“I really came over to talk to Casey.”
Casey was cutting a pork chop, the only person at ease in the room. “Sure. What’s up?”
“I want you to come to Nashville and sing backup for me when I record ‘Small Town Girl.’ “
Casey’s eyes grew as big and brown as horse chestnuts. The fork and knife fell from her fingers and clattered to her plate. “Oh, my Lord,” she whispered. She covered her mouth and nose with both hands. “Oh, my Loooord.”
Faith looked back and forth uncertainly between Tess and Casey, and whispered, “Oh, my goodness.”
Kenny set down his silverware silently, watching his daughter’s eyes fill with tears. Without another word Casey rose and went around the table to Tess. “Come here,” she whispered thickly.
Tess rose and stepped into Casey’s embrace. It was more than an embrace, it was gratitude and speechlessness and an inability to express her stunned joy any other way than to stand there clinging to her idol while Stardust seemed to be falling from above. Something magnificent happened inside Tess while the girl hugged her. This must be what it feels like to be a mother, she thought, to have someone love you unconditionally because they need you and respect you and hold you up as a role model. Her heart was absolutely clubbing with happiness.
“You mean it, don’t you?” Casey finally managed, stepping back to look into Tess’s face.
“Yes, I mean it. I’ve already talked to my producer and he’s setting up a recording session for the first week of June, right after you graduate. I talked to your father about it last night and he’s agreed to let you come and stay with me until you can find a place of your own in Nashville.”
Casey turned to Kenny, amazed, her face streaming tears. “You did? Oh, Daddy, did you really? I love you so much!” She flung herself against him and gave him the same unfettered stranglehold she’d bestowed on Tess. “Thank you, thank you!” She kissed him flat on the mouth, then bounded away as the initial shock turned into excitement. “Oh, my gosh, I can’t believe it! I’m going to Nashville!” She grabbed Faith’s face and kissed her, a fast smack, square on the mouth. “I’m going to Nashville, Faith! Nashville! I’m going to sing with Mac on a record!” She began bouncing around the room like a bumper car. “I’ve got to call Brenda and tell her. And Amy! No, wait a minute, I’d better sit down for a minute … my stomach feels funny.” She dropped to her chair and grabbed her belly, shut her eyes, sucked in a breath and put a hand on her chest. “Oh, my God,” she whispered again, “Nashville.”
While Faith enjoyed Casey’s reaction, Tess glanced over at Kenny on her right. He was wearing a smile with the most bittersweet edge she had ever seen. “I think you’ve made my daughter somewhat happy,” he said in dry understatement.
Everyone laughed and Faith refilled tea glasses. “I think this calls for a toast.”
The four of them touched the rims of their thick amber tumblers while Faith said, “To Wintergreen’s next star.”
Kenny added quietly, “And to Tess for making it possible.”
His eyes met hers over the rims of their glasses as they drank, but their gazes dropped discreetly before the others. In that moment, however, she understood what it took for him to add those words and she admired him for giving Casey her freedom against so many of his own reservations.
When they lowered their glasses, another awkward moment passed, with Kenny and Tess trying to avoid eye contact with each other. “Well,” she said, filling the void, “I’ve certainly managed to ruin your supper, haven’t I?”
“Ruin it!” Casey yelped. “Are you kidding?”
Kenny pushed away his plate, and said, “We can eat anytime.”
Faith added, “That’s for sure, but will you stay for some blueberry cobbler, Tess?”
“Oh, yes, please,” Casey added. “You can’t desert me now. I’ve got a million things I want to ask you!”
Tess stayed for cobbler, pushing aside the ice cream and eating mainly the berries. Sometimes she and Kenny ex changed unavoidable glances, but they both did a convincing job of hiding any inchoate feelings.
When the meal was finally finished, Casey insisted Tess come up to her room and listen to a song she’d been working on with her guitar. Not that she expected Tess to record it, she explained, but would she come up and listen anyway, because if Casey was going to Nashville she might as well find out right now if she had more than one song in her or if she was going to be just a one-song composer.
