Six Miles From Nashville (11 page)

He watched his dad as he listened to the boys recite funny experiences during the recent harvest days. Mama laughed so hard she grabbed her hankie and mopped her eyes with it.

The room grew quiet. Mr. Davis stared at each of his sons. “I think it would be a good move if you went to the barber and got a decent haircut. I almost am thinkin’ that I have three little girls here with all that hair hanging down like that.”

Zach said, “ I just went there last week.”

“You need to get your money back,” Mr. Davis said.

“
Aw, Dad!”

“Devon and John, that means you
, too.”

John knew how to hold his dad back and appease him. “Okay, Dad, we will get to it.”

His brothers shot him menacing looks.

“
Don’t worry, I got this,” he whispered.

He left the room and turned the knob to start the shower. His mind drifted to the letter. He knew he should have written to her or even called her, but he was a coward.
He had waited so long to write a letter, that he decided not to write until he heard from her. It seemed to him that she had lost interest in him. He didn’t want to pester her if she had started a new life without him. He thought that was what she was implying in the letter.

Mrs. Barnes was abrupt with him when he went to see Betty at her home in Guymon. He didn’t understand why Betty hadn’t t
old her family about him. He had been under the impression they were engaged. Had she changed her mind? He knew he shouldn’t have showed up on their doorstep without calling Betty first. He hated talking on the phone because he never knew what to say. If she was still interested in him, she would have to let him know.

The questions poked around in his mind while he cleaned up. He stretched out on the bed to sleep.
He was more tired than hungry and soon was dead to the world.

Chapter 13

Betty couldn’t believe that it had been a year since the birth of her baby. She thought of that desperate day and the little newborn.
I hope he is better off than if I had kept him.
She paced the floors of her small apartment.
If I had known things would be as good as they are now, I wouldn’t have left him there.
She ran to the bathroom and sobbed into a towel.
I can never forget him.

She returned to the kitchen, took a folder containing a sheaf of paper, and ran down the back stairs to meet with Bill before the morning shift began. They were working on their third song together. Some of the up and coming stars were vying for their work. As of yet, their only singing gigs had been doing demos for their songs as well as songs written by others in their group at the studio.

Bill took the folder before she sat at the back table. He read over the lines and nodded his head. “This one is a good ballad. We needed it to balance with the little jingle-type hype we have been writing.”

She pulled another piece of paper out of her coat pocket. “This one is a Christmas song. It is rough and could use your touch.”

He took his guitar and strummed a chord. “Sing it as is. We will fill it in as we go.”

The words stuck in her throat because they were so close to her heart. She began in her strong low voice,

“Christmas without you,

Isn’t Christmas at all.

I watch for you in the meadow,

when the snowflakes begin to fall.

Losing you...”

The song moved smoothly along, with pauses, as Bill adjusted the chords to diminished chords and minor notes in spots along the words that provoked emotion. His contributions to the lyrics polished it to something record-worthy.

They worked well together and Sweetie watched with appreciation as she filled the salt and pepper shakers. She loved music and the brand Bill and Betty wrote was salve for her aching heart. Having the girl around took her further down the road to healing after the loss of Christiana.

There was time to do a quick recording of the song with the portable cassette recorder. Bill typed off the lyrics on some typing paper and put it in a large manila envelope with the cassette tape. If Sonny Sawyer, the Country music star who had recorded their other songs, liked this one, it could be out by Christmas. The wheels of the recording industry moved slowly, but the people at the label liked their work and needed a new Christmas song to round out a Christmas album they were working on with Sonny. Surely they would hear from them by the end of the week.

Betty ducked into the office. The song had brought out so many memories that she had a difficult time
containing her emotions. All she could see as she sang the song was the little baby and Johnny.
Why is my life full of so much loss?

She powdered her nose and marched to a table full of her regular customers. “Will it be the usual? How about adding a
short stack with those eggs? Miss Sweetie has homemade jam to go with the toast this morning. Want some of that with toast?”

She took the order and placed water glasses in front of some new customers who bounded through the door and plopped into the nearest table.
They took menus from beside the ketchup in the middle of the table and searched it. There were many options to choose from. It was a few minutes before Betty reappeared with her order pad.

She moved from table to table taking orders and bussing tables. If she kept busy she wouldn’t think of the things that pressed on her mind. The cafe was still reaping the benefits of the remodel with consta
nt crowds. Many of them came for the live music. Bill and Betty had created a good following.

Days ran together as uneventful even though she co-wrote a few songs that made it on the
top of the Country Hits list. The loneliness she felt engulfed her.

She placed a cup of coffee in front of a you
ng man and handed him the menu. “Thank you,” he said.

“What can I get for you?”

“You are the one who sings here, aren’t you?”

She blushed and put her nose into the ticket pad. “How about the Southern breakfast? And...yes, I am..I sing some here.”

