Chapter 4

Misty decided that the best way to break this particular mule was to wear him out. That she was tired herself was put aside. When Rodney, beaming appropriately and treating her like the star she was, walked her out to the truck, she got in and started her plan.

“I’m hungry,” she announced. “Take me to get something to eat.”

“I thought you needed clothes,” said Bobby.

“We’ll do that after I’ve eaten,” she said, her voice short.

“Something to eat,” he said.

“That’s what I said!” She tried to put some snap in her voice.

“We don’t have fancy five star restaurants around here,” he said, starting the truck.

“And don’t you have a nicer car or something?” she pressed. “Something that won’t get my new clothes all dirty, once I have them?”

“I have a car, but it’s old. You wouldn’t like it either,” he said, putting the truck into motion. “Where do you want to eat?”

“How should I know?” she asked, getting frustrated. “I’ve never been here before!”

“What kind of food do you like?” he asked, patiently.

“Lobster,” she replied instantly.

“I don’t think anybody in town serves lobster.”

“Okay, then, caviar,” she said stubbornly. She’d tried the nasty stuff, and didn’t really like it, but she wasn’t about to admit that to this insufferable man.

“There’s one place in town that might have that,” he said amiably. “You might have to eat it out of the can, though.”

It would have gone on like that for some time, had he not suddenly pulled into a Dairy Bee.

“How ‘bout a burger?” he asked, shutting the truck off.

“I’m not eating at a drive-in!” she announced, her voice surly.

“Then you’re not really hungry,” he said, starting the truck and pulling out. “We’ll just go find you something to wear before the stores close. Maybe you’ll be hungry after that.”

It didn’t matter what she did, or how much she complained. He somehow turned her statements against her. She would have screamed at him, but he had this maddening gift for making it sound like he was doing exactly what she demanded, even though he did absolutely nothing that she demanded.

When they stopped at a clothing shop, and she insisted that nothing was suitable, he simply took her to another one. That happened three times before it caught her by surprise when, as they got back in the truck, he said: “Well, that’s if for Hutchinson. I guess I’ll have to take you back to Wichita.”

“The stores will be closed!” she yelped.

He looked at his watch. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Well, maybe tomorrow.”

“I have to rehearse tomorrow!” she wailed. “I don’t have anything to sleep in tonight!”

“You can always sleep naked,” he suggested, looking straight ahead. “They probably have a washing machine, where you’re staying. They can wash what you have on, and you can wear it again tomorrow, until we find an acceptable store.”

“Nooooooo,” she wailed.

Misty’s problem was that, at that point, she was tired, and weak from hunger. Nothing had gone right all day. Nothing had gone right for several days, in fact. This was supposed to be her chance to break away from the crowd ... to be the headliner ... even if it was in some cow-town that nobody had ever heard of. Her pride and stubbornness had kept her from getting something to eat, and from having perfectly nice clothing. She’d seen several outfits she’d normally have loved to buy and wear, but she couldn’t admit that now. She was aware of that, on some level, but she blamed it on Bobby Dalton, instead of her own prima donna behavior.

Being young, and not having been able to break the mule she was with to riding, she did what most young women do when everything goes wrong.

She cried.

Initially, Bobby felt only satisfaction when the young woman in the truck burst into tears. As it went on, though, and he heard the pain in her voice as she railed at him, his normal nature began tweaking his conscience.

He admitted to himself that, despite the fact that she was a spoiled brat, she was, in fact, the star performer in Hutchinson’s celebration, and that, if she continued to feel like she was feeling, she wouldn’t be worth squat on stage. Most of his compassion was for Amanda, whose reputation might suffer if this didn’t work out. He allowed just a little compassion to flow toward his charge.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to make things better. So he took her to Amanda’s house.

“What are we doing here?” sniffled the crying girl.

“We’re going to get you something to eat, and let you watch Amanda tear me a new asshole,” he said.

“What?”

“You need something to eat. I’m sure Amanda will have some leftovers in the fridge. She’s a good cook. Besides, you need to meet Ron. He owns the station, and he’s your biggest sponsor.”

“I need clothes!” she wailed.

“We’ll borrow something from Mandy for you to sleep in,” he said patiently. “In the morning I’ll figure something out about the clothes. Don’t worry. You don’t have to go on stage until something like eight in the evening. We’ll get you appropriately dressed before then.”

“This is not like I thought it would be!” she sobbed.

“Life isn’t always fair,” said Bobby. “Don’t worry, though. I’ll try to do a better job of making life fair tomorrow.”

A very startled Amanda answered the knock at the door, and her eyes widened as she saw her star attraction slumped and crying, beside Bobby. Her reaction was swift.

“I thought I told you to take care of her!” she snapped.

“It’s complicated,” said Bobby, almost flinching.

“It is not complicated, Bobby Dalton!” snarled Amanda, opening her arms to the crying girl, who rushed forward to be comforted.

“She wanted Lobster and caviar,” said Bobby, trying to mitigate Amanda’s ire. “She wouldn’t eat at the Dairy Bee.”

“Of course not, you idiot!” said Amanda tersely.

“She didn’t like any of the clothes she saw!” said Bobby stubbornly.

