CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
The traffic on the Interstate was bumper-to-bumper due to construction and it being a Friday evening in the city. What was supposed to be a quick ten-mile jaunt from the Nashville Airport to the Ryman Auditorium turned out to be a commuter’s worst nightmare. The Nashville-bound plane in Atlanta had taken off later than expected and Katie was pushing it, knowing she had just about run out of time. The worst part was, she had left her cell phone in the front seat pocket of the first plane and had no way of getting in touch with Clay. She hoped and prayed Dale would notice it and send him a message on her behalf.
Guessing which rental car place Dale had corresponded with, she lucked out finding her reservation on the second try. Without her precious Google Maps App, she depended on the polite attendant who was a Nashville native to give her explicit directions on how to get to the Ryman quickly and efficiently. She was now mere fifty yards from the exit sign which seemed to taunt her as the minutes on the digital clock on the dashboard ticked by. Traffic had only moved a foot in the last five minutes and she couldn’t take it anymore. Glancing over her shoulder, she swerved the car to the right pulling into a small enclave that wasn’t barricaded by orange construction cones and turned the hazard lights on. The sun was finally setting and the wind had picked up, blowing wisps of hair out of her tight bun. Grabbing her purse and locking the door, she started toward the exit, bypassing stand-still traffic all-together, hoping and praying she would make Clay’s performance on time.
The asphalt was unforgiving as she walked in her high-heeled, pointed shoes and she stumbled several times, cursing under her breath. Tears pricked her eyes and she swiped at her cheeks with the back of her hand, trying to maintain her composure as she thought about how stupid she was for putting herself in this situation. When she finally made her way to the bright red stop sign at the bottom of the ramp, she could hear the rumble of a motorcycle come up from behind. Keeping her head down, she continued on the side of the road, knowing she was several blocks from the auditorium. Out of her peripheral vision, she could see a big, burly man on a Harley Davidson twisting the throttle and grinning from ear-to-ear. He wore a bowl-shaped black helmet and shades, a long braid trailing over his shoulder and full, graying beard hiding most of his face. He was obviously following her. She stopped in her tracks.
“You trying to scare me?” Her hands were on her hips as she shouted over the loud rumble of the cycle engine.
“No, ma’am. Trying to find out if you need a ride somewhere. Saw your car pull over on the freeway. Can I give you a lift?”
Chewing on her lower lip, Katie knew she was out of time and this scary-looking lumber-jack-of-a-man was her only hope. Flipping her purse strap over her head and across her chest, she hiked up her pencil skirt and hopped on the back of the man’s bike, surprising him.
“I need to get to the backstage door of the Ryman. It’s a matter of life or death,” she yelled into his ear.
He nodded eagerly. “Hold on!”
Gripping the man’s ample waist, she held her breath as he took off with a jolt. In less than two minutes, he pulled up to the backstage door and she hopped off, pulling her skirt down to the tops of her knees and adjusting her purse over her shoulder.
Looking desperately at the stage door and back at the motorcycle man, she hesitated long enough to thank him. “You just saved my life. Thank you!”
He pulled off his shades revealing gorgeous blue eyes. “You’re welcome darlin’. Glad I could be of service.”
“Could you leave your contact info with the door guy so I can send you a thank you gift or something?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“At least tell me your name.” She was interrupted when Buddy appeared in the open doorway frantically waving for her with his hands.
She looked at Buddy, then turned one last time to the man on the cycle.
He revved the bike hard before quickly taking off in a cloud of exhaust leaving a skid mark on the ground. Her mouth gaped. The vanity plate on the back end of the Harley spelled the words, “Big Daddy.”
***
“Five minutes Mr. Watkins,” the stage manager said through a crack in the dressing room door. Clay looked in the mirror and shook his head. Tonight was supposed to be special; tonight was supposed to be a night he would never forget. He was numb; his heart broken, plagued with the unknown. As much as he tried to calm down with breathing exercises and playing his guitar, he felt like he had lost his mojo and was ready to forfeit his last ember of hope. He was at a loss and was about to let a whole bunch of folks down, including his mother and Big Daddy.
Standing in front of the lighted mirror with his palms on the dressing table, he sighed and bowed his head in submission. The door creaked open again and he was frozen in his stance not able to turn around to tell them he couldn’t go on. Lifting his head and looking at the reflection in the mirror, he saw her standing in the shadows. Her hair was a mess and tears streamed down her cheeks as her chest heaved with emotion. His eyes widened, and he turned around with a flourish as she propelled herself into his arms.
“I’m here…I’m here. Oh, God. Clay, I’m so sorry.” she whispered hoarsely, peppering his cheeks and neck with kisses.
His heart started to flutter, the numbness dissipating as his limbs slowly came back to life as he tried to figure out what was happening. Pulling back, he looked at her face, gripping her by the arms. “Where have you been?” he struggled to ask, his expression a mixture of concern and jubilation. Katie was as real as the stars in the sky. He smoothed the wild strands of hair back from her face and wiped her tears with the pad of his thumb. “Are you okay? Why are you dressed like that?”
Before she could answer him, they were interrupted by Buddy and the stage manager who stood in the doorway. “Places,” the manager said, her expression thoughtful.
He nodded before looking Katie in the eye, cupping her face tenderly with his hands. “I have to go, baby. Are you sure you’re okay?”
She nodded eagerly placing her own hands over his. “You have to know something before you go, Clay.”
“What is it?” He watched her doe eyes shut briefly before she took a deep breath.
“I love you. You need to know that. You need to feel that while you’re out there. You have no idea how much love is covering you tonight by all your friends and family. Big Daddy is here… and I’m here. And…and I love you.”
Shocked, Clay was at a loss for words. All he could do was pull her in for one last hug and kiss her hard on the mouth. Grabbing his guitar, he walked out of the dressing room in a daze, following the manager to the lighted stage entrance. Katie Parker had just confessed her love for him. His heart was pounding out of his chest and he wanted to sob with relief. His body was coming back to life as his blood pumped to the rhythm of the crowd chanting his name.
Buddy was by his side watching the live feed on a monitor in the wings. “You got this?” he asked, a worried countenance paling his face.
“Yeah,” he whispered. A long intro was playing, showing photos from Clay’s past, the smooth voice of a narrator explaining the journey of Georgia Clay. From his humble, stuttering beginnings to his numerous awards, highlighting some of the most significant songs in American music, one couldn’t help but watch and be mesmerized by the songwriter’s journey to this moment in time. The band was in place looking over at him with broad smiles, anticipating the count off.
