by Becky Wicks
'Dad!' I splutter.
'I wasn't going to come,' he says quickly, in my ear. He nods to a seat I guess he just vacated on the end of a nearby row. 'But I'm glad I did.' He motions me outside, through the doors to where several people with walkie-talkies and staff are waiting for the onslaught of teens looking for merchandise. I'm too shocked to speak.
'That song,' he says, swallowing as we come to a stop by a life-sized poster of Noah Lockton. 'They loved it. They loved you.'
'Thanks,' I say as I realize he just watched me sing about Micah. He knows now how I've felt, how long I've been wondering about him. How I never stopped wondering. I swipe at my face as he does the same. His face looks pale and thinner still in the bright lights.
'And the one you sold to those kids, Stars,' he says. 'I liked that one too. It's an interesting concept, the thought that everything happens for a reason. It's crossed my mind that maybe...' he stops abruptly, and I know his voice is about to crack. I reach for his arm but he pulls it away, puts his hands in his jeans pockets the way he always does. 'Maybe this happened to me because of everything I've done. Maybe I shouldn't have been so hard on you and Micah. God has plans, Conor, but maybe not the ones I always assumed he had.'
'Dad,' I say, hearing my own voice start to crack. 'This isn't because of anything you've done.' He straightens up, puts up a hand in front of me and I know this must be difficult for him to contemplate, let alone say.
'I know we're all asking a lot of questions right now, Conor. Dying will do that to you.' He smiles wanly. 'But Fret is still yours. If I... go... before you find Micah, I'm leaving it for both of you. And son, I really do hope you can forgive me.'
'Dad,' I say again, taking his arm and leading him towards the backstage door. I just heard Noah closing his final song in the set and now I can hear the throng of fans chattering and shrieking, making their way towards us like a barrage. 'Come and meet Stephanie, properly this time,' I say, flashing my media pass at the security guy and escaping with him through the doors.
He follows me tentatively as I follow a runner towards her dressing room. She answers as soon as I knock and her eyes grow round as saucers when she sees my father. 'He doesn't want to yell at you,' I say quickly, heading inside. She says nothing, steps backwards to the couch and sits on it.
'You were... very good,' my father says. I smile. That's his way of saying she was amazing. 'I'm sorry for everything I said to you. I had no right. I can see now how good you are for my son. I can see I'm the one who's been a bad Christian.'
'It's OK,' Stephanie says, summoning up her strength. Her eyes have filled with tears. I hold a hand out to her and she lets me pull her back to her feet. I take her in fully this time, how goddam incredible she looks in her dress, in her element. 'Thank you for coming,' she says graciously to my father and he nods slowly, looks at the floor, looking a little awkward as I put my arm around her and press a kiss to the side of her head.
'I'll leave you to it,' he says. 'I'll see you at Fret.'
'You want me at Fret now?' I say, raising my eyebrows.
'If you like,' he says simply. The stubborn ass. We watch as he walks back outside, closing the door behind him.
'Did that just happen?' Stephanie asks me. I pull her harder to me in an instant, into my arms.
'Did any of that just happen?' I say. 'Where's Travis?'
'With Denzel,' she answers, pulling back from me quickly. I remember she's pissed. She's taken the boots off. I spot the champagne glasses on the table, one of them with bright red lipstick on the rim. 'Why didn't you tell me when you found out Travis stole your songbook?' she says, folding her arms in front of me. I go to speak but she's already talking. 'I can't believe you didn't tell me! Conor, I wish you'd told me when we were in New York! What were you thinking?'
'I'm sorry, I screwed up.'
'I know you were trying to help me, so I can help my family,' she says, 'but I love you! None of this should come at your expense, Conor! Is that what you thought I would have wanted?'
'No,' I say. 'I just know how much you want to save your house.'
She sighs heavily.
'Don't be mad at me, Jackson. I know you, and I know you wouldn't have gotten up there if you knew what he did.'
'I know you know me... but I still would've liked to make my own mind up, Conor!'
'I'm sorry,' I say again. 'I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you!'
