Chapter 7

I picked Kim up Thursday morning for our drive to Nashville. She surprised me with only one small suitcase. She asked about putting the top down, but I told her it would get noisy and tedious on the freeway, especially if we wanted to listen to music.

We had started up into hill country before I told her about helping Tien move. I tried to downplay the danger but she could tell. I told her that Li-Jen didn’t know what he was doing and it was pretty easy for Franklin to convince him to stop. She wasn’t having it.

“I’ve cut myself cooking, you know. A sharp knife can make a pretty serious wound, even if it’s accidental. I’ve heard you say that even a blind squirrel finds an acorn now and then. The guy with the knife could have gotten lucky.”

“I think we all learned something.”

“I hope so. And Jake was with you? I don’t get it.”

“Guys don’t hold grudges like girls do.” She wasn’t buying it again.

She put Creedence Clearwater Revival’s Green River cassette in. We sang along. We didn’t know the words to Cross-Tie Walker and while it was playing, Kim said, “You should hear Mel sing Bad Moon Rising.”

“Is she good?”

“She can sing okay, but she doesn’t have a clue what the lyrics are and it’s hilarious. I have no idea how she came up with ‘they have the bathroom on the right.’ She messes up a lot of their songs.”

“The name of the song is Bad Moon Rising. It’s, ‘There is a bad moon on the rise’. How can she not know that?”

“Next time we all go somewhere together, put this album in, start singing, then listen to Mel’s version.”

The next song came on and we started singing again. We were bad but we were loud. After we passed through Knoxville, we decided to talk about our visit. We’d been listening to Emmylou Harris for a couple of hours but there was more to this trip than just the concert.

“I just want to see Emmylou Harris. I know this means more to you than that. You want to meet her boyfriend and make sure he’s not an asshole.”

“Wow. I guess that sums it up pretty well.”

“He should probably know that you were willing to drive nine hours each way so your fiancée could see Emmylou Harris and that you would drive those same hours if you had to return to kick his ass if he ever treated Sally in an unkind way.”

“Do you think I should just tell him that, or should I sugarcoat it?” I said, a bit surprised at how accurate Kim’s assessment was and how blunt she was when she laid it out.

“I think you should get to know him a bit first. Then, maybe you could tell the story about how you sent Dillon James to the nurse’s office, or knocked Jake out. You know, ‘oh, here’s a funny story you might find interesting’ and then tell him you’re taking kung fu lessons or that your fiancée hunts. You know, something like that.”

“Follow up with, ‘hey, how about a Fresca?’ no doubt.”

“Perfect. See? You know how to do this. I’m sure he’s a nice guy. She’s no dummy, right?”

“No. She’s pretty smart. Love is blind though and people in love have been known to do stupid things.”

“Yeah. Look at us,” she said, with a completely straight face. I kept sneaking looks at her until she busted up laughing.

We debated taking a quick drive around Nashville and decided just to go to Sally’s house. I’d had the tour and Kim said she could wait. We had dropped the top when we got off the freeway and enjoyed the cooler Nashville air as we drove the last few miles to their house. Sally and Warren must have been expecting us to show up when we did since we were barely parked when they both came out of the house.

Sally looked great, wearing something a bit less outrageous than the red barmaid dress she’d had on last time I’d seen her. Warren looked to be just shy of six feet and pretty thin. He looked neat, clean, and friendly, and I already knew he was smart. I didn’t like him. Sally gave me a big hug, then she hugged Kim.

“Let me see,” Sally said, and Kim held out her hand. Sally looked at it, holding Kim’s hand, then smiled at her, then me, then Warren. She held it for him to see.

“Do I get a hug?” Warren asked Kim and both Sally and I said, ‘No’ at the same time and it was pretty funny. Kim hugged him anyway. I shook his hand. We went inside and took seats in the living room. Kim and Sally took turns telling about what we as couples had each been up to. Kim asked Warren about school and his plans. Sally and I smiled at each other a lot. We decided to drive past the Ryman Auditorium on our way to dinner.

Warren made a couple of restaurant suggestions. Sally reminded him we were coming from Charleston and that Nashville restaurants couldn’t compete. We settled on a little steakhouse within walking distance of the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum.

