by Sarra Cannon
“He was heckling me more than you, trust me,” she says. “He’s just happy to see me going out for a change.”
I lead her toward the truck and open the passenger door so she can climb inside. I go around and get in, grateful when the old thing starts right up. I’ve had this truck for five years, and it already had a hundred thousand miles on it when I bought it. It still runs most of the time, but I’ve had a few problems with it lately.
Luckily, it looks like it’s going to cooperate tonight.
“So should we call this our first official date?” I ask. “I mean, technically this is the first time I’ve taken you out.”
“I think the fishing trip counts as a date,” she says. “I might rather do that again, instead.”
“Definitely a day to remember,” I say.
She laughs and scoots a little closer on the seat. I grab her hand, and it’s ice cold.
“If you don’t want to go, we can turn around,” I say. “I just want to be with you.”
She shakes her head. “I want to go,” she says. “It’ll be fun to meet your friends.”
But she doesn’t sound so sure. She’s always so confident at the bar that it seems strange she would be nervous about going to a simple party. I make a mental note to stick by her side so that she’s comfortable and having a good time. Greg assured me it was going to be a small, low-key kind of crowd tonight, so hopefully it will be fun.
When we get to the beach house, though, there are so many cars parked along the street that it’s obvious this is a little more than low-key. I open the door for Jo and take her hand to help her down.
“Who all is going to be here tonight?” she asks. “That’s a lot of cars.”
“I’m not entirely sure,” I say. “Greg told me it would be the band and a handful of old friends from high school. I wasn’t expecting so many people. He made it sound like a small gathering.”
“Maybe this is small for them these days,” she says.
“True,” I say. Either that or word got out that they were hosting friends and the whole damn town showed up.
The music booming through the trees makes me think this won’t exactly be the kind of gathering where people are quietly sitting around talking about old times.
Seeing the beach house again brings back some strong memories. It used to belong to Greg’s dad, but when he passed away a few years ago, he left it to him. I imagine it mostly goes unused throughout the year with the band touring so much lately, but it’s definitely getting some use tonight.
“Man, I haven’t been back here in years,” I say. “I used to spend nearly every weekend of my life camped out on that back porch.”
“I didn’t realize you guys were so close,” she says. “It must have been tough when he left.”
“He was my best friend,” I say. “Plus, it was nice to get away from the estrogen in my house. It wasn’t exactly a picnic to be the only boy in a house full of girls.”
“I imagine this was a pretty cool place to hang out,” she says. “It’s gorgeous out here. Was it hard for you when he left to go to college?”
“In some ways,” I say. “But in other ways it was good for me.”
“How so?”
“Greg’s parents were divorced, and his mom was pretty strict with him, but his dad was another story altogether,” I say. “He was out of town on business a lot, so when we used to come out here, we had free reign of the place. Things got out of hand a lot.”
“Drinking?” she asks.
“Drinking. Smoking weed. It’s a miracle I ever graduated from high school the way we used to party,” I say, wincing at the memory of how out of control I used to be. “Imagine being almost black-out drunk on a nightly basis. It was fun for a while, but believe me, it gets old.”
“I can’t even imagine it,” she says.
“Not your style?”
“Not even a little.”
“Come on, you didn’t party and drink even when you were in high school?”
She shakes her head. “I guess I got a little bit into the party scene when I was fifteen or so, but Dad put a stop to that pretty quickly,” she says.
“Ah, the overprotective father.”
“Sort of,” she says. She clears her throat. “I guess you could say I got mixed up with some of the wrong people back then. It kind of killed the whole party scene for me.”
There’s an edge to her voice, and I wonder if this has anything to do with that Bryan guy. I want to ask her more about it, but we’re almost to the house when someone on the back porch spots us and starts calling out for us to hurry up.
“Colton Tucker, is that you? You better get your ass up here.”
It’s dark, but I recognize the voice instantly.
“Wesley, is that you?” I shout back.
“You know it, bro,” he says.
We make our way up the steps of the porch and Wesley slaps his hand into mine.
“What you been up to, man? I haven’t seen you in ages.”
“It’s been a while,” I say. “I’ve been working at Rob’s. What are you up to?”
“That hole in the wall in Fairhope? Man, I thought you left town or something. You never come by our old haunts anymore.”
I cringe and put an arm around Jo. “This is Rob’s daughter, Jo.”
“Ouch,” Wesley says, reaching out to offer his hand to Jo. “No offense meant by that. I’ve only been in there a couple times, but I heard it was going under.”
“None taken,” Jo says, smiling and taking his hand. “We were in a rough spot a while back, but things have really picked up.”
Nice, so I convince her to finally go out with me to meet my friends and she gets insulted about two seconds in. Not exactly the start I was hoping for, but she doesn’t seem to be too bothered by it.
“You should have come out last night. The band played,” I say.
“What band?”
I roll my eyes. “Long Road Ahead, dummy. Why else do you think they’re back in town? Just to hang out with you?”
