“I forgive you.” She flinches in her seat. “It doesn’t change what happened between us, but I can’t keep on living life, expecting someone like you to come out of the shadows and tear me down again. I guess, I needed this closure more than I thought.”
“Me too,” she says, staring down at her hands, wringing together in her lap. “He didn’t ask me to do this, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
“Alex?”
“He didn’t even know I was here. The fact that I ran into Alex yesterday at the diner was pure coincidence. When I brought up why we were in town, he spent the entire time talking about your family’s farm. Trying to convince me to talk to Connor to offer you a deal, but we had already talked to your lender, and the ball was already rolling. We actually came into town to meet with your father.”
Dad knew they were coming? Why didn’t he tell me? Why hide something that could potentially change our lives?
“Ashley, honey,” Connor calls out from the barn, as he and my parents exit it. “Come on over here and meet The Moulton’s.”
We both slide from our seats, unsure of what to say next, until I reach over and pull her into a hug. Her body stiffens against mine, but she finally relaxes. As she pulls away, she whispers a soft thank you, before joining her husband with my parents. I watch quietly from the porch, as Ashley and Connor speak with my parents for a few minutes.
“How long did you know?” I ask Dad, when he and Mom join me.
“Clayton called, while you were in Louisville with Alex. I didn’t want to get your hopes up, until I had a chance to meet with them.”
“He’s telling you the truth, honey.”
“Did Alex know?” Dad’s face falls.
“He didn’t.” Dad stops, before speaking again. “I think you need to talk to the boy, Lizzy. I know you don’t like what he did, but he was doing it for you, and for our family. He had good intentions.” He states, settling into the chair next to me, rocking as I think. He’s not wrong. Alex was doing it for all the right reason. He just didn’t go about it the right way, but I also overreacted. I didn’t give him the chance to explain. I saw Ashely, and the rest went spiraling out of control. Like Ashley, I owed him an apology. What happened after that would be left up to him.
“Are you going to run over there, or am I going to have to drive you?”
I look at both of my parents, before leaping off the porch and breaking off into a run, until I hit The McCloud fence row, entirely out of breath. I don’t let that stop me, but instead, hop the fence and come skidding to a stop in their gravel driveway, when I find Alex’s truck gone. Maybe he’s just out. I look around the property, but there is no sign of movement. I walk up the porch and test the handle, only to find it locked. I do the only thing I have left and peer inside. The kitchen table is cleared, and a white sheet lay over it.
Alex is gone, and this time, it’s my fault.
“Go after him, Lizzy,” Mom tells me, when I dejectedly walk back from finding his house devoid of him and any of his belongings and relay the news to her in the kitchen. Has she lost her mind? How would that solve anything? It would only make it worse.
“I don’t think I can. Not after what I said to him.”
“Did you mean what you said?” She asks with a watchful eye, while stirring a pot on the stove. “Is that really what you want?”
“At the time, I did, but after Connor and Ashley, I just don’t know. How can I be this conflicted, Mom?” My forehead hits the doorframe in front of me in my own version of a head desk. “Why are relationships so hard?”
“Quit denting that oak like that.” She swats me with her spoon, when I don’t stop. “Relationships aren’t easy, because if they were, they aren’t worth having, Lizzy. Especially not in the beginning, and when you and Alex have so much history together.”
“And he’s famous.”
“Alex has been on a stage, since the two of you met. Just because it’s a grander one, doesn’t mean it’s any different.”
I know she’s right, but it’s not that easy. Alex and I are complicated. We are on the polar opposite of the life spectrums, and being together, isn’t going to be as simple as Mom thinks it is. His life comes with the media, tours, parties, and recording studios. How can I balance that life with my responsibilities here? I can’t leave my parents to deal with the farm on their own.
“Your mother’s right,” Dad’s low, sullen voice declares from the doorframe of his office. “You need to go after him.”
“But what about you and the farm? I can’t leave that all on you.”
