by Sonya Clark
“I never know what to say to you. Guess this year’s no different.” A bead of wax dripped down the side of the candle and pooled on the glass holder.
Her mother Alice couldn’t be bothered to crawl out of a bottle long enough to help Daisy. Her sister Deanna had her own problems, including a child of her own and no reliable man in her life. Deanna at least had offered advice. Other friends did, too. How to apply for aid, mostly. WIC, TANF, EBT – an alphabet soup of programs available to help women like her. Single mothers. State insurance and shots at the Health Department instead of a doctor’s office. Daisy knew about all of it, though, even without her friends and her sister and their helpful tips.
She also knew she couldn’t keep so much as a plant alive. The thought of a baby terrified her. So she did the one thing that no one talked about, that horrified her mother and even gave her sister pause. Daisy found an adoption agency in Nashville.
Megan went with her, behind the wheel and fighting traffic so Daisy wouldn’t have to. Megan was there for the birth, too. She’d been the only one to support Daisy’s decision.
“So I was wondering what kind of music an eight year old likes. Taylor Swift? One Direction? I don’t know. Whatever you like, I hope you have a lot of it. I hope your iPod’s full.”
Daisy never doubted she did the right thing for the tiny girl with a fast-beating heart and strong legs. She didn’t know the names of the family who adopted her, but she knew the husband was a dentist and the wife was some sort of technical writer who planned to work from home after the baby was theirs. They lived in Tullahoma and Daisy always imagined it was a beautiful house with a big yard.
She drew the vase full of flowers close, resting her hands at the base. Her next words were addressed to the woman she thought of as her little girl’s real mother. “Thank you so much for giving her all the things I couldn’t. Thank you for being what I couldn’t be back then. Thank you for helping our girl break a really shitty family tradition.” Daisy laughed then clapped her hand over her mouth in horror.
Just because the truth hurt didn’t make it any less truthful.
All through Daisy’s childhood, Alice had bounced from man to man, job to job, one run-down house or trailer or apartment after another. Light bills went unpaid so she could have her cigarettes. Cavities went unfilled because she couldn’t remember to keep the appointments. Breakfast went unmade because she was too hung over. Sometimes dinner, too. She’d been married to Deanna’s father the longest, nearly five years. Her marriage to their brother Donny’s father lasted just under two years. She didn’t bother to marry Daisy’s father. Deanna had a teen daughter she raised alone. Donny had a couple of kids by two different women and couldn’t hold down a job.
And Daisy had been a fucking mess at seventeen and eighteen. The only smart thing she did back then was find that adoption agency and go through with it. She was a different person now, though. A hell of a lot more grown up. She’d made peace with her decision a long time ago, but she still liked to mark her child’s birthday with good wishes and gratitude.
“I have this image of you in my head, the both of you. Doing something special together today. I hope that it’s a perfect day for you both.”
This was the closest Daisy got to prayer anymore. She closed her eyes briefly, picturing a smiling, happy mother and child, then blew out the candle. She sat in the dark for a while, her hands folded in her lap and thinking of nothing and everything.
***
After a bad moment of not being able to remember the alarm code, Wade finally made it into his house. The place had a musty smell from being closed up for too long. He brought his bags and his guitar inside. The first order of business was getting the curtains open. Light streamed through the windows and lifted the gloom immediately. He stood at the bay window in the living room for several minutes, taking in the view. The house was far from a mansion and he liked that just fine. It had three bedrooms, a decent kitchen, one full bath upstairs as part of the master suite and a half bath downstairs. The living room was large and roomy and the bay windows looked out over a beautiful view of Kentucky Lake.
