CHAPTER 3
"Are you okay, baby? You're too quiet for the first Friday night out we've had in months," said Matt. We had asked my father to take Finn overnight so that Matt and I could have an evening out. It had been a long time since our schedules jived and I was thankful to be out of the house and from behind my desk at the hospital. The last week had been one from Hell with two suspected cases of child abuse admitted through the ER, plus Finn had been battling a head cold, which had made him cranky and clingy. My energy was zapped and I felt exhausted right down to my bones.
"Just tired. Rough week," I said, rubbing the tops of my shoulders.
"Let me do that," said Matt, getting up from his chair. He stood behind me, gently massaging the tight muscles in my neck, shoulders and arms.
"Mmmmmmm, that feels so good, Captain," I said, closing my eyes and reveling in the masterful feel of my husband's hands.
"There's more where that came from," said Matt, leaning down to whisper in my ear. I turned my head just as he brought his forward, our lips meeting in a perfect kiss.
"Oh, gag," said Em from across the table. She and Severide had asked if they could join us. Since Finn had been born, our time for adult company had all but disappeared and I was thankful that they were here, even with Em's inimitable turn of a phrase.
"Shut it, Morrison," said Matt, in mock consternation, even though I knew he could get truly annoyed at Em's often childish behavior. She promptly answered him by blowing raspberries.
"It feels weird not to have a baby on my hip," I said, feeling like a part of me was missing.
"Can we get another round?" Matt asked the waitress as she walked by our table.
"Sure! Everyone want the same thing?" She asked.
"Yeah, but make hers a double this time," said Matt, shaking my shoulders so the waitress knew he meant me.
"But, Matt…" I started to say.
"But Matt nothing. You're gonna relax even if I have to get you drunk to accomplish it," he said, kissing the top of my head. It was times like these that I reminded myself just how lucky I was to have a man like Matthew. The waitress brought over our drinks and I happily took a big gulp of mine the moment she set it down in front of me.
"Wow, that's strong but damn, tequila is good," I said, puckering a little at the intensity of the alcohol and the tartness of the lime juice.
"That's my girl," said Matt, while rubbing my back. Between the sensation of Matt's hands massaging away the tenseness and the effects of the tequila, I was finally feeling more at ease and ready to enjoy the rest of the evening. As the four of us sat there chatting and laughing, someone started speaking over the PA system, grabbing our attention.
"OK folks, it's time to get started. It's open mic night here at The Roadhouse, so if any of you think you can sing, step on up here and show us."
"Matt Casey...is this the reason you picked this place?" I said. The sheepish grin on his face told me all I needed to know.
"Come on, baby...don't be mad. You haven't sung in ages. I thought you might like to...you know...get back into it, at least for tonight," he replied.
"I haven't sung anything except nursery rhymes for almost two years!" I protested.
"All the more reason to get your ass up there, Mads," said Kelly.
"But I'm not dressed for it. I look like an old biker chick," I continued to protest. I pulled at the white t-shirt and black leather vest combo I was wearing.
"You'll fit right in with this crowd of reprobates, Madster," said Em.
"Funny, Morrison. You look fine, baby. Get up there and belt out some Trisha Yearwood or Dixie Chicks for me," said Matt. All three of their faces were practically begging me to get up and sing. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I wanted to do it. I slugged back the rest of my Margarita, pushed my chair back and stood up.
"I'm going in," I announced. All three of my fans stood up and cheered me on as I made my way through the crowd and up to the stage.
"What are you gonna sing, little lady?" asked the band leader.
"Do you know anything by The Dixie Chicks or Trisha Yearwood?" I asked.
"We know 'em all, honey. Just take your pick," he replied, handing me a song list. I rifled through several pages before I settled on my song of choice.
"How about this one?" I said, pointing to "She's In Love With The Boy" by Trisha Yearwood.
"OK, honey. What's your name so I can introduce you?"
"Maddy Casey."
"Ladies and gentlemen...can I have your attention...up first at open mic night here at The Roadhouse is Maddy Casey and she's gonna sing a little Trisha Yearwood for y'all…."
The stage lights were nearly blinding me, but I could hear my cheering section's hoots and hollers loud and clear. My heart was practically beating out of my chest, so I grabbed onto the mic stand to steady me.