“You can.” He smiles, as he approaches. “You’ve given up your life helping us here. It’s your turn to go see the world and make your mark on it.”
My brain feels like it’s going to explode from the confusion swirling inside of it. I can’t do that to them. Things aren’t even official between the farm and Griffin’s lucrative offer. What if they decide to go a different direction? I can’t leave, until I know my parents will be okay.
“We’ll be fine.” Mom joins Dad, linking her arm around his waist. “It’s not every day that you get this kind of opportunity, Lizzy. Go, or you’ll regret it the rest of your life.”
“But Mom…” I start, before she hushes me with a finger pressing to my lips.
“Lizzy, that boy loves you, despite everything that’s happened.”
“He hurt me, Mom. How can I forgive him for that?”
“Forgiveness isn’t about forgiving the hurt. That feeling is always going to be there, but you have to make the decision if the hurt is worth what you could have with him. I’ve watched the two of you moving towards this moment, since you were little. Just give him a chance.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
Dad moves from my mom’s grasp, walking towards me and grasping me by both of my shoulders. “You need to do this, Lizzy. If not for him, but for you. Go.”
Dad’s right. I need to do this. For the sake of closure, and to apologize to him. I owe him that much. Anything that comes after that, will be up to him. Both of my parents look to me, smiles forming on their faces. Dad steps away, releasing me from his fatherly grasp, allowing Mom to pull me into one of her world-famous hugs.
“Let’s go get you packed.”
It doesn’t take long to throw together a few days’ worth of clothes with Mom’s help. Dad helps me carry my bag out to Big Red, and stows it in the passenger side of the cab. They both hug me, and Mom slips me a couple of one-hundred-dollar bills into my hand. “Find him, Lizzy, and make this right,” she whispers against my face, as she hugs me again. “Let us know, when you get there.”
I haul myself into the cab of my truck, tossing my purse next to my bag, and plug in my still dead phone into my car charger. I know the way to Nashville by heart after many trips for farm supplies and a few concerts with one of my cousins. I just don’t know where he lives, and I really can’t use Google to find his address. Not unless his house is listed on the CMA house tour maps. My only hope is that he will answer me, if I call or text him. If he doesn’t, I have three hours ahead to come up with a plan B.
14
After getting stuck in traffic off of I-65 for over five hours thanks to an accident, I don’t get into Nashville, until nearly 9 p.m. The last forty miles, I could barely keep my eyes open. I tried everything I could to keep myself awake. Singing horribly off key to the radio, chewing gum, and overloading on the biggest truck stop fountain coke, I have ever seen. Nothing helped. My search for Alex had to be postponed. There is no other choice. The longer I’m on the road, the more dangerous I am to the other people around me. Finding a hotel just off the interstate in an area that doesn’t look like I’ll be mugged, before I get inside, I check in for the night.
After I get to my room, I settle in, calling my parents to let them know I had made it, and where I’m staying just to be safe. The few texts I fired off to Alex remain unanswered. If he doesn’t answer me by morning, I’m going to have to be
creative in tracking him down. I take a quick shower, and stuff a burrito, that I had grabbed from the fast food place across the street, into my mouth, before finally calling it a night. Just as I start to fall asleep, my phone busses on the nightstand. I fumble it, sending it free-falling to the floor. Hanging over the edge of the bed, I grab it, only to frown in disappointment. It’s not Alex, but a reminder to pick up our weekly feed delivery. I text Dad the reminder instead, only to receive a video back from Mom. I beam wide at a familiar, pain in the ass black and white face, mooing at me with the caption “Guess Who’s Home.”
I immediately call Mom. I don’t even give her a chance get a full hello out, before I’m speaking into the receiver a mile a minute.
“Don’t tell me she escaped and came home.”
“More like the farmer who bought her brought her back. Seems she’s more trouble than she’s worth.” Mom and I both laugh, knowing it’s damn well true. A pain in the ass that I’m glad to see home.
