Country: a novel Part 8

"I'm leaving Tuesday," she told him sadly, "so I can get to New York Wednesday night. Louise has some time on Thursday, and Friday I'll head back to California."

"Are you sure you don't want me to send you back on the bus and tow the car?" He was even more worried about her now that he knew her better. But she insisted she'd be fine.

"I'm a big girl." She smiled at him. "I've never done it before, but I kind of want to. I have a lot to think about on the way back." Him, her life, and where to go from here.

"You could come back here," he said hopefully, but he knew she wouldn't. At least not for a while. He wanted to give her s.p.a.ce and time to a.s.sess her life and make some plans, but he wasn't going to stay away from her for long. He couldn't. She meant too much to him now, and she was under his skin, and woven into his heart.

"I'll come back to Nashville," she said, and meant it. "I just don't know when."

"I can come out to see you."

"I'd like that," she said quietly. It would make him seem like part of her real life, not just a fantasy of some kind or a dream. The truth was pretty hard to believe. She had taken a wrong turn and gone to Las Vegas, met a country music superstar at the Grand Canyon, and been following him ever since, back to Vegas, across the country, and to Nashville, where she had never been happier in her life. But now she had to go home and figure out who she was without Bill. She had to put Bill to rest, before she could open her arms to Chase. She knew she was falling in love with him, but she didn't know what it meant, or how it would work, or if it even could.

She had been living her life in service to her husband and children for so long that without them now she felt as though she had no ident.i.ty. And she wanted to come to Chase as a whole person, and not just become his shadow too. She felt like she had no shadow of her own, and the things that had validated her existence and ident.i.ty were no longer true. She was no longer anyone's wife, which had been her princ.i.p.al role for twenty-six years. She had no children to take care of at home. She had no career. No one needed her anymore. She lived in an empty house in San Francisco, and she felt like a fifth wheel with her friends. But she couldn't just run away and hide in his very full life in Nashville. She had to find out who she was first, and her own ident.i.ty, now that she was a free woman, not just attach herself to his. He understood that but it frightened him when she explained it to him over dinner that night, when they cooked together again, and chatted in his kitchen for a long time.

"I'll be waiting for you," he said calmly, trying to sound more confident than he felt. What if she decided that she liked her old life best, with her old friends, and without him, in her familiar city and home? He wanted to share his world with her. But she was a woman with dignity, who wanted to establish some purpose in her life, and not be totally dependent on him to meet her needs. He loved her for it. He loved her for everything she was. He just hoped that she would find her way through the maze and come back to him. It was all he wanted now.

Chapter 13.

Stephanie and Chase spent a quiet day together on Monday. She knew he had a lot to do, but he said he wanted to be with her. They took the dogs for a long walk in Centennial Park, as long as George would allow since he hated to walk and kept sitting down and glaring at them. They kept the conversation light and tried not to worry about the future. Neither of them knew what would happen. All they knew was how great the last two weeks had been. That was already something, and it felt like a huge blessing and stroke of luck to both of them. A few minutes more or less on the trail at the Grand Canyon, and they would never have met. She could have decided to drive straight back to San Francisco and not returned to Vegas, or never gone to the Grand Canyon at all, or not come to Nashville. Instead they had seized every opportunity they'd been given and made the best of it, and the result had been perfect. Neither of them would have traded the time they had shared for anything else in the world. Now they just had to figure out how to keep it going, with his very busy life, and hers three thousand miles away. And her life wasn't busy. Far from it. She seriously questioned how much she had to bring to the relations.h.i.+p. She had to find herself and get back her self-confidence before she could be with him. She had to sort it all out when she got home. And Chase truly hoped she would decide they should be together.

They lingered in each other's arms that night, and she was sorely tempted to make love with him. But she didn't want to confuse the issues further. She knew that once she did, her commitment to him would preclude all clear, rational thinking. She wanted to stay as lucid as she could while she thought about everything, and he didn't want to interfere with that, although he was dying to make love with her and had to force himself not to pressure her. He wanted to make love to her more than he had ever wanted to with any woman. She stayed with him until four a.m., and they alternately kissed and dozed in each other's arms. She had to force herself to get up, and he drove her home at four-thirty.

