“Hey, y’all,” Mae calls into her open mic, beaming. That same command of the crowd has been passed down so effortlessly. It’s impossible to look away from her. Guitar across her chest, Mae strums as if in thought. “You know, Nashville, I wouldn’t be where I am today without these two incredible people standing next to me.” Her gaze sweeps from the crowd to the Mayfields. “I want to thank these two amazing artists for saving me, truly savin’ me.” She doesn’t let the crowd in on anything past that, instead continuing her speech to her parental figures. “Thank you for allowing me the space to grow, create, and above all,allowing me to share the stage with you for so many years.” There are tears in her eyes as she turns back to the dance hall. “This is in no way a goodbye, but I think it would be appropriate if we sang the very first song we ever wrote together.” She adjusts her capo. “I think it’s rather fittin’.”
Linda takes over before Mae can lose herself further. “Do you guys know the words to a little song called ‘Goodbye Baton Rouge’?” Linda is met with a roar, and together, the three of them break into the ruckus that is the keys heavy honky tonk romp. Chris and Linda recorded it years ago. I think it was the first ever song that Mae had backing vocals on.
I have no idea when they had the time to prepare for this, though the three of them are practically a hive mind so perhaps they didn’t even need it, but they’ve changed the lyrics to fit a hook of “Goodbye Nashville” instead. It’s impressive, and by the end, the whole crowd is stomping and hollering to the new clever lyrics. I’m thankful I caught it on camera—her followers will have a heyday dissecting the changes.
At the end of the song, I expect Mae to make her exit, but I should’ve known better. She rolls right into the next song with the rest of them. Of course she knows the whole band, and while she should be resisting the strain of some of these notes, she doesn’t seem to care. I can tell she’s happy and that’s enough for me. We’ll deal with whatever comes of it tomorrow.
The end of the overrun show finally comes after two more hours of music, as does the time for Mae to release her grip on the world she’s been so comfortable in for so many years. She’s silent as she leaves the Mayfields and their band’s huddle. Sensing her dread, I welcome her into a hug when we reunite. Mae’s one of the toughest people I know; I expect no tears from her, and I receive none.
She pats me on the back twice before pulling away and going to collect her guitar case. Chris and Linda both give her one lasthug, words are exchanged between them in tight embraces, and then Mae is leading me out of the venue.
“Do you want me to drive?” I ask as the hatchback raises for us to stow our equipment.
“I think that would be good,” she wheezes. I wince at the weakness in her voice. It’s going to be a long night of reminiscing.
“Your place or Trenton’s?”
“Mine,” she croaks. She groans and then clarifies, “I need a stiff drink.”
“Let's go get you one,” I answer, slamming down the door and crunching through the gravel toward the driver’s seat.
The drive is more of the same, Mae’s pondering in her own little world, one that only a drink can free her from. I don’t think my own powers will be strong enough for this one, but I suppose I can try. No matter the situation we have found ourselves in the past couple of years, Mae has always opened up to me. We’re a team, and so far, we’re undefeated.
“Want to talk about it?” I ask softly.
“They asked if I wanted to relocate to Texas with them.”
“Woah.” I let the surprise slip from me, and I instantly regret it. “Is that something you want?” I ask, trying my best to cover myself.
“I don’t think so.” She pauses a moment. “I’m just scared that they won’t be in my life as much.” She stares out the windshield for a moment, trying to figure out how to word her emotions. The way she can always reflect and then speak with such maturity is something that always surprises me. “Since the moment they found me, they’ve been there for me. They sheltered me from my mom, and helped to steer me away from a few bad deals… You already know all this, Raleigh.”
“I do, but it’s always good to be reminded. It’s valid to be fearful of all that, especially if you don’t feel like you have thesupport to replace them.” I swallow the rest of my speech. I could be doing more for her, but I also believe that the girl’s got to find her way on her own a bit too.
Catching my hint, Mae attempts to put my worries to rest. “You can’t do everything, Raleigh. I know my lifestyle is a lot. I know Trenton and I have been more distant from you lately. He really wants to focus onusright now and feels that you sometimes interfere.”
My hands tighten on the steering wheel.
“I’m trying my best to make him happy.” She takes a breath, but when I don't respond, she tactfully adds, “But you are one of the best things to come out of this town.”
Through gritted teeth I answer, “Thank you for saying that, Mae. I just want what’s best for you. I know I can be overbearing sometimes but it’s only because I believe in you. We’ve been working twice as hard as everyone else in this damn town, and though those rewards are on their way, I don’t want either of us to mess up the work we’ve put in.”
Mae laughs. “Is that a jab at Trenton?”
I answer as the condominium parking lot gate reads the license plate and lifts the arm. “It’s a jab at Trenton, the label, our working relationship. I just want you to be careful.”
“How could I not be careful when I have you guiding the way?”
“I can only take you so far, kid.”
“Bleh, I hate when you call me that.” I can’t say I love it the most either, but Mae is 10 years my junior, and in so many ways, she is my little sister.
“I can only take you so far, sis,” I correct. “You’re the talent in all this.”
“You sell yourself short. I might be the onstage talent but you’re the brains.” The laughter replaces the sound of the engine as I pull out the keys.
“Let’s go get you that drink,” I say, letting the “k” at the end of the word clink against my teeth. At this point, talking about our career choices has me needing whiskey and coke.
As I shoulder my purse and camera bag, Mae and I exit the car into the well lit parking lot. I toss Mae the keys, and she readies the set to let us into the building. We’re nearly to the door when a voice calls her name. Surprised, Mae glances over at me and I nod toward the door. We start walking faster, but the voice reaches us again. The man to match the voice appears from somewhere in the shadows, and I instinctively step in front of Mae.
