Southern Rocker Chick Read online

  “But I’ve never been onstage before.”

  He shrugged. “Nothing to it but to do it. You’ve got a voice. You’re cute as hell. It’s not rocket science.” His brown eyes met mine. “You do want to sing with your old dad, dontcha?”

  I softened. Like I would deny Daddy anything. “Of course.”

  “Good,” he said. “Now pick one.”

  I picked the Skynyrd song and we practiced until about a half-hour before Mama was due home. Daddy quickly cleaned away all evidence of our rehearsal, which by that point included about three empty beer bottles on the coffee table. He escaped to the bedroom to get cleaned up while I started on dinner. It always made Mama happy when there was a hot meal on the table when she got home.

  She walked in before Daddy reemerged. I was putting the dishes onto the table as she dumped her purse on the table by the door. She offered me a tired smile. “What smells so good?”

  “Spaghetti,” I answered. It was one of several dishes I knew how to make at the grand old age of twelve.

  “Sounds good,” she said before she glanced over the living room. “Where’s your dad?”

  “Getting cleaned up for supper,” I said.

  She sighed as she took the dirty apron off of her uniform. Without another word she disappeared into the bedroom.

  They stayed in the room for a long while, which wasn’t surprising. I knew she was still mad. I took it as a good sign that, even with their elevated voices, I didn’t hear anything smash or break from the other side of the trailer.

  As I sat at the table in front of a plate of food I couldn’t yet eat, I cupped one hand to my ear, held up a spoon and sang softly the parts I had learned for Daddy’s song.

  I had just started round three by the time they came out of the bedroom. She had changed out of her work clothes into jeans and a T-shirt. As she got closer to the table, I saw that she had put her wedding ring back on her finger.

  She was quiet, though, as Daddy rattled off all the great things about this new gig. I noticed he was reluctant to mention the colleague in question was a girl. It didn’t appear Mama was any more eager to clarify. Instead she listened silently as she nibbled on her food.

  Finally, Daddy lowered the boom. “I’m thinking about putting Lacy onstage with us.”

  Mama shook her head immediately. “No way.”

  “Why not? It’s not some bar. It’s the fair. Hell, most years she doesn’t even get to go.”

  “And how much of the fair do you suppose she’ll see while she’s working for peanuts on stage?”

  “It’s music,” he said. “Not work. And she loves it. Don’t you, Lil Bit?”

  My stomach dropped. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be dragged into this conversation. Not with the way Mama’s eyes hardened when she turned to me. I shrugged my shoulders. “It could be fun,” I said as I lowered my eyes.

  “It’s a pipe dream,” she corrected. “Nothing has happened in thirteen years and it’s never going to happen,” she said to Daddy. “The longer you put off growing up and joining the real world, the harder it is for all of us, including Lacy. So don’t blow smoke up her behind about how great it is or how wonderful it will be. It’s a dead end. And you know it.”

  Daddy said nothing as he scooted back his chair and headed to the fridge for another beer. I noticed the more they fought, the more he drank. And of course the more he drank, the harder they fought. I shrank down in my chair and decided to hunker down until the storm passed.

  He landed with a thud into his chair. “You know what, Jules? I don’t think you’re scared it’s a dead end. I think you’re terrified it’ll actually work out. Because then you’ll have to face the fact that you gave up on making your own dream come true. Why don’t you tell her the truth?”

  Mama glared at him. “I told you. It’s in the past.”

  Daddy turned to me. “I met your Mama onstage, Lil Bit. She was a singer, just like your grandma.”

  “And,” she interrupted, “I had to give it up, just like your grandma.” Her eyes were cold as ice as she stared at him. “Someone had to pay the bills once I got pregnant.”

  “Stop being a martyr, for fuck’s sake. Like you couldn’t have gone back after she was born.”

  “When?” she demanded. “When I was breastfeeding? When I was working two jobs just to make ends meet? I was a mother. I needed to be home with my child. Face it, Lucas. I grew up and you never did.”

