Page 52 of Night Songs

Baby, don’t be ’fraid

I’ll be your light

Baby, don’t be ’fraid

When it comes for you

Baby, don’t be ’fraid

’Cause I’m there with you

The album ended, but the disc continued to spin on the turntable, emitting a fuzzy sound, and I strained to hear what it might be saying.

I felt a hand against my cheek, and I startled before seeing it was Micah. I told him I needed a minute, and I walked out the back to a small yard where a few smoked and murmured in the shadows. I took in the warm night as the adrenaline left my body, making me shake.

“Are you okay?” Martha asked from behind me, lighting a cigarette.

I took a deep breath and tried to compose myself. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little overwhelmed.” I took another breath. “That album is…” I didn’t even know how to describe it. “Why is it so different from her other stuff?”

Martha looked up at the sky. “She wrote it after she left Clayton and when she first met your father. It was the first album where she got to create her own sound. She said it was inspired by where she grew up in the mountains, and Eve and original sin—this idea of the cursed woman as created by the Bible.” She blew out a stream of smoke. “But I think there was more to it than that.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“She had demons, and I saw how they haunted her. I do think she felt like a cursed woman sometimes.”

“Like something bad had happened to her?”

“I don’t know for certain. She never talked about her past. But it was a sense I got—I’ve spent a lot of time around people like that.”

“Did my dad hurt her? Was he a bad person?” This was the question that had been haunting me.

She exhaled. “I don’t deal much in good and bad. He was like your mother—impulsive, creative, always in motion. I think that’s why they got along so well. But he had his own demons.”

“Like what?”

She paused. “He was so restless, and he wanted so many experiences that sometimes he hurt himself and others without meaning to—that was part of him being an addict.” She paused. “There was also the trouble with his family—when he dropped out of college, his parents disowned him. And no matter how much you dislike your parents, that hurts in ways you might not be aware of.”

I barely remembered my grandparents, but I knew the rigidity of my aunt and her “morals,” deployed like weapons whenever it suited her. She’d always lacked a capacity for understanding other people, was proud of it even, and I never understood why someone would choose to live such a limited existence.

“Did my parents love each other?” I asked.

She looked over at me. “I think so.”

“I wish I could have seen them together.”

She smiled sadly. “Me too.”

Back inside, I found Micah on the couch and curled up against his side. I told him everything Martha had said, and he stroked my arm as I tried to process this new information. Perhaps I had shared something with them after all, or maybe I was finally starting to see them as real people.

I suddenly felt Micah’s body stiffen against my shoulder. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I have to tell you something,” he said, his voice serious.

My heart skipped. “What?”

“I’m leaving Nashville in a few days. I’m hiking the Appalachian Trail this year, and I don’t want to miss the warm months up north.”

My face heated, and I could feel my heart beating faster, but I told myself to stay calm.Keep your voice level. Don’t let him know how upset you are.“I didn’t know.”