Six Miles From Nashville (13 page)

“I just want to feel normal
again. I want to fit somewhere,” Betty confessed.

“I guess I’m elected, then. We fit together.”

Chapter
15

She looked down at the sparkle the tiny ring emitted. Johnny had given it to her that day and she pledged herself to him. She couldn’t walk out on him, or should she?

Did something happen to Johnny after he left Mama and Daddy’s house? What if he is hurt or something? He might not have gotten my letter at all!

She pulled out a sheet of notebook paper and wrote another letter. This was one Miss Sweetie’s eyes wouldn’t examine. No one would know she sent it.

Dear Johnny,

Are things alright with you? It has been months since I wrote to you and I haven’t heard a word. I am thinking that you might be hurt or something. Could it be that you are mad at me? I haven’t forgotten you. The ring is still on my finger. Do you want me to take it off?

I am very lonely here. The cafe is doing a lot of business so that keeps me really busy. I am also writing songs with my boss. Some of them are doing well for the Country artist that has taken them to record. Still

She paused and went to the sink to get a dri
nk. It was difficult to lay her heart wide open like that. She sat down and continued.

Still, I miss you and your face. You were so much fun to be with. I could be myself and you seemed to like me. I am not used to being forward like this, but I have to know if you still care.

I can send your ring back to you if you don’t want me anymore. Please let me know by Christmas. You can write a letter or call me. You don’t have to break up with me face to face. I just need to k
now if you are still interested. I do have some things to tell you.

My heart is on tiptoes, waiting to hear what you have to say.

With love,

Betty

She addressed the envelope and ran to the mailbox on the
corner and put it down the chute before she had time to rethink what she wrote.

When she returned to her room, she felt sick to her stomach.
I wish I hadn’t done that.

She sat with paper and pen and wrote:

My heart is on tiptoes

waiting to hear

Do you care for me

or is it what I fear?

The love we once shared

seems so far away.

I need to hear back

before Christmas day.

She got into her bed and sobbed until sleep overtook her tired body. She dreamed of the farm boy and the working man. They were alike and so different. Her heart belonged to Johnny and she sent it in a letter. Would he crush it?

The dream went from a mailbox to a trash can with many disconnected phrases sung by Sonny. First her heart was in the letter, then it was on a platter. What would become of her heart? She ran to retrieve it, but it had already been offered up as a sacrifice. Gage brought it back to her in a gift wrapped box. It looked brand new. He asked her something. What was he saying? His voice was drowned out by Sonny, who was singing her songs.

She awoke with a start just as the sun streamed through her window. Looking at the clock, she realized that she would have to hurry to be able to work with Bill before the breakfast crowd showed up. She threw on her uniform and apron, tied back her hair in a pony tail and washed her face. Today she didn’t have time for any makeup.

She ran toward the door and back to the table where the scratch of a song lay waiting for her. She took it for Bill to work over. He always seemed to know what she wanted to say even when her words were halting on the paper.

Bill already
had his old guitar out working on their last song. It sounded really good with his skilled hands on the instrument. His voice was studio quality. She never understood why the label didn’t offer him a recording contract.

She slipped into the booth and slid the paper in front of him. He continued playing as he read the words. Suddenly he stopped playing and scribbled a few words on the paper and marked out others. He sang the revision as if it were an old song on the radio.

She listened to him with amazement. He took her thoughts and put them to words by adjusting the phrasing on the page. It brought fresh tears to her eyes.

He finished and stared straight into her eyes. “You know, good songs only come out of a lot of suffering. I’d say you were hurting a lot when you wrote this.”

She nodded.

“Why have you been holding out?”

“I haven’t...I just wrote it last night.”

He put his hand on hers and frowned. “I thought you had a good time last night. That
Gage guy was really nice.”

“Yes, I like him. I am just confused.”

“Are you still pining for the farm boy?”

She was startled that he knew of Johnny, but not surprised because Miss Sweetie had no secrets from Bill. “I still love him.”

“Well, it don’t hurt for you to have a good time until he comes around. You didn’t do anything but be a friend to Gage. I would swear to that if need be.”

She nodded. “I wrote another letter to Johnny. I told him I have to hear from him by Christmas.”

“That sounds reasonable.”

Miss Sweetie bustled into the room and to the kitchen to get her apron. Betty leaned close to Bill and whispered, “Don’t tell Miss Sweetie. I don’t want her anxious about this.”

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is.”

Sweetie trotted to the table while tying her apron behind her back. “What are you workin’ on?”

Bill strummed
the guitar and said, “Wait ‘til you hear this one.”

She sat next to Betty and beamed at her talented husband as Betty and Bill sang the new song for her.

Chapter 16

Johnny saw the postmark before he read the return address. He tore the thing open and read. The words streamed off the page and caught him by surprise. Was it really possible that she still cared for him? He got in the pickup truck and slammed the door. He had to get home so that he could give her a call or write to her. The radio was playing loudly as he heard the disc jokey read the latest news.