"I think we need to make love, just so we get some sleep," he teased her. And they sat and kissed again in the car, and then she left him. She was leaving the next morning, and she had no idea when she'd see him again. They just had to trust that the right things would happen, as they had till then. These had been the happiest two weeks of her life, and his. She was the woman he had been looking for, and hadn't known it. And he was the man she wished she'd married. But if so, their lives would have been very different, and maybe it wouldn't have lasted when they were young. They both felt ready now to take on a serious commitment, but they knew they couldn't decide that after two weeks.

She finally extricated herself from his arms and walked into the lobby of the hotel. And he had a heavy heart as he drove back to Brentwood. He lay on his bed with his clothes on and thought about her. And she lay in bed at the hotel and watched the sun come up. She hardly got any sleep. And he was sleeping soundly between his two dogs when she drove out of Nashville, and saw the Parthenon for the last time. It was still early, and the city looked magical in the early morning light under a pastel sky. She headed for the highway that would take her to Knoxville and then on to Roanoke that night, and Chase had promised to call her along the way.

She got the first call from him at noon, after she left Nashville that morning. "How's it going?" he asked in his now familiar drawl on speakerphone in her car. It was a hot June day. She had the air conditioning on in the car, but she could tell it was hot outside too. She had just pa.s.sed Fall Branch, Tennessee, after four hours on the road.

"It's okay. I miss you," she said, sounding as sad as he did, but it was nice having someone to miss, and the memories of the past two weeks to take with her. It felt like a dream now. But it was also real.

He told her what he was going to do that day. He had meetings with his record label, and he had to audition new drummers. Charlie had had an offer to play with a band in Vegas, and was leaving after five years, which was a big deal, and she knew that Chase was upset about it. He had to get off the phone after a few minutes and promised to call her later. He called her after the meeting at three, and then much later, when she had just checked into the Hotel Roanoke that he had recommended. She called Louise to tell her that she was halfway there, and Louise was at a dinner party so they didn't really talk. And when Chase called her to say goodnight, Stephanie was already half asleep, so they didn't stay on long. Their lives were already taking divergent paths, and they were on different rhythms. He had just come home from band auditions, and they still hadn't found a drummer to replace Charlie, whom he liked and felt at ease with.

Stephanie left Roanoke at seven the next morning, while Chase was still asleep, and she had no reception on her cell when he called her as she went past the Blue Ridge Mountains. She drove steadily and didn't stop for lunch. She drove into a truck stop late that afternoon and bought a sandwich and kept driving. She finally reached the George Was.h.i.+ngton Bridge and crossed the Hudson River into New York at six-thirty. She called Chase to tell him, and he was in a meeting and couldn't talk. She missed him fiercely, but she was looking forward to seeing Louise the following day. She was at a big Sotheby's art auction that night and couldn't see her. And as she drove toward the Carlyle Hotel where she always stayed, Sandy called her. They had had a tearful goodbye on Monday, and Sandy told her that Bobby Joe was still being a jerk to her.

"He keeps telling me I have no voice, and that Chase only uses me in the band because he feels sorry for me."

"That's ridiculous," Stephanie said, angry at him. Bobby Joe was such a c.o.c.ky little b.a.s.t.a.r.d. "Chase has an important career. He's not going to screw up the band with charity cases. Bobby Joe is jealous, Sandy, that's all it is." She didn't dare ask her if Michael had called her. She hoped he would. They chatted for a few minutes, and Stephanie got off the phone as she got into the heavy traffic on the West Side Highway, then drove across town through Central Park to the Carlyle Hotel on Madison Avenue. It was an elegant hotel, and they knew her from her frequent visits to Louise and Charlotte. She'd had an e-mail from Charlotte the day before-she'd gone to Paris with friends and was having a ball traveling in Europe. She was due home at the end of the month, and she didn't sound like she was looking forward to it. Summer in San Francisco was not going to measure up to living in Rome for the last year. And she was going back to NYU in August for her senior year.

