ENN: Nico is here, but declined to be interviewed. So I’m just going to say this because I know I’ll get a ton of messages about it: Yes, he is very sharply dressed.
Grady Dawson: [Laughs] Always. Even his pajamas are designer.
ENN: You two met when he styled you for a photoshoot—the infamous surprise haircut photoshoot—has it been difficult for him to go from being behind the cameras, so to speak, to now being pictured on the cover of gossip magazines?
Grady Dawson: It has. I think even more so for him because he’s seen this all go down from the sidelines, so he understands it intimately. It’s why we try to draw a line with our personal lives, but more and more that line doesn’t exist. So how do I protect my relationship without alienating my fans or being dishonest? I don’t know. I haven’t figured that out. Maybe I can’t.
ENN: Let’s set aside your personal life then, and the contract disputes, what can fans expect music-wise? Where would you like to go from here?
Grady Dawson: I can promise that I’m not going to stop making music. You may have to find me on a street corner with an open guitar case at my feet [laughs] but I’ll be there, singing my heart out like always. And I do actually want to say, on a personal note, that it means so much to me, the support and the belief my fans have given me, and I promise that I’ll always believe in them, too. I won’t let them down.
30
Grady slides slowly into consciousness, aware only of fingers winding through tendrils of his hair, a body warm and firm beneath his cheek, the smell of sweet cedar and sharp citrus and spicy cloves—Nico’s cologne, he realizes, breathing deeply, contented, burying his face in the warm skin of Nico’s neck. They so rarely get to wake up together like this, curled together in the sleepy, safe harbor of their bed.
“Morning, gorgeous,” Nico’s even, pleasant voice says from above him, low and hushed as if he’s sharing a secret. It’s then that Grady remembers last night, what he heard, what Nico doesn’t know that he heard. Grady sits up and rubs the sleep from his eyes. Nico is fully dressed except for his bare feet, and not just dressed but done up as though they’re hitting a red-carpet event, in a baby blue seersucker suit with a pale yellow shirt, pink bowtie, and perfectly folded pocket square. Grady has so many pressing questions, but all he manages is “What—” before Nico stands and says, “I thought we’d take Mom and Dad to a nice brunch before they head back to Sacramento. If that’s okay with you.”
That’s right, they’re leaving tonight on a red-eye. The last thing Grady wants is to ruin their last day here after they so kindly came all this way for him. The cancelled wedding discussion can be put on hold, so Grady ignores the nauseous pit in his stomach and says, “Yeah, that sounds good. But I don’t want everyone to be bothered when we’re out.”
Nico tugs his coat flat and his tie tighter, then reaches up to check his hair. “Don’t worry. I know this out-of-the-way place that should be perfect.”
Grady showers and dresses and locks his heartbreak up tight; it’s not the first time he’s had to, so it’s easy enough to emerge from their room with a smile on his face. In the living room, Nico and his parents are standing close together with their heads bent, intently discussing whatever Nico is showing them on his phone. They all look up and greet him in an unsettling, happy unison, “Good morning!”
“Well, look at you two,” Grady says. Ken and Amy are just as dressed up as Nico, fancier than Grady’s ever seen them. Ken is wearing a pale linen suit with his hair parted neatly, and Amy is in a light green gown and wearing makeup and has a blue origami-folded paper flower corsage on her wrist. Grady declares her the prettiest thing he’s ever seen, and she giggles and swats at him. “Shall we?” he says, and offers Amy his arm. It’s pleasant this morning; a tease of autumn catches on the breeze.
Parked in the driveway is a limo. Grady turns in confused silence to Nico, who shrugs as if taking a limo to brunch with his parents is a normal thing that he’s completely unconcerned with—so much for worrying about money. “Didn’t want to cram into my Miata or your truck, and the Belvedere doesn’t have seat belts in the back.”
