THE voice on the other end of the phone was probably one of the most recognized female voices on the planet. Country music superstar Melody Mason Montgomery accepted the charges for the collect call and then asked with a laugh, “Money problems, Bobby? Why are you calling me collect?”
“Hey, girl.” Bobby greeted. “I’m on a payphone.”
“What are you doing on a payphone in Virginia?” Melody asked. “Where did you even find a payphone in Virginia? Are you in a museum?”
Melody and Bobby had both signed with the now defunct Patterson Records early in their careers and their artistic paths in the industry had paralleled many times on the road from Nashville to stardom. They had both been awarded many prestigious industry honors when they were newcomers and the gossip rags continuously tried to put them together as a couple, christening them “Meloby” and “Bobbody” and such.
The truth was more interesting. Bobby and Melody were friends. They had a great deal of respect for each other professionally and they shared a love for Christ and a common interest in supporting charity, especially with their annual Christmas albums, but neither of them had ever seriously considered a relationship that went beyond that respectful friendship even before she married James Montgomery.
“I actually called to talk to James. Is he free?”
“I think so.” Melody dropped the teasing tone. “You okay, Bobby? Everything all right?”
“Not really, Darlin’. But I hope I can handle it. I just need some advice and James is the smartest guy I know.”
Melody said, “I can’t argue with that. Hang on, hon.”
Bobby took a few deep breaths while he held the line, then he heard James Montgomery pick up. “This is James.”
“Hey, it’s Bobby.”
“Bobby! How are you? What’s up?” James Montgomery was the M in M & L Electronics, an undisputed genius, and Melody’s adoring husband. When he and Melody were newlyweds, James might have perceived Bobby as a threat until he met him backstage at a concert in Jacksonville. At that moment, James had realized the kind of close relationship Bobby shared with his wife and, since that day, he had called Bobby Kent his brother in Christ.
“Well, I think I just did something stupid,” Bobby admitted.
“If that’s true, I would find it astonishing. What happened?” James asked.
Bobby Kent then told James about how his parents, family, and friends of the family, had deceived him for the last eight years or more. He told him about his beautiful daughter. He told him about Carol Mabry. Then he told him about the confrontation he had with his parents.
James said, “Well, Bobby, some of that sounds amazing and wonderful and some of it sounds just awful.”
“Uh, I’m not quite done. After I left my parent’s house I did something really stupid.”
“Go on,” James urged.
“Well, I sat here in this park in my rental car and polished off the better part of a six pack of beer.”
The line was silent and then James said, “Okay. You got me. I find that astonishing.”
“Pretty stupid, huh?” Bobby confessed.
James sighed. “Well, yes, but let’s not focus on that. To tell the truth, after my first wife was murdered, I could have become a raging alcoholic, myself. Let’s talk a little bit about something else. You said you did something stupid, but, really, I think you didn’t do one stupid thing. Not one.”
“Really?” Bobby asked. “Now I’m astonished.”
“Nope. I counted. I think you did about five stupid things.”
“Oh.”
“That I know of,” James clarified.
“I appreciate your candor.” Bobby asserted, his tone droll.
“I think the first thing you need to do is throw away any remaining beer or alcohol you have access to because God knows drinking is not going to solve anything. Would you agree?”
“Already done.”
He could almost hear James nodding. “Good. Now, do you have a safe place to stay to sleep it off? Can you get a cab?”
“I have a place in mind.”
“Good,” James said in an analytical tone. “Now, tomorrow morning you need to get down on your knees or all the way down on your face and you need to talk to God, Bobby. You told your father you were going to be a better dad than he ever was? I don’t think getting drunk and keeping your child from her grandparents is starting off right. Do you?”
“I was so angry, man.”
He could hear the understanding in James’ voice. “You know what, Bobby? Even though I’ve never once seen you lose your temper, you should know that I understand. And you should know that you had every right to be angry. But they’re your parents, Bobby. You have to honor them. You have to. Even when they mess up. It’s the first earthly commandment and the first commandment with a promise.”
That got him in the gut. The verse echoed in his mind, Honor your father and your mother. “I really do, don’t I?”
James rhetorically elaborated, “At least you have your parents here on earth to honor. That’s more than either Melody or I can say.”
“I knew calling you was a bad idea.”
James chuckled. “I love you, brother. Can we pray?”
“Oh, heavens yes. Please pray with me.”
“Let me get Melody.”
James briefly brought Melody up to date on the current situation and the three of them prayed together. Melody disconnected and James said, “I want you to promise to call me tomorrow. I’ll leave word with my office to put your call through. Promise?”
Bobby nodded, then remembered to speak. “I promise. Thanks, James.”
“Don’t mention it. Just call me tomorrow.”
“Okay, bye for now.”
“Good night, Bobby.” James hung up.
CAROL walked into Lisa’s room and looked down at her sleeping child. She untangled the covers from her legs and pulled them up over her prone daughter, smoothing them down. In the dim light, Lisa looked a lot like her father, but softer somehow. Carol leaned over and kissed the tiny freshly scrubbed cheek, then left the room.
She massaged the tense muscles in the back of her neck on the way down the stairs, picking up pieces of dress up and baby doll paraphernalia as she went. She had court at nine in the morning and she’d planned to work the night before. She had a lot she needed to do to finish preparing, so she went into her office and powered up her laptop.
The doorbell startled her an hour later. She looked through the peephole and saw Bobby Kent, so she opened the door for him. As soon as she saw him, she could guess he’d been drinking. Then she smelled him and knew it.
“What’s wrong, Bobby?”
He stumbled into the house and leaned against the wall. “I’m sorry to barge in on you like this, but I’ve been at a park down the street, and I realized I really shouldn’t drive anywhere. I tried to call a cab from the payphone but I didn’t have any cash. Can I use your phone?”
“Ever heard of a cell phone, Bobby?”
He blinked. “I’ve had seven. The tabloids always get the number and then somehow it gets published. Got tired of buying new phones and suing the carriers.”
“Come with me.” She took his arm and steered him to the kitchen. “What happened at your parents’?”
He sat down at the table and rested his head in his arms. “Money. They wanted me to stay in Nashville so they could have my money.”
She was on her way to make coffee, but, at his words, sat down with him. “I’m sorry. I think I guessed as much.”
“I shouldn’t be here in this condition.” He raised his head and rubbed his face. “I don’t like to get drunk, normally. I don’t even drink, really. But it seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“I remember in college you didn’t drink at all except that one time when we, uh, celebrated.” She felt her cheeks fuse with heat. “Champagne as I recall.”
“Very funny.” Bobby grinned. His sleepy eyes and crooked grin did funny things to the rhythm of her heart.
“Why don’t you go to the spare room upstairs and sleep it off?” she suggested, taking his hand to help him up. He stood, a bit unsteadily, and let her lead him up the staircase. She stopped at the door at the very end of the upstairs hallway and opened it. “This is the farthest from the noise that will explode around here about six in the morning,” she said.
Bobby leaned against the door and looked at her with hooded eyes. “You should hate me, Carol,” he observed quietly.
“For many, many years, you were my least favorite person. Yesterday afternoon, I let it all go,” she told him. “Sleep well, Bobby. We’ll try to be as quiet as possible in the morning.” She moved to go past him.
“Carol,” he said, taking her arm and pulling her against him. He held her like that for several seconds, his eyes on hers, then he started to lower his head, but she put her index finger on the dimple in his chin to stop him.
“Bobby, you’ve been drinking and I have court in about ten hours.” She pushed against him, knocking him a little off balance, enough for him to release her. “Go to sleep.”
She turned from him and went back downstairs, wondering why she had a silly grin on her face.