Country

by Danielle Steel

  —

  Amanda and Michael visited three houses on the same street in Buckhead that Saturday. Two of them were enormous, with extensive wings and grounds, and the last one had five bedrooms. All of them were serious family homes, and just looking at them with her made Michael nervous and confirmed everything he thought.

  “So when are you two getting married, or are you already?” the realtor running the open house at the last home asked them with an Alabama drawl.

  Amanda smiled at the question, and Michael felt sick as he wondered what she would answer. He didn’t say a word, which was often his way of dealing with questions he didn’t like. And he didn’t like that one. He had told her he wasn’t ready.

  “We’re just looking,” Amanda said blandly, and smiled conspiratorially at Michael. She was being coy, and as they drove away, she was excited. “Oh my God, do you believe how gorgeous that house is?” She acted like she was ready to move in, with or without him, or if she had to drag him there by the hair.

  “Are you insane?” he finally exploded. “Did you see the price? Do you know what I make? And I’m not putting all my dad’s insurance into that house, or asking my mom to help. We’d need four kids to fill that house.”

  “It’s a great investment,” she said calmly. Her mantra.

  “So is Buckingham Palace. I can’t afford it. You should marry Prince Harry. And we don’t need a house like that, or any house. We’re not getting married.”

  “Not now. But one day. Right?” She gazed at him directly as she asked the question, and suddenly he thought of what he had said to Sandy only a week before. That he couldn’t see himself married to her, or having children with her. Now or later. He had just never said it to her, and he’d only been sure about it for the past few months, when she’d started pressuring him about a house. At first he thought he wasn’t ready. But now he knew she was the wrong girl, which was very different. He had never been sure of that before. Now he was. He pulled the car over and put it in park, and looked at her long and hard. And he spoke clearly and firmly when he finally did.

  “No, Amanda. Not one day. Never. I can’t. We’d be miserable together. We don’t want the same things in life.”

  “Of course we do. You’re just scared to buy a house. Everyone is when they buy their first house.”

  “I don’t want to marry you,” he said simply. “Ever. It’s not right. You need someone more like you. I’m never going to be that person. You need a guy like your father.” He was all about money, ambition, and power. Michael wasn’t. He was more like his mother, oblivious to superficial values.

  Amanda sat staring at him for a long moment, and set her lips in a thin line. “Take me home.” He started to drive her back to her place, which she rarely went to, and then he felt like a monster when he saw she was crying. He pulled over again, and put his arms around her.

  “I shouldn’t have pushed you about the house. We can wait, Mike. I just wanted to get us started. I’m in no rush.” She didn’t want to lose him. He was a great catch, she had made her mind up about him three years before, and still felt the same way. She was convinced he had a great future ahead of him and would do well, especially with her behind him.

  “Yes, you are in a rush,” he said honestly. “And that’s okay for you, but it isn’t for me. I just realized recently that I don’t want to marry you. I don’t think it’s right for either of us. I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how.”

  “We don’t have to get married for a long time,” she negotiated with him, and he shook his head.

  “No,” he said firmly. “You need someone else. And so do I.” She looked panicked then as she heard what he said.

  “Is there someone else?” He could be honest with her, and he was glad he had gone no further with Sandy the week before, and had been truthful with her about Amanda.

  “No, there isn’t.” He didn’t add the words “not yet.” She didn’t need to hear them. And it was beside the point. All that mattered was that he knew he didn’t want a life with her. He wasn’t even sure he loved her. And he wasn’t sure if Amanda even cared. She wanted a lifestyle, and an investment, more than the man who went with it. His mother had been right all along.

  He drove her home then and stopped outside her building on Cheshire Bridge Road. She got out slowly and looked at him through the window. “Why don’t we think about this, Mike? You panicked. Let’s give it some time.” He already had. Three years. Long enough to know what he didn’t want, and with whom. He shook his head as he looked at her, not knowing what else to say.

  “I’ll drop your stuff off this week” was all he could think of. Amanda looked shocked as he drove away. She let herself into her building then, ran upstairs to her apartment, and threw herself onto the bed. But she had to call her father and tell him what had happened.

