One More Summer

by Burke, Dez

  “We still have a little more time to work something out,” I say. “The summer isn’t over yet.”

  “Not with the press stalking all of us.” Annie shakes her head at me. “I don’t know what will change in a week’s time or even a month’s time. I need to know where we stand. We can’t keep pretending everything is the same as it was when we were kids. Time doesn’t roll back that way.”

  “You’re right. I’m not being fair to you. What do you want to talk about?”

  She fixes her eyes on me and takes a breath before speaking. “Let’s answer the big question first. Are you going back to Nashville soon? I know it’s always on your mind. In your heart, you already know what you’re planning to do. I can see it in your eyes. You’ve never been able to fool me for a second, Levi.”

  “That’s because I’ve never tried to,” I tell her. I glance away from her, unable to meet her eyes. “We both know I have to go back eventually,” I say after a long moment. “Music is in my blood and that’s where I make it happen. Everything is in Nashville…my manager, the recording studios, my band members. Nashville is the heartland of country music. Everything important happens there. Nashville is where I need to work.”

  Annie withdraws her hands from mine and places them out of my reach in her lap. “What was your plan where I was concerned?” she asks. “Or did you ever have one past a quickie summer fling with an old flame?”

  The hurt is clearly visible in her eyes. The arrest and the press has shaken her up more than I realized. It’s almost as if our time together at Brasstown Point never happened at all.

  “The moment I saw you again, I started planning for us. I was hoping to ask you to come back with me when the time was right. After we’d had more time together.”

  “To Nashville?” she asks.

  “Yes, and on tour with me.” I smile at her in encouragement. “Think about all the fun we’d have. You always said you wanted to travel and see the world. We could do that together. Life would be great. Beyond our wildest dreams.”

  “How would that be possible?” she asks. “You’ve talked about how you don’t have a minute to yourself when on tour. Something tells me I would be spending all of my time completely alone. When I said I wanted to see the world, I didn’t mean watching the landscape flying past from a bus window.”

  “I can buy our own tour bus,” I offer. “We wouldn’t have to share it with the other band members. We’d have privacy and even a small kitchen for meals. It could be our own home on the road.”

  “What would that solve?” she asks. “Would that somehow create more time in your day? I have a life here, Levi. A life I’ve worked very hard to make. I can’t just throw it all away to chase you around the country. I can’t be your groupie.”

  “You wouldn’t need to work,” I try to explain. “I make plenty of money and I’d give you anything you want. In the off months when we’re not touring, you could keep busy furnishing my house in Nashville. Not my house, it would be our house. Change anything or everything, I don’t care. You would never have to work another day in your life. Think about all the fun things you could do with extra time.”

  Annie raises her eyebrows doubtfully at me.

  “Not to sound ungrateful, because I do appreciate your offer, but I’m beginning to realize something,” she says. “Either you don’t know me very well now, or you aren’t accepting the woman I’ve become in the years you’ve been gone.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask, confused. “You’re the same girl I fell in love with years ago. My feelings never changed.”

  “You’re not understanding that I want to work. I love to work. I don’t want money handed to me like a child’s allowance. I need to earn my own way. My job gives me a feeling of accomplishment. Not the same as perhaps your music does for you. You’re an artist who is creating something. But my work still has value. Both to me and my employer.”

  “Doesn’t it get a little boring, though?” I ask. “Standing behind a pharmacy counter all day long listening to customers complain about their aches and pains?”

  “I guess it might be to some people,” she says with a laugh. “I’ve grown to love my customers. If I can help them in some way, whether it’s calling their insurance company or even warning them about side effects, it makes me feel like my job is worthwhile. I couldn’t go on tour with you and keep my pharmacist position.”

  “You might love life on the road,” I argue. “How do you know if you don’t try it?”

  “Didn’t you say the novelty was already wearing off for you?” she asks. “Yet you’re trying to convince me to give up everything and join you.”

  “You’re right,” I say, unable to meet her eyes. “I did say that.”

  “Let’s fast forward a few years. What would be the plan down the road if we decided to have kids one day? Are we supposed to drag a baby around on a tour bus? How about a nine-year-old? What kind of life is that for a child?”

  She motions to the kitchen window where we can see Lily playing outside. She’s sitting in a homemade wooden swing hanging from a rope attached to an oak tree. Grasping the rope tightly, she squeals as Cole pushes her higher and higher.

  “Kids need space to play,” Annie says. “They don’t need photographers slinking around trying to take pictures of them. Look at how happy she is. The farm is a good place to raise a child. To have a life and a family.”

  When Annie returns her gaze to me, her eyes are filled with tears.

  “I can’t go to Nashville, and I’m sorry,” she says. “It wouldn’t work. We both know it.”

  “And I can’t stay,” I say, feeling defeated. “We’re back at the same spot we were seven long years ago. The same fucking spot. I can’t believe it.”

  “I won’t ask you to stay because that would mean destroying your dreams,” she says softly. “I would never do that to you.”

  “We can’t just give up on each other because of our careers.”

