Nashville by Heart: A Novel (12 page)

Gillian
had always imagined returning to Gold Creek Gap one day in a limousine,
surprising everyone in town with her amazing career, but on this day she had
the driver avoid Main Street and go straight to Momma’s house.

“Thank
you.” She handed the driver a tip large enough his eyes bugged. When she’d
called Will and told him she was going to visit her momma for a few days, he’d
come by the apartment and tried to talk her out of it.

“I
need a break,” she said from the doorway. “Will they understand?”

He’d
shrugged. “I guess I’ll have to make them.” Then, he’d handed her a large
envelope of cash.

“What’s
this?”

“Vacation
money. Call it an advance.”

“You
can’t buy my love,” she’d said, trying to joke, but when he looked embarrassed,
she apologized.

“Sure
you can,” Tasha had said, reaching through the door and grabbing the envelope.
She leaned in and stage whispered to Will, “I’ll make sure she gets it.”

“Gillian,”
her mom called. She stepped out on the porch dressed in a pair of blue jeans,
flip-flops and an Elvis T-shirt. Gillian could see the younger Louise somewhere
inside of that retro outfit and wondered how in the world her dad could’ve ever
left such a beautiful woman behind. And how in the world had she managed to
stay single? Choice, she knew. Louise had poured all of her energy into raising
Gillian, and deep down, she’d never gotten over Cooper Heart.

Gillian
looked around, happy to be home, as humble as it was. It would always be home
to her no matter what, and it wasn’t that bad. Many people in Gold Creek Gap
and all over the South lived in trailer homes with pretty little yards and a
cozy life. Her momma’s lawn was mowed and edged. Petunias spilled out of a half
dozen pots sitting around the recently painted deck, and hummingbirds flitted
around, leaving a trail of buzzing noises that made her feel giddy. She’d
missed the hummingbirds. The house itself was a little run-down, but it had a
freshly painted look, and behind it sat Momma’s small bundle of acres
overlooking the river. At least she owned it all, one of the only nice things
her dad had done for them.

“Are
you gonna come here and gimme a hug or not?” Louise bounced down the steps like
she herself was twenty-five.

Louise
embraced her tightly. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d helped pick up
Gillian’s broken heart.

She
glanced at the suitcases. “Where’s your guitar?”

“I
need a little break from all of it. Even the music.” Louise cast her a dubious
look.

“Don’t
start, Momma.”

“OK.
Whatever you need.” She turned toward the house. “And by the way, I’ll have you
know Will has called here three times to see if you made it.”

Gillian
lugged her suitcases up the steps. He’d called her cell phone too.

“He
didn’t want me coming home right now, under the circumstances.”

“You
mean, like you should be in town meeting with your new record label and doing
whatever a new star is supposed to do?”

Gillian
laughed. “That, and we got in a tiff, sort of.”

“What
happened, sort of?”

The
floor popped as Gillian followed her mom down the trailer hallway back to her
old room. Seeing it, she couldn’t fight back a smile. She’d never taken down
the posters of her favorite country singers, and they smiled down at her as she
walked in. Frowning again, she gently touched a photograph of herself and her
dad in a heart-shaped frame on the dresser, before snapping it face down.
Louise made no comment.

“Will
is the one who told the record company about Dad, and that’s why they wanted to
sign me.”

Louise
didn’t look at all surprised. “That’s how business works, honey. I’m sure he
didn’t mean to hurt you. He’s in love.”

“I
never told you that.”

“It
was obvious at your big meeting. Even on my little phone screen I could see
that the two of you couldn’t take your eyes off each other.”

Gillian
cracked open her suitcase. She wasn’t really surprised it had been that
apparent. Her phone buzzed suddenly. Will. She ignored it and continued rifling
through her suitcase.

“I
bet he had a good reason for it, and I doubt the only reason they wanted you
was because of your dad, honey. You know you have talent.”

“It
doesn’t matter now, Momma. I just need a break. I’m going back, I promise.” She
pulled out a string of colorful western beads and handed them to her mom.

“Thank
you, baby. They’re beautiful.”

Gillian
just smiled.

“Does
Will know you’re going back?”

“Of
course.” But even as she said it, she knew he was worried. It happened to some
Nashville dream chasers who couldn’t handle the pressure, and they never went
back. She, on the other hand, had signed a contract. He shouldn’t be so
worried.

“You
hungry? I was about to make dinner.”

Gillian
wasn’t, but she wasn’t about to rob her momma of the opportunity to comfort her
by cooking.

“Can
you make me some real macaroni and cheese? I am so sick of orange powder cheese
and noodles that come in a box.”

