Page 58 of Lady Sings the Blues

“I’m not Dawna. I’ll never be Dawna. I’m Elise. I’m always going to be Elise.”

“Don’t you think I know that?”

“No Beau, I don’t think you do.”

“Dammit, come home now.”

“I can’t—not yet.”

“Elise, where are you?”

“I might be outside Nashville.”

“Nashville?” He screams into the phone. “What the hell you doin’ in Nashville?”

“I wanted a Starbucks?” Here I am, reverting to answering him in questions.

He, however, doesn’t answer me. He hangs up. Part of me aches for him, for making him worry or whatever, but the other more dominate part at this moment is pissed right the hell off. I feel like a prisoner the way he won’t let me live life. The man seriously needs to chill with the overprotective bit. How would the Horde even know where I am? It’s Tennessee for crying out loud.

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