  “I always knew he was the wrong guy,” her father said calmly. “No guts. No ambition.” It was a harsh thing to say about Mike. He worked hard, had a good job, and was a nice boy. “Good riddance,” her father said roughly, and Amanda felt sad as she hung up. She loved him, and thought he loved her too. She always believed they wanted the same things, but they didn’t. And maybe her father was right, and Michael. They both said she needed a man like her father. And when she thought about it, she knew they were right. She wanted a guy who wanted one of those big houses in Buckhead, and would kill himself to get it for her. A man who wanted to stretch and grab the brass ring and win the prize. Amanda wanted all the prizes, but not necessarily the guy. It wasn’t about love for her. It was about power. And that wasn’t Michael.

  —

  Sandy never saw the message Mike had sent her from the bar until late Saturday, when she fished her phone out from between the couch cushions where Bobby Joe had thrown it the night before. She answered it just saying that she was thinking about him too, and hoped he’d had fun the night before. But he didn’t answer. When he saw her text, he was sitting in his apartment, thinking about Amanda and what had happened that day. He felt empty and alone every time he thought of Amanda. He wasn’t sure how or why it had unraveled so quickly, but a three-year relationship had ended. It was something to think about, and he needed time to mourn it. He didn’t want to just reach out to Sandy, or tell her what had happened, as though he could end one relationship and start another five minutes later. Hi…I’m free now…let’s go play. He owed Amanda more respect than that, so he didn’t respond to Sandy.

  He packed Amanda’s things in boxes—the clothes she’d left at his house, her books, her tennis and gym clothes, a sculpture they’d bought together. Three years of memorabilia that were at his place and not hers. It took him an hour to gather it all up, and another hour to pack it. Three years in two boxes. And he called his mother that night and told her. He sounded sad.

  “I’m sorry, baby,” she said to her son, and she meant it. Stephanie had never liked her, but he had, and that was enough. She was sorry for the disappointment and his aching heart. He sounded very unhappy and a little shocked.

  “I don’t know what happened. All of a sudden, I just had to tell her. I only figured it out a few weeks ago. She’s been pushing me to buy a house. I just didn’t want to do that, but she kept pushing. I nearly broke out in hives when we looked at that house.” Stephanie smiled at what he said.

  “One day you’ll find the right person.”

  Amanda called Michael that night and sounded as shell-shocked as he was. But she didn’t argue with him, or beg to get back together. In her heart of hearts, she knew he was right. She reminded him to put her skillets in with her other things. She had paid for them and wanted them back. And the new microwave she had just bought for his apartment. In the end, it came down to that. Frying pans and a microwave and a box of old stuff. She reduced it all to the merely practical. He wondered if she’d even miss him. He felt empty when he hung up. Three years of his life had just gone down the garbage disposal, and he’d flipped the switch. And he knew he should have done
it long before.

  He went for a run that night to try and clear his head. It helped a little. And he thought about Sandy when he got back. He wanted to call her, but he knew it was too soon. He needed time to put Amanda behind him and wipe the slate clean. And when he went to bed, he dreamed of Sandy. They were buying a big house, and Amanda was the real estate agent, and she kept pushing. In the dream, he shouted at her, and then he and Sandy ran away, laughing, with Amanda shouting after them. The dream seemed clear to him when he woke up. Amanda was the saleswoman, trying to sell him a house he didn’t want. And Sandy was the girl of his dreams.

  Chapter 18

  In the end, Michael waited a week, and then decided to call Sandy. She had sent him a couple of texts, which he hadn’t answered, and he felt guilty about it. It was a few days before the Fourth of July weekend. He had dropped off Amanda’s things and hadn’t heard from her. She had moved on, without sentiment or regrets. He was disappointed, but he wasn’t devastated or heartbroken, which told him he’d done the right thing. He’d been thinking about Sandy a lot. She hadn’t told him what had happened with Bobby Joe in her texts. And since she didn’t hear from Michael in response, she assumed he was still with his girlfriend. She sounded surprised to hear from him, and was downtown shopping with a friend. But she was as easygoing as ever.

