Chapter 13

My friends were not the only people that seemed reluctant to have the evening come to an end. The parking lot still held hundreds of cars and I estimated 200 people were lining the metal barriers that offered Liz a route through the crowd.

Eric, Rick, Chris and Susan had made their way to their cars and headed homeward. Ryan had added Matt and Sarah’s dark SUV to the formation of cars that the drivers pulled around to the exit. It came from a different manufacturer but it looked close enough that no one paid any attention.

Ryan led the way out of the building with two of the security team. Two more flanked Liz on each side – not that it mattered.

The rest of us – Stephanie, Jill, Matt, Susan and me – were at the rear of the procession.

As Liz veered from side to side to take pictures or slap palms, I took in the faces. They were a cross-section of our community. There were men and women; boys and girls; the faces were of European, African, Hispanic, Asian and Native American descent. Their clothing suggested they came from a variety of economic backgrounds.

The demographics didn’t appear to matter to Liz. She didn’t make it a point to pay attention to what outsiders like me might consider an underserved market: minorities. Someone must have announced that she wouldn’t be signing autographs because no permanent markers and slips of paper were offered.

Near the end, Liz saw a handmade sign that captured her interest. It was on bright green paper and was held by two girls that probably were a year or two away from being teenagers. They were obviously twins and the sign read that the concert was their birthday present.

Well, it didn’t actually say that. It just said “Best Birthday Ever!”

Liz motioned Stephanie forward and the tour manager reached into the bag she carried over her shoulder. She came out with two T-shirts exactly like the one that Liz had worn for her last song. I could see a signature on the shoulder. Liz handed the shirts to the girls one at a time and gave each a hug as their parents took pictures.

Then Liz signed the poster board with a pen Stephanie had also provided. I glanced at the words as I walked by.

“I hope you have many, many birthdays to come and that each is The Best Ever. Love, Liz,” she’d written.

The youngsters weren’t looking at their presents or even at the sign that had brought them to her attention. Instead, they clutched the shirts to their chests and their eyes were locked on Liz as she made her way onward. In the space of 20 seconds Liz had added to the memory the parents had provided. I had no doubt that the girls would go to school later – despite the fact they had barely slept – just so they could tell their friends and show off the pictures.

When we got to the vehicles, the procession reversed itself.

Liz stopped and let everyone else get into the cars. Matt and Sarah both had their doors opened by the security guys but I was left to get in by myself. I wasn’t sure if I should be happy that they thought me capable of opening a door or upset that they thought I was unworthy of the gesture.

My consideration ended when the guy that had opened the front passenger door stopped to whisper in my ear.

“You were supposed to get in the other side,” he noted.

“Oh,” I replied, mostly because there was little else for me to say. I didn’t understand the significance and he didn’t have time to explain it. I looked through the open door as Liz gave her fans one more wave and then she got in beside me and Ryan closed it. He gave the SUV a short pat and Matt started out.

The second SUV, housing Stephanie and Jill, moved in front of us and the one with Ryan and a couple of other security guys pulled up behind. As we reached the corner of the stadium, we simply pulled to the side and a different SUV took our place.

It seemed like a lot of cloak and dagger stuff to me – until I saw four assholes on motorcycles dart off after the decoy.

“They’ll follow them clear to the airport or Los Angeles,” Liz said with a shake of her head. “Hell, if they drive off the highway into the ocean, those pricks would take pictures for half an hour before calling for help.”

Matt didn’t take the private exit that the other SUVs had. He joined the line of cars still filing out of the parking lots.

“Your security guy told me I got in the wrong door,” I said. “What’s that about?”

I was beginning to learn that even though things seemed unnecessary to me, there was usually a method to the madness.

“Some of the venues are in pretty shady places,” Liz said. “The parking lots aren’t always well lit. It wasn’t bad here but it’s a little creepy in a few other locations. Ryan wants everyone to enter and exit vehicles from the same side so he can control lines of sight. The only time people enter and exit a passenger side is if they are armed or escorted by someone that is armed. The guy with Sarah a little while ago was carrying a weapon. Uh, I am never to get out of a passenger side unless Ryan is right there to make sure it’s safe. I am always to wait for him to open the door for me. I should have told you this yesterday.”

“I noticed that you stayed put,” I said. “He has you pretty well trained. You even waited for me to open your door.”

“I just did that to see if you would treat me like a lady!” Liz said as she elbowed me in the ribs.

“A lady wouldn’t flash her butt at truck drivers,” I noted as I flicked her on the shoulder. Sarah and Matt seemed content to ignore their backseat occupants. It occurred to me that someone might have told us about the security precautions earlier and I hadn’t been paying attention. That happened sometimes. My comment about Liz’s rear end caused Sarah to turn in her seat.

“I didn’t,” Liz said when she saw the look on Sarah’s face.

“Did, too!” I said. “He even followed us into the rest stop to tell her how much he enjoyed the show.”

Sarah pointed a warning finger at me. I had seen her do the same to Lucas and Brandon often enough I knew what was coming next.

“Behave yourself,” she said right on cue. I recited the words with her. “Travis!”

“Look, Liz needs to understand that we’re going to pick on her if we’re around her very much,” I said. “It’s who we are. It’s why we get along so well. None of us lets anyone take himself too seriously. We’re going to joke with Stephanie; we’re going to pick on Jill; we’re going to bust Ryan’s chops; we’re going to play jokes on the security guys once we know they won’t kill us where we stand. She needs to see us as we truly are.”