  He rubbed his eyes with his fingers. “I’m so sick of this broken record, Jules. You gave up and I never did. And you know it.” He rose from his chair and grabbed his keys.

  “Where are you going?” she said as she hopped up to chase after him.

  “I’ve got rehearsals,” he told her. “See you when I see you.”

  He slammed out of the house. I knew that Mama took notice that Daddy hadn’t grabbed Nadine for these rehearsals. But neither of us said anything. Instead we picked at the food neither one of us was hungry enough to eat anymore. Finally she helped me clear the table and wash the dishes. I glanced up at her. “Did you really sing, Mama?”

  She sighed as she dried a plate. “Yeah,” she finally admitted. “Your grandma didn’t want me to,” she added. “God, she threw a fit. She swore up and down that some smooth-talker would leave me pregnant and alone, just like she was left with me.”

  My eyes widened. It dawned on me in all our conversations about Grandma, no one had ever mentioned my grandpa. I figured he died before I was born. She was older, it just made sense.

  We dried our hands and she led me to the sofa, where she opened a photo album on our laps. “You know your grandma, Laverne,” she said as she pointed at the pictures. “She was barely two when her daddy, my grandfather, went off to work in ’42. Her mother, my grandmother, had to go to work to support the family, and Mama started cleaning houses in her neighborhood for some extra money. Granddad never came back from the war,” she said. “Which meant my mother and her mother had to take care of each other. When my Grandma died in ’63, I think Mama went a little crazy, doing all the things good girls weren’t supposed to do. She got a job as a go-go dancer, she drank, she caroused… she dated a lot. And she sang,” she added. “Boy, she could sing. Like a nightingale. And she loved every stinking moment in every dive bar from here to Houston and back.” Mama smiled absently. “She even got a gig on a casino boat on the Mississippi. She was fearless.”

  Mama sighed. “But then she met my Daddy. She never said much about him that didn’t include some cautionary tale. He was good looking, of course. He was a singer, of course. He swept her off her feet, of course. And then he left her the minute he found out she was pregnant with me. He wanted her to get some back-alley abortion but she refused. She took it as a sign from the universe that she needed to settle down. To grow up.” Mama touched one of the pictures of her mother holding her as an infant. “She was thirty when she had me. We struggled for everything we ever had. I knew she felt like it was her fault. That she wasted so much time on some pipe dream that could never really come true.”

  I laid my head on her shoulder. Her voice was gentle as she went on. “Your Daddy has big dreams, honey. Much bigger than he can ever realize. He wants to be a star, but look at him. He’s spent more than a decade chasing this wild goose. Here he in his 30s, no closer to a future than he was at nineteen. It’s a lottery very few people are destined to win. Honestly, I don’t think I want to meet the people who do. You have to sell everything in exchange for crumbs. Your soul. Your sanity. Your body,” she added with a stern look. “I just don’t want you repeating the same mistakes I made, or my mother made. Be smarter than us. Let the dream stay exactly that… a dream. Because it’s not going to come true, honey. And trust me, you’re better off.”

  Her words were soft and soothing, but my soul collapsed under the weight of her pessimistic advice. I cried myself to sleep that night, and not just because Daddy hadn’t come home.

  He showed up while Mama was at work the next day.
He wore stubble on his face and I could smell perfume on his clothes. I locked myself in my room and wouldn’t come out again no matter how many times he urged me to rehearse with him.

  Maybe Mama was right. Maybe it was time to let the dream die.

  It took almost a whole week before he managed to coax me out of the house, down to the park where we loved to play. He sat on the swing beside me. “Still mad at me, huh?”

  I glared at him. “I’m not an idiot. I could smell that other woman’s perfume on your clothes.”

  He shrugged it off. “Don’t be silly. Suzanne’s a hugger, that’s all. You’ll see what I mean when you meet her.”

  “I don’t think I should.”

  His eyes narrowed as he glanced at me. “Why not?”

  I knew I couldn’t tell him the truth. If I told him Mama had talked me out of the dream, into giving up, that it would just start another fight. And I really didn’t want him going back to that woman. If I could stop it, I should. So I started to swing. “I don’t want to be up on that stage in front of everyone. What if I freeze?”

