Country (9 page)

Jean called her that night again when she was getting dressed and wanted to know what was going on and when she was coming home, and had she slept with Chase Taylor yet.

“Stop that. We're just friends. He's a really decent guy. I'm just having fun, hanging out with the band.” She felt like a teenager as she said it, and Jean laughed. “I'm driving back tomorrow. I'll see you on Friday for lunch.”

“I can't wait.” Jean felt like her partner in crime.

Stephanie still hadn't heard from her kids in several days, which was typical, and no one knew where she was except Jean. She wouldn't have told them anyway. They would have thought she'd lost her mind.

Stephanie showed up at Chase's dressing room that night at ten, carrying a shopping bag. He was stretched out on the couch with his long legs, reading the paper, and he stood up as soon as she walked in. He kissed her on the cheek and offered her a drink, but she was happy to just sit there and relax with him. It felt good to be a part of it, and she was surprisingly comfortable with him, like an old friend. Several members of the band came in to ask him about various technical details, and Sandy walked in and was happy to see her there.

“Hi, Stevie. What are you doing here?” She looked surprised and pleased.

“Hanging out,” she said, laughing at her words. As she said it, Stephanie handed her the bag. Sandy reached into it with a puzzled look, and found the mouse shoes in her size. She gave a squeal of delight and threw her arms around her benefactor's neck. She tried them on and they fit perfectly, as Chase watched the scene looking touched. After she left, Chase turned to Stephanie.

“That was sweet of you to do. I never do things like that for her, and I should. I just give her money and tell her to go shop. That's what I meant. She's starving for a woman in her life. Delilah takes her out shopping sometimes for clothes to wear on stage. Thanks, Stevie. I really appreciate it.”

“I enjoyed it, and it's a small thing to do.” She made little gestures like that every day for her kids when they were around, and sent them small gifts when she found something she knew they'd love. She was good at it, the motherly duties she enjoyed for so long, and missed so much now.

He chatted easily with her before the show, and then took her backstage with him before he went on. He found a chair for her, in the wings, and Sandy blew her a kiss as she flew by on her way to take her place on stage. The show was even better than it had been the night before. She couldn't see Chase except on a monitor, but she could hear him. She was starting to know some of his songs.

She told him how good it had been when he walked back to her after the show, and he smiled and put an arm around her shoulders.

“Come on, let's get out of here. I'm starving, let's go eat.” He let the band go to dinner on their own and took her to a small restaurant on the edge of town with Cajun food and chicken wings and ribs. They ate with their fingers, and it was delicious. He had a hearty appetite, and was always hungry after a show. They sat there eating and talking until almost three a.m., and then he drove her back to the hotel.

“Can I talk you into staying for our last night? We're leaving on Friday. You could go back to San Francisco then.”

“Now I really am a groupie,” she said, laughing, but she was easy to convince this time. She was enjoying herself too much to leave, and he was pleased. He walked across the lobby with her, with his long easy stride. People noticed him immediately and wondered who the woman was with him. He kissed her quickly on the cheek at the elevator and disappeared, before anyone could start asking for autographs. They were all drunks at that hour, and he wasn't in the mood. He called her as soon as she got to her room. And she was tired too. It had been a long, busy day.

“Sorry I ditched you, Stevie. I didn't want to deal with fans.” She understood, and she lay down on the bed with the phone.

“It's fine. I had a great time tonight. San Francisco is going to be even more miserable now. What am I going to do at night?”

“Come to Nashville, then. I can show you around. We're recording next week, and you can sit in the studio with us. And we're playing a concert that weekend. Nashville is an amazing place. You can be our good luck charm.” He felt as though she already was, and everybody liked her.

“I'm not sure that's a proper job. It might be a little hard to explain.”

“Then don't explain it. Just come.”

“I've already been here for two days, and I'm staying tomorrow. I have to go home sometime.” But she could no longer think why. She was having too much fun here with them.

“We'll talk about it tomorrow,” he said firmly, and she laughed. They both knew she had to go home. But in the meantime, she was having the best time she'd had in years. “See you tomorrow, Stevie. Sleep tight,” he said in a tired voice. He had given the show his all tonight. He always did. And Sandy had been terrific too, and put her mouse shoes on the minute she came off stage. “You can become Sandy's mentor, or mine,” he said warmly. He liked spending time with her.

