Just a Positive Pregnancy Test - London Casey Page 0,81

me. “Still got it, huh?”

“They probably think of me as classic rock by now,” I said.

“You have no idea how talented you are, Silas. I think that’s been your biggest flaw.”

“I have flaws?”

“Tons of flaws,” Mickey said. “But that… look what just happened. That guitar you signed. He told you that your music inspired him. You made that guy pick up a guitar and strum. Now look at him. He’s on the road.”

“Maybe I should apologize to him,” I said. “This life isn’t all that easy, Mickey.”

“It is what you make of it,” he said. He folded his hands. “Look, there was a time when you had a chance to really break it big. You remember that? You and me sitting at that little pizza place?”

“Yeah. You knew the owner. He kept the place open all night for us.”

“I heard you that night, Silas. Everything you were worried about. I stuck it out. The ride has been worth it. Maybe we didn’t tour the world on a giant plane with your face on it, but we’ve been to a lot of places.”

“Are you going to cry, Mickey? You’re getting all sentimental over there.”

“I’m not a fool,” Mickey said. “You’re having a baby. A family. You’re not your father, Silas. You’re going to be so involved. This might be your last show ever.”

“Maybe.”

“So you’re really building a studio in your house?”

“Should be done soon,” I said. “Most of the house is done. Mila’s family has a construction company. Her brother runs it. He did all the work on the house. Mila picked everything out she wanted.”

Mickey shook his head. “Coming from the guy who once got pissed that a woman put a toilet seat cover on his toilet.”

I laughed. “Oh, wow. Yeah. That had nothing to do with a toilet seat cover. That was a toxic relationship.”

“I’m glad things are working out. Now, I’m going to turn into a greedy asshole. I am thrilled to hear about you writing music to sell. You’re going to have to really expand your mind on it.”

“What does that mean, Mickey?”

“That means you might send me some beautiful acoustic song but it ends up being a pop hit,” he said.

“Do I still get paid for it?”

“Oh, yeah. A lot. A fucking lot.”

“Then I’m good,” I said. “I’m going to be a greedy asshole too. I want all the money I can get. I want to spoil the hell out of Mila and the baby.”

“Sounds good then,” Mickey said. “Cheers to the past and to new stuff on the horizon.”

A woman passed our table and pointed to me. “Silas. You’re on in ten.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“You should go get your head straight,” Mickey said.

“No need,” I said. “There’s no pressure here. I’m just going to be myself.”

“I never thought I’d see you like this. All because of Mila. I didn’t think for a second you two would end up like this. I figured you were so grumpy and hated the world… and she was so cheery… I honestly thought it would be a good thing for you to suffer through. Somehow you ended up in love with her.”

“That’s life,” I said. I stood up. “You think you have everything figured out, Mickey, and then it all turns on you.”

“Sounds like that could be a song, Silas.”

“Maybe,” I said.

I grabbed my bottle of water and Mickey pointed to that and laughed too.

Most shows I was carrying a good buzz onto the stage with me.

Tonight, I wasn’t feeling it.

It felt like a chore almost. Like I was just trying to get through tonight to get back home.

I took a step from the table and my phone vibrated against my leg in my pocket.

When I saw Tyler’s name on the screen, I lifted an eyebrow.

Knowing the Justa family, they were probably all out in the crowd waiting for me to sing.

I shook my head and answered the call. “If you’re here, I’m-”

“Silas!” Tyler bellowed.

My heart dropped. “What?”

“Mila… she’s in labor…”

I almost dropped the phone.

I did drop the water bottle.

As I turned on my heels, I reached for Mickey.

He jumped back and almost fell out of his chair.

I missed grabbing him and grabbed the table.

I then jumped away, looking at Mickey. “I have to go.”

“Go? Where?”

“Mickey, she’s in labor,” I said. “Mila is in labor!”

“What?” Mickey asked. “How? She can’t be in labor. She’s… how many weeks?”

“Not even thirty weeks,” I said. “I have to go.”

“Shit, Silas,” Mickey said. “You’re…”

“Don’t even say it,” I said. “I don’t give a fuck about