Chapter 167 157 - Nashville

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3rd POV

"I'm already regretting coming along with you, Brother," Sheldon muttered with a pout, watching the snow drift past the airplane window.

Nashville in January was bitterly cold, the kind of weather that could dip below freezing this time of year. The jacket Sheldon wore felt useless against the thought of it. He grumbled, hugging himself for warmth, though his eyes still shone with the thrill of seeing snow for the first time. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but deep down he was just as excited as Missy.

That little girl practically pressed her face to the glass, eyes sparkling as the flakes danced in the air outside.

"Missy! Stop jumping around in your seat!" Sheldon snapped before turning to Georgie beside him. "Brother, you need to be responsible for my safety in this new environment! I require a jacket much thicker than the one I have now."

"Me too!" Missy chimed in, still glued to the window.

"Missy, stop staring out the window. We'll be landing any minute," Mary said, her tone firm but gentle, trying to settle her daughter's excitement.

And right then, the voice of the flight attendant filled the cabin:

*"Ladies and gentlemen, as we make our final approach into Nashville International Airport, the local time is 3:32 this evening. Current conditions in Music City are wintry—light snow is still falling, with a temperature of forty-one degrees Fahrenheit. Please keep those coats close by.

At this time, make sure your seatbelts are fastened, seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright and locked positions, and any carry-ons are stowed beneath the seat in front of you or in the overhead bins. We'll be on the ground shortly.

We do ask that you remain seated until we've come to a complete stop at the gate and the captain has turned off the seatbelt sign. Take care when opening overhead compartments, as items may have shifted during the flight.

Whether you're visiting for the first time or coming back home, welcome to Nashville—where the music plays on, even in the snow. On behalf of your captain and all of us here in the cabin, thanks for flying with us today. We wish y'all a warm and wonderful evening."*

"Alright, y'all. Buckle up," George Sr.'s voice rumbled from behind them. "Georgie, take care of your brother."

Georgie glanced over and saw Sheldon's hands twitching as soon as the flight attendant's voice came over the intercom. He reached out, squeezing Sheldon's right hand, while noticing that Sheldon's left was already clamped tightly around Missy's fingers. Eyes shut, Sheldon braced himself, wishing the nightmare would pass quickly.

"We're gonna be alright, Sheldon," Georgie said, giving his brother's hand a reassuring pat. "I'll buy you a new coat later."

Sheldon gave a stiff nod without opening his eyes.

"What about me?" Missy huffed, exasperated. "I'm scared and cold too!"

Georgie chuckled at her. "Relax. If I get your twin brother something, of course you'll get something too." Then he leaned closer, his tone turning serious. "You buckled up already, princess?"

"Relax, it's just a plane—" Missy started waving her hand, but the moment the turbulence hit, she fell silent, squeezing her eyes shut just like Sheldon.

Behind the three of them, their parents and Meemaw exchanged a glance, shaking their heads. With Georgie there, their job was a little easier.

"Looks like you won't get away with playing favorites between those two anymore," Connie quipped, unbothered by the turbulence, her lips curling in a sly grin toward George Sr.

"I never play favorites!" George Sr. shot back, glaring at his mother-in-law.

"Yeah, because you already chose Georgie over the twins," Mary added softly.

George Sr. let out a long breath, closing his eyes, choosing not to answer.

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The plane touched down smoothly, though Sheldon didn't seem convinced—his eyes squeezed shut, hand clamped tightly on Georgie's, while Missy mirrored him, gripping hard until the plane finally rolled to a stop.

When they stepped into the terminal, the chill of winter air hit them the moment the doors slid open. Snowflakes drifted lazily outside, and both twins froze, wide-eyed, as they took in the sight of real snow for the first time.

"See? Perfect landing, right?" Georgie teased, hefting down their luggage. As usual, Sheldon's suitcase was far too large, packed with half a laboratory's worth of "necessities."

"Where's our pickup?" George Sr. muttered, scanning the crowd until he spotted a man holding a sign that read 'Kooper.'

The man, with a thick accent and a polite smile, stepped forward. "You are… Kooper family, yes?" he asked, squinting at them.

"I'm George Cooper," George Sr. said, gesturing at the group behind him. "This is my family. Though, uh… I don't think one car's gonna fit all of us. You got a buddy waiting outside?"

The man broke into a grin. "Oh yes, yes! My friend is waiting. My name is Ranjit."

True enough, another driver was outside, idling by the curb. Ranjit led them through the glass doors, chatting cheerfully the whole way.

About Nashville. About the music. About his cousin's restaurant. About his brother-in-law's stubborn mule.

By the time they reached the car, Missy whispered to Sheldon, "Does he ever stop talking?"

Sheldon, still hugging his oversized coat to himself, muttered flatly, "Statistically speaking, no."

The family split into two cars. Georgie climbed into the back of Ranjit's sedan, guitar case propped awkwardly beside him. Missy slid in next to him, practically bouncing on the seat, while Meemaw settled in beside Ranjit with a grin.

"Welcome to Nashville!" Ranjit announced, glancing at them through the mirror. "Don't worry, my friend will take your parents and brother. They will follow us."

"Great," Meemaw said dryly, puffing out smoke. "Now step on it before I freeze to death."

Missy plastered her face to the window again, squealing at every neon sign they passed. "Look, Georgie, another guitar sign! Ohhh, and cowboy boots!"

Georgie chuckled, pulling her back before she smudged the glass completely. "Calm down, princess. We've got plenty of time to see it all tomorrow."

Meanwhile, in the second car, Sheldon sat rigidly in the backseat between his parents. His nose wrinkled as he took in the faint smell of curry lingering in the upholstery.