  He smiled as he swung too. “Nah, being on stage is the safest place in the world. Nothing bad can happen to you. You’re up there, in the spotlight, with all these people looking up at you, loving you, believing in you,” he added. “It’s the best place in the whole world.”

  “Shouldn’t that be with Mama and me?” I challenged. He looked chagrined as he faced me.

  “Why do you think I want you both on stage with me so badly, Lil Bit? Then my life would be perfect. Our lives would be perfect.”

  I sighed. He did make it sound wonderful. “I would like to go to the fair,” I offered softly.

  He grinned. “That’s my girl. Let’s go home and practice.”

  It took another week to convince Mama. The alternator went out in the car, which meant she couldn’t refuse any money, even the meager pittance he had been promised filling in with a tribute band at the fair. So she agreed that I could join him for one song, “just to get it out of her system,” she said. I knew from the look on her face she was secretly hoping I would fail.

  The thought terrified me. I practiced relentlessly with Daddy every single day until school started. Then we would practice at night, which usually drove Mama from the room. Finally she started picking up more night shifts just so she didn’t have to endure it. That freed Suzanne, a big, brash, redhead with a southern drawl and way too much makeup, to come over nightly to rehearse with Daddy long after I went to bed. I ignored the giggles and the noise from the other room courtesy of my headphones and cassette tapes I had used to practice.

  Finally October arrived and we began rehearsals on stage. “Come on, gal,” Suzanne would smile as she pulled me center stage. “You got the pipes. Let ‘er rip!”

  The first time I heard my voice from the speakers, I nearly dropped the microphone. It sounded so foreign, like it belonged to someone else altogether. My voice shook as I tried it again. I noticed that people working hard around us to set up the sound system and the seating would stop to hear me, causing me to trail off like a lame-o.

  “I know what you need,” Suzanne said as she rushed off the stage. When she came back, she held up a red, white and blue sequined outfit in the design of the Texas flag. It had a fringed miniskirt and a bodice with spaghetti tops. “Isn’t this just the cutest? They’re going to eat you up when they see you.” She took me by the hand and dragged me to the trailer out back where we could change. “This is the best part,” she winked as she stripped out of her T-shirt. She wore no bra to contain her massive breasts, so they swung free as she reached for the blue gingham button-up shirt to round off her own denim miniskirt and boots. Though she had no shame, I had to look away until she was properly dressed. She tied her shirt off at the waist, showing her trim, toned and tanned abdomen. “You go out on that stage and you can be whoever you want to be. No one gives a damn as long as you look good and sound good. It’s up to you to create the illusion. After that, you’re bullet-proof.”

  She painted her lips ruby red as she preened in front of the mirror, teasing her red hair even higher. She pulled me closer and applied a soft pink lipstick to my lips and gold liner around my eyes. “You’ve got something special, sweet pea. You’re going to have a lot of people try to tell you that you don’t, but they’re just jealous. That’s why you have to believe in yourself more than anyone else. Don’t you ever let anyone else take control of your dream. You hear?”

  I nodded, even though I suspected that she was talking about my mom. What had Daddy told her all those nights they had cozied up to each other on our old, broken down couch?

  The closer we got to our show at six o’clock, the more nervous I felt. I had hoped Daddy would comfort me, but he was already in the zone, tuning his guitars (Nadine and Mabel,) as the band performed a sound check while the seats in the audience filled. I fidgeted in the back as I watched the people find their seats. Suzanne must have seen me, because she decided we all needed to have a group prayer before we started the show. Like I wanted to be even more visible before I really had to. Still, no one said no to Suzanne. Everyone huddled together right in front of the drums as she loudly conducted our prayer. “Dear Lord, thank you for this opportunity to do the thing that we all love the most. Thank you for your continued blessing as we entertain these lovely people. And be with our Lil Bit as she takes the microphone for the first time. Let us kick some ass, Lord. Amen.” Benny, the drummer, who had remained in his spot, added a rim shot of his own.

