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Chapter 5
Maddie Mae
Going home is hard.
Nashville was nothing like Los Angeles. Nashville wasn’t anything like the Nashville I left over twenty years ago either. But when mom died of lung cancer and left me my childhood home right after my husband divorced me, it seemed like the right thing to do. Run away. No. A reset. Not only for me but for my daughter Sky. I didn’t have little kids anymore, but Sky, my oldest, more than anyone needed the move away from her troubles in California. She was the only one of her siblings not in college.
Besides, I needed to find a career. I’d been a preschool teacher and mom while my husband Corey worked in investment banking. But I was over little kids. And over the years, in between running my sons to soccer and lacrosse, I’d dabbled in writing poetry and even sold one as a song. When mom left me this house, something clicked, and I’d been writing lyrics. What better place than Nashville to start a music career? I couldn’t very well afford to stay in Los Angeles on my salary of nada. With our kids grown, the judge didn’t think alimony from my husband had been warranted. For the first time in a long time, I was on my own.
We made it down my old street and parked in front of the midcentury brick home. Sky slinked off inside while I talked to the neighbors who all seemed to remember me. Some shared memories of me when I was a kid. Although I remembered the ladies, I didn’t remember peeing in Mrs. Hassel’s pool. Nor did I remember Cheryl’s late husband who used to let me feed his parrot. I didn’t care about who had moved or died, but I plastered on the southern smile my mother always insisted on.
Florence hugged me. “Sorry about Gina. Your mom was a good woman.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
Mrs. Hassle said, “Your mom raised you on her own. Guess you’re lucky your kids are grown.”
It seemed that my mother had told the neighborhood about my ugly divorce before she passed.
Cheryl added, “Your mom was happy to spend her whole life in this house and never needed another man.”
I cringed at the thought of that being my future.
Florence became overly animated for a woman in her late seventies. “What do you think about that Beau Strick?”
Beau Strick? That name sure was a blast from the past. Beau had been my high school sweetheart. How the hell did my mom’s neighbor Florence know anything about me and Beau? Mom had hardly approved. She tried her best to keep it quiet while we were dating. Seemed my mom did nothing but gossip about me. Regardless, I missed her.
“Beau Strick?” I asked. “Does he live around here or something?”
Beau had gone to prison when we were seniors in high school. It was all anyone could talk about back then, so I tuned it all out. It’d all been some unfortunate set up. He swore. I was sure his shitty dad had been behind it. But there wasn’t anything I could do about it but lay low. I’d been wrapped up in too much of Beau’s going abouts to cause a fuss, or I could’ve been in trouble myself. At least that’s what his dad had told me when I complained to him.
After I graduated high school, I left Tennessee for Mississippi State where I had Sky. Then I met my husband, Corey. We moved to California after that, and I never came back to Tennessee. Mom visited me in California whenever she could. She also kept Sky part of the summer when she was young, whenever Corey and I traveled with our three kids. I should’ve realized back then, when Corey didn’t want to take his stepdaughter on vacation, he was a deplorable human. It took me twenty years to come to the conclusion.
What’s horrible, I’d heard when Beau was finally exonerated and released from prison, and then I avoided all word of him. Back then, I was busy raising a family, four kids. And there wasn’t anything like Facebook back then. Then the internet barely existed. Myspace maybe, but it was a different time. Believe me, since Corey shattered my world by cheating on me with a much younger woman, I’d thought about looking Beau up on social media, just out of curiosity, but I hadn’t gotten the nerve. Or the time. My days had been filled with emptying the home I raised four children in.
“Local boy did good. Didn’t you date him?”
“Yeah, in high school,” I admitted, confused. Always the bad boy, when did Beau ever do good?
“He’s single. Just divorced.” Florence winked at me.
Mrs. Hassel interrupted her. “Florence, that was years ago.”
“Honey at my age, it just happened. Maddie you’re in nice shape to have birthed four children. Beau has that little boy by that singer.” She snapped her fingers. “What’s her name?” She started humming. “Sings, Love’s alright. Alright, now.”
It sounded familiar. “Is it a country song? I don’t listen to country music.”
Florence gasped as if I confessed a sin. “Well.”
Well, I had committed a Nashville sin. The ladies changed the subject and then thankfully helped Sky and me carry in the few boxes and our luggage.
As soon as the old women disappeared, I pulled out my cell phone and googled Beau Strick.
“Holy shit.”
“What are you on about, mom?” Sky asked. Her long dark hair contrasted with my own as we both stared at the same phone. Neither of us were natural. I dyed mine blonde to hide the gray, and she dyed hers black to hide a dark blonde.
“Look,” I handed my daughter the phone.