"This vehicle has a lingering odor of cumin and turmeric," he muttered. "Statistically, I estimate the driver prepared curry at least three times this week."

Mary sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Sheldon, not everything needs to be a science experiment."

George Sr. leaned forward, trying to make conversation with the driver. "So, buddy, how long you been drivin' around Nashville?"

The man grinned in the mirror. "Ten years. I know every street, every shortcut."

Sheldon immediately frowned. "Then why did you take a left when the optimal route to the hotel required a right turn approximately point-four miles back?" while looking at his own maps, Nashville city on it.

George Sr. groaned, sinking back in his seat. "Lord help me."

Back in Ranjit's car, the atmosphere couldn't have been more different. Meemaw was laughing at Missy's antics, and Ranjit kept talking—about Nashville, about his cousin's restaurant, even about his uncle's cow back in India.

Georgie leaned his head back against the seat, half-listening, half-drifting in thought as the city lights shimmered across wet streets. For him, this was more than sightseeing. This was a step closer to the stage that waited tomorrow.

"This is my last year in Nashville," Ranjit said brightly, glancing at them through the rearview mirror. "My wife wants us to move to New York. Her family's there, and they will help us."

"So what will you do in New York, Ranjit?" Georgie asked, shifting his gaze to the driver. "Keep driving, or something different?"

"That's a good question," Ranjit replied vaguely, his smile never fading. "My wife's family will help us."

Connie twitched, shooting Georgie a look that said change the subject already.

"Well, you've got driving skills," Georgie said with a crooked smile, speaking the first thing that came to mind. "I guess you'll survive in New York as long as you've got that."

"Thank you, young man!" Ranjit beamed. "So, what are you doing in Nashville? Vacation?" His voice rose with enthusiasm again. "Though I must say, January is bad for vacation—brrr, still snowing! Maybe Christmas or New Year is better. Festival, concerts, many singers, very fun!" He chuckled, his eyes flicking to Missy, who was still glued to the window.

"Don't mind her," Connie cut in smoothly. "We're from Texas. Snow's a rare sight there."

"We're here for Hee Haw," she added, her tone proud. "My grandson here's been invited to perform."

"Oh wow!" Ranjit exclaimed, eyes wide. "Are you famous? Forgive me if I'm rude, but I have never seen you on TV." His eyes darted to the mirror, studying Georgie's face again and again.

"He's still green," Connie said lightly. "Got himself a little name back in Texas."

Just then, Missy tugged Georgie's sleeve, pointing out the window as the car stopped at a red light. "Brother, look! They're playing your song!"

Across the street, a honky-tonk bar had its doors flung open, and the unmistakable sound of Georgie's voice drifted into the snowy air.

"…Oh yeah," Georgie murmured, blinking in surprise. "Didn't think my music had made it all the way to Nashville."

He really hadn't known. Business, promotion, distribution—he left all of that to Rosie. She was the one pushing tapes beyond Texas, maybe even further once his single brushed the Billboard charts. Georgie didn't think about sales or reach; for him, it was always about the music, about being an artist first.

Maybe he heard about this but he didn't really think too much about that, he already have people who make his goal fly through the skies.

Connie's smile widened, proud as ever.

But Ranjit twisted around in his seat, staring at Georgie with open-mouthed shock. "Are you Georgie?! The Georgie who sings 'God's Country'?!" He fumbled with his dashboard, pulling out a cassette tape with Georgie's album.

"Young man, that is a deep song! People in Nashville really like it, you know?!" His words tumbled out in excitement. He held the cassette toward Georgie, grinning from ear to ear. "Can you sign this? I want to brag to my wife!"

Georgie blinked at the cassette, then let out a small laugh. "Sure, why not?"

He took the tape, pulled a pen from his jacket pocket, and scrawled his name across the cover with a practiced ease that still felt strange to him. For a moment, he caught his reflection in the plastic case—his own face staring back at him like it belonged to someone else, someone becoming known.

Handing it back, Georgie gave Ranjit a crooked smile. "There you go. Now you can brag all you want."

"Thank you, thank you!" Ranjit beamed, holding the signed cassette like it was gold. "My wife will not believe this!"

Missy clapped her hands. "See?! You're famous already, Brother!"

Meemaw smirked around her cigarette. "Don't let it get to your head, kid. Nashville'll chew you up if you start struttin' like a rooster."

Georgie only smiled faintly, shaking his head. Fame wasn't what he was chasing—it was always the music. Or maybe money. Yeah, more to the Money, but good music always smells like money.

Meanwhile, in the second car…

Sheldon sat wedged between his parents, arms crossed, his eyes flicking constantly to the frosted windows.

"This driver has taken yet another inefficient route," he declared, his tone flat. "At this rate, our estimated time of arrival has increased by eleven minutes. Completely unacceptable."

Mary pinched the bridge of her nose. "Sheldon, please. It's just a car ride."

"It is not 'just a car ride,' Mother. This is a case study in human error and poor urban planning."

George Sr. groaned, leaning back in his seat. "Son, for once in your life, can you just sit quiet and enjoy the ride?"

Sheldon turned to him, eyes narrowing. "Statistically speaking, the probability of me 'enjoying' this ride is less than three percent."

George Sr. sighed, muttering under his breath, "Why didn't I ride with Missy instead…"

The driver, a patient man with a thick accent, simply smiled in the rearview mirror. "Don't worry, we will be there soon. Snow makes traffic slower, but Nashville is still beautiful, yes?"

Mary forced a polite smile, but Sheldon sniffed, unimpressed. "Beauty is subjective. Efficiency is measurable."

George Sr. just rubbed his temples, silently counting down the minutes until they reached the hotel.