19
1979 - 1980: Nashville, Tennessee
By the beginning of January 1979, Stella and Sally McGee were making enough money with music for Stella to quit working at Boo’s Country Western Bar. They moved into a moderately sized house not far from downtown, and they even bought a car so Sally could go to school in the morning. So Stella and Sally could get around to various gigs, from Nashville to Memphis to New Orleans to Asheville. This was Stella’s one big nonnegotiable. Sally had to graduate from high school at the end of May. After that, their careers could take off fully because the school calendar wouldn’t hold them back.
By this time, Stella and Billy Long were fully and incomprehensibly in love. When Billy went out of town to work in places like Vegas and NYC and Los Angeles, Stella wrote sad love songs about him, waiting for him to return. Sometimes, Sally liked the songs and agreed to sing them, but other times, she said, “This song is your song, Stella. You have to sing this one on your own.”
Sally, too, was in love. But her love wasn’t sorrowful, as her lover, Isaac, was always around. He was frequently at their house, fixing things up for them and talking about the future he was going to build with Sally after Sally graduated from high school and was able to marry. This frightened Stella, obviously. She didn’t want Sally to marry Isaac and forget about their music career. And she really didn’t want Sally to marry Isaac and abandon Stella.
At the end of May, Stella threw an enormous party to celebrate Sally's high school graduation. Everyone they knew from Nashville came, and many of them sang songs and performed. “This is for you, Sally!” they said. Sally looked giddy.
Stella couldn’t stop crying tears of joy. Sally had actually graduated! After all they’d been through, after all they’d escaped from, Sally had made it. It meant that Stella had done precisely as she’d set out to do. Music or no music, Sally was going to be all right.
During a slow dance that night, Billy held Stella tightly, dancing with her and whispering in her ear. “It’s all because of you, honey,” he said. “Sally wouldn’t have made it all the way through if it weren’t for you. This celebration is just as much for you as it is for her.”
Stella whispered back, “It’s all Sally. She did it herself.” But she was touched that Billy recognized this about her.
Billy didn’t know half of what Stella and Sally had escaped from. Stella had told him some of the basics: that their father was cruel, that he’d hurt Sally, that there had been no opportunities for them. But Billy didn’t know that Stella was still technically married.
Now, he whispered in Stella’s ear. “You’re going to be famous, baby. I’m going to make you a star.” Stella shivered and kissed him.
That summer, autumn, and winter, Stella and Sally performed all over Tennessee, Kentucky, Ohio, Indiana, and Alabama. When they weren’t on the road, they were performing in Nashville, night after night, regardless of whether the heat was sticky or if the winter brought outrageous storms. They were making more money than they ever had, all of which Stella kept in a safe in the house, as they didn’t have a bank account.
Now that they had an album out in the world, Billy was doing everything to put them in the big leagues. There was talk of television talk shows, of guest appearances on sitcoms, and of heading to New York City to perform in front of thousands. Billy spent more and more time in Nashville, both because he wanted to nurture Sally and Stella’s career—and because he couldn’t get enough of Stella. Stella was terrified that he was about to propose. He still didn’t know she was married. She still hadn’t exposed herself and her past.
But by the time May of 1980 rolled around, when Stella and Sally McGee were fast becoming household names, there was more that Billy didn’t know. Stella was pregnant with his baby.
More than anything, Stella was terrified of what this baby would do to her future. The timing wasn’t great. She and Sally were about to make their big rush toward fame. They were about to make something of themselves.
Stella guessed that she was maybe six weeks along, if that. She wasn’t sure when she had to tell Billy Long the truth. Sooner was probably better. But what if he hated the idea of having a baby with her? What if he dumped her immediately?
During Juneand July of 1980, Stella could feel her pregnancy strengthening, although she said nothing to anyone and alwaysmanaged to hide her morning sickness. She did go to the doctor to get checked up, but it was a doctor more than an hour outside of the city, one she prayed would be discreet. She didn’t want to impact her growing fame.
Mid-July, Stella and Sally performed at Boo’s Country Western Bar. It felt like coming home. There was a coziness to being on that stage, and to falling into one of Boo’s hugs afterward. He ordered Sally and Stella to sit at the bar so he could feed them properly.
Soon, Isaac came to sit by Sally and chat with her, leaving Stella with her gumbo and a piece of bread. She could hardly touch it. She wished Billy were in town because she had the sudden, insane urge to finally tell him about the baby and ask for his help.
But just then, a woman appeared beside her. She was in her fifties, maybe, with curls spilling down her ears. Her eyes were animated and bright blue. And when she spoke, her English had an accent. “That was very, very beautiful,” she said now, speaking of the music.
“Oh. Thank you.” Stella offered a smile. She was getting used to people complimenting her music.
“Really. I could feel it. This pain.” The woman tapped her chest. “My father was very cruel. He hit me. He hit my brothers and sisters. Back in Germany. It reminded me of him.”
Stella’s eyes widened with surprise. One of their songs, “Man of the Mountain,” was entirely about their abusive father, although she’d thought that she’d hidden the meaning of the song under metaphors. Apparently, this German woman had immediately tapped into the true meaning. Maybe pain was universal. It transcended language.
“I’m sorry to hear about your father,” Stella said softly.
“He is dead,” the woman said.
“That doesn’t make it any easier,” Stella said.
“No, it does not,” the woman said.
Stella didn’t know what to say. It seemed that the woman didn’t want to leave her alone. “Where in Germany do you come from?”
“I am from Munich,” the woman said. “But I no longer live there. I live in Martha’s Vineyard. It’s an island. Do you know it?”
“I’ve heard of it, I think,” Stella said.
