by Robyn Nyx
“Tim isn’t ‘most men’ though, is he? You’ve always known he was something special.” Heather wondered if Emma was finally ready to hear her thoughts on their breakup. “Do you think that’s why you broke it off?”
Emma snorted. “He was talking about having kids, and it was too soon. He already saw the white picket fence, gas grill, and riding mower.”
“And you didn’t?” Heather knew her love life gave her no authority to speak of these things, but it didn’t stop her from knowing what love looked like in other couples. Something about Emma and Tim, how they reacted when they met each other and the energy around them when they were together, felt right. And in those lonely moments she experienced far more often than she liked, they’d given Heather hope that love wasn’t just a fairy tale pedaled in Hollywood movies.
Emma fell silent, and her lack of immediate response indicated Heather’s supposition was close to the truth.
“What did he want to talk about?” Heather asked, moving the conversation away from her challenging question.
Emma swirled the wine in her glass as if it were tealeaves and she was looking for guidance. “The future. The past. All of it was deeper than I wanted to go.”
“But you went there anyway?” She asked the question more in hope than in expectation. Tim made Emma happy, and she liked seeing her best friend that way.
She nodded. “A little. And you’re right, smart-ass, I did see a version of forever with him, and it scared me. My dad gave up his music career to raise a family, and that’s a history I have no intention of repeating.”
“Have you ever told Tim that?”
Emma rolled her eyes. “Obviously not until last night, I hadn’t. And yes, I’m sure if I’d told him that the first go-round, we wouldn’t have broken up at all because he’s so super understanding and I’m a self-sabotaging idiot. Does that about cover it?”
Heather squeezed Emma’s knee. “A little bit harsh, but yeah, you’ve covered the main points. And…”
“And he says he’s happy to go slower, so I guess we’re going to give it another go and see how things work out.”
Heather raised her glass and clinked it to Emma’s. “Here’s to second chances.”
“And first ones. Don’t think we’re done talking about your relationship status. What happened with the Savana audition? And let’s talk about this morning’s panicked telephone call since that’s the reason I came over.”
“Fine. But first, we need more wine.” Heather quickly cleared their food to the kitchen and returned with a fresh bottle. She topped up both of their glasses and recapped on the mess she’d made of talking to Louie in the morning, how Louie had been tremendously understanding even when they talked about Mia’s rumors, Louie’s cute text about a kiss, and finally, how Heather had been a complete bitch and rushed out of the café. They were halfway down the bottle by the time Heather had finished.
Emma put her glass down. “Let me see the text.”
Heather became conscious of her phone sitting on the table and used her toe to push it further away from Emma. “I deleted it.”
“I don’t believe you.” Emma jumped up and grabbed the phone before Heather could stop her. “Here it is.” She remained out of Heather’s reach while she read the text.
“What are you doing?” Heather asked when Emma began to tap on the screen.
“Stirring the pot.” Emma tossed the phone into Heather’s lap, picked up her glass, and returned to her seat.
Heather scanned through her phone. I wanted 2 kiss U 2. I’m sorry I’m such an ass. I promise I’ll b worth it. “Oh my God, Emma.” Heather switched it off and shoved it down the side of the sofa.
“I’m just helping you out. So, Louie is just a good old-fashioned, boyish lesbian, then?”
Heather sighed. She couldn’t retract the text, and it was hard to stay mad at Emma for long. “Looks like it.” Heather smiled and thought of Louie’s ass in her oversized jeans, her sexy short hair, and her small breasts. Just enough of a handful.
“Would your attraction have changed if she was…more complicated?”
Heather hesitated before she answered. To anyone else, she would have responded with an immediate “God, no,” but she felt safe with Emma to be more truthful. “I don’t know. I’m a lesbian, and I love women, apparently not just femme ones.” She recalled the brief research into gender fluidity and trans guys she’d done before Louie had turned up for her audition with Savana. “I don’t think I could be politically correct and say that I wouldn’t have changed my mind if she’d turned out to be a trans guy. I really don’t like men that way. I’ve never felt any inkling of arousal from the male…bits. Does that make sense?”
