Run Rose Run(67)
“How many songs you got now?” Ethan asked.
“Eight that are rock-solid,” AnnieLee said. “Two more that are so-so. I’m getting there.” And then, with a half-mad gleam in her eye: “Unless I scrap everything and start all over again.”
“Don’t you dare,” Ethan said. “And no more caffeine for you tonight, okay?”
AnnieLee nodded, slathering butter on a biscuit and grumbling about bossy know-it-alls.
When they were done eating, she walked over to the battered spinet piano that the previous renters had left behind. “Check this out,” she said, and played a handful of high, tinkling notes that reminded Ethan of the opening bars to Patsy Cline’s “Crazy.”
She stopped and turned around. “See? Isn’t that nice? I don’t know what to do with it yet, but one of these days we’ll have to get back down to the studio. We can put Stan on keyboards.”
Ethan wanted to sing with AnnieLee again almost as much as he wanted to pull her into his arms. But neither of those things seemed likely to happen any time soon.
“I like it,” he said, “but seeing as how you won’t have a piano with Kip Hart, let’s work on that other lick you were talking about.”
They parked themselves on her couch and worked through songs until 2 a.m., when Ethan stood up and announced that he was going to the bathroom and then straight home. When he came back into the living room less than five minutes later, he found AnnieLee asleep against the couch’s armrest, surrounded by lyrics, crumpled papers, and crumbs from Arnold’s Country Kitchen biscuits.
He stopped and looked at her for a while. He’d never seen her so still, so peaceful. The chorus of his song came to him in the silence.
Lost and found, I’m safe and sound
No more drifting aimlessly, I’ve settled down
Then he carefully picked her up and carried her into her bedroom, where he took off her boots and covered her with a blanket. Without opening her eyes, she burrowed into her pillow, breathing slowly and calmly, as if she didn’t have a care in the world.
He wished that could be true for her. But he knew that it wasn’t.
He bent down to kiss her smooth, untroubled forehead, and then he quietly let himself out, making sure the door was locked behind him.
Chapter
57
On the day of the Kip Hart show, AnnieLee woke before dawn. A light, misty rain was falling. She poured herself a glass of orange juice and paced her cottage as she drank it, feeling nerved up and jangly, like an animal about to be freed from its cage. Though Ethan had come to visit every day for the past month, she’d been working so hard that she’d barely left her living room.
Even if everything else goes wrong tonight, she told herself, at least you’ll be out of the damn house.
She was making her fiftieth circuit of the room when she heard the doorbell chime. She opened the door. Ethan Blake stood on her stoop, his car keys dangling from one hand and a tray with two giant takeout coffees in the other.
“The way Gladys runs, it’s about three hours away without traffic,” he said.
“Ruthanna loaned me a car, remember?” AnnieLee said. “I’m good.”
Ethan scuffed his toe against the doormat that said WELCOME Y’ALL. “You ever been to Knoxville before? The coliseum’s in a weird part of town, and parking might be confusing.”
“If you’re suggesting that I’m liable to get lost, Ethan Blake, let me remind you that I’ve been on this earth for two and a half decades and I’m not an idiot.”
“Believe me, I know you’re not an idiot, AnnieLee,” he said. “I guess I just thought you might like a little company.”
She softened then, telling him that she appreciated the offer, but she needed to do everything herself today. What she didn’t say was that it’d be impossible to call up all the fearlessness and shamelessness she needed if Ethan came with her. Having just herself to rely on was what she was used to. And it was the only way tonight would work.
He looked disappointed. “At least take the coffee,” he said. “Don’t drink it on an empty stomach, though. This is Maya-strength brew.”
“Aye, aye, Captain,” she said, grinning.
He didn’t smile back. Instead he reached out and gently brushed her bangs from her eyes. “Good luck tonight,” he said. “I’ll be thinking about you.”
Impulsively she leaned forward and kissed him on his freshly shaven cheek. “Thank you,” she said. And then she ducked back inside, closing the door behind her and hoping she wasn’t crazy to turn him away.
Five hours later, she was standing in the wings at the Knoxville Civic Coliseum, listening to Kip Hart and his band run through their sound check as roadies and technicians finished assembling the stage for the night’s big show. Two videographers kept their cameras pointed at Kip as he played “Runaway River,” and then his party number, “Chasin’ Tailgate.”
AnnieLee couldn’t help tapping her feet to that one, and she sang the chorus as she hurried back to her dressing room to get ready for her performance.
You and me in a parking lot
Let me pull you close, let me show you what I got
She laughed as she ran a brush through her hair. What a stupid song! And yet…it was catchy; she couldn’t deny it. It almost made her want to dance.