Stephanie checked into the hotel, ran a bath, and ordered room service, and she was lounging on her bed when Chase called her. He was happy to hear her voice, and relieved that she had gotten to New York okay. He had interviewed more drummers and found one who might work, but he wasn't sure yet. He wanted to play with him a few times, and he'd gotten another booking in Vegas. He was rehearsing with the band that night. He said he missed her, but she didn't see how he had time to. And her life at home was so staid compared to his. She had talked to Jean about it while she drove through New Jersey.

"Stop looking for problems," Jean had told her. "It sounds like you met a great guy, and now you're trying to find reasons why it won't work."

"They might not be hard to find," Stephanie said, sounding worried. "Our lives are so different. His is going a hundred miles an hour. Mine is dead in the water. I'll get lost if I'm with him. I don't even know who I am yet. I need some kind of activity of my own so I can bring something to the table too."

"You'll find something to do. And he didn't fall for you for the career you don't have. He fell for you. Don't forget that."

"What's to fall for? I'm boring."

"No, you're not. You're a smart, interesting woman. And he loves you. Or at least it sounds like it."

"He says he does, but what does he know?" Stephanie said, feeling sorry for herself, and Jean laughed.

"Just stop it. And I can't believe you didn't sleep with him. I would have."

"I need to think about it, and figure out what I'm doing before I jump into the deep end."

"You're much too sensible, and much too n.o.ble. Live a little. You only live once, Steph. We don't get another go-around. All we get is this one."

"I'm trying not to screw up my life, and his." She sounded earnest about it.

"You won't. What does he say?"

"That he loves me."

"Take it and run," Jean advised her. "Or give me his number." They both laughed and hung up a minute later. Stephanie still hadn't told Alyson what she'd been doing, other than visiting Michael in Atlanta. And the baby had gotten the chicken pox after the others, so she was still busy. It was hard to believe that they'd all been in Santa Barbara together only weeks before. Her whole life had changed in the meantime.

She went to bed early that night, after talking to Chase. They talked several times a day. And she went to the Metropolitan Museum the next day, and then went for a walk in Central Park all the way down to the Plaza Hotel, and then back up Madison Avenue to the Carlyle. She was meeting Louise at seven.

When Stephanie got to Louise's apartment on Eighty-ninth Street, Louise had just gotten home from work, and she looked stressed. There was another art auction the next day, and she had a lot to do to help get it ready, and they'd found a mistake in the catalogue she was afraid she'd get blamed for. She was a pretty girl with dark hair and blue eyes and looked like her father. Michael and Charlotte looked like Stephanie, but Louise was the image of Bill's mother.

Louise finally started to calm down by the time they got to the restaurant, a small French bistro near her apartment that she had suggested, and Louise said as soon as they ordered how weird it was that her mother was driving around like a lost soul, visiting them. She had said as much to Michael a few days before, and he had said he thought their mother was lonely.

"I visited a friend from college," Stephanie said staunchly, sticking to her story. "I had nothing else to do, and I wanted to see Michael and you."

"And now you're driving back to California? Mom, that's crazy. People do that in college, not at your age." Stephanie always felt she had to defend herself to her older daughter. Louise had turned criticizing her into a full-time job since high school. And at twenty-three, she was still at it. "I take it the monster is still with Michael. Did she come to Nashville?" Stephanie didn't tell her about Sandy, or she'd have something to say about that too.

"Yes, she came with him. She loved the concert."

"And that's another thing. When did you become a fan of country music?" Louise was always suspicious of her mother, and now she had good reason to be and didn't know it.

"My friend Laura from college lives there, and she introduced me to Chase Taylor. He gave us comp tickets to the concert."

"Why?"

"I guess rock stars and country music stars do that. We all enjoyed it."

"It sounds insane to me. Why don't you go to Europe and visit Charlotte?"