That view was why he’d bought the house. Wade grew up fishing and swimming and boating in that lake. Every summer he and his brothers went to the lake as often as possible. In the winters, they’d duck hunt on the shores and deer hunt in the surrounding forests. At the height of his fame, when he’d realized he had enough money for a vacation home, Kentucky Lake was the only place he considered. The house was situated on a hill a few miles from the highway that led to Brittain, a fifteen minute drive away. The property was surrounded by trees, giving it an air of seclusion at the front and sides. To the right of the living room and its spectacular view was a deck that sat partly over the garage and just outside the kitchen. No telling how much time he’d spent out on that deck, playing his guitar and watching the light reflect off the water. He’d be doing that again soon, and the thought of it almost made him glad to be home.
Then he thought of how long he’d be here and his enthusiasm waned. He’d give Becky a week, maybe two, before he started hounding her for work.
In the meantime he had plenty to do in the house. He stepped away from the view with reluctance and started gathering up the white sheets that covered the furnishings. Dust thickened the musty air further. He wadded up several of the sheets, carried them to the laundry room and dumped them in an empty basket. Leaving the windows open for a while would air the place out, and he turned on ceiling fans as he went from room to room. When he saw his mother, he’d ask if she knew of anyone who cleaned houses. Some groceries, a new fishing rod, and he’d be all set.
A noise came from the living room right as Wade turned the corner. A dark blur of a man standing in a patch of floor too far from the sunlight moved toward him, arm raised and a gun in his hand. For a half second Wade felt the beginnings of panic, then he recognized the intruder and the panic turned to annoyance.
Wade said, “You gonna arrest me in my own home?”
His youngest brother, Deputy Chris Sheppard, scowled as he returned the gun to its holster. “The alarm company called, said there was a possible break-in.”
“My truck’s parked right outside, moron. How did you miss the thing?”
Chris raised a hand. “That’s not the same truck you had last time.”
“It damn well is. I’ve had it for years. You’ve driven it.” Wade shook his head. The fact that his idiot brother had managed to become a deputy did not give him faith in local law enforcement.
“Well, why didn’t you call Mom or somebody and let us know you were here? Or were you planning on just passing through on your way to Nashville and not seeing us?”
Wade flinched. He’d done that very thing too many times in the past, in his worst days. He softened his tone and said, “I just got here ten, maybe twenty minutes ago. I was going to drop my stuff off and be waiting at the house when Mom got home from work.”
Chris rested his hands on his utility belt and looked around the living room. “So how long you back for?”
“Not long.” Wade was damned if he was going to tell Chris about getting fired from the casino gig. “Just taking a little break.”
“I’m sure everyone will be super excited to have Brittain’s biggest star back in town.”
“Your ass is showing, and so is your jealousy.”
“I for one am so glad to have you home.”
“Can we not do this? For once, can we try to get along?” Wade knew the answer to that but he had to ask anyway.
“Sure, why not?” Chris shrugged. “I’m not dating anybody right now, so it’s not like I’ve got a girlfriend for you to steal.”
Wade stood stone-faced and let the old guilt hit him like he knew he deserved. During the worst of his drinking and partying days, after the divorce, he’d come home for the holidays one year. Chris had been dating a girl from a neighboring town and according to their mother, was starting to feel pretty serious about her.
She didn’t feel the same, though, and Wade had been doing his best in those days not to feel anything. Chris caught them in her apartment. It hadn’t been pretty. The brothers had never gotten along well but after that, Chris hated him. Not that Wade could blame him – he’d done a terrible thing and hated himself for it for a long time. He’d tried apologizing a few times since but Chris wasn’t interested in forgiveness.
Wade let the silence hang between them for another minute before speaking. “How’s Mom and Daddy? I call her but I know she doesn’t tell me everything.”
“Why should she? We all know just how much you care about family.”
This particular merry-go-round with Chris had gotten old years ago. “Okay, we’re done. You’re on duty and I’ve got things to do.”
Chris shook his head. “Still such an arrogant prick, think you have the right to just dismiss me like that.”
“You dismissed me a long time ago, Chris. Let’s just do our thing where we play nice in front of Mom and Daddy, and stay the hell away from each other otherwise.”