  It was definitely the strangest prayer I had ever heard, but some of the whistles and applause we got from the audience showed their approval.

  Suzanne took center stage at the microphone. “How y’all doin’?” she hollered to the sparse crowd. They all responded, but it was a lackluster roar from a very small crowd. Suzanne glanced over at Bill, her bassist, with a nod. “I want to start our show today with national anthem. We’ve gone through some stuff this past year, but we’re still standing. Because these colors don’t run, do they?”

  That got an even louder response.

  Her voice carried over the fairgrounds, drawing more people towards us. “I want every single American here today to stand on your feet, place your hand over your heart and sing along with our newest member of the group, Lacy Abernathy.”

  My eyes widened as I realized that everyone in the band had turned to me. I had wanted to shake my head and deny this request, but I was rooted to the spot.

  “Seems our Lacy is a little shy. Let’s show her some encouragement.” Everyone started to clap, which only made my stage fright more acute. I sent a helpless look to my Daddy. “There’s nothing to it but to do it,” he mouthed.

  I gulped hard as my feet carried me to the microphone. My voice cracked the minute I opened my mouth. A few people down front snickered, but several older folks nodded at me to encourage me. I cleared my throat and tried again. I wasn’t even sure I could remember all the words, as it was a song I never really practiced. The notes were coming out all sharp or flat, and I was sure I confused several verses. But the audience was right behind me as I sang. They sang along with me, which made it better.

  Daddy was right. The stage was a magical safe place.

  I missed the note at the end, but so did almost everyone within earshot. But it didn’t matter. We were proud Americans with something to prove. What better way to do that than singing an impossible song off key?

  By the time we were done, each and every seat was filled. Suzanne started the show with a song I had not yet rehearsed, so I tried to escape off stage. She wouldn’t hear of it. She dragged me back and we shook our fannies to the beat, dancing together to the delight of the crowd. I stayed on stage through all eight songs, singing along when they played a tune I knew. The applause was thunderous as we ran off stage. The crowd clamored for an encore, so we gave them one.

  Before we took our final bow, Suzanne introduced each of us. Daddy held my hand and helped me bow for the
audience. He kissed my hand before he applauded for me, which the crowd loved.

  In fact I felt nothing but love as the show ended and we stepped off stage. Daddy swooped me up into a massive bear hug. “You did it, baby girl,” he said. “My superstar.”

  We reached the trailer and he left Suzanne and me to change. She had slipped into a robe as I started to wipe off the makeup. She shook her head, encouraging me to keep up the illusion for just a while longer. “You’re a star, honey. Don’t ever let them forget it.” She grabbed her purse and withdrew two twenties. “Here,” she said as she handed me the money. “You’re a professional singer now.”

  I was floating on air as I exited the trailer. Daddy looked at the money in my hand. “And that’s how you do it,” he grinned. “That crowd loved you tonight, Lil Bit. Loved you. Wasn’t it everything I said it was going to be?”

  I indulged him with an absent nod. “Was Mama here?” I asked. I really would have liked for her to see how successful it was, how good it was… that it didn’t have to be bad at all.

  “She had to work,” was all he said.

  I nodded.

  “Hey,” he said as he held my chin up with his hand. “I’ve got a great idea. Benny loves roller coasters. Why don’t you go with him and ride some rides for once.” He straightened before I could answer, spotting Benny where he smoked a cigarette nearby. “Hey, Benny,” he said, calling the 17-year-old over to where we stood. Benny had long black hair and was skinny as a rail, with enough nervous energy to power half of Austin. “My baby girl here has never been on any of these rides.”

  “We can fix that,” Benny promised with a smile. “You haven’t lived until you’ve thrown up upside down.”

  I glanced back to Daddy. “Aren’t you coming?”

  “I will,” he promised as he kissed me on the forehead. “I just have to change first.” He studied my face for a moment. “My beautiful, talented baby girl. I’m so proud of you.” Before I could say anything, he trotted up the steps to the trailer.