Emma nodded. “Sure it does. We like what we like. And it leaves more for us girls who do appreciate the male in all his glory, perfectly honed or a little softer around the edges.”
Heather was sure Emma was referring to the slight paunch Tim had cultivated since their breakup. She also knew it was a result of the beer he drowned his sorrows in and expected it would soon recede now that he had Emma back. “Except now she probably wants nothing to do with me because I swing from one pole to the other about us dating.”
“Nah, she’ll just figure that you’re a little high maintenance. What self-respecting femme lesbian isn’t?”
Heather swiped Emma’s shoulder gently. “Stereotyping much?”
“Just saying it like I see it, Feathers. Seriously though, do you know if you want to date Louie?”
Heather rubbed at her forehead. All this deliberating was beginning to make her head ache. “I do. Not now, not until the record’s done, but maybe after. If Louie can handle a private relationship.”
“By private, you mean never seen out together. Do you think Louie can handle that?”
“She said she was willing to try. But that was a few conversations ago. God knows what she’s thinking now.”
“If she realizes what an amazing woman you are, Feathers, she’ll still be willing,” Emma said, tapping her nose like an old crone. “How long will the album take?”
“Louie thinks she’ll have it done in a month, and then she’s hoping to get an exclusive writing deal with one of the publishers. I gave her the name of a few contacts.”
She laughed and poked Heather’s cheek. “Look at you, all proud of what she’s doing already.”
Heather smiled as she realized that Louie’s ambition had impressed her. She wondered if it was because it seemed to match her own. Previous relationships had no interest in furthering their careers, or even having a career at all, and that was fine. For them. But they’d wanted Heather to be the same way, and that stifled her and clipped her wings. It’d be nice to spend some time with someone who shared a similar drive. “I like that she has a plan, too.”
“Of course you do. And you two working closely together—you’re going to be able to handle that?”
“It’s been five years since I’ve been in a relationship, Em. I can control myself.” Heather said the words. She heard them out loud. But she wasn’t sure she believed them.
Chapter Twenty-two
“I can’t believe I’d convinced myself that I was going to make it so easy.” Gabe sank into the rocking chair on their back deck and chugged on his third beer. “What was I thinking? Darius Rucker was the last guy like me to make it in Nashville and that was eight years ago.” He threw his arm out dramatically and spilled his drink on his jeans. “Look at me. I’m all kinds of wrong for this music scene.”
Louie listened as Gabe continued his angry assault on the state of Nashville and the lack of diversity in its music. She could only agree. In the past five years, she could only think of one other person of color hitting it big in country, and that was Melanie Goodrich. She came in all guns blazing, signed to Capitol, and then all but disappeared after one hit. And it wasn’t an unacknowledged phenomenon. She’d read that country music was the redneck soundtrack of the racist South. But Louie was certain that
if he was given the right exposure, Gabe could add some interesting flavor to the vanilla sundae that was currently country music.
When he finally took a breath and actually looked as though he might like some input from Louie, she passed his laptop to him. “This is what we’re going to do.”
Gabe took the computer from her, stared at the screen for a while, and then gave it back. “Zuckerberg has a record label in Nashville?”
Louie smiled, not surprised at Gabe’s quick dismissal. “No. And you don’t need a record label just yet. Let’s get you discovered by the people who really matter—the ones who’ll want to buy your music.”
Gabe put his bottle on the table and scooched up in his chair. She’d got his attention.
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve got four thousand friends on Facebook. What if…” Louie leaned closer to Gabe, already pumped about the project. “What if we start posting videos of you singing covers of some massive country hits?”