Tess spent a half hour in Casey’s room, and during that time she learned that the girl definitely had more than one song in her. She also discovered that Kenny still used his old upstairs bedroom, and that the one downstairs was called “Faith’s room.” Casey called it that as they passed it on their way upstairs. “That’s Faith’s room,” she said offhandedly. Then at the top of the steps, “And that’s Dad’s. This is mine.”
When Tess left, via the kitchen, Kenny and Faith were just finishing up the supper dishes. She was washing and he was drying.
“Well, guess I’ll be getting back home. I’ve left Casey composing upstairs. By the end of the night she’ll probably have enough new material to fill two albums of her own.”
Faith turned off the water and Kenny laid down his dish towel on the countertop.
“I’ll see you out,” he said.
“Oh, no, you don’t have to bother.”
“It’s no bother.”
They went out through the porch, leaving Faith tidying the kitchen. The door slammed behind them and he followed Tess toward the alley. They walked more slowly than advisable, given that his girlfriend was in the house behind them, and the evening light ample beneath the marbled gold sky.
“Well, it’s done now,” he said. “She’s going to Nashville.”
“Why do I feel like I’ve dealt you a low blow?”
“I’ll get over it.”
Tess was conscious of his body heat warming her left shoulder blade and the fact that in all likelihood Faith was watching them through the window beside the kitchen table.
“If it’s any consolation, I know how hard this is for you, and I admire you for how you’re handling yourself.”
“It’s not much consolation. I’d prefer she do anything else.”
“Yes, I know that. I’ll do my best for her, Kenny, I promise you. Thanks for letting her go.”
They had reached the alley. When she turned to face him she made sure there was plenty of space between them. Her shoulder blade felt suddenly cold. He stood his distance, with his hands in his back pockets, as if in an effort to keep them off her.
“Faith is really quite wonderful,” she said with utter sincerity.
“Yes, she is.”
“The two of you look like you’re very well suited.”
“That what you came over for, to see how we’re suited?”
She wasn’t sure how to answer, and finally chose ambiguity. “What if I said yes?”
“Then I’d probably ask what the hell you’re after.”
“And I’d probably answer, I don’t know, Kenny. And that’s the honest truth. I don’t know.”
He searched her eyes while she worried about Faith watching from the house and found herself listing the things she’d grown to like about him. Somewhere in the yard a robin was repeating his one-note song the way they’ll do when a sprinkler is going. And in the house on Tess’s side of the alley two main floor windows faced this direction. Kenny gripped himself through his back pockets while the tension built between them, and finally he released an immense gust of breath and let his head hang. “Jesus, why do I feel like I’m back on that school bus again?”
The time was getting long. Certainly Faith would be wondering what was keeping him.
“Listen, you’d better go back in.”
“Yeah, I’d better go back in,” he said with a note of irony, lifting his head again.
But neither of them moved.
Just like last night in the car, their reluct
ance to part kept them anchored face-to-face a moment longer.
Finally he whispered, “What are you trying to do to me, Tess?”
They both knew that her relationship to Casey connected her to him as well. There were bound to be times in the future when he would come to Nashville to see his daughter.
She took a decisive step backward. “I have to go,” she said. “I’ll stay on my side of the alley from now on. I’m sorry, Kenny.”
When she turned she discovered she was backed up against Faith’s car and had to swerve around the tail end of it to cross the alley.
The week waned. Casey came over every day after school but Tess avoided Kenny and the backyard when she knew he was around. She helped Mary with her physical therapy and they seemed to argue about everything. Burt called on Friday from Omaha. Southern Smoke had played Stillwater, Oklahoma, Wichita, Kansas, and would end up back in Nashville the same week Tess returned. The two of them set a date at the Stockyard Café on Tuesday of the week they got back home.
On Sunday Mary announced she wanted to go to church and hear Tess sing. She’d been stuck in the house for a whole week and it was time she got out.