A thirty-minute drive later, it seems as if Nico really meant it when he said “out-of-the-way.” They go west off the highway, past the city limits toward Clay’s house, through the blue-collar river-delta country towns, and then even farther, out where the restaurants are down-home Southern kitchens and not fancy brunch destinations. It’s strange, and the way Nico is propped rigid and fretful on the edge of his seat is stranger, but Grady isn’t in the mood to talk or suss things out, so he doesn’t ask, just watches the road, just takes each moment as it comes. Then, just past a little downtown block and down the street from the car impound lot, the limousine stops.
Grady watches, completely stumped, as the driver opens the door and Amy and Ken get out. Nico moves to the seat across from Grady and puts his hands on Grady’s knees. The limo door closes. “I have to come clean before we go in.” Grady’s heart thuds and skitters in his chest. He nods, because he can’t speak. He braces himself, because he knows what’s coming. This is it, then. “There is no brunch. And… I sort of bought this place.”
“What?” Grady looks out of the window on the other side of the limo. It’s that abandoned music store, now with the kudzu pulled off and the For Sale sign taken down. “I don’t— I don’t understand. What’s going on?”
Nico squeezes Grady’s knees, then wipes his own palms on his pants, leaving little damp spots on the crisp seersucker fabric. “Come inside, and I’ll explain everything.”
At the glass front door, Nico proudly brandishes a key, unlocks the door and opens it to a dim, wide-open empty room. He flips on the overhead florescent lights. Whatever he’s doing here is mid-construction: the moldy carpet is only partly ripped up, the walls are gutted with gaping holes to get at the wiring and plumbing behind them, and the bathroom is in the middle of a total overhaul. There’s framing up to separate the main sales floor from the back, splitting the large space in half, two-by-fours and plywood are piled in the front corner.
“I planned on being farther along in the process before I showed this to you,” Nico says, “but you were getting suspicious, and it was only a matter of time before you figured it out. That guy you saw at my office wasn’t maintenance looking at the pipes; he was a real estate agent. I’ve been going back and forth with him since we came here the first time.”
That solves one mystery. “Why not just tell me, though?”
Nico pushes a hand though his perfectly swooped hair, lifts and drops his shoulders, then moves to the center of the room. “When you brought that old junk car home, I just— felt like a wet blanket about it, after. And I decided that I can be impulsive, too—” He places his thumb on his bottom lip and glances away. “If you can call weeks of scheming impulsive. I don’t know. You do so much for other people, and you’ve put up with a lot of crap lately. I wanted to do something for you.”
“You do plenty for me.” Wedding or no wedding, that will always be true. And he gets it, he understands why Nico would want to back out; it’s a lot to put up with.
“I wish I could make you believe that I’m not just grudgingly putting up with your life and everything that comes with it,” Nico says. He frowns, then shakes his head. “Actually, I will in a bit. But first…” He comes back to take Grady’s hand and leads him around the building. “So the idea was for you to have your own studio space. I don’t know what will happen with the label, but I do know that you need a better space to work and record, and it’s pretty much just two-by-fours right now, but this—” He sweeps his arm to indicate the area framed off in the back, “Will soon be your state-of-the-art private recording studio. I’ve been working with the guy who owns all the studios that Clem has been borrowing. I don’t know if they’re a thing or he’s just someone else she’s added to her dynasty. Either way he’s been really helpful.”
“Nico, I don’t know what to say.”
“That’s okay; I’m not done.” He tugs Grady back to the front, on a roll now, the place he thrives most: in charge. “Right here, this will be a stage. For, whatever. Just for fun or maybe open mic nights. I was thinking about what you said, the kids around here needing music. And I promise it won’t smell like this forever.” He wrinkles his nose. “I hope. Also I’m really seeing orange and yellow paint, hear me out: I know it’s a little—”
Grady grabs his face and kisses him, hard. It effectively shuts him up, and Grady couldn’t help it anyway. “Thank you. This is… You are… really incredible.”
Nico grips Grady’s wrists; his jaw is still cupped in Grady’s palms. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Grady kisses him again, then laughs. “Next time you don’t have to be so secretive about it. Lordy. I mean for a second I thought you and Chet…” Grady wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.
