by Jenny Hale
“Lovely,” Katharine said. She wriggled her hand under Joe’s arm and linked hers with his.
“Everything sounds fantastic, Holly,” Joe finally said when she’d finished, the sound of his voice making her happy.
“I’m just going to visit the ladies’ room,” Katharine said. “Then Joe and I are going out for the day! I hope you enjoy the rest of yours, Holly. It’s chilly but the sunshine is glorious.”
Holly nodded.
Katharine dropped Joe’s arm. “Be right back.” She walked away, leaving Joe and Holly in the entryway.
Silence immediately fell between them.
“I… Uh…” Holly started, trying to fill the void but knowing that anything she said wouldn’t work in this instance. “I…”
“Holly,” he said gently and every nerve in her body responded to it.
She wished she could somehow let him know that regardless of how their lives ended up, she really cared about him. She cared about whether he ever found his dad and whether he went to that café he liked near Times Square, or whether he had a chance to kickback and be Joey again one day since it seemed like he’d really enjoyed it.
The two of them stood, totally absorbed in the space between them, as if their surroundings had faded into nothingness and it was just Joe and Holly. Neither of them said anything. What could they say in this situation? Whatever they had experienced while staying together at the cabin wasn’t real life, Holly told herself. But it definitely was real to her. So real that she felt tears starting to surface, causing her to blink them away. Perhaps she was emotional because it was the first Christmas since Papa died where she’d had fun—at least that was what she was going to tell herself. Planning this wedding had been like one of those hidden gifts Papa talked about, the treasures that she had to look for to see. There would be more for her, she was certain.
“Thank you for waiting,” Katharine’s voice inched its way into her head.
She was glad that neither of them had said anything, because nothing good would’ve come of it. And this day wasn’t about Holly at all. It was about making great memories that would last generations. In a way, Holly could understand Katharine’s lack of interest in the wedding details now. When the roses were gone, the dress boxed up, all that mattered was the promise that Katharine and Joe would make to each other. The promise that would span their entire lives. The promise Joe had made to Katharine way before he’d ever set foot in the cabin this Christmas. That was what mattered most: love. How could she get in the way of that? But she knew one way to show Joe she cared: Holly could manage the details for them—she was great at that.
“I’m glad you liked my ideas,” Holly said. She stepped back from Joe and turned toward Katharine. “Is there anything else you’d like me to go over? Any questions you still have after seeing the estate?”
“Not that I can think of. Looks like you have it covered,” Katharine said.
Holly was glad for that. “Okay, then. Enjoy your day and text if you need anything at all.” Then, she hurried out the door. She couldn’t wait to tell Nana all about the plans she made today and how happy she felt making them.
Twenty-Nine
Holly was in the barn just as the sun slid above the horizon this morning. It was cold even with the furnace heat. Unable to sleep in at all, she’d gotten up and worked on the dresser, giving it a thin whitewash. While it dried, she sanded the old drawer pulls and then rubbed them with apple cider vinegar to distress them. Then she headed inside to get some breakfast.
Nana was in her chair, reading. They had spent last night playing board games, and Holly had told her all about the wedding. Despite the diversion, Holly had tossed and turned the entire night and then been awake before the sun this morning.
Papa’s sapphire ring glistened on Nana’s finger as she sat silently, turning the pages of her book. She acknowledged Holly with a glance but then went back to the text, her reading glasses on the end of her nose.
Holly grinned when she realized the book Nana had in her lap was War and Peace. “How’s the reading?” she asked.
“Like living in Papa’s head,” she said. “Not my cup of tea, but if he says I should read it, I’d better, because when I see him again, he’s going to ask. I just know it.” She rolled her eyes lovingly. Then she put her finger in the book and closed it for a second. “Rhett texted. He said he tried to get you, but you weren’t answering. He wants to come over in a bit.”
“Oh, I didn’t have my phone. I was in the barn,” Holly said. She’d be happy to immerse herself in whatever Rhett wanted to do. This Christmas had brought them close again, and she’d forgotten how much fun he could be.
So an hour later, when there was a knock on the door, Holly jumped up to get it.
“Hey!” Rhett slipped past her, kissing her on the cheek on his way in.
Holly shut the door.
“Nana, you’re looking lovely this morning.”
Nana grinned, shaking her head.
Rhett spun around to face Holly the way a child responds when his mother calls him sharply, but she hadn’t said anything. “You look like hell.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re beautiful,” he elaborated. “But you look like something’s put you through the ringer. You been partying without me?” He cut his eyes at her jokingly.
“I didn’t sleep very well last night.”
“You try Buddy’s buttermilk idea and everything?”
Buddy had clearly shared that tidbit with Rhett as well. “No. Maybe I should’ve.”
“Or maybe you just need to hang out with me more. Bet you slept like a baby after being at my place the other night.”
“She did,” Nana piped up. “Didn’t move the entire night and slept in the next morning.”
“Well, that’s an easy problem to solve then.” He opened his arms as if he were about to wrap Holly in a bear hug. “I’m at your service!”
