Chapter 8 #2
“So, do you think my brother is surviving right now?”
The mention of Henley instantly makes me smile, and my cheeks get warm. Damn my easy blushing. “Yeah, I think he’s fine. Honestly, he’s doing so much better since those first few days.”
Dilynne shakes her head, studying her drink. “I still can’t believe he’s a dad. He’s never wanted a family, which I don’t blame him for. I mean, I don’t want kids, but not because of our childhood.”
“You don’t want kids?”
“Nope. I just don’t think I got that maternal instinct. There are plenty of women who will make fabulous moms, but I don’t think I’m one of them.”
“Do you think you might change your mind?”
Dilynne shakes her head. “No. It’s a gut feeling. Kids just aren’t something I ever envisioned in my life. I like my freedom. I like being able to go to car shows on a whim or work on a car until one in the morning. I could never do that if I had a child.”
“True.”
“What about you?”
My smile is instant. “Oh yeah. I’ve always wanted kids. Since my mom owned a daycare, I was always around children and I love the chaos, watching their minds explore the world around them, and guiding them through growing up. If life is kind to me, hopefully I’ll have five.”
Dilynne’s eyes nearly pop out. “Five?”
“Yeah. I have a friend back home who’s one of five siblings.
I used to love going over to her house. It was always loud and chaotic, but God, her family had big celebrations full of laughs and hugs.
There was always someone around if you needed anything.
” I look back down at my drink. “I’m tired of being let down and feeling alone, and the last thing I would want is for my child to feel that way. ”
Dilynne covers my hand with hers. “You’re not alone when you’re with our crew,” she says confidently.
“Look, I know my brother is your boss, but if you needed anything, he would be there. Same with Rhonan, Elliot, or Fletcher. Those boys are all like brothers to me and Laney, Fletcher excluded now, of course.” We share a laugh.
“All I’m saying is, we are a family. It’s been that way since my brother and I got placed with Carol and Nick, who are basically our parents anyway. ”
“Carol seems like a hoot.”
Dilynne fluffs her hair. “Where do you think I got my sass from? The woman is my idol. She’s not afraid to speak her mind, be herself, and stand up for what’s right.”
“She thought I was Remy’s mom.”
Dilynne stares at me for a moment. “I mean, you could be. You both have dark hair and light eyes.”
“Yeah, well, watching your brother explain that I’m just the nanny when they assumed she’s mine was far more entertaining.”
Dilynne holds her stomach as she cackles. “I can only imagine.”
The DJ comes over the speakers, interrupting the regular music. “Open mic night is almost here! If you’re interested, sign-ups are at the bar to the right of my booth. We’re only taking ten acts, so get your name on the list.”
Dilynne turns back to me, her eyes and smile wide. “You should totally sign up!”
“Ugh. I don’t know…”
“Come on. There’s no pressure here, right? Half the people in this place are already drunk, so even if you suck, they’re still gonna cheer.”
I give her a flat look. “Gee, thanks.”
She chuckles. “You know what I mean. Look, you came here to regroup, right?”
“Yeah.”
“So maybe that means remembering why you fell in love with singing and music in the first place. Take the pressure off. Just sing because you love it. Hell, that’s what I do sometimes with cars.
I rebuild one not because someone is paying me to or because I’m entering into a show, but because I simply love the process. ”
Biting my bottom lip, I contemplate her words.
Maybe she’s right.
It felt so amazing to just sing the other night to Remy and Henley. I haven’t sung in months without trying to make it mean something, not since the night that changed how I felt about this career aspiration.
Dilynne is still staring at me, nodding her head as if that’s what’s going to make me decide.
“Ugh, fine.” Huffing, I stand from my chair and march over to the bar then scribble my name in the second to last spot. I traipse back to Dilynne who’s clapping excitedly.
“Heck yes! I can’t wait to hear you sing.”
“I hope I don’t end up regretting this.”
“Elodie? Elodie Olsen, is that you?”
I spin around to see a familiar face that I haven’t seen in ages standing just to my left. “Easton Bennett.”
Jumping from the table, he intercepts me into his big, burly chest. “Holy shit! It is you.” Holding me out at arm’s length now, his eyes move up and down my body. “Damn girl, L.A. has been good to you. What the hell are you doing back here?”
“Oh, uh…just visiting some friends,” I say, not wanting to get into all of the details of how I ended up in Blossom Peak right now. Motioning to my new friend, I say, “This is Dilynne Clark.”
He reaches out to shake Dilynne’s hand. “Hey… You look familiar.”
“I come here pretty often. You actually hit on my engaged best friend a few months ago.”
