Mayfly Melodies

Forty-One

Stephen

Don't judge each day by the harvest you reap but by the seeds that you plant –Robert Louis Stevenson

Gertie was almost completely packed up.

Bailey had been flitting about for the better part of the morning, shoving things into suitcases, stockpiling some of her mother's famous blueberry muffins, and making sure that she had all of her music prepared for her meeting with the record execs in Nashville.  She was leaving a couple of days earlier than expected to meet with an old producer friend of hers and to clean up a few tracks before she met the label and to attend some award show.

Stephen was sad to see her go even though he knew that she would be back soon.  She had made that abundantly clear as she was leaving over half of her belongings behind.  When he'd stayed for dinner the other night, he'd listened to her firmly state that she was coming back home after her meeting.  At the very least she would have things to pick up.  At the very worst she would be home for good.

He could all-but see the nervousness radiating off of her.  Stephen couldn't recall ever seeing Bailey this high-strung, not even when she was in the early stages of joining Chasing Mayflies.  At least now she had a little bit of presence in the music industry.  People knew who she was, even if they did associate her with a failing band.  All she had to do now was break out of that mold and she would be golden.

As he turned the hose on to fill the water trough in the paddock, he heard the front door of the house slam shut.  Stephen looked back over his shoulder as water poured out of the hose in a steady stream.  The entire Grant family was standing on the front porch.  He could clearly pick out Bailey in the centre of the group as she gave hugs and her family prepared to send her on her way. 

Stephen turned away to give them their privacy, watching as the water level in the trough rose higher and higher.  He wiped sweat from his brow with his free hand and momentarily halted the stream of water to take a brief drink from the hose.  He was just reaching to turn the old squeaky faucet off when he heard gravel crunching behind him.

Bailey had a lime green duffle bag slung over her shoulder.  Her curls were mostly tucked away into a loose braid but a few flyaway strands had come loose.  There were unshed tears in the corners of her eyes.  Leaving was never easy even if she was planning to return soon.

She smiled at him as she passed by, the expression strained.  "Hey, Stephen."

He nodded back.  "Hi."

Stephen watched as she popped open the trunk to the bug and tossed her duffel inside.  There wasn't much space left anywhere in the car.  From the way she was packing, it was hard to believe that she would be coming home again.  It looked as it had the first time she'd left for Nashville.  Back when he wasn't sure he'd ever see her again.

"I wondered if I would see you before I left.  Luckily I'm running a bit behind schedule," she said as she slammed the trunk shut with a bang.  Bailey winced as the metal creaked and took a few steps towards him.

She was more than a bit late.  Rob had told him the day before that Bailey was supposed to leave at nine a.m.  It was nearly noon now.  Given the fact that it was a ten-hour drive to Nashville, he expected that she was going to be fairly exhausted by the time she reached the city.

You just about ready to head out?" he asked.

She nodded and looked over at her full car before she shrugged.  "Ready as I'll ever be I guess.  I need to stop in town before I go.  I was gonna grab a coffee and some lunch to go from Annie's.  Sustenance for the drive, you know?"