Heartland

by Davis Bunn

  Which was why the only reply JayJay could manage was, “Whoa.”

  They came out of the hotel parking lot and started away from town. Sooner or later JayJay was going to have to take that route in the opposite direction, see how his supposed memories meshed with the place he had always thought of as Simmons Gulch. But right then he had just about all he could handle, walking alongside the prettiest gal in six states. Nice enough looking to slow traffic on the road. Nice enough to have him wishing his arm was about nine feet long, so she still could hang on to it like she was doing, and he could sneak back a couple of paces and get a load of this woman’s walk. Maybe give off a holler or two for good measure. Yes sir.

  The place they were headed for was called Goody’s. Their choice was the result of a lengthy negotiation between Kelly and the limo driver, then continued with the lady behind the hotel counter. Done all serious, like Kelly’d been planning to invade a medium-size country instead of find a place that served up something hot. But there were three restaurants in town that had dance floors and the sort of clientele who knew what to do with a night off. What clinched it for Goody’s was when the check-in lady related how the name had previously been Good Time Bar and Grill. Then a twister had taken off everything but the first word, and the owner had changed it to what folks already called it, which was Goody’s. Then two weeks back he had lost one o, the stem off the d, and the last s to shotgun blasts from a couple of clients. The check-in lady had related all this with the tired humor of having been there herself, and finished with, “I guess them good-time boys didn’t like the band.”

  Kelly had slapped her hand down on the counter and declared, “This is what I was after all along. A place that serves up a story with their rice and beans.”

  The sun was nothing more than a golden afterthought, but the sidewalk gave off enough heat to bake a casserole. They took it slow, enjoying the stroll. She saw him grinning at nothing and asked, “What’s on your mind there, Slim?”

  “You’re looking at a man happy just to push the world to one side.”

  She gripped his hand tighter. “That’s why God invented the two-step. Didn’t you read that in Sunday school?”

  They knew they had arrived because the lot was packed solid with pickups and dusty high-wheelers. A heavily damaged sign flickered and buzzed on top of the roof. The sign’s only working lights spelled out “Gooy.” The crowd snaked out the front door and down the six steps to the lot and spread over hoods of close-parked cars. Every now and then a loudspeaker called out a name. Folks leaving the restaurant all had to stop and shake hands and chat with friends. They were a mixed bunch, city folks and country, Anglo and Hispanic, a lot of three- and four-generation families.

  A young man leaning against the stair-post spotted them crossing the lot and nudged his neighbor. By the time they arrived at the stairs, every eye was upon them.

  Kelly took it in polite stride. “Evening, all. Can somebody tell us what’s the right way to get our names down for a table?”

  A woman by the door said, “Y’all just head on inside.”

  “We don’t aim to go breaking in line,” JayJay said.

  “I don’t imagine they’re gonna give you much chance to argue,” the woman said.

  Word had already passed inside to the three ladies behind the check-in stand, an older woman and two younger versions. All shared the same wide-eyed expression. The older woman started off all formal, “Welcome to Goody’s. Can I help you?”

  “It’s really you, isn’t it,” the youngest said. “Him.”

  Her sister said, “His name is JayJay, silly.”

  “I know that. You’re him, aren’t you?”

  The older sister was far enough into her teenage years to offer a bit of lip. “I thought you’d gotten fat.”

  That turned their mother around. “Now you just hush up, unless you want to spell Ernesto at the dishwasher for about sixteen years.” She turned back to her clients. “Welcome to Goody’s.”

  “You already told them that, Momma.” The teenager wasn’t quite done yet. “Daddy says you been wearing a girdle.”

  “That was the other guy.” Kelly patted JayJay’s arm. “This is the new-and-improved version.”

  The older woman snipped, “Well, I guess the only way I’m going to make my daughter behave is if I show you to a table.”

  JayJay protested, “Ma’am, you got people who been waiting here a spell.”