“I like your singing and I think the Southern breakfast sounds really good.”

“Thank you,” she breathed.

She took the order and tended to her other customers. Soon she was back to refill his cup.

“I hope I didn’t offend you, Miss.”

“I just can’t think of myself as a singer.”

His blue eyes twinkled as he continued. “You are a singer, young lady.”

“Thanks.”

He searched his mind for something intelligent to say, “Do you sing anywhere else besides here?”

“Nope.”

“I guess I don’t know how to tell you how good I think you are.”

“It’s okay. Thanks.”

He leaned back on his seat in the booth and locked his fingers behind his head in a good stretch. She noticed his bright white smile and wondered what he was thinking.

“Do you realize that I request this route so that I can stop by here once a week to see your face and maybe have the chance to hear you sing?”

She placed the order pad in her apron pocket and put her hands on her hips. “Why?”

“I shouldn’t have told you that, but since I did, I have to answer you. Truth is, I can’t help myself. There is something so sweet about you. I want to know you better.”

“I don’t know about that. I have to clear some tables.”

He stood and took his billfold from his back pocket. Searching through it, he pulled out a few bills and tossed them on the table. “I am just a working man. I know you could have anyone you want and you probably have a steady boyfriend, but if you would think about it some, I would like to see you or take you to the movies.”

“You would?”

“Would you go with me tonight after work... to the movies?”

“I don’t know.”

“I promise to bring you straight home. You can even bring some of your friends if it makes you feel more comfortable.”

“Okay, I will see if Miss Sweetie and Bill will come.”

He sat back down in the booth. “I’ll wait.”

She went through the swinging doors to the kitchen and approached Bill. “Could you and Sweetie come with me and this guy to the movies tonight?”

“Ah, ‘this guy’? Sure.”

“He comes through once a week.”

“Tell Sweetie we have a date.”

Betty couldn’t help b
ut smile at the handsome dark haired man. “It will be a double date. We close at nine p.m.”

He followed her to the cash r
egister and waited for Sweetie to emerge from the kitchen. “Miss Sweetie, this is, ah.”

“
Gage Marrow. Glad to meet you.”

“Hi,
Gage.”

“Bill said to tell you that we are all going to the movies together tonight.”

Sweetie narrowed her piercing eyes and examined the man. “Is that right?”

“With your permission, Ma’am.”

Sweetie saw the sparkle in Betty’s eyes and agreed to go. The man left and Sweetie placed her hand on Betty’s back. “Hon, you really do want to go, don’t you?”

“Yes, I guess I do.”

“Don’t worry, it will be fun.”

“Thanks so much for going.
I don’t know why I even want to go.”

“You don’t have to have a reason. You are young and that is enough.”

Betty cleared the table and gasped at the amount Gage Marrow had left for a tip. “Can you believe he left me a five dollar tip?”

“I can. You are a good waitress. The prettiest one here.”
Sweetie laughed on her way to the kitchen to check on her husband.

Blazing Saddles was a big hit with the two couples. Betty couldn’t recall the last time she had laughed so much. It felt good to be with friends and have a good time.

Gage
opened the passenger door of his yellow Ford Mustang for Sweetie, Bill, and Betty. As he climbed into the driver seat he turned in the seat to ask, “Would you like to get some ice cream? There is a thirty-one flavors parlor down this road.”

“I would love some ice cream!” Sweetie said excitedly.

Gage smiled at Betty and leaned close. “How about you, young lady?”

“Sounds good.”

“I don’t know about you, Bill, but I am systematically going through each of the thirty-one flavors. I am sorta obsessed with conquering them.”

The women giggled at the confession. Bill put his massive hand on
Gage’s shoulder and answered him gravely, “It is a huge undertaking, but I have faith in you.”

Talk down the interstate turned
to favorite flavors and the age-old argument of homemade vs. store bought. Gage proved himself to be able to hold his own in conversation.

Soon the evening was over. He took Betty to her apartment first. Bill and Sweetie waited in the car while he walked her up the stairs to her door.

“I had a good time, Gage.”

“Me too. Maybe we can do it again next week if I make it by.”

She turned the knob on her door and looked up to his face. He seemed harmless, but she knew better. The gun in her purse gave her some courage. “We’ll see.”

She stepped through the door and waved at him from the safety of the flimsy screen door. “Thank you.”

He turned on his heel and wondered at her cool demeanor. She watched him as he drove the little car around the corner and out of sight.

He seems nice enough. Johnny was nice too, but he has lost interest in me. I haven’t seen him in over a year.

Chapter 14

Betty began to look forward to Wednesdays. It seemed that more often than not, Gage’s day to come in was on that particular day. Sometimes they all went to a movie and sometimes he only had time to eat at the cafe, before going to the next stop.

They looked forward to lengthy conversations over coffee at the cafe. Betty felt safe with him as long as she was with her friends or they were in the cafe.