“Easton!” I smack him on the chest.
He simply shrugs as those dimples of his appear, using them to his advantage like always. “Hey. I’m a grown man. If I’d known she was taken, I wouldn’t have…”
“You could have asked,” I counter, crossing my arms over my chest. “Besides, I thought you and—”
He cuts me off, his tone clipped. “Nothing is going on with anyone back home, all right?”
Lifting my hands in the air, I say, “Okay. Noted. Won’t bring it up again.”
Dilynne’s eyes move between me and Easton. “Did you two ever…”
My lips curl up in disgust as Easton groans. “Absolutely not. He’s like a brother to me.”
Dilynne’s eyes shamelessly rake all over his body. “Well, he’s not my brother, and”—she takes his cowboy hat from his head and places it on her own—“it’s been a while since I’ve gone riding.”
I cover my mouth to hide my smile, but Easton’s grin is stretched a mile wide. “Then maybe I’ll warm you up on the dance floor, sugar.”
Dilynne’s face falls flat as she returns his hat. “Nope. Changed my mind.”
“What? Why?”
“Sugar?” she retorts, rolling her eyes. “How much more cliché can you be? I mean, the jeans, boots, flannel, and hat are enough…but that nickname is so not hot”
Laughing, I turn to Easton and shrug. “She’s not wrong.”
Easton straightens his hat on his head. “Well, another lady won’t mind it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to make sure I don’t end up going home alone tonight.” Tipping his hat at me, he says, “Always good to see you, Elodie. Let me know when you’re in town and we can grab a burger or something.”
I lunge toward him, hugging him tightly. “I will.”
He saunters off as I return to my chair and find Dilynne staring at me. “What?”
“You sure you two have never banged?”
Dry heaving dramatically, I lift my glass to my mouth. “I’m sure. Trust me. Easton is way too immature for me.”
“Most men are,” Dilynne replies.
“Agreed, but he uses it as crutch to avoid growing up. His family…” My words trail off as I take a deep breath before continuing. “Let’s just say everyone has their own way of coping with things and his is that. I know he has feelings for one of Lennon’s sisters too, but…”
“Oh, so there is someone back home he’s avoiding?” Dilynne leans forward in her seat, clearly invested.
“Yeah. They fight more than anything, but it’s clear as day that there are feelings there.”
Dilynne’s grin from before falls as she clears her throat. “Yeah, well sometimes fighting is just fighting, nothing more.”
I tilt my head at her. “You seem like you’re speaking from experience.”
“Let’s just say that people usually fight for a reason, okay?”
I take my straw between my teeth again, feeling the effects of the whiskey coating my limbs in warmth as I get to the bottom of my glass. “Care to elaborate? Is this an ex you’re referring to?”
She huffs out a laugh. “Yeah. I should have known better than to mix business and pleasure,” she says almost painfully, making me reach out for her hand again.
“God, have I learned that lesson too.”
The music cuts off at that moment, pulling everyone’s attention to the DJ booth. “All right y’all! It’s time for our first act for Open Mic Night. Put your hands together for Gregory Banks singing a Garth Brooks classic, ‘Friends in Low Places’!”
Dilynne and I turn our attention to the stage in the corner of the bar while Gregory belts out a slightly intoxicated version of the crowd pleaser. But inside, I’m squirming, waiting for my turn. I count the acts until I know I’m up next. Dilynne rubs my back as the DJ introduces me.
“You’ve got this.”
Nodding, I head toward the stage.
I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I’ve sung in front of crowds hundreds of times.
But this is the first time I’ve sung since the night when everything changed and I questioned if this is what I wanted for my life still.
“How are y’all doing tonight?” Holding the microphone between both of my hands, I cast my gaze out into the crowd of people, receiving hoots and hollers in response.
“Sounds like we’re all having fun. Now, I wouldn’t be up here if it weren’t for my pushy friend in the back,” I say as Dilynne screams so everyone can see her.
“But singing is something I’ve been doing since I was very young, so I hope you guys enjoy this one. I think it’s fitting for tonight.”
I wait for the first few notes of the song to play and then I close my eyes, take a deep breath, pop my eyes back open, and let the music overtake me. Singing “Bartender“ by Lady A, I tap my toes and swing my hips as the upbeat music plays and the crowd starts singing with me.
My eyes land on Dilynne in the back of the crowd, shaking her arms around and singing along, instantly making me smile.
The energy, the music, the entire feeling of the room transports me to another place—one where instead of people watching me singing someone else’s song, there might be a day when a crowd would gather to listen to me sing songs I wrote myself.