It was a lot quieter than Merrill’s Ranch, where Sally worked. Kim asked about the Ryman and Sally told her who she had seen there and who she had seen at the new Grand Ole Opry House. Warren had seen Johnny Cash, and as good as that was, it didn’t come close to Sally’s long list of musicians she’d seen in a fairly short period. Kim was jealous. Warren added a few details but it seemed like he was just as happy as I was to let our sweethearts carry the conversation.

After dinner, we walked to the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum. I didn’t know many of the Country Music Hall of Fame inductees. Sally knew them all and Kim knew quite a few but even she didn’t know a lot of them. I’d heard of Hank Williams, Patsy Cline, Minnie Pearl, and Johnny Cash, but most of the rest were mysteries to me. Sally and Kim talked about who should be in the Hall of Fame. While they disagreed on some, they both knew that Emmylou Harris would be there one day. Warren didn’t know. Neither did I.

It was late when we finished. I took Kim and Sally back to Sally’s house and dropped them off. Then Warren and I went to his apartment. It was sparsely decorated with fencing photos and gear providing most of the focus.

“Tea?” he asked. Tea? Who drinks tea?

“No thanks. Water is good. So, tell me about fencing. All I know about it comes from the movies.”

Apparently, I’d said the magic words. Warren hadn’t said much that evening but when I asked about fencing, he came alive. I asked a couple of questions to be polite but was beginning to regret having asked in the first place. When he finally took a break, I thought I’d see if I couldn’t get us out of the subject.

“Let me see if I’ve got it straight. Epee is basically tag with sticks. Foil is tag with sticks and extra rules, and saber is sword fighting but without blood.” He looked at me as though I’d said the Mona Lisa was a snapshot or a Ferrari was sort of like a taxi cab.

“Sure. Just like that,” he said, then laughed. “You box, right?”

He asked me about boxing and then kung fu. He tried to compare it to fencing but it was a stretch. I agreed that some of the same elements were in boxing, kung fu, and fencing but that was it. “They all require athleticism, understanding the critical distance, and being able to close the distance but there are two huge differences.”

“Besides the obvious?” he asked.

“If you get hit with a punch, you know it. If you get stuck with an epee, the score changes. Big difference. And, unless you carry a sword around with you, it’s not particularly practical.”

“I can’t argue with either of those. If I decided to pick up boxing or kung fu, would it be easier for me because of my fencing background?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Learning kung fu might be a little easier for me because I learned boxing first. They’re different.”

He thought about that for a couple of minutes before asking, “What should I know about Sally?”

Ha. “That you don’t deserve her, but you already know that.” He didn’t answer. He should have agreed right away. “Dude, relax. Nobody does.”

He smiled a little. “What about Kim?”

“I don’t deserve her either. I don’t know what she was thinking but here I am.” He wanted more. “Sally bought four tickets to Emmylou Harris. Four. She knows that she’s Kim’s favorite. That’s why. Think about that for a minute. That’s pretty much all you need to know about Sally. She barely knows Kim, but she knows we’re engaged and that’s why she didn’t just get tickets, but she got them in the second row.”

“Yeah. That’s pretty special.”

“I’ll tell you one more thing. Don’t hurt her.”

“I would never hit a woman and especially not Sally.”

“There’s more than one way to hurt someone. Don’t. Not physically, not verbally, and not emotionally.” He saw how serious I was. “After all, I know where you live.”

“I won’t hurt her. Not a chance. First, I love her too much.”

“And, second?”

“I don’t want to learn kung fu the hard way,” he said with a smile.

“Smart man.” There. That was settled.

The next morning, Warren and I picked up the girls and went to brunch together. They had stayed up late, talking so we didn’t get started until eleven. From there, we went to the park and spent much of the day at The Parthenon, which is an amazing museum. Sally gave us a tour of the town and we ended up at Merril’s Ranch for dinner. Kim and Sally knew how to dress for a country music concert. Warren and I, on the other hand, were boring. I thought Sally might play a few numbers but that wasn’t going to happen. She’d played for Kim the night before and that was enough.

