Sweet Little Thing(28)

“Me? Not very much, if I’m being honest, Frank. I’ll get my money no matter what happens to Chad.”

Chad and Michael remained quiet while Frank slowly shook his head back and forth with a look of pure disappointment on his face.

“I have a baby on the way,” I pleaded.

“You really just want to give up on Chad and roll over for these dummies?”

“I don’t even know what you’re suggesting.”

“I’m suggesting that Michael and Chad go back to the label and tell them that pushing the release is fine. Tell them they’ll get their ballad and hit. Meanwhile, Chad will start performing up and down the East Coast as part of the Will Ryan Band. You can promote yourselves online and gather a following. People will get to know Chad and get to know the way ‘Soldier’ was written. That song could be an anthem, it has a hook, but the label is right—it’s not commercial, it’s original.”

“I can’t leave Mia and go on the road while she’s pregnant.”

“Hold on a minute, Frank.” Michael finally found his voice. “Are you saying that we leave the album as is and that Chad starts performing the songs under a different name?”

“Legally, we can make it happen. Will, get Mia down here. I’m not suggesting you leave her. We need her. I’m suggesting you both go.”

“I don’t think she’ll be into it,” I said.

“Let’s see what she has to say.” He motioned for me to pick up the phone and call her.

I grabbed my cell phone and texted her: ARE YOU BUSY?

JUST TAKING THIS PHOTO TO SAY THANK YOU. She sent me a photo of her naked from the waist up, wearing all my Post-it notes like a bikini top.

I replied, I LOVE IT! CAN YOU GET DOWN HERE? WE NEED YOU. PUT ON A SHIRT FIRST.

Everyone filled their coffee mugs and waited for Mia to come down. When she came in, she smiled and said hello and then took a seat at the table. Frank, in his typical fast-talking fashion, basically laid down the whole situation for Mia. At the end of a very long speech, he said, “What do you think, sweetheart?”

She looked at me first. I didn’t give her any indication of how I was feeling. The truth was that it sounded interesting to me. We could do some live shows together and then during the week go back into the studio and work.

“Come May, I won’t want to go too far from home.”

I nodded. Her voice seemed small. She was looking for my approval, but I wanted her opinion.

“What do you think of Chad?” I asked her.

“I think he’s a great singer,” she said immediately. “I think the music we wrote for him gives him way more credibility. I can teach him how to get by on the piano. I wouldn’t want to see the label turn him into a brand so quickly either.”

“So you’ll do it?” Frank said.

“Yes.”

He stood up and placed his fedora on his head and said, “I’ll get you guys some bookings. Will, you need to find a drummer.”

He left the room and it seemed all problems were solved.

“So, I guess this means we’re a band,” Chad said with a goofy grin.

We had our work cut out for us.



TRACK 10: The Way It Is

Mia continued going to the birthing-method classes with Jenny while I worked with Chad in the studio, preparing for the upcoming shows Frank had booked for us. We had to keep things quiet with the label, so I had to find people I trusted. I hired Dustin, a drummer from the band I used to be in. I hadn’t talked to him for a long time after he hopped in bed with my then-girlfriend, Audrey. I got over it quickly, though, when it occurred to me that she had f*cked him right back. I never had to worry about stuff like that with Mia. Anyway, Dustin hated the record labels, so he posed no real threat. He was on board for the shows in a heartbeat.

We played around town mostly and Boston a lot, anywhere with a music scene that was in driving distance. Mia enjoyed the shows even though her growing belly was making playing more and more uncomfortable. Chad sang well; he had a good stage presence. I noticed within a few weeks people started coming up to us at the end of the shows. We had a pretty decent following for our tiny tour. As time went on, we noticed that when we played the song “Soldier,” which had a very catchy and loud chorus, the crowds would sing along to it. We’d played about three shows a week for five weeks before the label caught wind of our little plan.

They couldn’t technically put a stop to it, but they moved Chad’s release date up. They wanted to get the single for “Soldier” out before bootlegged copies from our shows were floating all over the Internet. Frank’s plan had worked. Chad had his own original sound, thanks to us. I made peace with giving him the music, and by the end of the five weeks, I actually liked the kid. He was a quick study. Mia taught him some basics on the piano, and by the end of our shows, he was coming up with new music.

We all parted ways amicably. Frank moved on to look for the next big thing. I went to work with new musicians in the studio, and Mia went back to her obsession with being pregnant.

“I’m as big as a house,” she said one night into the mirror above our dresser as she examined her naked body from every angle.

I watched her from the bed where I was propped against the headboard. I looked down at my own stomach and noticed it was a bit harder to see those ripples Tyler had so blatantly observed. I might have put on a few pregnancy pounds myself.