“There's nothing I could teach you that you don't already know,” she said kindly. He was a wise man, and she agreed with the wisdom he had shared about life.

“I don't think that's true, Stevie. You're a very special woman. You just don't know it yet. Come to Nashville and find out.” She didn't know what he meant by that and didn't want to ask. She liked the friendship that they shared, and she wasn't ready for it to be more, with him or anyone. And he had sensed that from the moment they met. He was satisfied with what they had. He just liked being with her. He hadn't enjoyed anyone this much in years. “Get some sleep. We'll figure out something to do tomorrow, or just lie by the pool and relax. I'll call you in the morning,” he promised.

“I'd like that,” she answered, and they both hung up. It had been another perfect day. And she was thoroughly enjoying her new friend. And so was he.

They spent the morning at the pool the next day, until people started hounding him for autographs. And they went back to his suite, and ordered lunch there. It was still impressive to Stephanie to see how fans chased after him and intruded on him every place he went. He was always gracious about it, but it was wearing after a while.

They were halfway through lunch when Chase brought up the subject of Nashville again.

“I know this isn't the kind of thing you do,” he began, “but it's a hell of an opportunity to see the city with someone like me. It's a two-day drive from here. I can drive your car for you, or one of the boys in the band. You can stay a few days and then drive back to San Francisco. And you can visit your son in Atlanta while you're there. Come on, Stevie. We're having such a good time. Don't leave now.” His eyes pleaded with her when he said it, and she was touched. And he was right, it was an opportunity, but it made no sense in her real life. What was she doing following a country music band around the country from Las Vegas to Nashville, and then driving back west alone? It was really a stretch for her. But the alternative was depressing. Sooner or later she had to go home. Why not have some fun before she did? He did all he could to convince her, and by the end of lunch she still wasn't sure. The chance to visit Michael in Atlanta appealed to her and almost seemed like a good excuse, but not quite.

“I don't know, Chase. And you have work to do when you get home.” He had told her about the new album they were doing.

“Yes, but I'd love to show you around. Just come for a few days, and you can see your boy.” He was touching every chord he could.

“If my boy wants to see me. He has a girlfriend I don't like, and she's not crazy about me either.”

“A local girl?” She nodded. “Ah, a Georgia peach. They're the worst kind. Saccharine sweet while they knife you in the back.” He had described her perfectly, and Stevie laughed.

“You're a very convincing man,” Stephanie said with a serious look. But she knew it was something she might never do again, and what better way to see Nashville than with him?

“So have I convinced you?” He looked hopeful, and she shook her head.

“Almost. I just don't know how to explain this to anyone. It's so not part of my normal life.” But her normal life now was loneliness and grief. She dreaded going home, which was how she had wound up in Las Vegas in the first place. But Nashville felt like she'd really be pushing it, and leading someone else's life, not her own.

“Then don't explain it. Who do you need to explain it to?”

“My son, if I show up.”

“Can't you say you were visiting an old friend? You have nothing else to do right now. That might sound okay to them.”

“Yeah, it might,” she said, looking pensive, and then she sank her chin into her hands with a sigh. “Maybe I should just stop worrying about it and do it. I can figure out some explanation later. I don't know why I feel like I need to explain things to anyone, or make excuses, or have their permission. I'm just not used to doing whatever I want. Maybe they don't give a damn anyway. My kids are grown up, so am I.” She looked troubled as she glanced at him. “Okay, I'll come to Nashville. I can tell my grandchildren about it one day, about when I made friends with a famous country music star and followed his band to Nashville.” He smiled at what she said and her expression, and he was happy she agreed. He was enjoying her company too much to want to see her go. It was one of those rare encounters in life that seemed important to both of them, although neither of them knew why. And he knew that sooner or later she had to go back to San Francisco, where she lived.

“Do you mind driving back cross country alone?” He was mildly worried about it. She had a good car and was an independent woman, but she was still a woman on her own.

“I'll be fine.”

