“You’re really going to let this Madeleine Price take photos of you two? It feels invasive.”
“Not when we’re controlling what’s put out there. The photos taken without our knowledge was invasive. This is different. This is me protecting myself and Tyler. And my career.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“I probably don’t, but I’m going to do it anyway.”
“See there. That’s what I’m talking about. You’ve all been so brave. Letting love in even though the past has shown only heartbreak.”
“That’s not true. We all love one another. We love our kids. Love has been here all along. Just not the romantic kind.”
“All that’s changed. I blame the kids and their conniving plan.” Delphine sniffed, but smiled. “Poor Annie. She and I are the only ones left standing.”
If only she could forgive herself for Jon’s death, I thought. I wasn’t sure she ever would, but I wanted it for my friend. I wanted her to have a dance in the kitchen and be reminded she was alive and meant to love someone again. To make a life with a man who would stay. I feared it might never happen. In the middle of all these thoughts, another came. I’d seen a sign on the library’s bulletin board—a grief support group for people who had lost loved ones to suicide.
“Do you think it would help if you went to a support group?” I asked carefully. “It might be nice to be with people who truly understand what you’re going through. I saw a post about a new one starting up—specifically for those grieving a suicide.”
“I don’t know. Talking about my feelings with strangers sounds awful.”
“It’s something to think about,” I said, knowing I shouldn’t push too hard.
Hunter and Tyler returned, stomping into the kitchen and talking about baseball. I closed my eyes for a split second, enjoying the sound of my son’s happy and excited voice.God, please don’t let him hurt my boy.
Or me.
Because Delphine was right. I’d let myself go there, and now there was no turning back.
13
HUNTER
At ten, Seraphina, Tyler and I sat on the couch together as Ivy’s interview aired.
“All right, here we go,” I said.
The opening shot was Wes and Margaret’s living room. Ivy was on the couch in a white sundress and brown cowgirl boots, her hair down around her shoulders. She looked like a star.
The host was a woman named Miranda Cross, known for her interviews of entertainers rather than hard news. She was nearing fifty but looked thirty, although the muscles in her face were oddly immobile. “You’ve just announced that you’re leaving your record label. That’s a significant decision at the peak of your career. What made you do it?”
Ivy was quiet for a moment, looking properly contemplative, before she answered. “Listen, I’ve been grateful for the work the label did for me over the years. Without them, I wouldn’t be where I am. So I want to be clear about that. The reasons for going indie have more to do with me and my values than anything else. I want to work with people I like and respect. You know, kind of the no butt-holes rule. Having Wes Callahan produce this next record just seemed right. He’s good people. He knows how to produce a darn good album. And he listens to me.Lets me be in charge of my music, no one else. So yeah, that’s pretty much it. I don’t want anyone telling me what to do. Just ask my mama. This is nothing new. She says I came out of the womb knowing exactly who I was and what I wanted.”
“Tell us more about the new record,” Miranda said.
“Well, we haven’t done much yet. We have a few songs recorded. A songwriter friend and I have been hunkered down here in a sleepy little paradise of a town. As you know, sometimes we write together. Sometimes we write alone. I had a few songs I wrote last year I want to include on the album. And we’re writing some new songs too. It’s exciting. I haven’t felt so invigorated in a long while.”
“And it’s Hunter Sloan you’re working with?” Miranda asked. “He’s known as one of the hit songwriters in Nashville. Am I right that you’ve known each other a long time?”
Ivy grinned. “Oh, yeah. We go way back. Fifteen years. Which makes me too old to still be single.” She laughed. “Just throwing that out there in case my soulmate’s watching.”
“If your soulmate gets in touch with you because of this interview, please call me,” Miranda said. “Because that’s a story.”
“Will do. Anyway, I met Hunter fifteen years ago at The Meadowlark Café in Nashville. We were at a writers’ round. I was twenty. He was twenty-three. We were both so broke, and one of the regulars bought us each a beer.” She laughed. “He’s a big guy, you know, and his giant elbow knocked his over. All over my dress. My only dress, I might add. So I wasn’t too fond of him at first. But then, he played one of his songs. And I’m telling you, it was like the world stopped in there. No one spoke or moved until he was done. And I knew, right then and there, this was someone I wanted to learn from. Maybe, even though I had no idea it would come to be, collaborate with. After that night we just started hanging out. Writing songs. Trying them out at TheMeadowlark. And then, seven short years later, I got a record deal. The song he sang that night was my first hit.”
The camera moved to Miranda. “Did you have an inkling back then of what your career would look like?”
“Gosh, no. I just wanted to keep the electricity on—singing wherever and whenever I could. All I ever wanted was to do music. When all my dreams started coming true, it took me a while to figure out how to be famous. I started doubting myself. Imposter syndrome’s real, baby.” Ivy laughed. “And Hunter was there for it all. Being my best friend. Writing songs for me. Telling me a thousand times in a thousand different ways why I deserved to be where I was. He’s family. The person I call when a song isn’t working or when I’ve been dumped. Kind of like a big brother.” She looked at the journalist steadily. “I trust him more than anyone in my life, other than my blood family. If my mama sees this, I gotta make sure I say that, or there will be hell to pay when I finally get back home.”
“Dana King’s memoir suggests the relationship was something more than professional. That it contributed to the breakdown of her marriage to Hunter. What do you say to that?”