“It’s not just her, Lizzy. All of the heifers we auctioned off are back.”
“How is that possible?” I reply shockingly, sitting upright in the bed.
“We came home from town, after Mooella came back home, and there they were. Back in the pasture. We found a note in the mailbox just an hour ago.”
My breath hitches. “Well, who’s it from?”
“The card wasn’t signed, but it says, ‘These ladies belong with their family. Michael saved my family once, and now, I’m returning the favor. Keep the history alive.’ Any idea who that could be?”
“Mom,” I gasp. “There was an old man at the auction who talked to me about Grandpa. He never told me his name, but he talked about working with him on a farm.” Could it be him? I wish I had gotten his name, before he disappeared now. We chat a few more minutes, before I begin to yawn every other word.
I try Alex one more time, but his phone goes directly to voicemail.
“Alex, it’s Lizzy. I know I hurt you. I shouldn’t have said those things. Ashley and her husband came to the farm today, and she told me everything. This is all my fault. I should have heard you out, and I shouldn’t have pushed you away.” I stop for a second, trying to center myself, but I know there are only a few seconds left, before the time limit cuts me off. “I’m in Nashville, Alex. Please call me back. We need to talk.”
I cry myself to sleep for the second time in my life with a prayer that he hears my plea and calls me back. As the darkness takes me under, I pray one more time. This time, asking for God to grant me the strength, if Alex doesn’t accept my apology.
My phone wakes me the next morning, buzzing and humming itself right off the TV stand.
“Shit!” I exclaim, falling out of the bed to chase after it. Without even looking, I hit answer.
“Hello.” My voice gruff.
“Any luck, honey?”
“Kind of hard to find him, when I’m staring at the back of eyelids, Mom. What time is it?”
“Six o’clock. Why aren’t you up? I found Alex.”
How in the hell could she have found him that quickly? I had tried everything last night. Texting him, calling and leaving desperate voicemail after voicemail, because let’s be honest, I couldn’t stop after one. Alex has at least a half of a dozen of them, waiting on him, whenever he decides to turn on his phone again. I had even gone so far as to call his label, but they laughed me off the phone with a restraining order threat, if I called back again, when I said his kind of girlfriend was trying to find him. Guess he was right that his crazy fans didn’t understand boundaries. There is absolutely no way Mom found him, unless he’s right next to her right now. He wouldn’t, would he be?
“I swear to all that is holy, if he’s up there, and I’m down here, I’m not going to be very happy.”
“No, he’s not here. However, he’s got a gig tonight. I saw it on one of his fan pages that I follow on Facebook.” Maybe, I’m hearing things, but did my mom just tell me she not only uses Facebook, but also follows him. How am I just now figuring this out? “You still there, Lizzy?”
“Yeah. Facebook. Show. Got it.”
“I’ll send you the details,” I mutter a goodbye, before hanging up.
My phone vibrates, as her message comes in, and I look at it. The flyer is bright with the words ‘One Night Only’ printed boldly across the top of it. I zoom in on the address and screenshot it. A show. It’s the best shot I have at seeing him again. I have to take it, but I would have preferred something a little more private. Beggars can’t be choosers in my case. Not with so much at stake. I climb back into bed and try to sleep, as much as I can.
Waking up nearly six hours later, I find myself with nothing to do but wait, until the show tonight. After scouring Yelp, I decide to drive downtown and find a local place to eat. If I have to kill a couple of hours, I might as well do it seeing the town that I could be calling home a little more. See the sights, and maybe with any luck, I might spot Alex, before the show.
Riffling through my bag, I grab a pair of jeans, a t-shirt that says ‘farm rock star’ on it courtesy of my mother, and quickly dress. My hair is a different story. It takes about twenty minutes to finally get it not to look like I had stuck my finger in a bug zapper. Adding the pair of Ariats that I had ironically worn to prom with Alex, I deem myself fit for the world, and then head out to explore downtown.