“You can always have the car shipped from Nashville and fly home,” he suggested, but she shook her head. She liked the challenge, and it would be a good time to just think peacefully while she drove. “I'll drive your car for you tomorrow, or we can ride the bus if you prefer.”

“I think it would be fun to drive,” she said as they left the lunch table in his suite. They chatted for a while, and then she went back to her own room. She wanted to buy a few things for the trip to Nashville. She was running out of clothes. She had only brought enough for the weekend at the Biltmore, and even if she only stayed a few days in Nashville, with the drive back, she needed clothes now for ten days. She was about to leave her room to go shopping when Chase called her and offered to go with her.

“Won't your fans drive you crazy?”

“We'll see how it goes.” But he liked the idea of shopping with her, and he wanted to give her an idea of what she might need. And from her perspective, suddenly she had a pal to do things with, and he made everything more fun.

They started out on foot and went to one of the huge malls she had already discovered. He was wearing dark glasses and a baseball cap, and they got through two stores before anyone recognized him.

And he made their shopping expedition an adventure. Stephanie burst out laughing at the first thing he chose for her. It was a red-sequined stretch jumpsuit that he said would look great on her figure, and it took her a minute to realize he was kidding. She picked out jeans, a pair of white silk slacks, and a white cotton jacket, while he concentrated on a low-cut silk blouse and a black leather miniskirt that made her laugh.

“Are you kidding? I'll get arrested.”

“Not in Nashville, Stevie. Why not? It would look great on you.” She tried to imagine what Bill would say if she had shown up in an outfit like that. They compromised on a short denim skirt, and one sexy black top and a short white denim skirt she could wear with her high-heeled sandals. It was still younger looking and more revealing than most things she would have bought if she'd gone shopping on her own, but it was new for her to have the male point of view while she shopped, and she liked it. It was nice knowing what he wanted to see her in and thought looked good on her. Bill hadn't gone shopping with her since they were first married, and even then he considered it a painful chore that he was happy to give up after the first year. Her entire wardrobe was one that suited a respectably married woman, and was not meant to make her look sexy or even attractive. Everything she owned was practical, conservative, and fairly plain. Chase reminded her that she looked fifteen years younger than she was and had a great figure, and should take advantage of it. It was strange hearing him say it, and when she got home she tried on everything they'd bought. It all looked good on her, but she hardly recognized the woman in the mirror, in the short white skirt and a youthful pale pink top. She wondered what her daughters would say if they saw her.

She called Jean and told her what she was doing. She felt uncomfortable not having someone know where she was, and where she was going.

“Has he put the make on you yet?”

“No, and I don't want him to,” Stephanie said firmly. She didn't have the same fantasies as Jean. She was enjoying their friendship and didn't want to spoil it with anything more.

“Why not?” Jean asked her, and Stephanie thought about it.

“I still feel married. Maybe I always will.” She sounded sad for a minute as she said it.

“I hope not. Bill didn't when he had that affair,” she reminded her. Jean never minced words.

“That was different.”

“Yes, it was. You wouldn't be cheating if you went out with this guy. You're a free woman, Steph.”

“It's only been four months, not even that.”

“Well, keep your options open. He sounds like a nice guy.”

“He is. But it would spoil everything if we got involved. We're just having a good time, and I don't live in Nashville. And his life is completely different from mine. I'm just going to Nashville for a few days. I'll visit Michael in Atlanta, and then I'm coming home.”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

“Both,” Stephanie said, and laughed.

“Let me know where you are. And have fun.”

They talked for a few minutes and hung up, and Stephanie went backstage again that night. It felt like a familiar scene now. After three days the band was starting to treat her like one of them, and Sandy loved talking to her. Stephanie had shown her photographs of her children, and Sandy had worn the mouse shoes that day. Delilah had shown Stephanie photographs of her children too.

Their performance that night was electrifying, and the audience loved them, and knowing it was their last night got everyone even more worked up. Chase had Sandy sing a solo, and she was great. She told Stephanie afterward that she had worn the mouse shoes for good luck, although she usually wore stilettos on stage.

They went back to the diner for dinner, and Chase had an enormous steak. He was starving as usual when he finished work, and told her all about Nashville while he ate.