By the looks of things, there were quite a few people at Merril’s who would be going on to The Ryman Auditorium. As we ate, Kim told us what songs she hoped Emmylou Harris would play. She finally took a breath.

“So, all of them?” I asked. She looked at me and realized that’s pretty much what she had just said and laughed. Sally knew her music but not the way Kim did. Warren was just along for the ride. I was starting to like him, a tiny bit. Perhaps I was simply disliking him less.

We made our way to the Ryman Auditorium and worked our way down front. There were two rows of folding chairs inside a little barrier wall in front of us. We were in the second row after that and near the center. We were close. The house lights were up and instrumental music that sounded vaguely western played. Most of the people were older than us. I didn’t think Emmylou Harris appealed to many teeny boppers. Sally saw Merril about six rows back and she dragged Kim to meet him.

“Everybody likes Kim, don’t they?” Warren asked.

“Don’t know anyone who doesn’t. Not sure I’d want to. Same as Sally, right?”

“Yeah. She’s pretty friendly. Hard not to return that.”

The concert was scheduled to start at seven but I knew it would be later than that. I thought all concerts started late so the seats would be full and interruptions would be at a minimum. At seven-thirty, some musicians took the stage and Kim told us who they were. “There’s not going to be an opening act. This is her Hot Band.”

After Emmylou Harris’ first album, her agent or producer, or somebody else with influence said she needed a hot band. The next concert she did was billed Emmylou Harris and The Hot Band, which I thought was hilarious. When the rest of the band was set up, Emmylou Harris walked out with her guitar and took center stage to a great welcome.

“Hey, everybody. Thanks for coming out tonight. We’re the opening act, the closing act, and the main show and we’ve got a lot of songs to play so I hope you don’t have any plans.” And with that, she started their show with Pancho and Lefty and Kim was happy.

She had played three or four songs from her Roses in the Snow album when she changed things up. “I’d like to introduce a friend of mine and she’s going to join me for a couple of songs. Would you welcome, Miss Tanya Tucker.” Sally went nuts.

“I see a lot of familiar faces out there. That makes this a lot more fun,” Tucker said. I knew Sally hoped she was a familiar face but there were a lot of people in the auditorium, and most of them were from the country music capital of the world.

Kim knew they had done a duet on the album and they performed Sister’s Coming Home together, and they went right into Sorrow in the Wind, which Kim said she had sung with someone else for the album. Kim was super excited.

After Tanya Tucker left the stage, she played some quiet numbers. Some of the band members changed guitars for that. Emmylou had been looking out at different parts of the audience and different people throughout the show. In that quiet moment, her eyes lit on Kim, who said, “You’re my favorite,” just as though she could hear her. Maybe she did.

“What do you want to hear, honey?” she asked and I thought maybe she had heard her.

“Boulder to Birmingham,” Kim answered, and she nodded that she would do it. If Kim had been happy and excited before, that really got her going.

She didn’t perform that song right away. Instead, she sang most of the songs from Pieces of the Sky and Elite Hotel. It was after ten when she invited another friend out for another couple of duets. Emmylou Harris had joined a lot of other artists on their albums and they had repaid the favor. When performing in Nashville, it wasn’t uncommon to have someone join you on stage. At least that’s what Sally said.

“I’m going to need a little help for Even Cowgirls Get the Blues, and with that, Dolly Parton joined her on stage. To be joined by either Tanya Tucker or Dolly Parton was a big deal but both in one night was pretty special.

Warren had said that everyone loved Kim, but Dolly Parton knew a lot more people and they all loved her. The two of them were great together and when they finished, they moved right into Coat of Many Colors, a song they had each done on their albums but not together. It sounded great. When they finished, they talked to each other off microphone for a couple of moments, and all five foot nothing, Dolly Parton left the stage.

After a couple more songs, the band left the stage leaving Emmylou Harris alone. She sang Hickory Wind and closed with Boulder to Birmingham. She thanked us again, and walked off the stage as the lights came up to thunderous applause, Kim leading the way.

“House lights are up. No encore,” Sally said. “She played for a long time, and with the band gone, those last two songs were sort of like an encore. Did you ask for that?”

