Chapter 28 Tally
TALLY
During a break, the ladies swarm Rust with questions about his family, mainly if he per chance has a single, wealthy granddaddy.
Erin approaches me with a bottle of water in her hand. “I’m sorry they’re so rowdy. And so… inappropriate. They’re seriously worse than the group of toddlers I teach on Sunday mornings.”
“I ain’t bothered by their questions. It’s good to see them having fun. Old folks get lonely so easily. It’s sweet of you to give them a place to gather and be social.”
She sips on her water. “They all lost their husbands in the past years and their kids are grown up. Most moved away, only coming ‘round for holidays and such. I’m happy to keep them active.”
“You’re a good person.”
“Thanks, but I don’t know about that. If I’m being honest, I feel guilty, too.”
“Because there ain’t enough hours in the day to help everybody?” I tease.
She shrinks visibly. “Because I’d be lyin’ if I said that running a dance studio in my hometown was all I wanted from life.”
My brows rise. “The nice lady at the restaurant told us you lived in the city for a while?”
“Jeez, Anna really is the biggest gossip in town.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. And she only said great things about you, I promise.”
Erin sighs. “I reckon it’s not a secret. Everybody witnessed my return from New York, tail tucked between my legs.”
“Sounds like there’s a story behind that.”
“I don’t usually like to talk about this stuff but with you it feels surprisingly… easy.”
A glow radiates through me. “Glad to hear that.”
“Guess it’s cause I think you can relate. You being who you are, you know what show business is like…” She slaps a hand over her mouth. “I mean cause you’re a singer! Like, a travelin’ singer! Like all singers know how hard it can be to find work in the creative industries!”
I smile. “Yeah, I knew what you meant the first time.”
Erin peels the corner of the label from the bottle. “Well, my story started when I was a kid and my parents signed me up for ballet classes. I was pretty good. It became my whole life. As a teen, I discovered my love for line dancing.”
“Finding your passion as a little girl is special. Happened to me the same way.”
“And it’s a lot of pressure, too. You get a whole childhood to dream what you’re going to achieve when you’re grown up. Then reality might not measure up.”
I laugh dryly. “Spot on.”
“I worked my butt off to get a partial scholarship and went to New York to get a BA in dance. When I wasn’t studyin’, I waitressed and gave line dance lessons to pay my remaining tuition. I realized I love to dance, but I love to teach and come up with my own choreographies even more.”
“So, you want to be a choreographer?” I ask.
Her eyes drop to the floor, her lip trembling. “After I graduated, I chased every gig in town, but I collected rejections and ended up waitressing more than anything else. Eventually, I told myself I’d return home to regroup. Then I sort of got stuck here. It’s a mental thing, I think.”
She looks back at me and I see an ocean of pain in her blue gaze.
“What if I’m not good enough?” she chokes out.
Tears burn the back of my nose. I know how she feels. I’ve been there, too, and I’m right there again now, wondering if I’m good enough to be on stage as I am. Just Tally.
I brush over her back, rubbing soothing circles.
“The creative industry is tough as nails, Erin. Mostly, who makes it ain’t got a thing to do with talent alone.
It takes a perfect storm. Often it’s the right contacts and the who-knows-who.
Sometimes it’s plain luck. Other times, it’s persistence. Maybe it wasn’t your time yet.”
Her shoulders shake. “But why bother tryin’ again? Why would it work out now if it didn’t happen the first time?”
“Well, why shouldn’t it?” I counter softly.
“But what if I missed my chance? What if my dream is dead?” Erin sobs a laugh. “Dang, sorry. Sometimes when I get emotional, I start talkin’ and can’t stop. Or when I get flustered. Or anxious. Or happy. Dang, there I go again.”
“Dreams don’t actually die. Sometimes they go to sleep for a bit and wait until you’re ready, sort of like a seed buried in the dark soil, waiting to bloom. Don’t give up. An opportunity might come around when you least expect it.”
She smiles, dabbing at her eyes. “I don’t feel quite as optimistic, but thanks for listening to my silly whining.”
“Thank you for trusting me with your story, Erin.” I dig my phone from the pocket of my jeans. “How about we exchange numbers? Rust and I gotta move on soon, but I’d love to stay in touch.”
I feel a real connection with Erin, like she could become a friend. I’m also determined to help her the way she helps others. Damned if I can’t pull some strings behind the scenes to give her an opportunity to prove herself.
“Oh my gosh, yes! That would be awesome! I didn’t want to ask because I thought it would be weird,” Erin says.
We swap phones for a moment and add our contact info.
She blows out a breath. “And uh, thanks again for helping with the lesson. Now I feel like I owe you for the music and the talk.”
“No, it’s my pleasure. I don’t often get to play and chat like this.”
I hold back what I really mean to say. That it’s nice to make a friend as plain old me, without worrying if the other person’s only acting nice so they can use me and my fame for their own gain later.
“I think I got an idea how to repay your kindness,” Erin continues.
“That’s really not necessary.”