About then a toddler appeared, as if by magic, and attached himself to Bobby’s left leg. Misty watched, through tear-filled eyes as he stooped and picked up the little boy, who hugged his neck.

“Hi, sport!” said Bobby, his face breaking into a smile. “At least you still love me.”

“You take care of Mikey,” snapped Amanda. “I’ll take care of Misty, since you don’t seem to be able to do the simplest thing!”

“Suits me,” said Bobby, without a trace of guilt in his voice. “Come on, buddy,” he said to the little boy. “You want me to read you a story?”

Misty, responding to the hug she was getting from Amanda, and the dressing down this irritating man was getting from the woman hugging her, calmed somewhat. She calmed enough to see a completely different side to the irritating man, who kissed the child on the cheek and threw him up into the air. Both women drew in breath as the toddler was suddenly suspended in the air, and then fell into Bobby’s arms, giggling and laughing. He laughed even more when Bobby made growling noises and “ate” the little boy’s neck.

Amanda hustled Misty into the kitchen, where the remains of supper were still making a delicious odor that caused Misty’s stomach to growl audibly.

“I’m so sorry,” cooed Amanda, sitting Misty at the kitchen table, which was covered with a red and white checkered table cloth exactly like the one Misty’s mother still insisted using on their brand new table, in their new house, in Nashville. “Bobby can be terribly stubborn sometimes.”

Amanda, only recently a mother, had embraced that role in her life just like she had embraced any other role she played. Though she didn’t have a lot of experience with babies yet, her maternal instincts had been awakened, and they were much more evolved than she both knew, or would have thought. Those instincts just naturally seemed to come into play when soothing this heartbroken girl. As she bustled around, getting a plate of meatloaf, mashed potatoes and green beans ready, she sympathized with Misty’s problems, setting aside her own impatience with the girl for not bucking up and dealing with things.

That helped, because Misty’s mother had always been the one who could calm her down. But, to be honest, the food helped just as much. This was a home cooked meal, simple though it was, and Misty was famished. Soon she couldn’t talk at all, because her mouth was always full. Amanda had perfected her homemade bread again, and thick slices of that topped off the meal.

In the process, emotions calmed and, when she could talk again, Misty began to talk to her new friend. Once assured that her immediate problems would be dealt with, though those assurances were somewhat vague, the up-and-coming singing star found herself just talking. It was fun to just talk. Everybody in her life, recently, was too busy to just chat, and everything they talked about was career oriented. Amanda, though, had the knack of getting a conversation going that slid into areas much less stuffy, and of much more interest to a young woman whose whole life was ahead of her, not the least her professional life.

“I know how hard it is for a woman to get ahead,” said Amanda, at one point.

That led to the sharing of stories of both complaint and victory over adversity.

“Does your husband support you in your job?” asked Misty, at one point.

“Oh, I’m not married,” said Amanda, clearing the table. “Marriage isn’t for me. Not yet, anyway.”

“But the baby...” said Misty.

“Mikey?” Amanda pinked up just a little. “He’s the light of my life, but I wouldn’t marry his father.” Misty didn’t notice the slight frown that came across Amanda’s brow as she remembered that Bobby was part of the problem she was dealing with.

“Oh!” said Misty, embarrassed that she had pried. “That happens back in Hog Holler a lot.”

“Hog Holler?”

Now it was the singing star whose cheeks got rosy.

“That’s where I’m from,” she said. “It’s called Hog Holler, and it’s back in the mountains.”

“No wonder you’re so good,” said Amanda. “I’ve heard some recordings of mountain music, and the technical expertise I hear in those songs is astonishing.”

“Thank you!” said Misty, pleased at the honest compliment. “But those good old boys are pretty good at getting a girl in trouble too.”

Amanda laughed. “I actually wanted to have Michael. He wasn’t really an accident. It didn’t start out that way, but I loved his father so much I just had to have a little piece of him to keep forever.”

“I thought you said you wouldn’t marry him,” commented Misty.

“I wouldn’t. Not now, anyway. He’s too wild to tame, I think. But I love him just the same. He changed my whole life.”

“Who is he?” asked the girl, curiously.

Amanda realized how dangerous this direction of conversation was. Rather than say anything else, she just changed the subject.

“Have you had enough? I’m sure Daddy would just love to meet you. He’s a big fan of yours.”

Misty had been around long enough to know when a particular subject was taboo, and recognized the change of subject for what it was. She blushed a little more, feeling like she had pried even more.

“I’d love to meet him,” she said, trying to be gracious. She also wondered why, when she’d been here almost an hour, that she hadn’t already met the man.

They had to go through the living room to get to Ron’s bedroom, where he was sitting in his wheel chair, reading a book that was laid on the table affixed to his chair. Bobby had made a contraption that held the book, and allowed Ron to turn the pages with his unruly hand. He usually read while Amanda cleaned up after supper. Then, if it was still early, they might watch some TV together. If it was late, they engaged in more intimate pastimes.

On their way through the living room though, they stopped. Bobby was sprawled out on the couch, the little tyke lying on his chest. A book was laid across the little boy’s back, open, but not being read.