In Nashville, she bought a rock star coat — black leather with sequin-flowered sleeves and a rhinestone, mid-calf hem. In the dressing room, she laughed — it was a perfect fit. “I’d never wear it,” she told the saleswoman. “Back home, we’re all L.L. Bean and Talbots.” She bought it anyway and hung it by the door – her alter-ego, set in wait. Then she met her new neighbors, Bud and Zach, walking their two chihuahuas. “This is Amy and this is Pacho,” Zack said, “they have a cabaret act.” When they invited her to their house-warming party, she knew exactly what to wear.