Cantrell: The Middle Years

First Sunday of Winter, a Cantrell: The Middle Years, Update-2

Erik and Kayleigh got out of the Hovercraft, carefully parked as close to the elevator as possible. Joking, kibitzing, as good friends will often do, he guided her into the lift, first. With a punch of a button, they made it to the upper deck in a flash.  Which was adventitious, six o’clock had just struck. Stepping out again, they soon learned a cool light breeze came off of the ocean, moving the air over the water, rifling through their locks. Cool, but not uncomfortable. Moments after they strode to the front of the PBP Studios Lounge where Erik soon lost his jovial mood.  

Normally, Erik was excited by the time they reached the awards venue. Until a moment ago, tonight was no exception. Concerned, Kayleigh took a look around instantly seeing what her husband was reacting to.  Placing a hand on his arm, she whispered, “Honey, lay it aside. The venue security will escort him off of the lot. Don’t let him steal your thunder. This is your night, not his.”

Erik quickly walked toward the building while Remington threw his habitual fit.  Kayleigh jogged to keep up with him. Instead of taking all of the steps upward, he spared them both the trouble, beaming them to the second floor near the final staircase to the TV studio on the third floor.

Once seated, Erik opened up.  “I’m going to have to do something I’ve tried my very best to avoid. I’m going to have to press charges against the man. Trespass, Stalking, harassment. Who knows? Maybe the threat will be enough to deter him.”

“I don’t see that ending favorably,” Kayleigh said. “It’ll ruin your reputation for one. And what affect will that have on the majority of your fans? They truly love and respect you, you know. At least most of them have a good grip on boundaries.”

“You don’t understand. I don’t want to do this. He’s threatening us, all of us, the kids included, by the very nature of his behavior. His constant intrusion into our lives. Into our home.  What if he breaks in, however silently he manages to do that, while we’re sleeping? We all know he can skirt the best security measures. I’m facing a world tour. How can I possibly go off and leave you and the children so vulnerable? Answer me that.”

“Erik, I don’t want us to be left behind. We all want to go with you. And right now, I’d much rather you start taking some deep breaths and simmer down. Besides, the Show is about to start.” She said, eyeing the Host as Gary Rachel took the center microphone, tapping it lightly with his index finger, testing it. The muted buff, buff, buff sound, came over the speakers.

“This is a grand night, isn’t it?” Gary began. “The last of the Four Big Nights of this year. So much rides on tonight. One can feel the tension in the air, the electricity of hope tingling upon the skin. And now without further ado, it’s time to reveal this year’s Album of the Year, starting with the Rock N’Roll category. Keeping in mind that a win in this category no matter the genre, will fulfill that needed fourth pillar. Let’s just see what Fate holds, shall we?” Here Gary grinned, almost as if he had a secret and enjoyed taunting the audience with that knowledge.

“Five outstanding artists have been nominated for their work, but only one will receive the grand prize. And only one in this category stands to make a Clean Sweep. Who will it be?” The man used his hands as he spoke. With this last question, he put a long index finger against his cheek. As he listed the names, images filled the screen behind him of the artist named and the cover of the album nominated.  “The nominees are James Redding, for his Take That; Willow Madeleine for her August Moon; Ralph McIntyre for his Just Fiddlin’ Around; Donna Fairchild for her Breathe, and Erik Cantrell for his Splash Down!  So, let’s get at it, shall we?” The Host grinned and cleared his voice.

“‘For bringing such aural beauty to the ears of Sims around the world . . . The Album of the Year, 2285 goes to . . .”  with this pronouncement, the Host pulled the heavy cardstock rectangle out of the envelope with ease. Reading it quickly, he said, with a huge smile. “For the third time, Erik Cantrell, for his Splash Down! Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a Clean Sweep for the year 2285. For an unbelievable second year in a row.  I’m telling you; this man is on an incredible roll! Congratulations, Erik! I don’t know how you do it. But you never cease to amaze. This is one great album, I listen to it all of the time.”

Standing up, Erik straightened his jacket, pulling on the hem.  Silently, he drew in a very deep breath and let it out slowly trying to regain his sense of calm. He stepped over to the small stage, skirted the low fencing and approaching from Stage Right, he stood for a moment of silent contemplation before the microphone, trophy in hand. To You, O Lord. 

Then a bright smile took over his handsome features.  “You’re not the only one amazed,” he said. “This is more than I ever imagined, even in my wildest dreams, I just never conceived such a thing would ever happen to the likes of me. I am truly a blessed man. Ten years into this business and here I am again. Thank you so very much. The honor is nearly as heavy as this beautiful award. Believe me, it’s a good thing I work out.” 

“Of course, music doesn’t happen in a vacuum. My team over at Taygeta Studios has a great deal to do with the success of this album., all of my albums, as a matter of fact.  Ryan Ricks, my record producer; Toby Gleason, my recording engineer. Likewise. Michael Perry and Richard Foreman who expertly oversee the mixing,” Waving his free hand, he smiled into the camera and said, “Hi, guys. They pour over each and every track, missing nothing.”  Holding up the award, he smiled, “There’s no way I could do this without any of you. You’re the best. I am honored to work with you.”

“I would like to strike a serious note, if I may. I wish to fully acknowledge my countless fans from all over the globe. You’re the very best. The cream of the crop when it comes to fans.  Every note I write, every word I choose has my fans in mind. You are the very reason I’m here. Never forget that, please. I know I won’t.”

“Thank you to the Academy, for the nomination, and to those who vote. I am more honored this time than the very first time, if that’s possible. I never expected to have such feelings wash over me. This never gets old, rather it only builds in momentum. I keep awaiting the crescendo, but also fear it. Thank you so very much. Good night, everybody. Kids, time to hop off to bed.”

The couple left the venue shortly thereafter, to relieve their sitters. The young parents were all too aware that their children could be likened to loveable hooligans such as T’Pran had described Erik and his siblings early on. 
“You’re kidding, she really said that of the four of you?”
“She most certainly did. I’m also too aware she was probably directing it at me, as I had the audacity to come to the table bare-chested.” 

“Hm, I see. That would never do in the household I grew up in.”
“Nor mine, normally. I just lost my head for a moment. And I was famished. Getting to the table to eat was top priority. I’m certain I embarrassed my parents.”  “Thanks Dad,” Erik said, giving his father a hug, as the man donned his winter coat preparing to head back home. 

“My pleasure, and for the record, you’re kids are far better behaved than either of you give them credit for. Not angels, exactly, just sweet, exuberant kids. They gave you quite an ovation, I must say.  Congratulations on the well-deserved win and good night to you both. Get some rest. I’ll see myself out.”

As Erik and Kayleigh went from bed to bed, each tucking in their children, it soon became clear Kayleigh had plans of her own in mind, flirting with him in between beds. “Come on, while it’s still safe,” she said, a glint in her blue eyes.

They no sooner had changed for the night, when she all but accosted her famous husband.

Before Erik knew it, the two tumbled onto their bed. “Are you sure we’re in the clear?” Erik asked. 
“Not at all,” She purred. Under the covers they dove.

They both slept, soundly that night.  

All for now, thanks for reading!