Tate (23 page)

I lowered myself to kiss her forehead. “I love you.”

She pulled me closer and we shared passionate kisses.

“I saw an angel, Maisie,” I said, pushing up to once again look down at her. “I’m not sure I can explain it, but I’ll try. I saw you sitting there, barely acknowledging my existence. I’ve told you all along that I wasn’t sure whether it pissed me off or intrigued me, but I had to know. And when you finally did look up, when you really looked at me, I saw sad eyes. It made me wonder what left you with such darkness in your soul. You felt broken to me in some way. It wasn’t that I wanted to fix you – I wanted to know who you were before whatever happened that made you so somber.

“And then, I fell in love with you, because you let me. You stopped pushing me away and let me in, a little at a time. When I started to open with my songs to you, Audra told me it wasn’t a good idea. She couldn’t have been more wrong. The fans love it, and they love it so much that they’re suggesting that I record some of the ‘Maisie’s songs’. Deidre’s been telling me about the messages I’ve been getting about that. I haven’t had a chance to talk to Andy yet, but I will. Acoustic, just me, but that’s a conversation for later.”

“What I want to tell you now is that you went from someone I wanted to know, to everything. You are everything to me, Maisie. When you aren’t with me, all I can think about is being with you again.”

***

Friday morning, the Las Vegas Times lay waiting on the table in our suite, along with some other items that Deidre had left for my attention.
A love affair played out on stage – Tate Morrow and his Maisie -
the headline read. I dreaded what the words would bring. Maisie was still sleeping, so I sat down with a cup of coffee and read an article that told – nicely – of our trials, and the perseverance of our love. But mostly it focused on my song choice each evening – my song for Maisie.

He’s courted ‘his Maisie’ in front of the world. We’ve been allowed a glimpse into a love that has blossomed and grown with every song he sings to her each night at his shows, and we’ve seen him stand defiant in his fierce protection of the woman he loves.

I thought about those words. It was a pleasant surprise to experience an article that focused on the good part of us, and not someone trying to hurt her. I read more about my career, but the two sentences about Maisie and I were powerful. I tucked the paper under my arm and went to our bedroom with coffee for her. I knew that she’d want to get a start on the day. The last-minute preparations and such would occupy her mind, and I wanted some alone time before the hullabaloo started. Carlene and Dion were arriving around noon and my show was at seven.

Curled on her side, Maisie was still asleep. I sat the coffee down and she turned.

“Hey,” she said in a sleepy voice. “What time is it?”

“Little before ten.”

“What have you got?” she asked, wiping sleep from her eyes.

“Coffee.”

“No,” she smiled, “Under your arm. What is that?”

“A love letter,” I replied, and handed it to her. She laughed as she took the paper. I watched her as she skimmed the article. I loved to watch her. Her eyes, always so expressive, say everything without words. I think I could see her heart and soul though them.

“Wow. My favorite part is that they say ‘his Maisie’. I am your Maisie, and I think about the first time I heard Andy say that. You are my Tate, and I thank God every day that you found me.”

“I didn’t find you, Maisie. God placed you in my path for us to be together and I can’t wait until tomorrow to share forever with you.” As I said the words, I heard a knock at the door.

I left the bedroom, closing the door behind me, and found Deidre in the common area.

“Good morning!” she said in a lively voice.

“Thanks for the paper – nice news for a change.”

“I have even nicer news!” she said, seeming excited.

“What’s up?” I asked. “You’ve been around long enough that I know when you have something good to share.”

She handed me a piece of paper and I looked at it.

“Get the hell outta town!” I yelled, as Maisie came out of the bedroom.

“Goodness, what is all this excitement?” she asked. I handed her the paper. “Garth?”

“
The
Garth! He wants me to call him! He asked me to pick one of his songs as the ‘Maisie song’ to open with and he’ll do a walk-on at Sunday’s show!” I said enthusiastically, repeating aloud what Maisie was reading.

I picked Maisie up in a hug and spun her around as Deidre laughed. “Garth Brooks, Maisie!” When I set her down, we were both giddy.

“Between us, Deidre. Don’t let this leak from our side. Not even Audra.”

She smiled and left us.

***

Maisie

The hotel arranged for the use of a sewing machine for my final fitting. Tate had gone to rehearse. Fay, Popie and her family, and Gabby went out to do the family things that Vegas offered. Finally, Dion and Carlene arrived.

“Do you have everything?” I asked, as Dion hugged me.

“I do,” he mocked.

“Let me see!”

“This first,” Carlene said. She handed me the box I’d asked her to bring and I lifted the lid to remove the contents.

“It turned out perfect, didn’t it?” I asked. Inside was a white sequined vest. I’d done the front and got it all ready the last time I was in the shop, and Dion had finished assembling it. You had to look hard to see it, but in the sequined fabric I’d stitched the word ‘love’, and small hearts in two larger heart patterns on both sides of the vest. It wasn’t obvious, very subtle, and only someone looking for it would notice. Tate would notice.

“That will be perfect under his monkey suit!” Carlene said with glee.

“I love it. Carlene’s dress next. I’m too anxious to see mine just yet!”

Carlene went in the bedroom to slip into the dress. When she returned, reality sank in. “I’m getting married tomorrow!” I squealed.

Seeing Carlene’s finished dress, I was joyous. It was exactly as I’d seen it in my mind. The cap sleeves sat just at the edge of her strong shoulders. The neckline dropped to a scooped cowl neck that was just low enough to show off her cleavage but not be too sexy. The purple fabric had a blue iridescent shimmer when she moved. The dress draped from the bodice and was the perfect style for her.

