record is, time with my son is higher on the priority list.
Always will be.
Anyway, the record’s nearly finished. Today, we should complete the final mix. Adjusting half a decibel on the bass. Correcting a vocal sitting a touch too dry. Fixing the levels on an acoustic part. Tiny imperfections nobody outside this room would likely ever notice.
I would, though. Same with Ty.
He leans over the SSL, shaving another fraction off the compressor on Little Hand. We’ve been buried inside these mixes for days. The tracks have stopped being songs and are like math problems at this point.
Everyone’s happy with the new stuff. It has a completely different vibe than my first album, which was written in motel rooms while we played to empty rooms around the country.
Neeley dominated my thoughts at that point and I truly believed I’d spend the rest of my life alone chasing people who never stayed.
This time, every song has taken me somewhere I didn’t expect.
“Going to try another decibel down low,” Ty mutters, eyes fixed on the meters.
The studio door swings open. “My brother.”
Zane Rocks crosses the room and plops down between me and Ty.
Most people know him as the guitarist who helped Ty build their band, LTZ, into one of the biggest acts in the world.
He also owns The Mission, where I met Noa when she went by Neeley.
I’ve gotten to know him well ever since I became part of the Rainier Foundation.
He’s a guy who wanders in without knocking, raids the fridge, hijacks recording sessions, and somehow charms everyone in his vicinity at the same time.
He claps a hand across the back of my neck. “Tell me you’re not still at it.”
“I’m still comping fucking vocals.” Ty snorts.
“Christ. How you holdin’ up, kid?” He still calls me kid. Probably always will. He leans over the console, “What’re we listening to?”
Ty answers by pressing play. Little Hand fills the room.
The vocal still sits a touch too dry and the bass wants another half decibel underneath it.
Normally I’d stop the playback, but I want Zane’s opinion first. Ty glances sideways at me and I motion for him to let it play out.
Zane’s eyes are squeezed shut, forearms on his knees, listening the way musicians do after decades of making records.
He doesn’t react until the last note disappears when he lets out a slow whistle. “Fuck me.”
“Good or bad?” Ty looks over.
Zane gives him a thumbs up. “Fucking great.”
Ty kills the playback. Studies the console for a moment, then smiles to himself. “You know, this record reminds me of something.”
“Yeah.” Zane looks over. “The one we made after Z.”
“Yep.” Ty taps the lyric sheets spread across the console.
“Sometimes, when you’re full of emotions you can’t process, the only way out is to pour everything inside you into songs.
Once they’re out…” He shrugs. “You finally have room for everything else.” His finger drifts across the stack. “This feels like one of those records.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
He doesn’t answer right away. The room goes still.
“I think spending time with Noa and Levi is making you feel things you never thought you’d have,” Ty finally answers. “It’s a wonderful thing when you find your person.”
I’m speechless. What is he getting at?
Is he right?
It’s hard to reconcile. I spent years convincing myself I’d imagined my connection to Neeley. Only to find out Neeley was actually Noa and—surprise—we conceived a baby on our one night together. When I first met Levi, I became convinced the strange pull I felt toward Noa was only because of him.
She’s gone above and beyond, though. My first visits with Levi were awkward because I had no idea how to hang with a two-year-old and to him, I was just some guy. Noa’s made me feel welcome. Included. Important.
She’s encouraged us to develop a natural connection. Two meetings a week turned into three. Then four. Now we see each other most days for at least an hour or two.
Spending time with them is the thing I look most forward to.
Noa and I have also settled into a rhythm without ever talking about it.
She hands me his backpack. I buckle Levi into his car seat.
He reaches for my hand when he wants to show me something.
Noa lets me carry him on my shoulders when we go on an outing.
Before we say goodbye for the day, he throws one little hand into the air for a high-five.
It’s become our thing.
Six months ago my biggest problem was whether I remembered to buy guitar strings before a gig.
Now, I need to pass a custodial visit from Hannah to earn my unsupervised parenting time.
I’ve kid-proofed my condo and tomorrow, Noa is bringing him over to see his room.
We’re going to tell him I’m his dad together.
