Page 2 of Beneath Southern Stars

“I promise. You shouldn’t be expending your energy on this stuff. Spend time with her, Katie. That’s what she’ll need. The memories.”

She gave up trying to hold back the tears weeks ago. Now, they fall freely and it breaks my heart each time. If I could take on her pain, I would.

“Don’t let her forget me, Ry. Please. I couldn’t... just please don’t. I know you’ll meet someone, and she’ll be the mom Pepper knows but please tell her how much I love her. She is my greatest gift.”

Sliding onto the bed next to her, I pull Katie to my side and place a kiss to the top of her head.

“I love you, Kathryn Marie Davis Miller. Thank you for giving me our baby and for always believing in me, especially when I couldn’t for myself.”

“You’re going to do remarkable things, Ry. I believe that with all my heart.” Her words are slower, her energy depleted. As I move to help her settle in and take her nighttime meds, shestops me. Our eyes meet and I can see the woman I’ve known and loved slip away. “Live your life, Ryan. Please live your life and show our baby what happiness looks like.”

A simple request that seems like the biggest mountain to climb. How can I live my life when my daughter is facing hers without her mother?

Chapter One

Ryan

“Tellme again this is a good idea.” It’s not like me to require reassurance, or it didn’t used to be like me. I’m no longer the man who woke each day with confidence and a clear idea of what was ahead. Now, I sit with a shadow of the unknown lurking around each corner. My eyes lift to the rearview mirror and confirm Pepper isn’t listening to my conversation. Thankfully, she’s completely unfazed by anything that isn’t on the screen in front of her.

“It’s a great idea. Not just because it was mine either. You need this. Both of you.”

As much as I wish she were wrong and escaping our life wasn’t a necessity, Cora’s right. I know she is. Even if it hurts a little to hear the confirmation. Running from my life seems drastic and as though I’ve failed. But, with each passing mile, I can feel the tension I’ve held in my body release. My shoulders drop at least an eighth of an inch and my molars don’t give any indications they may crack from the force of my clenched jaw.

“I’m not asking this because I’m needy, remember that.” Cora laughs and it draws a small smile to my face. For a man who was once told I had a million-dollar smile, I can’t remember the last time one came easily. “What if we get there and it’sworse? I know the doctors said she just needs time, but it’s been a year, Cora.”

“Ry, you can’t put a timeline on grief. Believe me, it never goes away, the days simply look different. We’re adults and loss is difficult to process. Pepper was only four years old when Katie passed. Children don’t have an understanding of time. Heck, sometimes I just decide to take an everything shower and you’d think I went away for a month. Abandonment and sadness are probably running through her veins. What she needs—you both need—is time together to create new memories without the ghosts of the past at every turn.”

Sighing, I let her words sink in as a small giggle from the backseat draws my attention. It must have been loud enough for the Bluetooth to pick up because Cora says, “She’s still there, Ryan. That giggle is proof. Her words may be few and far between but not lost forever. Keep spending time with her and talking about Katie. A change of scenery will be good for you both.”

We talk for a few more minutes and I promise to keep her updated if anything changes on my end and she agrees to run interference with my former in-laws should she see them. Which, we both know she will since they’re her neighbors and Katie’s mother can’t help but worry I’m doing enough.

Leaning back into the plush leather seat, I hum along to the familiar songs on my playlist. Times have changed since I was a young musician touring the region piled into an SUV with four other guys. If I concentrate, I can almost feel the metal spring of the bench seat poking me in the back. Or smell the stench of a group of twenty-something-year-old guys full of testosterone and dreams and a lack of shower. Those days feel like a lifetime ago; I suppose in many ways they were. Before I became a father. Before fame and all that comes with that—bad and good. WhenI was just Ryan, a guy who happened upon a little luck and believed he could do anything.

I never loved the celebrity of what I do, but it’s part of the hand I was dealt. Thankfully, living outside of Nashville with so many other industry people in the area, I was able to blend in amongst the masses. Living a quieter life after the divorce helped. I focused more on writing and less on performing, which is how when Katie was diagnosed we were able to keep things quiet for months. One hospitalization and a list of rumors later, the truth was revealed on our terms.

