Almost Home (NG2)

Uneasy

The day after the Haywood party, Nash woke with a groan. Tyler was on his couch. Why did he volunteer to be the babysitter? On tour, Wesley had the job. Maybe he should call him over. The only reason he didn't let Tyler pickle his own goose and he felt the need to step in was because of Rob. He was a friend and with Beau Haywood nowhere in sight, Rob would probably take charge. There was another reason, too, but it was just a gut feeling.

So Nash had a snoring beast on his couch, and he had a lyric bouncing around in his head. Rob had put off his comments about his neighbor by saying she was a cute kid. Was the guy blind? She wasn't a kid anymore. He started thinking of Savannah as a girl and how his feelings transitioned.

Dang. He promised he wouldn't write about her. He would have to make it about Rob's girl and every other girl in America. He needed more information.

N: Hey man, when did you leave?

R: Too late.

N: What did your little girl do that was so cute?

R: Are you a perve?

N: Just thinking about lyrics. About growing up.

R: She danced in tutus and tried to keep up with the older girls. She rode a pink bike. She loved it. It was a long time ago.

N: Thanks.

He could go with that. Savannah didn't dance, although they rode bikes. A long time ago there were three of them. He missed his brother, at least the one he grew up with. They each got something from their dead daddy. He got musical ability and Lawson got the parts of him that caused his death.

Savannah made the wrong choice. She flipped a coin and should have picked heads. Nash worried about her. She looked so damn sad. He'd like to write about the sad girl, but he made a promise.

He hid in his bedroom and called his momma. She always sounded so cheerful.

"Hey Nash. Are you done with your concerts?"

"One more New Year's Eve. We'll be back on the road in the spring."

He had work to do. He was to appear on a Christmas special for a rising Nashville star. She wasn't under Beau Haywood's label, so it surprised him to be asked. Unlike Wesley and Angel, who worked for the band, he had an agent who worked for him. Tommy-boy was good and used Nash's position as lead vocals and the face of Almost Heaven to get him more visibility. It was a business, but Nash just wanted to sing. Tommy-boy even had him do some commercials. What the hell did he know about motor oil?

"What about Christmas? Will you come home?"

"Momma, you know I can't do that."

"I don't understand. She's his wife."

"Yeah, but I wrote the song." And all the ones after.

"I like the one about the beach. When I hear it I say that's my baby boy."

He chuckled. "I ain't a baby no more."

He was four years older than his daddy was when he hit the tree. He wasn't sorry he didn't have two kids, but someday he might want them.

"The little girls are getting bigger. They're excited about Christmas."

It wasn't even December yet and everything was about Christmas. He would spend the day at Clyde's like he always did.

His mouth ignored his brain. "How's their momma?"

"She's fine. Hun, everyone here is fine. We're having another Thanksgiving because Lawson was away on Thursday. Why whatever his load was couldn't wait a day or two, I'll never understand."

"Have a good day, momma."

No need to open his door because he could hear the snoring. He picked up his guitar and started to strum. He had a song to write.

It was afternoon when Tyler woke and headed to the bathroom. The effort involved some grunts and a few cusses. The drummer drank regularly, but he rarely got drunk.

Nash put down his guitar and went for some water. Tyler came out of the bathroom and ran his hand through his hair.

"What's that crap are you playing?"

"Just working on a song."

"Damn, sniffling shit."

"Hey! The shit sells records. Did you want to write one?"

Nash stopped himself from giving Tyler crap about just banging on the drums. He suspected his lack of contributions caused him to drink. Tyler rode Nash and Clyde's coattails and he knew it.

"What the hell happened last night?"

"We went to ol' Beau Haywood's party."

"Yeah, but you drank like it was initiation week."

"Your damn friend."

"What are you talking about?"

"I just wanna touch 'em again, but she wouldn't leave with me because of preppy boy."

Nash took a moment to put the pieces together. Rob wasn't a prep boy. He wasn't a musician or a cowboy impersonator. Nash wore black even though he was a good guy. Black tee, black skinny jeans his balls hated, a big ass belt buckle and cowboy boots. Even his hat was black. Clyde the cowboy wore a stupid plaid shirt.

His insult to Rob was the least important thing he said. Had he been fooling around with Cayla Haywood? Should he tell Rob?

"Man, are you feeling okay, because I've got to shower and do some stuff."

"Yeah, I'm going home to crash in my bed."

Nash called before he showed up at Clyde's door. Tillie greeted him with a kiss on the cheek.

"What d'you do with him last night?"

"Threw him on my couch. He left while I was in the shower. I don't care how, but he must have left his car at Haywood's."

"I swear each of Beau Haywood's girls gets younger and younger." Tillie had her disapproving mother face on.

Her son and daughter were playing around them, not concerned with the adults.

"Rob has implied things meaning missus is nothing like this town thinks."

"I like your friend. He's normal and I like normal."

"We may have a problem."

"What now?" Clyde sounded impatient.

"Tyler mouthed off about touching Rob's girl. He could be all talk, but Rob's on the verge of settling down."

Clyde ran his hand through his hair. "Did you believe him?"

"My gut's uneasy." Nash groaned.

"We can't piss off our label."

"Why'd we bring him along with us?"

"He's a hell of a drummer." Clyde spoke the truth.

"Yeah, but I stopped liking him two tours ago. I resent how I do the work and he reaps the benefits."

"What about me, man? You could be a success solo without us."

"Not true, man. You sing and play a hell of a bass. I need you."

"We may need to get Wesley in the loop."

"Yeah, Angel too."

Clyde sighed. "In the meantime, we'll keep an eye open and get some proof."

Tillie said, "It's probably one sided. What would Haywood's daughter want with a loser like him?"

"We're big and he's part of us."