Love Song (24 page)

When the show resumed, Andi and Nicki were sitting side-by-side on a sofa. The reporter asked them various questions about the show, working together, and how they met. They also talked about Nicki’s new recording contract, with Nicki proudly saying that Andi had written a couple of songs for her that would be included in her first album.

“What about you, Andi? What comes after the tour?”

“I’m going to take some time off, then record my next album. I’m still working on songs for it. I have several ideas that I haven’t had time to develop yet. And I’d like to move from my apartment into a house.”

“Do you have something near Nashville in mind?”

Andi smiled softly. “No, it’s not in Tennessee. I found the perfect place when I was home in Texas.”

Wade leaned forward, studying the tenderness in her face, listening carefully.

“It’s a beautiful brick rambler on quite a bit of acreage. It even has a white old fashioned swing with a comfy green cushion on the porch. The view of the valley and hills from the front of the house is breathtaking.”

Wade turned up the volume to hear her over his thundering heart.

“It’s the most beautiful place on earth. I’d be perfectly content to spend every day of my life right there.”

“No more tours?” asked the astute reporter.

“My contract ends after the next album, so we’ll have to see what happens. I’m not free to talk about any possibilities right now.”

“Have you made an offer on the property?”

Andi’s smile softened even more. “No. It’s not for sale, but I’m going to try to work out a lifetime lease with the owner. He’s a wonderful man, although he can be a little thick-headed sometimes. I’m hoping he will listen to reason.”

“I am not thick-headed,” muttered Wade. Then he laughed, knowing that was exactly what he had been.

***

When Wade came in from work late Monday afternoon, a FedEx overnight envelope was tucked inside the screen door. He opened it and found a single ticket to her concert in Fort Worth. An unsigned note was attached, apparently written by the clerk in the ticket office. “Front row, center stage. Per Andi, best seat in the house.”

He glanced at his answering machine, the blinking light indicating he had a message. Excitement spiraled through him as he walked across the room. His old machine had died with Dawn’s last message, and this was the first time he had used the new one. He had to stop and look for the “play” button, since he’d barely had time to skim over the directions. He pushed the button, anticipating Andi’s sweet voice.

“You have three messages,” uttered a monotone robot voice, making Wade jump. He glared at the infernal machine and waited. After that disappointment, he half expected the messages to be from the Highway Patrol telling him he had cows out on the road.

Andi’s soft voice reached out and wrapped him in tenderness. “Hi, darlin’. This is Andi. Just wanted to let you know I’m sending you a ticket to the show in Fort Worth. It should arrive today. If you don’t get it by Wednesday, please call Dawn, and she’ll track it down. I hope you’ll come. It means a lot to me. If you clap and whistle loud enough, I’ll take you out to eat after the show. Bye.”

He grinned, then raised an eyebrow when the second message started to play. It was Andi again.

“I hope you saw Country Music Scene on Friday night. If you didn’t—watch it this second! By the way, God and I have everything figured out, so you can quit worrying. You’re not the only one with a direct line to heaven, you know.”

The third message began, and he shook his head, laughing when he heard her voice.

“By the way—I love you, and I’m going crazy without you.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart,” he whispered, pushing the “save” button.

“I have saved all your messages,” intoned the answering machine.

“Shut up you dumb machine, before I shoot you.”

“You may play them again.”

Wade stared at the whirring, clicking machine, thinking the robot voice sounded smug. Shaking his head, he threw his hat on the kitchen counter. “Looks like we’d better get together before we both go crazy.”

Andi peeked out at the audience, her gaze zeroing in on the empty seat where Wade was supposed to be. “He’s not coming,” she wailed.

Kyle patted her shoulder absently, watching Nicki as she finished her fourth number. “He’ll be here. He’s probably just stuck in traffic. Oh, did you see that? Did you see the way the light sparkles off her diamond?”

“Will you knock it off! Quit gloating because the foolish girl said she’d marry you. If you don’t start showing some sympathy for me, I’ll tell her everything I know about you.”

Kyle flinched. “You wouldn’t.” He frowned at Andi.

