Good Time Bad Boy

by Sonya Clark

  Wade launched into his favorite Parsons song, Return Of The Grievous Angel. The only thing better than the smile it brought to Daisy’s face was her asking to hear more. He played nearly a dozen songs before she became noticeably sleepy, and he realized what a long night it must have been for her. Rocky Top had been packed and here it was now long after midnight. He led her back to the truck and followed the directions she gave him to her place.

  Her eyes were heavy as she unlocked her door. “I’m not asking you in.”

  “I’m not expecting you to,” he said. “I just wanted to make sure you got inside safe and sound.” He paused. “And I wanted to do this.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek, resting his lips against her soft skin for a moment before breaking the contact.

  “Thank you for tonight,” she said. “I had a good time.”

  “Me too.” He touched her arm, just a quick, light caress. “Good night, Daisy.”

  “Good night, Wade.” She opened the door then stopped. “Hey.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I just. I like it that all those holy relic instruments are the constellations that guide you. That’s really nice.”

  Emotion clutched at his heart and clogged his throat. “That’s...that’s the most amazing thing anybody’s ever said to me.”

  “I’m so tired, I was afraid it wouldn’t make any sense.”

  “It makes sense to me.”

  “Good.” Daisy smiled and waved, then went inside the trailer.

  He listened for the sound of the door being locked before turning back to his truck. He sang more Gram Parsons to himself all the way home.

  Chapter 15

  Daisy worked on putting her groceries away while Megan sat in the breakfast nook going through a basket of nail polish. Megan said, “How often do you check these? I think I found one that’s turned into a solid.”

  It took Daisy a moment to realized what Megan said. “Throw it out.”

  Megan lifted a bottle in the air. “This color is hideous. Why did you buy this?”

  “Throw that one out, too.” She closed a cabinet harder than she meant to, the sound reverberating through her head.

  “Okay, I’ve put up with this long enough. What’s wrong?”

  Daisy wadded up the plastic grocery bags and stuffed them in another bag under the sink to use later as trash bags for the bathroom. “I went all week avoiding my mother. Quit listening to her voicemails after the third one. So of course she sicced Deanna on me. Bright and early this morning I get a call from Dee about how I’m hurting Momma’s feelings. How the way I treat her is a threat to her sobriety, because I’m not supportive enough. I tell her the shit on those voicemails and she just keeps going, like it’s my fucking fault our mother is like this.”

  “What was on the voicemails?”

  “I swear to God, that woman was nicer when she was a drunk.” Daisy pulled herself up to sit on the counter. “She just had to give me shit about that picture in the paper. First it was about what a sleazy reputation he has. Then it was about how some little nobody like me could never land a rich star like him. That he just wanted sex from me since that’s all men like him would ever think I’m good for.”

  “Jesus Christ. Where is all this coming from? You’re right, when she was drinking, she was never this mean. Irresponsible as hell, sometimes downright neglectful, but never mean.”

  Daisy snorted. “Sometimes neglectful? Shit. I don’t know if its sobriety or that church she joined. Whatever it is, I can’t stand being around her when she gets like this and I’m sick of her dumping it all on me. Dee doesn’t get shit like this dumped on her, no matter how many losers she dates. Donny’s a fucking pot dealer and she doesn’t say shit about that. I’m the one trying to make something better of myself, and I get the unending stream of the most judgmental shit you can imagine.”

  “I’m sorry she’s like this.”

  “And I’m always the bad guy. Every fucking time. Deanna makes excuses for her. Donny barely notices or even cares. I’m just expected to take it from her. Be the dutiful daughter and smile and nod and say, of course you’re right, Momma, no nice man could ever want to be with me.” Unshed tears clogged in her throat. She did her best to push the emotions back down but this was working up to be another Alice-inspired crying jag. God, she was so tired of that.

