Country (21 page)

“It's over. Go home. And don't come back here. You can talk to Chase about if he still wants you to open for him.” Bobby Joe looked panicked at that. She had gotten him the job.

“Come on, Sandy,” he pleaded with her. “You know I love you.”

“No, you don't. You treat me like shit, because you're jealous. Go find someone else to treat mean. We're finished.” He got up off the couch then and hesitated. He made a sloppy pass at her, trying to get amorous and pull her toward her bedroom, and she pushed him away. “I don't need garbage like you in my life.”

“Go fuck yourself, Sandy!” he shouted at her as he walked to the door and yanked it open. “I don't need you either.” He slammed the door behind him, and Sandy walked to her room and lay down on the bed. She knew she had done the right thing, and she wouldn't miss him. He had been awful to her, and Chase was right. She didn't deserve it. No one had a right to treat anyone like that, drunk or sober. He'd been doing it for a long time, and she'd let him. He'd never laid a hand on her, but had beaten her up with his words, and tore her down every chance he got, to make himself feel better. She wouldn't miss him.

She lay there for a long time, thinking about what he'd said, and she never looked at her phone again that night. She fell asleep on her bed, with her clothes on. And she never saw the text from Michael. And she forgot about her phone the next day when she went to see Chase.

She told Chase about Bobby Joe the next morning, when she saw him sitting at the pool. He was reading the Sunday paper.

“I broke up with Bobby Joe last night,” she said, sitting down on a chair next to him. She seemed okay, but a little tired. She'd been up late, and she'd barely slept after he left.

“Are you all right with it?” he asked with a look of concern, and she nodded.

“Yeah, I am. He's been treating me like dirt forever. I kept thinking it would get better, but it didn't. He was nice in the beginning, when he wanted a job, opening for you.” She shrugged, and Chase smiled.

“I guess I need to start auditions for a new opening band. I was tired of him anyway. He plays the same old stuff every time. I'll have Charlie let him know.” Charlie was not only the drummer, but he also hired the opening acts, with Chase's approval. He was leaving, but still dealing with the other band members until he left. “Bobby Joe's a nasty piece of work. I'm glad you're done with him. Time to move on.” He didn't say a word about Michael, and neither did Sandy. And it didn't make any difference anyway, she reminded herself as she dove into the pool a few minutes later. She was free now. But he wasn't. At least Bobby Joe was gone. She was glad. He was a jerk. And she knew she had hung on to him longer than she should. She'd been afraid to let him go.

Amanda and Michael visited three houses on the same street in Buckhead that Saturday. Two of them were enormous, with extensive wings and grounds, and the last one had five bedrooms. All of them were serious family homes, and just looking at them with her made Michael nervous and confirmed everything he thought.

“So when are you two getting married, or are you already?” the realtor running the open house at the last home asked them with an Alabama drawl.

Amanda smiled at the question, and Michael felt sick as he wondered what she would answer. He didn't say a word, which was often his way of dealing with questions he didn't like. And he didn't like that one. He had told her he wasn't ready.

“We're just looking,” Amanda said blandly, and smiled
conspiratorially
at Michael. She was being coy, and as they drove away, she was excited. “Oh my God, do you believe how gorgeous that house is?” She acted like she was ready to move in, with or without him, or if she had to drag him there by the hair.

“Are you insane?” he finally exploded. “Did you see the price? Do you know what I make? And I'm not putting all my dad's insurance into that house, or asking my mom to help. We'd need four kids to fill that house.”

“It's a great investment,” she said calmly. Her mantra.

“So is Buckingham Palace. I can't afford it. You should marry Prince Harry. And we don't need a house like that, or any house. We're not getting married.”

“Not now. But one day. Right?” She gazed at him directly as she asked the question, and suddenly he thought of what he had said to Sandy only a week before. That he couldn't see himself married to her, or having children with her. Now or later. He had just never said it to her, and he'd only been sure about it for the past few months, when she'd started pressuring him about a house. At first he thought he wasn't ready. But now he knew she was the wrong girl, which was very different. He had never been sure of that before. Now he was. He pulled the car over and put it in park, and looked at her long and hard. And he spoke clearly and firmly when he finally did.