Gabe’s eyes brightened. “You think that would work? How would that work? Won’t we need a studio? And someone to video and edit everything? What—”
“Whoa!” Louie held up her hands. “Slow down, cowboy. The answer to almost all of those questions is no. We don’t need high tech soundproofing; that would only sanitize your sound. We want to promote your raw and unmastered talent and blow people away with your voice, not some overproduced stylized tracks that might only appeal to certain labels.” She put the laptop down, jumped up, and pulled Gabe to his feet. “I’ll video you on your iPhone. We’ll upload them to your page, do some sharing, and watch you take off.” Louie motioned out into the garden as if Gabe’s whole future were playing on a giant movie screen. “You’ll get picked up by one of the major labels, and with some hard work, you’ll be making history by topping all five country music Billboard charts.”
Louie turned back to Gabe. He was as wide-eyed as she felt, but then his eyes softened and he looked at her with a seriousness she didn’t expect.
“You see all of that for me?” he asked and Louie nodded. “And you want to help me do it?” He put his hand on her shoulder.
“Damn right, I do.”
Gabe pulled her into a huge hug and held her tight enough to make her gasp just a little. He released her, and she felt the wetness of his tears through her shirt.
“You’re like the big sister I never had, Louie. I don’t know how I got so lucky that we crossed paths, but I’m damn glad we did.”
Louie looked upward in a futile attempt to stop the burning tears from escaping. “Me, too.” She wanted to say more but didn’t for fear of choking on her words. He was the little brother she never knew she needed, someone to look after and protect the way her mom had done for her.
Gabe bounced on his heels like a kid ready to start an Easter egg hunt. “When do we start?”
“How about right now? I need to call my mom, but then I’ve got the rest of the evening free.” Louie had kept her mom in touch with everything that was going on by text. Well, almost everything. She hadn’t mentioned Heather yet. Not that she knew what there was to say about her or them. There was no them, and she didn’t know how to handle the way Heather blew her off after coffee. It was clear Heather was conflicted, especially from the way she’d said, “I wasn’t expecting…you.” But the course of true love never did run smooth, and Heather was someone Louie could potentially see a future in. She was witty, classy, ambitious, beautiful, and kind…if only Heather would get out of her own way.
Gabe rubbed his hand back and forth over the fade lines in his hair, then moved to his chin. “Should I shave? Where are we going to do it?” He tugged at the front of his faded and holey white T-shirt. “What should I wear? Should I dress up?”
Louie shook her head and laughed. “So many questions, big guy. We can do it exactly as you are. You look great. We don’t want you to look coiffed, preened, and staged. We want you looking real. Just you and your guitar, full screen coverage.”
“Okay. Right. I’ll go make sure my guitar’s tuned and think about what cover I should do.”
“Go, go, go,” Louie said as Gabe loped off back into the house. She relaxed back into her lounger, picked up her phone, and dialed her mom.
“Noodle Doodle! I was just thinking about you. I’m glad you called.”
As usual, her mom’s enthusiasm made her smile a little wider. “Hey, Mom. How are you?”
“All the better for hearing your voice, Noodle. How are things in the Athens of the South?”
Louie laughed. “Check you out with all your Nashville knowledge. I haven’t gotten around to visiting the Parthenon yet.”
“Make sure you send me pictures when you do. You’ve only sent me a few since you got there.”
Louie shook her head at her mom’s teasing. Louie had sent plenty of photos, including every room in the house, a selfie of her with Savana, and pictures of her and Gabe goofing around the place. “You’re going to run out of room for them.”
“No, I won’t. You know I only get them printed out three-by-five size. One shoebox fits three hundred so you better keep ’em coming. The Savana Hayes one was amazing. How did it go this morning?”
“It went great. She wants me to write the whole album with her. We’re getting started in the morning.”
“That’s fabulous, baby,” her mom said. “I’m so proud of you.”
“I can’t believe everything’s fallen into place the way it has.” Louie looked at the garden and felt a certain peace wash over her. “I found an awesome friend, a house, a writing job…”
“And?” Her mom clearly heard what Louie didn’t say. “There’s a girl?”
