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Ivy attends her first Imposters show when she is five months old.
We’re playing an outdoor festival in San Francisco. It’s a beautiful summer night, breezy and clear. I strum the notes of the first song and look over to the side stage, where Lyndsey holds Ivy on one hip, and a clipboard in the other hand. Ivy swats at the clipboard.
She’s got my eyes and Lyndsey’s passion for office supplies, with curly dirty blonde hair that makes her the spitting image of Lyndsey when she was a baby.
She’s wearing large, noise-canceling headphones approximately the size of her head. Lyndsey sets the clipboard down and turns her attention to Ivy, pointing to me and trying to explain what’s happening.
I focus back on the crowd and adjust my in-ear monitor so I can hear Priya singing as I play along. It feels good to be playing live shows again, and better to have my family with me. When Lyndsey had Ivy, the whole band might as well have had a baby.
Apollo, Henry, and Priya stocked our refrigerator with salads and easy-to-make foods during those early months when Lyndsey and I were both sleep-deprived and deliriously happy. I’d never been so excited to wake up at 3 A.M.
Lyndsey stayed home with Ivy for the first three months, then she transitioned to working for the Gateway Club two days a week on-site, and from home for the rest of the week.
I watched Ivy during the mornings and afternoons. At first, it was daunting being alone with someone I created.
What the hell do people talk to babies about?
Then, I slowly started to narrate my day. We talked about her best friend, Violet, I showed her my guitars and sang her to sleep, went about my days with her strapped to my chest. Suddenly, we were best friends. I don’t want to brag, but she might have the best music taste of any baby ever. I think she’s got a real thing for The Kinks and Joy Division.
Mikki told me to try the ABCs first, but I ignored her; despite my infinite gratitude. I can text her a question about babies at 2 A.M., and she responds within minutes.
Despite Lyndsey’s initial hesitations, she’s a wonderful mother. She looks at Ivy like she created the universe itself in her tiny fists. Every night when she comes home from work, she makes a beeline for Ivy who squeals in delight and demands to be picked up. They bop around the kitchen together, and Lyndsey talks about her day while I make dinner; it’s a laughably domestic scene for two people who fell in love in truck stops and greenrooms.
Apollo and I face each other for our solos and I slide across the stage on my knees, leaning onto my back as I hold out the final note while Priya strikes a pose. The crowd goes wild. It’s our first live show since Ivy was born, and damn, does it feel good to be back.
We play two encores to satiate the crowd’s demands, then we rush offstage the same as ever. Only Lyndsey could orchestrate the post-show circus one-handed. This time, instead of ripping off her boots, Priya holds out her arms for Ivy, who’s already reaching for her.
“Hello, angel!” Priya coos as she scoops Ivy up into her arms. She kisses her forehead and Ivy gurgles contentedly, grabbing one of Priya’s necklaces.
“Did she like the show?” Priya asks Lyndsey.
“I think so,” Lyndsey says.
“How could she not? She’s got rock and roll in her blood!” I declare. Ivy’s still fixating on Priya, who takes her Godmother duties very seriously. She carries Ivy around, bouncing her softly as she narrates what’s happening backstage.
“After this, we’re going to go to the green room and put comfy clothes on,” Priya explains, “Then, we can walk around the park for a bit and see some other bands, but you’ve got to keep your headphones on.”
“Great set,” Lyndsey says.
“It’s ‘cause my good luck charms are with me,” I joke, stealing a kiss.
Lyndsey hums and runs her fingers through my hair as we kiss.
“You guys, little eyeballs!” Priya yells, covering Ivy’s eyes.
“It’s probably good for her to see that her parents like each other,” Lyndsey says.
“It is! We’re just sick of watching you two make out all the time,” Henry says.
“What Henry means to say is that we’re very happy for you,” Apollo cuts in.
“It’s been a long time coming, but it was worth the wait,” I say.
Lyndsey leans back against me, and we watch our friends play with our daughter, basking in the certainty that our future is bright.
The End.
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