Cowboy Casanova

Chapter 13

TIM POV: Somehow I'm stuck mentoring for some talent competition. Luckily there are practically no country acts. There might only be one... I don't know. I guess it's a blessing though, so I can get out of the house for a bit. Faith has been screaming at me whenever I get near her. 

"Tim, you sure you want to be drinkin'? They have to film some of this, so I'm not sure if being wasted is going to look good." My manager says. 

"I'm fine." I say, getting up to enter the "rehearsal room". "What show is this for?" I ask. 

"American Idol." are you serious? I've stooped to a new low.

"Next time, you are running this by me." I say. My manager laughs. 

"It's good publicity." He says. I roll my eyes as I spot the girl I'm mentoring. Holy shit. "Tim, this is Carrie." He introduces her. She looks star-struck. 

"Hi! Wow, this is a huge honor. Thank you so much!" She says, shaking my hand. 

"No problem." I say. She has a strong twang. I can quite pick what area it's from. "So what song are you singing?" 

"Bless The Broken Road." She says. "It's one of my favorites." She seems very serious, but a little flustered.

"Okay, well first, tell me a little about yourself." I say. She smiles that kind of smile that instantly makes you smile back, kind of how Faith and I used to be. 

"Well, I'm from Oklahoma," That's it! "whatever I sing comes out country, and this is my first time in a big city." really? 

"Welcome to LA, then." I say, she smiles and tucks her hair behind her ear. It's ironic, because they flew her out to Nashville to record this. "Alright, lets hear you sing." I grab a guitar and begin to strum the song. I wonder if all the camera's are wiggin' her out. It's definitely something she has to get used to. 

"I set out on a narrow way many years ago, hoping I would find true love along the broken road. But I got lost a time or two, wiped my brow and kept pushing through. I couldn't see how every sign pointed straight to you...Every long lost dream led me to where you are, others who broke my heart they were like Northern stars, pointing me on my way into your loving arms. This much I know is true. That God blessed the broken road that led me straight to you" She sings flawlessly, then looks back at me smiling and laughing for approval. 

"That was incredible." I say, meaning every word. It's hard to even describe what she has in her voice. I've never heard it before. 

"Really?"

"Yeah," I say, then remembering I'm here to give advice. "you have incredible high notes, so I would showcase those a little more. You know, hold out some things here and there, and you should be golden." I say. She nods and smiles. 

"Thank you." She says, giving me a small hug for the camera. 

"That's a wrap." My manager says, although I'm pretty sure it's not up to him to decide when we are done. 

"Nice meeting you, Carrie." 

"Nice meeting you too." She says, flashing her bright smile at me. 

"Good luck." I say, as my manager practically drags me out of the room. 

"She has eyes for you." he says, not sounding enthusiastic at all. 

"You think?" I ask honestly. 

"You have a wife and three children, need I remind you?" he nags. "You're on a tight leash after the whole Dallas incident anyways. Hanging around girls like her is asking trouble." He says. 

"She's like the most innocent thing..." 

"Yeah, but you are not Tim." He says, shoving me in the back of the suburban. 

"So you think I could ruin this girl?" I theorize. 

"No, I think you could get drunk, trick the innocent girl, then ruin your family and everything else good in your life." He says. I roll my eyes. "Tim, I'm serious. Sleeping with other stars is a disaster... She'll sell you out for a nice, big check and fame. It'll paint you as the bad guy, of which would probably be true." 

"You overthink." I say, looking out the window. 

"Why can't you just be happy with Faith?" He says. "You know how many men would kill for a chance to wake up next to her? or even talk to her? You are married to her, Tim. I'm not going to let you demolish that for some pretty young thing-" 

"Faith won't even touch me." 

"Because of Dallas! She has every right not to." He says. If he weren't driving, I would punch him. 

"Dallas was a mistake." I admit. 

"This would be one too." He says. "Just go home, dump out the beer, hang out with your children," he emphasizes. "and talk to Faith." 

"Faith doesn't want to talk."

"Bullshit." he says. "If you want to open up to her about anything- and I mean anything- she will be open to conversation. Just don't be a dick." He pulls up to the driveway and pats me on the back. "Good talk." He says, as I get out of the car. I'm sure I roll my eyes. 

Upon entering the chaotic household, I'm met with Audrey crying her head off, Gracie covered in some red fluid - that may or may not be blood-, and Maggie is dripping wet. 

"Dad!" Gracie says, running over and jumping on me. I feel like I'm already going to lose my mind, but I'm trying to keep my composure. 

"Where's your mom?" I ask them. They all shrug their shoulders. I turn the corner to see my mother cradling Audrey and trying to get her to stop crying. 

"Hey!" She says, putting down a now happy Audrey. My mother always had a very definitive parenting technique; keep them alive, nothing more or less. "Faith went to a doctor's appointment. Nothing better then a mammogram and a gynecologist appointment on the same day, right?" She laughs. 

"I would've gone with her." I say. She shakes her head. 

"Faith knew you had the show. She said it wasn't a big deal." 

"She gets really freaked out when she goes in." I try to explain. 

"She seemed fine this morning." Mom says. Part of me is frustrated that I didn't know about this appointment. "Anyways, I've got to talk to you." She says. 

"About?" 

"Something relating the doctors." She says. 

"Continue." I say. 

"Can we go outside to talk about this? I don't want the kids to worry." She says. We walk out on the screened porch. She sighs. "Tim, when was the last time you got all your tests done?" she asks. 

"Tests for what?" I ask. 

"Cancer." She says. I take a deep breath. 

"A while." I say. "Why?" 

"With your Dad and everything... the doctors think it may be genetic. They said if they detect it early, the survival rates are improved. I just think that getting tested wouldn't hurt." She begins to ramble. 

"Alright," I say. "I'll get an appointment in the morning." 

"Can't you call now to get an appointment?" She says, pointing to the clock that shows it's only two o'clock. 

"Okay, I guess I'll call now..." I say. She must be really worried.