Louie grinned and was glad no one was around to see it. The thought of Heather made her feel giddy despite the situation. “Nope, there’s a beautiful woman.”
“What’s her name? How did you meet? Give me all the details. Well, obviously not all.”
Louie wrinkled her nose at the thought of sharing her sexual exploits with her mom. As close as they were, there were still limits. “It’s complicated,” Louie said and then ran through the tale of how they’d met, that Heather was a talent scout and had put Gabe forward to audition for Rocky Top. As she was telling her the rest of the story, Mia came unbidden into her mind. “Mia’s here, Mom.”
Her mom, who’d been making all the appropriate oohs and aahs in all the right places, harrumphed loudly. “Have you spoken to her about all of your stuff she stole or have you gone to the police?”
“Neither—yet.” Louie had no intention of telling her mom that Mia was already causing trouble for her by spreading rumors. She’d go berserk if she found about the lies coming from Mia. “This is a smaller town than you think, and it looks like we’re both here to stay. I’m going to talk to her. Hopefully, it can be amicable. It’s possible we might even end up working together one day, so I need to be professional about this, Mom.” Her mom made the grumbling sound that meant she’d accept Louie’s decision but wasn’t at all happy about it.
“You’ll be careful though, won’t you, Louie? She’s a renegade runaway, that one.”
Louie smiled, solaced by her mom’s protective nature even though she was supposed to be all grown up and able to take care of herself. “I know, Mom. There’s no way I’ll be letting her in to hurt me again. You don’t need to worry about that.” Louie was fast becoming aware her feelings for Mia weren’t completely dealt with, but she felt sure she could make that promise to her mom.
Her mom grumbled again, clearly not fully convinced. “Well, don’t let her anywhere near your new girl.”
“I arrived too late to stop that. They’re already distant friends through a mutual friend.” And Mia told her I was a violent drunk. The thought kicked at her soul, but her spirit lifted at the recollection of how calm Heather had been when she’d confronted Louie with that gem. Most people would simply have steered clear and not even given her an opportunity to tell her side of the story. She wondered
if Mia knew what she was doing when she opened her mouth. Heather had confirmed Mia would be at the Bluebird after their conversation at the café earlier today. She closed her eyes and drifted to the time they’d shared, before thudding back to reality with the knowledge she had to face Mia and find a way to move forward.
“Keep me posted, Noodle. If I have to come down there and sort that girl out myself, I will.”
Louie laughed. When she’d told her mom Mia had left and cleaned her out, she was prepared to do things she’d have to serve time for. “You said that before, and I almost wish I’d taken you up on your offer.”
“Just say the word, and I’ll have her buried in the farm faster than green grass through a goose.”
“How is the farm?” Since Louie had left, her grandmother had died, and it wasn’t a moment too soon for Louie’s mom. She’d always been an oppressive, judgmental woman, and both she and her mom had suffered for it. Her grandpa deteriorated and stopped working, leaving all the hard graft to her mom. It was another reason Louie was determined to make enough of a success here to finally get her mom away from the ugly memories.
“Same old. It’s taking a while to get the last stock off our hands. I’m tempted to let them roam the farm and keep the grass under control.”
Her mom’s response was typically casual, but Louie could hear the tired undertones coming through clear enough. She sounded weary of the life she’d been forced to be a part of just because Louie’s dad had gone AWOL as soon as Louie’s heart began to beat. “You will be able to pack up and join me when I can get you a place, won’t you?” Louie couldn’t bear the thought of her mom having to stay there a moment longer than was absolutely necessary. A familiar metaphorical hand took hold of her throat and squeezed a little harder than it ever had before. She had to get her mom out of there. Louie closed her eyes and pictured herself jamming a finger beneath the thick, glutinous grip of guilt. She pulled it away and swished it into the trash can through a basketball hoop.