“What? No. Grady, what kind of extremely low standards do you think I have? You saw his suit, right?” Nico clicks his tongue in disgust. “Really.”
“Just for a second!” Grady defends. “I know you wouldn’t cheat on me, but you were skulking around like—” He remembers the phone call that had nothing to with buying this place, and his heart squeezes in his chest. “I heard you on the phone, cancelling the wedding venue.” Nico drops his hands, steps back and away from Grady, and scrubs both hands through his hair.
“Oh. Well. About that.”
31
This time Nico drags Grady to the very back to a storage room that’s empty and narrow and dark, made of concrete and bare metal shelves with an industrial steel door. Nico keeps hold of his hand and with the other thumbs out a message on his phone; his face glows, drawn and intense, in the blue light. There’s a blinding flash of sunlight, then the door slams closed with an echoing, scraping thud. Grady blinks to readjust his eyes to the dark; Spencer appears before him holding a two garment bags and two pairs of shining leather dress shoes.
“All set,” Spencer says; he sounds out of breath.
“Excellent,” Nico tells him. Then he says to Grady, “Come see.”
Grady squints as Nico pushes the door open just a crack, and, as everything comes into focus, Grady knows for certain that this will be one of those moments that he will find imprinted on his memory forever, the kind that he’ll close his eyes and relive over and over again.
The back parking lot is covered with a white tent covering a wonderland of natural wooden benches and twining tree branches. Green and white flowers hang from woven baskets strung along the edges; origami cranes and paper lanterns dangle from the branches. An aisle in the center is covered with green leaves that lead to an altar arched by green vines. It’s the wedding venue they picked out and Nico cancelled, somehow picked up and placed in what was a cracked dirt parking lot.
“This is… What did you… How…” Grady splutters.
“I couldn’t have pulled it off without Spencer. He’s a miracle worker,” Nico says.
“Bet you never thought you’d say that,” Spencer says, not without some bite.
Nico snorts derisively. “Right?”
Grady shakes his head, stares at the tent and the magic inside, tries to make sense of it while his head spins and Spencer and Nico snark at each other like old friends. “But I don’t—Today? You want to get married, here. Now.”
Nico gives Spencer a silent signal, takes the garment bags and shoes and lets the door bang closed. “I know, I did it again, the steamrolling thing. I can’t seem to help it. Are you angry?”
Grady blinks at him several times in the dark. “Angry?” He finally manages.
“Yeah, I—Listen. Everyone is at a bar down the street, and except for my parents and Spencer and Lucas, because he wouldn’t fly out here unless I told him why, because he lives to make my life difficult like that—” He stops to rolls his eyes and sigh. “Other than that, no one knows they’re here for a wedding. As far as they know, this a ribbon-cutting celebration for the new studio, and they’re all waiting at the bar none the wiser.” He pulls his spine straight and his jaw sets defiantly; that steely cool resolve is in full force. “You can say no.”
All Grady can do is laugh. It’s as if he’s on a rollercoaster: everything is swooping and swaying; endorphins are buzzing; he’s trying to catch his breath from the rise high to the top, the drop back down and then up, up again. When he gets his feet under him, he says to Nico’s nervous face, “Are you ever gonna stop shocking the hell out of me?”
Nico breaks out into a wide toothy grin, his eyes crinkle, and he beams. “I certainly hope not.” Grady steps forward to kiss him again, propelled by need and hunger. Nico stops him with a hand on the center of his chest. “Hold that thought. We need to get everyone here and get married. But first, we need to change.”
Grady isn’t too sad about waiting for that. “Hold on, aren’t you already dressed up?”
Nico scoffs, “This is obviously my pre-wedding outfit. As if I would get married in seersucker.” Grady is so glad he doesn’t have to wait five more weeks to marry this man. Nico leaves to change in the gutted bathroom and pulls the string for an overhead lightbulb as he goes. Grady puts the garment bag and shoes on a less dusty section of a shelf and starts to undress. He’s in only an undershirt, underwear, and black dress socks when there’s a quick knock, followed by Gwen bouncing in and launching herself at him.