  “You know that’s not true,” Megan said. “Look, I’ve only met Wade a couple of times and Chris doesn’t exactly speak highly of him. But he seemed cool to me and you’re a good judge of character and if you like him, then─”

  “Am I a good judge of character? The only reason I’m not still dating losers like my sister is because one of them put me in the hospital. I haven’t dated anybody in two years because of that. Am I really judging Wade accurately or am I just so lonely that there’s things I’m missing?”

  “Getting to know him better is the only way to answer that.”

  “But you know, there’s no point. He’s staying for the summer, then he’ll be back on the road again.” Daisy laughed. “How the hell did I wind up crushing on a country music singer?”

  “I always thought Tim McGraw was pretty cute.”

  “Are we doing our nails or what?”

  Megan held up two bottles. “Flaming Passion or Wicked Nights?”

  The dark wine red of Wicked Nights reminded Daisy of Wade’s guitar. “Wicked Nights.”

  Megan packed the rest away. “You know, if you ever do have yourself a wicked night with the wayward country star, I’ll be expecting details.”

  “Wicked Nights With the Wayward Country Star. I think I’ve seen that book at Walmart.”

  “Graphic, shameful, slutty details.”

  Daisy dropped to the floor and crossed the short distance to the fridge. “Can you stay long enough for a beer or do I need to make it tea?”

  “Better make it tea just in case. I’m not supposed to pick Daddy up until two but you know how it goes. He gets agitated, they’ll be calling me.”

  Daisy poured two glasses of sweet tea while Megan carried the manicure supplies into the living room. They settled on the floor. Daisy reached for the sound dock on the end table, plugged in her phone, and queued a Lana Del Rey album. The sound quality was shitty but she didn’t care, she needed the music. “What does the doctor say about these spells?”

  Megan shrugged. “He won’t go. Says it’s not important enough to make an appointment, that he’ll just talk to the doctor when he goes for his annual.”

  That sounded like Mr. Hollister, stubborn as hell and not wanting to admit he might need help. “What do you think about that?”

  “I can’t force him. It’s a minor miracle he lets me do as much as I do.”

  “What do your brothers think?” Megan was the youngest of four siblings and the only girl.

  “That I’m exaggerating. That I should shut up and do my job as the dutiful daughter and take care of our daddy. And probably that they’re all really glad they’re not here to see him like this.” Megan’s face shuttered like a closing door, signaling an end to this line of conversation.

  Daisy raised her glass. “Here’s to dutiful daughters like us.” She forced a laugh, and it turned real out of a desperate bid not to cry.

  Megan picked up her own glass. “Damn straight.”

  ***

  An uncomfortable silence hung in the cab of the truck. Wade cursed their mother’s sneaky, interfering ways. Through a bunch of convoluted excuses, she’d contrived to have Wade drive Chris home from church. Chris didn’t seem any happier about it than Wade did. The younger man sat sullen and silent in the passenger seat. Wade glanced at him and thought ruefully of the last person who’d sat there.

  Chris noticed the look. “What?”

  “I was just thinking the last person to ride in the truck with me was a hell of a lot prettier than you.” Wade grinned.

  “So whose girlfriend are you stealing this time?”

  Fuck you, junior, Wade wanted to say but didn�
��t. “What’s the magic number?”

  “Huh?”

  “How many times do I have to apologize for that before you drop it?”

  Chris raised his hands in the air. “Eleventy billion. Sorry, I don’t believe in free passes for shitty behavior.”

  “I never asked you for a free pass. Shit, do you even pay attention in church or do you just go there to nap?”

  Chris snapped his head around to glare daggers at Wade. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means you’re a hard ass with comprehension problems. There’s such a thing as forgiveness, asshole. You should try it some time.”

  “Forgiveness is earned, dickweed. And for the record, there’s also such a thing as redemption. You should try that some time. And fuck you for trying to talk shit to me about going to church. Like you ever set foot in a church unless you’re forced.”

  “Bitch.”

  Chris made a face.

  Wade shrugged. “I didn’t think we’d cussed enough in our little conversation about church.”