Holly laughed and batted him away, ignoring his gesture. “That’s the thing about you, Rhett Burton: you think you can do anything.”
“Think?” Without warning, he scooped her up, throwing her over his shoulder. “I know I can do anything!” Grabbing her coat that was hanging by the door, he called, “I’ll have her back by dark, Nana! Love you!”
If that had been any other person, she’d have socked them one for picking her up against her will, but she and Rhett had a different kind of relationship. They could fight like siblings and they had so many experiences together that she could be completely herself with him, and she knew he felt the same way.
He didn’t set her down until they were at his vehicle, the old rattling hum like music to her ears.
Holly felt a surge of nostalgia when she saw it. “You brought the jeep.”
He opened her door, acknowledging her statement with a grin, and ushered her inside. He’d left it running and the interior was warm and comfortable. Rhett had owned this jeep since he was sixteen. He’d restored it himself and managed to keep it running and in great condition. It was where they’d had so many teenage talks about life, before either of them really knew what they were facing, where they ate ice cream together while watching the old drive-in movies in the lot outside of town, where they’d first heard his single on the radio, the year before Papa died, both of them squealing with delight.
Rhett went around and hopped in.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Nashville.” He put it in drive and headed down the hill toward the road.
* * *
“Broadway?” Holly asked when Rhett pulled the jeep to a stop, parallel parking along the side of one of the busiest nightspots in Nashville. Holly opened her door, bluesy melodies already coming at her from every direction. Located on Lower Broadway, this spot in the road consisted of bar after bar, each one with live music spilling onto the streets every single day—rain or shine.
They stood in front of one of the larger of the bars, its neon sign glowing brightly in r
eds and yellows against the crisp blue sky. Many of the big-named country music superstars had played there. It was just opening for the day, its doors unlocked and the doorman out front.
“Oh my God!” A shriek came from behind them and both Holly and Rhett turned around. “Rhett Burton?” A young, bleach blonde in her twenties with eyes like a doe and a row of bright white teeth was bouncing on her toes, her cell phone intermittently obscuring her face as she snapped photos with shaky hands. “No one’s going to believe this!” she nearly squealed as she snapped away. When she’d gotten enough images to single-handedly flood the Internet, she dropped her phone down by her side and asked, “May I have your autograph?”
As Rhett took a flier from the doorman and the girl wriggled around in her bag to find a pen, a buzz began to radiate out to passers-by. They were slowing, taking photos, hovering around, scrounging for scraps of paper and pens to get his autograph like the lucky girl who’d stopped him. Holly stood, feeling as if she were invisible to everyone, completely blindsided by the spectacle he was causing. She was aware of his popularity, but until she saw it first hand, it hadn’t seemed real somehow.
Before she knew it, their part of the street was full of people making their way over, and Rhett had to politely tell them that he needed to go in, taking Holly by the hand and pointing to the door. The marquee above them flashed his name before a screen full of digital fireworks that spelled “New Year’s Eve.” Some of the on-lookers followed them inside, and the doorman had to act as a shield between them and Rhett to allow him some space.
“Sorry about that,” he said, taking Holly over to a table and offering her a chair. He waved to one of the managers, who was lining up a row of guitars along the tables. “I thought we were plenty early and I’d parked close enough to avoid any chaos, but they just seem to find me.”
People were snapping photos of them while they chatted, making Holly anxious. The manager came over and introduced himself, but she missed his name with all the commotion. He handed Rhett a permanent marker and then said something about merchandise. Another bystander took her photo. She didn’t necessarily want pictures of herself floating around. But Rhett didn’t seem bothered at all. Had he already gotten used to this madness?
Rhett led her to the guitars where he scribbled his signature across the face of each of them. Then he picked one up and held it in the air as he addressed the manager who seemed thrilled to see what Rhett would do with it. He grabbed Holly’s hand and took her up onto the stage with him. “Watcha think of this?” he asked.
Holly turned her attention away from the crowd that had grown in size and peered over at the large expanse of lights and speakers, the microphone stands dwarfed by the width and breadth of the platform. An American flag hung against a white-bricked wall behind it, whiskey barrels set along the edge at various places for drinks and music, she supposed. There were open boxes lined up, full of gray T-shirts with Rhett’s name in red lettering.
“It’s nice.”
“Nice? It’s awesome, don’t you think?”
“Sorry. Yes, it’s awesome.” She smiled at him. “Those people are distracting me.”
“Oh, don’t let them bother you. They’re just excited. It used to be a shock when people stopped me like that. To make sense of it, I had to create two worlds for myself: there’s their world, the one they see, the photos they’re taking of the guy on the radio, and then there’s my world, the one right in front of me.” He put two fingers to his eyes and then pointed them toward hers. “Stay in my world,” he said.
Rhett took her by the hand again, leading her to the center of the stage and sending the cell phones into a frenzy. She tried to ignore them like Rhett had instructed. He offered her a wooden stool next to his and she sat beside him while he got comfortable with the guitar. To the delight of the crowd, he propped it up on his knee. Then he did the finger point from his eyes to hers again.
