Music City Dreamers

by Robyn Nyx

  “Catnip to the ladies, huh, kiddo?” asked Butch.

  She gave Louie a shove that she figured was supposed to be gentle, but it nearly sent her flying across the pool table.

  “I guess so.” Louie steadied herself and bent over the table to make the break. Maybe three balls smashed into the pockets and Butch gave her what looked like an I warned you stare. Louie smiled as the white ball, still rolling, dropped into the bottom pocket.

  She glanced across the table to see Mia and Diane still loitering with fading intent. Louie shooed them away and turned her attention back to the table. When she looked up again, they were gone.

  “Girl trouble?” asked Butch after she’d sunk another two balls.

  Louie nodded. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

  “You know the best way to get over a girl—”

  “I know, I know. Get under another one. The old clichés are still the best.” Louie shook her head. “That strategy isn’t going to work for me this time.”

  Butch shrugged. “That’s a shame. My girl and I would’ve happily volunteered for the job.”

  Louie grinned. “And on another occasion, I would’ve happily employed you both.” She swallowed against the creeping ball of sadness in her throat and ran her hand through her hair. “You okay to just play pool instead?”

  Butch nodded and slapped Louie across the back hard enough to perform the Heimlich maneuver. “Abso-fucking-lutely, kid.”

  Louie lost count of the games she lost before she sank into a sofa, defeated, and was sandwiched by them both. She raised her current bottle of beer. “I’ll finish this one, then I’m hitting the road.” She tapped her phone in her pocket.

  Butch shook her head. “No need for an Uber, kiddo. We’ll take you home.”

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Heather checked her phone again then looked at the email from Mia on her iPad. The subject line read “Told you to be careful with this one.” She could see it had an attachment, but she hadn’t opened it yet. Something told her it was about Louie, like Mia couldn’t wait to gloat or give her some gossip to ruin her day. When Louie had left her last night, she didn’t know her well enough to have any kind of guess as to where she might go—by the river, to a park. Her least favorite option was a bar or club. If Mia’s email was anything to do with Louie, the last choice seemed most likely. Heather had spent the past painful hours at her own house, worried sick about all the possibilities. It wasn’t like her to be so much of an Eeyore, and it wasn’t like Louie had driven, but she couldn’t help thinking that the worst could happen. Gabe’s text had come in around three a.m. and simply said, Home safe.

  It didn’t say if she was alone and Heather didn’t ask. It wasn’t her place to question what Louie was up to…or who she was with. And yet, the thought of her with someone else felt like a spur digging into her side.

  She hovered her finger over the email, desperate to know what kind of woman Louie was in the heat of an argument. Louie had shown her anger last night, and Heather certainly didn’t begrudge her that. And though Louie’s words stung, she deserved everything Louie had said and probably a whole lot more that she didn’t stick around to say.

  Had she already lost her? Louie wasn’t really hers in the first place. They’d only had one date. One amazing and perfect date in a dream location. And though things had gotten hot and heavy fast in Louie’s truck, there was no judgment in her eyes when Heather told her she wouldn’t be coming in to finish what they’d started. It was a decision Heather found herself regretting now. At least if Louie was really done with her, she would’ve had the memories of one night to keep her warm in her still-empty bed.

  Because ambition was a cold mistress. It didn’t wrap protective arms around her, kiss her neck, and tell her she was the most precious thing in the world. And what did success mean if she had no one to share it with, no one to go home to every night? Over the past five years, Heather had told herself so many times that she didn’t need anyone and that she was fine by herself. She didn’t want to buy into the whole human evolution pair-bonding theory. Why was society so obsessed with finding the “one?” Why couldn’t there be more than one? Why did there have to be anyone at all? Heather strove to be self-sufficient and dependent on no one, and yet here she was, wondering why she’d chosen her career over someone she’d felt a deep and natural connection to. And why wasn’t it possible to have both?

