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Natalie Spencer stepped onto the county fairgrounds, the late summer sun shining down on her. She could already feel the excitement in the air as she took in the sights and sounds of the fair—crowds of people milling about, carnival games roaring with delight, the smell of sugary treats and fried food wafting through the air.
Natalie slid her hands into the pockets of her khaki shorts as she meandered along, following the crowds of families and teenagers moving from stall to stall, soaking up the atmosphere of the last day of the county fair.Sunlight shined through the trees, splitting rays of light through the green and yellow leaves as they fluttered in the gentle breeze.
The scent of freshly cut grass mixed with the sweet aromas drifting from the local bakery’s stand, and Natalie couldn’t resist the temptation of their cinnamon rolls, although the caramel apples looked heavenly.
The bakery owner, a woman in her fifties whose name Natalie couldn’t remember, made small talk with her while she picked up a pair of tongs and plucked one of the cinnamon rolls out from the display. Natalie had only lived here for a month and a half, but she was already hoping that this could be the town she settled in, that she could finally stop moving.
She thanked the woman and took a bite as she made her way over to the picnic benches and took a seat, finding a spot that let her do some people-watching while she ate.
Natalie suppressed a moan as the rich, fluffy dough practically dissolved on her tongue, savoring the taste of the creamy vanilla frosting as she licked her lips.
The bakery alone was a good enough reason for Natalie to stay. Plus, she was tired of moving.
At first, it had been out of necessity. When she started seeing photographers perched at a park bench or sitting behind their steering wheelon the main street, waiting, trying to blend in but failing miserably, Natalie knew she had to go. The last thing she wanted was to see her photo all over the tabloids again.
And in the last few years, even though her days of being recognized on the street were long gone, she could still feel that shift, when residents of her latest small town somehow found out that they had a former country music star living in their midst.
It was subtle, but Natalie knew.
A few whispers and turning of heads when she went to her favorite coffee shop or farmer’s market.
She could probably stick it out. Let it pass. But she’d just gotten so used to moving that it almost became second nature.
But as she got older, Natalie thought more and more about finding a place to call home for more than just a few months.
A young girl held her father’s hand as she clutched a stuffed unicorn against her chest, an older boy catching up to them as they walked past Natalie. The sleepy little town she was starting to love was coming to life as the sun dipped casting a warm glow across the people strolling by.
She could still remember evenings like this at her own county fair when she was a kid, up on her father’s shoulders, taking it all in. She missed him, even all these years later, but there was a part of her that was thankful that he never saw her downfall.
Looking back, Natalie wished she’d been more present during those two tours, but it had all happened so fast. She went from playing at fairgrounds just like this one when she was seventeen years old to touring the world at nineteen. And her father had been so proud of her, coming to her hometown concert, but he’d passed away three years later.
When Natalie got up to join the steady stream of people moving by, the lights of the Ferris Wheel in the distance shone against the pinks and oranges of the darkening sky.
She’d had a turbulent few years in her early twenties, from getting the call while she was on the road that her father had died to seeing her name all over the tabloids, blaming her for the affair.
Radio stations blacklisted her, and in just a few days, when she was twenty-five years old, she’d gone from living her dream and planning her third tour, to seeing the sales for her third album tank, her calls to Amelia going straight to voicemail.
Natalie was left completely heartbroken.
She spent her twenty-sixth birthday alone in a cabin in the woods in Canada, not giving anyone her location, because at that point, almost a week after the scandal broke, she trusted no one.
But Natalie had been naive to think that she could fall in love with Amelia, one-half of country music’s hottest couple.
Mason was never going to let Natalie get away with it. He turned everyone against her, but Natalie never thought that Amelia would join him in that effort.
Natalie never could have imagined at any point during their seven-month affair that if or, more likely, when they were discovered, Amelia would have dropped her like that. With no warning. With such definity.
Natalie still didn’t even know how it happened. She’d just woke up one morning to Amelia pacing the floor of Natalie’s bedroom as the sun streamed through the tiny gap in her curtains.
By the time Natalie registered something was wrong, when the only thing coming out of Amelia’s mouth as she stopped pacing and began darting from the closet to the bathroom and back, stuffing things into her purse that had been left there gradually over the last few months, was curses uttered under her breath, it was too late.
The front door slammed behind Amelia, and Natalie’s worst assumption was that Mason was looking for her, that he’d come home earlier than Amelia had expected, and she wasn’t there to greet him.
But that was the last time Natalie had seen Amelia. Her calls later that day went unanswered, and it was only when she’d been flipping through the channels that night, bored and alone, that she saw her own face on the entertainment section of the news.
And there was a photo of Natalie and Amelia from an awards night a few weeks ago. It was entirely innocent. They never would have been that stupid, but they had been standing close together, Natalie’s hand on the small of Amelia’s back as they mingled with other musicians and celebrities.
