by Keren Hughes
“Oh, yeah, sure. I’ll see you around.”
“That you will. It’s a small town, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“Are you singing for karaoke night at The Lock?”
“Ohmygod no.” She rushes her words out and blushes beet red. “I can’t hold a tune.”
“Ah, tone deaf. Only ever sings in the car or the shower?” I ask.
“Exactly. Will I get to hear you sing?”
“Not a chance. I can’t carry a tune either.”
“Doesn’t mean you can’t come and grab a Jameson and watch the locals as they try to belt out Whitney Houston or something.”
“Are you trying to make it sound appealing? Because if you are, I’m afraid to tell you that you’re doing the exact opposite.”
“Okay, well, then I cordially invite you to bear witness to the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra.”
“You know they play instruments and don’t sing, right?”
Her cheeks pink again as she smiles at me. It’s a goofy kind of smile, but beautiful all the same.
“I know that. I just couldn’t think of a group of awesome singers. I was trying to make it sound more appealing to you.”
“I’m afraid I’m busy that night.”
“Do you even know what night it is?”
She’s got me there. Damien didn’t tell me when, just that they have karaoke.
“Okay, you’ve got me there. No, I don’t know.”
“It’s Tuesday. And Wednesdays are ‘curry and a pint for a fiver’.”
“It looks like all my Tuesdays just got fully booked washing my hair. Sorry.”
Caleigh pokes her tongue out at me, and Hardin just looks at us in confusion. I don’t blame him; adults are confusing sometimes.
“I’ll see you on Wednesday for the curry.”
“Aww, don’t be a spoilsport!”
“I’ll see if I can pencil something in on my calendar.”
I pull my phone out of my pocket and pretend to scrutinise my calendar.
“Looks like my Tuesday evening could be free. It all hinges on if there’s some kind of incentive for me.”
“And the incentive would be?” she quizzes.
“That’s for you to decide.”
“How about a Jameson, on the house?”
“Sold. I’ll see you then, if I don’t bump into you before. I really should go; I’ve just noticed the time. I told Damien I’d be there ten minutes ago and I still need to find the place.”
“Carry on straight down this road, turn left and it’s the third house on your right.”
“Oh, awesome. Thanks. Hard to get my bearings in a new place.”
“Everyone knows everyone in this town, so if you’re ever lost, just ask someone to point you in the right direction.”
“Thanks, Caleigh, I appreciate it.”
“No worries. Have fun.”
“You have a good night. Hardin.” I lean down towards him. “Have a good night, little man. It was good to meet you.”
He gives me another fist bump and a grin that shows he’s missing a tooth. He’s so cute, but then with his mother’s genes, I shouldn’t have expected any less.
“See you soon, Rhett,” he says over his shoulder as they begin to walk away.
“See you soon, Hardin.”
I wave and watch for a moment as they walk away. Please look back, I think to myself. And she does. She looks over her shoulder and offers me a smile before turning around and walking away. God, her ass looks so good in those jeans.
Chapter Five
Caleigh
I spent Sunday with my parents and Hardin for our usual roast dinner. Then yesterday, I busted my ass at the pub.
Tonight it’s karaoke, so I’m prepared with ear plugs just in case. Not that I could bring myself to tell the regulars they can’t sing, and actually some of them can. But there are others that can’t hold a tune, usually because they’re steaming drunk. One shot of liquid courage turns into more, and by that time they’re slurring their words when they sing. All good fun, I suppose. But you wouldn’t catch me dead on that stage.
“Hey, Caleigh, we got any more slimline tonic water? I can’t see any on the shelf,” Deb says from behind me.
Well, that’s unusual; we normally have plenty.
“Let me go check out the back.”
The stock room is dark, so I turn on the light and search for more slimline tonic. It’s got to be in here somewhere.
“Whatcha looking for?” Damien’s voice booms from over my shoulder, making me jump out of my skin.