  “I think that’s a simplified statement,” she says. “It’s not just our careers. With me, it’s family, friends, a home, and a job I’d be giving up. Whereas you’d be giving up the one thing that lights you up from within. Music makes you who you are. It’s your passion.”

  I stand up from the table and walk over to her side. I pull her up so I can wrap my arms around her.

  “Are you saying we’re over?” I ask, a sick feeling of dread settling in my heart. “Because I don’t believe it. I refuse to believe it.”

  She turns her eyes up to mine and gives me a sad smile. “Will we ever truly be over?”

  “Never,” I say. “We just need more time. I’m sure we can work something out if we put our heads together and stay open to possibilities.”

  “I feel the same way, except the anxiety of knowing you’re leaving is tough to bear. I would be thinking about it constantly.”

  “Can we agree to at least not end things right this minute?” I urge. “I can’t let you walk out of my life when you just came back into it. Give me a little more time. Please. To figure things out. That’s all I’m asking right now. What’s the worst thing that could happen?” Annie hesitates, and I’m happy that she’s at least considering it. Indecision flickers across her face. “How about if we try doing a long-distance relationship at first when I go back to Nashville?”

  “You’re impossible to reach when you’re on tour,” she reminds me. “It took Cole several days to get in touch with you about Edward.”

  “That was all my fault. I was an asshole and I take full responsibility. I promise, it won’t be that way. I’ve learned my lesson. I’d make time for you, Annie. We can talk and text every day. On your weekends off, I’ll fly you to wherever I’m performing, or I’ll come back here.”

  “Is that what you want?” she asks, still unsure.

  “Not exactly, but it’s damn sure better than losing you completely. I’ll take anything I can get at this point. At least we should give it a try. Just don’t walk away from me no
w.”

  Annie turns away from me and moves over to the kitchen window.

  “I’m not sure if I can do this,” she says. “It would be hard seeing your face on tabloid magazine covers with a different blonde woman every week. I would try not to notice, but you’re everywhere I turn these days. There’s no way I could ignore the gossip about you.”

  I slip up behind her, push her hair aside, and nuzzle the back of her soft neck. “I would never cheat on you. You know me well enough to know that. If you see photos of me with other women, they’re just for publicity. If I wanted anyone else, I wouldn’t be doing this right now.”

  I turn her around to kiss her gently on the lips.

  “I know you wouldn’t cheat on me,” she says. “I would still miss you terribly. Every day I would be thinking about you and wishing we were together like normal people.”

  “We’ll never be normal folks, Annie. That ship sailed a long time ago. I can’t accept that we’re over because you haven’t given us a real chance. We’ve only had a couple of dates together and then everything went straight to hell. We need more time. I don’t know what else I can say to convince you. You’re shooting down anything I suggest without giving us a fair chance.”

  “I’ve thought about this nonstop since you walked back into my life,” she says. “Trying to figure out if there’s any way for us to make it work. One of us would have to make a huge sacrifice for the other. It’s the only way. Who knows? Maybe one day our paths will cross again, and the time will be right then.”

  “You mean years down the road when my career is over?” I say. “Or when we’re both old and gray? We’re not promised those years, Annie. Nobody is. Life doesn’t stop for anyone. My mom’s life was cut short by cancer. Take a good look at Dad. He didn’t have a clue Alzheimer’s was lurking in his brain even two years ago. We can’t bet on the future. All we have is this minute, right now.”

  “I don’t know what to do,” she says softly. “What do you want from me, Levi?”

  I reach out to cup the side of her face with both hands so I can gaze directly into her blue eyes.

  “One more summer. That’s all I’m asking. If I ever meant anything to you, give us that. That’s what I want.”

  Slowly she nods in agreement.

  “One more summer, Levi. Make it count.”

  38

  Annie

  Six weeks later in August…

  The long, lazy days of summer that we once took for granted have flown by in a hurry. Every day I rush home after work to cook dinner for Levi at my house or meet him at the farm to spend time with his family.

  We spend our evenings sitting in rocking chairs on the wide front porch with his dad, drinking cold lemonade and watching Lily chase lightning bugs in the yard. When the temperature cools down, we go for rides in the truck across the farm’s vast fields to check on the fences or to locate a missing cow.

  Sometimes Lily goes along too, sitting between us on the seat of the truck and giving us a running narrative of everything she sees.

  Life is easy and carefree.

  An exquisite, teasing taste of how our life could be if Levi stayed in Monroe.

  No matter how we spend the evenings, we almost always end up back at my house for the night. Thankfully the press has grown bored with us and they’re no longer parked in front. I usually fall asleep with my head nestled against Levi’s chest while he lies awake for hours, tossing and turning.

  He never tells me why he can’t sleep.

  I don’t know if it’s because he’s worrying about the future or if the music in his head won’t let him rest.

  By the time, I wake in the mornings, he’s already gone back to the farm to help Cole. Our lives have fallen into a happy, steady rhythm.

  Even so, I can’t forget the cruel fact that the summer I promised him is almost over. Any day now, I’ll lose Levi again.

  It’s on my mind all the time.

  Our time is winding down fast.