“What? Seriously?” He takes a long pull on his beer. “I had no idea. I thought they were just on a break or something. I totally would have come out if I’d known they were playing. Since when do you guys have live music out at Rob’s?”
“Since a couple months ago, I guess,” I say. “Jo’s been doing an amazing job getting the place back on its feet.”
“So you’re Rob’s daughter, eh? What’s that like, growing up with a dad who runs a bar? I bet you were sneaking a lot of booze when you were younger, am I right?”
“My dad would have killed me,” she says.
“Yeah, and trust me, you do not want to mess with Jo’s dad. He’s a big guy.”
“Guess you better treat this girl right, then,” Greg says, coming out onto the porch. He smiles and offers his hand to Jo. “I met your dad briefly last night when we got in, but I don’t think I had the pleasure of meeting you. I’m Greg.”
Greg and Jo shake hands and Wesley throws his arm around my shoulders.
“It’s so freaking awesome to have the old gang back together,” he says. From the way he’s slurring his words, he’s obviously already had several of those beers by now. “What’s it like out there on the road all the time? Is it awesome?”
“It’s exhausting,” Greg says. “But it’ll be nice to take some time to slow down and be home for a while.”
“I bet you get all the women, though, man. What’s it really like out there?” Wesley asks.
“Busy all the time,” Greg says. “You can’t imagine how much pressure there is to constantly be on. I’m looking forward to relaxing for a little while.”
“How long is a little while?” I ask. “Willow said something about spending a week here?”
“Yeah, we’re hoping for at least a week off,” he says. “We’ve really got to focus on getting some new music nailed down.”
He looks around and shakes his head. “She needs to seriously cool it wit
h these parties, though,” he says. “It was insane out here last night and the night before. I’m surprised no one called the cops.”
“Yeah, I thought you told me it was just going to be a small get-together tonight,” I say.
“Well, apparently the word got out that we were having some people over, and everyone just showed up. What can you do?”
“I had a feeling that might be what happened,” I say. “It’s your house, though, man. You can ask people to leave, if you want.”
“Nah, it’ll be fun to see some old friends,” he says. “We’ll settle down after tonight and get to work. Speaking of work, where’s your guitar? I was hoping you’d play something for us tonight. You been writing much lately? I know you said you’ve been busy, but the Colton I know wouldn’t be without a guitar in his hand for very long.”
I catch Jo’s eye, knowing she’s the only one who really understands what I’ve been going through.
“I really haven’t been playing much at all,” I say. “I’m not even sure I remember all the chords.”
“Shit, man, you never forget how to play,” he says. “Once the music is in your soul and in your fingers, you never forget it. Maybe when things settle down later, we’ll pull out our guitars and get you to play something for us.”
I nod, but I know I won’t be playing anything tonight. Not like this.
“Hey, you guys want something to drink?” he asks. “Come on in, and I’ll serve you guys for a change.”
I take Jo’s hand and we walk inside together.
The living room and entryway are packed with bodies, so I hold tight to her hand and lead her through the crowd toward the kitchen.
“I’m sorry,” I say in her ear. “I had no idea it was going to be this many people. Are you okay?”
She nods, but sticks tight by my side.
Greg hands us a couple of beers and we make our way around the kitchen, saying hi to old friends I haven’t talked to in years except in passing. Jo seems to be hanging in there, even if she hasn’t said much.
About an hour later, I excuse myself to go to the bathroom and leave her talking to a few girls in the living room. I’ve had three beers already, and I’m dying for the bathroom, but there’s a line downstairs about a mile long.
I make my way up to one of the bedrooms on the second floor, thankful no one else seems to realize there are three more bathrooms up here. I wash my hands and start back toward the stairs, but Willow appears out of nowhere and throws her arms around my shoulders.
“Colton, there you are,” she says.
“Hey, girl, I was wondering where you were,” I say. I glance toward the stairs. I hate to leave Jo for too long. I know she’s fine on her own, but I don’t want her to be uncomfortable even for a second.
“I’ve been up here listening to some of our most recent recordings,” she says. “Colton, we are totally screwed with this next album.”
“It can’t be that bad,” I say. “Come downstairs and hang out for a while. You’re probably just letting all the pressure get to your head. Take a break.”
I start toward the bathroom again, but Willow grabs my hand pulls me back to her side.
“You don’t understand,” she says, her eyes searching mine. “I’ve got serious writer’s block, and nothing I do seems to break through to anything good.”
She’s got a death-grip on my hand and she moves up real close to me. I back up, but she comes with me, pressing me up against the wall.
“Stay with me for a while,” she says. She presses her body hard against mine. “I need you, Colton. You were like magic for me once. Maybe you could be again.”
I smell the alcohol on her breath and realize too late she’s extremely drunk.
She lifts her hands to my face and tries to kiss me, but I turn away and grab her hands in mine.
“Willow, you’ve had a lot to drink,” I say. “You’re not thinking straight. Come on, let’s go downstairs and get you some water.”
She pouts. “I have missed you so much, Colton,” she says. “There’s never been another man in my life like you.”