“And she will after we get to know each other better,” Sarah said with a sigh. “You didn’t come in your first day and start screwing around with us. We didn’t make fun of you the first time we worked on a project together.”

“Travis has a 16-year head start,” Matt offered. “Look, you said last night that he seemed more comfortable around a superstar than you ever saw him around a normal woman.”

“I resent that remark,” Liz said with a laugh. “I’m normal.”

“Yeah, about that,” I said. “Not so much. Not now; not then; probably not ever will the word ‘normal’ be associated with Liz Larimer.”

“Jerk,” Liz said as she elbowed me again.

“I didn’t mean it that way,” Matt said. “Travis has always been ... I’m not sure how to explain it. He’s hung around us for four or five years now. Women have accompanied him places before with us and he was ... distant. You’ve seen how he acts around Susan and Sarah. He’s like ... he’s like their little brother. He’s always tugging on their pigtails or tying their shoelaces together. Rick is the same way. I look at those four like a family of siblings. Susan is the oldest. She’s the caretaker; the one that thinks things through. Sarah is the ballsy middle sister with the big mouth and sharp tongue. Travis is the oldest brother but still younger than his sisters. He’s the enforcer.”

“And Rick?”

The question came from me because I had never heard the analogy before. I guess it sort of made sense to me as I listened.

“He’s the little brother,” Matt said. “Everyone looks at him like he still needs protection from the big, bad world and can’t seem to understand that he’s grown up. I’m not saying that you don’t take him seriously but ... well, sometimes you look out for him too much.”

I frowned.

“It’s not as bad with you, Travis,” Matt said after he saw my face in the rearview mirror. “But I’ve seen Rick say something on Tuesday that doesn’t become a good idea until Thursday when someone else suggests it.”

“We don’t do that!” Sarah said defensively. “Rick is the idea guy at work.”

“I don’t see you at work,” Matt noted. “I was talking about personal lives. That’s why Chris and I were so fascinated yesterday to watch things. There is a pretty clear hierarchy for social events. Think about the pig roast last summer.”

“What about it?” Sarah asked.

“Who came up with the idea?” Matt inquired.

“Susan,” Sarah said.

“Rick,” I said at the same time.

Sarah turned to look at me.

“He did!” I insisted.

“He did,” Matt confirmed. “He and Eric were talking about how much fun a pig roast might be. Four days later, Susan took the idea and ran with it. I mean, I don’t think anyone made him feel slighted but I got the impression that he wanted to host it.”

“Well, shit,” Sarah said.

“We have the same dynamic,” Liz said. “We all still look at Jill like she’s 22 instead of 29.”

“Twenty-nine?” I asked. “I thought, maybe ... maybe 25.”

“She’s less than a year younger than us,” Liz told me. “In fact, she’s only six months younger than you. I think your birthday is in ... January.”

“December,” Sarah corrected. “December 29th, to be exact. We combined Christmas with a ‘Travis is Getting Old’ party. His mom was out for it and everything.”

“I knew we never celebrated his birthday at school,” Liz said. “We sang ‘Happy Birthday’ when we were younger. Travis was always with one other kid when we got back from Christmas break.”

“I know yours is in early October,” I said with a nod.

“October 3rd,” Sarah informed me.

I gave her a look that she’d seen many times from me – cluelessness.

“She’s sort of famous,” Sarah said in the voice that told me that I was an idiot.

“Oh, yeah,” I said.

“Finally,” Matt said as we pulled onto the highway. “I thought we were going to have to break out the camping gear.”

“Can you imagine what the people in the car ahead of us would have done if they knew Liz was right behind them in line?” Sarah asked.

“There would be a line of autograph seekers back to our neighborhood,” I replied.

“No,” Liz countered. “My fans are ... they know when I sign or take pictures and when I don’t. They are really good about keeping things level. I mean, there are always a few people that recognize me and think I should stop eating or walking or even singing to accommodate them but I don’t think they’re really fans. The true fans are good to me.”

“It’s like I told you when you were changing costumes,” I noted. “You go out of your way to make sure your fans know you care about them. It’s the little things you do. It’s things like showing up in the cheap seats to do a set.”

“That was really cool!” Sarah said.

The fifth set that Ryan had kept secret had turned out to be the only one that I couldn’t see Liz from where we stood. She had appeared in the upper deck of Petco Park and spent the next 25 minutes walking up and down the aisles singing to what had been identified to her as the “worst seats in the house.”

I had to track her progress on the big screen display behind the stage because I could barely see Liz at all from where I stood next to her main stage. I was positive that the people in those seats felt as though they had paid $70 each to watch a concert on TV until Liz had appeared in front of them.

“Even then, everybody understood the rules,” Matt mentioned. “Yeah, security was right there but nobody tried to grab your hand or put their hands on your butt. It was the same with the fans down in front during your first set. They just put their hand out and let you touch it as you went past.”

“That’s how it is almost every time,” Liz said. “I started to pop into the upper-level seats a couple of tours ago. I don’t do it in every venue and there are a couple places that I’ll never do it again. I had to wade through a haze of weed smoke in Tallahassee and Seattle. I felt like I was 10 years old again.”

“Did you hang out with stoners at 10?” Sarah asked.

Liz glanced at me but I shook my head at her. I hadn’t mentioned it. She frowned slightly.

“I guess if you’re going to do marketing and PR for me, you need to know,” Liz said. “My parents grew and sold marijuana illegally for most of my life. They still grow and sell it but now they’re at least on the right side of the law. I convinced them to move to Colorado and to get a license.”