"Because she has better things to do than hang around with me. She's busy with her friends from school before she comes back to San Francisco. The last thing she'd want is me showing up." And Louise didn't look too pleased about it either. Whenever Stephanie visited New York, Louise acted as though she was intruding on her. She had always been happy to see her father. And she began extolling his virtues again before the end of dinner. The father who had always been there for her, for all of them, who had taught her everything she knew, who was the most patient, giving, loving, finest man on earth-who in truth had spent as little time as possible with them and had never been there. It was Stephanie who had done everything for them, which Louise no longer remembered.

"Life is never going to be the same without Daddy," she said mournfully, as tears rolled down her cheeks, and Stephanie felt sorry for her.

"I know it won't, sweetheart. But Daddy wouldn't want you crying about him all the time. And you'll feel better about it in a while." It had only been four months, although Michael was doing better than his sisters. He was sad to have lost his dad but was less devastated by it. Louise had always idolized him and was his favorite child.

"What about you? Are you feeling better?" she asked her mother in an accusing tone, wiping away her tears with her napkin.

"Sometimes I feel better. I miss him all the time, but I'm trying to get my life back on track. We can't sit here and just mourn him forever. That doesn't mean we don't care. But we have to have a good life without him." Stephanie was gentle but definite about it.

"It's not the same, Mom. Who's going to take care of us now?" She was echoing Stephanie's own panic until she'd realized she'd been relying on herself anyway, when Bill was alive.

"I'm still here. And Daddy provided for all of you." She wanted to tell her daughter that she had to move on, but even in her head the words didn't sound right.

"It's not about money. I could call him anytime I had a problem." Stephanie wanted to shout "No, you couldn't." He had never been there to listen, to them or to her. He always sounded irritated when she called him at the office. And once the kids left for college, he never called them. How had Louise forgotten? He had been a solid husband and father but not an attentive one. She was the one who always listened to their problems, but Louise refused to give her credit now. According to her, all the credit went to her father. She just couldn't accept what he hadn't done for them, and since his death, she had created a fantasy father and negated everything her mother had ever done.

But Stephanie didn't want to call her on it. She wasn't going to get in an argument with her daughter about who was the best parent. In Louise's current state of mind, it would have been a losing battle.

"Are you going out with anyone?" her mother asked her, trying to change the subject, which would at least put them on level ground, without her distorted memories of her father.

"No," Louise said bluntly. She was a pretty girl, but inclined to be too serious and work too hard. "I haven't met anyone interesting in months. And I'm in no mood to go to parties since Daddy died."

"You have to go out," Stephanie told her gently. "You can't just work all the time."

"Why not? Daddy did. You don't understand, Mom. You've never had a job." Louise dismissed her as a lowly housewife.

"I had a job when I was your age. I stopped working when I was pregnant with Michael, and Daddy wanted me to stay home after he was born, and then I had you and Charlotte." As usual, she was defending herself and getting nowhere. "I want to get a job now," she threw into the conversation.

"Doing what?" Louise looked as if she thought it was a ridiculous idea.

"I haven't figured that out yet." Stephanie was embarra.s.sed to admit it.

"Why don't you just do volunteer work for the Junior League or something?" She thought it was all her mother was good for, lunching with socialites to plan fas.h.i.+on shows for charity. Stephanie was sure they did good work, but she needed more in her life than that, especially now that she no longer had a husband or kids at home. She wanted to do something meaningful. Her work at the shelter was a start.

"I'd like to do something more important. I like the work I'm doing now at the adolescent homeless shelter," she explained to Louise, "but I'd kind of like to get a paying job."

"You don't need one." The conversation faltered then, and after dinner Stephanie walked her back to her apartment.

"Do you want to have lunch tomorrow?" Stephanie asked her, and Louise shook her head. She looked as though she were eating herself up with grief over her father. It took a lot of energy to keep the fantasy going, and in order to validate it, she had to reject her mother. Stephanie understood it, but she didn't like it, and it was tough being on the receiving end of her daughter's anger. Instead of being angry at her father for dying, as Stephanie had been herself, Louise was furious at her mother for her father's slights.