  She touched her finger to the screen and then pulled away as if it had burned her. Mia rambled on about being sorry for sharing, but that she felt like she had to because Heather was her friend. Heather shook her head. They weren’t friends. They were barely acquaintances. Heather knew exactly the kind of person Mia was and she wanted none of it. She had no idea why someone as sweet as Louie would fall for such a…Heather sighed. Mia was driven by ambition and overwhelmed by thoughts of success. Just like her. Maybe that’s why Louie had pursued Heather. Maybe that was the kind of woman she couldn’t help falling for. And maybe that’s why Louie had pushed her away so hard. She didn’t want to repeat mistakes of the past and get hurt.

  Hurting Louie was the last thing Heather had in mind. After their date, Heather had dared to allow herself to think about how being with Louie would be. And all she could imagine were good things. The only stumbling block was Heather’s unwillingness to be…herself. Be out. To say, this is me, and screw the consequences. Wasn’t that kind of personal happiness worth far more than her career?

  Heather downloaded and opened both attachments. A lasso caught on her heart and tightened. Louie. Playing pool and looking sexy as all hell with a couple who were obviously together. Louie. Walking out of the bar sandwiched between the same couple, arms all around each other. What was it about lesbians and threesomes?

  She thought about calling Emma, but she already knew what she’d say—who could blame Louie for finding herself some action after Heather had left her hanging in the wind? She could hear her saying, “I would have done exactly the same…in fact, I have. Several times.” Emma was Heather’s very own Jiminy Cricket and little devil combined, but she didn’t need her to tell Heather she’d made a mistake. Ice-cold fingers already gripped her conscience.

  Heather picked up her phone and quickly thumbed a text.

  I hope you had a good time last night. I…

  No, that sounds snarky.

  I wish you’d stayed to talk last night. I was wrong to expect you to understand why I did what I did. I was wrong to do what I did. I hope you can forgive me. Call me x

  She deleted and added the kiss three times before she left it and hit send. She watched it say delivered. She was surprised to see it read just as quickly. Heather waited for the bubbles she’d enjoyed seeing while they’d played with each other over text in the past couple of weeks.

  None came.

  She didn’t count how many times she revisited the screen while she was getting ready for work, but it was a lot. On no occasion were there any bubbles.

  ***

  Louie tossed her phone back on the bedside table and rolled over. Her mouth felt like the inside of a birdcage, her head was like someone had used it for a bass drum, and her guts were rumbling louder than a freight train. She hadn’t had this kind of hangover in years. But all of it faded into insignificance when she listened to the pain in her heart and head. What was Heather really saying by admitting she was wrong? That now she’d back Louie up if she decided to go to the press? Or did she think that just saying she was wrong would make Louie hit the reset button and start again?

  She turned over and checked the time. It was way too early. Louie had only been in bed a few hours. Heather would be on her way to work, business as usual. She wondered if Heather would think of her when she went to get her morning coffee. She smiled at the thought, but it quickly faded when she wondered if Heather would be working with Savana. Louie didn’t think that Heather’s apology would come with a promise not to work with the Queen of Country anymore, and it wasn’t realistic to expe
ct it to. Heather had a career to think about. Her behavior at Rocky Top yesterday showed that it might be all she thought about, and Louie just couldn’t handle that.

  She saw her phone and remembered Butch and Brunette had driven her home in their car. She looked down to see she was still in a tank and shorts and wondered which one of them had undressed her. Louie wished she’d remembered their names. She was sure they’d told her, but she’d been way too messed up to retain them. She did remember that Mia and Diane were at the bar, and she allowed herself a small smile when she recalled that she’d blown them off. As much as she was hurting, that had felt damn good. It was nice to be over Mia…even if she had fallen straight into another heartache.

  Louie picked up her phone and dismissed Heather’s text message. She had no idea what she wanted to say or if she wanted to say anything at all. Everything that had come out of her mouth last night had been pretty brutal. Louie felt entitled to that outburst, but she had no desire to go at it again. What she needed was her mom.