  “Sorry I haven’t answered. I’ve been a little tied up here,” he said, feeling awkward at first.

  “That’s fine. I’ve been busy too.” She had been sad not to hear from him, but she respected him for not chasing her at the same time, when she knew he had a girlfriend. They’d kissed at the airport, and he had told her he needed to make some decisions. She assumed he had decided to stay with Amanda. “How are you?”

  “Fine.” The Braves had been on a winning streak, which everyone in Atlanta was excited about, hoping to get to the playoffs and World Series.

  “We’re playing a big concert on the Fourth of July. Five big bands. Chase is the lead act, so we’ve been rehearsing day and night.”

  “Sounds intense,” Michael said, thinking of the concert he’d been to when he’d first seen her. “How’s the rest of your life?”

  “The same. Well, almost. I broke up with Bobby Joe.” That was a major piece of news to him. “He acted like a real asshole. All the time, actually. But he got drunk one night while we were rehearsing, and he was such a jerk, it finally did it for me. Chase just hired a new opening act for the band. That’ll really fry his sorry ass,” she said, laughing, and Michael was smiling.

  “Yeah, I think so.” He hesitated for an instant and then decided to tell her. “I broke up with Amanda. No new opening band, though.” Sandy laughed.

  “What happened?”

  “Pretty much what we talked about. I knew I didn’t want to marry her, and she backed me into a corner about buying a house with her, and I had to tell her. It’s better this way.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you two broke up?” Sandy sounded surprised.

  “I thought I should wait a little while, out of respect for both of you. But I missed you too much, so I called you today.” He was smiling as he said it. They were both quiet for a minute. It changed things between them, and made things seem more serious than they had been when she went to Atlanta. They were both free now, and she was thinking about it and what it meant. So was he.

  She decided to be brave first. “Do you want to come to the Fourth of July concert here?” Her heart was pounding as she asked him and waited for his answer. “You can stay at Chase’s. He has a guest room.” She didn’t want him to think that she was inviting him straight into her bed. She wasn’t. She had taken Chase’s advice to heart.

  He was thinking about it, but his answer came quickly. He didn’t want her to change her mind.

  “I’d love it. Are you sure Chase wouldn’t mind?”

  “No, he’ll be fine.” She sounded happy and excited, and so did he. He was going to come down two days before and spend the weekend with them. She told him that Nashville went all out for the Fourth with barbecues, picnics, and a parade, and their concert. There was another one the day before at Opryland. “Come ready to party,” she told him, and he laughed. She was excited when she hung up, but tried to be calm about it, and she told Chase about it the day before Michael arrived.

  “Can I use your guest room this weekend?” she asked casually when she saw him at rehearsal, and he looked surprised.

  “Sure. Who’s coming? Anyone I know?” He couldn’t imagine who she wanted there. Once in a while she had a girlfriend come to visit who’d moved away, but they always stayed in the cottage with her. Why not this one?

  “Michael Adams.” She tried to sound nonchalant about it, and his eyes grew wide.

  “Michael Adams, as in Stevie’s son?” She nodded, and smiled. “Is he bringing his girlfriend?” he teased her, and she shook her head.

  “They broke up.” He smiled at that with a wicked look.

  “My, my…isn’t that interesting…and you and Bobby Joe broke up too…happy to have him,” he said, and winked at her, and they both went back to work with the band.

  He told Stephanie that night.

  “I’m having a guest this weekend,” he said benignly when he talked to her after rehearsal. He was tired, but excited about the concert on the Fourth. There was nothing he liked better than playing. He always said he was born to sing and play his guitar.

  “Anyone special?” Stephanie asked, wondering if it was some big country music star. He knew them all, and there were a number of them playing at the concert on the Fourth.

  “I think so. I think you will too. A young man by the name of Michael Adams. He’s coming from Atlanta.” It took a moment to sink in, and then she screamed.

