Small Town Girl

his left, and sometimes when they were singing, their glances caught and Tess had the feeling that destiny had brought her home for much more than caring for Mary. It had brought her here for Casey. And for Kenny, too? Heavens, what in the world was she thinking? It was exactly one week ago tonight that she had come back home and he'd walked into Momma's carrying that bag of salt. One week wasn't long enough to be having such fatalistic thoughts. But she'd admit that every time she was with him she saw a new facet of his personality, and what she saw she liked, more and more.

He had chosen mostly familiar hymns for the group as a whole. For Tess's solo he picked 'Fairest Lord Jesus.' She approved heartily, and so did the choir after they'd run through it. The beautiful old traditional hymn crowned their practice with a sense of celebration that was still intact as the session ended and they said good night. A woman near Mary's age was one of the last ones to leave. 'I'm sure you don't remember me,' she said on her way out, 'but I'm Clara Ottinger. I've known your mother my whole life long. I remember when you were just a little shaver about so high, you used to stand up on the front steps in your yard and belt out songs to people who were driving by in their cars. I said then, That one's going to make a name for herself,' and you sure did. Well, good for you, honey.' She squeezed Tess's arm. 'We're sure proud to have you back.'

Everyone was gone. It was ten after nine and the vesti-bule door resounded with an echo behind Mrs. Ottinger. In the choir loft, Kenny picked up a crumpled tissue that had been dropped on the floor and tossed it on top of the organ. He turned and met Tess's eyes across twenty feet of disarrayed chairs and music stands. Funny how their silences had gotten more comfortable tonight.

'They love you,' he said.

'They love you, too,' she replied.

Nightfall had painted the windows black and left the cavern below in darkness. Two inadequate ceiling lights hung by chains over the choir loft, tinting the hardwood floor gold but making shadows of Tess's and Kenny's eyes. There was a peculiar intimacy to the place, and their purpose there. Like last Sunday morning when he'd been watching her from his back step, they recognized how their growing familiarity was changing them.

He turned his attention to straightening the chairs and music stands, moving along the lower tier while Tess did the same along an upper one. Somewhere in the middle, they met, the job done.

'Thanks,' he said.

'You're welcome.'

They stood close, silence all around, captivated by each other but fighting it. He turned and headed for the organ and she followed, giant-stepping down to the lowest level. He slid onto the bench and switched off the gooseneck light that Josh had forgotten to turn off, then reached up for his own music, which lay askew on top of the organ. While he was tamping it together she came up behind him.

'Kenny, I have to talk to you,' she said over his shoulder.

'Sure.' He put the music in a flat pouch and zipped it.

'About Casey.'

'What about her?'

'May I?' she asked, indicating the organ bench.

'Sure.' He slid over and she slipped onto the bench beside him, joining her hands loosely in her lap. She took a moment, realizing that what she was about to say would have a major impact on his life as well as on his daughter's. She did not take it lightly.

'I want to take her to Nashville to sing harmony with me on 'Small Town Girl.' '

He sat so still she knew he didn't like it. But he looked into her eyes and gave himself time to adjust to what she'd just said.

'I figured this was coming.'

'But I wouldn't ask her without asking you first.'

He waited a long time before looking away and whispering, 'Shit,' forgetting where he was.

'You understand what I'm talking about… a recording session on a major label.'

'Yes, I understand.'

'It's what she wants, and she's good enough.'

'I know. I realized that Sunday afternoon.'

'I've already heard from my producer and he likes what he's heard on the demo.'

She waited but he said no more, neither looked at her nor acknowledged what she'd said, but stared straight ahead at the empty wooden music holder on top of the organ.

She said, 'Look, I know what you think of me and-'

He waved off her remark. 'That was gone a long time ago, Tess, you know that.'

'All right, then, what you thought of me, but if you think I'd let anything bad happen to her you're wrong. I'd be there. I'd look after her. I'd see to it that nobody took advantage of her.'

'I know that, and I appreciate it. But what about her life?'

'You really think my life is so bad?'

'It's abnormal-no home to speak of, half the time traveling, no husband, no kids.'

'It's rewarding when it's what you love to do.'

He allowed himself a small explosion prompted by frustration. 'But it isn't what I want for her!'

She let his outburst fade away before challenging him quietly. 'The choice isn't yours, Kenny.'

Tormented, he stared her down before breaking. His shoulders slumped slightly as he admitted, 'I know that.'

Though she understood what he was going through, she felt compelled to speak for Casey. 'She'd get a chance to meet some studio musicians and maybe sing backup in some other sessions if nothing more. But Nashville's a small town. The word will spread fast that she's there as my protegee. Opportunities will happen for her after that. I want to give her that chance, Kenny.'

She gave him time to think about it awhile. At length he spoke as if arguing with himself, in a quiet voice, watching his thumbnail absently dent a line in the leg of his trousers. 'This is hard, you know. She's my only child and when you only have one you think about things like grandchildren and a place where you'll visit when you get old, and then you realize you're thinking selfishly and that you can't rely on others to make your happiness for you, but it's… it's hard letting go.'

She laid her hand on his bare arm. 'Of course it is.'

He looked down at her hand, then covered it with his own, rubbing the back of it and toying with an oversized silver-and-turquoise Indian ring occupying the finger where most women wore a wedding ring.

Realizing what he was doing he withdrew his hand and she took hers back, too.

'When would she go?' he asked, meeting her eyes.

'As soon as school is out. The album's scheduled to come out in September. They've already released one single from it. We'd have to get into the studio and record our song in June so there'd be time for mixing and mastering and distribution.'

'How long would she have to stay?'

'That's up to Casey. You can record a song in a single session. Sometimes it takes two, sometimes you actually get two songs done in one session. Just depends. If she comes, though, she can stay at my house until she finds a place of her own.'

He stared at her, thinking.

'I know lots of people in Nashville,' she reassured him, 'at radio stations and at the Opry, all over town. She won't have any trouble finding a job. You know the story-there are big stars who started out as ushers at the Opry. Kris Kristofferson started that way.' Still he looked unconvinced.

'Oh, Kenny…' She touched him again, then thought better of it. 'If it hadn't been with me it would probably have been without me, and isn't it better that I'm there to see after her?'

He hooked his hands over the edge of the bench, hunched his shoulders and stared at his knees. She could almost read his mind.

'I suppose you're thinking, 'Why did Tess McPhail have to come back home?' '

'Yeah,' he said, 'that's exactly what I'm thinking.'

Their eyes met again and they sat absolutely still beside each other, realizing there was more than one reason