  “Hey, Noodle, you’re up early.”

  Louie was soothed by her mom’s voice, but it made her wish she was wrapped up in her arms too. She wanted to hear everything would be okay…one day. “Not by choice, Mom. Heather woke me early with a text.”

  “And how are you two lovebirds?” her mom asked.

  Lovebirds. Parrots that mated for life. Is that what Louie was looking for and might never find? “I’m pretty sure we don’t qualify for that title,” said Louie, unable to stop the regret in her voice. She didn’t know why her mom had jumped to that conclusion in the few conversations they’d had when Louie had mentioned Heather…unless she’d given away some hidden, deeper feelings.

  “Talk to me. What’s happened?”

  Louie gave her mom an honest rundown of the events on Friday and their fabulous date on Saturday. She told her all about Heather throwing her under the bus to protect her own career and then coming around the same day, not to apologize but to seek Louie’s understanding. And she rounded off the tale of the bar and Heather’s text apology moments ago.

  “And how has all that made you feel right now, in this moment?” asked her mom.

  Louie closed her eyes and could see herself sitting at the kitchen table, both hands in her mom’s and an earnest look in her mom’s eyes. A calm settled over her that only her mom could instill. “Angry.”

  “No. You were angry last night. How do you feel right now?”

  Louie dropped her shoulders and sighed. Her mom had a way of cutting through the surface crap. “Faded. Like my life has less color in it because I’ve pushed her away.”

  “Did you like this one?”

  Louie pushed her head back into the pillow, not wanting to give the answer but not wanting to lie either. “Sure I did. I thought she was special.”

  “What are you going to do about it?”

  “Nothing. I’ll get over her…eventually.” The words sounded hollow and unconvincing, so her mom was bound to know it was bull.

  “Louie, don’t you remember the inspiration for your name came from the first lady of NASCAR, Louise Smith? And what did she say?”

  Her mom’s use of her name instead of her pet name meant she’d brook no nonsense. This was why Louie had called her. She needed objectivity from the person who knew her best of all. Her mom had always helped her navigate the shark-infested waters of her over-emotional brain. “You can’t reach for anything new if your hands are full of yesterday’s junk.” Louie knew the quote word for word. It had been her mom’s mantra as Louie was growing up. They needed it with the cards they’d been dealt. “But I can’t just forgive her, Mom. If Donny wasn’t paranoid about the damage an unsubstantiated claim would make, he could’ve ended my career with a few carefully placed phone calls.”

  “I know, Noodle, and that sucks. But talk about a rock and a hard place. If she had backed you up, it sounds like it would’ve ended her career. There was no decision she could’ve made that would have been right for both of you.”

  “But, Mom—”

  “No, Louie, no buts. There are no guarantees in this life. Who knows what you would’ve done in the same situation.”

  “I guess,” said Louie, but she wasn’t fully convinced. She was sure that with the tables turned, she would’ve backed Heather.

  “You’re lucky that you’re so comfortable with who you are and don’t care what people think—”

  “Thanks again for that.” Louie had her mom to thank for being so at peace with who she was, and she felt for those who didn’t have that. She’d somehow lost sight of that with Heather, but that didn’t make it any easier to accept.

  “It was a pleasure raising you, baby. But you told me before that people had been fired from Heather’s label for being gay, so it’s little wonder that she’s keeping her sexuality under wraps. I’d love for the world to be an all-inclusive place, but it isn’t and it may never be. And Heather’s working within the parameters of that at one of the biggest labels in the city. So what are you going to do, Noodle?”

  “I’m going to reply to her text and meet up to talk about it?”

  “Don’t ask me, tell me. Noodle, you don’t want regrets. You’ve got to live like you were dying. You know I’ve always said that. But…”

  Louie laughed. “After all that, there’s a but?”

  “But you deserve someone who treats you right, too. I don’t think you can take this incident as any indication of future behavior, but you make sure she doesn’t think she can treat you like the other one did.”