  “There is no way on earth I’m going to make JayJay Parsons stand in my foyer putting up with comments from Little Miss Big Mouth here.” She picked up a pair of menus and marched away. “Do you have children?”

  “No ma’am. That’s one pleasure I’ve missed so far.”

  “Well, I’ve got one you can have cheap.” She was miffed enough to stop being impressed by who she was serving. “I’ve got a table clear by the dance floor. But once the band starts up you won’t be able to hear yourself think.”

  Kelly gave him one of those women-only looks. “Oh, we didn’t come here to think, did we.”

  The smiles that followed them across the restaurant made the staring easy to bear. As the woman seated them, Kelly said, “That’s an interesting sign you’ve got on top of the restaurant.”

  The woman gave Kelly a seen-it-all look and replied, “That was last week’s story. Hang around here long enough, we’ll probably serve you up a tale all your very own.”

  They hadn’t settled in before a slender man came hustling out of the kitchen, drying his hands on an apron. “Well, I’ll be. I guess my wife ain’t gone loco after all.” He offered JayJay his hand. “Norman Goode. A couple of your roadies showed up this afternoon. I been hoping they might find somebody able to resurrect the only reason I don’t shoot my TV.”

  “The name’s John Junior, sir. This here’s Kelly Channing.”

  “’Preciate you brightening up our place, Miss Channing.” He wore a grin that was too big for his narrow face as he said to JayJay, “My daughter didn’t really ask if you were wearing a girdle.”

  “To tell the truth, they made us feel so welcome I didn’t hardly notice.”

  He ran a hand over his remaining dark hair and said to Kelly, “It’s probably a good thing they don’t offer trade-ins on teenagers.”

  Kelly asked, “What should we eat?”

  “The artichokes are in season.”

  “That’s all I need to know.”

  “I could start you off with some of my wife’s cream of artichoke soup, do you up a big plate, grill you some hearts, serve them with strips of corn-fed beef, bowl of some hot sauce on the side, little Parmesan, how does that sound?”

  “Better add a few batter-fried,” Kelly said. “I been eating that no-fat LA nonsense for too long.”

  He re-aimed his smile. “Where you from, darling?”

  “Sioux Falls.”

  “Sounds like my kind of country, if you been raised not to run screaming from a little hot grease.” He backed away. “We’ll ask some friends to make sure any tourists who slip by my daughters don’t bother you none. You folks have yourselves a time.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Goode, we aim to.” JayJay waited until the table was theirs again to say, “I declare, you could charm gold from Fort Knox.”

  She looked at him like she was measuring out some words, but they remained unspoken. Instead, she said, “You recall our little wager?”

  “It’s not my nature to forget what a lovely lady’s said to me.”

  “So tell. How did you wind up here?”

  He leaned back and crossed his arms. Gave her determined. He was having too good a time to disturb this night. “You go right ahead.”

  “Loser buys, right?”

  “That was the deal.”

  “I’m only asking because there’s no way you’re going to top this.” She did something with her hair, playing it like a talisman. “My best friend back home was a local beauty queen.”

  “Oh, and you’re not?”

  �
�Hush up, Slim. This is my tale. My friend did some modeling, got as far as Chicago. Decided to give Hollywood a run. She came out, did the circuit. Her phone calls were all about how tough it was to break in, find an agent, the casting calls, the dead-end jobs, the struggle to get noticed in a town full of other beauty queens. A while passed, long enough for everybody to accept that our friend had permanently immigrated to la-la land. One day I got a call from her mother.”

  Kelly was interrupted by their soup being served by the owner himself. “You folks tell me if this isn’t the finest you’ve ever tasted.”

  When they had tasted and complimented, he backed away with, “Enjoy.”

  JayJay hesitated then. Kelly asked, “What is it?”

  “You mind if we bless this food?”

  “No, JayJay. Why should I mind?”

  “On account of about six thousand people watching every move we make.”

  “So what could be better? Here, take my hand. Now say the words for us.”

