“Mmhmm,” she said, clearly not buying any of my bullshit. “Well, I’ll tell you this. If I don’t see your behind tomorrow by noon, I’m canceling my party,getting on a plane to Tennessee, and personally ripping that guitar out of your hands and burning it to ash. Do you hear me?”?
I gave my eyes a slight roll, but in true Eunice Wilder fashion, she could not be fooled.
“And don’t roll your eyes at me. I’m serious. This means a lot to me, and I haven’t seen you but one time in ten years. That’s a long time for a momma to go without seeing her baby.” She was laying the sugar on, and thick.?
“I know it. I’m sorry, Momma. I’ll be there. I told you, I wouldn’t miss it for the world. After all, it’s only once that you turn thirty-five. Again.”?
She let out a low, slow laugh. I had her back in a sweet spot where she no longer wanted to strangle me, for now. If I only had that effect on the other women in my life…
“Bring that Ryan with you. He seems sweet. And judging from the five minutes I had to wait to get through to you, he may need to step away from the video games for a bit,” she added, clinking her glass again.?
“Deal. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I put my guitar back in the corner of the room, looking out over Nashville, feeling that familiar tug in my heart again. The one that showed up when I felt like I was happy where I was, but it never truthfully felt like home.?
Like I wasn’t truly where I was supposed to be. Homesick for a place that no longer existed.?
Forsomeonethat no longer existed.?
“I’m glad to hear it, sweetie. We can’t wait to see you. We all have so much to tell you.”?
After ripping Ryan’s headset off, hollering at him for answering my momma’s call, and de-escalating the fist fight that almost ensued, I retreated to my room to get my suitcase together.?
I scanned my closet for a few things to pack—something a bit more polished than my usual t-shirts, jeans, and boots. I limited myself to three days’ worth of clothes, though, to avoid the temptation of staying any longer.
Once I had everything situated, I grabbed a huge, industrial-sized garbage bag and began picking up the beer bottles strewn around the apartment, left over from the three-day party that ended sometime around six that morning.?
I elbowed my way into Ryan’s room, eyeing him as he packed amonths-worth of clothes into a suitcase.?
“We have a maid, Lee. What are you doing?”?
Letting the cans and bottles clank against each other as I dragged the now almost full bag behind me, I shot him a look. “You know I hate her having to pick up after one of these stupid ass parties. We’re never going to get this next album written if we keep fucking around.”?
“Your insane writer’s block and severe addiction to finding your next ‘muse’ in one of the many, many gorgeous women who grace our condo is the reason why we can’t write the album. Not the parties. Those should help. Pontoon-rock is really popular right now. We should write about beer,” Ryan nodded, tossing four bathing suits into his suitcase.
I finished cleaning up the mess cluttered about his room and brought the clinking bag down to the dumpster. From the alley, I could hear tourists already starting to kick their party up a notch, exploring the food and the bars of Nashville, snapping pics and writing stories only these streets, this city, could provide the backdrop for.?
Unlike my snoozy, laid-back hometown of Savannah, Nashville was always ready for a good time. And if Ryan was to be believed, this city was where I’d find someone new to write songs about. Someone who could reach in, take another piece of my heart, and help me find the words again.
Because, truthfully, I hadn’t been able to write a single, solitary hit since my first album.
The one I’d poured my soul into when the very first, and biggest, piece of my heart was yanked out of my chest—leaving me hollow and wordless ever since.
Chapter three
MAGNOLIA
Iwas sprawled out on the floor when my phone buzzed. It was Sutton calling for the thirty-fifth time today—only this time, she wanted to FaceTime.?
“What?” I growled while Pickle made biscuits on my head, purring madly.?
“What the hell are you two doing? Are you day-drunk? God, is the cat drunk?”?
“Pickle is pizza drunk,” I hiccupped, trying to untangle her from my hair so I could sit up. “I am… Yeah, I’m kinda drunk. Do you think Lee is going to come home for the party?”?
Her eyes went as big as saucers, and then her face fell into a frown. “Good Lord, Magnolia. Why on earth are you worried about that? What would it matter?”?
“I’m not worried. Okay. I’m not,notworried. I’m just… Don’t you think this whole thing is weird?” I grabbed both of Pickle’s little paws and yanked them from my head, ripping a few chunks of hair out of my scalp as I tried to escape her death grip.
“Pickle! Leave your momma alone!” Sutton half-laughed, half-yelled at the cat before letting out a long breath in anticipation of one of her infamous, long-winded “get Magnolia off the bridge she’s about to leap off” speeches.?