"I can't," she said to her mother's invitation. "I have to work on the auction. It's tomorrow night."

"That's fine. Then I'll leave in the morning." She had nothing else to do in New York, and had only come to see Louise, which as usual hadn't been pleasant. She hoped that one day it would get better.

"Thanks for coming, Mom," she finally said as they stood in the doorway of her building. Although not a fancy address, it was modern and clean, and safe for her, with a doorman, which was a comfort to her mother. "I'm sorry I'm still so down about Dad. I just don't know how to get out of it."

"Maybe you should talk to someone. I am. And it's been helping."

"He'll still be just as dead if I go to a shrink," Louise said, and as she said it, she burst into tears and melted into her mother's arms. It was the first sign of closeness Stephanie had felt from her all evening. She held Louise in her arms, and let her cry, and wished there were something she could do to help her, but only time was going to ease the pain she was in. It made Stephanie sad for her. She had been much too young to lose her father, they all were. Louise had taken it the hardest of all of her children, since she had been the closest to him.

"Think about it," Stephanie said gently, about talking to a therapist.

"I don't have time. I'm too busy. You have nothing else to do. I'm working." She could never resist taking a swing at her mother.

"You can make time, at lunchtime or after work. I think it would help you." Louise shrugged and dried her tears again and hugged her mother.

"I'm okay. I just miss him."

"So do I." It was true, but Stephanie still had a lot of unresolved issues about him, and now they never would be. She wanted to deal with that before she made any big decisions about Chase. She didn't want to go to him with a lot of heavy baggage. She needed to empty those bags first, and arrive with a clean slate, and she knew she wasn't there yet. Like Louise, she needed more time to heal the pain, although for different reasons.

"Take care of yourself, I love you," Stephanie said, and hugged her again, and then with a depressed look, Louise waved and walked into her building. It hadn't been an easy evening, but it never was with Louise. She never gave her mother a fair shake, particularly since Bill died.

Stephanie walked back to the hotel in the balmy evening and told Chase about it later. He was sympathetic. He said that in his opinion girls were harder than boys, although he hadn't had too rough a time with Sandy, and she wasn't his child, which made a difference.

"And I'm probably a lot tougher than you are." He already knew Stephanie was a gentle person, maybe too much so with her daughter who, to him, sounded like she needed a swift kick in the b.u.t.t to get her going and stop blaming her mother. He wasn't sympathetic to her cause. Everyone had hard knocks in life, which he felt were no excuse to take it out on someone else.

"I think girls have issues with their mothers," Stephanie said rationally. Louise certainly did. "I am so tired of hearing how fabulous Bill was to them, when in fact he did so little."

"It sounds like they need a dose of reality about their father," Chase commented.

"It's too late for that now. You can't malign the dead, even if it's true."

"So he goes down in history as a saint forever?"

"It looks that way," Stephanie said, sounding discouraged. And even though she was difficult to be with, she felt sorry for her daughter and helpless to take away her pain over losing her father.

"So when do you leave New York?" he asked, changing the subject.

"First thing tomorrow morning." He had helped her plan her route. And he was still sorry she wasn't willing to take the bus and tow the car.

"Call me if you have any problem," he said firmly.

"Can you change a tire long distance?" she teased him.

"No, and don't you do it either. Call a towing service if you have car trouble or a flat tire."

"I promise." She was looking forward to the trip, although she hated that it was taking her farther away from him, but the sooner she sorted out her life, the sooner they could be together.

He promised to call her the next day while she was driving, and she knew he would. He had been totally reliable so far, and always kept his word, even when he was busy. He made time for her, and she felt like a priority to him, and she loved it.

She went to bed that night thinking about Louise and wis.h.i.+ng that there were some way to help her. But all Louise wanted was her father, which was the one thing her mother couldn't give her. It was a totally no-win situation, and Stephanie was trying to accept it. It was up to Louise to figure it out now, particularly since she didn't want her mother's help. She had to do it on her own.

Chapter 14.