  He worked the words around the confusion that was there waiting for him when he shut his eyes. At the “amen” he lifted his gaze to find her waiting with, “That was nice.”

  “I don’t hardly know what I just said.”

  “Good prayers are sometimes like that.”

  “You sure are something. Full of spark and full of faith. I don’t recollect ever coming across somebody like you before.”

  “Is that a good thing?”

  “You know it is.”

  “My daddy is a rock-solid country Baptist preacher man. My momma is an Alabama firecracker. Life wasn’t what you’d call calm around our house, but it sure was interesting.”

  The soup bowls were taken away by a younger daughter who moved about in absolute silence. JayJay said, “Thank you, honey.”

  “You’re welcome.” She bit her lip. “Momma told me I wasn’t to say anything and bother you folks.”

  “Polite conversation isn’t a bother,” Kelly assured her. “It’s a pleasure.”

  “’Specially coming from somebody nice as you,” JayJay agreed. “What’s your name?”

  “Heather.”

  “That’s as lovely a name as ever I’ve heard.”

  She flushed with pleasure. “I don’t care what my sister says. You’re the only show Daddy ever stops long enough to watch all the way through.”

  When they were alone again, Kelly said, “I don’t want to scare you, Slim. But I can tell you one thing for certain. You’re sitting in the company of friends so good you don’t even need to remember their names.”

  The plates arrived then, a steaming feast of artichoke hearts prepared four different ways and local beef and a hot sauce strong enough to remove one layer of skin from the roof of JayJay’s mouth. Kelly held up well under the strain. JayJay ate until another bite would have been genuinely painful.

  JayJay waited until they’d declined dessert and been served coffee to say, “You were talking about your friend’s momma calling.”

  Kelly made a process of folding her napkin and setting it aside. “She asked if I’d heard from her daughter. I said, not in a while. But Julie’s calls had trailed off so gradually I didn’t pay much notice until her mother phoned. Then I realized it was longer than a while. More like five months. The worry in her mother’s voice got me to thinking. I called Julie and said I was coming down. She didn’t want me to, which only made me more determined.

  “My friend was living in this dump off Sunset with four other girls. All of them worked day jobs and ran to casting calls and dreamed of that one big chance. All were beautiful girls from small-town America. Five totally different stories, but all grown into the same hard Hollywood shell. You know what I mean. They’d learned the walk and the hair and they shopped the sales for the hot styles. They studied the moves and they’d all learned how to shine. ”

  She was quiet for a while, until JayJay said, “You don’t have to tell me any more. I think I know already.”

  But she went on, “Julie tried to put this smiley face on it. How it was her chance to get into the big time. How everybody did it, guys and girls alike. But she knew and I knew. She was just another pretty face who’d gotten sucked into this big producer’s stable of wannabes. She was going to these parties and she wasn’t coming home. And there wasn’t a thing I could do but hang around and let her know I wasn’t buying any part of the package. Just reminding her there was another world out there, no matter what she put down her throat or up her nose to help her forget. And I prayed. Hard as I’ve ever prayed in my whole life. Just looking for a way to get my friend out of there.

  “I’d been there about a week when she went to a casting call. I went along because I didn’t know what else to do. I was supposed to be heading home the next day. You know how those things run, right?”

  “No,” JayJay replied. “I don’t.”

  “There must’ve been three hundred lovely ladies. So many they all ran together in one huge river of silk and perfume and lipstick and hair spray. It was the most depressing thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life. A ghetto of desperate beauty. All of them young, all of them so hungry they’d do anything for their big chance. They clutched their page of lines. They practiced. They ignored everybody else. They studied themselves in the mirror and worried over every hair, every tiny fault only they could see.

  “Then this director comes walking by. He’s young, he’s a little muffin job, you know what I mean?”

  “I can imagine.”

  “Pudgy, wearing a stained T-shirt and raggedy jeans, just a nobody who happens to be making a movie. And those ladies, I mean, they just went on.” She tried for a smile and failed. “That director fellow stopped dead in his tracks, looked at me, and said, ‘You’re the one.’

