They both turn to me. I look at dad and then pointedly at the box. Tyler’s lips tip and Ivi grins at my “sneaky” ways. Tyler sends his tattooed hand to the box and deposits it on Ivi’s crossed legs. Ivi cranes her neck to look up at him, “Another one for me?”
Dad nods, lips in an easy smile.
“I helped wrap it,” I say, scratching my cheek. I’m excited about this one. “And I helped choose it!”
Ivi smiles at me. “Whatever it is, I already love it.” When she opens the large-ass box just to find a much, much smaller box inside, I snicker. Yup, that was my idea. Ivi sends me another grin and shakes her head, amused. When she tears off the wrapping of the smaller one, her face turns emotional. Ivi observes the blue-ish, umm, is it really blue? Maybe greenish-blue? Dunno. Okay, it’s a Tiffany’s box, that I know cause I’ve done some research. No, I don’t really care about diamonds unless it’s in Minecraft, but yeah, you’ll get it soon, I promise.
Trapping her lip with her teeth, she turns slowly to look at my dad who’s still holding her from behind. “Open it, Kiis,” his voice matches her sentimental expression.
When she finally pops it open, I chime in, “It’s a certified ethically sourced diamond!” See, I’ve done my research! “Did you know that improper diamond mining can lead to soil erosion and strip the soil of its natural nutrients? And soil erosion actually contributes to deforestation.” I move my glasses up my nose, my words come out faster as I go on. “Dust and water pollution are also side effects of unsustainable diamond mining. And don’t forget the human factor! The miners are grossly underpaid, while they work in extremely dangerous conditions.” I’m so riled up at this point that, “And don’t forget child labor!” comes out quite loud.
“Jer was the one who suggested to look for an ethically sourced diamond,” my dad says, winking at me. “He did all the research.”
“I can see that.” Ivi moves her free hand to cover mine. “I love it, and I love the idea that you put so much thought into choosing an ethically sourced one for me. It means a lot, and it makes it all the more special to me. Thanks Jer.”
When Ivi’s eyes go back to the ring with the largest purple stone, her eyes mist over. She half turns in my dad’s lap to look at him. “It’s so special and beautiful. I love it, Tyler.”
“I wanted to get you something as unique as you are.” He looks at her like she’s the most special thing in the universe. “Can I put it on you?”
If these two were a cartoon we’d probably have little red hearts floating around the room. When they tilt toward each other and kiss, I cringe. Seriously, don’t people come up for air? When I make retching sounds, they pull apart with easy chuckles. Dad gives me a feigned death stare. I shrug and he grins at me.
“Now,” Dad says. “There’s this last thing, it’s not exactly a tangible gift, but I think it’ll make you no less happ — ”
“Oooh, can I, please?” I cut him off mid-sentence. I’m so excited about this one, I can hardly wait to tell Ivi! When I plead with puppy dog eyes, he shakes his head once again. Dad gives me a small smile and gestures with his hand for me to go ahead. I grin at Ivi, she smiles back, looking at me like she really likes me. “Like Da — Tyler said, it’s not exactly a present, but, urr, we think it’ll make you happy. Very happy! Like, I’m talking extremely, winning a million dollars, happy!”
“Jer,” Dad stops me with a hint of a smile. “She gets it, happy. Let’s get to the point, shall we?”
“Da — Tyler.” In my head Tyler is dad, and I love him, but sometimes, I don’t know what it is, calling him dad to his face is a bit weird. Usually kids have their entire life to practice saying dad, it comes naturally. Not such a long while ago he was Tyler Lee Adams, a super famous singer and, like, overnight he became my father. Well, I know it’s been over a year now, but hey, I’m getting there. “D — ad has been working with some people in Nepal. Umm, you know, social workers.” Ivi frowns as she listens to me. “Those people who help kids,” I add.
“Jer,” it’s Dad again, smiling at me. “I think Ivi knows what social workers do.” He raises his brows, encouraging me to get to the point.
“So, like I said, he’s been working with people in Nepal to help that kid that you really like and talk about all the time, Raj.”
Ivi’s eyes widen, her mouth forms an O shape.
“By helping Raj, Jeremy means that we’re working on getting him adopted by some family here in the US, far from everything he went through,” my dad explains.
This time Ivi’s eyes don’t just mist over, a real tear slides down her cheek. “Oh,” her hand lands on her mouth. “Tyler, that’s — ” She seems too overwhelmed to go on.
Oh! I get so giddy, having an eureka moment. I blurt out next, “Why someone else, why don’t you guys adopt him?”
They both turn to me with puzzled looks, and then at each other. Slowly, their expressions as though synchronized turn into similar cryptic confused smiles accompanied by a thoughtful frown. It goes on for a few good moments.
Annnd, they’re at it again . . . having one of those wordless conversations. I swear, these two have the neuron mirroring thing down to a science.
Ivi, a year later
“When there’s nowhere to run
When woes scream in my head
When I’m a step away from falling
You’re there
Through the good, the bad and everything in-between
I thank my lucky stars for every look, smile and laugh
I thank my lucky stars for you.”
Tyler sings, his voice gruff and smoky, penetrating my core, just as it does to the rest of the fourteen thousand something people singing along to his voice.
It’s the last day of his recent tour that’s been going on for some long few months. I missed him greatly when he was away. We all did. I decided to join him for the last week. It’s the concluding show. Tonight, after this show we’re going home, together. In a couple of hours, we’ll head back, close the door behind us and go back to being a normal family. As “normal” as life with Tyler can be. In the past year things have fallen into place with a few highs and lows, all worth every second of it. It’s been a bumpy ride having Raj adjust to his new life, to our unconventional family.
