Good Time Bad Boy

by Sonya Clark

  Lost in a sea of false stars

  Empty light and a road that never ends.

  I forgot who I was

  Or maybe I never knew to begin with.

  Endless night and a desert sky

  Was the only map I had to find my way home.

  The constellations whirled above

  Their names unknown to me.

  I found my own stars to guide me back.

  Traced the shapes of my holy relics in the night sky

  Guitars, mandolins, banjos

  Acoustic, electric, strings and pickups.

  Names like a mantra

  Carter and Gibson

  Cash and Martin

  And my own Hummingbird that let me fly free.

  Jewels more precious than any crown.

  The voice of mothers and kings

  And kids who only know how to dream.

  I traced the shape of a guitar in the desert night sky.

  It pointed like an arrow back to the boy I used to be.

  I followed it without thinking

  And found the man I am now.

  Flying free on the wings of a hummingbird.

  Wade brought the song back to the beginning, only this time the notes told of an approaching dawn. Lighter, as if a weight had been released somewhere between one stanza and the next. Brighter, as if a sense of peace made the night sky’s darkness into a friend instead of something to be scared of. Afraid of the response, Wade stared at his hands for a moment before lifting his gaze to the audience.

  Not everybody got it. There were people who looked bored by the slower tempo, and that didn’t feel great. But the ones who did find something in the song that spoke to them - the looks on their faces more than made up for the fact that he hadn’t drawn in the whole room. Those folks would take this song home with them and turn it over in the minds and their hearts, and keep a piece of it for themselves for a long time. There could be no better outcome to sharing a part of his soul in a song like this. Pride filled him, and satisfaction. This was what it was all about, this moment right here. He’d started writing songs to express himself, to figure things out and learn to understand not only what was in his own heart but the hearts of others as well. But sharing those songs, singing them for other people, that was born of a desire - a need - for connection. Recognition. Communion. He saw all of those things in the shining eyes that glowed at him with warmth, the smiles and nods and the expressions that said yes, yes, I’m right there with you.

  He did his best to mumble thanks into the microphone and retreated from the stage, riding high on the feeling but knowing it was fragile. He headed out the front door for some fresh air, wishing Daisy was working tonight. He would have liked for her to have been there for what just happened. They had plans to meet at his house later, after his last set. The temptation to call and talk to her was too much. His cell phone was in his truck so he started for the side parking lot, turning on his heel suddenly. He almost collided with a woman coming out of the bar.

  It was Becky Walker. His manager wrapped him in a hug that left him speechless. They’d been friends for years but Becky Walker was no hugger. The only other time she’d embraced him was the first time he played Empty Rooms for her. Wade blinked away an uneasy sensation of deja vu and found his voice. “What are you doing here, Becky? You should have told me you were coming, I would made sure you had the best table in the house.”

  She pushed him away as if suddenly remembering she was his manager and not his mother. “I’ve seen the videos. Heard the way people are talking about them. But I had to see it for myself.”

  “See what?”

  “You. I had to see you.”

  He didn’t know what to make of that, so he rubbed his whiskers and made a joke out of it. “You drove two hours to check out this beard?”

  Becky swatted at him. “No, you idiot. I drove two hours to see for myself if you’re as good as those videos make you look. And God help me, you’re better. You look and sound amazing and the new material...good Lord, I don’t know if I can sell it to country radio, but it’s so damned good I don’t even care.”

  The mention of selling and country radio alarmed him. “Hold on.”

  “You’ve been holding out on me, Wade Sheppard, and that stops now. We need to have a good long talk.”

  Deja vu returned, and brought a rush of excitement with it.

  Chapter 38

  Daisy woke as Wade eased into bed. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and glanced at the clock, surprised to see that it was much later than she’d expected him. “Is everything okay?”

  Wade didn’t answer. He lay with one arm above his head and the other wrapped around her. She sat up enough to see his expression, wondering if maybe he hadn’t heard her. “Wade?”