“Sounds good to me.” Chris headed for the door. “Try not to trip your own alarm again, moron.”
As the door slammed, tension bled out of Wade’s body. Why the hell could he never say the right thing to Chris? Even when he tried, the words got tangled up in all their ugly history and came out a mile away from what he meant.
Coming back to this house, back to his hometown, was starting to feel like a mistake. What did he have here, other than the house itself? His youngest brother couldn’t stand him, with good reason. Their middle brother Hank was stationed on the other side of the planet right now. Mom loved him, of course, and would be glad to see him. But Chris was the one who lived in town, the one she saw all the time. He was her favorite too, whether she liked to admit it or not. Wade may have once been a star to everyone else, but he was just the family screw-up now. The only person who’d point that out faster than Chris was their daddy.
Wade found himself wandering through the house, pulling more sheets off the furnishings and opening curtains. The second largest bedroom was supposed to be a home office but it meant much more than that to him. His platinum and gold album plaques were arranged on one wall. Shelves held various awards: ACMs, CMAs, his two Entertainer of the Year trophies, the Grammy he won for Best Country Album. That was for Empty Rooms, of course. He ran a finger over the miniature morning glory horn then the tiny plaque engraved with his name.
From the time he was old enough to know what a Grammy was, he’d dreamed of winning one. The night it finally happened, he’d been so numb on stage that he’d barely been able to speak to accept the award. Losing what he’d loved most brought him that Grammy. How could he be proud of it? He’d never been able to associate anything good with it. Even after all this time, it felt like something he’d paid for with blood money.
Shit. Home for less than an hour and he was already so fucking depressed he wanted to crawl into a hole. For the second time that day, no less. Things had to start looking up soon. Surely someone in Brittain would be glad to see him. And besides, he had to find some food. Suddenly supper with the family didn’t seem all that appealing.
He found his hat and ran out the door. No matter how bad things ever got, he was always welcome at the little joint where he’d gotten his start. Twenty minutes later he parked his truck half a block down from Rocky Top Bar and Grill. A new orange neon sign glowed in the diminishing light. Wade was shocked to see that the adjoining business, at various times an arcade, a tailor, and a pet groomer, had been taken over by the bar. Old man Randy Tucker must have been doing a booming business. Through the floor to ceiling windows it looked like a decent crowd for a Monday night.
Wade stepped through the door and was immediately assailed by memories. Good memories. His first paying gig as a performer was in this bar. He’d played Friday and Saturday nights for over two years, starting out when he was too young to buy a beer. This was where he’d first learned how to get a bored crowd to listen to him play, how to get a rowdy crowd to calm down. Where he’d learned how to set up his own equipment, play alone or with a band. He’d played to just three people once, on the night of a high school football away game. He’d played to a crowd that barely fit in the space. He played an original song for the first time on the tiny corner stage, earning him a smattering of applause and the phone number of a pretty girl from the nearby college town.
The wall between Rocky Top and what used to be the business next door had been torn down. It opened into a large dining area half full of people. A two-foot section of brick remained behind the cash register, decorated with framed pictures of Wade at the bar’s tiny corner stage all those years ago. Wade stared at the images, the faint stirrings of something that might have been pride welling in his gut. It had been so long since he’d been proud of himself and anything he’d done, he wasn’t sure. Whatever it was, it was a good feeling, warm and golden, and he wanted to hold on to it.
Someone called out his name. Wade looked up to see a familiar face smiling in welcome. It was Jeff Travers, a buddy from high school who’d married Wade’s cousin Jillian. Wearing a suit and tie but still bearing the charming grin that first got Jillian to notice him, Jeff was seated at a big table full of other middle-aged men in suits and ties. Jillian and the kids were nowhere in sight, so Wade figured Jeff must be dining out with colleagues from the law office where he worked.
When Jeff waved him over, Wade didn’t hesitate. Jeff rose from his seat as Wade approached the table. “Hey, buddy. I haven’t seen you in forever. When did you get back in town?”