Tess was loading up her wheelchair when Kenny came out of his house and called, “Wait! I’ll help you with that!” He was all dressed for church and looking hunky enough to set her heart beating at a faster clip.
“I thought you were gone already,” she said as he lifted the wheelchair effortlessly into the trunk.
“No. I always leave at twenty to.” He slammed the trunk and brushed his palms together, avoiding her eyes. Instead he looked at the house. “Do you need any help getting her in the car?”
“No, she’ll do it herself.”
“All right, then. See you there.” Heading for his garage, he whistled shrilly through his teeth and Casey came flying out the back door. “Hurry up!” he yelled. “We’re going to be late!”
Casey shouted a greeting as she ran “Hey, Mac!” and a minute later they were gone.
So, she thought. Mister Iceman. He couldn’t resist running out when he saw me, but he didn’t like himself for doing it, so he took it out on me.
Twenty minutes later she was singing “Holy, Holy, Holy” while he directed. It sent shivers up her spine and broke down the icy barrier he’d placed between them. Their eyes met too often, and locked too intently for them to remain aloof to one another. They learned, both of them, that sharing a worship service with someone on this level draws you closer, whether you want that to happen or not.
By the time she sang “Beautiful Savior” he had removed his suit jacket, loosened his tie and rolled up his white sleeves. Something phenomenal happened between them when she sang her solo. Something irreversible.
In the vestibule after the service she was mobbed. Word had spread that she was singing there today and the congregation had swelled beyond anything the church had ever seen, augmented by many who were regulars at other churches around town. Everyone praised Tess, asked if she was singing at her niece’s wedding (she was not), and wanted to know if it was true that Casey Kronek was going to sing on one of her records. Answering that question was fun. Casey stuck by her, even after Tess had joined the rest of her family, who had rolled Mary down the ramp to the broad flat front step where the entire troop had gathered. Though some preferred the earlier service, they had all come for the later one today, and she was touched by their show of support. Nieces, nephews, brothers-in-law and sisters all had hugs and pride in their eyes. Except Judy, who seemed willing to bask in the reflected glow of having a famous sibling, but still could not bring herself to offer a compliment. Instead, she hung on the fringe of the family while Reverend Giddings approached and engaged Tess in a prolonged handclasp. He was grinning so broadly his eyes nearly disappeared.
“I cannot thank you enough, young lady. Splendid job. Splendid! You certainly brought them in.” He leaned closer and spoke in an undertone. “And unless I miss my guess there are some pretty empty churches around town this morning.” After a final hard squeeze he released her hand and said to someone behind her, “Very nice job, Kenny, and a particularly fine choice of music.” She had not known he was there, and turned to watch Reverend Giddings shake his hand and clasp his arm. Again the minister lowered his voice, including them both in his confidence. “The ushers tell me the collection plate was overflowing, which bodes well for the annual pledges. Thank you both again.”
Though surrounded by a sea of familiar faces, Kenny and Tess became attuned only to each other. They stood in the sunlight close enough to pick out the shadings in each other’s eyes, the black flecks in her amber ones, the green ring within his brown. He had reclaimed his suit jacket but his tie remained loosened and his collar button freed. She wore a thin skirt and blouse of brick-colored silk that fluttered in the breeze. They stood so close it sometimes touched the legs of his trousers. At her throat hung a tiny gold rose on a chain, and on her ears tinier rosebuds, jewelry she thought he’d prefer. She was carrying a white clutch purse too small to hold sunglasses. She lifted it to shield her eyes and he stepped over to create a shadow. It was his day away from Faith, a day he did as he wished.
“This was probably the best Sunday I’ve had since I started directing,” he told Tess.
“Why?”
“You.”
She hadn’t expected his directness. It loosened her resolve as well.
“Something got me … here.” She laid a wrist across her heart.
“I could tell.”
“Something got you, too, didn’t it?”
“Yes. Something got me, too,” he confided.
