In the Lyrics (41 page)

MY FATHER CARVES the turkey for the first time in years as my momma hums along to a Christmas carol from the radio. Dinner isn’t ready yet, so I decide to take this time to go see my brother.

“I’m going to go see Levi for a little bit; I’ll be back in time for supper.”

Pops hands me his truck keys and I walk outside. Noticing Eddie’s truck is gone, I remember Momma saying last night that they were going to let our family celebrate alone this year.

The drive to the cemetery isn’t as daunting as it normally is. Putting the gearstick into park, I open my door and walk towards my brother.

His grave is just how I remember it. Cold and lonely. Kneeling down, I tell him about Pops and how he’s been sober for six months and about Momma’s apple pie. And then I tell him about the girl who stole my heart. My eyes tear up when I tell him about her coming back to town and how badly I want to whisk her away and go somewhere. I want to start over; I want her to be mine again, even if she is the one who called it quits. For some reason, I don’t think that matters anymore, whose fault it was. Really it was mine, I know that. I lied in the first place. I set this whole ordeal into motion. I did this, and now I want her back and there’s only one way to do that. A sense of relief washes over me.

“So that’s it, bro. I’m going to tell her how I feel. I have to. She’s my other half, my soul mate. If she doesn’t want anything to do with me, at least I know I tried. That I tried like hell.”

Leaning down, I rub my hand over the small picture of Levi’s face that is etched into the tombstone and I know with certainty what I have to do.

Speeding home, my Pops greets me at the door.

“Just in time, Son. Go on and get washed up, and then meet us in the dining room.”

Running up the stairs two by two, I wash my hands and throw all of my stuff into my backpack. After dinner, I’m leaving.

“What’s got you in such a hurry?” my old man asks as I sit down in front of him and pull my napkin over my lap.

“I think I’m going to head out early, if that’s okay with you both?”

Pops stops spooning the mashed potatoes onto his plate, as he and Momma both stare at me.

“I’m going home to find my girl and tell her how I feel. You’re both right. I still love her and I’ve been too foolish to admit it. She deserves to know. At least then it will be off my chest. Whatever she wants to do with the information is on her.”

My momma winks at me before she leans over and kisses my Pops on the cheek. If they can make it through anything, I know Hensley and I can too. I just have to get home and tell her.

OUR MEAL IS nice, but the sadness that fills the air around us makes the day bittersweet. Remembering the years we spent laughing and watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade made my heart ache. Dad would point out the funniest things during the parade, like the kid picking his nose or someone on a float acting silly. Today is the first of many holidays we’ll have without him.

After our small feast, I help my mom clean up the kitchen and put up the leftovers. You’d think we were planning on feeding half the town with all the food that she made. I didn’t mention it though for the mere fact that I’m sure she would break down. It’s been less than a full week. She’ll have to adjust her cooking portions majorly. I pour us both a glass of wine and we sit in front of the TV watching old Christmas movies on Lifetime.

“So tell me about what’s going on with Colby?”

Stop the clock, why is she bringing him up?

“Huh, Mom, I’m not sure what you mean,” I ask with a baffled look on my face.

“Now you know damn well there’s nothing getting past me. I saw him drop you off the other night.”

My eyebrows shoot up as my eyes widen.
Was she spying on me?

“And I know what you’re thinking. I wasn’t spying on you. The sound of you shutting the car door woke me up.”

Crap. I feel like I’ve just been caught cheating on a math test, and as I deny it, the teacher tells me she saw the answers written on my hand.

“He was just dropping me off, no biggie.”

Taking a sip of my wine, I pull the small blanket off of the back of the couch and drape it over my legs.

“For some reason I find it hard to believe that it’s no biggie. You can stop lying to me and more importantly to yourself, Hensley. Why do you feel the need to hide him from me? You always have.”

“Mom, do we really need to talk about this now? It’s Thanksgiving, let’s relax and be thankful. I don’t want to fight with you about this, not today,” I huff.

“I’m done with all that nonsense, princess. Life is too short and I can’t take back the past, but I can fix the future. We used to be so close and then he waltzed into town,” she waves.

Reading her mind, I say, “And stole your baby?”

Shrugging her shoulders, she lays her palm on my thigh.

“He didn’t steal me. I wasn’t living here before he even moved to town. You were suffocating me, Mom. Pushing your dreams onto me at every turn. I just grew tired of it, so I left. Dusty’s became my safe haven where I could be myself and love music because I wanted to, not because it’s what you wanted me to love. And then Colby came to town, and I had a hard time knowing that you wouldn’t accept him. There were countless times I wanted to introduce you and Dad to him, and now I’ll never get the chance…” Sobs catch in my throat. Taking a sip of wine, I try and drown them.

Before I have time to finish my sentence, my mom grabs me and pulls me close to her.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers into my ear. “I know I should have been different. I was so stinkin’ scared you would fall in love and you’d never get the chance to leave this town. I didn’t want my mistakes…not mistakes, getting pregnant was one, but having you was the biggest blessing I’ve ever had. I just didn’t want you to feel like, ten years from now, what-if. I’m truly sorry you had to flee the comfort of your own home to get away from me. I never meant to be so overbearing. Please forgive me.”