I watch the smile creep slowly back into her eyes. She does her best not to let it reach her glossy mouth. I step forwards, put my hands on her waist and this time she doesn't pull away. 'I love you, I love you, I love you...'
'OK stop, idiot,' she says. Then she smiles. A total ray of sunshine. 'Everyone's talking about your song,' she says, looping her arms around me, finally. Relief floods over me as I kiss her nose and forehead but she can't stop talking now. 'I knew they would. I knew you'd sing it better, that's why I made Travis introduce you. Denzel's talking to HotFlush, making sure we don't win this show.'
'Really?'
'He's pissed at Travis...'
'I'm not surprised!'
'But he admitted he didn't want any bad publicity for the label, so he's keeping it quiet. Lucky for him. Plus a million people want more of our songs. Mel's offered an advance, a bigger one, so I can pay the bank right now...'
'Wait, you're kidding me. This all just happened, while Noah was singing?'
'Singing our song, don't forget. Things happen fast in this business.'
I can't keep the grin from my face. 'So we get to be Jackson and Judge?'
'Jackson and Judge,' she says, cupping my face, then running her thumbs over my lips. 'Behind the scenes, though. I've only known fame for five minutes and this is not what I want at all, Conor. I'm from Homewood, Alabama!'
'Yes, you are,' I say, stroking my hands down her side now. Her dress is driving me crazy.
'I just want to write and sing and I don't care if I don't fill the Ryman on a worldwide tour - once was plenty.'
'You were amazing up there,' I tell her. 'And sexy as hell!'
'So were you,' she smiles, batting her eyelashes on purpose.
'And I'm glad once was plenty,' I say, 'cause it's clearly bad for your face. You have way too much make up on right now. I can't even tell what color you really are.'
She pretends to punch my chest with her fists but I pull her in again and press my mouth to hers and we kiss like we always kiss in the end; like the world's about to end and there's nothing else we want to do with our final moments. I'll have to remember that... for a lyric.
I ease her backwards with me, to the door. Then I lock it. Stephanie grins as I pull my shirt over my head. Then she lets me unzip her dress. 'Seeing as this is a once-off, miss Jackson,' I say, sliding the soft fabric slowly over her shoulders, down her arms and to the floor, 'I really think we should make the most of this couch.'
27.
Stephanie
One week later
'Great job, Alabama,' Indie Pete grins, slipping Tal and I our free beers from his place at the other side of the bar. Tal leans over, plants a kiss on his cheek, then we squeeze our way to where E-beth is sitting in front of the makeshift stage. The Nice Rack is busier than I've ever seen it. It was the least I could do for Gretchen before I leave to work full time on the song writing.
'Sean's coming to England with me,' E-beth announces as we hit the front and I watch Conor tuning up his twelve-string acoustic for our set. He's wearing a white T-shirt and I can't stop looking in appreciation at his impressive forearms as he twiddles with the strings, then lifts the chairs around to make room for our show. He catches me watching and winks. My heart jumps ten feet high. He's doing this for me, I know, and I love him even more for it.
'You're actually going?' Tal asks E-beth now, handing her a beer. 'What's in England?'
'I don't know, that's the point,' she says. 'Anyway, the quest didn't work out and Denzel stopped answering my calls, the swine. Have to
just go straight to the source, it's the only way. The great, great, super great Britain, baby!' She looks elated as she leans across her friend Sean, the cute guy she's brought with her. 'I have my novel all planned and don't worry, I'll change your names,' she continues. 'Sean has family there we can stay with for a bit, in London!'
I notice Sean's smiling at her the whole time she's talking. I wonder how they know each other. She's mentioned him before but this is the first time I've met him. 'I was planning on going to help my cousin set up a restaurant,' he says now. He's really cute.
'Sean's a chef,' E-beth adds, proudly.
'Always good,' I say, and I'm about to ask more about which parts of her novel I might have to be worried about when my eyes fall on the door and the piano being wheeled through it. Conor looks up in surprise.
'Jackson, what the...'
'I need it,' I tell him, just as he's accosted by Lou and her new girlfriend. Perfect timing. I hurry away to where Pete is now directing the huge piano into the far corner. 'Thanks,' I tell him.