She pouts. “Please? Let me at least make a suggestion?”
“I’m listening.”
“Okay, so Dave, the fella who runs the ‘Bottles & Boots’, yeah? I know him well cause his twin girls are in my Tuesday afternoon ballet class. He hosts live music every weekend and I think he’d love to have you.”
“Today?” I ask.
No, there’s a local bluegrass band playing tonight. But tomorrow it’s old Joe with his harmonica and everybody knows his routine by heart. Mostly cause it hasn’t changed in ten years.” She giggles. “I could introduce you to Dave. That way, you’ll get at least one paid gig.”
I don’t need the money, but this seems important to Erin. Performing at that honky-tonk is also a great opportunity for Rust and me to get on the stage together again without pressure. Though I reckon I’m gonna have to ambush him or he’ll refuse.
“Thanks, I’d like that,” I agree. “I’ll talk to Rust about it when we’re done here and see what he thinks.”
Erin beams a million-dollar smile. “Cool!”
During the brief lull in our conversation, I make out fragments of a tale Rust is telling his new fans. I believe I hear the words ‘massive blue catfish’ as he makes a reel-in motion. The women gasp. One of them puts an arm on his bicep and he laughs.
“Hold your horses, ladies! There’s enough of me to go around,” he hollers.
I grin. “For his next birthday, I should get him one of those hats that say ‘Fish fear me. Women want me.’”
Erin snickers. “So y’all used to be an item?”
“A very, very long time ago.” The words feel like pinpricks in my heart.
“He’s still crazy about you.” Erin winces as I inhale sharply. “Dang, was that my outside voice?”
“You think he still likes me?” I ask, pretending I don’t already know.
“Definitely! Even I can tell and I’m like, really bad at romance.
It’s in the way he looks at you as if you’re the greatest work of art.
How he touches you with so much reverence even in a passin’ brush of his fingers.
” She puts a hand on her heart, swooning.
“Why won’t you give him another chance?”
An incendiary blush explodes across my face.
Erin stammers, waving around the water bottle. ‘Gosh, I’m so sorry! I totally overstepped there. My mom always says I need to think before I speak.”
“It’s okay,” I cut in.
Erin looses a breath. “Oh, thank f–I mean thank baby Jesus!”
“Would you believe me if I said it’s complicated?”
She squints. “Exactly how complicated?”
“Like childhood friends to lovers with a Vegas wedding and getting divorced the next day type of complicated.”
“Sounds wild! You should write a book about that. I’d read it! You’re just missin’ your happy ever after… but maybe your story isn’t finished yet.”
I laugh, though I suddenly feel like throwing up. Because I can’t think of a single reason why Rust and I aren’t giving it another shot. Fuck, I can’t believe I’m even entertaining the thought. That’s scarier than driving cross state with a body in my trunk.
Well, maybe there’s one reason. The fact that he’s built a life without me and I have no right to uproot him from that.
And when I offered him credit for the album, he said he doesn’t want fame.
But anyone who dates me inevitably finds their face plastered in some tabloid.
A stable relationship by itself is difficult because human emotions are messy.
A healthy relationship in the spotlight and under constant scrutiny is near impossible.
And then there’s one other, tiny problem:
I’m 99 percent sure my heart is gonna explode if we get back together and I end up losing him again. The first time was the single most painful experience of my entire life. I can’t do it all over.
Right now, it seems like we’re making this friends with benefits thing work. It’s early on, but if we continue building that friendship, I’ll get to keep Rust as a part of my life again. Minus the risks of a romantic relationship and the inevitable breakup blow-up.
And I can be there for him, too. I want to be his anchor when he finds himself lost at sea. I want to be the one to take care of the man who takes care of everybody else but forgets about himself.
This fragile, budding friendship is more than I ever hoped for in the past decade without him. I need this. I need Rustin around, that’s becoming clear as day to me.
So really, there are plenty of reasons why we aren’t together. But tell that to the butterflies putting on a synchronized dance in my belly as we lock eyes across the room.
Erin clears her throat and I find her looking between Rust and me, smirking. “If you guys are stayin’ another night, you should come to the ‘Bottles & Boots’ and listen to the band. Then I can introduce you to Dave and set up your gig for tomorrow.”
“Sounds good.”
Erin startles like she forgot something important. “Oh, and if you have some time tomorrow morning, you should check out the creek south of town. It’s the perfect spot to spend a slow summer day.” She giggles conspiratorially. “And romantic, too. Happy ever after material.”
I like the idea. Being out in nature always helps me to get creative and I got plenty of songs to work on. “Could you give me directions later?”
“Sure thing! Well then, are you ready to continue?” she asks happily.
I strum the guitar. “Absolutely.”
Erin lets out a sharp whistle and slips back into her instructor role. As I watch the old ladies get in line with Rust in front, he turns to me, taps his hat, and winks.
My stomach flips.
Friends, Tally. Friends with benefits, but friends. Better to have a piece of him than to lose him completely.