I have to say that one perk of being in a city with country music at its core is that finding parking for my truck isn’t as hard as I thought it would be. The walk from the parking lot to the Broadway area of town isn’t too far. Shops line every corner selling a wide array of boots, moonshine, and other stereotypically Nashville merch. Between them, bars, and restaurants of all shapes and sizes, I spy the place I found online earlier and step inside. A heavenly waft of smoky, sweet BBQ envelops me. Finding a table near the glass front window, I place my order, and before long, the waitress comes back with it. The food is absolutely delicious. Not Mr. Pig delicious, but there is nothing that can compare to my local favorite.
I spend the rest of the afternoon wandering around town, looking in all the shops and visiting a few of the more historical buildings still left. It’s funny to see so many modern buildings in a city this old. The best part of my afternoon is sitting on a bench near the venue of Alex’s gig people watching.
A few more hours pass, until the line for his show finally starts to form outside the bar. My hope of seeing him, before the show, is shot dead, when the security guard at the front of the line doesn’t buy my story of being a friend of Alex’s. With the crazy fans’ artists have to deal with in this day and age, why would have believe me? I wait for hours in line, listening to the idle chatter of women talking about how cute Alex is, and even some of them mentioning the photo of us together that had popped up earlier in the week. Thirty minutes before the show, they finally let us in. I find a spot in the back of the room and settle onto a high-top bar stool, biding my time and practicing what I want to tell him tonight. Over and over again to commit to memory, before my nerves get the best of me.
The lights dim, and his band starts to play around, until Alex steps on stage, and the crowd goes wild. Women flock to the front of it, reaching up trying to touch him. He smiles back, but I notice, even being this far back, that the steps just out of their reach.
“How’s everybody doing, tonight?” His voice booms through the microphone. “Y’all ready to have a good time!” The crowd cheers back in response.
“I’ve got some new material I want to play for you tonight, but how about we start off with one of y’alls favorites. Who’s ready for a little “Honky Tonk Country Night?” The band begins to play one of Alex’s biggest hits, as he stalks the stage, playing his guitar. Owning it as I remembered. When he’s up there performing, no one can take their eyes off of him. He sings the chorus, inviting the crowd to sing along with him with a point of his mic, and they join in happily.
They play through a few more of his hits, before one of
the stagehands brings out a wooden stool, and the acoustic guitar that he had back at his parent’s place the night he played for me. “I want to tell y’all a story about this next song.” Alex leans down to grab the bottle of water near his mic stand and takes a big gulp, before putting it back. “It’s a story about the one that got away.”
The thud of my heart inside of my chest beats just a little bit faster. He’s talking about me.
A few people in the crowd shout out with hoots and hollers. “I’ve been working on this song for that girl. She recently came back into my life, but I screwed it up.” The women in the crowd awe. “I know. Kind of stupid, but I deserved it.” He adjusts the guitar strap on his shoulder and strums a few chords, while he continues to tell his story. “Anyway, I wrote her this song. I hope one day she’ll hear it and forgive me. Tell me what you think.”
I can’t move or speak, while he sings.
She was perfect.
The day that I meet her, I knew she was meant for me.
Brown hair. Blue eyes. A country life pretty that no one could compare to.
I wanted to tell you that night, before I left that I loved you, but I didn’t.
Hot, wet tears stream down my face, when he hits the chorus, and I lose it completely. The woman next to me stares at me, like I’m crazy.
Left you there and my heart with you.
A piece of me that will always be yours.
I’ll always regret my last night with you.
I just hope you know that I never meant to say goodbye
I got my second chance with you.
A mud-covered crazy kind of love.
One night of my dreams coming true.
Until I broke it.
Left you there and my heart with you.
A piece of me that will always be yours.
The other half of my soul.
Sweetest Obsessions - Anthology Page 270
