Lucas woke to Sindy’s light gray eyes staring down at him. Momentarily startled, he jumped. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
“How can you sleep when we’re leaving for our first tour in a few hours? I’ve been up for a half hour and poking you for 10 minutes.”
Technically the tour started a few days before the single dropped. But since so many studios, both television and radio, were located in the tri-state area, there wasn’t a need to be on the road. They simply drove back home after each gig.
Lucas stretched his arms over his head and pulled Sindy to his chest. “It’s our last good night’s sleep in a real bed for a month. Let’s enjoy it.”
She let out a sigh. “You make it hard to resist, but there’s also huevos rancheros waiting downstairs. Do you really want to miss your last breakfast at home with your family?”
Lucas sat upright. This would be the last home-cooked meal he’d have for the next few weeks, and he didn’t know which he’d miss more – Papi’s cooking or his own bed. With eagerness in his stride, he went downstairs and joined his family for breakfast.
Everything seemed better this morning. The day was clearer, warmer than usual, and the birds exceptionally joyful as they chirped the day’s greeting to the world. The sun shone brightly through the windows, bathing the house in a warm yellow glow. The juice tasted sweeter and the eggs fresher. He savored every morsel as if it were his last meal. He listened to the chaotic banter around the table that had, in the past, drove him crazy with the way everyone talked at once.
When the meal was over, he cleared the table, which garnered a loving kiss on the cheek from his mother and praise for being such a good son. After Sindy helped him load the dishwasher, he went back to his room to find something to take with him on tour that would remind him of home. He picked up a half dozen different trinkets, but he couldn’t decide what to take with him. He picked up a framed picture of him with his family that was taken at his college graduation. This is what he’d take with him.
“I remember that day.”
Lucas turned toward his dad, standing in the doorway.
“I watched you graduate and thought, there’s my first-born child. When did he turn into a man? Now I look at you, and that’s all I see. You’ve done so much with your life already, and now you’re embarking on this journey that’s going to take you to the next phase in your life. And I’m torn between being so incredibly happy and proud to watch you grow, and wanting you to stay exactly as you are. I know it’s only a few weeks, but I’m going to miss you like crazy.”
Suddenly melancholy at being away from his family, a lump landed in Lucas’ throat like a baseball, and he struggled to speak. “I’m gonna miss you too, Dad.” His gaze dropped to the Les Paul in his father’s hand. “Were you playing?”
“Yeah. I got really sentimental. Sit down with me for a minute.”
Lucas sat next to his father, who kept staring at the Les Paul across his lap.
“I’ve had this guitar since before I met Papi. Me and your mom were newly married when I bought it. We were really struggling with finances back then, and we couldn’t afford it, but I had to have it. The moment I laid eyes on this beauty, I fell in love. This guitar has been with me at every single show I’ve ever played since then. I’ve never taken the stage without her at my fingertips.” He gazed lovingly at the instrument. “I almost lost her once. In the jungle in Fiji. She almost burned up, but Papi saved her. He saved me, too.”
There were a million stories that revolved around his dad’s beloved Les Paul. Just when Lucas thought he’d heard them all, his dad revealed a new one.
“I love this guitar. It means the world to me.” His dad held it up in both hands. “She’s yours now.”
It took Lucas a second to comprehend his father’s statement. The gesture floored him with humility. Passing down the Les Paul was the ultimate gift, and Lucas felt unworthy. “You’re giving me your Les Paul? Dad. No. I couldn’t take it. It means too much to you.”
“It means nothing compared to you, Lucas. I want you to take it with you and use it at every show, just like I have. I’m gonna worry about you on the road. Touring isn’t easy. It’s hard work. I’ll worry you’re going to get burnt out. Or if you’re sleeping enough or working too hard. If you take this guitar with you, it’ll be like a piece of me is there with you. She’ll watch over you like a talisman.”
Lucas took the Les Paul in his hands, as gentle as if he was cradling a newborn baby. “Thank you, Dad. I was looking for something to take with me to remind me of home, and this is perfect. I’ll cherish it forever.”
Lucas lovingly carried the Les Paul to the tour bus and tucked it inside, just as his father had always done when Immortal Angel was on tour. The road crew had never touched the beloved instrument, and it never went in the cargo area. Even on commercial jets, the Les Paul always had its own seat, and Lucas planned to uphold the tradition. He exited the tour bus and stared at the people he’d known his entire life. Everyone came to say their final goodbyes. Jimmy and Audra, including their younger son Michael, all bubbled with excitement. Aunt Mary sat in her wheelchair, smiling with joy. Kira and her husband were here as well, along with their seven-year-old twins. And, of course, Damien and Alyssa.
“You have a big family of friends,” Sindy commented.
Lucas extended his arms to the sides to include everyone in front of them. “These people right here are what we like to refer to as the Immortal Angel family.” Lucas let out a small chuckle. “But I have a lot more relatives. Wait until you meet my six grandparents and ten aunts and uncles. And all my first cousins.”
Sindy stared at him, wide-eyed. “You’re joking, right?”
“Not at all. When you have three parents, you get a third more relatives than everyone else.”
“I have presents!” Lucas’ mom called, her arms full of shopping bags.
Tessa let out her usual squeal of glee. Honestly, you could give that girl a pencil and she’d howl with excitement. Of course, knowing his parents, it would be a 24-karat gold pencil.
“I’ll give you yours first, Tessa, since you can hardly contain yourself.” It was one of his mom’s signature guitar straps. Tessa held it up and admired it, then hugged and kissed their mom on the cheek. Lucas and Sindy also received custom-made guitar straps, each embellished with their name in silver studs along the back, and each with unique designs branded into the leather.
Sindy examined the gift with awe, placed it over her shoulder and ran her hand along the leather. “This is so soft and supple. Did you make these?”
“Of course,” his mom replied. “I’ve been making these guitar straps since before I had my degree in designing.”
