Page 27 of Every Now and Then
Hayes
Now
Since Outlaw is the headlining musical act, our set at the Nashville Holiday Music Festival doesn’t start until the evening, so the black Lincoln Town Car picks me up at my condo in the early afternoon.
As we drive down the alleyway and approach the black iron gate of the artist entrance, I’m immersed in nostalgia, remembering the first time Outlaw performed at the historic Ryman Auditorium. Our first album was recorded but not yet released, and a larger artist asked us to open for them after their usual opening act cancelled at the lastminute.
I’ll never forget that performance. It was electric. The Ryman isn’t huge, seating less than 2,500 people, but man, it’s sacred. It was originally a tabernacle, and performing on that hallowed stage feels like a religious experience every time.
Upon entry, I’m met by security, who escort me through the maze of dimly lit backstage hallways to the dressing room where Outlaw will hang out until we’re needed. Along the way, I nod at people I recognize from the industry, stopping to chat with a few. This is Outlaw’s first performance since our previous tour concluded, and I can’t wait to return to the stage. The atmosphere back here is chaotic and loud, and it brings me back to the excitement I used to feel when we first started out.
Rowdy and James are already in our shared dressing room when I arrive, as are Charlotte and Aiden. We’re still waiting on Dumber, but he texted the group chat that he’s running late, which isn’t unusual. That boy will probably be late to his own damn funeral. Charlotte and James are immersed in conversation with Aiden discussing the round of television and radio interviews that we have starting soon, so I sidle up to Rowdy.
“How’s it going, man?” I say, clapping him on the back.
"Great." His eyes flick to the side, where his wife is curled up on a couch, absently scrolling through her phone. As if she can feel the weight of his stare, Bailey looks up. Rowdy shoots her a curious glance, and she responds with a subtle nod. It always amazes me how they can have an entire conversation from across the room without saying a word.
Turning back to me, Rowdy grins. “Bailey’s pregnant.” His face lights up like a kid on Christmas morning.
“No shit!Congratulations, man!”
I wrap him up in a bear hug before rushing over to do the same to Bailey. Lifting her off the couch, I twirl her in my arms, swinging her around. My exuberance earns me one of her charming laughs.
I am so damn happy for them. And if I'm honest, maybe a little jealous. As much as I want a family of my own, the older I get, the less possible it feels.
“If it’s a boy, you can always name him after me,” I suggest to Bailey with a cheeky grin.
"Fuck that," Rowdy yells.
"Well, you sure as shit aren't going to name him after you,Ralph," I tease, calling Rowdy by his given name.
"Watch your mouth, asshole."
“Watch your language, both of you! Soon enough we’ll have children around,” she chides. Bailey's words are stern, but they’re spoken with a wide smile on her lips. She's used to playing referee to our immature brand of humor.
This is perfect timing for them too. With the upcoming release of Outlaw's fifth album, our current contract with the record company will be fulfilled. M&M Records wants us to sign another contract, and we’re optimistic we can negotiate a more lucrative deal with greater creative control and flexibility this go-round. Likely, we’ll have time off between contracts, giving Rowdy plenty of time to be home with Bailey and the baby.
When Josh finally arrives, Charlotte rounds us up to start the press circuit. We spend the next ninety minutes answering variations of the same questions about the new album and what’s next for the band. After which, Char grants us a brief reprieve to grab some food and relax before we sit down to warm up and run through the set list, working out any kinks and last-minute jitters. Like all the other artists, we’re performing a mix of our greatest hits and some holiday classics.Our final number will beEvery Now and Then, the first single fromAlcohol and Orgasms,and it’s always nerve-wracking to perform a song live for the first time.
With the speed and precision of a NASCAR pit crew, our roadies and audio engineers do a quick setup. Charlotte and our security guys hustle us to the side of the stage, where we wait until we’re announced. Since this is a festival with lots of musical acts performing today, the stage is simple—all black with risers set up for James’ drum set and enormous video screens lining the rear and sides of the stage. Even if we weren’t sharing the stage, Outlaw is an old-school country band, and our focus is always on the music. We don’t do wild pyrotechnics, elaborate sets, crazy dance numbers, or theatrical performances.
Strapping my guitar across my shoulders, I take a deep breath and bounce on the balls of my feet, anticipation humming through me like electricity.Damn, I’ve missed this.Every one of my senses is dialed up to eleven. The adrenaline rush, the heat of the spotlights, the weight of thousands of eyes, the roar of the crowd, the bass vibrating beneath our feet. There’s no other feeling like it in the world.
Josh meets my eyes with a grin, just as psyched as I am to get back out there.
It’s a beehive of activity backstage. People circulate around the area, each with a lanyard and backstage pass hanging around their necks. Mostly, I ignore them as I take a moment to center myself.
But then I glimpse a tall woman with shoulder-length golden hair walking away from me. Her frame is unnervingly familiar, and I recognize her instantly.
Without conscious thought, I call out, “Annabelle!”
She falters, pausing for a split second, before she continues walking, never turning around.
I push past Rowdy, ready to follow her, but Charlotte grabs my elbow, nudging me back toward the stage entrance.
“You’re on in less than a minute, Hayes. You can’t disappear now.”
Rowdy shoots me a questioning glance. I shake my head. My mind’s playing tricks on me.