They shook hands. “Got back today. There’s not a single cold beer in the house so I had to go hunt one up.”
A tall, curvy blond brought platters of food to Jeff’s table. She wore a short black skirt that showed off miles of shapely legs and a fitted black t-shirt with the bar’s logo emblazoned on the front and stretched tight across full breasts. Her hazel eyes flashed a warning that spelled out trouble and her full mouth was an invitation to sin.
She hadn’t even noticed Wade yet. He tried to tell himself that was for the best as he struggled to carry on a conversation with Jeff. She burned a quick path around the table, placing meals in front of diners and chatting them up in a friendly, if somewhat distracted manner.
Jeff said something about Wade joining them for dinner then flagged down the waitress. “Hey Daisy, this is Jillian’s cousin Wade. He’s gonna be joining us. Can you get him a drink?”
“Sure thing.” She looked at Wade. “What’ll you have?”
Jeff said, “Have you been back since we passed liquor by the drink? You can get mixed drinks now.”
The long drink of trouble named Daisy looked Wade up and down. “You look like a whiskey and soda kind of man. I’ll start you off with that.”
He met her appraisal with his own, letting his gaze sweep her from head to foot and back. “All right. You gonna bring me a menu or make that decision for me, too?” He liked what he saw. He needed to stay far, far away from her, but damn, it sure was nice to look.
She tapped a pen on her order pad. “Steak, medium well. Baked potato with all the fixings. Fried okra. A biscuit.” She waved the pen. “The cornbread didn’t turn out so great tonight. And a slice of strawberry pie for dessert. How’s that sound?”
Wide grinned. “That sounds perfect.”
Daisy nodded. “I’ll be right back with your drink.”
Wade watched her walk away, enjoying the sway of her hips and the way that short skirt hugged her upper thighs. “Damn.”
“Mmm.” Jeff hummed in agreement. “She’s twenty-six.”
Wade flinched. “Damn.” Fifteen years younger than his forty-one. When did twenty-six start to seem so young to him?
Jeff clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to everybody.”
“They all lawyers like you?” The waitress disappeared into the kitchen and Wade glanced behind him at the table.
“They are all lawyers,” Jeff said. “None of them are like me. But they’re okay.” He grinned. “Come on, you’ll like ‘em. Unless you need to be at your folks for dinner?”
“Shiiit.” Wade laughed.
Jeff led him to the table and started making introductions. Wade spoke to the lawyers while keeping one eye out for Daisy. Surely there was no harm in looking as long as he didn’t touch.
She was too young. He’d hooked up with too many waitresses and bartenders and blackjack dealers. Worst of all, she lived in his hometown and worked in the very bar where he got his start. That luscious body and the bold challenge in her eyes had definitely sparked his interest, but all those other things marked her as off limits. He may have been an idiot, but he wasn’t that dumb.
Chapter 5
Daisy stepped up to the bar and gave drink orders to Ronisha. “Who’s the cowboy?” Ronisha jerked her head in the direction of the secondary dining room.
Daisy blanked for a moment. “Uh. Jeff said he’s Jillian’s cousin. Wayne, I think. I don’t know.”
“He’s pretty hot for an older guy.”
Daisy stopped thinking about her college problems and the day’s anniversary long enough to call up an image of the man’s face. “Yeah, actually, really hot for an older guy. But he looked like trouble.”
Ronisha pushed three drinks across the bar. “Restraining order trouble?” Her smoky topaz eyes twinkled and a grin spread across her dark brown face. “Or the fun kind of trouble?”
Plenty of experience with both made Daisy confident in her estimation. “The fun kind. The kind you wouldn’t kick out of bed for eating crackers, but you know he’s not gonna remember your name in a month.”
Ronisha laughed. “Nothing wrong with that as long as you forget his name, too.”
Daisy put the drinks on a tray. “I make it a habit to stay away from the good time bad boys these days.”