“No, Amanda. Not one day. Never. I can't. We'd be miserable together. We don't want the same things in life.”

“Of course we do. You're just scared to buy a house. Everyone is when they buy their first house.”

“I don't want to marry you,” he said simply. “Ever. It's not right. You need someone more like you. I'm never going to be that person. You need a guy like your father.” He was all about money, ambition, and power. Michael wasn't. He was more like his mother, oblivious to superficial values.

Amanda sat staring at him for a long moment, and set her lips in a thin line. “Take me home.” He started to drive her back to her place, which she rarely went to, and then he felt like a monster when he saw she was crying. He pulled over again, and put his arms around her.

“I shouldn't have pushed you about the house. We can wait, Mike. I just wanted to get us started. I'm in no rush.” She didn't want to lose him. He was a great catch, she had made her mind up about him three years before, and still felt the same way. She was convinced he had a great future ahead of him and would do well, especially with her behind him.

“Yes, you are in a rush,” he said honestly. “And that's okay for you, but it isn't for me. I just realized recently that I don't want to marry you. I don't think it's right for either of us. I wanted to tell you, but I didn't know how.”

“We don't have to get married for a long time,” she negotiated with him, and he shook his head.

“No,” he said firmly. “You need someone else. And so do I.” She looked panicked then as she heard what he said.

“Is there someone else?” He could be honest with her, and he was glad he had gone no further with Sandy the week before, and had been truthful with her about Amanda.

“No, there isn't.” He didn't add the words “not yet.” She didn't need to hear them. And it was beside the point. All that mattered was that he knew he didn't want a life with her. He wasn't even sure he loved her. And he wasn't sure if Amanda even cared. She wanted a lifestyle, and an investment, more than the man who went with it. His mother had been right all along.

He drove her home then and stopped outside her building on Cheshire Bridge Road. She got out slowly and looked at him through the window. “Why don't we think about this, Mike? You panicked. Let's give it some time.” He already had. Three years. Long enough to know what he didn't want, and with whom. He shook his head as he looked at her, not knowing what else to say.

“I'll drop your stuff off this week” was all he could think of. Amanda looked shocked as he drove away. She let herself into her building then, ran upstairs to her apartment, and threw herself onto the bed. But she had to call her father and tell him what had happened.

“I always knew he was the wrong guy,” her father said calmly. “No guts. No ambition.” It was a harsh thing to say about Mike. He worked hard, had a good job, and was a nice boy. “Good riddance,” her father said roughly, and Amanda felt sad as she hung up. She loved him, and thought he loved her too. She always believed they wanted the same things, but they didn't. And maybe her father was right, and Michael. They both said she needed a man like her father. And when she thought about it, she knew they were right. She wanted a guy who wanted one of those big houses in Buckhead, and would kill himself to get it for her. A man who wanted to stretch and grab the brass ring and win the prize. Amanda wanted all the prizes, but not necessarily the guy. It wasn't about love for her. It was about power. And that wasn't Michael.

Sandy never saw the message Mike had sent her from the bar until late Saturday, when she fished her phone out from between the couch cushions where Bobby Joe had thrown it the night before. She answered it just saying that she was thinking about him too, and hoped he'd had fun the night before. But he didn't answer. When he saw her text, he was sitting in his apartment, thinking about Amanda and what had happened that day. He felt empty and alone every time he thought of Amanda. He wasn't sure how or why it had unraveled so quickly, but a three-year relationship had ended. It was something to think about, and he needed time to mourn it. He didn't want to just reach out to Sandy, or tell her what had happened, as though he could end one relationship and start another five minutes later.
Hi…I'm free now…let's go play.
He owed Amanda more respect than that, so he didn't respond to Sandy.

