Page 50 of The Roads We Follow

March 14, 1976

Nashville, TN

Dear Chickee,

I’m sorry I haven’t been writing. Truth is, I’ve never felt so tired. Between waitressing in the evenings, writing and rehearsing new songs in the afternoon, and playing gigs on the weekend that are mostly to empty bars, all I want to do is sleep. Troy gave me some pills from a doctor friend that will help me stay more alert and decrease my appetite. Troy says it would be better if my weight matched Luella’s. I suppose he’s right, I could stand to lose some pudge around my middle. Guess I should probably cut back on the grilled-cheese sandwiches we take home from The Lounge, too.

Russell hasn’t missed a single gig we’ve played. Once he was our only audience member. He called out song requests and yelledencoreafter we walked offstage. We had a good laugh, even though I could tell both Luella and I wanted to cry.

In many ways, this dream is much harder than I thought it would be, but I’m happy. Tired, but happy. I love our tiny apartment and driving Lima Bean to work every night with my best friend. Oh, and you’ll bethrilled to know, we found a church to attend every Sunday (as long as we get home at a decent hour on Saturday night). I’m planning to call you tomorrow. I miss your voice. Why do phone calls have to cost so much?

I love you,

Lynn

P.S. I got your birthday package in the mail. I’m saving it till Friday. Luella is baking me your famous lemon cake, and all our friends will be over to celebrate. No dieting on birthdays.

October 3, 1977

Nashville, TN

Dear Chickee,

I decided a while back that unless something really big happens, I’m not going to write it down. There are too many almosts and too many disappointments to rehash them all. The guys say “that’s just life in Music City” and “we can either take it or leave it.” Well, we took it all right, and you know what? We got our first big out-of-state show! We’re playing a whole set, too. The owner is connected to other venues, and we might have enough bookings to be on the road for several weeks. I’m working hard to shed a few more pounds before Luella coordinates our stage outfits. Troy assured me that these are the same pills fashion models take to stay trim, and seeing as he dates so many beautiful women, I’m sure he knows what he’s talking about.

He also says that if we keep working hard, we might be ready to cut our first album this time next year. Can you believe it?

One more thing, and this one is top secret, but Luella and Russell are in love, and I’m the only one who knows. Our contract with TriplePlay Records states that Luella and I are to remain unattached for the purposes of building our public personas and creating widespread appeal. Luella promised me she’d never break our pact or put Russell over our dream. I trust her.

I miss you,

Lynn

13

Micah

I’ve read the contents of nearly two of my mother’s journals at this point, and all the while my mind has continuously jumped from the past to the present. More specifically, to the moment right before Luella’s town car left the parking lot and she spoke her daughter’s full name for the first time.Raegan Lynn.While most of my questions about my mother’s life as a rising star remain unanswered, that is the one I keep coming back to tonight. Raegan was born more than a year after our mothers’ friendship and careers blew up, so why would Luella choose to name her baby after her?

When I stand up from the bed to stretch my back, the sudden shift of the mattress catapults the journal closest to the bed’s edge to the floor. With an agitated sigh, I bend to pick it up, only to see the drawing I’d flipped past yesterday while at the coffee shop. At the time, the charcoal sketch of a building I had no reference for didn’t stand out as anything of interest. But tonight, when I read thewordsCarter’s Ballroomscripted across the bottom under the date 1977, the spinning in my head comes to an abrupt stop.

And suddenly, I know exactly what I need to do. And better yet, where I need to be.

The Uber ride to Carter’s is short, but I run into a jam when the box office out front is closed and all the exterior doors are locked. The red signage states:No Reentry. I’m just about to sleuth my way around the perimeter in search of another way in when a young couple stumbles out the main entrance, too busy groping each other to have a care in the world about me or anyone else for that matter. I don’t hesitate to slip in behind them.

It takes several seconds to orient myself in the room. The lights are low, but the stimulus is high. There’s a full bar surrounded by a massive crowd. My eyes scan the dance floor in front of the stage while music pumps in from somewhere unseen. The vaulted ceiling is about the only antidote for the claustrophobic setting.

Right when I’m beginning to doubt my ability to locate even one Farrow woman in this overstuffed space—much less all four—I spot Raegan in a group of familiar faces, and for nearly a minute I’m too awestruck to take my eyes off her. Every movement she makes is captivating. The way she leans into a conversation when someone is speaking, the way she finger-combs her curls over one shoulder only to have them spring back in disobedience, the way she sways in time to the music as if in a private dance no one else is invited to. Only, I want to be invited.

I stretch my neck from side to side and remind myself why I’m here. And then I’m on the move. Luella’s wig choice this evening is nearly black, the darkest one I’ve seen her wear so far. I don’t know much about hair, but the shocking shade is anything but natural looking.

A song has just ended onstage, but the applause is so loud Luellais all but shouting across the small circle gathered around her. Her hands are as animated as the expression on her face. It’s then I notice Adele’s arm looped around the waist of a young woman who favors her in nearly every way.

“Mind if I join you?” I break into the circle at Raegan’s side.

She whips around so quickly, I shoot out a steadying hand at her middle back.

“Micah?” Raegan gasps. “I thought you were taking the night off.”

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