“The next song coming up is
from a new songwriting team. I am sad to say that last night Bill Wall and Betty Barnes were in a car crash. The car they were in was totaled. Both are in critical condition. Bill’s wife, the third passenger was pronounced dead on the scene. Listen to Sonny as he sings the last song the pair wrote. It is called ‘Tell me by Christmas’. Our prayers go out for this talented songwriting team.”

Johnny’s throat constricted with dryness.
Is that really my Betty?
He threw the pickup into reverse and sped to the house.

“Mom, please put together some clothes for me while I take a quick shower. I am going to Nashville. A friend of mine has been hurt and is in the hospital there.”

He didn’t wait for her to answer. She trusted his judgment and he knew she wouldn’t question his leaving.

When he
emerged from the bathroom with wet hair and damp, clean clothes shoved onto his body, she asked, “How many days will you be gone? There’s only a week’s worth of stuff in the bag.”

“Thanks
, Mom. It’ll do. I can go to the laundry mat if I need to. She may not live that long.”

“She?”

“Betty. She was in a car accident and is in critical condition.”

“Betty,” she
murmured.

He saw the confusion in her face. “If she makes it, she will be my wife.”

He held her in a tender embrace. “We met at the Bible College. It’s okay.”

“I’ll be prayin’.”

“Appreciate it.”

He loped to the pickup and filled it with fuel from the farm machinery pump. He had no time to waste. Nashvill
e was eight hundred and fifty miles from the farm.
Hang in there, Bet, I’m comin’.

Bill sat in a straight-backed chair next to Betty’s bed. He had gotten out of the hospital, arranged, and attended Sweetie’s funeral. Still, Betty remained in a coma. He saw the rumpled young man sleeping on a cot next to her bed. Bill wondered that the hospital staff allowed him to stay in the room with her.

He shifted in the chair. The suit was scratchy and unfamiliar. Sweetie would have laughed
at him for buying it to wear only once. He figured he would be buried in it when his time came, so it wouldn’t be a waste.

Man, how he missed that laugh. Johnny sat up and rubbed his eyes. He saw Bill still in his suit and bandages. He reached over to him and shook his hand. “You should be gettin’ some rest. I can’t believe they let you out so soon.”

“I had to take care of my wife’s arrangements.”

“I am so sorry for your loss.”

“Me too.”

“How did the funeral go?”

Bill slumped and put his elbows on his knees. “Everybody came. They all love...loved her. She was that kind of woman.”

“Betty would have wanted to be there.”

“What did the doctor say when he came in this morning?”

Johnny looked at the motionless girl and spoke in a
low voice, “Her brain is swollen. He thinks she could wake up any time.”

“How is it that they are letting you stay here?”

“I lied.”

“
Lied?”

“Told them I am her brother. You understand, I couldn’t leave her alone in here.”

“I would do the same thing,” Bill agreed.

Johnny went into the bathroom and freshened up. He re
turned in clean clothes and his hair combed. “How did it happen?”

“The crash?”

“Drunk driver.”

“Where is he?”

“T’was a teenaged girl. She didn’t make it. Died yesterday. Her mama and daddy are crazy with grief.”

Johnny looked in his billfold. “I’m gonna get some coffee and a donut. Can I bring some for you?”

“Sounds good.” He shifted to reach for his wallet.

“Let me get it. I wasn’t able to make the funeral. I want to do something for you.”

Bill nodded.

Johnny was gone. Bill sat for a few minutes listening to the clock tick. It seemed that it ticked more slowly each time. He stood and walked over to Betty and took her hand. “Betty,
Sweetie died. I can’t have you dying on me too. Could you please leave the peaceful place you are dreaming in and wake up for me? There are folks here who need you.”

He stared at her for a full minute. It seemed that her mouth twitched a little. “Hon, wake up. Your mama and daddy will be here by tomorrow. You will want to see them.”

A tiny frown creased her brow. Her eyes squeezed tight and soon she blinked. Bill pushed the red button for a nurse. A raspy loud voice answered the call, “Can I help you?”

“She is waking up. I think she is waking up.”

“Be right with you.”

Johnny heard voices in the room and carefully opened the door. “What is it, Bill?”

“Look at her! I think she is gonna wake up.”

Johnny studied the face. Her mouth was tight and not lax as it had been. He saw her lashes flutter, but they didn’t open. The nurse entered the room and checked her over carefully. “She is coming out of it. I think the doctor will want to be alerted. Don’t expect her to wake up today. She has a long road to go down for that. Just keep talking to her and to each other. I will get Dr. Marsh.”

Bill locked eyes with Johnny. “She might wake up today.”

“I just hope she wakes up by Christmas.”

“This Christmas is gonna be...” Bill stammered.

Johnny felt for the man. “After doc comes in, you should go home and get some rest.”