No matter how quietly I try to live, fame still follows. She may have come onto the scene because of my celebrity, but Katie built her own reputation and presence in Nashville. Her loss is felt not only by our family but the public too.

Lost in thought, I almost miss the sign naming the small town we’ll call home for the foreseeable future. Spending the next few weeks away from friends and family seemed like a bad idea at first. Now, it feels like the break we all need.

The whispers and sniffles in the kitchen yesterday did not go unnoticed. Katie’s parents are good people, and I don’t for one second believe they are trying to hurt me or make things more difficult for Pepper. I hope to never experience their level of pain in losing their daughter. Hell, I’m currently living in a constant fog myself, but this isn’t about us. We have to put Pepper’s needs ahead of our own. Help her through the loss of her mother. The emotions she doesn’t understand. With our family therapist’s support, I managed to convince them of the importance to give Pepper a change of scenery.

I think after spending the holiday together yesterday, a cloak of sadness heavy around the table, it wasn’t as difficult to accept our absence for the next several weeks.

With my promise to be back by Christmas morning, they waved us off this morning with a few tears in their eyes but smiles on their faces.

Magnolia Grove, Alabama was not on my radar. I knew I needed something the opposite of our daily life for Pepper. One night while she slept, I typed in the search engine “family friendly small towns during the holidays within driving distance to Nashville.” The one town that stood out was Magnolia Grove. I was blown away by the festive photos, calendar of events, and positive remarks on various visitor message boards. Not that I’d admit this publicly, but I did fall down a rabbit hole of short videos on social media.

Pressing the button to pause whatever new show she’s watching, I ask my daughter, “Pep, we’re almost there. Are you excited?”

Her face gives nothing away, but I’ll take the slight nod as her being thrilled. What I wouldn’t give to hear her sweet ramblings. To listen to her talk to the dolls and stuffed animals she plays with each day. I am one of the lucky ones to get the occasional whisper of a word. Her grandparents aren’t as lucky. I know they miss her voice as much as I do. Therapists and doctors assure me it’ll come back.

With each passing sign ticking down the miles until we enter the city limits of Magnolia Grove, the muscles in my shoulders continue to unravel. I glance in the rearview mirror again and see Pepper looking out the window. The shadow of a grin on her face gives me a little reassurance this isn’t a bad idea. I follow the directions on my GPS as we roll through town. It looks almost like a movie set. Bountiful trees in shades of yellow and orange line the streets. Storefronts are decorated for the season and after-holiday sale. We pass a large fountain and a park with families all about. Women pushing strollers along a walking path chat as they sip from travel mugs. Children play in the largepatch of grass, obviously thrilled to have the day off from school. Waves from the mothers to a man on a riding mower as he passes by confirm the close-knit relationships you expect from the residents of a small town.

This is the right place for us. At least for now. According to Gordon, my manager, the town has its own celebrity among its residents and although Mattie Lincoln was forced into retirement, he’s still well-known and after a quick search, nothing online was mentioned about his life in Magnolia Grove. Anonymity is important to me, especially when my daughter is in my care so I can only hope the same courtesy will be extended my way.

With a few more turns into a residential neighborhood, I am finally on Magnolia Lane and according to my GPS only a few hundred feet from our location. Although there’s not a soul around, I flip the signal and turn into the driveway. Set far off from the road, the large house comes into view, and I let out a whistle. If this is Gordon’s idea of something simple, I may be paying him a little too much.

The exterior has that intentionally weathered look that a lot of the homes have on home improvement shows. A sprawling wrap-around porch makes me wonder if I should have invited my family to come for the holidays. I can imagine my mom sitting in an Adirondak chair with her morning coffee. I don’t love the idea of scaling the stairs multiple times a day, but I understand the need for the home to be elevated on stilts. One bad storm and the river is likely to rise to a level easily flooding a ground level home.

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