  Chris leaned against the door, one hand covering the lower half of his face. His little punk ass might be too good to laugh, but Wade knew Chris thought the joke was funny.

  A few miles down the road Chris deigned to speak again. “So who’s the girl you’re seeing?”

  “I’m not really seeing her. We just went for a drive. Had a nice picnic.” Memories of the day smoothed the rough edges from his bad mood. Even better were the memories of their second date that wasn’t a date. “A little stargazing out at the lake.”

  “So who is it?”

  “She’s not anybody’s girlfriend or anything like that.”

  “Why don’t you want to tell me who you’re dating?”

  “We’re not dating. It was a picnic.”

  “Why don’t you want to tell me who you’re not dating then?”

  “Because you hate my guts and you’ll tell her bad things about me.”

  Chris nodded. “Well, yeah. But all the bad things I would tell her would be true.”

  “I can’t tell you how glad I am Momma arranged for us to have this time together,” Wade said. “Why the hell do you live on the other side of the county from them and the church? Hell, I’d’ve thought you’d be right next door.”

  “I like the house I bought. It may not be a vacation home on the lake, but it’s nice and it’s mine.”

  Wade grimaced. In addition to the usual brother shit between them, there had always been an undercurrent of jealousy from Chris. It made no sense to Wade. Yes, their mother was proud of Wade being a singer and songwriter, but their father was far happier with Chris and Hank. The younger Sheppard brothers lived lives of service and that was something their father respected far more than being a mere entertainer. Wade respected it, too. Years ago he’d done a USO tour and got to visit Hank in Afghanistan. That trip was one of Wade’s favorite things he’d been able to do because of his stardom.

  “I’m sure it’s a nice house.”

  “It’s only a few miles from where Daisy McNeil lives.”

  Wade gritted his teeth, then decided to let his brother have it. “You fucker, you knew all along.”

  Chris chuckled. “Small town life. You remember that, don’t you? People talk. Especially after that picture of the two of you in the paper. Y’all looked awful cozy.”

  “We are not dating,” Wade said emphatically.

  “But you’d like to?” Chris watched him with avid curiosity. “She’s too good for you, you know that, right?”

  A stab of jealousy pierced Wade. “What is it about you and her? Are you interested in her? Cut the bullshit and be honest with me.”

  Chris sighed. “No, I just know she’s been through a lot and she’s trying hard to make a better life for herself. She is too young for you, and that is no bullshit.”

  Wade pointed at the road that crossed the highway ahead. “Left or right?”

  “Left.”

  Wade rolled through the stop sign and turned left, practically daring his brother to write him a ticket.

  A cell phone buzzed. Chris reached into his pocket and answered it. Wade listened in but could make out very little of the conversation. Chris said, “Turn around, we need to go to Daisy’s.”

  Concern that was a little too close to panic seized Wade. “Is she okay?”

  “It’s not about her. Her best friend Megan is at her place this morning. Megan’s father walked out of church, stole a car and drove off.”

  “That...what?”

  “They said he was acting confused, like he didn’t know where he was or who any of the people there were.” Chris gripped the dash. “Drive faster. If something happens to her father, it’ll kill Megan.”

  Wade couldn’t miss the emotion in his brother’s voice. So that’s how it is, he thought. Not Daisy but her best friend. That’s how he knew so much about Daisy and why he had such a high opinion of her. Daisy hadn’t said anything about her friend dating his brother, though. If he was carrying a torch for the girl, not acting on his feelings for some reason...

  Unwanted sympathy for his youngest brother rose in Wade. He wished for a moment that he and Chris had the kind of relationship that would let Chris talk to him, but he was afraid that would never happen. Not after Wade had screwed up so badly, so many times. So he kept his mouth shut and drove since that’s all he could do for his brother right then.