  Louie smiled at the way her mom referred to Mia. The other one. Because there’d only ever been one as far as her mom knew. “Okay. I get it.”

  “Good. I love you, Noodle. You deserve the world.”

  Louie ran her hand through her hair. “I love you, Mom. I can’t wait to see you for the holiday.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  Louie hung up the phone and scrolled back to Heather’s text.

  Okay. Let’s talk. Meet u at TJ’s, South Nashville Fairground at 9 tonight.

  She tossed her phone under her pillow and pulled the comforter over her head. Forgiveness was a wonderful concept until you had to give it.

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Tim held the door open for Heather and Emma to enter. Heather hadn’t seen Louie’s truck in the parking lot and she was fifteen minutes early, making her glad she hadn’t come alone. They ordered at the bar, then chose a booth midway through the main bar area. Heather surveyed the room without making eye contact and tried not to look like she was cruising.

  “Do you want us to leave you alone now or do you want us to wait until Louie comes?” Emma draped her arm over Tim’s shoulder and sipped her wine.

  “Would you stay? I’d feel strange sitting here by myself with you guys across the room.” Heather didn’t want to be by herself. She’d heard nothing from Louie after confirming tonight’s…meeting? She guessed it wasn’t a date, but at least Louie had agreed to see her again.

  Emma winked and squeezed Heather’s arm. “Of course, Feathers. We’ll stay in case she stands you up.”

  Heather pulled away and scowled at Emma. “Thanks. I really needed that. Especially when it’s a distinct possibility that she will.”

  Emma lightly tapped Heather’s hand. “Don’t be so defeatist. Louie’s not stupid. She knows she shouldn’t let you go.”

  “Let you go where?” asked Louie when she walked up, her hands shoved deep in her pockets.

  Heather had gotten so used to her soft, melodic tones that hearing her speak had become addictive. But there was a harsh edge to her voice tonight that repeated and echoed Heather’s betrayal.

  “Nothing,” said Emma. “It doesn’t matter. We were just keeping her company until the main act arrived.”

  Emma slid out of the booth and gave Louie a hug as if they were friends. Louie looked awkward, and Heather saw her use one arm to half-hug Emma back. Tim did the cool dude nod in Louie’s direction, and sh
e returned it with a dyke style that made Heather twitch down south. She’d always admired that kind of outward, screw-you-all confidence that butch women strutted so naturally, like it had been handed out at birth along with their sexuality.

  Emma and Tim drifted away, and before Louie had settled in opposite, a server was at their table.

  “What can I get you tonight, Louie?” she asked in a heavy Georgia accent.

  Heather thumbed the lipstick away from the edge of her glass, trying not to react to the familiarity the server had for Louie. How often did you have to come to a place like this before they knew your name?

  “Bud Light Lime please, Ness,” said Louie and looked at Heather. “Do you need a top up?” Heather shook her head. “Thanks, Ness.”

  Louie smiled and it reminded Heather what she’d lost. “You must come here a lot for her to know your name.” Heather gave herself a mental shin kick. She sounded all shades of jealous and possessive.

  “It’s one of the benefits of belonging in a community. People get to know your name and they look out for you.”

  Heather didn’t respond and they sat silently. Louie’s words set the tone for the rest of the evening. And whether or not she meant it that way, it felt like a shot at Heather’s lack of willingness to engage with the LGBTQ community.

  The server returned with a Bud and a glass covered in ice.

  “I’d kept a glass on ice ready for you,” she said.

  Heather’s jealousy ramped up a notch, and she enjoyed a mental image of slapping the server six ways to Sunday.

  “That’s sweet of you, Ness. Thanks.” Louie placed a ten on her tray. “Keep the change.”

  Louie rubbed at the etched glass on her bottle, and it reminded Heather of the old-style paper labels people would pick off because they were bored. Was Louie bored already?

  “Thanks for agreeing to meet me, Louie. I was worried about you last night.”