  “My friend just plain freaked. She threw me out of the apartment. Julie gave up on Hollywood and flew home the next day. I called my daddy and told him what had happened. He said he’d call her folks and meet her at the airport and start building bridges. I asked him what he thought I should do. He asked me if I wanted to give this movie thing a try. I said I wasn’t sure. I’d been working as an ER nurse in Sioux Falls, I could get my job back in a heartbeat. And by then I’d discovered this film deal, when it’s working, it’s fun. So he gave me three pieces of advice. Never be ashamed of who you are. Leave the place richer for your having been there. And don’t ever call the place home.”

  JayJay found himself rocked back in his seat by what he heard. “Your daddy sounds like a very wise man.”

  “Yeah, I miss him and Momma almost as much as I do my former best friend.”

  JayJay let her stare out over the empty dance floor for a time. The band started gearing up for their first set. Finally he leaned forward and said loud enough to be heard over the tuning guitars, “I bet soon as that lady comes to her senses, she’s gonna realize just what a great thing you’ve done for her.”

  Kelly gave him a look of pure yearning. “You really think so?”

  He reached across the table and snagged her hand. “Miss Channing, you’re as fine a lady as I’ve ever met.”

  She blinked away the sheen of sorrow. “Is it just me, or does life always give you the pie with a hole cut out of the heart?”

  “I don’t know as I’ve seen enough of life to answer that.”

  “Okay. So it’s your turn.” When he tried to draw away she tightened her grip on his hand. “Don’t you even think about backing out on me.”

  “Kelly, I’ll tell you my sorry tale. I promise. But the thing is just so twisted it’d wreck the night for me. And I’m having too fine a time just being here with you to let that happen.”

  She inspected him. “You’ll tell me?”

  “If you ask me again. But I’m afraid—”

  “I won’t run, Slim.”

  “Don’t say that ’til you’ve heard me out.”

  She took his arm in a two-handed grip. And repeated the words. “I won’t run.”

  The band played modern cou
ntry with a solid bond to Southern rock. They sported both a mandolin and a hard-fisted guitar. They followed Roy Acuff with the Allman Brothers. The dance floor filled with people doing everything from the cowboy two-step to the modern wrangle. Closest to their table, a little towheaded boy in pink suspenders swung the hands of a lovely Latina with wildflowers in her dark hair. Kelly slid her chair around and used her grip on JayJay’s arm to draw it around her shoulders. Easy and natural, like she’d been doing it for years. They sat and listened and returned the smiles of those who glanced their way. Just another couple out for a night on the town.

  When the band took a break, she said, “One question.”

  “Say what?”

  “I get to ask you a question, you answer, and you don’t ask the same thing back.”

  He was too comfortable feeling her closeness to argue. “I suppose.”

  “How is it that a handsome galoot like you isn’t staked out and branded?”

  “I loved the wrong woman, is the simple answer.”

  “What was her name?”

  He leaned a little closer, took a deep breath of her perfume and the clean scent of her hair. “Tell the truth, I don’t rightly recall.”

  She turned without drawing away, which brought her face so close he felt her breath on his cheek when she said, “You big fibber, you.”

  “She ran off with a rodeo rider.”

  “Sounds like a woman seriously lacking in the smarts department.”

  “Said she wanted somebody who hankered after a life beyond the next valley.”

  Kelly’s reply was cut off by the owner’s teenage daughter approaching their table. She wore a sullen expression and carried a tone to match. “My momma says I’ve got to come apologize for what I said.”

  Kelly put some space between them and motioned for JayJay to stand up. “Sit yourself down here, darling. What’s your name?”

  “Felicity.”

  “So you did what your momma asked. Now tell me the boy’s name.”

  “What boy?”

  “The one your momma would like to stake out over an anthill.”

  She looked square at Kelly. “Roy.”