  “Becky came to hear me play tonight.”

  It took Daisy a moment to remember that Becky was Wade’s manager. That newspaper article sprang to mind, as did the videos she’d finally made time to watch. “What does she think of your new songs?”

  Wade shifted to his side and rested his head on one arm while pulling her close with the other. “She likes them. A lot.”

  Daisy didn’t know what to ask further, so she waited for him to say more. Her heart fluttered like a scared bird. She lined her body up against his, wanting to touch, to feel him.

  “She wants to put together a showcase for me. See if any record labels might be interested in offering me a deal.” His voice was quiet but the words fell heavy in the silent room.

  Tears stung her eyes and she was grateful for the dark. “That’s wonderful. You could have your career back.” It was a lousy effort at being encouraging but she couldn’t help it. The thought of losing him squeezed her heart.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I thought I was past all that. Wanting it, I mean. I was on top once, what the hell do I want to make that climb for again?” He moved to a sitting position and turned on the small bedside lamp on the nightstand. “It’s hard as hell and it takes more work and more out of your life than it’s probably worth in the long run. You think you’re doing it for your music, your art, and that there’s some purity to your ambition because of that. But you wind up doing things you don’t like and don’t enjoy, things that make you feel like a used car salesman because it’s all about selling. You sell your music and you sell yourself and you sell and you sell and you sell, until there’s nothing left of any value. It hollows out that place inside where the art comes from. Makes it feel empty. Not just feel empty, but be empty. I didn’t write for so long, Daisy. I played old songs and other people’s songs and it wasn’t because I had nothing to say. It was because I didn’t think anybody gave a damn. If I couldn’t sell it, what was the point?”

  “The music was the point.” Daisy sat up and kissed him. She didn’t have the words to tell him how she felt, so she did her best to show him. “The music is always the point. You don’t need a reason to write songs, baby. It’s who you are.”

  “I finally remembered that. When I came home, when I met you. I remembered.”

  She took his hand in hers and squeezed. “The songs you’ve been writing are so good. I’m not surprised your manager thinks so too.”

  “You know, all the bad stuff I know about it, all the shit I went through and the shape it left me in.” He grimaced and shook his head. “Even knowing all that, I still damned near jumped out of my skin when Becky started talking about a new record deal. What kind of idiot does that make me?”

  Her heart sank. He wanted it, she could tell. How could he not? “You’re not an idiot, Wade. This is who you are. You’re a singer and a songwriter, and you’re amazing at both. Getting a record deal is the pinnacle of that. It’s like.” Daisy struggled with both the words and keeping her emotions in check. “It’s like a football player being offered a chance to play for an NFL team. It’s perfectly normal to want that. To want recognition for what you do.”

  “Part of me wonders if it would be better the se
cond time. Maybe I could exert more control over things. I’d know what to expect, so I’d know what to do my best to avoid.” He raised a hand in a searching gesture. “But then I think about touring, and I know I don’t want to do it. I do not want to live on the road anymore.”

  Hope beat butterfly wings in her stomach and her heart. She measured her words carefully, because she didn’t want to be selfish with him. She wanted him to be celebrated for his talent and follow his dreams, even if his dreams led him away from her.

  “Is there a way to minimize the touring? Maybe that’s where you could try to have more control. Instead of living on the road, you could maybe only go out for a few weeks or so.”

  “Becky talked about these videos people have been putting online. And she saw me play tonight. The label executives, they’ll know I can still put on a good show. I won’t have a good reason to refuse, and besides, it’s the best way to promote an album. The best way for a singer to make money.” He chuckled, the sound hard and a little bitter. “God knows album sales are shit these days.”

