Chapter Ten #2
“It’s okay. You’d have done it for me,” Christine said, realizing she meant it. He probably would have.
“Yep, I would. Or at the very least, I’d have sent Matt,” Austin said, his eyes gleaming.
Christine’s stomach butterflied when she heard Matt’s name. “That sounds more like it,” she said. She drove out of the parking lot and onto the highway, heading toward Nashville.
“So, tell me. Who’s your favorite singer?” Austin asked.
“Promise not to laugh.”
“Depends. Are you going to say David Cassidy or the Bay City Rollers?”
“How would I even know them?” Christine asked.
“I don’t know. Some people grow up listening to what their parents liked. Maybe your mom couldn’t get enough of The Partridge Family ,” Austin said.
“That’s the reason for who I’m going to name.
My mom dragged me to every Willie Nelson concert she could find, and I fell in love with him and his music.
He’s the number one reason I followed a career in country music.
From my early teens, I was determined to one day meet him and work with a music company in Nashville.
I used to go to every country concert our local theatre offered.
I even saw Willie play there once when he did a private benefit for the children’s hospital. ”
“Why in the world would I ever find that funny?” Austin asked, reaching into the back seat and grabbing his guitar. He strummed a chord and belted out the opening lines of “Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain.”
When the song ended, Christine shook her head and looked at him. “Austin, that may be the most beautiful gift anyone has ever given me.”
He followed that up with “Angel Flying Too Close to the Ground,” “Crazy,” and “On the Road Again.” Then he said, “I’d love to keep going, but your gas tank is on E. We need to stop.”
“Oh, shit. I was so busy listening I wasn’t paying attention.” They both held their breath as the gas light blinked and the mileage monitor dropped down to ten miles, then nine, skipping eight to go to seven.
“If I’d wanted to walk, I wouldn’t have called you,” Austin said, a grin teasing his face.
“I can’t believe I did this. I’ve never run out of gas. I’m always diligent.”
“I bet you are. You still have seven miles. Have faith.”
With five miles left to go, they saw a sign for gas at an exit two miles away.
“We’re going to make it,” Austin said.
Christine stepped on the accelerator, thinking if she ran out near the exit, she could drift closer on momentum. When she saw the turnoff, they both exhaled.
Austin jumped out of the car before she could put it in park. He didn’t think twice about pulling out his credit card and filling up her gas tank.
“I need a Starbucks,” she said when he was back in the car.
Austin asked Siri to find them one, then preordered their drinks and sandwiches. Ten minutes later, they were seated at a table. Austin took Christine’s ball cap, despite her complaints about unruly hair, and pulled it down low over his eyes.
“Embarrassed to be seen with me?” Christine asked.
“Trying to save your sweet ass from more harassment.”
Christine reddened. She should have known he’d never be embarrassed to be seen with her. “Thank you.”
“I’ve got your back. Never doubt that.”
“I don’t.”
When the barista called the names Chandler and Monica, Austin got up to grab their drinks and breakfast sandwiches.
Christine pointed at the cups when he sat back down. “Chandler and Monica?”
“Did you want me to say Austin and Christine?”
“No, but Chandler and Monica?”
“Can you think of two people who describe us any better?”
She thought about Chandler’s character on the TV show Friends . He’s a hard worker, quirky, lovable, and a bit of a frat boy at heart. Then she thought about Monica’s character: type A personality, a bit OCD, takes life too seriously most of the time.
“Fair assessment,” she said. Austin asked for an update on her stalker situation and apologized yet again for what she was going through.
They finished their sandwiches and were standing to leave when two young men approached their table.
“Aren’t you Austin Garrett?”
“I am.”
“Dude, I’m a huge fan. I wasn’t sure it was you in that ball cap. I love your music. Caught one of your shows in Knoxville last year. You nailed it.” The guy pumped Austin’s hand up and down in an exuberant handshake.
“Thanks.”
“And this must be Ugly Christine,” he said, letting go of Austin’s hand and waving to Christine.
Christine’s eyes narrowed.
“What?” Austin said. Christine reached for his arm to hold him back.
“No offense. It’s what everyone on social media calls her. I thought it was, you know, like, your shtick or something.”
“No offense? Are you freaking kidding me? There’s no way to take that other than as offensive.” Austin had raised his voice, which made Christine nervous. Other people were starting to stare.
“Austin, please don’t make a scene. It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine, Christine. It’s not fine at all. Look at her. Does she look ugly to you?”
Christine visualized how she must look: hair askew, baggy jeans, an old T-shirt, and no makeup. “Now might not be the best time to ask that, Austin.”
Austin took a step toward the guy. The guy had a good few inches in height on Austin and at least thirty pounds. Christine did not want this to become a fistfight.
The guy’s friend stepped up and grabbed his friend’s arm. He said, “Come on—let’s go. I think you did enough damage here.”
The guy pulled his arm out of his friend’s grasp but didn’t argue. He turned and walked away, leaving Austin and Christine standing there.
“I have totally screwed up your life, haven’t I?” he asked her.
“It has become challenging. Are you ready to go?”
“Yeah, I’m ready.”
They traveled the rest of the way in silence. No more Willie Nelson songs, no more funny stories, just two people ready to be out of the car.
“Am I taking you home or to the bus?” she asked when they came into Nashville.
“The bus. Same Kroger parking lot. Thanks.”
Christine prayed she wouldn’t see Matt. She looked bad and felt worse. She just wanted to go home. She pulled up beside the bus, grateful not to see anybody.
Austin leaned back in his seat and looked at her.
“Don’t try to say anything, Austin. There’s nothing to say.”
“You have no idea what that did to me.”
“Yeah, well. It didn’t do me any favors, either.”
He unbuckled his seat belt, leaned over, and gave her a hug and a light kiss on the lips. “I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
He got out of the car and walked onto the bus. Christine knew Matt was behind the bus door. So close. She shook her head, put her car in drive, and went home.