Page 46 of Missed Exit

The Agate Ridge Session

AtGreta’sinsistence,Derringerbrings Whitley with him to dinner this time.

She’s still anxious about showing him the song, but cooking seems to be her favorite outlet for anxiety. I never would’ve dreamed the woman who forgot to turn the oven on for a pizza was actually such a damn good cook.

There’s a lot I wouldn’t have dreamed back then.

He shows up with two bottles of wine again, one red and one white. “I figured why break tradition, right?”

Greta beams as she accepts the bottles. He’s got almost as much charm as he does talent. It’s probably kept him out of some trouble he deserved, despite all the trouble he found. He hasn’t missed a show time in a couple of months now. Insurance paid off his old truck. Access to family money ensured he got all the extras possible on the new one.

That’s not likely to happen again if he records the song that we’re finally ready to share with him. They really might cut him off completely. Then again, if my instincts still count for anything, he won’t need anyone to help him buy him anything else if he can keep his nose clean and keep charming a crowd.

The kid’s on his way, whether he’s ready or not. If I don’t get him signed, someone else will.

Whitley brought a cake for dessert. It’s not until she lifts the lid on the box that we see it’s a birthday cake. She pulls two candles from her purse and pushes them into the frosting.

Derringer shakes his head like he’s embarrassed, but he’s not fooling anybody in the room. He loves the attention. “I didn’t know you brought candles.”

“Twenty-two, huh?” I feel like I should’ve known it was his birthday. There was a time it wouldn’t have occurred to me to feel bad about not knowing something like that. I can definitely chalk that change up to Greta’s influence.

“And a whole lot wiser than I was at twenty-one.”

“But still plenty dumb,” I assure him.

He laughs. “All right. But if I keep getting wiser every year, maybe someday I’ll be as smart as you.”

“Put a lid on the charming bullshit. It’s not going to work on me.” I shake his hand and wish him a sincere happy birthday. “Are you opposed to talking business on your birthday?”

His face lights up, and I know what he’s expecting. But before we get to that . . .

“Greta is not only an amazing host, she’s a songwriter.”

“Oh yeah? Anything I might know?”

She shakes her head. “Not yet. But you were the inspiration for one. I’m not really a songwriter, just the lyrics. Lucky for me, I know a music man, one who saw some promise in my lyrics and put a whole lot of effort into making them more than I could’ve imagined. He’s the reason it’s a song.”

“And she’s downplaying her own talent, but you’ll recognize that as soon as you hear it.”

“Before you hear it,” she says. “I need you to know that I wasn’t trying to pretend to know your life, Derringer. Your stories at dinner just set the wheels in motion, and I wrote what I wrote. You inspired it, but I never meant in any way to—”

“We’re going to be here all night if you don’t tell her to stop talking so you can hear the damn song and decide for yourself how you feel about it.”

His smile is sheepish. “With all due respect, Greta, I think I would like to hear this song.”

“We should sing Happy Birthday first,” she counters.

Now, even Whitley shakes her head. “We can do that later.”

I open my notebook to the whole song and hand it to Derringer. And then, with my guitar across my lap, I introduce him to it live.

He looks back and forth between me and the page, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, until the last note is played. And then he looks directly at Greta. “It’s like you pulled these words from my soul. Would you let me sing this?”

“That’s why we’re sharing it with you,” I say. “With the hope that you might want to sing it. But I want you to consider the consequences you might face before you commit to anything.”

“Definitely,” Greta says. “We don’t want to encourage anything that would hurt your relationship with your family.”

“No, ma’am. If family ties can’t withstand a song that tells my truth, well, that’s on them. Not you. I’d be honored to sing this song. Hell, I’m dying to sing this song. Honestly, it deserves more exposure than it’ll get with me, though.”

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