He packed Amanda's things in boxes—the clothes she'd left at his house, her books, her tennis and gym clothes, a sculpture they'd bought together. Three years of memorabilia that were at his place and not hers. It took him an hour to gather it all up, and another hour to pack it. Three years in two boxes. And he called his mother that night and told her. He sounded sad.

“I'm sorry, baby,” she said to her son, and she meant it. Stephanie had never liked her, but he had, and that was enough. She was sorry for the disappointment and his aching heart. He sounded very unhappy and a little shocked.

“I don't know what happened. All of a sudden, I just had to tell her. I only figured it out a few weeks ago. She's been pushing me to buy a house. I just didn't want to do that, but she kept pushing. I nearly broke out in hives when we looked at that house.” Stephanie smiled at what he said.

“One day you'll find the right person.”

Amanda called Michael that night and sounded as shell-shocked as he was. But she didn't argue with him, or beg to get back together. In her heart of hearts, she knew he was right. She reminded him to put her skillets in with her other things. She had paid for them and wanted them back. And the new microwave she had just bought for his apartment. In the end, it came down to that. Frying pans and a microwave and a box of old stuff. She reduced it all to the merely practical. He wondered if she'd even miss him. He felt empty when he hung up. Three years of his life had just gone down the garbage disposal, and he'd flipped the switch. And he knew he should have done it long before.

He went for a run that night to try and clear his head. It helped a little. And he thought about Sandy when he got back. He wanted to call her, but he knew it was too soon. He needed time to put Amanda behind him and wipe the slate clean. And when he went to bed, he dreamed of Sandy. They were buying a big house, and Amanda was the real estate agent, and she kept pushing. In the dream, he shouted at her, and then he and Sandy ran away, laughing, with Amanda shouting after them. The dream seemed clear to him when he woke up. Amanda was the saleswoman, trying to sell him a house he didn't want. And Sandy was the girl of his dreams.

In the end, Michael waited a week, and then decided to call Sandy. She had sent him a couple of texts, which he hadn't answered, and he felt guilty about it. It was a few days before the Fourth of July weekend. He had dropped off Amanda's things and hadn't heard from her. She had moved on, without sentiment or regrets. He was disappointed, but he wasn't devastated or heartbroken, which told him he'd done the right thing. He'd been thinking about Sandy a lot. She hadn't told him what had happened with Bobby Joe in her texts. And since she didn't hear from Michael in response, she assumed he was still with his girlfriend. She sounded surprised to hear from him, and was downtown shopping with a friend. But she was as easygoing as ever.

“Sorry I haven't answered. I've been a little tied up here,” he said, feeling awkward at first.

“That's fine. I've been busy too.” She had been sad not to hear from him, but she respected him for not chasing her at the same time, when she knew he had a girlfriend. They'd kissed at the airport, and he had told her he needed to make some decisions. She assumed he had decided to stay with Amanda. “How are you?”

“Fine.” The Braves had been on a winning streak, which everyone in Atlanta was excited about, hoping to get to the playoffs and World Series.

“We're playing a big concert on the Fourth of July. Five big bands. Chase is the lead act, so we've been rehearsing day and night.”

“Sounds intense,” Michael said, thinking of the concert he'd been to when he'd first seen her. “How's the rest of your life?”

“The same. Well, almost. I broke up with Bobby Joe.” That was a major piece of news to him. “He acted like a real asshole. All the time, actually. But he got drunk one night while we were rehearsing, and he was such a jerk, it finally did it for me. Chase just hired a new opening act for the band. That'll really fry his sorry ass,” she said, laughing, and Michael was smiling.

“Yeah, I think so.” He hesitated for an instant and then decided to tell her. “I broke up with Amanda. No new opening band, though.” Sandy laughed.

“What happened?”

“Pretty much what we talked about. I knew I didn't want to marry her, and she backed me into a corner about buying a house with her, and I had to tell her. It's better this way.”

“Why didn't you tell me you two broke up?” Sandy sounded surprised.