“You're going to love it,” he said with a look of excitement in his eyes, and Stephanie couldn't wait. It was a trip she would never have taken without him, but a place she had always wanted to visit, after reading about the music scene there. But she'd never had a reason to go.

The band went back to pack up their equipment after dinner. There was a truck that would be following the bus, and Chase had told her they would be leaving at nine the next morning. She promised to be ready on time.

She had trouble sleeping that night, she was thinking about the trip. And just as she was falling asleep, she had a text from Charlotte just checking in. Stephanie answered her immediately, and didn't say where she was or where she was going. She still had to invent a credible story for all of them, about a college friend she had decided to visit, but she didn't broach the subject yet. And Charlotte hadn't asked how she was, and assumed she was at home. She had just written to tell her mother what she was doing. She said she was going to Venice for the weekend. And Stephanie was relieved to know she'd be home in a few weeks, toward the end of June. After answering her text, Stephanie lay awake for another hour, wondering what Bill would think of what she was doing, and if he would approve. And she couldn't help wondering too what he would have been doing if she was the one who had died. But he would have had his work as a lawyer to keep him grounded. She didn't have anything except the kids, and her occasional work at the shelter, which just wasn't enough.

Stephanie was ready when Chase called her from the lobby the next morning. She'd been up since seven, her bags were packed, and she'd had coffee and scrambled eggs.

“Ready for your big adventure?” Chase teased her. It was hard to believe that they had met only three days before and had become friends. He was opening the doors to a whole new world, one that she was really starting to enjoy.

“I'm ready,” she said, and called the bell captain after she hung up. When she got downstairs, the boys in the band were just boarding the bus with Delilah and Sandy, who waved at Stephanie. She was wearing the mouse shoes again.

“You're going to wear them out,” Chase called after her, and she made a face at him and disappeared into the bus. The truck had already left with their equipment and headed to Nashville, and Chase slipped behind the wheel of Stephanie's car. She got into the passenger seat, and they took off, following the bus. The day was hot, and they had a long way to travel. Stephanie wore shorts, a T-shirt, and sandals, and Chase was wearing his torn jeans and a tank top, which showed off all his tattoos.

He turned on the radio as they drove down the strip toward the highway, and sang along to the music in his strong clear voice. She smiled at what she was listening to, her very own concert. It was still hard to believe. And as they set off on the open road, with the bus behind them by then, Stephanie started to sing with him, in a cautious voice at first. He pretended not to notice, so as not to make her self-conscious, and waited through several songs before he said anything.

“You've got a damn fine voice,” he said, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Not really. I just like singing.” He smiled at her then.

“You've got perfect pitch. And not one false note. I should hire you to sing with the girls.”

“Yeah, right.”

He flipped through the stations then, until he came to some country music, and sang along with that, and she joined him on the ones she knew. She got braver as he got louder, and they were having a good time.

“Have you ever thought of writing lyrics?” he asked her, and she shook her head.

“I don't think I could.”

“You said you like to write. You should try it sometime. It's fun. I'll show you how it works. All you need are some couplets and a refrain. You just tell a story with words, about who screwed over whom, who broke whose heart, and how long they've been crying ever since. You know, just like real life.” She laughed.

“You make it sound so simple.”

“It is. Just listen to the songs.” She knew he wrote his own music and lyrics, and most of his songs were touching, told a story, and were very good. And the melodies were easy to sing. “I'll bet you could do it if you tried. We can try it when we get to Nashville. Hell, I'll turn you into a country singer yet.”

“Oh God, that's a frightening thought. You'd be out of business in a week.”

“Maybe not,” he said, smiling at her again. She was easy to be with, and they were quiet for long periods, as Nevada slid by them. He was happy to be going home. He told her about the house he had remodeled a few years before, with a professional sound studio in it, where he recorded, and about his dogs. It sounded like a good life, and he didn't seem to mind being alone.

“After Tamra, I needed some time off,” he explained to her when they talked about it as he drove. “It just got too intense, but that's how she is. She set fire to all my clothes once, when she thought I'd cheated on her.” He smiled at the memory now, but he hadn't then.