“No, of course, I wouldn’t, but I could use some moral support right now. He’s chickened out, I just know it.” She turned her back on the stage.

“Now, hon, don’t give up so quickly.” Kyle looked out at the audience. “Isn’t that him sitting down right now?”

Andi spun around and practically fell on stage in her effort to look. She sprang back and grabbed Kyle’s arm, closing her eyes in relief. “He’s here! He did come! He loves me!”

“Of course, he loves you, silly. Now, stop squeezing my arm so hard. You’re cutting off the circulation.” He grinned at her when she let go and opened her eyes. “Don’t go hyperventilating. Calm down. You’ve still got a show to do.”

“Yes, slave driver.”

“Excuse me, Miss Carson, but a Mr. Jamison asked me to deliver this to you immediately. He said it was very important.”

Andi turned to the usher standing behind her and almost started crying. The man was holding a long green cushion, the one from the swing on Wade’s front porch. A note pinned to it said, “Front row, center stage. Best seat in your house.”

“Oh, Wade, you big romantic lug,” she whispered.

“He also said to give you these,” said a second usher. With a groan, he set down the largest basket of red roses she had ever seen.

Clutching the bulky green cushion, she caressed one of the rose petals with her finger. “Aren’t they beautiful?” She opened the card and read, “Sorry I’m late. Cows got out. I love you. Wade.”

“You’re almost up, Andi,” said Kyle. “I’ll take care of the flowers and the cushion.” He took the card from her hand and carefully tucked it back in with the flowers. “If you keep it, you might drop it on stage.”

“When they bring out my stool, I want the cushion, too.”

Kyle smiled. “That can be arranged.”

She pulled one of the roses from the bouquet, double-checked to make sure the thorns had been removed, then picked up the cordless microphone. Nicki began their duet, and Andi came in right on cue, her heart overflowing with happiness. When she walked out on stage, the audience came to their feet. Her gaze swept past Nicki’s family, past her own mother and father and Dawn, to Wade’s wonderful, smiling face, clearly visible in the stage lights. He clapped and stomped one foot and let loose with a shrill whistle.

She laughed and walked toward him as the band continued to play, and Nicki waited patiently. He went still as she approached. There were steps a few feet from him going down to his level, but she didn’t use them. Instead, she stopped at the edge of the stage, kissed the rose, and tossed it to him. Standing in the edge of her spotlight, he caught it with a smile and lifted it to his lips. The audience gave them their hearty approval.

Andi laughed in delight and scampered back to Nicki’s side, so they could finish the song. After Nicki left the stage, Andi jumped right into the show, giving the performance of her life—for Wade, for her family, and the fans, and because it might be the last big show she ever did. She felt a twinge of sadness mixed in with her joy, but she did not dwell on it. She was wise enough to know that at times she might miss these performances, but she knew God had something far more wonderful in store for her, both as a woman and in her career.

As Wade watched her sing and dance and entertain—better than she had ever done before—his soul rejoiced. He took pleasure in her accomplishments and joy in the knowledge that much of her happiness was because of him. It humbled him, too.

During the second half of the show, the pace slowed, and Andi shared briefly about her illness and her relationship with Jesus. “This is a song many of you probably know. Feel free to sing along.” The keyboardist played the first few bars of “Amazing Grace,” then faded out, leaving her to sing the old hymn without instrumental accompaniment.

Wade blinked back tears as her beautiful voice soared to the heavens. No one sang with her. It seemed as if no one dared breathe. He glanced around, looking at the people in the rows curving around the stage. Some had their hands in the air, an attitude of praise to God. Others sat with their heads bowed, tears running down their cheeks. Many sat with their eyes fixed on Andi as if they were listening to the words for the very first time.

Lord
, he prayed silently,
if you want her to continue with this life, I won’t stand in the way. I’ll work with her to make it happen. I’ll support her in any way I can.

When the song ended, silence filled the coliseum.

“Amen!” shouted Wade in his deep voice. A hundred voices agreed, then the applause began.

Andi lifted her hand to the heavens, directing the praise to God.