  Chapter 16

  Daisy kept a careful eye out as Wade drove back roads below the speed limit. When the Sheppard brothers arrived with the news about Mr. Hollister, Megan had seized up into a wordless panic. Chris took her car keys and they left together to search. In the three hours since, there had been a handful of cell phone calls back and forth as the search became more coordinated. Wade was traveling a pre-determined route, as were several other volunteers and police. Everything unsaid about Mr. Hollister’s condition filled Daisy’s head, along with worry for her friend’s state of mind.

  She intermittently chewed on her thumb as she stared out the window. “Do you think they’ll charge him?”

  “For the car? No.” Wade turned down the radio. “Chris said the owner just wants him found safe.”

  “That’s good.”

  “That’s the thing about these little country churches. They may be all up in your business, but they’re good people.”

  Maybe that was her mother’s problem – she went to a church in town. “I’m glad it’s not winter. If he gets out of the car, at least the weather’s not dangerous right now.” Left unsaid were all the other things that could still be dangerous.

  “I didn’t realize until you told me that this was Mr. Hollister the English teacher. I didn’t make the connection.”

  “Did you have him in school?”

  “He was the first person I talked to about songwriting. I didn’t know who else to talk to. An English teacher seemed as good an idea as anybody, so I showed him the lyrics of some of the first songs I ever wrote.”

  “What did he say?”

  Wade laughed. “He was honest. I kept writing anyway.”

  Daisy glanced at her phone, held loosely in her lap, then returned her gaze out the window. “I almost failed his class but Megan talked him into letting me do extra credit. I had to write an essay on Hamlet.”

  “How’d that go?”

  “I compared him to Kurt Cobain. Got an A.”

  “Has he been diagnosed?”

  “I think they’ve both been avoiding that.” She paused at the sight of someone walking up a gravel road that led to a house far back from the road. As they got closer she could make out curly red hair. “Can’t keep doing that after this.”

  Wade’s phone rang and he slowed to a stop to answer it. “Yeah. Okay.” Visibly relieved, he nodded at Daisy. “He okay?” He listened for several minutes. Daisy tried to make out the other end of the conversation but couldn’t. “Does she need Daisy to come sit with her?”

  “Are they at home? What’s
going on?”

  He made a shushing motion. “Okay, I’ll tell her. Yeah. Thanks for letting us know.”

  “How is he?”

  “He seems okay physically but he was real agitated when they found him. The guy that found him was from his church but Mr. Hollister didn’t know him. I mean, didn’t remember him, Chris said he should have known him. He refused to tell the first officer on the scene his name and they’re not sure he could.”

  “Oh, God.”

  “He didn’t calm down until Megan got there.”

  “Did they let her take him home?”

  “Chris said she made the choice to take him to the hospital. He’s gonna be there at least overnight and his doctor’s going to start working on a diagnosis tomorrow.”

  Daisy pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes and tipped her head back against the seat. Wade put a hand on her shoulder and she wanted to lean into his touch. He said, “Chris is going to their house to pick up some things. I asked if she wanted you to come to the hospital but she said no. She needs to be in the room with her daddy to keep him calm.”

  “I guess you can take me home then.”

  They made the drive back to her place in silence, the air in the cab heavy with the sadness they both felt for the Hollisters. Once he parked Daisy hurried out of the truck, not sure if she should invite him in or not. She stood in the rough gravel driveway and stared at the rust on the trailer’s underpinning. There was no front porch, just a stack of cinder blocks that led to the door. She’d done her best with second hand lawn furniture to make a cozy spot in the yard, with a couple of chairs and a round table. The inside of the trailer looked better, if outdated. Normally it didn’t bother her. The kind of people who might pass judgment on her for living in a less than great rented trailer wouldn’t be knocking at her door anyway. She didn’t think Wade would judge her for how she lived, but having him here still made her self-conscious as hell.

  The truck door closed, the sound making her jump. Wade’s boots crunched across the gravel and he came to stand next to her. He pointed at the lawn chairs. “Mind if I sit a while?”

  “It’s hot,” she said. “Let’s go inside.” She walked toward the door.