"On four, Maddy," said the drummer from somewhere behind me.
"I wanna dedicate this song to my husband, Matt...cos he's the only man that could make me get my ass up here and sing for y'all…" I said, uncertain as to why I said it with a Texas flair. The crowd erupted into a thunderous, drunken round of applause...and one very loud cat call that I was certain was Em's mouth. I managed to get through the song without completely embarrassing myself and to my delight, the crowd applauded when I finished. I made my way back to our table and into Matt's waiting arms.
"That was amazing, baby!" he said, kissing me and wrapping me in hug.
"You're biased, Captain and you know it," I said.
"No, he's right! That was awesome, Madster!" said Em.
"Seriously, Mads...you killed it up there," said Kelly.
"Yeah, yeah...you're all nuts," I said, sitting down and taking a sip from another margarita that Matt had ordered for me.
"How'd it feel to be up on stage again after all this time?" asked Matt.
"Great…scary as hell, but great. Once I got kicked off, it felt good," I said. I was pretty sure it was mostly the tequila, but I definitely felt exhilarated. We had another round of drinks while we listened to several people take their turns up on stage.
"Maddy? Maddy Casey, where are you? Are you still here?" said the band leader over the microphone. Startled at hearing my name, I cautiously raised my hand.
"Come up here, honey...someone has requested a song that they want you to sing."
"What the hell?" I said, sounding dumbfounded.
"Get up there, baby!" said Matt eagerly. Em and Kelly both started to yell and chant "Maddy!" over and over again. I felt a little like a deer in the headlights as I made my way back up to the stage.
"Who did this?" I asked the band leader.
"Some guy up at the bar. Do you know this song?" he asked, pointing to "Where Your Road Leads" by Trisha Yearwood on the song list. I told him that I knew the song, but had never actually sung it before.
"Well, honey...you did a great job on the Trisha song you did earlier. I'm sure you'll do it justice. You want me to give you the count again?" he asked. I nodded, still feeling a little overwhelmed. I grabbed onto the microphone and closed my eyes. The stage lights were blazing down on me, making me feel hot and sweaty. I took a deep breath in as the band started to play.
"I believe in miracles…"
"I believe in signs…"
"I believe that mountains move one prayer at a time."
"If I could be an angel…"
"I'd make your every wish come true…"
"But I am only human...just a woman…"
"Lovin' you…"
"Where your road leads, I will follow…"
"When your heart bleeds, I'll be there for you…"
"When your night grows dark and you can't find your tomorrow…"
"Then you can follow me."
As I sang, strange images began to pop in my head...me walking barefoot down a long white carpet...tall grass and blue flowers on either side of me...I had no idea where these images had come from and I tried to push them out of my head as fast as they came.
"Someday we'll look back and see our footprints in the sand…"
"Sometimes you would carry me…
"And sometimes you'd be in my hands…"
"If we could love forever…
"That won't be long enough for me…'
...walking slowly towards a large wooden arch...a tall dark figure standing underneath it...rows of chairs full of people scattered in the field…
"I wanna hold you tender…"
"Be your shelter…"
"All you need…"
"Where your road leads, I will follow…"
"When your heart bleeds, I'll be there for you…"
"When your night grows dark and you can't find your tomorrow…"
"Then you can follow me…"
"We can be each others guiding light.."
"Through this long and winding life…"
...watching my pink painted toe nails underneath the hem of white lace...coming to a stop next to the tall dark figure...looking up to see blue eyes staring down at me...taking my hands in his...heart pounding hard...feeling a little dizzy...
"Where your road leads, I will follow…"
"When your heart bleeds, I'll be there for you…"
"When your night grows dark and you can't find your tomorrow…"
"When you've lost sight of your dreams…"
"Then you can follow me…"
Beads of sweat were running down my forehead like someone had turned a hose on me. My heart was pounding so hard that I was certain it could be seen under my t-shirt. I had never sung that song before, yet I belted it out just now, like I had been performing it for years. I had no idea where that came from or the images that came into my head as I sang. I opened my eyes to see the crowd standing on their feet, clapping and cheering. Between the noise and the heat, my head was spinning. I felt off balance, like I was about to fall.