“You
betcha I can, baby.” She leaned over and kissed Gillian on the head. “I’m glad
you’re home, but don’t stay too long. Nashville awaits, and I want to hear my
daughter on the radio.”

Gillian
grinned in spite of herself. Her momma would urge her to go back to Nashville
until she repacked her suitcase, but for now, she needed home. After all the
time Gillian and Will had spent talking about their lives, even sharing some of
their deepest thoughts, it had been a shock to her that Will would share
something so personal with a record company, even to get her a deal. But Momma
was right, it shouldn’t have been.

Even
Dorothy was on Will’s side.

“I
think you’re overreacting to this,” Dorothy had said on their drive back from
the contract signing.

“How?
I asked him specifically not to share that story. My dad is a jerk. I don’t
want to see my name next to his anywhere in public.”

Dorothy
had shrugged. “Good luck with that. It makes a good story, Gillian. And your
dad has written a lot of amazing songs. The connection can only help. I can’t
say I wouldn’t have done the same thing if I were Will.”

“It’s
just a sad story, not that good.” Gillian’s heart had been heavy with
disappointment, even as she was thrilled about her record deal. Why wasn’t
anything in her life ever simple?

“If
you didn’t want people to know you were his daughter,” Dorothy had said, “then
why use the last name Heart?”

Gillian
hadn’t been able to think of an answer. The truth was, she’d asked herself a
dozen times if she should change her last name, but she didn’t want to. It was
the only thing she had left of her dad’s, which absolutely conflicted with the
very reason she was feeling so frustrated. Dorothy was right. Neither Will the
agent nor Will the boyfriend had tried to hurt her. Still, her heart hurt
anyway.

“Momma?”
she called, coming up the hall. “Do you have any coffee?”

She
stopped short to see a huge arrangement of cut flowers of several daisy
varieties in white, yellow, and purple she hadn’t noticed before.

“Wow,
you have an admirer?”

Her
momma smiled from the tiny kitchen. “No, silly. Daisies are your thing, not
mine. Those are for you. I guess you know who from.”

“But
Tasha said he already sent flowers to the apartment.”

“Well,
you can’t thwart love, honey. According to Tasha, when he found out you were
already gone, he told her to keep them and sent more here.”

She
plucked the card and opened it. “You talked to Tasha?”

“Sure
did. What’s the card say?”

“Asks
the mom who gives her daughter no privacy.”

Louise
laughed. “You know you want to tell me.”

Gillian
smiled. She did. “It says, ‘Darlin’, I’m sorry. Come back soon.’”

Her
mom’s mouth turned down in the same kind of shape as when she saw a hurt puppy,
and so did Gillian’s.

Ten
days later, Gillian’s mom playfully spanked her rump. “Now those are what I
call a pair of jeans, girl. I wish they’d had jeans like that when I was trying
to make it in Nashville. Are they new?”

“Yes,
even though I can’t really afford them. Cute, right?”

“Very
glitzy. Shopping’s more fun in Nashville,” Louise said. “I remember.”

“More
expensive too.”

“Speaking
of shopping, I know what we can do today. Let’s go to Caroline’s.”

“I’m
too tired to shop, Momma. I just want to hang out here.” She guzzled a glass of
sweet iced tea, its coolness making her wish she could dive into a whole pool
of it.

“In
this microwave oven? I don’t think so.” Louise was referring to the fact that
the air conditioning unit wasn’t working again. “Get in the car. Caroline’s AC
always works.”

As
they were leaving, they were met at the door by the flower delivery guy—again.

“Hi,
Joe,” Louise said. “Thank you.” She handed him a few dollars.

