Tate (18 page)

“Making Tate happy,” Popie said.

“Oh, that,” I laughed. “He makes
me
happy.”

“He’s never brought a girl to the house,” Gabby said. “Has he, Mama?”

“Hell, he’s never even told me a girl’s name,” she laughed. “He’d told us your story even before it hit the news. You’ve had a struggle, and yet, you’re not a mess.”

“But I am a mess, I just try to hide it. I pray that Tate really can handle all my baggage. I’ve known about my mother all my life. Granny never kept it from me. She thought I could handle what she called the malarkey, if I knew what it was. I’d never even seen the murder scene photos and now the entire world has seen them. People who really know nothing about me now have an opinion about who they think I am.”

“We want you to know that we welcome you into this family with arms wide open,” Popie said. “We live in a judgment free zone filled with love and support for you. Your mother’s story isn’t your story. Your story is just beginning. We’ll be here for whatever you need and want. We’ll be your family, Maisie. We will love and comfort you.”

Popie, the serious, motherly one – like Fay,
I thought.

“I love that. I love the idea of family. Mine was really just Granny and I.. Kitty was never around. And then Carlene, Queen Carlene of Nashville,” I said with a smile. “She rescued me, more than once. I will love being part of this family.”

“So?” Gabby said drumming her fingers around the coffee cup she held with both hands. “When?”

“When?” I looked at them. “Oh! When for a wedding? I’m not sure yet. We talked about after the next four-week tour schedule is over, but nothing is set.”

“But there
will
be a wedding,” Popie said. She didn’t ask, it was more like a declaration. For some reason I started laughing.

Tate came around the corner and I was still laughing. His mama and sisters were just looking at me.

“What’s funny, Maisie?” he asked, with a chuckle, leaning to kiss me.

“It’s nervous laughing! I’m not sure, but I think I was just ambushed by the Morrow women! Popie was talking about a wedding and well, since we haven’t made any plans yet, it just made me nervous.”

“I told you about these three. They will never
tell
you what to do, but they’ll sure suggest what they
think
you ought to do.” Now he was laughing, and then Fay started in.

“They’ll set a date when they’re ready,” she scolded, still laughing. She turned to me and said, “Tate’s right. We suggest hard sometimes.”

I rose to go shower. My things were already packed to go, and I thought Tate might need a few minutes alone with his family.

When we left for the airport, all three of them hugged us goodbye with tears in their eyes. “We’ll see you soon,” Tate said.

“Soon,” I repeated. As we drove away, I shouted out the window. “Thank you for having me!”

We got to the airport at seven. My flight was boarding in half an hour. Tate had another hour to wait.

“I don’t want to leave you,” I said, as he hugged me. 

“Go with me.”

“I can’t. I have to get back to whatever normal was before all of this came to light about Kitty.”

“I know you need to get back. I need you more, but this is you. This is what you do. I get that.”

“I love you, Tate Morrow.”

“You gonna put that ring on when you get home?”

“I’ll be proud to,” I said with a big smile.

“Deidre is picking you up,” he said.

“I won’t run.”

“Good, she’s bringing Sadie to you.”

***

Tate was heading to Denver. I’d meet him in Salt Lake City next Saturday. What an incredible man I’d been blessed with. Good looking, kind, compassionate, and understanding. Blessed - that’s all I could think about. I kept reminding myself what he’d told me about allowing others to rent space in my head. Heading back to Nashville with my head held high, I felt proud to tell anyone who asked that I was going to marry Tate Morrow.

At home, I slipped the ring on my finger and held my hand to my cheek. I took a selfie and sent it to Tate.

The future Mrs. Tate Morrow.

I received a reply instantly.
I love the sound of that! Call you later. I love you.

When I arrived at the shop the next morning, it surprised me to find both Dion and Carlene waiting for me, along with a list of appointments for dress design and fittings. The two of them smothered me with love. Trying not to cry, I said, “Dion, we’ve got work to do! What the heck is all this crying about?”

“I’m just excited and anxious about all that’s ahead of us. And don’t you think for one second that I’m not helping design your wedding dress! Let’s see that engagement ring,” he said, taking my hand.

“Who else in the world would I allow to do such a special task?” I replied, and started crying too.

“Lovely!” Carlene exclaimed.

My phone rang.

“Hey,” Tate said. “I’ve only got a few minutes. I did some soul-searching during my flight. You need to turn on The AM Wake Up Call from Nashville.”

“Turn on the TV, Dion - The AM Wake Up Call,” I instructed.

“I’ll call you later, I gotta go. I love you,” Tate said.

“Good morning Nashville! Thanks for joining us for the second hour of our show,” Candy Dickson said. Her spot on, honest reporting cast Candy as one of the most respected news celebrities in the business.

“I spoke with country singing sensation, Tate Morrow, earlier.” As she said his name a picture of the two of us flashed behind her.

“Tate couldn’t be with us in person, but he had some things he wanted to share about life, and some things that we’ve been hearing. Vincent, audio please.” Pictures of Tate performing along with pictures of the two of us flashed in the background.

How can there be that many pictures of us available already,
I wondered. They were good pictures, not the headlines that had taken up space in the gossip newspapers recently. Then Tate’s voice came through the speakers.

“Candy, I appreciate you giving me a few minutes. I want to set some things straight. I know that what you share is news, not tabloid gossip. I also know that you and your program have made no mention of what’s been going on with Maisie. I thank you for waiting for a real story.”

“I dig first, then report it,” she said.

“Exactly why you are the media outlet I chose to talk about Maisie.”

“I know it’s been a difficult time for both of you.”