"Thank you," I said, before stepping away from the mic and down off the stage. I cut my way through the crowd towards the bar to get a drink. I needed to hold onto something to keep my hands from shaking.
"Hey, Mark...can I get a glass of water, please?" I said to the bartender.
"Coming right up, Maddy," he replied. He handed me a tall glass full of water with ice which I promptly gulped down. I put the cool glass up to my forehead as I glanced around at the people sitting at the bar. I wondered which one of them had requested that song.
"Do you have any idea who asked me to sing that song?" Before Mark could answer, the sound of a deep voice answered for him.
"I did...and you can still sing your hind off,"" a deep voice said, somewhere behind me. I turned around to see a man with a camouflage baseball cap pulled low over his face seated at a small table near the wall. Leaning on the wall next to him was a pair of crutches. He kept his head down, but I could see that he was a large man. His dark hair was long, down past his shoulders. It was pulled back into a ponytail that hung down to the middle of his back. He was wearing a long sleeved camouflage t-shirt. I could only see the lower part of his face and his square-shaped chin was covered with at least a week's worth of unshaven stubble. His lower arms rested on his thighs, a can of Guinness stout in his hands. His legs were long and muscular and I noticed that he was missing the lower part of his left leg. The pants leg of his jeans had been pinned up to just below his left knee.
"You can keep starin' if you want, but it ain't gonna grow back," he said, keeping his face turned down towards the floor. My cheeks flushed a little, unaware that I had been looking at the space where his left leg used to be.
"I'm sorry but, do I know you?" I stammered. He lifted his head up slowly and looked directly at me. The bright colors of the neon signs around the bar were reflected in his eyes, which even in the dark interior of the bar, I could tell were blue.
"Yeah, you know me...better than anyone," he said. Nothing about this man was even remotely familiar to me. I could not recall ever meeting him anywhere.
"Forgive me,, but you don't look familiar to me," I said, feeling unnerved. He took off his baseball cap and set it on the table, then turned his face back towards me.
"How about now, baby?" he said. I could see a long scar, swathing a path down across the darkness of his left eyebrow and onto his upper left cheek just under his eye. Without warning, the same images that had popped into my head while I was singing, returned. The tall dark figure with blue eyes...it was this man who was now seated in front of me. It all came rushing back to me. My mouth went dry and could feel my body begin to shake.
"Oh my God..." I said, my voice barely above a whisper. He grabbed the pair of crutches and slowly stood up, steadying himself before coming closer to me. When he was standing directly in front of me, he towered over me like a giant from a children's book. He was enormous, with broad shoulders and well defined biceps that pushed the limits of the fabric of his t-shirt.
"Yeah, Cookie...it's me, Jace. You sang that song to me on our weddin' day as you walked down the aisle, remember?" he said. I quickly tried to piece together the images that had come into my head...the long white carpet...the lace dress, the wooden arch...it all made sense now.
"I...I…," I continued to stammer. I stood there with my mouth open, but no words would come out.
"Jesus Christ, you're still beautiful...just the way I remembered," he said, reaching up to touch the side of my face. Just then, Matt appeared out of nowhere.
"Maddy, baby...that was amazing! I never heard you sing that song before, but you owned it!" he said, wrapping his arms around me. He seemed completely oblivious to the large man standing in front of me.
"Thanks," was all I could manage to say.
"Mark, can I get another margarita for Maddy?"
"Sure thing, Matt."
"She likes it with Patron Silver." said Jace. Matt whipped his head around to look at Jace, who had sat back down at the table.
"How the hell would you know that?" asked Matt, sounding annoyed.
"Because she's my wife," said Jace, in a low cool tone.
"She's MY wife, asshole. Who the fuck is this guy, Maddy?" Even if I could have formed the words to answer him, Jace answered for me.
"Name's Jackson Walker," he said, extending his hand out to Matt. Matt's face went white. He looked at me, then back at Jace as if he were trying to make sense of it all. As far as he knew, Jackson Walker died in Iraq years ago. He took me by the arm and started to pull me back through the crowd.
"We're going home," said Matt.
"I'll be in touch, Cookie," Jace called out over the noise of the bar.
And so it began.