“No,
ma’am. The gentleman took care of the tip.” Already accustomed to the routine,
he held the flowers—more daisies—out to Gillian. Her mom looked at her. More
puppy dog faces.

~~~~

Caroline’s
was one of the little boutique shops on Main Street in downtown Gold Creek Gap.
Walking past the simple, but charming, strip of shops on Main Street was the
exact opposite of anything in Nashville. The town was humble, maybe even a
little run down in places, and there was no music pouring out of the business
fronts as they walked past. But it was a cute little street with hanging
baskets of flowers spilling over with blues and pinks, spectacular magnolia
trees in bloom, and clean sidewalks.

“I
do love this place,” Gillian said. “I miss it.”

“Well,
you’re here now, no matter how many times Will has called to get you to go
back.” Her mom looked at her with feeling. “He misses you.”

“Yes,
I know. He calls me a jillion times a day, and I get so many texts I barely
have time to read them.”

“But
you do.” Her eyes twinkled.

“I
do,” Gillian conceded. Most of the messages were filled with words like “I’m
sorry,” “Forgive me,” and “Baby, come back.” It was only a matter of time
before he called to serenade her or something.

A
bell tinkled, and they were met with a wave of cool air. Caroline herself,
still working at eighty-five years old if she was a day, came out of the back
room and gave Gillian a pat on the arm.

“Well,
if it isn’t Gillian Heart! And Louise.”

“Caroline.
It’s so good to see you. You haven’t changed a bit.”

“Stop
teasing me,” Caroline said. “You have. You look beautiful. Let’s see what we
can find to complement those beautiful eyes of yours. Something to impress your
boyfriend? Your fans?”

“My
fans?”

“Well
yes. Your momma told us about your record deal. Congratulations.” She motioned
toward a rack of clothes. “Now shop. Have fun.” She disappeared again behind
the counter.

Louise
giggled as she held a beautiful butterfly print shirt up to her chin.

“Gorgeous,
Momma. It’s on sale.” She glanced at the price tag. “Wow! I’m buying this for
you.”

“Absolutely
not.” Louise hung the flowy shirt back on the rack. “You told me you couldn’t afford
the jeans you’re wearing.”

Gillian
snatched the shirt back off the rack. “Yes, but you’re my momma. You deserve
one nice thing.”

Her
mom touched her cheek. “Baby, I have one nice thing. It’s you.”

Gillian
snorted. “I’m getting it for you. No ifs, ands or buts.”

“The
only problem is,” Louise said, “I have no idea where to wear a snazzy shirt
like this. It’s even too shiny for church.”

“You
should definitely wear it to church.”

Momma
handed the shirt to Caroline at the counter. “This one’s for me, and
I’m
buying it.”

Gillian
shook her head at Caroline, who winked back. She followed Louise over to a rack
of dresses.

“So,
when are you going back, honey?” her momma asked.

“This
conversation is never going to end, is it?”

“No.
So when are you?”

“I
don’t know,” Gillian said. “I like hanging out with you.”

“I
love hanging out with you too, sugar, but don’t wait too long. You and Will are
hot together, and now you’re like two ice cubes stuck in an ice tray—and in
different towns to boot.”

“Momma!”
She wasn’t comfortable with her mom using words like “hot” to describe anything
except the temperature of food.

“Well,
it’s true. You two remind me of me and your dad.”

“Momma,
can we not talk about you-know-who? He treated you terribly. Why do you want to
keep remembering?”

“Because,
he was the love of my life, Gillian. He was a jerk, yes, and he did cheat, but
for a time, we really loved each other.”

Gillian
could have reminded her mom that he obviously hadn’t loved her as much as she
loved him, or he wouldn’t have behaved so badly. He certainly couldn’t have
loved Gillian.

“Don’t
you regret having him in your life, Momma? Because I do.” She fought the pang
of anger in her chest.

“No.”
She grabbed Gillian’s hand and squeezed hard to get her attention. “That’s what
I want you to know. I’ll never regret your dad, because that would mean I
regret you. I’m glad we dove in like two crazy fools and that we had the best
journey up until the part about his leaving. I’m sorry he hurt you, and me, but
I don’t regret him.”

Gillian,
rightfully stunned, hugged her mom.

“You’re
the best, Momma.”

“Maybe
not.” Louise hung a dress back on the rack. “If I were a good mom, I would’ve
gone with you to Nashville, and then you wouldn’t be standing here right now. I
would’ve made you stay right there in Nashville and not skip your meetings with
your new record label.”

“Don’t
worry. I’m going back, just like I said.” She hoped her label would forgive
her. The last several days, the gravity of her snap decision to skip town
without any warning had her worried. “You know I can’t stay away from music,
Momma.”

“Or
from Will,” Louise said. She squeezed Gillian’s hand. “I don’t want you to
regret Will, OK? And I don’t want you to regret your dad.”

Gillian
gave a sad smile. She wasn’t sure the part about her dad was possible, but
before she could answer, there was a jingle at the front of the store.

“Gillian,
dear?” It was Caroline. “There seems to be someone here to see you.”

For
a ridiculous moment, Gillian looked up, hoping to see Will, but it was only the
delivery man.

“I
was delivering something to Caroline but have something for Gillian,” he said.
“I could give it to you right now. It’s in the truck.” He motioned toward the
door with his clipboard.

Gillian
handed her purchases and a wad of bills to Caroline. “That cash is for Momma’s
clothes too.”

Louise
tut-tutted, but Gillian brushed it off. Her momma deserved some nice things.
Ignoring the protests at the counter, she hurried out after the delivery man.

As
soon as he pulled the large rectangular package out of the truck, Gillian knew
what it was. The guy gently sat it on the ground beside her and held out his
clipboard to sign.

“Do
you want me to carry it to your car?”

“Oh,
no. I can get it. Thanks.”

“I
bet I know what that is,” Louise said, walking up behind her.

“Do
you think he’s sending me a hint?” The more distance Gillian gained from
Nashville, the more embarrassed she was for leaving exactly one day after
signing the deal. And of course, there was the wasted champagne.

“Oh
no,” Gillian said.

“What
is it, sugar?”

At
the time, Gillian had been in too much pain to think about Josie. But now
Gillian remembered the bottle glittering in the ice and the sparkling
long-stemmed flutes on the desk where Josie had sat, smiling, as Gillian left.

“I
was thinking of Josie, Will’s assistant. She had champagne and cheese all ready
to toast my deal. I didn’t even give her a chance to pour it, or to thank her
for all she’s been doing. I just left.” Gillian shook her head, disgusted at
herself.

“Well,
goodness,” Louise said. “That’s not like you.”

“I
know. I’m so embarrassed.”

“I
bet it was the good stuff too.” Her mom gave her a playful squeeze of the
shoulder.

“Thanks,
Momma, for making me realize what a bad child I am.”

Louise
laughed. “Just doing my job.”

“I
love you, Momma.”

“I
love you too, sugar.”

