The heat of the tightly packed venue, aided by the bright footlights, immediately causes me to regret not putting my hair up. I can feel the sweat pooling already. The discomfort is luckily overshadowed quickly by the warmth of the people’s surprised gasping and cheering. As more and more people realize what’s going on, the volume rises to ear-splitting levels. Chris’ bandmates all pretend to bow to me as I walk by, and Chris pulls me into a bone-crushing hug before strumming his guitar and looking back out at the crowd. We wait until the cheers level out before Chris steps up to the mic.
“What do you guys want to hear us sing?” he asks. The responses are jumbled, and we hear everything from an Alan Jackson ballad to an old Williams classic.
Bringing the mic up to my mouth, the crowd hushes to hear what I’m going to say. “Now, I just spoke with Linda, and she wants to hear a song we used to sing way back when.”
Chris’ eyes widen, and he leans away from the mic to ask if I’m okay with it. “Anything for Linda,” I confess for the whole hall to hear. My admission causes a chant for Linda to ring out. Leaning back, I expect to see her and Wyatt in the wings, so I am slightly unnerved as my eyes search open air where I just left them. I turn back to the crowd as Chris picks the guitar and the steady drum beat cuts in.
Chapter 13
Wyatt
MAE HAS DISAPPEARED into character and I’ve been kidnapped by Chris’ wife. No sooner had Mae been engulfed by the light of the spotlight, then Linda stole me away. Shuffling toward the darkness backstage, Linda turns on me quickly. For a moment, all I can hear is Mae and Chris singing together. I immediately feel the melancholy of the song. It’s the softest I’ve ever heard her vocals, but it’s gorgeous.
“This will only take a minute,” Linda starts. Crossing her arms, she looks me up and down. For a moment, I think she’s coming onto me, but then she opens her mouth. “I really don’t want her to get hurt again, Mr. Lucas, and I don’t want to have you killed either.”
I can feel my eyes widen as I try to reign in the conversation. “Ma’am -” I begin, waving my arms in front of me, but she cuts me off.
“No, no, never, ma’am; it makes me feel old.”
“Mrs. Mayfield -”
“Better.”
“I don’t know the full story with her and Trenton -”
She cuts me off again. “Good, you don’t need to in order to treat her right. Mae is her own woman. She’s going to do what she wants, with who she wants. I just want you to know that Chris and I love her like our own daughter. You seem like a nice guy; I just need to make sure your intentions are fair.”
“They are,” I say without hesitation. I’d never enter a relationship if my intentions were anything but upright.
Linda nods once more. “How your relationship progresses is totally up to you both, but you will treat her right. Understand?”
There are so many questions I could ask, but I would be more inclined to ask them of Mae. Linda is still staring at me, so I figure I oughta answer. “I understand.”
“Good,” she says, patting me on the shoulder as she steps around me.
As she moves past me, the song ends and the crowd applauds. I’ve missed it, but maybe now Mae will be free to return to my arms. Instead, she laughs into the mic and asks if they’d like to hear another.
Of course they want to hear another; who wouldn’t?
“Mae,” Chris starts, “remind me where you’re from again?”
Her sultry laugh takes over the room and sends a chill up my spine. “Well, Mississippi man, I’m a good ol’ Louisiana girl.” I can hear the smile in her voice, and I’m glad to know another detail about her that I didn’t before. The fiddle begins as they continue their cute little back-and-forth.
“Let’s go dance, cowboy,” Linda says, wrapping an arm around my back quickly, causing me to jump.
“I’d like to watch her sing, if that’s okay,” I say begrudgingly.
Linda rolls her eyes and scoffs, “You’ll see her better from out there anyway. Besides, Dalton and Raleigh are out thereattempting to dance. Let’s join ‘em and show them what real swing dancing is.”
I don’t even have time to fret over not knowing anything about swing dancing because Linda has whooshed me away to join Mae’s squad without a thought. It’s not that I don’t want to see her better; I do, but sometimes I just can’t stand crowds.
Despite my disdain for tightly packed rooms, I have to admit that the view from the back of the floor is better than the sidelines. From here, I can see Mae’s face and how much she commands the small stage. Linda does her best to lead me through a complicated set of steps. This song is much faster than the first one they sang, and Linda clearly isn’t one to waste a good time.
It’s fun; don’t get me wrong, I just wish it were Mae teaching me. I wish it were she and I swaying gently in my kitchen and vinyl playing with nothing but the refrigerator light to illuminate the way.
My lovely thought is interrupted by the end of the song and the crowd hooting and hollering for another. For a brief moment, I think they might play another, but Mae steps away from the mic and bows instead.
She waves out at the sea of onlookers and then nervously over her shoulder backstage. I swallow, hoping that she’s not looking for me. Her eyes tear into the crowd, and I raise my hand and wave like a nervous kid in school. Somehow she spies me despite everyone else also bouncing up and down for attention. Mae’s scowl quickly disintegrates into a sly smile that I love as she goes to the edge of the stage. Sitting down on the precipice, it looks like she’s going to slip right off and get swallowed by the hands now reaching for her.
