Cantrell: The Early Years, Part SIX

Erik’s Magical Mystery Tour, a Cantrell: The Early Years, Part Six, Update

Erik popped the application for licensing his latest song into the mail. Almost instantaneously, as if there were sensors in his mail box, he got word it was nominated.  He stared at the text on his phone for just a minute. How do they do this? Again, he felt a tremor of guilt roll over him, as if the thought the industry was rigging things toward him, was true. He didn’t really think so, but stranger things in life had happened. 

Instead, he did his best to keep Father James’ words uppermost in his mind. This is what he’s supposed to be doing.  Still, it just didn’t sit well. The charity event was nice, and they achieved their goal, yet he still had a sensation of emptiness. What more should he or could he be doing with his gift?

A thought occurred to him suddenly, which made him wary. I need a vacation. I just need to get away for a bit, clear my head.  They had recently tried for another baby and Kayleigh was sad to learn the test was negative.  “We just need to try again, honey,” he had tried to console her. “Did you know it takes the average couple three months to conceive? Try to relax, I promise it will happen.” 

They both needed to relax. That’s when he went inside and ran his idea passed her. “Why don’t we take a small vacation. Just a little breather. Get away from here. Away from the prying eyes and the hubbub. Then we can come back, celebrate the new year with fresh eyes. What do you say? Next weekend is going to be another rat-race, killer of a weekend. New Year’s and the Starlight Accolades.”

A slow smile spread across Kayleigh’s beautiful face, when she said, “You captured another nomination, haven’t you? Okay, where are you thinking of taking us?” She asked, eagerly, to his delight. She actually smiled a second time. 
“What about Nordhaven? I can find a small rental place. We can take one of those Historical tours.”
“So do it. What about the boys?”
“We’ll take them with us. They deserve a vacation, too, don’t you think?”

“Well, both of them have been working hard. They learned to wave and blow raspberries. Clap. Oh, and they each have said their first words.”
“Spoken like a properly proud Mama. Let’s do this.”

That Sunday, the four of them attended church. Rather than stay for Coffee Hour, Erik simply said, “We’re off for a wee vacation. See you next Sunday.” Instead, they waved to their church family, the babies doing likewise, Jamison was quick to blow a kiss or two, his latest trick as they headed off to the Planetary Travel Port. Bound for Nordhaven, he told no one, hoping Kayleigh hadn’t said something to her mother. Drake was right. Carina was a security risk. Erik was a whiz at planning parties and things, he had their reservations completed in no time. He even did it so last-minute, he thought he’d gotten the jump on this “Entourage”, as he began to refer to them.

The flight was long and cajoling the infants to keep them quiet, so as not to disturb the other passengers, was exhausting. Erik had a passing thought he should have charted a private jet. Since he was more or less fleeced a few years back regarding the postponement of his first world tour, which the companies chose to cancel, instead, leaving him the tab, he was a bit cautious. His bank account was more than healthy enough. He did concerts, daily, as well as photoshoots. More and more often he was also asked to promote either a song, or a digital book, which he did easily. A few clicks on his phone.

The couple took a cab to their rental. Erik wore a slight disguise, a cap and sunglasses which really was silly, nor was it much of a disguise. He wore glasses, normally and hats in the cold weather. He supposed the twins on their backs was a dead giveaway, too. Plus, his wife’s luscious long blonde locks.  He began to realize they could have been followed to the rental. Either way, they barely arrived when they each let out a heavy sigh. Two such Paparazzi were there as if awaiting them. Even as he stood on the porch and watched, that group grew in size. A stream of them formed a queue. Then Erik had a better look at the first two. One was Remington, to his complete chagrin.

“Come on,” Erik said to Kayleigh. “Grab the babies and let’s go. I feel like taking a tour.” Babies on their backs, the couple took off at a light jog, that grew faster as they ran down the nearest side street.  Ever glancing back to see if they were being followed.

“Come on, this way, down these steps.”

“Erik, wait,” Kayleigh said, after awhile, coming to a stop. “I’m all out of breath.”

“Where to?” Erik said.

“Look, there’s a notice on that church, it says they give tours,” she said.

“Let’s go,” that fast Erik, with Jamison on his back, disappeared inside. 
“Honey, not so fast, please,” she said. For an awkward moment, she stood on the church steps. Then she and Andrew also disappeared behind the church doors.

When they both completed the tour, they decided it was time to head back to the rental unit.  To their dismay, they barely got indoors, before they were followed inside. The children needed to be fed, bathed and put to bed.  Suddenly, these people felt comfortable invading their privacy as a matter of course. Erik decided to just carry on. He knew some stars actually signed up to live their lives in front of a camera. The whole Reality Show spate. He did his best to spoon a mouthful into Andrew, who was having none of it. He created such a fuss, and a mess, his little round cheeks smeared with food.

Giving up, Erik just let him out of the highchair. He fully expected to be labeled as the worlds’ worst father. Let them think what they want, he thought to himself.

Quietly Kayleigh got the babies washed up in the tub.  They even put them into the portable cribs the manager had provided. But it was of no use. Erik was even more the restless tiger than before they left. She had to admit, she shared his feelings. What started out as a fun idea, quickly turned into nightmarish proportions. 
Erik came out of the single bedroom, leaving the door ever so slightly ajar. Hands on his hips he gazed at her. “I’m so sorry. I think we just need to pack up and go home. Like right now.”

“That should be easy, we haven’t even unpacked,” she said, casting the interlopers a side glance. “I guess others are entitled to vacations, but not us.”

The flight home, since Erik charted a private jet, this time, was about as quiet as he realized things may ever get for them. He found himself giving serious thought to just dropping out of the music scene. Would that call them off, though? He wondered.

Back home again, they got their boys into their own cribs and decided to have a light dinner, of leftovers.  Making the rounds, Erik went into the sunroom/laundry room, taking the new stairs down to his basement.  The paint was still fresh, but the odor not overwhelming.  He glanced about, checked the bathroom, making certain he and his family were truly alone.  Kayleigh met him as he came back upstairs.

“I’m so sorry, Kay-Kay,” he said. “Another disaster . . .”
“Shades of our Honeymoon.” She shrugged. 

“Come with me,” she said, “I know what you need.”

More to come . . .