“It has, but it wasn’t just difficult, it was malicious. Maisie is one of the kindest, most caring people I‘ve ever met. She was dealt a bad hand young in her life, and now the whole world knows about it. I don’t think they needed to know, but we’ve had no say in that matter. With a little guidance, she’s handling this far better than I could imagine. She’s attempting to walk with her head held high. I want to direct what I’m about to say to the person or persons who found it necessary to share Maisie’s story.”

“I must say that your words to your audience in Oklahoma City were calm and kind, and surprising to us who knew the story. It was a personal, powerful punch. I’m glad you did it.”

“I was raised to believe that we should do unto others as we hope they will do to us in return. The audience in Oklahoma felt like home and family. My mama and sisters were in the front row with Maisie, so it made it easy to share my feelings. I felt like I could go about all of this in the most positive way possible.”

“I’ve been around Nashville a long time, Tate. I knew about Kitty Evans, but I never knew she had a child until all of this leaked,” Candy said. “The stories of her mother weren’t big news to those of us in the business back then. We all knew about her.”

“Anyone who wanted to know could have found that news. The thing is Maisie had nothing to do with any of stories shared with the entire world. That wasn’t
her
story – it was Kitty Evans’ story. I’ve spent the last two weeks reflecting on what Maisie shared with me about her past before it became news. What I can’t figure out is what she could possibly have done to whoever decided to bring this out. It hurt all of us - this affected our family and friends, too. I can’t imagine what benefit, besides Maisie’s devastation, those who shared the story received.”

“Tate, you’re handling this with such grace,” Candy said.

“I’m not the one who is grace filled. That’s Maisie. I kinda just want to find out who it was and kick their…” He paused. “Well, you know what I’d like to kick. At first, fear had her running - to retreat and hide. I just wanted to find her. No one should suffer that kind of hurt alone. I’m hoping to teach her strength through these revelations, praying this experience makes both of us stronger. She’s had her share of troubles. I want to show her that the world is kind if we surround ourselves with the right people.”

“Are there any leads?”

“I’m not prepared to talk about that at this time.”

“So, on the plus side of all this, you told the world that Ms. Bolden and you are going to get married.”

“Maisie’s timetable, but I’ll hope it’s soon,” Tate chuckled. “Candy, I need to go, but I want to thank you so much for talking to me.”

“Thank you for reaching out to me, Tate. Let’s talk again soon,” she said before the conversation ended.

Carlene, Dion, and I were standing there, processing what we’d just experienced, when April came in the shop. I welcomed her and made up my mind to make the day as normal as possible. I pulled the calendar up on the computer. It was full. Today Ami was coming in to talk about a dress she’d requested for a gala. I dreaded any encounter with her. I tried to focus on the nude sparkle fabric we found instead. Dion brought the unfinished dress out for me to see before she arrived. I was thrilled - it was gorgeous. She was the last person I wanted to see, but it’s my business. In my mind, I heard Tate reminding me that we weren’t going to allow people to ‘rent space in my head’, so I prepared myself for Ami’s arrival.

“Well, hey!” she said when she walked in. No, change that. Ami Woodson didn’t walk - she breezed into a room.

“Hey yourself,” I said, as I rose from the sewing machine.

“Sorry I’m late, I had some important things to take care of.”

I knew her well enough to know that an appointment at three would mean a 4:00-4:15 arrival.

“Oh, Maisie. I’m so glad to see you here. Are you OK?” she asked in a ‘poor you’ voice.

“I’m great!” I announced. “Let’s get busy.”

Dion came around the corner and air-kissed her in the way he welcomed all the female customers. “Bonjour magnifique!” he greeted her in French.

“Oh, Dion, if you weren’t gay I’d run away with you,” she giggled.

If anyone could bring Ami Woodson down to our level, it was Dion. I smiled at the scene because I knew as soon as she was out the door he’d be a catty bitch. He was such a girl.

“Have you met April? We’ve gotten so busy that we brought another seamstress on board. Plus you know, before long, Maisie and Tate will get married.” I swear I saw devil horns poking out the top of his head as he spoke. “Girl! Wait until you see what we’ve created for you. Maisie gave me incredible sketches, and you know that I know your body like my hand,” he said, waving it in a feminine way.

April watched the scene unfold as she sat at Dion’s machine, stitching away.

“Dion! I can’t stand it! Show me!” Ami squealed.

“Paper first, you know how this goes. We have two.”

He laid the sketches on the table in front of her. I saw her eyes widen. She turned to look at me. “Maisie!” she squealed.

“Dion, I think she likes…”

He went to the back and returned with one of the dresses. We’d worked with her long enough that we knew we could make the dress up to the fitting stages. First, he brought out one in a green beaded lace. The fabric behind the lace was champagne colored, almost nude.

“Gorgeous!” She ran to the fitting room and was back out in about two minutes. “Zip it, Dion!”

She stood in front of the three-way mirror and turned. “It fits like a glove!” she exclaimed, running her hand down her backside. She turned the other way, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

“I don’t know if I want to see the other one!” she teased.

“You
know
you do!” he said, taunting her.

When he returned, she was in the fitting room waiting. I smiled proudly as he carried the dress to Ami. It was knockout gorgeous. I knew that it would hug and shimmer over every inch of her body.

“My favorite,” I said.

Dion knocked on the door. Ami saw the dress and closed her eyes. I saw the pleasure on her face, and thought at any moment she’d have an orgasm.

“It’s gorgeous. I can’t wait to feel the fabric against my skin.” She turned around and Dion helped her into the dress. The style was like a second skin. Once it was in place, he zipped it and she walked to the mirror. She pressed her perfectly manicured fingers to her mouth. That dress owned her.