'She's a beauty,' he says as I smile and run my fingers over it. It's so strange how I stayed away so long, but now, the more I play the piano, any piano, the more I really do feel my parents around me. I know they're here.
Everyone's here tonight. Well, everyone except Conor's mom and dad. His dad's been getting weaker. He's pretty much let Conor take over all his shifts again. While Conor's been back and forth between Fret and his house, I've been practicing something of my own in the sun room at home, with Tal. It's something I don't think I'm going to sell to anyone else.
'Great turn out, Alabama, you went and got yourself famous after all,' Gretchen beams, bustling up to me. She looks frazzled but happy and I don't miss the shine in her eyes as she squeezes my arm. 'Your boy always believed in you, and I'll admit, you always had that look in your eye,' she says. I don't know what look in my eye she means, but I'm happy there was one. This last week has been a blur.
'Noah Lockton helped,' I say quickly, but she puts a finger to her lips.
'Noah Lockton's not here,' she says, gesturing around. 'This is all you.'
My heart jams in my throat for a second as yet more people pile through the door. We might not have won the competition, but word on the Nashville street is that Jackson and Judge are hot property. Stars shot to number one and Noah Lockton wants to personally work with us on his next album. We're booked for a song writing camp in three week's time, too, which basically means we get to spend the day with some of the world's top writers and jam in the hopes of writing more hits. Sometimes I have to pinch myself to check if this is all real.
'Are you ready?' Conor says now, looping an arm around my waist. Gretchen smiles and bustles off to take more orders and a hush falls over the restaurant as we head to the set up and take our places with our guitars. I pull the Fret pick from my jeans pocket. It seems like yesterday Conor gave me the stash, the very first time I worked up the nerve to go talk to him. But it also feels like forever ago.
'Thank you, Nashville!' I say, watching familiar and unfamiliar faces spilling out of the booths and sitting at the bar, and squeezing between every other chair they can find. 'It's a special night tonight, not only in honor of the best ribs in Tennessee but to the people who've been so supportive since we...'
'Hooked up and made sweet, sweet lurrrrve!' Lou cuts in, before whistling. She and her girlfriend have been drinking cocktails all night, and definitely not the healthy kind. Everyone laughs and I feel my cheeks flame, but screw it. She's right.
'Whatever inspires us, hey?' Conor cuts in, flashing his stellar grin around the room and making everyone laugh even more. He doesn't think so but he's so much better at this than me. 'So, Jackson, how bout we start with something a little shiny? You down for that?'
I take his cue and launch right in to the song that just last week made the Ryman explode with screams. Suddenly, it's just me and Conor and I'm flashing right back to when I first sang the song at Pete's, by the fire. I saw the amazement in Conor's eyes then when he looked at me, and it never went away.
You said
A star only shoots when it’s ready to die
And it’s hard to believe we can lie here
And watch all their suicides light up the sky
But the ones that still sparkle
Are holding on tight
And we take them for granted
When day turns to night
But you said
There’s a time when we all have to learn
How to shine...
I can see people singing along and tapping their feet, like they know our tunes. It's crazy. Denzel said we would've won the competition if they hadn't rigged it against us in the end. They announce the winners in a month but a duo from Idaho is tipped to win now; two sisters who worked at Walmart before they "got their shot." They're pretty big on Twitter, so Denzel's still happy.
So we’ll shine as we breathe and we’ll shine as we break
And we’ll shine
Shine
Shine
And the world needs our light
So we all have to fight
Till we shine...
Now that my house is safe; now that I can probably afford another place of my own too, here in Nashville, where Bob Barker can finally retire from chasing cockroaches round the kitchen, I don't need fame. I don't need everyone knowing everything about me. I'm so done with that.
Conor picks his tune over mine and leans in for a kiss as we wrap it up. I grin against his lips. 'Such a show off,' I whisper.
'I'm learning from the best,' Conor says, poking his tongue out.