“Yes. I knew it was really meaningful for her. Those last two songs were special for her because of Gram Parsons.” Warren and I had no idea what that meant but Sally did.

Some of the people had recognized Merril, and then saw Sally. She introduced us to a couple of dozen people before we could finally make our way toward the exit. We couldn’t possibly leave without getting a concert T-shirt for Kim. She picked one out that had Emmylou and her Hot Band, surrounded by roses.

Kim was a happy woman. We walked to the parking garage with Kim and Sally in front. It was good to see Emmylou Harris, but Dolly Parton was a legend. That was pretty cool. We got to the car and Kim and Sally drew close for what they thought was a private conversation but the acoustics knew better.

“I don’t know how I could ever repay you,” Kim said. “This was just amazing, and second row. Oh, my word,” and that with a very southern accent.

“Just treat Jack right. That’s good enough.” They both looked at me and I smiled, just as though I hadn’t heard.

The next morning, Kim and I were on the road for home by nine. We didn’t have any music on and we’d been quietly enjoying the scenery when Kim said, “It must have been tough when she left.”

“Understatement.”

“She thinks the world of you, Jack.”

“It’s mutual.”

“We talked until pretty late the other night. She told me about it and she told me about your visit. She said you told her that it wouldn’t have worked between you two, at least not in the long run. She said she had to think about that for a long time before she agreed.”

“She’s happy here, and Warren seems like a decent guy.”

“He is and she loves him but I think she’ll always, I don’t know.”

“We’ll always have Paris,” I said with a terrible Bogart impersonation. Kim knew the line from Casablanca when Humphrey Bogart’s character, Rick said it to Ilsa. It was the saddest ending to any movie, ever.

“Yeah. I think she’ll always have that, ‘what if?’ in her mind.”

“No. I don’t. I think we settled that when I was here over Spring Break.”

It was quiet again. After a long, comfortable silence, Kim asked, “That was a lot to take in, wasn’t it?”

“Obviously, her last two songs were personal for her. I don’t know how she can do that,” I said, wondering about the emotional drain.

“I don’t know either. Sally had a lot of fun, too. She’s met both Dolly Parton and Tanya Tucker so that would be pretty cool for her. I wonder if Emmylou Harris ever goes to Merril’s Ranch.”

“I’m sure Sally will tell me if she does. After this, how do you feel about Sally and me talking on the phone?”

“I’ve never had a problem with it, but now, she’s my friend, too.”

“Did you talk about me?” I asked.

“No,” Kim said, then laughed. “Of course, you dufus. She wants you to be happy. Did you talk to Warren about Sally?”

“I told him not to hurt her.”

“Or...?”

“I left the consequences unspecified.”

“Probably best that way.”

“He said he didn’t want to learn kung fu the hard way.” Kim smiled at that.

We talked about the concert for a while. Kim remembered every song she played, in order. She told me about the songs, the lyrics, and meanings. There were a couple of bands I really liked but I didn’t know all the details the way Kim knew about Emmylou Harris. It was truly impressive.

We filled up the tank and grabbed some burgers in Knoxville and didn’t waste any time doing it. I pulled into a rest stop near Spartanburg. I told Kim I was going to get a Coke and a candy bar from the vending machines and asked if she wanted something. “An Abba-Zaba bar, please.” Who eats Abba-Zaba bars?

Back on the road, we drank our Diet Cokes. I ate my Mounds, made with shredded coconut and dark chocolate, and Kim put her Abba-Zaba bar on the dashboard and let it sit. It was still there when we passed through Columbia.

“Are you going to eat that?”

“No. Why, do you want it?”

“No. Ack. Who eats those?” I asked.

“I don’t.”

“Why did you ask me to get it?”

“To remind myself not to eat candy bars. You don’t get a figure like this by eating candy bars, you know,” she said, running her hands down her sides, then cupping her boobs. I grabbed the Abba-Zaba bar and put it on my left, out of her reach. She thought that was funny but when I reached for her Abba-Zaba free body, she smacked me. Can’t blame a guy for trying.

We went to Kim’s house first. I called home while Mrs. McTighe heated up some food for us. Kim told them all about Sally, Warren, and Nashville. Then she told them about the concert.