Page 11 of One Day at a Time

She made a quick calculation. It was noon here, so it would be six o’clock in the morning in Nashville. She knew he’d have been on stage until the early hours of the morning as usual, so she didn’t expect a reply any time soon. Even then, it would depend whether he was working in the bar again tonight, or out in the backwoods somewhere doing a gig.

Their communication since he’d left last month had been a bit sporadic, but that was mainly the fault of the time difference and her decision not to turn whatever happened on his last night into something more than it was. Although, what it was had been pretty special.

Later that night, they’d lain on the sofa, still naked, still wrapped in each other’s arms, only a blanket wrapped around them to stop the chills from the draughty windows and the temperamental heating system that had switched itself off for the tenth time that day.

‘We should have done this a long time ago. Our timing sucks,’ he’d said, as he’d held his hand up against hers, palm to palm, as if comparing the length of their fingers. He won that one. His hands were huge, and rugged from years as a joiner, with little scars on the tips that were souvenirs of the guitar strings that he’d been playing since they were in primary school, when he had plucked out the James Bond theme tune at the primary one talent show.

‘It probably does,’ she’d agreed, ‘but I think there have been a few obstacles in the way over the years. You know, jobs, the fact that I lived miles away, your marriage, divorce, and before all that… well, you really weren’t such a great catch when we were in high school. Your voice didn’t break until you were about sixteen and you had some seriously questionable fashion choices, Elvis.’

He’d let out a howl of laughter and then playfully sucked on her shoulder until she’d squealed.

‘I was thirteen,’ he’d objected, feigning outrage. ‘And those blue suede shoes were iconic.’

‘Not on sports day.’ Her chuckle had come all the way from the bottom of her throat. It had felt great to laugh. Really laugh. And to feel another body next to hers. That hadn’t happened since she’d come back from Edinburgh to take care of her mum. She’d been in a relationship for a year or so with one of the other stylists in the salon there, but when she’d told him that she was moving back to Weirbridge, he’d decided that he didn’t want to do long distance. Or so he’d said. Maddie had a feeling he just didn’t want to do ‘sad girlfriend with a dying mum’. Either way, she’d known that she was well rid of him, even if she missed the closeness of a relationship. ‘Anyway, you were the one who already had all this in your head. You could have told me you felt something,’ she’d chided him, but he’d shrugged.

‘Like I said, the timing was never right. You’ve had enough to deal with, and I just wanted to be there for you without any complications.’

‘Urgh, you’re too nice,’ she’d groaned, making it clear that wasn’t a good thing. ‘It would be nauseating if I wasn’t already sick as a dog.’ That had earned another nibble on the shoulder that had made her shriek with the giggles. Their friendship had been based on teasing and mild insults since they were children, and she didn’t see any need to make changes to that now.

They’d ended up lying there until dawn, making love, laughing, talking about a whole load of stuff that didn’t matter and a few things that did.

‘Look, like I said in the letter I never meant you to see…’ He’d had a rueful grin when he’d said that. ‘…do you think when I come back from Nashville?—’

She had stopped him right there by putting her fingers up tohis lips. ‘Dylan, don’t. Not now. The last year has been a whole big mess of feelings and changes, and I don’t want to make any promises about what’s to come. My whole life was put on hold while I took care of my mum, and now I don’t know if I’m going to stay here, or go back to Edinburgh, or maybe somewhere different altogether. A friend of mine has offered me a job on a cruise line, and I’ve been talking to Jessie about maybe going to work at her son’s salon in London. I don’t know what will happen, but I do know that I just need to figure it out on my own. You go to Nashville, chase your dream. I’ll figure out what my dreams are now. And we’ll see what happens for both of us. In the meantime, let’s just be friends with no strings and no expectations, because I don’t want to lose that.’ Even as she’d said it, she knew she meant every word. She cared too much about him to mess it up with romantic complications or promises.

She’d still felt the same when she’d dropped him at the airport the following morning and he’d kissed her goodbye, before walking through to security, cowboy hat in hand, like a scene from a rodeo romcom.

The rest of that week had been spent adjusting to the new normal, while trying and failing to make decisions about her future.