  “My Michael? How did that happen?” She had spoken to Michael two days before, and he’d said nothing about it. She was suddenly glad she hadn’t decided to go to Nashville too. It would have been harder to explain to Michael about “Laura” a second time.

  “Sandy invited him,” Chase filled her in. “He’s staying in my guest room, all very proper.” She knew Michael and Amanda had broken up because he had called her about it, but she hadn’t heard from him since. And he hadn’t mentioned Sandy. But she was pleased.

  “Well, I’ll be damned.” Stephanie sat on her bed and grinned. “That is very good news indeed. I wonder if he’ll tell me.” She suspected he would eventually, but not just yet.

  “Well, act surprised if he does. I don’t want him to think I’m spying on him.”

  “You have to tell me all about it,” Stephanie said, sounding excited.

  “Of course. I just wish you were coming too.” He was wistful as he said it.

  “So do I,” she said, remembering his kisses. She was planning on going to a barbecue at Brad and Alyson’s in Ross over the Fourth. Chase had invited her to Nashville, but she wasn’t ready to go back. She still felt she had to make some decisions about her life first.

  “Well, let’s see what happens now, with these two. Life is funny, isn’t it?” She thought about it as he said it. It certainly was. “It’s all about fate and destiny, and opening the right door at the right time, and having the guts to walk through it. It’s amazing how everything changes in the blink of an eye.” One minute he was all tied up with Amanda, on a straight path toward a marriage Stephanie had thought would make him miserable. And now he was headed in a totally other direction, with a country music singer who sang like an angel. It was like Stephanie taking the road to Las Vegas instead of San Francisco, and then going to Nashville with him. All you had to do was be brave enough to do it. She had been, and now her son was too. She was thrilled.

  Chapter 19

  The Fourth of July party at Brad and Alyson’s house in Ross was the epitome of everything Stephanie had been afraid her life would be like as a widow in San Francisco, with all the people they had known, in the familiar world where she now felt like a misfit. And everything people said that night just made her f
eel worse. They all told her how “sorry” they were for “her loss,” like a mantra they had to say the moment they saw her. Then they asked how she was “doing,” as though she were in treatment for a terminal disease, which it was in a way. Widowhood was the end of life as she knew it, but it was inconceivable to them that there was any form of life beyond it. Their pity for her radiated from their eyes like gentle daggers that pierced her heart. She had never missed Bill more than that night, and she didn’t even know why. He would have hated the evening, complained about going, made her leave early, and told her how stupid Fourth of July parties were and that they shouldn’t have gone. She always wanted to stay at parties longer than he did, and he always made her leave early because he had a meeting the next day, or an early golf date on a holiday or Sunday.

  The party was held in Brad and Alyson’s beautifully manicured garden at their house in Ross. All of their neighbors were there, most of whom Stephanie knew, and even those she didn’t were sorry for her when mutual friends told them about Bill’s death on the ski slopes nearly five months before. She felt as though she should have worn a black veil or widow’s weeds to the party, but she didn’t need to. They treated her that way anyway. She was “Poor Stephanie” in their eyes, and nothing was going to change that. And while feeling sorry for her, the wives were slightly suspicious of her, as though she were dangerous now, and the husbands were much too friendly and a little too cozy, which proved their wives right. There was no way to be herself or a normal person in their midst. Alyson was nervous throughout, worried that the caterer wasn’t doing things right, and she went inside several times to check on the kids. Brad was too jovial and acted like he’d had a lot to drink. The waiters were passing trays of margaritas, and no matter how many Stephanie had, she felt painfully sober throughout the evening, even if slightly sick.

  And Brad had kept an arm around her for a little too long as he asked how she was doing, and he said they didn’t see enough of her now. He asked what she’d been up to but didn’t listen to what she told him, and she had the feeling that if she’d read the Yellow Pages to him as an answer, he would have smiled and listened in the same sympathetic way. He told her she looked great, but she didn’t feel it. Jean and Fred were there too. Jean was flirting with several men after too many margaritas, and Fred fell asleep in a chair before the buffet dinner. Stephanie felt disconnected from everyone there although she had known them for twenty years.