“Be home at midnight,” I tell her.
“Thanks, Daddy.”
As soon as they’re gone, Harrison tsks. “I don’t miss those days.”
“They’re coming back,” I remind him.
“Quinn was so easy,” he says as he looks at his son, and then Oliver who is snuggled into Katelyn’s side. “This one though . . .” He tickle’s Ollie, who giggles. “He’s a handful.”
“But you’re happy?”
Harrison looks over at me and nods.
“Best damn thing to ever happen to me was meeting you at your grandmother’s house. The stuff you said about her on air a while back . . . that really hit home. I owe her a lot.”
I lift my beer and nod.
TWENTY-FOUR
Getting Harrison to sit in was easier than I thought it would be. I asked him at the fire pit the night of the babies’ party, half expecting him to laugh me off, and he said yes before I could even tell him why I wanted him there. Katelyn said he’d been practicing his radio voice in the shower. He denied it, but his cheeks said otherwise.
He’s never been nervous a day in his life, but he’s nervous now. I can tell because he keeps moving the mic Bex already set for him, a quarter inch one way and then right back.
He looks around the booth, taking everything in. “It’s different,” he says, “Sitting here now versus when you brought me in the other day. Now, it seems more real.” He runs a hand along the edge of the desk.
“I felt the same way. When Bex pitched the idea, I said no. Told her to go back to New York. She stayed because she saw something in me. Now . . .” I spread my arms out. “We’re expanding. Not only did this idea grow and sprout, but this gives Elle an opportunity to expand.”
“You built all this out of a call-in show about feelings,” he says. “I’m proud of you and I hate you.”
“Ah, man. Come on, you’re getting me in the feels.” I place my hand over my heart. “Relax,” I tell him. “It’s just talking. People either listen or they ask a group on social media what they’re supposed to do.”
“To how many people?”
I tell him it depends on the night. Closer to the weekend, more people tend to call in. Earlier in the week and people are still recovering from the weekend.
Bex talks to us over the intercom. “You guys ready?”
I nod and motion for Harrison to put the cans on. Bex puts her headset on and begins counting. Paige is watching her and when Bex gets to two, Paige motions that we’re live.
The light goes red.
“Good evening and thank you for tuning into The Love Line. I’m your host, Liam Page.” I let my words sit for a second. “Tonight, I’m not alone. Not only do I have you, my producer, and social media manager, but I also have the man who has kept time behind me for thirty years. He’s not only the drummer in 4225 West, but he’s my best friend, we share grandchildren together, he’s my son’s father-in-law, and although they’re not married, he’s my wife’s best friend’s husband. Please help me welcome my co-host, Harrison James.”
I glance at Harrison and nod. He smiles and leans into his mic after moving it again.
“Evening,” Harrison says, and it’s the least comfortable I have ever heard him sound. The regulars are going to love him.
“Before we take our first call, we’ve got news,” I say. “Some of you have heard me talk about building something bigger than one show. As of tonight, it’s real. 4225 West has its own station.”
Bex cues applause over the air.
Harrison leans in. “A whole channel,” he says. “The records, the deep cuts, the stuff that never made it onto anything. Live concert sound. Us, on the air, being idiots, apparently.”
“Around the clock,” I add. “Everything we’ve ever made, and everything we’re still going to.”
Every line on Bex’s board lights up at once. She holds up all ten fingers, drops them, and holds them up again, which is her telling me the whole country called in the same ten seconds. Harrison looks at the lit-up board, then at me, and mouths a word I can’t put on the air. I point to the screen and show him every name Bex has added.
“Let’s take a call. You’re on The Love Line with Liam and Harrison.”