  Tonight, we’re breaking out of our regular routine for a rare night out.

  “I’ve been excited about this concert all week,” Levi says. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been a regular spectator at a country music concert instead of an act. I can’t believe how many people are here for this thing.” He waves a hand at the sea of cars in front of us trying to find a place to park at the Lee County Fairgrounds. “Look at all these cars piling in here.”

  We drive past the long line of vehicles parked in a dusty field at the fairgrounds until we find an empty spot. It was Levi’s idea to attend the concert being held tonight on the small outdoor stage.

  “We don’t get a lot in the way of entertainment here in Monroe,” I remind him. “If there’s something worth seeing, everyone turns out for it.”

  “That’s good,” Levi says. “I’m glad the town is supportive of music acts who are struggling to make it. I started on a small stage too. Well, I should take that back. It couldn’t be called a stage. It was nothing more than a microphone in a corner. The point is, I’m glad we’re here.”

  “Me too,” I reply.

  I’m glad to see Levi is looking forward to the evening. We’d made a silent pact not to bring up his inevitable return to Nashville. Instead we’re doing what we agreed upon that night in the farmhouse kitchen.

  We’re enjoying the summer and our precious time together.

  What little we have left.

  We both know there’s no point in ruining it by rehashing the same issues over and over again.

  “Do you think I can get away with not being recognized?” He checks out his reflection in the rearview mirror while sliding on a pair of dark sunglasses.

  “I don’t know,” I say doubtfully. “You’re not the type to fade into the crowd. You’re just too damn handsome and sexy not to be noticed. I could spot you in a crowd anywhere. You look just like Levi Hamby with sunglasses.”

  “Well damn!” he says. “That sucks. We need to do something because I’m not in the mood to be standing around signing autographs all night or taking selfies with fans. Got any ideas?”

  I raise my eyebrows at him. “Now you’re asking? While we’re sitting in the truck with the concert about to start? If you wanted a disguise, we should’ve thought about this earlier.”

  He’s wearing his normal outfit of blue jeans, white t-shirt, worn cowboy boots, and his famous cowboy hat. There’s no way he won’t be recognized.

  “There’s an old baseball cap in the truck somewhere,” he says. “I had it on the other day when I was helping Royce with the cows.”

  He reaches under the seat and pulls out a dirty green and white baseball cap with a local tractor company logo on it.

  “Which should I wear?” he asks, holding it out for me to see. “Baseball or cowboy hat?”

  “If you’re trying to blend in, go with the baseball cap,” I say. “The cowboy hat is too recognizable on you.” I lean over and mess up his hair with my fingers. “Now put it on.”

  He slips the baseball cap on backwards and pulls it down low. His hair is sticking out wildly from both sides.

  “Much better,” I say. “Now you’ll blend in with the local country boys.”

  “What about you?” he asks.

  “Nobody cares about me,” I say. “I’m never noticed in a crowd. I blend easily. Besides, most people expect to see me in my pharmacist lab coat, not the Daisy Duke way I’m dressed tonight.”

  For old times’ sake, Levi had convinced me to wear a pair of denim shorts and a red-and-white checked tank top tied at the waist. My long hair is loose, the way Levi prefers it. I’d searched through my closet until I found my old pair of cowboy boots to go with the outfit. They’re not the most comfortable things in the world, but at least they match.

  Levi reaches over and places his cowboy hat on my head. It’s too big and comes down low on my forehead.

  “You need a hat to make your outfit legit,” he says with a chuckle. “Now you’re just right. Let’s
go find a good seat before they’re all taken.”

  He lifts me out of the truck and takes my hand. We stroll into the packed outdoor concert area and make our way through the crowd. Most of the people standing around are already drinking beer out of cheap plastic cups.

  “So far, so good,” he says in relief when we find two empty seats. “I haven’t been recognized yet. I can’t remember the last time I was able to sit down and enjoy a show. I’m excited.”

  “You don’t watch the acts when you’re performing with other bands?” I ask. “Why not?”

  “There’s no time to sit and enjoy the music,” he says regretfully. “I wish I could. Before my performance, I’m always doing sound checks or worrying if my earpiece will work correctly. Afterwards, I’m always stressed out and going back over everything I screwed up in my mind.”

  “You need to have some fun too in your life,” I say, snuggling under his arm. “I’m glad you suggested doing this tonight.”

  “It’s a good change to be on the other side. To be reminded how it feels to be a fan. Sometimes it’s easy for me to forget why my fans are there or what they want to see and hear. My manager has control over the lineup of songs in my concerts. I’m always afraid of losing touch of what people want.”

  “Your fans want you to sing from your heart,” I say. “As long as you keep doing that, they’ll always be there. Give them what they want.”

  “That’s easier said than done,” he says. “The record label wants me to sing what sells, not necessarily what I want to record. If they had it their way, they’d probably turn me into a pop singer.”

  We both make faces at the awful thought.

  The seats around us quickly fill to capacity. It’s a hot night, with only a small breeze to keep the temperature bearable. The crowd doesn’t seem to care. Everyone is smiling and carefree, happy to be here.