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“I’m going to get us some drinks,” J.R. says, standing. “You get a Shirley Temple,” he adds, pointing at Amia.
“Water is fine. I’m not two,” Amia replies, and then she looks at me. “You and Dad really met here?”
“Yep. Kelley and Chels were here, too.”
“This doesn’t look like a place you’d be caught dead in. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a bar.”
“I forced her here. It was her birthday,” Kelley says. “Have you never heard the story?”
“I’ve heard what I want to hear of it. No one really wants to hear the story of how their parents met and fell in love.”
“You are so weird,” Kelley says to Amia.
“Thanks,” she says sarcastically.
I laugh at them. “Tonight isn’t about us, though. Well, partially. The other part of this is Knox, don’t forget.”
“She’s going to be so mad you brought the whole family,” Amia says. “She told you not to make a big deal out of it.”
“She tells me a lot of things. I guess I forget them because I’m so old,” I quip, and then J.R. is back with our drinks.
I take note of the stage. There’s a microphone front and center, a piano, a couple of guitars, and a bass. The piano is what makes me smile, though. How out of place I thought of J.R.’s piano when I first saw his set. Now, a stage would be odd without it.
Knox doesn’t come out to visit with us before the show like she usually does. I’m willing to bet that she started to visit until she saw we brought the whole family, which is really being dramatic because it's not like there are twenty of us. That’s Knox, though. Dramatic. It’s what makes her a great performer.
The room is crowded, more so than I thought it would be, and I feel myself growing nervous for her. I’ll never not respect Knox and J.R. for being able to go out on a stage and sing in front of hundreds of people. I don’t even like to sing in front of J.R.
The lights go down, and I see Knox’s silhouette appear on stage behind the mike. Her silhouette is tall and thin; and her long, dark, curly hair hangs well past her shoulders. For a second, a brief second, I think I’m looking at J.R. on stage. Then, there’s a spotlight on my Knox Rose. She’s got her guitar strapped around her; her green-and-black plaid shirt hangs open over a gray top; her black jeans are ripped at the knees; and she wears a pair of what used to be white, low top, Converse tennis shoes. Knox’s blue eyes glow in the spotlight; and they’re wide, wild, and free as she plays the opening note of the show.
The crowd is cheering and singing around us, the audience singing word for word every lyric of her song. I’m proud. I have no other choice but to be proud.
I’ve been to many of her shows before, but there’s something different about this one. I feel a smile spread across my face as I watch my oldest girl live out her dream. J.R. is next to me, and I glance at him as he watches his daughter with a type of pride on his face that I cannot define. My heart grows warm as I look at Kelley, Chels, Adam, Jack, and Amia; and I realize that although the story that began right here in this room had many ups and down, it made me. It made my family. It made a love between J.R. and me so thick that I’m certain not even death will separate us. It made Knox Rose, and it made Amia.
If you had told me nearly three decades ago that The Handlebar would change my life, I would have laughed in your face. Who really wants their life to be changed by a bar, anyway?
Tonight, I know that I would not have a beat in my heart, air in my lungs, or blood in my veins if it weren’t for the night of my twenty-first birthday. That one night changed my entire life. It pushed me to break free from the prison to which I had chained myself. Every moment after that night led to my breaking free from all the lies I had ever believed that robbed me of the joy that life truly is. I know that now. I wish I had known that then.