The heartfelt sincerity in her tone pulls at my heart. I know her words are real, and I accept her apology.

“Well, I guess while Colby is our topic…”

“I know you still love him, Hensley. I saw the look in your eyes when you were looking at that old tattered photo album in your room that you dug out from your hope chest. I know because I put it there when you left, and I know I said I don’t spy on you, and truly I don’t, but I did the other day. I was standing in the hallway. Watching you look through it, seeing the look in your eyes as you touched a picture of him, it broke my heart. I knew in that moment, that you loved him…that you still love him. If losing your father taught me anything, it’s that time is precious. If you still love him, baby, you have to tell him. The time and distance you’ve had apart don’t matter.”

Who is this woman and where is my real mom? I can’t believe the words that are coming out of her mouth and for a split second I consider pinching myself to make sure that I’m awake. My entire life was spent thinking she despised me from birth. I was the ending to her music career, an inconvenience. Yes, she did motherly things, but I’ve always felt like I was a nuisance to her, and now Dad dies and it brings out a side of her I’ve never seen before. A side I wish I could have grown up with. The weird part is she seems like she’s rooting for Colby and I. I just don’t know if our time is over, if there’s any hope for fixing the damage that’s already been done.

“I REALLY APPRECIATE you calling me.” Mitch smiles from behind the bar.

There’s no way I would leave town and not do Mitch a solid.

“No problem. I just can’t believe how many people signed up for open mic night.”

“They think since you got discovered here, they all will. The only problem is, they’re not all as talented as you,” he winks.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re flattering me. Wait, are you on my payroll?” I joke.

“I wish!”

“All right, I better go get ready. The last performer is going on stage now.”

Walking behind the stage, I hear the sounds of the girl singing on stage. Some people sound good. It’s a shame there aren’t more labels out there that give young kids a chance. Mold them and teach them like they did for me. Honestly, I think more kids would stay off the streets around here if they thought they had a chance at something more. I know I’m still young, but it makes me extremely thankful to Robert for my career, even if I was his second choice.

“Hey, Sunshine.”

Turning around, I see Colby tuning his guitar.

“Are you singing?” I ask, baffled by his presence.

I didn’t know he still performed.
Why wouldn’t he? Just because you left doesn’t mean he stopping loving music.

“I thought I might tonight. I haven’t in a long time, but since Mitch told me you were going to be here tonight, I thought I’d stick around,” he admits.

Walking away, I leave him to tune his guitar and make sure that I’m ready for my set. There isn’t a band, which is how I like it. Sometimes when we’re on tour, Will and I will find a small hole in the wall bar and set up. We’ll play with only our acoustics. It’s more personable and real. It’s how music used to be for me, before things blew up right in front of my eyes and I became an overnight sensation. Before I became this girl, the one I said I would never be. It’s not that I’m a bad person, it’s just that moving to Cali I promised myself I’d stay true to my country roots. Interviews even comment on my well-practiced Southern twang. There’s nothing practiced about it, it’s just my accent. There’s been a handful of times I’ve wanted to throat punch people, but Robert threatens my contract and reels me in. Keeping a smile on your face twenty-four hours a day is extremely exhausting, so I’m excited to be here tonight and play just because I want to.

The girl on stage finishes her song and the crowd claps, but it’s the cheering and screaming that alerts my eyes to the stage after she walks off it.

“All right, all right,” Colby says as he waves to the crowd and sits on a stool in the middle of the stage. There’s a dim light pointed towards him. No wonder all the ladies in the audience are going crazy, he looks mouthwatering with his guitar resting on his lap.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been on this stage, so bear with me, okay?” he asks and the hooting continues. “I’ve got my reasons for stepping away. Sometimes they don’t even make sense to me, but recently my reason for making music, my muse, came back into my life and things haven’t been the same. I haven’t been the same, so this is a song I’ve been writing but was just able to finish, and I hope you like it!”

His fingers find the strings on his guitar and he starts to strum a soft melody.

“Sometimes I find myself fighting for air

I find myself looking, but you’re never there

Time does nothing to dull the ache in my chest

I know you left

You were doin’ what you thought was best

Time hasn’t been on my side

I’ve been cooped up trying to hide from…

The pain, the hurt, the sorrow that rocks me to the core

The happiness, the laughs, it hasn’t been like it was before

You left

You fled

You shattered my heart and left me for dead

Like a dream I awoke, and I saw your familiar face

The pain, the hurt, the sorrow left without a trace

You’re back

You’re here

I’d do anything to make the last year disappear.”

He repeats the chorus and goosebumps rise all over my body. Is this song about me? It has to be. It’s our story to a T. Does this mean he still cares?

“Thank you,” Colby nods his head one last time before he walks off the stage and down the small set of steps. Walking by me, he whispers, “Good luck,” before leaving me standing, speechless. Thankful that the words I’ve been scared to say he said in the lyrics. The song has to be about me.