“I thought I should wait a little while, out of respect for both of you. But I missed you too much, so I called you today.” He was smiling as he said it. They were both quiet for a minute. It changed things between them, and made things seem more serious than they had been when she went to Atlanta. They were both free now, and she was thinking about it and what it meant. So was he.

She decided to be brave first. “Do you want to come to the Fourth of July concert here?” Her heart was pounding as she asked him and waited for his answer. “You can stay at Chase's. He has a guest room.” She didn't want him to think that she was inviting him straight into her bed. She wasn't. She had taken Chase's advice to heart.

He was thinking about it, but his answer came quickly. He didn't want her to change her mind.

“I'd love it. Are you sure Chase wouldn't mind?”

“No, he'll be fine.” She sounded happy and excited, and so did he. He was going to come down two days before and spend the weekend with them. She told him that Nashville went all out for the Fourth with barbecues, picnics, and a parade, and their concert. There was another one the day before at Opryland. “Come ready to party,” she told him, and he laughed. She was excited when she hung up, but tried to be calm about it, and she told Chase about it the day before Michael arrived.

“Can I use your guest room this weekend?” she asked casually when she saw him at rehearsal, and he looked surprised.

“Sure. Who's coming? Anyone I know?” He couldn't imagine who she wanted there. Once in a while she had a girlfriend come to visit who'd moved away, but they always stayed in the cottage with her. Why not this one?

“Michael Adams.” She tried to sound nonchalant about it, and his eyes grew wide.

“Michael Adams, as in Stevie's son?” She nodded, and smiled. “Is he bringing his girlfriend?” he teased her, and she shook her head.

“They broke up.” He smiled at that with a wicked look.

“My, my…isn't that
interesting…and
you and Bobby Joe broke up too…happy to have him,” he said, and winked at her, and they both went back to work with the band.

He told Stephanie that night.

“I'm having a guest this weekend,” he said benignly when he talked to her after rehearsal. He was tired, but excited about the concert on the Fourth. There was nothing he liked better than playing. He always said he was born to sing and play his guitar.

“Anyone special?” Stephanie asked, wondering if it was some big country music star. He knew them all, and there were a number of them playing at the concert on the Fourth.

“I think so. I think you will too. A young man by the name of Michael Adams. He's coming from Atlanta.” It took a moment to sink in, and then she screamed.

“My Michael? How did that happen?” She had spoken to Michael two days before, and he'd said nothing about it. She was suddenly glad she hadn't decided to go to Nashville too. It would have been harder to explain to Michael about “Laura” a second time.

“Sandy invited him,” Chase filled her in. “He's staying in my guest room, all very proper.” She knew Michael and Amanda had broken up because he had called her about it, but she hadn't heard from him since. And he hadn't mentioned Sandy. But she was pleased.

“Well, I'll be damned.” Stephanie sat on her bed and grinned. “That is very good news indeed. I wonder if he'll tell me.” She suspected he would eventually, but not just yet.

“Well, act surprised if he does. I don't want him to think I'm spying on him.”

“You have to tell me all about it,” Stephanie said, sounding excited.

“Of course. I just wish you were coming too.” He was wistful as he said it.

“So do I,” she said, remembering his kisses. She was planning on going to a barbecue at Brad and Alyson's in Ross over the Fourth. Chase had invited her to Nashville, but she wasn't ready to go back. She still felt she had to make some decisions about her life first.

“Well, let's see what happens now, with these two. Life is funny, isn't it?” She thought about it as he said it. It certainly was. “It's all about fate and destiny, and opening the right door at the right time, and having the guts to walk through it. It's amazing how everything changes in the blink of an eye.” One minute he was all tied up with Amanda, on a straight path toward a marriage Stephanie had thought would make him miserable. And now he was headed in a totally other direction, with a country music singer who sang like an angel. It was like Stephanie taking the road to Las Vegas instead of San Francisco, and then going to Nashville with him. All you had to do was be brave enough to do it. She had been, and now her son was too. She was thrilled.