Page 29 of Just A Kiss

“Mommy, do you think she’ll let me help her sing?” Paisley asks Lindsay. It sometimes catches me off guard when Paisley calls Lindsay mom, but she started doing that on her own after Tucker and her married.

We finally pull into the parking lot, finding a spot about halfway back. Not bad for how many people will eventually be at this festival. They have some areas dedicated to people with RV’s and campers who stay out here all weekend long, and other areas for those of us that drive in or just come for some of the events.

Once Paisley is out of the truck, she slips her hands into one of Tucker’s and mine. We’ve walked with her like this more times than I can count in her life. She loves to swing between us as we walk across the dirt lot.

We make our way to the backstage gate, and sure enough, our names are all on the list. We’re handed badges that will allow us to come and go as we please while here today.

“Hey, guys!” Reese greets as she opens the door to her tour bus and lets us in. It’s a little tight with all of us, plus her husband Austin and her daughter, but we make it work.

“Reese!” Paisley calls out as she launches herself at Reese, wrapping her arms around her body.

“Paisley, girl! You’ve gotten so big!” she tells her as she picks her up.

“I’m six now,” Paisley tells her, holding up her fingers. She finally asks her burning question that she’s asked all of us multiple times in the past few weeks. “Can I sing with you?”

“You want to sing with me?” Reese asks her.

“Yes! I’ve been practicing!” she excitedly tells her.

“Well then, I think we’ll have to make that happen if your daddy is okay with it,” she says, turning her attention to Tucker for approval.

“We told her that it had to be okay with you and your crew.”

“It is absolutely okay with me,” she tells him.

“How about you come with me to soundcheck in about twenty minutes. We can get you your own microphone and everything.”

The look of shock on Paisley’s face is everything. This little girl's day has just been made.

“Y’all can come to soundcheck if you’d like. I’ll introduce you to the other bands here, if they’re around. I think Lady A will be there, maybe Thompson Square, as well.”

“That is so cool!” Allison squeals. “I freaking love Lady A.”

“Hillary and the guys are so nice; you’ll love them!” Reese tells her. I couldn’t have planned this better if I tried. Everything just seems to be falling into place today, and from what I can tell, Allison has no clue I’m about to pop the question.

* * *

“Before I closeout my time with y’all tonight, I’ve got a very special guest to bring on stage. As y’all know, this is my hometown, and I’ve got a lot of family around. One exceptional little girl is attending her very first concert and wanted nothing more than to help me sing a song tonight. So please, get on your feet and give my little cousin, Paisley, a round of applause.”

We all cheer as loud as we possibly can from our center stage seats. She walks out all proud-like, her sparkly boots flashing with the spotlights hitting them. If she’s nervous, you can’t tell one bit with the confidence that she struts with. She helps Reese belt out one of her early hits, and the crowd sings along. Lindsay is filming the entire thing, which I’m sure Paisley will want to watch a million times over in the coming weeks.

Reese finishes her set, and the stage crews start their quick tear down and set up for Lady A’s set, the last one for tonight.

“Hey, Reese is asking if all of us can come backstage for a bit,” Lindsay says, holding up her phone as if to show off the text she just received. Really, this is all just part of the plan.

It's go time!

* * *

Allison

Something is going on.What that is, I have no freaking idea, but something is going on. Not only has Lee been acting weird, but so has Lindsay. I’ve been trying to figure out what it could be, but nothing is adding up today. I don’t know if I’m just paranoid or what, but I just have a feeling something is up.

“Did you have fun singing on stage?” I ask Paisley when we get backstage to meet up with Reese.

“Yes! Did I do good?” she asks me.

“The best!” I tell her, bopping her nose. She’s just so darn cute. “Maybe you can be a professional singer like Reese when you’re bigger.”

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