“Jeez, boss, give a girl a heart attack why don’t you?!”
“Sorry, Caleigh,” he says with a smile and eyes that show contrition. “Can I help you find something?”
“Slimline tonic. We’re out behind the bar.”
“Shit! I forgot to get any at the wholesaler,” he says as he scrubs a hand over his face in frustration.
“It’s okay, boss. I’ll pop to the shop and see what they have.”
“Thanks, Caleigh, I’ll go back to the wholesaler tomorrow. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Everybody has off days and forgets things, Damien. Don’t beat yourself up about tonic water.”
He hands me some money and I put it in my pocket as I make for the back room to grab my coat.
The air is cool as it hits me. Suddenly I’m grateful I remembered my coat, as I pull it tighter around me to fend off the wind.
“Hey, Caleigh,” a voice says, startling me.
I turn to see it’s Rhett, and I swallow my heart from where it jumped up into my throat. And here was me thinking I didn’t spook easily.
“Evening, Rhett. You coming to the pub?”
“Yeah, I was headed that way now. Are you not working?”
“Yeah, I am. Damien just forgot something at the wholesalers, so I’m just walking to the shop to see if they have some. Must have used the last of it last night I guess.”
“Ah, well, let me help you back with whatever it is.”
He falls in line with me as I head for the shop. My heart beats a staccato rhythm because he’s so close. He’s so close I could touch him. But I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t even want to, but I do.
“What is it?”
“What is what?” I ask, confused.
“That he forgot. He said something on the trip back about feeling like he’d forgotten something, but he didn’t know what.”
“Oh, sorry. Umm, just some slimline tonic water.”
“He forgot it, but he sends you out to fetch it? Not very gentlemanly,” he says with a soft chuckle.
“That’s Damien for you. Manners of a pig. But actually I offered this time.”
“Still, he could have said no and come out himself.”
“Too scared the cold would shrivel up his already microscopic cock and then women would have to use an extra-strength magnifying glass to find it.”
Rhett bursts out laughing, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say that even his laugh is perfect. Everything about him is so … dreamy. Shut the fuck up, Caleigh, I think to myself.
“I won’t tell him you said that.”
“Trust me, I’d say it to his face.”
“You’re a feisty one, aren’t you Caleigh?” he asks, his voice suddenly husky—or is that my imagination?
“My mum would tell you I’m too damn sassy for my own good. My dad would tell you I’m his little firecracker.”
“And I’d believe every word.”
We find the aisle with the tonic water and I grab as many packs as I can handle.
“Here, let me,” Rhett says as he takes them from me.
“Thank you.”
I pick up a few more packs, just to tide us over in case Damien forgets again. The man’s brain is like a sieve sometimes.
We pay and grab the bags. Rhett carries both of them, so I carry the two packs we couldn’t fit in. Walking back to the pub, I tell Rhett all about the many wonderful singers he can expe
ct tonight and some of their song choices—the regulars like to sing the same songs most weeks. Honestly, I wish they’d change it up a bit.
Rhett helps me carry the water into the stock room, then I open the packs and grab some bottles to stock behind the bar. He kindly helps me carry a few through, so once I’m back behind the bar, I pour him a Jameson.
“It’s on the house, man,” Damien says from the end of the bar.
“That’s not necessary,” Rhett replies.
“Oh, but it is, my man. I should have gone instead of assuming Caleigh could carry it all back alone.”
“Honestly, it was my pleasure, bro.”
“Why don’t you grab a beer and come join me?”
I hand Rhett a bottled beer and he thanks me before heading towards Damien’s end of the bar. I watch as he takes a seat next to him and they start chatting.
After serving the line of customers, I ponder what brought Rhett here. It has to be one of the quietest little places in the country. Is he just after peace and quiet, or is he escaping something? From his demeanour tonight, he doesn’t seem like he’s troubled, but there’s something about him. I can’t put my finger on it, but it’s like something is bothering him. I tried asking him stuff on the plane and he changed the subject swiftly, probably thinking—or hoping—I wouldn’t notice.