“It’s how it used to be when I was little … the music, my family, the familiar church … I don’t know.”
“I understand now more than ever why you’ve succeeded the way you have. You have charisma.”
“You didn’t seem to think so this morning when we met in the alley.”
“Oh, that.”
“I thought you were mad at me.”
“I’m sorry about that. I get moody sometimes.”
“Don’t do that again, okay? Don’t get icy like that.”
“I’m sorry. I thought it would be best, considering … well …” He stopped himself short of saying “Faith.”
“We can meet in the alley and say hello without hurting each other, can’t we?”
“You’re right. It won’t happen again.” Without warning he did what he could not do when they were alone. He took her in a quick embrace and kissed her temple. “I’m sorry,” he told her quietly. She had the swift sensation of bumping against his body, of sandalwood scent on his skin, of the touch of his lips at her ear. “Thank you for singing today. I’ll never forget it, Tess.”
As quickly as he’d taken her, he set her free. Casey appeared and put an arm around each of them. “Hey, Tess, you want to go horseback riding this afternoon? Perfect day for it.”
Linked by the girl, they stood in a trio while Tess tried to hide the fact that she was rattled.
“Gosh, I don’t know if I should leave Momma alone.”
“Can’t somebody else stay with her for a few hours? You need a break now and then, too.” Before Tess could answer, Casey spun away and nabbed the first family member she encountered. It was Renee.
“Hey, Renee, can somebody stay with your momma this afternoon so Tess can go horseback riding with me?”
“Sure. I can,” Renee replied. “What time are you leaving?”
Apart from the others Tess asked Kenny, “Are you going, too?”
His eyes came to her and lingered, but he cleared his throat and answered, “No. Better not.”
She hid her disappointment as Casey returned, insisting, “What time do you want to leave?”
“Whenever you want to.”
“One o’clock? I need to be back in town by four or so.”
The plan was set.
They took Casey’s pickup, which was so old it had rear wheel wells that stuck out like
a bulldog’s shoulders. Every time they went over a bump, dust rose from the junk littering the dash. But the radio worked, and they either sang country songs or talked about them all the way out to Dexter Hickey’s.
The place looked different by daylight. The white fence needed painting and the yard needed mowing, but the surrounding countryside was breathtaking. The ranch was framed by a great stretch of undulating grassland dotted by apple trees that had been cropped low by the horses. Wild buttercups bloomed in patches of yellow across the verdant pasture. To the west, north, and east trees rimmed the valley and rusty red trails, worn by the horses, snaked into the woods from one hub, like mountain highways on a map.
Inside, the stable was clean and the tack room orderly. Dexter had left a mare named Sunflower in a box stall for Tess with instructions to turn her out after they were done riding.
Casey asked, “You know how to saddle a horse?”
“It’s been a while.”
“No problem. I’ll do it.”
When Sunflower and Rowdy were saddled, the women mounted up and walked the horses down the length of the barn, the syncopated hoofbeats clacking on the concrete until they reached an earthen ramp leading outdoors.
In the sun the horses’ hides gleamed and the heat from their bodies lifted their scent. Casey led the way along the fence to one of the worn trails that headed toward the rippling woods.
She turned in the saddle and asked, “How does it feel?”
“Like I’m going to hurt tomorrow. I’m not used to it.”
“We’ll take it slow at first.”
“Fine.”
Casey was a natural on horseback; she dressed and rode like a saddle tramp, in old jeans, worn cowboy boots, a faded plaid shirt and a stained cowboy hat. She sat her horse straight as a picket with one hand on her thigh.
Tess, on the other hand, dressed and rode like a tenderfoot. She wore jeans and a lopped off T-shirt, shiny cowboy boots, a baseball cap and her oversized sunglasses. She rode as if unsure this was a good idea.
When they reached the spread of buttercups Casey yelled back, “Hey, Tess, guess what. I got a date tonight.”
“Good for you. Anybody special?”