“I’m not decent!” Grady protests, laughing and scooping her up in a hug.
Gwen gives him a once-over. “I’ve seen way more than that. I mean your jogging shorts alone…” She bugs her eyes out; then Flora comes in and casts a sidelong glance at Gwen and does not look at Grady. She blindly holds out a granola bar that Grady gratefully scarfs down. He thought he was going to brunch; he’s starving. “We’ve been informed that our groomsmaid services are required early.”
“Looks like it.” Grady pulls on the suit pants, while Gwen shakes out his button-down shirt. “Did you really not know?” he asks.
Flora smiles and shakes her head, and Gwen says, as she helps him put the shirt on, “I had an inkling that something was going on. He’s been extra-stressed at work, coming in early and staying late. I’ve just been throwing kale salads and coffee at him and staying out of his way.”
Grady doesn’t know how Nico has managed it: working and arranging to buy this place and fix it up and planning a last-minute surprise wedding. On top of all of Grady’s legal troubles and family drama, it doesn’t seem fair; it seems so selfish of Grady to want more of Nico’s time when he had so little of it to give.
Gwen helps Grady into his jacket, brushes down the sleeves and shoulders, and makes a small displeased noise. “Hey, Flor. In the trunk could you grab—”
“Your case with the steamer, yeah.” Flora finishes for her, smiling sweetly at them before hustling to the parking lot.
“Got some wrinkles; can’t have that. Your soon-to-be husband would shit a brick,” Gwen says with an impish grin. Then Clementine appears, gliding into the storeroom and gushing, “You’re getting married!” She presses two quick pecks to both of his cheeks. Flora comes back with the case, and the room is now very cramped with people and excited bustling about and chatter as he finishes getting ready.
“Wait.” Grady has asked Flora, Clementine, and Gwen to be his best women, and he didn’t even think about—“Who’s with Nico?”
“I passed his brother on my way back in,” Flora says, and, for a heart-stopping moment, Grady realizes that Lucas and Nico are alone in a very high-stress situation. Then Clementine adds, “A whole bunch of his family is here. Or, I’m assuming they’re his family…”
“Yeah it is, some aunts and uncles and cousins from California,” Gwen says. “Two of his cousins are with him and Lucas now.” Gwen pauses and rocks up to her toes. “I’m realizing now that I should have suspected this
was happening when he claimed his extended family came all the way out here for a new business venture.” She shakes her head, then starts steaming his suit.
“And when he called us this morning and told us all to wear something light blue and ‘summery semiformal,’” Clem says, complete with air quotes.
“Do we really find Nico telling us all what to wear that suspect, though?” Flora has a point everyone does have to agree with.
“I can’t believe he went to all this trouble,” Grady muses, holding his arms out so Gwen can steam him. “For me.”
Gwen clicks off the steamer. “It’s because he loves you, numbnuts. Now please tell me he remembered the cufflinks.”
“He really does love you a lot,” Flora says, in her soft, kind voice.
“God bless him,” Clem adds with a wink.
Every moment after that is like a dream, one Grady has had so many times, wanting so badly to find that person who would look at him and want to keep him, and when he walks in from a side aisle he’s afraid a too-strong intake of breath will send the dream swirling away like mist. A wedding photographer inconspicuously moves around to snap pictures. The music swells: Clementine’s protégé musicians Ellis and Joaquin on acoustic guitar. Their family and their friends are all gathered here now: several members of Nico’s extended family, with his parents right in front and Cayo settled on Amy’s lap. To Grady’s delight he spots Benny and a few other guys from the dirt bike track; Doris, the recently retired secretary from Stomp Records; Valencia and her daughter; the owners of his favorite record store; his favorite waitress from his favorite diner; the members of his band, of course, Billy, Mandy, Brad, and Mongo and their partners and families. Other musicians are here, too, and Spencer and Vince, so many faces that he encounters day-to-day, his community, his people. Grady’s chest swells fit to bursting with love for all of them.
Blended Notes Page 17
