Forty-Seven
FORTY-SEVEN
APPEARING IN STUDIO
The tour’s in Arizona with two days off. Deegan Records flew us back to Nashville to record our first EP, The Alcove Songs . Don’s producing. He and I have talked a few times and come to an understanding. I understand why he did what he did and he understands it will take me some time to warm up to him being my uncle. Despite the drama, I’m glad to have an uncle in my life, one who wants to know me and support me. One who is kind. It’s a bonus he’s a great songwriting mentor too.
Cass picks us up from the airport to take us to Don’s studio. He took a red eye last night so he’s already there getting everything set up. The four of us pile into Cass’s SUV and head down to Franklin, happy for some time off from the tour and thrilled to be recording our songs.
When we get there, Harper’s waiting at the door to greet us. We hug her hello and make our way into the studio. Don leans out from under the recording console where he’s plugging in some cables.
“Hey, y’all. Glad you made it. Excited to get started?”
“You know it,” Miguel says, rushing over to give Don a high five .
“I think we’re still trying to wrap our heads around the fact that this is happening at all,” I say.
“You wrote great songs,” Don says. “Let’s bring them to life.”
Don shows us around the studio, a barn-like structure behind his main house. Inside it’s dark and cozy, the floors covered in woven rugs with low-lit lamps scattered around. He has a huge recording console in the main room, the walls lined with a gorgeous collection of guitars. There’s also a recording room and a vocal booth as well as a small hangout area and a kitchen.
“This is really nice,” Kick says. “Thank you for letting us be the first to record here.”
“We brought the contract.” I pull it out of my bag with a flourish. “Signed and everything.”
“Perfect.” Harper already has her phone out, messaging someone. “We can get the team engaged right away, especially on socials.”
“That would be helpful,” I say. “Cheddar’s been very hands-off since the Nashville show.”
“It was quite a night, wasn’t it?”
We turn to see my mother standing in the doorway. She’s backlit by the sun, dressed down in simple black pants and a white button down with subtle make-up. Her hair is pulled back. She’s in flat shoes.
“Candy,” Harper says, surprised, “great to see you.”
“Mind if I steal my daughter for a few minutes?”
“Oh, sure,” Don says. “We’re still getting things set up. Take your time.”
Kick squeezes my hand and kisses my forehead. “I’m here if you need me.”
I follow my mother outside the studio. We haven’t talked since the big reveal. She took off as soon as the conversation with Deacon and Don was over and I haven’t had it in me to be the first one to reach out.
Outside, I start walking down the long gravel driveway. This is just like my mother, showing up when I’m about to do something really exciting for me. I’m walking too fast, like my body is trying to keep up with my racing thoughts. Why did she think now was the right moment to talk about things? Today is supposed to be about the band and our music, not my family drama.
“I thought we should discuss what happened,” she says, keeping pace with me. Her voice is measured, like she’s scared I’ll run if she says the wrong thing, which, I might.
“How did you even know I was here?”
She smooths her hands down her shirt. “It’s a small industry.”
Our footsteps crunch against the gravel. “So you’ve been talking to Don.”
“Penny, I wanted to…all of this is…really difficult for me.”
“Difficult for you?”
I glance at her out of the corner of my eye. Her expression is sad, defeated.
“For both of us,” she says.
“Did you tell Polly to post that photo?”
She throws her hands up. “I still don’t understand why you’re performing under this other name. What’s so wrong with being a Lovejoy?”
I stop walking and turn to her, arms crossed.
“But I’m not a Lovejoy, am I.”
“The thing with Deacon was a mistake, a mistake I’ve regretted for twenty-five years. You’re a Lovejoy.” She clasps her hands in front of her, her fingers squeezing so tight her knuckles turn white. “That’s what you’ve always been,
“But you never told me. There’s been this huge truth out there about me, about who I am, and you kept it from me. All the years I didn’t fit in, felt like my life didn’t make sense, that there was something missing.” I start walking again. “The whole reason I came to Nashville? I was looking for a connection to my father. Imagine what it was like for me to learn John Lovejoy wasn’t my father at all. ”
She’s a few steps behind me when she says, “But I’m still your mother.”
I turn around. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Make this about you. You and Polly have been doing that to me my entire life.”
She shakes her head. “You’ve never been supportive of Polly’s career. Or mine.”
“You left me . I grew up alone in Polly’s mansion. The housekeeper was more of a mother to me than?—”
“Penny!”
She’s hurt. She’s angry. But I am too.
We both take a beat. There’s so much unsaid between us I don’t know how we’ll ever dig it all out.
“Did you go on the Sparrow tour to punish me? Because of this…fantasy that I left you as a child?”
“I went on the Sparrow tour to have something that wasn’t tainted by Polly’s inescapable persona.”
Her hands go to her hips. “We worked hard for that persona.”
“Great. Good for you. But it’s not what I want.”
Mom steps off the driveway and sags against a tree. I can see her thoughts written across her furrowed brow. She’ll never understand why I’m not head over heels to have a famous sister who never gave me the time of day.
“Does Polly know? About Deacon?”
Mom stares at the sky, her lips twitching. “She’s known for a long time.”
It’d be easier if she slapped me across the face. My relationship with my sister has always been strained. She’s never liked me. Maybe now I finally understand why.
“Let me guess. She blames me for John Lovejoy’s death?”
“This conversation is about you and me, not Polly.”
We’re interrupted by Kick jogging down the driveway, a hesitant look on his face. “Don says we’re ready.” He looks at me intently. “Do you want me to ask for more time?”
Even if I did, it wouldn’t be enough to fix what’s broken.
“I’ll be right in.”
He gives me a close-lipped smile and heads back inside.
“You’re good together, you and Kick,” Mom says. “I wish you’d let me manage you. I could make great things happen.”
A humorless laugh escapes me. “You still don’t get it, do you?”
“I just want to be a part of your life, Penny. I want you to let me in.”
I steel myself and remember Cass’s advice to focus on what I want, what I need. Challenging my mother isn’t easy, but I’ve proven I’m able to stand on my own.
“If you want to be a part of my life, then be my mother, not my manager. Just be my mom. Support what I’m doing because it’s what I love, not because it might make you money or help your profile. Be there for me, just because.”
She nods, like all of this should be easy.
“I never meant to hurt you,” she says, her voice thick with emotion. “I thought…I loved you the best way I knew how.”
Despite the years of heartache, despite the deceit, I believe her. I’m not ready to forgive her, but I believe she never intended for things to end up the way they did. She’s not evil, just…broken.
“I’m still really, really angry,” I say, “about a lot of things. But I’m willing to acknowledge you’re attempting to make an effort. So, let’s try starting over. Be my mom. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
She walks over to me and takes my hands in hers. “I haven’t been perfect, I know that, but I want to be in your life. Please believe me when I tell you that I promise to make things better between us.”
It doesn’t feel like nearly enough, but it’s a start. Hopefully, it’s a new beginning.