Maybe he’s just an extremely private person. I don’t know. He’s like a riddle I can’t solve and that bugs me. It would be nice to peel back the layers of him a little bit, get to know more about him. But we only seem to make small talk.
It’s that time of the evening when Tina takes to the stage and belts out Alanis Morrisette’s “Ironic”. I love the song, and Tina has a pretty good voice. She doesn’t have to be steaming drunk to get up on that stage and give it her all either. She has confidence by the bucketload.
Next up is Joshua, who always sings “With or Without You”. Another song I love. But then after him is Maddie, who always signs up to sing “Unbreak My Heart”. She had her heart broken by a guy a while back, and ever since she’s seemed like she’s drowning in misery. She’s one of the people with a voice powerful enough to hit every note, but it makes me sad to see that she’s still struggling.
I know what it’s like to lose a guy. I mean, okay so it’s a little different because Angelo passed away, but it’s really hard to come to terms with shit like that in the beginning.
It’s hard to accept that they’re gone. It’s really hard to accept that they’ll never come back to you. Loss is loss, whether it’s death or just the end of a relationship. I’ve had both and been hurt by both. You grieve the loss of all the things you had planned together but never got to do.
I moved back to River’s Edge to get away from the sympathetic looks and the many people who gave their condolences. I didn’t want people’s pity. I wanted to just be allowed to be me.
I lived here as a little girl, and Angelo lived here too, but we moved away to start afresh somewhere bigger when we realised that we were going to have Hardin.
Three years ago, when he passed away, I moved back here to be closer to my parents and other family members. I wanted Hardin to have family around to help him after losing his daddy. Thankfully, he was only young when it happened; he was just two years old. But that doesn’t mean he wasn’t affected. We both were, and we both needed our family around us.
But I digress. My point is that we all deal with loss in different ways. And Maddie sings her heart out every other week at karaoke night. She only comes every other week because her mum looks after her daughter, Janie.
My heart pangs with the memory of my own loss as she sings.
The crowd gathered applauds loudly as the song ends, and Delia gets up to sing a song by Whitney Houston. I discreetly stick in my ear plugs and serve a couple of customers. It’s easy when you already know their usual and don’t have to make them shout to be heard beyond the ear plugs.
I watch as Damien laughs with Rhett. And I wish I could hear that lilting laugh of his. Grabbing a bottle of Johnnie Walker, I head down to pour them both a healthy measure.
“You should get up and sing, dude,” Damien says to Rhett.
“Nah, man, I can’t carry a tune. Honestly, I’d make your ears bleed,” Rhett replies with a laugh.
“Come on, man, just one song. I promise I’ll stop nagging if you do. And, to sweeten the pot, drinks on the house for the rest of the night. Not the cheap stuff either!”
“Man, you drive a hard bargain to hear me murder a tune.”
“Go on, Rhett. Just the one,” I butt in.
He smiles at me, and man does my heart start racing. His pearly white grin, all Hollywood and perfect. It just does something to my insides, turning them into a pool of gelatinous goo.
“Aw, man, not you too. You know this is harassment, right?” he asks, still smiling.
“I promise we’ll stop if you let me put you down for one song,” Damien says.
“And I get to pick my own song?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t set you up, man.”
Rhett looks resigned to his fate. Poor guy.
Another couple of singers get up before it’s his turn. When the melody begins to play, I just know I won’t be putting my ear plugs back in. “Take It to the Limit” is a song I grew up listening to. I defy anyone to say they don’t like The Eagles, whether they’re country fans or not.
His voice pins me to the spot. Suddenly Rhett is all I can see and hear. He belts it out in a heavenly voice. So much for not being able to hold a tune. He even hits the higher notes perfectly. I feel weak at the knees.
When he takes his seat back at the bar, I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
“What the fuck, dude? Thought you said you couldn’t sing,” Damien says as he claps him on the shoulder.