I’m excited to have some alone time with Levi but, more and more, I’d give anything if the three of us were more of a package deal.
Holy shit.
The truth bounces around my head like a ping-pong ball.
My son is the greatest thing in my life, don’t get me wrong.
I’m also hopelessly in love with Noa.
I think about her all the time. She’s in my head at four a.m. when I can’t sleep.
First thing in the morning. Last thing at night.
For fuck’s sake, a couple days ago I watched her wipe applesauce off Levi’s chin with the sleeve of her sweater and I thought, plain and clear, I want to marry this woman.
“She’s not the same woman I met at The Mission,” I hear my self say. “She’s a completely different person.”
“What do you mean?” Ty squints.
“That night.” I choose the words carefully. “She was high. Gave me a fake name, came home with me, rocked my world and left before the sun came up. The woman who spawned my hit songs was having a relapse and barely remembered anything.”
Ty’s quiet. He understands because, before he and Zoey reunited, he went through a wild spell.
“The woman I’m getting to know now is somebody completely different.” I lean back. “She’s clean as a whistle. Is a phenomenal mother and has built a stable life. She’s kind. Smart. Witty. Gorgeous…”
Zane snorts. Can’t help himself.
“I’m so fucking in love with her.” I plant my face on my palms. “I’m in love with the woman she is now and I’m still in love with the woman she was then, because they’re the same person.”
Zane and Ty keep quiet as I process.
“I don’t know if she feels the same way about me.
” I look at my hands so I can avoid their eyes.
“She’s told everything and we talk a lot about her sobriety in our counseling sessions.
There’s a haunted look in her eyes whenever we talk about our past, though.
Her family is one of the richest in Seattle.
It’s not like she lived a tough life in boarding school and college. What could it be?”
“Have you asked her?” Ty squints at me.
“Once.” I wring my hands. “She blew it off.”
Ty leans back. “It’s early days. Take it from an old married man who knows a thing or two. Give her the runway, brother. Same as you’re giving Levi.”
“I want her to trust me.” The words come out uglier than I mean. “I’ve given her weeks of showing up on time and following Hannah’s rules and shutting my fucking mouth every time I want to argue about the timeline. I want her to look at me and know I’m not going anywhere.”
“She knows.” Zane’s voice is gentle. “She’s afraid too, is my guess. She’s going from having Levi all to herself to sharing her baby with you.”
I stare at the floor. “Yeah. True.”
“It wasn’t long ago I thought I’d lost my own family.” Ty shrugs. “Time and faith can heal you. Keep up what you’re doing.”
“Yeah,” I say again. Softer this time. “Let’s get back to work. I wanna get home. Tomorrow’s a big day.”
Ty hits play on Little Hand and lets it roll again. We spend the next couple hours fine-tuning the tracks and are about to finalize the last one when my phone buzzes against the console.
I flip it over.
Noa.
She never calls during a session. I almost let it go to voicemail when I realize it could be about Levi.
I step out into the hall and answer. “Hey.”
“Lake.” Her voice is a wire pulled tight. “Levi climbed the coffee table when I turned my back. He fell. There’s blood. I don’t know how bad it is. My parents are out of town so I’m taking him to Swedish as a precaution I’m—can you—”
“I’m on my way.” I grab my keys and head out without saying a word to Ty or Zane.
They’ll understand.
“Meet me at the ER. Please,” Noa sobs. “I’m pulling into the parking lot.”
“Baby, I’m already in the car.” I’m not. I’m walking up the driveway but she needs comfort, not precision. “GPS says ten minutes to the bridge. Twenty to Swedish. I’m coming. Talk to me.”
I hear Levi in the background. He’s crying. Loud. Loud is good. Loud means he’s breathing and conscious. I’ve never in my life been so grateful to hear my son screaming.
“Keep talking, Noa. I need to know you’re both okay.” I gun the car past a slow poke Subaru. “I’m gonna be there soon.”
Her laugh is wet and broken. “Okay. Hurry.”
“Noa. Don’t be scared. We’ll get through this. Together,” I vow.
If I didn’t know it before.
I do now.
They’re my family and I’ll do anything to keep the two of them safe.