‘How are you doing in that house by yourself?’ Jessie had asked her a few days later. It was a Saturday morning, before the first customers came in to the salon, so, as always, they were sitting in the café, having a pre-work coffee. Alyssa had been taking a break after preparing all the food for the day’s trade and was huddled in the corner with her boyfriend, Casey, who’d popped in before heading off on a two-hour drive to work. He was a project manager for a big development company and got sent all over the country for jobs. He’d been based up in Perth fora few months, so he rarely spent much time in the village. Alyssa’s grandad, Hugo, who worked part-time in the café was there too, sitting next to Val, who’d popped in on her way to the Saturday morning Zumba class at the community centre.

‘I lived on a solid diet of Easter Eggs last month and this arse isn’t going to shrink by itself,’ Val had announced when she’d started her latest fitness campaign a fortnight ago. She was still on it. ‘But, Alyssa, I’ll take a wee strawberry tart for after my Zumba. The young ones are always going on about how athletes should load up on carbs.’

Maddie had thought about Jessie’s question. How was she doing in Dylan’s house by herself now?

‘I’m not loving it, Jessie. It’s strange living there alone. Too much time to think. Which should be a good thing, but the problem is that I just don’t know what I want to do going forward. I don’t know whether to stay in Weirbridge, or to go off out into the world again, so I think I’m just procrastinating and putting off making decisions about anything.’

She wanted to be honest, but she didn’t want to say the wrong thing, or inadvertently hurt anyone’s feelings. Jessie had been too good to her for that.

‘Och, pet, that’s understandable. You’ve been through a lot in the last year.’

‘It just feels like the rug has been pulled out from under me and the person I’d usually talk to about that is Mum. She was my sounding board. I still feel a bit lost without her, and I know that sounds pathetic…’

‘Nothing about that is pathetic, Maddie,’ Val had told her, reaching over and squeezing her hand. ‘My Don has been gone for years now, and I still have things that I want to talk to him about. There’s no time limit on missing someone. No set number of calendar boxes to tick off until you feel right again. Although, Iwouldn’t be telling him about the Zumba. I promised there would be no more group boogie sessions after I broke my ankle falling off the stage at line dancing.’

‘Took two paramedics to lift her,’ Jessie had added. ‘And when she got to the hospital, she was still wearing her furry mules.’

The laughter had stitched back on the tiny patch that was keeping Maddie’s heart in one piece, and she’d sent up yet another silent thanks to her mum. She was sure that this community of people had been sent to hold her together while she rebuilt her life. They gave her time to grieve, time to be sad, but lifted her with love and really bad jokes. When her mum had been so sick that she couldn’t leave the house, Val had been an almost daily visitor, dropping off prescriptions and biscuits and endless chat. And when she didn’t have the strength to come to the salon to get her hair done any more, Jessie had pitched up at the house every week, roller bag in hand, and done it there for her.

Although, when Maddie had left them alone, she did often come back to see them all squatting in her mum’s room, with a bottle of wine open and a box of Lindt chocolates getting passed around. Those were some of Maddie’s favourite memories of that last year – watching them making her mum laugh until tears ran down her face.

Sometimes Alyssa came with them, bringing a box of cakes or sandwiches, or taking Maddie out for a drink, while the older women sat with her mum.

They were always on the end of the phone when they were needed. And now, they were all showing her the same generosity. They’d held her mum together then, and they were holding Maddie together now. Maddie was sure that she’d never be able to repay them. She’d had no idea this kind of communitygenerosity had even existed before she’d moved back and seen it for herself.

However, as she’d said to Dylan, the problem was that she still hadn’t decided if it was time to stand on her own feet and go build a new life somewhere else. Jessie had mentioned the option of working in her son, Grant’s salon in London, and he was coming up next weekend so she’d thought she could talk to him about it then. But did she really want to do that? Or should she stay in Weirbridge for a while longer? Given her housing situation, that decision might not even be within her control.

‘It doesn’t help that the lease on Dylan’s flat runs out in two weeks and there are no other rentals available within a ten-mile radius of here. All the vacant ones have been snapped up by families getting ready for the new school term.’