Mayfly Melodies

Thirty-Seven

Bailey

I listen to a lot of really old western and country music. There's a lot of cool stuff in there...all the heartbreak of the country darkness—Theophilus London

"How's the album coming?" Rob Grant asked as Bailey walked into the kitchen.

It was early morning, a little after seven. The sun was rising behind a plethora of white fluffy clouds behind which there was a smidge of clear blue sky that could be seen. It was a nice break from the rain that had plagued the county for the past five days.

Her father was sitting at the kitchen table, the newspaper unfolded out in front of him and a mug of coffee in his hands. He was dressed simply as he always was, a worn pair of Levi jeans and a faded red t-shirt he'd gotten in Florida when they'd gone on a family vacation years earlier. The phrase 'Life's a Beach' was printed on it. It was one of her father's favourite possessions.

"It's going well," Bailey said. She walked to the cupboard for a mug and a bowl. She filled the mug up with coffee and the bowl with cereal. She poured in some milk, grabbed a spoon, and then went to sit down by her father. "We've had to change around a few tracks and we're working on a new one tomorrow when I go to the studio."

"Think you'll have it finished in time?" He set his newspaper down, giving her his full undivided attention.

Bailey appreciated it. She'd always been closer with her mother than her father—it was just the sort of thing that happened when you were the youngest of three and the only girl. Her brothers had monopolized her dad's attention with their rodeo antics and this was what had originally led Bailey to barrel racing. In order to get into the boy's club, she'd had to act like them and that was what she'd done.

But with her mother things had always been different. They would spend weekends looking after the ranch and visiting Bailey's grandparents while the boys were away at the rodeos before Bailey had joined in. It was during these trips to visit Grandpa Ed and Grandma Cam than Bailey had first learn to play the guitar.

They'd started simply, chords and strum patterns and then moving onto nursery rhymes. From there they'd gone to church hymns and it was there that people began to realize Bailey's natural vocal talent. It had taken her a long time to migrate past her Grandparents' porch and to open-mic night at the diner. Longer even for her to begin posting videos on YouTube.

Her life had gotten crazy since all of that had began. From getting signed to Chasing Mayflies to where she was now. It felt like she'd been driving a hundred miles an hour down an old dirt road, no end in sight and no one to tell her to take it easy. Sometimes she felt like she barely had time to catch her breath, much less actually talk and catch up with her family.

These rare early morning talks with her father were a solace. She took it as life's way of telling her to take a breather and calm down.

"I think so," she said to her father in answer of his question. "Most of the tracks are in the final stages of being produced right now. Thankfully since I've got to get it to the label in two weeks."

It was currently the first of September. Bailey was only too aware of the impending deadline of September fifteenth.

"I'm thinking that I'll probably head to Nashville a few days before I'm set to meet with the label. Make sure that everything is in order and so I know for sure that I won't be late to the meeting. Plus my agent contacted me and said that he wants me to go to the Country Music Video Awards. He says it'll be a good way to get my face back out there and tease the possibility of new music." Bailey ate a spoonful of cereal.