  “What do you want, Wade?” Daisy hated asking the question. She’d worked so hard to prevent her own happiness and security from being dependent on someone else. It was the last thing she wanted, to feel that her life was in someone else’s hands. It made her doubt everything: her resolve, her hopes and dreams for her own life. What if she was wrong to want a stable life and a home and a restaurant of her own one day more than she wanted to be with Wade? Should she just give all that up and follow him to Nashville and wherever else his dreams led him? If he even wanted her to, that is. Whose dreams were more important? Though she was loathe to think of it that way. Both of their dreams were important. The trouble was figuring out to make them work together.

  But first he had to figure out what he wanted, so she asked him again.

  “I don’t know, Daisy. Right now, I just don’t know.”

  Chapter 39

  Summer slipped away, it’s passing barely noticed at first as the heat lingered. The night air took on a different taste and the tempo of life changed as students returned to school. Daisy briefly considered loading up her schedule with courses, even if she had to use her credit card to pay for them, just to have an excuse to avoid Wade. Ultimately she decided against that. The end would likely come soon enough; she had no desire to hasten it. The money she’d saved over the summer allowed for three classes thanks to the exceptional tips. She registered for two: a business class and an electable - History of American Music.

  Megan looked over the print-out of the book list. “Hey, I’ve heard of this one guy. Peter Guralnick. I’ve seen his books in the library.”

  “Yeah, that one looks like a keeper.” Most of the time Daisy resold her textbooks.

  “What’s Wade think of you taking this class?”

  “I haven’t told him yet.” Daisy hit the button on the blender and let it break up the conversation. She wasn’t sure she wanted to talk about Wade. Once finished, she poured the margaritas and carried them to the couch, handing one to Megan.

  Megan let the book list hit the floor and sipped her drink. “Mm, good. Thank you.”

  “How’s your daddy?”

  “Depressed.” Megan took another sip. “He tries not to show it but I live with him, I can see it. The doctor says it’s normal, kind of like going through a mourning period. We’re going to try exercises and therapy first, and if that doesn’t help, then maybe medication. If Daddy will take it. High blood pressure pills are one thing but something like this, he’s going to fight it.” Her pinched face and flat tone of voice was worrisome.

  “What about you? How are you handling it?”

  “I stay on top of things. His appointment schedule, his meds, the bills, the house. My job. I’m handling it.” Megan swirled the green slush in her glass. “I heard Wade’s going to Nashville to meet with some record company people.”

  “Chris tell you that?” Daisy knew they’d been seeing each other, taking things slow. They were still more friends than anything else, but they were definitely headed for more.

  “He’s worried his brother’s about to make a big mistake.”

  “And what mistake would that be? Passing up a new record deal?”

  “No, walking away from you for a record deal. Is Wade dumb enough to do that?”

  “It’s not dumb if it’s what he wants. Would it be dumb for me to stay here instead of follow him to Nashville? Be the little woman who stays home while he goes on tour?”

  “I know you don’t want the long distance thing. Why not go on tour with him?”

  “You know the answer to that.” If anybody did, it was Megan. She knew in great detail all the reasons Daisy had for needing stability in her life.

  Megan let it drop. “You working tonight?”

  “Yeah. Wade’s going to come by before he leaves. He’s got an early meeting with his manager and some other people, so he’s driving to Nashville tonight.”

  “Now I know why we’re having margaritas for lunch.”

  “I was all out of fuck-it-all pills but I make it a point to never run out of tequila.”

  Megan raised her glass in salute. “Hear, hear.”

  Hours later Daisy walked into Rocky Top and made a snap decision as she tied on her apron. She went to Randy’s office and knocked on the door.

  Randy snapped, “Can you call the Bud guy? This order’s wrong.” Randy waved a sheet of paper in the air.

  “Hi. Sure thing.”

  Randy shook his head. “I’m sorry, kiddo. What can I do for you?”

  Daisy sat in the chair opposite his desk. “We need to talk.”

  “It scares the hell out of me every time a woman says those words.” He stabbed the air with a finger. “And in that tone. Sounds like serious business.”