As he steps away again I notice a little boy, no more than four, pushing his way to the front. He promptly sits on the floor right in front of us as we launch into Unprepared, starts tapping his little boots in time to our music. He has wild, curly hair that kind of reminds me of Conor's. I smile to myself, but when Conor strikes a wrong chord, then stops playing altogether, I realize he's staring at a guy who's pushed his way up to collect the kid.
'Micah?'
Micah?
People turn to stare, start whispering. My heart leaps like a frog. I take the mic. 'Let's take a break ya'll, Pete over there has the beers, let's go, we'll be back in a sec!'
I hurry to put my guitar down, watch as the restaurant turns into a flurry of people ordering more drinks and talking, but Conor's already pushing his way through the row of chairs to the guy with the kid. He throws his arms around him and I watch as they hug each other tightly. Micah.
They found him.
There's a woman with them, too. She picks up the kid and when I approach she leans in to kiss my cheek. 'You're incredible, both of you,' she gushes, 'better than you were at the Ryman. I can't believe how good you are! I'm Jeanne.'
The name rings a bell instantly. 'They found us,' Conor tells me, incredulous. There are tears in his eyes and he looks like he's seen a ghost. 'Stephanie, this is my brother.'
'We saw you on the TV,' Jeanne says. She's pretty - brown hair, smiling eyes and Micah is a slightly older, skinnier version of Conor. His hair is cropped close to his head. He has his hand firmly on Conor's shoulder. 'My friend at the school I used to work at saw the talent show,' Jeanne says. 'She called me, said she recognized you, Conor. She said you came into Lowrance asking about Micah.'
'I've been trying to find you,' Conor tells her, ruffling the kid's hair now.
'I'm so sorry, man, I told mom not to tell you,' Micah replies with shining eyes the same color as Conor's. 'I was so sure he would make your life a misery if you came looking for me. But then when we turned the TV on, and I saw you on that stage, at the Ryman...'
'He figured you wouldn't have been up there if something hadn't changed,' Jeanne cuts in. 'Your father wouldn't have let you leave Fret long enough to do something like that.'
'Is she right?' Micah asks now and I watch Conor's face twist suddenly. Micah doesn't know how sick his dad is. He doesn't know anything
.
'We have a lot to talk about,' Conor tells him. 'But first you need to introduce me to this little guy.' He turns his attention back to the kid, who's wrapped around Jeanne's neck, banging two pieces of Lego together.
'Rory,' Micah says to him, lifting him down to the floor again. He clings to his leg immediately. 'Say hi to your uncle Conor. He's a guitar player, like you.'
The kid looks up and grins and I swear, he looks just like the two of them morphed together and thrown back in time. I reach for Conor's hand and he pulls me close.
'Jackson and Judge,' Micah says, nudging Conor's shoulder now. 'Gotta say, I'm impressed.'
'I'm so glad you're here,' I say now.
I leave them to talk, make my way back to Pete and Tal. My heart is almost exploding.
'Who are they?' Tal asks and when I tell her she almost chokes on her beer. Maybe now Conor can get the chance to help his family, the way I got the chance to help mine. Neither one is perfect but I know one thing for sure; I plan on spending every single day making sure me and Conor are a little more perfect than the last. He might say I attracted all this, the power of positive thinking and all that, and maybe that's true, but fate played a part. I was led here for a reason. We had to fix each other... the little bits that were broken.
'Stephanie?' A voice behind us makes me spin around.
'Travis,' I say in shock. He holds his hands up anyway, winces slightly. Anger makes me curl my fists suddenly, then I get a grip and control it. He's not about to ruin any more of my great moments. 'What are you doing here?'
He looks sheepish, unsurprisingly. No one knows what he did but me and Conor, and Denzel of course. Travis Flynn's reputation is at the mercy of Denzel's big mouth, which isn't exactly an enviable situation to be in for anyone.
'I wanted to tell you how happy I am for you,' he says, standing taller. His eyes dart to Conor and I can tell he's nervous. He's not wearing his cowboy hat for once. In fact, he looks totally different; almost like the showman he was hiding behind has vanished. I chew on my lip. 'I'm so sorry, Stephanie,' he says quickly. 'I don't deserve what you did for me, any of it, but listen, I've been thinking, I want to work for Conor's foundation.'