Rhett has the grace to blush.
“That was …” I trail off, floundering for the right word. “I’ve always loved that song. My mum brought me up on The Eagles, amongst others. You had me believing you couldn’t sing and then … then you go and bring the house down.”
The raucous applause is still ringing in my ears. The crowd loved it every bit as much as I did.
“I think he should sing another for telling us a lie,” Damien says to me.
“I second that.”
“Oh no. No way. You promised you’d back off if I sang one song. One,” Rhett replies, looking between us both.
“No can do, buddy. Sorry. But you tell a lie like that and you have to pay the price.”
I laugh as he looks completely horrified at the thought. He knows he won’t get out of it, because Damien is not the kind of guy to back down. He’ll go toe to toe with him until he gets his way.
“And I say one of us gets to pick the song,” I say, with a wink at Rhett.
“Damn straight,” Damien agrees, slapping him on the back.
“Fuck,” Rhett says as his shoulders slump.
Damien leans over the bar to conspire with me over song choice and I’m almost tempted to choose “Let It Go” from Frozen, just to be a complete bitch, but I don’t. I hate that song, for a start.
“How about something like one of Panic at The Disco’s songs?” I whisper.
“Nah, man, something that needs a really strong voice. I’ve got it, hold on.”
He leans over to Rhett and asks if he’s seen The Greatest Showman. Rhett nods and then Damien leans back over to me.
“ ‘From Now On’. What do you say, Caleigh?”
I nod emphatically and clap my hands in glee.
Rhett graces the stage once again without knowing the song we chose. The melody starts to play and his eyes flash with recognition.
He starts singing softly, just like Hugh Jackman would. Then it starts to get stronger and louder. His voice carries throughout the room and the crowd sit enraptured. My heart races, and I feel tears sting my eyes. I’ve loved this song since the moment I first heard it. It really has all the feels when you watch the f
ilm. Hardin and I might just be a little obsessed with the film and its soundtrack.
The room bursts into applause as Rhett finishes singing and I clap along with them. I clap so loud it makes my hands sting. He really is one talented guy. He obviously hides his light under a bushel. Not only can he pull off covering The Eagles—which is no mean feat—but a song from a bloody musical too. Christ alive, this man gets more and more amazing the more I see him.
Damien tells me to pour the man a drink, so I do.
***
I’m shattered. What a long night on my feet. But it was worth every ounce of pain just to hear Rhett sing. Man, he had the crowd begging for more but declined after his second song.
I collect Hardin from Mum, pack his snacks in his new school bag and make sure everything is ready for tomorrow.
“Brush your teeth for the full two minutes, mister. Don’t stop until that timer goes off.”
“I will, Mum,” he garbles around his toothbrush.
“Good boy.”
I finish packing his lunch and hear the timer go off in the bathroom. Hardin runs into the room and shows me his gleaming white teeth.
“Choose a bedtime story and I’ll be up in two minutes.”
“Okay, Mummy.”
“And don’t run up the stairs.”
“I know,” he says on a sigh, like I’ve told him a million times before. Probably because I have.
“I chose Room on The Broom, Mummy,” he says excitedly as I sit next to him on the bed.
“Did Grandma buy you this?”
“Yeah, we got it today. She took me to see Uncle Ted. He gave me the new Snowman book too, Mummy. Wanna see?”
He clambers out of bed and rushes to his bookshelf. It’s crammed with all the books Ted and my mum spoil him with.
There’s nothing more wonderful than teaching him to read and sitting to read bedtime stories together. I hate it when I can’t tuck him into bed at night, because I miss our bedtime stories. When we don’t have anything new to read and he doesn’t fancy one we’ve already read, we make up stories together. This kid has quite the imagination.
Climbing back on his bed, he shows me the new Snowman book and it takes me back to being a kid. I watched it every Christmas without fail. Now I watch it with my baby, just the way my mum did with me.