A few minutes later, a stagehand brought out a tall stool and the green cushion. Wade almost laughed out loud. Dawn looked at it and leaned over to ask if it was the cushion from his swing. When he replied that it was, she giggled and turned to tell Andi’s parents.

At Andi’s direction, the stagehand draped the bulky cushion over the stool, then helped her climb up on top of it. She adjusted the microphone in the stand and strummed a few chords on her guitar. “I’d like y’all to pretend that you’re with a few hundred of your closest friends, sittin’ around a campfire somewhere out on the prairie.” The lead guitarist howled like a coyote, and the audience laughed. Andi looked back at the band. “Don’t start yippin’, boys. Somebody throw him a bone.” The drummer threw a gigantic sponge bone at him, evoking more laughter from the crowd.

She played and sang some old cowboy ballads and the one she had written about her great-grandfather. Then she sat still for a few minutes, and Wade’s pulse rate picked up. Something important was coming.

“Since resuming the tour, I’ve been asked many times what has changed about me. No one can quite put their finger on it, but they know something about me is different, something is better. There are probably several reasons. I’m healthier than I’ve been in years. And I’ve gotten my relationship with the Lord straightened out.

“But there is something else I haven’t been free to share about. I’ve discovered in the last few months that I’ve been lying to you. I’ve sung love songs for years and even written several that were considered pretty good. But I didn’t know what I was talking about.

“Now, I do. While I was back home for a couple of months, I renewed a friendship with an old friend from high school. Friendship has grown into love. Even before I got sick, there was an emptiness in my life, a loneliness that nothing could ease. When I gave my life to Jesus again, part of that emptiness was filled, but not all of it. Because of the love of a very special man, now that emptiness is gone, and my heart overflows with love and happiness. That’s what you see, that’s what you hear when I sing. His love for me, and mine for him.

“I want to be a wife and mother, but I can’t have the kind of family life I want and keep up such a high-paced career. I also believe God is calling me to do other things, although I haven’t sorted them out yet. I’m contracted to do another album, but this is my last tour.” She waited while the fans noisily digested the news.

“I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for all your support, both in coming to the show and in buying my music. I love you very much and appreciate you tremendously. I hope you’ll continue to enjoy my music—and buy my albums,” she added with a big grin. “And I hope you’ll understand.”

She looked at Wade and smiled, then glanced slowly around the auditorium. “Now, this cowboy of mine and I have had a communication problem, so I hope you’ll bear with me while we get a few minor details straightened out. During a television interview last week, I dropped a big hint to him that I’d like to marry him. Of course, I couldn’t come right out and say that over the air, so I indicated I was interested in taking out a lifetime lease on his house.” Laughter rippled through the audience. “Then I sent him a ticket for tonight’s show with a little note indicating it was the best seat in the house.

“I reckon he understood my hint the other day, because tonight he sent this cushion back stage. It’s from his porch swing, the one that looks out over the most beautiful valley this side of heaven. There’s a little note pinned on it here.” She stretched down and lifted the edge of the cushion to read the note. “Front row, center stage. Best seat in your house.”

The women in the audience sighed and the men grinned.

“He was late getting here, and I’d about given up. Then he arrived and sent this beautiful basket of flowers back stage.” A stagehand hauled out the flowers. “It has a little note, too, apologizing for being late.” She paused. “The cows got out.”

Giggles and guffaws filled the air.

“Now, understand we haven’t actually talked to each other in about a month, so I may be jumpin’ the gun a little.” She looked right at him, and his heart almost leaped out of his chest. “Wade, honey, if you’re proposing, I’m saying yes.”

He knew she expected him to go up on stage; it was the only way to end the evening. But his legs had suddenly turned to Jell-O.

Dawn jabbed him with her elbow. “Move!”

Wade pushed himself out of the seat and started toward the stairs leading to the stage, thinking he was grinning like a possum eatin’ persimmons. He met Andi’s loving gaze, and his grin grew even wider. As he walked onto the stage, her face filled with alarm, and she scrambled down from the stool.

A man ran by, and Wade caught a strong whiff of alcohol.