“You know me too well,” she said, as she proudly hugged me.

“Not
too
well - I know you,” I replied, and for some reason I began crying.

“I know, sugah. So many emotions…”

“Dreams, Carlene. So many dreams. I never dreamed of Tate. I hung on to dreams of Blake and I thought I’d never move on. I thought that I would be sad, broken Maisie for the rest of my life, living in a world where I saw, but no one really saw me. A world where I heard and observed, but I was obscure. Even with Blake, I observed the world. I didn’t really live it.”

“Your observations of the world around you have made you the lovely woman you are, because you followed your gut,” Carlene said.

“My gut has butterflies for the first time ever, Carlene - happy butterflies in the pit of my stomach at just the mention of Tate’s name. I didn’t experience that with Blake. I felt safe and cared for with him. I feel that with Tate, but I feel alive now. I finally feel like I can be who Maisie was born to be. I’m not Kitty’s daughter. I’m Maisie, a woman in love, about to embark on an incredible journey with an extraordinary man.”

I heard a sound, and I looked to find Dion bawling like a baby. “I was ready for you to spread your wings, that’s all,” he said, answering the question on my face. “You’ve been hiding for too long. You met
the
man, Maisie, the man who knows you. He knows your favorite color is white because it’s a palate for every other color to grow from. When you laugh, he lights up like fireworks on the Fourth of July. You fell in love with someone proud that you’ll be his other half, and that’s a bigger deal than anything I can imagine. Oh, I know that whole cliché about being complete, and that’s bullshit. You are two halves that make a better whole. I’ve seen it with Tate, too. He loves you just as you are, all your quirks and idiosyncrasies. Those things that you think are flaws; he thinks are perfect imperfections that make you unique. That’s what he told me. Your love songs, the ones he sings to you each evening are his declaration of love for you to the world…”

“Wait. My bag. I have something in my bag,” I said, and pulled the newspaper out for them to see.

“He really is my Mr. One and Only,” I said, after they’d both read it. “Now, we have to stop all this. I’m getting married tomorrow and my dress has never touched my body. We have to make sure it fits and that Tate sees a goddess when he sees me.”

“He won’t,” Dion replied. “He’ll see an angel.”

When he removed my dress from the bag, Dion just stood there holding it.

“Huh.” I drew in a breath. I couldn’t speak. It was even more beautiful than I had dreamed.

“You designed it, I just followed your sketches. Step in here to try it on,” he said, turning me away from the mirrors.

“But wait!” I said excitedly. “I can’t see!”

“Exactly!”

“But…”

“Maisie, humor him. You know how he gets his panties in a wad and he’s already been crying,” Carlene laughed.

I slipped my clothes off and stepped into the dress. It felt decadent. The fabric, the fit, the cut – it was perfect. Finally, Dion slipped his hand over my eyes. When Carlene drew in her breath I couldn’t stand it any longer.

“Let me see!” I squealed, pulling at his hands.

Dion turned me toward the mirror and uncovered my eyes. It didn’t say ‘new bride’, it said ‘I’m going to make this man notice every part of my body, savor every inch, and make him want only me.’ It was pale gold, like a whisper. I touched the fabric; it was smooth and fell in fluid lines. The bodice crisscrossed my body in a horizontal pattern, like arms hugging me. The neckline – piped with a tiny line of gold pearl beads - plunged, but not too far. But the back, oh my - the back of the dress was amazing. The fabric came together in the back and crisscrossed from the neckline, exposing the skin on my back as it met at my waist. There was a gold brooch adornment at the neck that was a surprise.

“Hair up! Oh, Dion, it’s more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. You did an amazing job. I have gold shoes,” I said, and noticed that Dion was crying again. “Stop it, or I’m gonna bitch slap you!”

I looked and Carlene was crying now too. “Y’all STOP! No crying! We’ve got work to do, don’t we?”

“I don’t think so,” Dion said. “It’s perfect.”

***

Tate

One more show. One more night, and Maisie Bolden would be my wife. I was ready. I grabbed Carlene’s hand and she walked with me to the place where the spotlight would light up at any moment. I was ecstatic when she said she’d join me on stage. Queen Carlene on stage with
me
. We put our heads together and came up with the classic from Loretta Lynn and Conway Twitty. While it really wasn’t a love song for Maisie, I thought about the idea that nothing could keep me away from her.

Hey! Louisiana woman,

Mississippi man

We get together every time we can

The Mississippi River can't keep us apart

There's too much love in this Mississippi heart

Too much love in this Louisiana heart

I enjoyed sharing the stage with Carlene. She held my hand as we belted out the powerful hit. I could see Mama, and she was having a blast singing along.

“Hey, Tate, that was lovely!” Carlene shouted at the end.

We had a late family dinner after the show and the table was loud with conversation about the festivities the next day - excitement that made me happy.

Later, Maisie got ready to go stay with Carlene. “This will be the first time in a long time that I don’t wake to that beautiful face,” I said as she gathered her things.

“You’ll be stuck waking up to this face for the rest of our lives,” she said.

“Have you any clue how much the thought of that excites me, Maisie?”

She stopped shoving her things into the bag she was packing and walked toward me. She drew me closer and laid her hand on my cheek. “I’m excited and terrified. I’m so happy to make this next step, Tate, but I’m scared of every tomorrow that lies before us.”

I started to say something, but she stopped me by placing her finger on my lips. “Wait. I want to make sure you understand. I’m scared because I want to be everything you want from me. I want to make you happy, Tate.”

“But Maisie, you already are everything I want, and you make me happier than I could possibly dream. I never knew that you could feel these kinds of feelings. Are you sure you have to leave me tonight?”