I try to maneuver around her, but before I can convince her to follow me down to the kitchen, I hear footsteps on the steps. I look up to see Jo standing a few stairs from the top.
“Oh,” she says, her lips parting and her hand gripping the handrail. “Greg said I might be able to find you up here.”
She shakes her head and turns around, running down the stairs and out the back door.
“Dammit,” I say. I pull away from Willow and run after Jo, but Willow calls after me, and I hear her footsteps right behind me.
I push through the crowded entry and search the back deck for any sign of Jo, but by the time I catch sight of her, she’s already down the back steps and in the parking lot.
Willow grabs my arm and won’t let go.
I turn around and shake my head. “I have to go,” I say.
“What’s your problem?” she shouts, drawing the attention of everyone within hearing distance.
“That girl on the stairs? She’s my girlfriend and she thinks something was happening between us just now,” I say. “I have to go explain to her that there’s nothing going on, Willow. Please, just go get yourself some water and sober up.”
“Hey, what’s going on?” Greg asks, making his way through the crowd. “You guys okay?”
I pull my arm away from Willow’s grip and nod to him. “Can you take care of her, please?” I say. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”
“Colton,” he says, but I’m already running.
I catch up with Jo on the road, and when she turns her face toward the light, I can see she’s crying.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “She’s drunk and I was trying to get her to come downstairs so she could get some water or coffee or something. I swear to you nothing was going on.”
“But you used to date her, right?” she asks.
I swallow and run a hand across my jaw. “A very long time ago,” I say.
“And you didn’t think maybe that was something you should have told me before you asked her to come to the bar?” she asks. “No wonder they were willing to come back to this area to play at a hole in the wall place in Fairhope. She wanted to see you.”
“It’s not like that,” I say. “Things were never serious between us. They came back because Greg’s been one of my best friends since I was a kid.”
“Well, the fact that you had a thing with the lead singer of the band was probably something you should have told me before you brought me here tonight,” she says. “Instead, I had to hear it from someone I just met. They told me you wrote that song for her.”
I groan, my shoulders tense. This cannot be the thing that screws it up for the two of us. Not my past relationship with Willow. It was never anything compared to what I feel for Jo.
“I didn’t think it was important,” I say. “It’s been over for years.”
“Did you?” she asks. “Write that song for her? Those lyrics were about the two of you?”
I shake my head. “It’s a dramatization of what was going on between us back when I was living in Athens with the band,” I say. “I wasn’t in love with her, if that’s what you’re asking. I’ve never been in love with anyone but you, Jo.”
“Well, apparently Willow still has a thing for you,” she says. “She was all over you. Not exactly what I wanted to see when I came looking for you.”
“I know. I’m sorry,” I say. “But I swear to you I wanted nothing to do with it. She just had a little too much to drink.”
Jo closes her eyes, and wipes the tears from her face.
“Look, I don’t want to be this girl,” she says. “I don’t want to be irrationally jealous and a pain in the ass. I want to believe you that there was nothing going on between you guys, but I really don’t want to go back to that party right now.”
“Do you want to go somewhere else?” I ask. “We could go walk on the beach for a while. Anything.
I don’t want the night to end like this.”
“I just want to go home,” she says. “It’s been a rough few weeks with all these doctor’s appointments and the busy nights at the bar. Maybe I just need some rest.”
“Okay,” I say. “I wasn’t expecting to have to drive so soon, though, and I’ve already had a few beers.”
“I’ll drive,” she says, holding her hands out for the keys. “Oh, dangit. Dad’s got Kelly over for a movie. I don’t want to ruin their night, too.”
Her words are like a punch in the gut. Our first official date is ruined. Of course. Leave it to Colton to screw things up. It’s always just a matter of time with me.
“Let’s go to my place,” I say. “We can put on a movie, too, and relax on the couch. I don’t want to say goodnight with you still angry with me.”
She stops beside my truck and leans against the door. “I’m not angry,” she says. “I mean, I’m annoyed that you didn’t tell me you guys used to date, but I’m not mad. I was just surprised and hurt. And when I saw the two of you together like that, it was too much. I was so scared that maybe you…”
Her voice trails off and she looks down at her shoes.
“You’re the only one I want,” I say, lifting her chin. “I would never do anything to hurt you like that, Jo. I may be a screw-up sometimes, but I’m not a cheater.”
“I know,” she says. “I’m sorry I ruined the party. Everyone probably thinks I’m a nutcase.”
“Who cares what anyone else thinks?” I say. “And you didn’t ruin anything. If I had known it was going to be a huge party like that, I never would have suggested we go in the first place.”
“I think my nerves are on edge too much lately,” she says. “This whole thing with Daddy has me all mixed up. I’m sorry I stormed out like that.”
I pull her close and rest my chin on the top of her head, loving the way she fits perfectly in my arms.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Willow sooner,” I say. “From now on, I promise to be an open book.”
She pulls back and smiles. “Just promise me one thing,” she says.
“Anything.”
“Someday, when you start playing music again, you’ll write a song for me, too.”