  Daisy nodded. “It is. It’s about my duties as waitress.”

  Randy rubbed his jaw then crossed his arms over his front. “I’m listening.”

  “I’m supposed to wait tables, refill the condiment jars and the silverware tray. Clean the windows and vacuum the floor. Fill in at the register and the bar when someone’s on a break. That’s what all the waitresses do, except me.” She paused, momentarily losing her nerve.

  “Go on.”

  “You have me work on payroll and banking. Inventory. I make up the schedule. I make sure things get done. I make sure everything gets ordered that we need. In short, you have me acting as a manager. But you don’t pay me like a manager.”

  Randy dropped his arms to the desk and picked up a pen, tapping the arm of his chair with it. “I still do my part as owner but you know, Josh, well.” He didn’t finish the sentence.

  “I know. I get it, I do. But I’m tired of cleaning up after him. I know you’re looking at RV’s, I’ve seen the catalogs. You want away from the day to day running of this place.”

  “My wife and I would like to do some traveling together. An RV looks like a lot of fun.”

  “Josh can’t handle running this place.” Daisy tapped her knee with her forefinger. “I know Rocky Top like the back of my hand. I can do everything you need a manager to do, and you know that because I’m the one you call when he messes up. I know he’s your grandson and you’re trying to take care of him by giving him a job. That’s fine. But I need to take care of myself. I can’t keep doing all this extra work and not get paid for it. Not have it on my resume when I go to look for something else because all I can ever be here is a waitress.”

  Alarm erupted on Randy’s face. “You quittin’ on me, Daisy?”

  “No. I’ll be a waitress here until I graduate or you fire me. Again.” She laughed. “Thank you for that, by the way. Working out that deal with Wade and letting me have my job back.”

  Randy waved a hand. “Oh, hell. You have no idea how relieved I was when he came in here, asking for your job back like that. I didn’t know what I was going to do without you. If he hadn’t come in when he did, I probably would have called you and asked you to
come back.”

  “But you got him to play here for the summer anyway?” She smiled.

  Randy answered with a sly smile of his own. “I had to get something out of the deal. Besides, it worked out for the two of you pretty well from what I can see.”

  Daisy blushed. “Maybe.”

  “I won’t pry or gossip or stick my nose in your business. But I will say this. You two are good together. Good for each other. That’s when you know it’s got staying power, kiddo.”

  Daisy was silent, with no idea how to respond. It felt good that other people could see the connection between her and Wade, but the knowledge that it might not be enough gnawed at her.

  Randy said, “As for that other business. I’ve known for a while now that things couldn’t stay the way they were. The closer you get to that degree, it’s like a deadline for me and I got to figure out what to do. I want to retire but I don’t want to close this place or sell it. Not yet, anyway. I might have to sell one day but that’s a long time off. Right now, Rocky Top is still mine. Just because I don’t want to run it day to day don’t make a difference with that.”

  “I know. And I know you’re in a tight spot with Josh.”

  Anger flitted across his face. “That boy needs to grow up. And I guess it’s time he did.” Randy nodded, as if making a decision. “I knew as soon as you figured out what you’re worth here, that we’d be having this conversation.”

  Her stomach did a funny flop and she clenched her hands into fists. “What do you mean by that?”

  “I mean I’m gonna have to figure out how to tell Josh he needs to find a job he can actually do.” He wagged a finger at Daisy. “Your first job as manager is to hire a new waitress.”

  Daisy was too stunned to speak.

  Randy eyed her. “You do want the job, don’t you?”

  “Yes!” She collected herself. “Depending on how good the raise is.” She grinned.

  Twenty minutes later, she’d haggled him up to a decent salary. She returned to the main dining room to find Wade at the bar talking quietly with Ronisha. At the sight of Daisy, he took his leave of the bartender and strode to the empty stage. There were few customers yet and only one other waitress on duty until the evening rush.