At first, I was petrified, excited yet anxious about not failing him. But Tyler was there to dismantle my concerns and insecurities. His faith in me brought and still brings me the courage to accept the fact that together, we can do it. With him by my side, on my side, sometimes I feel like there’s nothing I can’t do. Adopting Raj was nothing like taking care of Jeremy, Raj was my sole responsibility, mine and Tyler. We knew we’d have to help him build trust, trust in us and the rest of the world that thus far gave him none of that sort of reassurance and confidence. Albeit in baby steps, slowly he opened up to us, accepted us. Jeremy had an integral part in helping Raj adapt to his new life. The kid assumed the big brother role as I knew he would and made Raj feel nothing but welcomed and loved.
My heart squeezes at the small, big and significant moments we’ve shared together that eventually made us a little family. I smile, remembering Jeremy’s words from some time ago, “Can you believe it, in a year my family increased by a hundred fifty percent, that’s nutso!” Wild indeed, but so amazingly grand. This family, biological and chosen, this is it. It’s everything.
The music winds down slowly to both Tyler and Max, sitting on stools, their heads dipped, looking at their fingers strumming the cords while Killer accompanies them with slow brush strokes on the drums. As the final notes dissolve into the buzzing venue, Tyler leans down to grab a bottle of water. He takes a long swig and adjusts the standing microphone. He sends the audience a tease of a smile, clears his throat next and the hall silences in anticipation. “You know, these songs,” he tilts his head, contemplating, “they come from somewhere deep inside. When they take form on paper, they start making sense. They become something meaningful, telling your story, my story.�
�� He sends Killer a look over his shoulder with a hint of a smile. Killer nods in agreement. Tyler’s eyes move on to Max who nods, his head somewhat tilted. “Our stories.” He takes another drink of water. “This one tells the story of wild nights, past mistakes and absolution.” The crowd drink up Tyler’s words as I do, mesmerized. “You might know this one. It’s called Unspoken Words.” And the audience roars with excited affirmation.
A reporter for the Rolling Stones by the name of Ron Stern wrote a review of one of the first shows of the tour that stuck with me, and having seen the show a few good times in the past week, I couldn’t agree more with Mr. Stern. He couldn’t have put it better. “Tyler Lee Adams — Unplugged Tour. Visually, it’s a low-key spectacle; musically, it’s superb,” Ron wrote. “We get a more mature Tyler Lee Adams. Pure and strong but also delicate enough to expose all the finer particulars of his performance, which is exactly what you want when you’re listening to one of the best musicians out there stripping everything back. The set list was sublime, with an ideal balance of new and old. The kind of show you’ll remember for years to come.”
Tyler Lee Adams, stripping everything back is my favorite version of my Tyler. The one I get to go to sleep with every night, the one I get to share a life with, the one that is one hundred percent ours, Jeremy, Raj and mine. We get the best version, Tyler unplugged.
Tonight, this show in particular, is more special to me. Tonight, I get to experience it like every other fan. I insisted I be able to watch the show from the audience not from behind the stage, or from the comfort of some back room. I’m standing in the front row nearest to the stage next to Jay and a date he brought with him tonight. Jay, me and Tyler’s hardcore fans, those who waited since the doors opened a few good hours earlier. And it’s spectacular, to be in the core of the excitement, the center of the electricity.
The crowd can’t seem to get enough of Tyler. Even though it’s a toned-down, acoustic show, when Tyler and the guys say goodnight and head backstage the fans go wild, chanting his name like an incantation. And when they get what they were pleading for they go even wilder. A long-ish encore later, Tyler and the guys thank the fans. Max bows while Killer lifts his drumsticks in the air, and they walk backstage. Tyler nods at the crowd and yells, “Goodnight L.A.”
Instead of following Max and Killer’s steps, Tyler walks to the end of the stage, bends a little and sends his hand to me. When mine is secured in his, he helps me climb up to the stage. I get a kiss on the lips to whistles and calls of excitement from an elated mass. Tyler’s smile at me calls for a swarm of butterflies to go wild in my stomach.
“Can I take you home now, Mrs. Adams?” Tyler says to my ear, his voice strained and hoarse and utterly spellbinding. I nod with a soft smile and something that’s so much more than just love. Tyler slides his hand across my back and into my jean pocket. I mirror him, sliding mine into his as we walk together off the stage.
Read other books by Sigal Ehrlich
THANK YOU to every single person out there who read the book!
Liis for being an inspiration for this story, and for being such a beautiful human being in general. I love you, kid.
Nicole Hornbaker, for your magnificent work and priceless suggestions. You always make the editing part so much fun.
BLOGGERS, truly incredible bloggers. I’m forever grateful and humbled by your continuous support. You are simply the best.
And last but not least, my readers. Since Layers was released, I’ve been constantly overwhelmed by your response. You guys are truly amazing, and I could have not asked for better readers.
A special thank you to a very special reader, the fabulous Ms. Kathy Wood Crenshaw. Tons of hugs, friend. ;-)
Dear Reader,
Thank you so much for taking the time to read Unplugged.
So, I have a request. It would be great, REALLY GREAT, actually it would be more than fantastic, if you would leave a review on at your favorite online retailer, Goodreads, or anywhere else you wish. ;-)
Also, I more than love hearing from my readers. Honestly, it’s the best part of the whole writing process. So, send me an email at: [email protected] or chat with me on Facebook.
Thank you for allowing me to share my stories with you, and I hope to be re-invited to your bookshelf with my next release.
Again, THANK YOU!
Loads of x’s & o’s,
Sigal
By her teens, Sigal had already lived in three different continents where she was lucky enough to experience and visit varied places and meet unique people, which only helped fuel her overly developed imagination. Currently, Sigal calls Prague home where she lives with her husband and three kids.
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Unplugged II: Unplugged, #2 Page 17