~~~~

In
her tiny bedroom back at the house, surrounded by more teddy bears than one
might imagine could fit into a small room, Gillian arranged a fan in the corner
and stood in only her tank top and underwear with her arms out to the side,
trying to cool off.

“Oh,
my gosh,” she moaned into the empty room. “It’s hotter ’n hell’s basement on
the day of reckoning.”

Giving
up on cooling off, she opened the box from Will, pulled out all the packaging,
and lifted out her guitar. There was a note.

Dear Gillian,

Tasha said you left this behind, but since you’re
taking a creative vacation before you get started, which is what I told the
record label when they were impatient to meet with you, I thought you might
need this to write some new songs.

Gillian
swiped a stupid tear.

I Love You, darlin’.

-Will

Gillian
picked up the guitar. She’d missed it more than she thought she would.
Adjusting the strap, she placed it over her head, her hands along the strings.
It needed a little bit of tuning, but that didn’t take long.

How
in the world had she thought she could take a break from music? Especially when
she’d signed a contract? It had always been her dream to make it in Nashville,
and she was on her way. She only hoped her overwhelming need to see her momma
and Gold Creek Gap wouldn’t jeopardize her career.

Gazing
out the bedroom window at her momma’s row of hollyhocks waving in the breeze,
she picked out a few notes, letting them hum through her body. It wasn’t long
before, in her mind, she was back at The Steel Spur playing in front of a crowd
on the cusp of something big. She could hear the crowd go crazy and then quiet
again as the sound reverberated through the room. The tiny hairs on her
forearms stood at attention. She wanted to write a new song.

She
wanted to write a dozen new songs, and as she wrote, her heart opened up as
sure as the blue morning glories winding up the front porch. Her dad might have
abandoned her, but the truth was, he’d left her with the gift of music. She was
OK, and she couldn’t wait to tell Will.

~~~~

Hours
later as she was still writing, her phone buzzed with a new text.

“What
do you think of my latest present, darlin’?”

She
dialed his number. She hadn’t used video calling with anyone except Louise, but
she wanted to see him. When his face popped up on the screen, her chest
tightened a little.

He
skipped right past hello. “Lord Almighty, you are so beautiful. I can’t wait to
get my hands on you.”

She
offered him a smile. “You’ve always had the worst come-on lines.”

“Who,
me?”

“Yes,
you.”

“What
else do I need to say to get you to come back?”

She
propped the phone on her dresser and picked up her guitar. Settling on her bed,
she hit a chord.

“I
don’t belong in Nashville, Will. At least not all of me.”

He
frowned. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

“A
part of me has to be here,” she said, rushing to explain.

“Listen,
Gillian—”

“That’s
what I’ve realized,” Gillian said. “Since I’ve been home. Anyway, listen to
this.”

It
was a love song, but not like the ones she’d been singing for Will lately. This
one was about a girl who left town for bigger dreams, only to find out that
what she wanted couldn’t be found in Gold Creek Gap or Nashville. Only in her
heart and in the heart of the man she loved. When she hit the last chord, she
waited for Will to say something. He didn’t.

She
peered into the little phone screen. Will was seated, elbows on his desk, his
hands stroking his stubble like he always did when he was thinking.