“Some say maybe one day…” he started to sing, and the place began filling up out of nowhere, a couple of hoots rang out from a few as they hurried to the edge of the stage, but Rhett held her gaze. “But I say right now…” He hit the chords, the song speeding up and making her heart race. And that was when she felt what Rhett had just explained. The people watching knew these words because they’d heard them on the radio or had seen Rhett play them on TV, but they didn’t know that he’d written them the day he’d decided, at the age of fourteen, over one of Papa’s grilled cheeseburgers, that he was going to be famous one day and he was going to start the journey right then.
He and Holly were painting the picket fence at his mother’s that summer, both of them covered in white speckles, and he started humming this tune, the notes coming to him by some cosmic creative force like they always did. He grabbed her arm with a paint-covered hand and they ran back to the house so he could get a pencil and his notebook and scribble down the words that had found their home in his mind. Papa made them both eat dinner so they wouldn’t “waste away,” Papa said.
“I’m going to sing this on stage one day,” Rhett told her then.
And here they were.
At the end of the song, he thanked the crowd and, with the place now filling up, he set down the guitar and led Holly to a back room where the musicians must get ready before their performances. She took a seat on a cowhide-covered sofa across from a mirror-lined wall and counter.
“I’m headlining here on New Year’s,” he said, dropping down beside Holly and putting his arm around her.
“Wow! New Year’s Eve on Broadway—Rhett, that’s what you’ve always wanted to do. I’m so thrilled for you.” Rhett could sell out stadiums all by himself, so she could only imagine the pandemonium he’d cause in such a small venue.
“Wanna come see me play? I’d like you to.”
Apart from the moment they’d just had, and at Otis’s, she’d never seen Rhett play publicly. She knew how much this performance meant to him. This was his home, and every one of his friends would be among the crowd. He’d played all over the world, but Nashville was different for him. He didn’t want to mess it up. It was clear he was asking for her support. “I’d love to,” she said.
“I’m having a driver drop me at the back door the evening of the show before the crowds start to gather. I can send him to get you after. It might be too much for Nana, but if she wants to watch, I could find her a pair of headphones and sit her in the back, just off stage.”
The idea was amusing. “She won’t stay up that late. But she’ll be delighted that you thought of her.” Holly paused, taking in the intense look he was giving her.
“I love having you with me,” he said suddenly. “Holly, I want to kiss you right now.”
“Rhett,” she said slowly, shaking her head.
“Okay.” He looked away, resigned.
“At least you asked this time,” she said with a half grin, bringing him back to her.
He broke into an enormous smile.
Thirty
The next few days, Holly busied herself with final wedding preparations for Joe and Katharine, putting the last coat of sealer and last few touches on the dresser out in the barn, and keeping Nana entertained. Thankfully, Holly had finished everything for the wedding via phone calls and texts and hadn’t seen Joe again, and, while she definitely felt his absence in the house, she managed to focus on the wonderful things around her.
Nana was thrilled with the look of the dresser once Holly finished it. Holly could just imagine a mirror above it, a lamp flanking each side, a small vase of flowers…
“You could open a shop with refinished furniture,” Nana said when she saw it.
“Possibly,” she said. She’d surprised herself. Holly loved the piece and couldn’t wait to start thinking about what she wanted to do with it.
Over the last few days, she and Nana had had lunch with Kay, and they visited Otis. Nana was smiling again. She’d made it an incredible two-thirds of the way through War and Peace, and they’d put an entire pu
zzle together. Holly had also been to Rhett’s house in the trees. They’d even written part of a new song, like old times. She held Hattie, worried about who would care for the kitten when they went to California. He reassured her that Kay would be taking care of the kitten, and Nana had offered to be a backup should they need anyone.
The soft undercurrent of normalcy had just started to settle through the cabin again when Nana dropped the bomb. “I spoke to Joe yesterday,” she said over her shoulder.
Holly, who’d been putting away laundry, stopped in the living room on her way to the bedroom, the basket of whites in her arms, and stared at her.
“He and Katharine are going to see Rhett play tonight for New Year’s.”
“What?” was all she could get out, but it was enough for Nana to respond.
“He called my phone while you were with Rhett. Said he couldn’t find one of his lists with the addresses of the wedding party.” She got up out of her chair and walked toward Holly, taking the basket from her arms and setting it down on the coffee table. “He eventually found it with his things and we got to talking. He mentioned not having plans for New Year’s, so I suggested he and Katharine go.”
“But Nana,” Holly said, the unique cocktail of elation over being able to see Joe again in a festive and laid back atmosphere and panic about Katharine being there with him pumped through her veins. “I was hoping not to have to see him again until the wedding.”
“I’m not sure that’s wise, dear.” Nana began folding the clothes in the laundry basket, making little piles on the coffee table.
“Why not?”
“I think you need to face this. You need to see those two together to get the Joe you met out of your mind. It’s important to fill your thoughts with images of real life. He’s not going to walk through that door, Holly. And you’re putting on a good front, but I know you too well, and that’s secretly what you’re hoping for.”
