“And the second thing?”
Goldie took a step toward Joe. Pulled him down to her level by his neck. She kissed him. He smelled good. Not like cologne, just good.
She stepped back, and they locked eyes.
“Wow.”
“Now, I’m going to get changed. I have to look like Goldie Hayes for this next bit.”
“Who do you look like now?”
“Elizabeth Gould.”
“Ah, I see. Well, I’ll get the truck ready and call my friend.”
They drove back roads, some she recognized and remembered. Others she didn’t. If Goldie thought she was staying here more permanently, she’d have to get a driver’s license again. But for now, it was a novelty for her to ride in the passenger seat instead of the back, with a screen between her and her driver.
“There’s Greg.”
A man was standing next to an SUV. He didn’t have a uniform on, but he looked official. Joe slowed down and opened his window.
“Hey Greg, thank you for doing this. She walks through the main entrance, and there’s sure to be a scene.”
“No problem, a friend of Hope’s is a friend of mine.”
Goldie had heard Hope was a little more than neighborly with her neighbor. This must be him.
“You’re Hope’s neighbor?”
“That I am, and a big fan of your movies. Honored to help.” He nodded as he said it.
The men around here could be so old-fashioned. It was charming and unexpected.
“Just follow me. I’ll get you backstage. There’s a drop-off area and a service truck area. I think with this, you’re best in the service truck area.”
“Lead the way.”
Joe followed Greg past a drive with a sign marking the mainentrance. Instead, they entered a different drive with a gate. There was also a man checking I.D. Greg said something to him, and then the security guard looked back toward Joe and Goldie. He waved them through.
“Okay, looks like we’re all clear,” Joe said.
Goldie tried to get a good look at the setup for North of Nash. It was a mass of people on the infield of the track, rocking out to the act on the main stage. The stage had a long runway, so the performers could walk out amongst the crowds but not be swallowed by them. Which looked like a real possibility.
The track was surrounded by stadium-style seating, but no one was in those seats. They were all on that infield. In the distance, Goldie spied hundreds of campers and RVs.
“It’s NASCAR here, right, normally?”
“That it is, ma’am. You a fan?”
“I was up for the role of a young Martha Earnhardt, Dale’s mother, a while back. Did my research.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, didn’t get it. They went with Frances McDormand.”
North of Nash was an enormous event. That much was clear. Throngs were crowded around the stage where Luke Brush was performing, currently.
“Wow, it’s nuts.”
