Page 108 of A Country Kind Of Love
“We were. Your momma was my guardian angel. She looked out for me when nobody else would. I am an only child. Your mom became my big sister figure. We had our ups and downs like any siblings, but we spent the majority of our high school years as best friends.”
“What happened?”Peyton asks.
“What makes you think something happened?”
“I’ve never heard of you,”Peyton says.
“You haven’t heard my new name.” Shonda smiles softly. “Did your mom ever mention someone called Dreena?”
Peyton knows that name, or she knows a version of that name.
Dreena.
Dre.
“Wait... are you Dre?”
Shonda holds her hands up. “Inthe flesh.”
“Oh my god. I thought you were a guy!” Peyton stiffens. “Sorry, I don’t mean any disrespect; she just didn’t elaborate to Dreena. That would’ve mademore sense.”
“That’s okay—”
Peyton interrupts, “Wait, why did you change your name?” She instantly regrets asking. It isn’t any of her business, but she’s too inquisitive for her own good. “Sorry, you don’t needto tell me.”
“It’s a long story. It involves a drunk of a father and witness protection, but he’s long dead so there is no need to hide my identity anymore. I just never saw the need to go back to Dreena. I like Shonda; she’s a badass.” She winks. It’s the first time Peyton has felt at easearound her.
“I agree.” Peyton wants to know more. “Why did you stop talking?”
“I had to move away. Cut all ties. It was part of theprogramme.”
“That must’vebeen tough.”
“Only to leave your mom. She’s the only real friend I ever had.” That made Peyton sad. Shonda seems lonely. She doesn’t wear a wedding ring; maybe she’s never been married. Does she have kids? Peyton doesn’t spy a family portrait on her desk. There’s been no talk in there few encounters of rushing to catch a son’s baseball game or a daughter’s ballerina lesson. Is she still alone, even after allthese years?
“I moved back to Nashville years later, and your grandparents told me she’d moved away. They gave me a forwarding address, so I sent a letter. I asked if we could get in touch. After a few weeks she replied. We wrote to one another for a number of months. We were pen pals, and it brought me joy. She shared ideas for new songs, photos of your brothers and you, and I shared my latest chart-topping predictions.” Shonda clearly has fond memories of those days, but her smilefades fast.
“Why didn’t you stay in touch?”
“We grew apart. Your mom had a life with your dad, and you guys. I was a bachelorette, going out every weekend and hustling to make a big break in the music industry. There was no bad blood; our interests and priorities just changed. It happens.”She shrugs.
“You didn’t speak for over twenty years?”
“We spoke again about ten years later—briefly.”
“Oh, what about?” Peyton sits forwards. There’s more to the story; she can sense it.
“You.” Shonda switches her legs. “She’d seen me in the paper. There was an article about my speedy rise to the top of the record label. I was dubbed the next female Clive Davis. I knew how good a singer your mom was. I assumed the CD she’d sent me was hers. She’d come to cash in a favour from an old friend, but it wasn’t your mom.” Shonda sits up, she brushes her trouser legs and proceeds to stand.
“It was... me?”
“Correct.” Shonda slips both hands in her pockets. She paces from one side of the cold concrete office to the next like she’s about to deliver an important speech.
“I don’t understand,”Peyton says.
“In the subsequent days. I called your mom. I tried to offer her a recording contract. It was the best I could offer at the time, but it would’ve seen her dreams start to take shape. She declined. Her life was in California. Her family was the most important thing. In her words, “her dreams had been and gone”. That’s why she sent your voice. You were a child, maybe eleven years old, but your voice was good. The control you had and your range, it was impressive for your age.” Shonda walks over to her desk. From the third drawer down at the bottom she pulls out a brown envelope. She hands it to Peyton.
“What’s this?”
