Page 39 of Missed Exit

“We’re not talking about me and you.”

“I want to. Can we?”

“I don’t know, Law. Are you ready?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be ready?”

“Because I have questions. And I’m not sure you’re willing to answer them, but if you want to talk about the possibility of there being an us, then I need you to be ready to do that.”

“Ask me whatever you want to know.”

“Why do you always say you know so much about Derringer when you don’t seem to know anything about him at all?”

He sits on my couch with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. Finally, he looks up and spits it out. “I got signed at his age.”

“Signed to do what? Baseball?”

“No, Greta. I didn’t play baseball. I played guitar and sang. Just like Derringer. Well, not just like him because there are few people who have ever picked up a guitar and stepped up to a mic who are as good as he is. He’s got a voice that stands out from a sea of talented voices. They’re all similar. He’s unique. But those similar voices that aren’t nearly as good? They’ve got a far better shot because they’ve got more than just the voice. The voice alone isn’t enough. Not even a voice like his. The reality is that people far less talented than him are going to accomplish a hell of a lot more.”

“You’re a singer?”

“I was.”

“What happened?”

“I was madly in love by the time I got the deal. On top of the world after. We moved to Nashville and found a one-bedroom apartment that felt like a pitstop on our way to a mansion. But it didn’t happen as fast for me as we thought it would. And I was to blame for most of the delays. I bought into my own hype, and thought I knew more than I did. Thought I knew more than everybody did.”

“And?”

“And she got tired of waiting. She met someone who understood things I didn’t, someone who knew how to actually take control of a career while mine was spinning out of control. She got her mansion.”

“And then what?”

“I quit. Gave up.”

“Please tell me you are fucking joking! Some gold digger walked out on you, and you just gave up on life?”

“She had aspirations that included wealth, yes, but blaming her for my choices isn’t fair. I know now that she and I never would’ve lasted, but I was young and in love. It was the realest thing I’d ever known. When I lost her, I thought I was losing everything that mattered. The truth is I knew I’d already fucked up so much more. I was scared and confused and heartbroken. I wasn’t ready, Greta. Not for any of it.”

“You never wanted to try again?”

“Some chances only come along once in a lifetime.”

“That sounds like some cop-out bullshit to me.”

“What happened to kindness and understanding? Softer voices?”

“I think you need tough love more than you need any of that.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah. I am right. Derringer has made mistakes, but you’re projecting yours onto him, and that’s not fair.”

“There’s more to it than that. I know what it takes to make it, and it’s hard at any age. But he needs a few more years of the real world before he takes that leap. He’s not ready. If he gets his shot now, he’ll fuck it up.”

“Maybe he wouldn’t if someone believed in him enough. Even if he did fail on the first try, he might have the guts to try again. And he might not fail the second time out. Not everybody lassoes the stars on their first attempt, Law.”

“You about done?”

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